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are a shapechanger, and his granddaughter, you touch his pride. My uncle is a vain man indeed.” Carillon smiled at her grimly. “But I will not allow him to harm you. I will have that much of him.”
    Alix drew up her knees, clasping her arms around them. “Tell me of Homana-Mujhar, Carillon. I have ever been afraid to ask before, but no more. Tell me of the Mujhar’s great walled palace.”
    He smiled at her wistful tone. “It is a thing of men’s dreams.A fortress within a city of thousands. I know little enough of its history, save it has stood proudly for centuries. No enemy force has ever broken its walls, nor entered its halls and corridors. Homana-Mujhar is more than a palace, Alix; it is the heart of Homana.”
    “And you have lived their always?”
    “I? No. I have lived at Joyenne, my father’s castle. It is but three days from Mujhara. I was born there.” He smiled as if reminiscing. “My father has ever preferred to keep himself from cities, and I echo his feelings. Mujhara is lovely, a jeweled city, but I care more for the country.” He sighed. “Until my acclamation as formal heir last year, I lived at Joyenne. I spent time at Homana-Mujhar; I am not indifferent to its magnificence.”
    “And I have not even seen Mujhara,” she said sadly.
    “That is something I cannot understand. The city belongs to the Mujhar and it is well-protected. Women and children go in safety among its streets.”
    Alix kept her eyes from his. “Perhaps it was a promise made to the Mujhar by Torrin; that he would not allow Lindir’s shapechanger daughter to enter the city.”
    Carillon stiffened. “If you are that child,”
    Alix closed her eyes. “I begin to think I am.”
    “Alix…”
    She turned her head and rested her unblemished cheek against one knee, looking solemnly into Carillon’s face, “I converse with the animals, my lord. And I understand. If that is not shapechanger sorcery, then I must be a creature of the dark gods.”
    His hand fell upon her shoulder. “Alix, I will not have you say this, You are no demon’s get.”
    “And if I am Cheysuli?”
    Carillon’s eyes slid over the shadowed camp, marking each black-haired, yellow-eyed warrior in supple leathers and barbaric gold. He looked back at Alix and for a moment saw the leaping of flames reflected in her eyes, turning them from amber to yellow.
    He swallowed, forcing himself to relax. “It does not matter. Whatever you are, I accept it!”
    Alix smiled sadly and touched his hand. “Then if you accept me, you must accept the others.”
    He opened his mouth to deny it, then refrained. He saw the bleakness in her eyes and the weariness of her movements as she shifted into a more comfortable position. Carillon put a long arm out and drew her against his chest.
    “Alix, I have said it does not matter.”
    “You are the heir,” she said softly. “It must matter.”
    “Until I am the Mujhar, what I believe does not matter at all.”
    And when you are the Mujhar, will you slay my kin?
she wondered.
    In the morning Duncan led Carillon’s chestnut warhorse to them. Alix looked from the horse to the clan-leader and marked his solemn expression. Finn, standing with him, smiled at her suggestively. Alix colored and ignored him, watching Duncan instead.
    “You rode well enough yesterday, my lord,” he said quietly. “You have our leave to go. Finn will accompany you.”
    Carillon glared at him. “I can find my own way back, shapechanger.”
    Duncan’s lips twitched. “I have no doubt of that. But the Cheysuli have spent twenty-five years fleeing the unnatural wrath of the Mujhar, and we would be foolish indeed to lead his heir to our new home. Finn will see you do not follow us to the Keep.”
    Carillon reddened with anger but ignored the Cheysuli’s dry tone. He took the scarlet leather reins from Duncan and turned to Alix.
    “You may ride in the saddle before me.”
    Duncan stepped swiftly between the horse and Alix as she moved to