Hunter didn't smile back. "It's your habits that concern me, Black Wolf."

She eyed him warily. "What do you mean?" She didn't need another lecture on duty.

Hunter watched her gaze shutter. "You always seem to be walking away from me just when I think we're getting somewhere."

She shrugged. "There is no somewhere for us to get."

He leaned forward. "You know what I want."

"Aye, but I'm not willing to give it."

"Nori-"

"Don't push, Condari. It won't get you where you think." Not unless he was willing to give her a look at the papers he kept in that belt, something she was sure he'd refuse. Still, even if she satisfied her curiosity, she couldn't ride with him. Land wars were a concern for merchants and farmers, not for wolfwalkers or scouts. She was concerned with bigger problems, with Aiueven and plague.

He studied her for a moment, but the set of her chin told him she was serious. "Why not?"

"I can't answer."

"Can't or won't?"

She smiled faintly, shook her head and made to stand up, but he put out a hand and stopped her. "At least explain why you won't tell me."

She looked at him steadily. "It serves no purpose, Condari."

"Hunter. You called me Hunter before."

"I did," she agreed.

"Then why?"

"It's a duty, Hunter, one I will not speak of again except to say that, as Tamrani, you should understand and respect the seriousness of some obligations."

He tilted his head slightly to study her more closely. "Whatever it is, it scares you."

"That's nothing." She snorted derisively. "I scare myself."

He leaned back in his seat. "All that fear," he mused, "in such a lovely body. I could help, you know."

She bristled in her chair as he knew she would. "I'm not looking for help," she said sharply.

"Why?" he persisted.

"Because I have Payne. My uncles. Kettre. My parents."

He leaned forward slightly. "They're obviously not enough to take away the fear."

"It's not their job to do so."

He said softly, "I could make it my job."

She stared at him. Her hands had tensed, he saw, and her eyes were starting to go grey.

"What are you afraid of, Noriana maDione?"

Plague. Death the way the Ancients died. The taint in her mind. Striking out with the fury hands. Burning out of control. The images tumbled through her mind. She clenched her jaw and breathed in, then out, three times before she thought her voice might be steady again.

"What are you afraid of?" he repeated more softly.

She gazed at him, but he did not think she saw him when she finally whispered, "Myself."

It surprised him. "Why?"

For a moment, she didn't answer. Then she shook it off and said flatly, "Because I can be dangerous."

"Not to me."

"You have no idea," she said dryly.

He reached out and tilted her face up with one finger so he could read her eyes. "I do not fear the Grey One."

She drew back from his hand. "It's not the wolf in me you should fear." She looked at him soberly.

"You cannot trust me, Hunter. I cannot trust myself."

He shrugged. "I've seen you in action. I'll take that chance."

"But I won't." She was starting to feel trapped, and her voice had sharpened.

He kept his expression calm. "We spoke the travel oath, Black Wolf. I took your burdens as you took mine. We can share your duties, too, if you're willing."

"I've already given you my answer." She started to rise. "I'll bid you ride safe, Condari Brithanas. It's been an interesting half ninan."

He interrupted. "Do you know what the songsters say about you?" He waited till she sat reluctantly down, forced by her own courtesy. "They say you're reserved. That you keep to yourself and to your family, that you're full of wolfwalker secrets. They say you're another Dione. I've wondered about that, about how much like your mother you really are. I saw her work once, you know." His cool green eyes watched her carefully. He wasn't disappointed.

Her face went carefully expressionless. How could he know? Ovousibas was secret, and he was out of Sidisport. "That is not something we speak of."

He could swear that a note of fear was back in her voice. "But it was so very . . ." He let the words trail off deliberately. "Interesting," he finished.

She glanced quickly around the room and dropped her voice. "Hunter-"

"Can you do what she does?"

"No," she said sharply. The taint could, but she could not. If she tried, it would burn out her mind. "You don't understand."

Yes, there it was, the unreasoning fear. Like a child told she'll drown if she goes into the ocean. A hard note crept into his voice. "I understand enough. You're afraid because people have told you that you can't do this or that. For all that you're a better scout than Payne, you've been overprotected all your life. You haven't earned your fears; you've been taught them, and it's made you distrust every instinct you have except when someone else is in danger."

Startlement flickered in her eyes, and he wondered if he'd made a mistake. She stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

He stared back. If it wasn't about her mother . . . He tried to buy time to think by brushing a stray hair from her cheek, but this time, she jerked back swiftly. "Don't," she said sharply.

He studied her face. "Moons, Noriana. Were you this skittish before the wolf or just since you started bonding?"

"That's none of your business, Tamrani."

Now, that reaction he knew. He smiled slowly. "Oh, I'd say it is."

"Since when?" she snapped.

"Since we started riding together. You're good for me, Jangharat, even if you're young."

She bristled. "I've known more duty for my age than an elder twice your years."

He kept the satisfaction out of his face. "Maybe you know duty, but you don't know life at all. Frankly,"

he added deliberately, "I think you're terrified of it."

Her eyes narrowed. It wasn't life that scared her, but the demon in her mind. She'd killed two men intentionally in the last six years, and although they were ghosts she saw in her sleep, the ghost that was worse was the accident, the man she'd almost killed. It was the lack of control of herself that she feared.

It was being able to touch the energies of her mother-mother, the power that could erupt through her hands like a dozen knives in a whirlwind. The energies that were linked with the plague. It wasn't meant for humans, and it wasn't meant for wolves. That the Ancients had been able to control it at all was a miracle of the moons. In the end, it had nearly destroyed them.

To the Ancients with their partner wolves, to the Wolfwalker Dione, Ovousibas was a healing force. To Nori, with the Aiueven link within her mind, the energy was stronger, violent and less discriminating, and a wolf-bond might not save her. She feared it like flames in dry gra.s.s.

The Tamrani thought she was frightened of life? She was terrified she would destroy it. "You know nothing about me," she snarled.

"Then we're even," he retorted. "Because you sure as the second h.e.l.l don't know yourself."

He was fast, but she was faster, and it wasn't some light-fingered, ladylike slap that she gave him, but the open-handed blow of a scout, trained and honed by years on the trail, with wolves gathering in her violet-grey eyes and not quite under control. He barely registered that she had moved when he felt the stinging blast, and it took all his will to keep his head from rocking back. He grabbed her hand and slammed it down on the table. Her left hand flew to his, and he covered it with an iron grip and jerked her forward so they were nearly face to face. "Once, with the wolves, because you're still young. But not again," he said softly.

Heads turned toward them, and several men and women seemed suddenly poised. Hunter ignored them.

"Release me," she hissed. She almost vibrated with anger.

"Is that you or the wolf?"

Her lips curled back. "Release me."

He smiled slowly without humor. "Then speak to me as Noriana Ember maDione."

She jerked at her hand, but he was stronger than she thought. She couldn't budge his grip. She felt the snarl crawl into her throat. She didn't want to hurt him, but she would if he didn't let go. He pressed down hard between two of her fingers and watched without guilt as she stilled.

Someone's chair sc.r.a.ped back, and Hunter turned his head and looked at the man coldly. "This is personal," he said softly. "Do not interfere."

The man stood anyway, as did his friend, and Hunter looked back into her eyes. "We'll take this outside, Black Wolf."

"Aye," she snarled. "That we will."

"To talk," he corrected.

Her teeth bared further.

His voice was soft. "We can do this two ways, Jangharat. I can yank you up into my arms, haul you out of here kicking and howling like a wolf in front of all these people, or you can walk out on your own two feet, if you swear, by the moons, to answer one question honestly."

She hesitated.

He started to jerk her up, and she bit out, "I'll answer."

He released her. She sprang back, and he watched out of cool green eyes as she rubbed her hands where he'd pinched the nerves. He could see the conflict in her eyes: run, flee to the pack, or stay and honor her word. She stayed, but it was a struggle. He gestured toward the door, and she stalked in front of him, past the three tall men who eyed him as if they'd like to break more than his nose, past the table of burlychovas who watched him darkly, past the barkeep whose meaty hands rested lightly on the bat only half hidden by the bar.

"That's far enough," he halted her in the courtyard. She whirled, stared at him for a moment, then began to pace irritably on the stones. He watched for a moment, then asked quietly, "Do you want me?"

She halted. It wasn't what she expected, and he startled the truth out of her before she thought. "I-I don't know."

He nodded once, more to himself than to her.

She licked her lips. "Do you . . . do you want me?"

"You really are an idiot." He gestured at the ground in front of him. "Come here."

She didn't move. "Why?"

"Jangharat, come here."

She took one reluctant step forward. He raised an eyebrow. She stepped again, a smaller step, more warily. He waited. It was like convincing a wild animal to come close. He waited again, and she stepped forward until she stood within arm's reach, but she was balanced on the b.a.l.l.s of her feet as if she would flee at any moment.

"Put your arms around me," he said softly.

"Why?"

"G.o.ds, you're like a child. Just do it, Noriana."

She seemed to fight with herself. Then she reached out and rested her hands lightly on his waist.

"I said around me. Around my neck. Like a hug."

For a moment, he didn't think she would. Then she reached up tentatively and rested her hands on his shoulders.

"Around me," he commanded.

"You're too tall," she said defensively.

"This should help." He grasped her by the waist and lifted her against him. Instinctively, her hands locked on his shoulders to take some of her weight, and she stared down into his cool, green eyes. Then slowly he lowered her along the length of his body until her b.r.e.a.s.t.s pressed into his chest, and her thighs rubbed at his waist. Her heart was pounding, and her breath feathered on his lips.

He said softly, "Should I worry about my finger bones going to feed the wolf pack?"

She stared at him out of violet eyes. Mutely she shook her head, one short, slow motion.

"Then kiss me."