"But you don't live that," he cut back in. "Moonworms, Dion. You always

have a choice: You can spend your life all at once, or you can spread yourself out over time. Sometimes I think the wolves fill your mind with history more than vision-you don't even see the future, just a past so long that you feel you don't want it to go on any longer."

She touched her sternum, where two gemstones had been studded into her bone. Aranur stepped forward and covered her hand with his, his long fingers touching the bumps made by the gems. "We're bonded, Dion, as tightly as stone to the mountain. That's what these studs represent. One for the Waiting Year we lived with each other, and one for the Promise itself. You try to shoulder your burdens alone, but we are two together." His gray eyes were intense as a wolf's, and she stared deeply into his expression. His voice was soft. "No matter what you see through the eyes of the wolves, you have your own eyes too. Your future is with me, not just them. In the present, not just the past." He pulled her hand to his own sternum so she could feel the two matching studs there. "Remember me, Dion, not just the packsong you hear through the minds of the wolves. You can seek the future through the past, but you can live only in the present. Choose that present-choose your direction-well. There are futures you can barely even imagine just waiting to be discovered." He looked at her for a moment more, then went into the council chambers.

Dion remained silent while Aranur gave his report to the elders. The circle of faces listened intently, asked their questions, listened to Aranur's answers, then went into their usual argument. Dion and Aranur escaped. They were met outside by a gray-haired man and a lanky, hard-faced woman.

The older man, his grizzled beard trimmed short as a fingernail, studied Dion as she moved to her dnu. "It was bad?" he asked.

"Bad enough, Gamon," she returned. Aranur met his uncle's gaze. "Mjau took a deep cut in the gut, but Dion got to her in time. Mjau will live, though she won't be up to riding or walking anytime soon. NeHendar was killed."

"Moonwormed raiders," the older man muttered.

Absently, Dion rubbed her elbow before mounting, as though the joint still

rang with the force of the raider's blows. Aranur caught the movement and frowned at her. "There was something else," he said to Gamon and the lanky woman. "One of the raiders cut Dion off from the venge."

"Cut her off?" Tehena's voice was sharp.

"It was deliberate," Aranur said, answering the unspoken question. "And the raider trying to take her knew her name."

The grizzled man eyed Dion thoughtfully. "You said 'take her, ' not 'kill

her.' "

Aranur nodded.

Dion met the older man's frown with a steady gaze. "He was stronger than

I, more skilled, and more focused." She shrugged at Aranur's suddenly hard look. "He... startled me enough that I made mistakes. He had two chances to kill me because of it, but his blows were disabling, not mortal. Even when he had me against the ground, he tried to hit me with the hilt of his sword, not the blade. When he couldn't completely disarm me, and when Hishn went after him, he dropped me like a hot coal. By then our venge was getting the upper hand of the raiders, and he fled. He blocked the pass route behind him."

"But he didn't try to kill you on his way out?"

"Didn't throw a blow."

Gamon touched her shoulder, rubbing it absently, and Dion looked from the

gray-haired man to her mate, caught by their similarities. Both were tall, lean, straight-haired, and strong-boned. Aranur was simply a taller, younger copy of Gamon. They had the same exacting eyes, which could turn to ice in a second, but Gamon's were more often filled with wisdom where Aranur's gaze was driving. She loved the older man deeply, not just because he was Aranur's uncle but because he listened more than anyone else to what she couldn't say.

Now Gamon ran his hand through his hair. "So did he want you as a slave

or hostage?"

She shook her head. "The raiders tried before to use wolfwalkers against the counties, and that mobilized us like the threat of plague. They wouldn't try that again. It would have to be as a slave or healer that they wanted me- but I'm not sure that really makes sense either. I'm not so valuable that a raider would risk what this one did simply to take a slave. And there are dozens of healers that would be easier to get at."

Thoughtfully, Tehena fingered her stringy hair, twisting it one way, then the other. "You've made a lot of enemies, Dion. Maybe it's simple revenge."

Aranur shook his head. "I can't see that. Most of Dion's enemies are dead."

"We've been rather... thorough," the lean woman agreed.

He scowled at her. "No simple raider would want revenge against Dion so badly that he would plan a series of raids into Ariye on the chance that he might catch her up in them."

"What about revenge against you?"

"We're talking about Dion."

"Aye," Tehena said meaningfully. He gave her a sharp look, and the woman

shrugged. "Using her to get to you is not an original idea," Tehena added.

"The question is whether they have a goal in mind, or are just working the spur of the moment."

Dion eyed first one, then the other. "Raiders are hardly more than cutthroats and slavers. They've not got the organization to plan so far ahead or the cohesiveness to stick together on a long-term plan."

"They've had charismatic leaders before," the other woman returned flatly.

"Aye," Gamon put in. "But in every case, they were political leaders who used the raiders as a disorganized army. They weren't raiders themselves.

And there hasn't even been anyone trying that since Longear died." He paused. "Well," he amended, "that's not quite true. But the two who did try

that were dead the day they made their bid for power. The raiders themselves saw to that."

Tehena shook her head. "I wasn't thinking of a political leader from the

outside using the raiders, but one from within the raider ranks themselves.

They've got their own hierarchy. Who's to say that they can't grow their own leaders in time?"

The four looked at each other soberly. Gamon cleared his throat and indicated with his chin the Lloroi's house, in which the elders still met.

"Did you tell them about Dion?"

"No." Aranur ran his hand through his own black hair in a gesture identical to Gamon's. "I don't want them to know."

"If Dion's in danger... "

He sighed. "The raiders have made two attempts to take me also, Gamon."

Dion stared at her mate. Gamon's eyes narrowed. "You never said anything

about that to us," the older man said sharply.

Tehena shrugged. "We didn't know it was anything more than a fluke. Not, at least, until this happened to Dion."

Dion rounded on the other woman. "You knew about them and Aranur?

And you never told me?"

Aranur caught her arm. He nodded at the Lloroi's house. "Keep it down, Dion. This isn't something my uncle-my other uncle-should know."

"Why not?" she demanded hotly.

"What do you think the elders would do to you if they thought you were

raider bait? Neither they nor the Lloroi would allow you to take such risks, whether or not you would take them yourself. I have to live with the fact that the one thing in your life that gives you a break from everything else is running with the wolves. But I know you like myself. They think of you differently. You're the Gray Wolf of Randonnen to them. The Heart of Ariye. Their own wolfwalker and scout and healer. You think they would give you any more scouting assignments if they knew about today? Let you run around in the wilderness as you're used to doing now?"

Her eyes sparked with violet fire. "Your uncle may be Lloroi, but he has no

right to keep me away from Hishn-"

"No," he agreed. "But he can make sure that you have so much to do here that you cannot get away. The elders could easily find some reason to require you to stay."

Tehena nodded. "Mjau and her gut wound. That blind ring-runner in Kitman. Whoever else they dig up for you to tend. We have enough moonwormed raids to deal with that I'm sure they can keep you busy."

Dion stared at them mutely.

"You're off duty for the half month?" Gamon asked her finally.

"For four ninans," she answered. "Until the boys go back to school."

He raised his gray eyebrows. "I thought you were being reassigned in two

ninans."

"Two ninans?"

"They've got a tricky scouting job coming up in the northwest. If you can't

go, neFored will have to take neCeltir, and he's not half as good at leading

that cliff trail as you are. But, if you're off duty... " Gamon shrugged.