One of the ropes separated, but the others remained tight. Doggedly, she kept on working. She crushed her impulse to hurry. Her shoulders were beginning to ache from the tension of moving up and down at that angle. Another strand separated. She wriggled her wrists and felt the bonds loosen -enough to allow her shoulders to roll. She wrenched them again and felt her flesh tear.

Below, the voices raised briefly. A door opened and shut. Dion felt the loop on one wrist slacken again. She rubbed again on the tiny blade until she felt her arms begin to pull apart. Viciously, she strained at the rope. One of her wrists wriggled free. Her arms, still bound, began to tingle, and she bit her lip against what was coming. When the burning hit, it was all she could do to keep her hiss from becoming a scream. The circulation that returned to her flesh was worse than a raider beating.

Slowly, she twisted until the ropes loosened further and she could pull her whole arm free. She gasped silently in relief as she brought both hands in front of her. Her wrists were a bloody mess. She tried to extend and clench her fingers, but they were purplish blobs. Deliberately, she kept at it, shaking free of the loops and chunks of rope. Some part of her mind automatically stretched to the wolves as though Hishn could take some of the burning in her hands, but it was the other wolves who answered.

Suddenly alone in the wolf pack, she was swamped by their intensity. She had to bite back the sound that rose in her tightened throat.

Wolfwalker, they howled back into her head.Hurry, she thought, clenching her teeth, but she didn't project the word.We hunt your mate, they sang, still caught by the message she had sent before. We run with the wind, Wolfwalker!She shook her hands, then worked them for several minutes, stretching and clenching her fingers and fists until she could feel enough to take her headband from the floor and close the hidden clasp. Finally, she did it, then jammed it back on her head.

She took what was left of the rope and slunk to the door. There, she stopped

and listened. The raiders were still downstairs, speaking in low tones.

Carefully, she eased up the steps. She almost held her breath on the way up, but nothing creaked.

It was two flights up to the door that led to the captain's walk. There were

no sounds at the door other than those of the bay birds and breeze. Carefully, she eased the door open. There was no one on the small walk. The only movement, other than herself, was the light rippling of the two signal flags that flew at the top of the flagpole. A small red standard fluttered on top, and underneath it, a plain yellow one with a large green circle lifted and flapped desultorily. She was tempted to change the flags, picking colors at random from the box against the balustrade, but the urgency that filled her made her feet itch for the ground.

The rowhouse, one of five in the block, was situated parallel to the waterfront. The front of it faced west; the back faced east. This captain's walk was slightly higher than the two rowhouses to the south, and the walks to the north were slightly higher than the captain's walk. It gave the shared roofs a staggered appearance, as if some lost, nostalgic farmer had tried to terrace the town.

Dion studied the bay. The sparkling water lay like a bed of diamonds, and the wind was blowing crossways to the tide. The bay was cut with white lines where the tide and surface current conflicted. Moving carefully to the edge of the walk, she studied the street below. Even with the rope, she couldn't go down the front of the house-there were two raiders on the steps: a woman shelling beans as if she lived in the house, and the messenger who had lured Dion there. The few people moving along the block would be no help to her. If raiders could come and go at will, the neighbors must not care.

The captain's walk extended halfway back along the roof. There, the surface became peaked, with the northernmost row-houses sharing a roof and the other three rowhouses sharing another sloping surface. Dion eyed the slick tiles warily. Then she sat down and removed her boots. She tied her footgear together with one of the chunks of rope and slung the boots over her shoulder. Her feet would give her better purchase than any leather soles.

Carefully, she eased out into the vee where the two roofs met. It took only a moment to reach the other end of the house. There, she squatted and studied the street again. This street looked like the other one except that there were no raiders on the back steps. There were also no railings to which to attach her rope.

She chewed her lip. She could feel the wolves still gathering, hunting Aranur's trail like a pack of worlags, just as the raiders would hunt her should she jump for the street. Her landing would attract attention, and without some way to get away quickly from the house, she would be run down within seconds. Five minutes, ten... She didn't know how long she squatted there thinking, waiting for something to change. Then, several blocks away, a rider caught her eye. It was a man moving swiftly, but she knew his seat. Gamon... He disappeared behind another row of houses. Dion bit her lip so hard she drew blood. A moment later, another rider came into view, one block closer than Gamon. Aranur... They were searching the blocks, riding them one by one to find her.

She stood and waved. Aranur didn't see her. He was almost out of the intersection. Deliberately, Dion whistled. It was a short, sharp blast, followed by a quick trill and a higher note-a sequence easily mistaken for birdsong. The tones carried clearly. Instantly, Aranur halted. He didn't look around, but he cocked his head. Dion repeated the final tone. This time he looked up. " Urgently, she waved again. He turned his dnu and spurred the beast down the street.

Inside, on the first floor of the house, Bandrovic held up his hand for

silence. The other raiders stilled. "Check the wolfwalker," he said to neVenklan. The burly man took the stairs two at a time.

"What is it?" one of the others asked.

"Aranur-or Gamon. They're here."

"How do you know?"

"That whistle-it's an Ariyen communication used in the Lloroi's family."

NeVenklan leaned half down the stairs. "She's gone," he reported. He

started to run back up, to follow Dion to the roof.

"No," Bandrovic said sharply. "Let her go. She can't go down over the front -maLien is out there with Rossotti. She'll try to go down the back, and that will take her a few minutes. We can use that to our advantage. You two, get to the seawall. Pull the moving wagons the rest of the way into the street. Make sure it's blocked completely. You and you, cross Bicheppe Street-not so fast, dammit-and do it as if you belong there. You don't want to alert the Ariyens, and they don't want to attract attention, so they'll assume you're out going to work, and you will ignore them completely.

Once across Bicheppe Street, you can block them from turning east. That will herd them toward the seawall." He turned to the others. "NeVenklan, take your three and circle the block to the west. Come up on them from behind. I want them bolting for the seawall with no thought but speed.

NeCrischyk, you're with me. We'll go straight to the waterfront and wait by the western wagon." He was already heading for the door. "Go," he said sharply. As one, they moved.

On the roof, Dion lay down and leaned out, her head upside down as she looked under the eaves for something to which to tie the rope. Aranur didn't call out a greeting. Instead, he eyed the street warily in both directions while she worked. She had to knock an eaver's nest from the bore hole in which it was built, but it took only a second to do so-the dry mud crumbled easily. Quickly, she passed the end of the line through the hole and knotted it. It wasn't long enough to reach more than halfway down the house, but that was enough to get her feet to the outer beams on the walls. She glanced down. Two riders started to cross the street a block away, and she ducked quickly back on the roof. When she peered back out, both riders were gone, and Aranur waved for her to hurry. Quickly, she pulled her sleeves down over her hands, then grabbed the line and let her weight swing off the roof until she hung on the rope by her hands.

She didn't try to climb down; her hands were still clumsy. Instead, she let the rope slide along her palm, heating her sleeve until it burned through just as she reached the second-story beams. She swung herself lightly to the new footing. Below, Aranur looked down the street and waved vigorously at Tehena as she came into view six blocks away where she crossed another intersection.

Dion eased herself sideways until she was over the back door frame, then she let go of the rope. She slid down the side of the house, hit the top of the frame, and stalled in place for just a second. Her body began to fall out. Deliberately, she shoved away. She landed with a heavy thud, falling half backward onto the steps as her right leg collapsed beneath her. Twisting like a wolf, she regained her feet. She sprinted down the back door flight and jumped the gate without wasting time to open it.

Aranur caught her arm before she left the ground, lifting her up behind him

on the dnu.

Someone shouted, and Dion looked at Tehena. But it wasn't the other woman. Three raiders had rounded the corner of the street behind Aranur and ahead of Tehena, and they were charging Aranur even now. The tall man didn't wait. He kicked his beast into a gallop.

He would have turned into the side street, but there were two riders there just waiting for them to bolt into their arms. To the east, the two who had crossed a moment before already had their swords out. Aranur saw this at a glance and bolted ahead toward the seawall. Dion clung to his waist with one hand and drew his long knife with her other. Aranur didn't object. The raiders behind them were coming on like a horde of flocking lepa. And behind them, like a forgotten guest, Tehena came at a gallop.

Aranur didn't waste breath talking, and neither did Dion, but both cursed when they hit the waterfront. The road left and right was blocked by moving wagons. Aranur twisted his riding beast in a tight circle, cut off from the other roads. The dnu half reared, and he forced it to face the rushing figures. "It's the seawall or nothing," he shouted over his shoulder.

But Dion caught his arm. "No! Aranur, that's what they want."

"No choice-"

"It's you they're after. Give me the reins. I'll charge them. They don't care

about me. You can get away on foot between the wagons."

"No," he snarled, twisting the dnu again, trapped between blockades. The small knot of raiders thundered straight at them. "Together or not at all."

"Aranur-"

He spurred the riding beast viciously. Dion felt the dnu's muscles gather. In her head, the wolfpack howled. Then the dnu leaped toward the raiders' swords. Aranur hacked and met the first attack on the right, but the raider on the left struck him on the shoulder. The reins went slack as he lost them. The dnu bolted wildly.

Another raider slammed into them from the left, and Dion sliced at the man's arm. The raider cried out as her steel sliced his sleeve. They broke free for an instant only, but one of the raiders hit his target dead-on. It wasn't Aranur, but the dnu, that he struck, and the riding beast screamed and reared fully. For a moment, Aranur and Dion clung to the beast as its middle legs pawed air. Then Aranur yelled, "Jump free."

She hit the road with jarring force, rolling and then tucking into a ball. A dnu leaped her cringing figure. Aranur landed meters away. A sword flashed near her, and she ducked under it and scrambled to her feet. Aranur took another flat blow to his shoulder. He staggered with the force of it. "Back," he snarled at her. "To the wall-"

His voice cut off as two of the raiders charged. Dion jumped for Aranur's side. She lashed out at the raider on the left, and the man danced back. She tripped on the curb behind her. The seawall-it was bare meters away. She lunged up on the sidewalk, twisted as a blade flashed at her, and grabbed the sword hilt of another lunging raider. Viciously, she twisted the blade free.

Aranur was already backed to the wall, but meters away from her. He slammed a raider with a brutal righthand blow as their swords jammed hilt-to-hilt. The raider aimed a kick, but Aranur shifted and took it on his hip instead. Another raider beat at Aranur's arms and head while the first man kept their blades locked. Dion lunged at one of the raiders and was brought up short as Rossotti was suddenly before her. His clean-cut face was so incongruous that she almost pulled her blow. Brutally, the man slammed her back.

Aranur heard her cry. He was suddenly like fire, flickering here then there with speed. As though he had not even been challenged before, he became a blinding weapon. He jerked his blade free and stabbed one raider in the side of the gut. The man screamed hoarsely and had hardly dropped when Aranur dodged around his body, kicking the man as he went.

Dion took a blow on her stolen blade and turned it aside. Took another beat- attack, and felt her rope-torn hands start to weaken. "Damn you," she cursed herself. Then Aranur was beside her. The messenger pulled back.

For an instant, the raiders paused. Five of them circled Aranur and Dion.

Behind them, the others guarded the group against Tehena, who slid off her dnu and ran at them. Blocks away, Kiyun and Gamon thundered down the street.

Aranur was half on his knees, his hands streaked with blood. "Dion," he

gasped. "Let the wolves in."

She stood poised, waiting for the next, inevitable blade to stab in. She couldn't catch her breath. She couldn't answer him. It was all she could do to hold the wild wolves back from enveloping her mind.

"Do it, Dion! Now!"

His voice was filled with urgency. As though his words released her control, she abruptly opened her mind. The packsong flooded in, and the gray rage that had banked inside her skull flamed suddenly into fire. She

didn't know that her eyes flickered yellow or that her stance and posture changed. She didn't know that her lips curled back and her throat tightened into a howl. With the flood of gray that filled her mind, all she could see was movement and contrast; the flash of sunlight on steel.

She lunged with blinding speed.

NeVenklan cut decisively. Dion sidestepped, keeping herself between Aranur and the raiders. Behind her, Aranur grasped the wall and dragged himself up. There was blood seeping through his jerkin, but Dion didn't see it. Her feet were padded, her hands like claws; in her mind, she smelled the raiders' moves before they made them, saw their muscles tighten before they lunged. Some sixth sense read their energies, their attention, the way they focused before they moved. Yellow eyes flickered in her sight. And her mind swam with a gray sea of rage and hunt lust, fired hotter with her need. There was no familiarity between her and these wolves-no sense of restraint, no separation of one from the other. They were wild and raw to

her, not smooth as Hishn was. And opened to them like a bowl to the air, Dion's heart became solid gray.

She slashed inside a raider's reach and cut jerkin, but no skin. She lunged

and beat aside the messenger's blade, then dropped the point of her blade suddenly and stabbed the man in the thigh. He screamed and cursed her but still managed to cut back. Bandrovic appeared beside neVenklan and lunged suddenly across toward Dion. But his blow wasn't aimed at her. It was aimed at Aranur. Dion howled. Lupine speed fed her arms; gray power filled her legs. The steel slid by her ribs toward her mate, and her arm flashed in movement. She parried the blow and it struck stone. Bandrovic's lips stretched-into a smile.

Instinctively, she realized what had happened. Bandrovic had caught her attack, and neVenklan was already past her, parrying Aranur's blow. "Rast!" she screamed, trying to turn. This time Bandrovic's strike was for her.

The force of his blow spun her back against the wall. She hit the stone with brutal force. Grimly, she lunged toward her mate. Aranur was struggling with neVenklan, and the two wrestled desperately along the top of the seawall as another raider rushed in and beat at Aranur's head. Below, the tide cut across the rocks with single-minded intent, and the waves chopped up by the crosswind sucked at the sharp, black boulders.

Bandrovic danced out of Dion's reach and glanced over his shoulder. What he saw made him grim. Gamon and Kiyun were almost at the seawall. Tehena was staggering back, running to keep one raider between her and another. Then Gamon charged past the woman and slammed into one of the raiders. Kiyun slid from his dnu in a single smooth motion, landing half on a raider as he parried the man's blow while catching the man's shoulder with his other hand. The change in the fighting style was almost palpable. Instead of twelve trapping two, it was suddenly five against eight.

Aranur and neVenklan were still pressed against the seawall, but Aranur was using the raider as a shield from the others' blows. Bandrovic took one look at them, then struck hard at Dion, flinging her to the side and lunging past her. He was over the seawall and onto one of the built-in ladders before she could jump back to her feet.

She had barely leaped for the wall when someone grabbed her jerkin, slinging her around. She twisted, knifed the man, then went down with him as his hand stayed locked on the leather. Heavy as lead, the raider's body crushed her to the stone, trapping her leg and hip. She was frantic to wriggle free. Boots lunged by her head, and suddenly there was a flash of steel. A raider woman crouched beside her. Dion snarled viciously and cut awkwardly up from the ground. The woman blocked the blow, then jerked back and fell to her side. Gamon hauled the wolfwalker up.

On the seawall, Aranur heaved neVenklan over to let the man fall to the rocks, but neVenklan wasn't finished. His hand caught in Aranur's belt, half dragging the Ariyen with him. Aranur staggered, off balance. From the side, the others closed in. The first stunning blow caught Aranur on the arm; the second on the temple. His knees buckled.

Dion screamed inarticulately and lashed out without control. The fury of her attack was almost frightening. But there were four raiders now between her and the seawall, and two were putting a rope around her mate while the others tried to haul up neVenklan. Kiyun smashed into the group, and one of the raiders barely beat the burly man off. The other man holding Aranur's arms was caught by Dion's thrown knife. The raider arched awkwardly, then toppled toward the rocks below. That man broke the hold of the others on neVenklan, and neVenklan grabbed again at Aranur. This time the Ariyen was dragged over the wall.

Like lightning, the other raiders lunged. One of them grabbed the rope around Aranur's chest; the other grabbed his arm. Dion somehow melted through the fighting. She ripped a knife from someone's belt and slashed the hands that grabbed at her. Someone jostled the raider with the rope, and the man cursed as he lost his grip. He barely blocked the blow aimed at his heart. He wasn't so lucky with the other strike.

The other raider still clutched Aranur's arm, holding the Ariyen from falling. For a moment, Dion and he were side by side, reaching down to the gray-eyed man. Aranur hung with neVenklan's weight on his belt, dangling against the seawall. Together, raider and wolfwalker half pulled them up until they got one of Aranur's arms over the stone wall. Then another man, dodging Kiyun's blade, slammed into the man beside Dion. The raider lost his grip on Aranur's shoulder. Some instinct warned the raider, and he half twisted to see steel cutting for his back. He jerked, jarring Dion and shoving her aside. She lost her hold on her mate. Someone grabbed at her arms as she fell back. Aranur's grip, weak on the stone, slipped. Dion cursed wildly and fought against the hands. And as she struggled, with a short, strangled cry, Aranur let go.

XV.

Where is hope.

When you can no longer hold it?