SOUL SEARCH

(c) 2001 Acheron. Do not distribute. If you think someone would like to see it, send them here.

It was a small village, home to about thirty adults and forty children. It was built out on the lake, the huts held up by varnished wooden stilts and sturdy rock piles. A network of suspension bridges linked the buildings to each other and to the shore, sturdy wooden planks and pitch-smeared rope. Here and there on the boardwalks, on the shore, and in the water, the village's citizens, young and old alike, went about their work and play. The sun was shining and even the busiest of the otter-like people seemed to be, as was typical of the Ae-Tsan, enjoying themselves and their lives.

Except one.

That one was an adolescent male, wearing knee-long blue trousers secured by a black leather belt, a long ebony-and-beech harpoon leaning against the rail beside him, sat some distance apart from the others, on a bridge leading to the broad, open central platform. He was watching a pair of slightly older Ae-Tsan, male and female, at one side of that platform. Both were nude, cuddling very close together. Other Ae-Tsan, noticing them, either looked curiously for a few moments(if they were young) or just smiled and nodded(if they were adults or older adolescents) before going on their way.

Except that one.

Xander Kaldryke, Chieftain's son, couldn't stop watching.

He was confused. He knew males mated with females, and now and again had a kit as a result. So he should be experimenting with his female friends, each learning about each other's body and their own. Eventually he should sire a child.

So why, instead of lingering on the female's figure, taking in the swell of her breasts and the opening of her sex, were his eyes drawn to the male's sleek, tapered body, to the flow of his toned muscles, to the pink that slowly pushed out from his swollen sheath?

For whatever reason, though, it was happening, and as he watched, Xander felt a tightness in his shorts. He didn't at all want the female any closer than a friend... but watching Arryn, seeing the nineteen-year-old hunter's body twitch and tremble as his partner's claws lightly touched his flesh, Xander longed, even ached to be in her place, to feel the hunter's muscle answer his touch, to feel the heat of his sex...

A paw landed on his shoulder. "Xander," a soft voice murmured.

Xander opened his eyes with a gasp, and looked up. Guiltily he slid his paw out of his shorts.

Arel Kaldryke, Chieftain of Caertsan, his father, smiled down at him. "There will be time for that later, son," he said, "but Shiel wishes to speak with you now. Be prompt, and he'll likely not keep you long." He bent down and kissed Xander's ear. "I'm nothing but proud of you, Xander. You're growing up into a fine young man... in all respects, it seems."

Awkwardly Xander stood, shifting his trousers a little to make himself more comfortable. "What does the shaman—" He bit it off. "I will go to him now, father."

Another kiss, this time on the cheek, which Xander returned; and the Chieftain continued on his way. Xander glanced back at the couple, saw Arryn working his maleness under his mate's tail, thought I'd like that, then turned and dove over the railing before he got distracted again.

The shaman's hut had no doors above water; the only way inside was to swim under the surface, navigate a small ebony-walled maze, and come up through a hole in the floor. The maze's purpose was not to confuse; even the youngest child could get through it. It just kept intruders away who couldn't stay underwater long enough to get through it. The nursery was built the same way.

Xander paused on the rope ladder, letting the water slide off his fur, before he climbed up into the wide room. The many shelves were stocked full of a wide variety of things, but the room itself was neat, all the cots unoccupied.

Shiel swung down from his own hammock and stood. The shaman was a curious sight to look upon. Instead of the dark brown sides and back and creamy front that most Ae-Tsan bore, his fur was gleaming white, with black glyphs dyed into it here and there. His pale eyes gleamed red in the soft candlelight as he smiled at the youth. "Good morning, Xander. You are well?"

"Yes, shaman," Xander said, inclining his head. "My father said you wished to see me."

A nod. "Sit down, Xander."

Xander felt a sudden chill in his guts as he complied. The shaman's tone was gentle, but some undercurrent to it suggested that this was anything but a simple conversation. As Xander hadn't done much recently that was worthy enough of praise to warrant this interview, that left the other direction, and with a sick certainty the youth knew what this was about...

"You're growing into a fine young man," Shiel told him, standing behind him, his webbed paws gently kneading Xander's shoulders. "Mind, body, and heart are all maturing quite nicely... but I and a few others have noticed something about you... specifically, about how you look at people..."

Xander swallowed. There was no point in trying to lie his way through it. "Yes, shaman," he whispered. "I... I find other males... attractive."

The shaman's paws squeezed on his shoulders. "This is not Nature's way, young one. We are given these urges so that we will have young ones and further our race, and only a male and a female can conceive."

"I know," he whimpered. "I... I've tried. Tried to get myself to look at women and not men. I just can't..."

Shiel gave him a pat between the shoulders. "Perhaps you need some time to yourself, Xander. Go out into the untamed lands on your own, and sort out your thoughts. Return when you know your mind. If you still need help to sort this out, at least you'll be better for having more experience."

Xander twisted around to look up at the older Ae-Tsar. "My father...?"

"Does not know," Shiel confirmed. "This is your business, young one. Let him be proud of you without having to worry about you any more than he must as you are gone."

Xander nodded. "Then I will say my farewells, and leave today."

The shaman cupped a paw under his pupil's chin. "You're a good lad – honest with everyone, even yourself. That will take you far."

It was nice to be out of the village; away from its temptations and condemnations, free to contemplate his life and the world in general. Going downstream, he could just drift, letting the currents of the river carry him as did the currents of time.

Night fell, and after cooking a meal over a small fire, he ate by its light and thought. Was it really so wrong? He'd been made this way; why was the onus on him to change?

His sleep was uneasy, plagued by shadowy dreams. Morning came all too soon. He packed his few possessions, slung his harpoon over his back, and slid into the water.

The Cliath River was wider here, and slower. It meandered this way and that, the thick vegetation making it hard to see more than ten lengths. Many incautious people had lost their lives around here. Gripping his harpoon firmly, Xander paddled along, scanning the shores as his slender body eeled through the water.

Thus he saw the dark figure on the inner bank of a curve an instant before the wolf saw him.

Both of them froze, staring. The large black being was a harrkahn, with a bushy tail, long pointed snout, short whiskers, large ears, in short, a wolf-like humanoid. This particular harrkahn was pitch black, with not one pale fur on his body.

Not one stitch of clothing, either. A loincloth lay discarded beside him, and in its place was only one broad paw.

Holding as still as he could, which wasn't very, Xander sank a bit further into the water. Part of him, terrified, sought only to flee as fast as he could swim; another was spellbound by the vista of masculinity before him.

Oh, gods – I was supposed to get away from this sort of temptation...

A smile spread across the lupine muzzle, a gentle smile, not showing teeth. "Good morning, little friend," he rumbled in a deep bass. "Come closer, share the sun; I will not harm you."

Xander stayed where he was, trembling.

The harrkahn's expression was distant, his amber eyes seeming to see right through the much smaller ae-tsar. "There are great times ahead of you, young one," he intoned. "Come sit with me. I may be able to counsel you."

Gradually Xander shifted into a standing position, the water lapping at his chest. "Are you a...?"

"I am a seer," the other declared. "My name is Marak, and I run with the Akhelon tribe. You, young sir... you have the look of a Kaldryke about you. Am I right?"

Xander felt exposed, utterly defenceless. One of his hands lost its grip on his harpoon; the other was so tight, the carvings in the ebony seemed etched into his palm. All he could do was nod.

With a rumbling chuckle, Marak waved him over. "There's a certain quality to the fur of your family, lad. Come; I saw you looking at me. Look closer – there's no harm in it."

The ae-tsar took a careful step toward the shore before guilt seized him "But – but the shaman said—"

"Never mind that," the harrkahn crooned. "What do you think? Does it feel right to you?"

More and more, Xander's gaze was drawn down the great, powerful body. "Y-y-yes?"

"Come here, young Kaldryke..."

Trembling, Xander stepped out of the water. His breath caught when he saw just what the huge paw was resting on.

The other paw reached forward and closed around one of Xander's, thick fingers kneading the ae-tsar's palm. "What is your name, my friend, and how many winters have you seen?"

"Xander. I'm... I'm seventeen..."

"A confusing age indeed. I remember it well, being just a year past it myself. But I was taught to listen to my body, for it will tell me what is natural." He lifted Xander's paw and touched it to his cool, damp nose. "What does your body tell you, Xander?"

Just a year older, but so much more confident... so large, so strong, so wise... even with his eyes closed, Xander could see every detail of that sculpted body.

His thoughts ran in crazy circles...

Thank the gods. Someone who understands!

But he's male!

So?

This can't be right.

He says it is!

He's from a different race –

And he's absolutely beautiful!

Xander opened his eyes. Marak was still there, and the smile on his dark face warmed Xander's heart as a sunrise would his body. The last feeble protests died away.

What I want... is this.

His harpoon fell unheeded to the soft loam. He reached forward with the paw thus freed, conscious of the golden eyes watching its progress. His fingers brushed across the damp fur of Marak's chest, which quivered with the harrkahn's sharp intake of breath. His own lungs inflating with a disbelieving gasp, Xander worked his fingers under the soft fur and touched the hard muscle beneath.

This couldn't be happening. And yet – it was. It was most definitely happening. That was another man's arm that was curling around his shoulders, gently but eagerly pulling him close. It was another man's deep voice that rumbled in his ear.

"Heart," Marak breathed. "Mind. Body. When they are in balance, you will achieve Harmony... Passion, Wisdom, and Power working together will not steer you wrong." His teeth pricked at Xander's ear, sending shivers through the ae-tsar's body that had nothing to do with pain.

"They must grow together," Marak went on. "The body by doing, the mind by learning, the heart by feeling. The last will be hardest for you – what makes you feel good will be at odds with the standards of your people. But there will be someone near you with whom to share it." His warm tongue caressed Xander's ear. "For this time, I am yours, Xander. Do, learn, and feel with me as you will."

Closing his eyes, Xander concentrated on feeling the Harrkahn's strong body, the taut skin over firm, hot muscle. His webbing bound on Marak's erect nipple, evoking a long, growling moan. Then his touch strayed down to the flat belly, and there it lingered.

It was enough. Just being close to him was enough... just being understood, and welcome. Xander settled himself in Marak's lap. His breath caught at the hardness he felt against his leg. "Oh. I... I interrupted..."

"I'm glad you did. Just having someone against me is much, much better than anything I could do on my own."

All the same, Xander couldn't help but feel just a bit guilty. It was curiosity, though, that made him reach out and touch the bare skin.

A soft, desirous whine escaped Marak's throat. "Xander..."

He pulled his hand away. I can't... can't be his lover. I'll find that person he told me about, the one who can understand. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't..." What was the best word...? "Tease your body."

Sighing a little, but smiling as he did, the tip of his tail swaying, Marak kissed Xander's ear, wrapping his strong arms around the ae-tsar's thin body. "You will be a fine lover for a fine man," he murmured. "I have seen this, and you have doubly confirmed it. But know this. The Fates have decreed that great change is coming, and you will play an important role in their great game. The winds will carry you far – but you will not be alone. Friends and allies will ever be with you – and love. I see true, strong love in your future. You..." His lips brushed at Xander's ear as he whispered, "You have learned to listen to yourself. Do so, and you will know who is the right person for you. But take care not to hear what others want you to. You, and you alone, know what is right for you."

The low murmur was compelling, almost hypnotic, softly flowing over his mind like water. By the time Marak's speech was finished, Xander was barely awake.

Rocking Xander in his arm, Marak reached over with his other hand and draped something over Xander's neck. The youth roused enough to look at it. A bronze pendant lay on his chest, hanging from a leather thong, the polished surface inscribed with a complex, seemingly random pattern of lines. At the heart of that pattern was a single emerald.

"When you can understand the meaning of this," Marak told him, "you will have learned much. But you have had a long, full day. Rest now... rest until morning, and wake refreshed..."

But Xander was already asleep, curled in the harrkahn's sheltering embrace.

"You've changed, Xander."

The youth set down his harpoon and whetstone, and looked up. "I learned about myself, shaman."

Shiel nodded and touched Xander's shoulders. "You have gained much confidence, I see... enough that you don't jump up to your feet just because I happen to be here. Good. Anything else?"

Firmly, he said, "I know what nature intends for me, shaman."

The white ae-tsar beamed. "Then you have done well. I knew you had it in you, lad." They kissed each other's cheeks, and the shaman went about his business.

Xander continued to sharpen his spear. I'm lucky he didn't ask what that is, he reflected. It wouldn't feel good, having to lie to him. But however well he sees, he only sees in one direction.

He packed his whetstone, stood, and went home. Nobody else was around; his mother was overseeing the building of a new set of huts, his father attending children in the nursery, his brothers and sisters all playing or learning. Given this rare moment of privacy, he reached into his pouch and took out the amulet he had been given.

If it was supposed to have a meaning, he couldn't see it. But the pattern was pleasing, and looking at it helped to calm his thoughts, so that he could sort them out.

He couldn't change himself. But he could be more discreet. Nobody here held more than a mild attraction in his eyes; nothing like the Harrkani seer had described. Perhaps that person was yet to come. At any rate, it wouldn't be too hard for him to keep his desires to himself.

Carefully packing the amulet away, Xander slept, and dreamt his forbidden dreams.

A year passed more-or-less uneventfully. Xander wasn't the fastest hunter in the village, nor was he the strongest. But he was among the smartest. He struck rarely, but always to great effect.

The pendant still didn't mean anything to him, but contemplating it did help him to keep calm when times were rough. Nobody else in the village knew he had it, and if anyone noticed that he was still looking at men, he never heard about it.

One mild autumn night, while away from the village on a somewhat-unsuccessful hunting trip, he sat considering that pattern, letting himself be drawn deeper and deeper into it... and suddenly shivered. The world about him seemed somehow... sharper, every movement plain to him, every detail revealed in dazzling colour. The gem at the pendant's centre seemed to flare and pulse with inner light.

What's going on?

The design still looked much the same to him... except, as he looked at it, the lines seemed to naturally flow to the jewel.

Motion caught his eye. Before he knew what he was doing, he had picked up his harpoon and flung it into the screen of brush. There was an animal scream, quickly cut off.

Puzzled, he stood and walked over to the brush. Sure enough, his throw had dealt quite handily with the rabbit he found there, slicing along its throat and lodging in a tree just beyond.

This was strange. That would have been an almost impossible throw even if the rabbit had been standing still in plain sight. As it was...

Maybe there's something to this pendant after all.

Added to the rest of the fish and small game he had, this plump buck rabbit would be enough for one trip. He bundled the lot into a net and started home.

The next morning he sat on the riverbank, idly gazing upstream as he sharpened his harpoon, and suddenly frowned.

He saw movement on the river. That in and of itself was nothing unusual, but... this was approaching fast.

A few moments later, he could make out the details. It was an ae-tsan river boat, bearing three figures – one of them frantically poling along – and a small pile of luggage. The two other figures were standing at the stern, one of them wearing a cloak and wielding a bow, the other white-furred and wielding a short sword.

Seconds later, the poling figure – visibly an ae-tsar, though with the darker fur that marked him as a coast-dweller – called out, "There's a shade following us!"

A shade. Such a simple word – but it chilled Xander's heart.

He shouted an alarm. Instantly the village was a flurry of activity, children rushing for their homes, hunters and warriors arming themselves and rushing to defensive positions, bridges being unpinned from their shore supports and pulled out into the water.

Xander moved back and joined the throng of hunters on the beach. The boat moved out into the open water, safe – shades, fortunately, couldn't swim. After a few moments, Xander realised that the sword-wielded was on the river bank immediately beside him. He was shorter than Xander, as was typical of the mouse-like Tamaxos, but about the same age, at the upper end of adolescence. His slender frame sported more muscle, especially on his limbs, than was typical of ae-tsan, and he looked very confident with the blade in his hand. He wore only loose trousers, and the fur in a number of places about his body was cut short and dyed in intricate markings.

He looked over to Xander, raising his sword; Xander met his gaze, shifting his grip on his harpoon. They both turned to watch up the river.

It came from the trees, a bounding, leaping thing, a barely-visible shadow of fur and claw. Almost impossible to look at directly, it seemed to be in more than one place at a time. The effect was very disorienting – and that was its strength.

Harpoons were thrown, but none of them met its mark. The vaguely canine beast came ever closer.

The hunters did the one thing they could do. They charged in, weapons flashing, trying to surround it and confuse it. But though they strove mightily, they could never hit the thing. Shadows were flitting all about, and it was almost impossible to tell which one was which.

Almost was evidently the key word, though. The Tamaxos held back for a while, considering, before striking. He didn't hit the thing, but his attack did cause it to hiss and dodge out of the way, toward the river.

This wasn't working, though. Sooner or later, the shade would get a little bolder, and strike for effect. They needed a way to hit it before that happened.

Xander watched the play of shadows. Maybe there was a pattern of some sort to it.

Just as there was to the amulet Marak had given him...

Those twisting lines hovered before his eyes now, seeming almost alive, writhing in his mind's eye... their shifting getting ever closer to that of the shadows he saw.

Suddenly it made sense. A wave of vertigo washed over him, followed by a sense of complete grounding, total awareness of where he stood in the world, and how it lay around him. No blade of grass stirred save that he was aware of it.

Now the distinction between the flittering phantasms, and the hulking beast itself, was as clear to him as that between black and white.

Somehow it seemed to be aware of this, for it turned to face him, baring teeth in a snarl. Then it was rushing toward him.

Xander swallowed. I will not fear, he thought. If fear holds me I am lost...

He raised his harpoon, taking aim.

Death was coming to one of them.

On the heels of that thought came a strange feeling of detachment, as though this was naught but a dream, subject to the whims of his own mind.

Then there was a wrenching sensation, a sense of being drained of some vital energy.

Light seemed to flow from his body along his arm and into the harpoon, which launched itself out of his hand, screaming through the air. The shade yowled and tried to avoid it, but the bronze-tipped shaft flew straight and true, lancing into the beast's black chest. The force of the blow was such that the shade was knocked howling into the water.

His bone knife slipping from its arm sheath and into his waiting hand, Xander followed.

What possessed him, he could not say. But the shade was at its clumsiest now, whereas he was in his element. In seconds he was on the thing's back, one arm wrapped tight around its neck, too close to it for its flailing claws to reach; and from that vantage point he buried his knife to the hilt in its throat.

With a gurgling howl, it flung him off to slam heavily into the riverbed, stunned; but his strike had done its work. The shade's flailing lessened, became more spastic, until at last it stilled.

Xander let himself rise to the surface and stared at the giant corpse.

What just happened?

Whatever it was, it brought him a great deal of attention. Every hunter and warrior in the village kept coming up to him and asking how he'd done it, and all he could do was tell them the honest answer that he didn't know. With all that happening, it wasn't until after he'd skinned the shade and set its hide to tan that he managed to meet any of the newcomers.

Kirian Aerclan, the ae-tsar who'd brought them downstream, seemed to be quite a sociable fellow. More of a listener than a talker, and as it turned out, a bit slow on the uptake, but well-meaning, clear-thinking, and quite attractive to boot. The local females certainly seemed to agree with Xander's assessment of that last... they didn't behave any differently than normal, but he overheard them saying so, causing the ocean-dweller's ears to flush a little. That, of course, only made him seem cuter.

Mateo Corman, the cloaked figure with the longbow, turned out to be human; a healer from the distant land of Callantar. Xander didn't hear much about his business, but it seemed to be fairly urgent – not so much so, however, that he was averse to lingering for a few days.

And finally, there was Korel.

Korel di Cahalin, son of a tamaxos warlord. Even before learning his name, as he'd been preparing the hide for tanning, Xander hadn't been able to get the Tamaxos out of his head. In some ways, he looked quite a bit like some of the ae-tsan warriors. But in others, he was totally, irrefutably different. Stronger, faster, softer-furred. And those big, round ears... he just wanted to sit and stroke them...

When Korel glanced over and caught him looking, Xander's heart leaped into his throat.

Then the tamaxos gave him a small, knowing smile.

Better. Much, much better.

Smiling to himself and feeling more than a little warm, Xander went back to his business.

Sunny days followed, during which Mateo spent a great deal of time speaking with the village elders. Though Xander's father was heavily involved in these discussions, he himself didn't hear any details. On one hand, he really didn't need to; he wasn't in charge of anything around here, after all. But still, ae-tsan were by and large a curious people, and his curiosity was piqued.

It was the third night by the time he managed to actually sit down and talk with one of them. By absolutely no coincidence, the one he had managed to gravitate toward was Korel, on one of the platforms at the western edge of the city, overlooking the lake. The tamaxos looked up from sharpening his sword, set his things to the side, and smiled. "Finally found a free moment, I see."

Xander nodded, sitting on the planks beside him, legs hanging over the edge. "I wanted to be at the welcome banquet, but I had to take care of that hide right away."

"True, you can't let it spoil." Korel nodded, then half-turned toward Xander, extending one arm, palm-up. "I don't think we've been formally introduced. I am Korel di Cahalin."

Vaguely familiar with Tamaxos customs, Xander put his own arm over Korel's, gripping his wrist, his own getting a squeeze in return. "Xander Kaldryke."

"Ah, yes... the chieftain's eldest, am I right?" Xander nodded. "I'm my father's youngest, myself," Korel went on. "Still, it seems like we both have a few things in common. Both living in our fathers' shadows, both expected to live up to their names... neither of us given any special treatment to balance this extra responsibility." He smiled. "It does have its advantages, though. Right alongside being expected to travel is the fact that when we do, we can meet all sorts of interesting people." A lazy wink.

Xander's breath caught. Was he suggesting...?

Korel shuffled a bit closer, looking out over the lake at the rising moon. "One nice thing about you ae-tsan," he observed, "is that individual deeds tend to have less of an effect on your public regard. Where I come from, if I did what you did and faced down that shade, I'd have every female in the tribe pawing at me. Here that wouldn't happen any more than usual." A pause. "Do you get much of that?"

Xander blushed, grateful for the darkness that hid the flush in his ears. "Some," he admitted.

Korel smiled and laid a hand on Xander's leg. "It's easy to see why... you're tall, sleek, smart... and brave! There aren't many who could stare down a shade's throat as you did, Xander, even with the finest enchanted arsenal in their possession. And you did so with a javelin and knife! I must say, Xander," and he leaned close, murmuring into his ear, "that was very impressive." Squeezing the ae-tsar's thigh, Korel straightened. "How did you do that, though? That shade was thrice your weight or more – a simple throw shouldn't have been able to knock it that far back."

"I don't know," Xander admitted. "People have been asking me that constantly... I just don't know. I didn't even throw it. It went by itself."

Korel blinked, and his brow furrowed for a moment in thought. Then he looked up. "Well, following after was quite brave of you as well, and that was all your own skill. Nevertheless... maybe you have hidden talents, hm?" He flashed Xander another heart-warming smile. "Maybe you should consult with the tuatha; they are wise in magical ways. We'll be going that way ourselves, in the morning. It would be nice to have a bit more company."

Xander reached for and found Korel's hand. "Really?" Their fingers intertwined, and he leaned forward.

"Certes," was the soft reply.

Finally Xander let himself return the smile. "If there's no more room on that boat of yours, I'm pretty good with a clipper..." The triangular face was a fair bit closer now, grey eyes shining in the moonlight.

"Either way," Korel murmured. Further conversation was forestalled as his lips brushed against Xander's, his breath warm on the ae-tsar's cheek. Just for a moment they touched; but after a moment, the two of them answered some mutual urge and pulled closer together, mouths joining.

"Xander?"

The sudden, nearby holler made his heart skip a beat. Judging by the look on Korel's face, the tamaxos was equally aware of the local sentiments. The two of them hurried to disentangle themselves...

"Xander!"

...but not quickly enough.

Shiel's face, as he paced over to the pair, was... blank. That was enough to confirm Xander's worst fears. Swallowing, he stood.

Accusations... always the accusations. Hauled before the entire Council of Elders in the middle of the night, enduring more ill-will in the course of an hour than they usually gave out in a year... and his father. The look on Arel Kaldryke's face, both devastated and devastating.

The Elders, for the most part, were disappointed. It was the shaman who was angry. His notion of natural hadn't changed in the past year. To him, "following one's nature" was not quite the absolute he sometimes said it was.

And so Xander was taken to an as-yet-unused hut on the edge of the village, supposedly to meditate and "see the error of his ways." Locked in, "for his own good."

Nothing was ever locked in this village. But here he was, penned like some dangerous animal.

This just isn't fair! His fists thudded against the bare wall, and he slowly slid down to the floor.

Korel, of course, was not an ae-tsar and thus couldn't speak before the Council of Elders on an ae-tsan affair. In fact, many of the accusations had centred around approaching an honoured guest "inappropriately." They felt certain Korel's father would be angered and come to punish them for Xander's misdeeds.

Of course, there was never mention of finding out what Korel thought would happen...

Korel. That was the main thing.

During just that little ill-fated conversation, Xander had come to like him. A lot. Like him, and then some. He could put up with all of this and more – except for the fact that once the trio left in the morning, he'd probably never see the tamaxos again. That, more than anything, hurt.

But they couldn't keep him in here forever. And when they let him go, there was nobody in the village who could catch him, none who had ranged as far as him. Even if he never saw Korel again, he would be away from this hypocrisy, away for good.

On this resolve came the strength to sleep – and sleep he did.

For perhaps an hour, until the door swung open and nudged his foot.

A dark-furred head poked in out of the night; Kirian, dripping wet. "This isn't right," he was muttering. "Just for being himself... Oh!" He'd caught sight of Xander, there beside him.

Xander caught his arm, silencing him with a hand under his chin. "Just answer me. Are you getting me out of here?"

Kirian nodded. "We'll head out now, before it gets light out."

Somehow Xander doubted this was solely Kirian's idea. As for Mateo, he and the human hadn't even spoken two words to each other.

I've got a lot to thank Korel for... last night, and now this. So long as I'll have the chance to do so, that'll be more than enough.

All he needed was to collect a few things and get gone. "Let's go," he said softly.

Nobody on the walk. So far so good. But though Kirian had evidently got here by swimming, a splash could attract unwanted attention. Best to walk there – and along the outside of the village, where running into someone was less likely.

However, Arryn Coulan was right around the corner, harpoon in hand.

"Where are you going?" he exclaimed, making Xander wince at the volume. "The Elders said you were supposed to—"

He didn't see the figure behind him until a hand was laid on the back of his neck. He started to whirl around – but never got there, collapsing even as he spun, falling right into the figure's arms.

Mateo set the limp body gently on the planks, then stood and looked Xander over. He himself was presently dressed in loose trousers and a short-sleeved shirt, both of which stuck to his body wherever they touched it. Long, raven-black hair fell past his shoulders, presently wet. Moonlight glinted off his smooth dusky skin, and his intensely blue eyes gleamed.

"We should get moving," he said, and turned.

"What about Arryn?" Xander hissed, moving up beside the human. The young hunter had just been doing his job, he hadn't deserved to be hurt because of it.

A chuckle. "He's just asleep. He'll wake up and not remember any of this." He spoke the ae-tsan language fluently enough, but his accent was very... sharp. Not all that distinct; but the feel of it was quite different than most.

Fortunately Xander kept his things in the foyer of his home; he was able to grab them without anyone being the wiser. There was just one thing left, and that was on the mainland.

There was no need to hide his pendant now; his tooth-trophy went onto that same leather thong, and that in turn went around his neck. They arrived at the docks to find Korel tying things down by the light of the setting moon. The instant he saw Xander, he gave the rope one last tug and jumped off the deck. "All done," he said to Mateo as he passed by, to take Xander's hands in his own.

They just stood there for a few seconds, looking at each other and grinning like fools. Xander was first to break that stillness, bending down to touch his nose to the side of Korel's neck. "Thank you," he whispered.

Korel stroked the back of his head. "Mateo was first to suggest letting you go," he admitted, "but only by a few heartbeats. Do you have everything you need?"

"Almost. I might as well take my clipper... and there's something I want on the shore. I'll go get it, and meet you... where?"

"This clipper, can it hold two? I've never seen one up close before..."

Xander nodded. "For a little bit, anyway, though not with much in the way of cargo."

Korel pulled Xander closer. "Leave your things on our cutter. I'll come with you." Xander opened his mouth to reply, but the tamaxos cut him off. "I know we've hardly more than met each other, but I want to make sure we get the chance for more. The last time we got separated was very nearly permanent. I don't want to take unnecessary risks of that happening again."

Dear gods, he knew exactly what to say... Xander very much didn't want that, either. His pack joined the rest on the cutter. "That way," he said, pointing.

"We'll meet you at the lake outlet," Korel said to Mateo, "or sooner." The human nodded, gave them a knowing smile, and hopped onto the deck with Kirian, the two of them starting to cast off.

In contrast to the two-sailed, fair-sized cutter, an ae-tsan clipper was a tiny little affair, consisting of a central hull joined to two side pontoons. That main hull had two compartments: one for the pilot, the other in front of it, normally for baggage but also capable of seating a passenger. Korel got in front with the ease of long practise; Xander took up his paddle, untied the painter, and settled behind him.

The lake was eerily still. Every sound he made seemed ten times louder than usual, and he kept looking over his shoulder to see if he'd attracted any attention. But if anyone saw them, they dismissed it as nothing unusual and raised no fuss.

At last the bow nudged into the muck of the shore.

Xander hopped out and waded onto dry land; Korel gingerly tread along the hull and jumped the little distance to the grass. Their destination was a barely-visible silhouette hulking before them.

Korel recognised it, despite the lack of light. "That can't be ready yet. A hide that size takes weeks to tan properly..." But he went up and touched the black fur. "Sweet gods. I knew your tanners were good, but this..."

Xander smiled as he started taking the shade's hide off the rack. "The shaman helped, I think." He bundled it up in the very cords that had stretched it out in the sun. "Now, let's get out of here before false dawn."

Korel was all too glad to comply.

The tamaxos held onto the fur for the trip, leaving Xander free to paddle along. About half way across the lake, he let the clipper drift along and turned for a moment to look back at the only home he had ever known.

Then, resolute, he turned his gaze forward. They had denied him; his future now was with the ones who had welcomed him.

They met the other two at the end of the lake; Korel gingerly hopped over to the clipper and tied the fur with the rest of Xander's things, then lent the other two a very welcome hand. Xander reached over and opened a compartment in the right pontoon, taking out and setting up the pieces of his own mast, then into the left for the sail. A breeze was picking up, and they all wanted to make the most of it.

The wind and the current carried them swiftly downstream, until the sun came up and the river took a bend westward. Mateo declared that they'd stop here, where the river was wide and slow, and catch up on the sleep they'd all missed during the night.

After hauling his little craft onto the bank and furling the sail, Xander took a small net and went fishing. It was only fair, as he observed to Mateo; they'd set him free quite some time earlier than he could have managed on his own, so to start repaying that he'd see to the meal, supplementing their rations with something fresh.

A few fish were easy enough to catch, and soon he was heating them up with the rations.

"So." Mateo delivered a bundle of fuel, and sat beside him. "I never heard the details of why you were being held, Xander. Would you care to tell me, or would you rather it stayed silent?"

Xander poked at the coals. "But I thought getting me out was your idea..."

"You were being punished for harming no one," Mateo said. "That is all I was able to determine – you had caused nobody harm, nor even inconvenience, but you were not permitted to leave that small space. 'tis wrong, to restrain someone so, and Kargon's code demanded that I take action."

Silence.

Slowly Xander leaned back from the fire and looked over. "What – what is an Acolyte of Kargon doing here?" He swallowed. One of that holy order would only be so far from home if there was serious trouble brewing...

Mateo chuckled. "It's true, our Order has become cloistered... but our abbot is sending us out in the world to reverse that trend. I'm here to do as the Brethren ought; travel the land, see to it that life is going as it should."

"Is it?"

The human took a breath.

...And the cookpot abruptly sizzled, water boiling over. Xander rushed to tend to it.

The meal was a fairly simple affair, sort of a stew combining the preserved rations with the fish and a few local herbs. It was much better-tasting than the little bit of rations Xander had sampled before starting, but different from the fish that was so much the staple of an ae-tsar's life. For something improvised on the spot, it wasn't too bad.

Xander cleaned up the dishes afterward, thinking. Mateo hadn't answered his question... well, to be fair, Xander hadn't answered his, either, and he was quite a bit more comfortable that way.

Everything was packed. Now... he hadn't had more than a quick little swim in the past few days. He'd give himself a good scrubbing, then get to bed. Down to the river he went.

Picking out a navigable spot down the steep bank, he started undoing his belt. It had been far too long since he last felt water all around him... it would be good to be clean, really clean. He stepped out of his trousers and folded them carefully on the ground; then, hands warily held behind him, he slithered down the bank and into the water.

A sharp intake of breath to one side told him he'd made something of a mistake.

Korel was mostly submerged, and his head – the only part of him above the surface – was quite wet. The water was slightly murky from Xander's rough entry, but not enough so that Xander couldn't see the young warrior's body quite clearly – more so than usual, now that the storm-grey fur was slicked down against his body. The paler, natural fur was rendered almost transparent, letting Xander see a hint of the pink flesh underneath, and the raised, slightly darker bumps of his nipples. The black-dyed markings stood out in vivid contrast, winding all over his body.

Following that pattern, Xander suddenly noticed a place that didn't have any fur on it at all...

Swallowing, he turned his gaze forward. His ears were flushing; he ducked his head under the water to conceal that. "Sorry," he said when he lifted his face back out of the water, trying not to think too hard of the wiry body a few feet away from him.

After a moment's pause, Korel started splashing around a bit, presumably working the water under his fur. "You're very cool about this," he observed, a worried note in his voice.

Xander rubbed at his arms, parting the oily guard hairs so the water could get in underneath. "I'm an ae-tsar," he pointed out. "Unless everyone in the village was being careful because of their guests —"

"Believe you me, they were not."

The fervour of that remark brought a smile to Xander's face. The typical ae-tsan lack of inhibition was probably why Korel was in that state anyway. "It's your business," he went on, "and you should get your privacy even if we're right beside each other." Which, unfortunately, they weren't, not quite.

Not that he'd mind the tamaxos watching him, anyway... but he was special.

"Still... I can't possibly believe that doesn't take some time to get used to."

Xander grimaced. "It's the only option I've had. Even then I had to be careful not to look at anyone while I was doing it..."

A sigh; then Korel shifted about in the water. "Xander... what would you do if someone were to watch you as you bathe?" After a moment's pause, he added, "Not merely chancing to see you... actively trying to do so. It's something that I found somewhat troubling in Caertsan."

Don't get your hopes up. We still don't know each other.

"That depends on the person who's looking," Xander replied. "And even if I don't like it... I'm used to it. People have seen me bathe, and more than bathe, my whole life." Now or never. Go. "Actually... right now I think I'd like it."

After a moment's pause Korel said, "I think I might like that as well."

They both looked over, and their eyes met. They smiled. Then they started to look down.

Xander felt his breath catch as he took in the short, muscular body. And not just the body, but everything about him; the way he spoke, the gleam in his eyes, his ready smile...

The sudden touch of cool water on his loins brought him back to the present. The tip of his maleness was poking out of his sheath and into the water. Ears flushed and hot, he started to put his hand over the offending flesh.

And paused.

Why not? he thought, his hand returning to his chest. Why in the Three Oceans not?

"I think our bodies are trying to tell us something," Korel murmured, his voice a little breathier than usual.

Xander shook his head – not in denial, but confusion. "This feels so strange. My whole life I've been told that this isn't the way of things..."

"Not so strong, for me... but my father is disappointed, I think. He feels I should be continuing the bloodline, though the gods know I have brothers and sisters enough for that..."

"For a moment," Xander went on, "I almost believed the shaman. I tried to look only at the females; I failed. But even if I'd been able to do that..." He swallowed. "I don't think I could help myself now."

Korel's breath hissed into his lungs. "Xander, I... I'm flattered. Amazed that such a one in yourself, beautiful in mind and body, would be silenced by his own people... and seeing how your body responds to mine..." A heavy sigh. "Too fast. This is too fast. We've not had nearly enough time to learn about each other..."

Xander glanced at the other's hips, then down to his own stiff member. "But we shouldn't go back to the campsite like this."

Korel grimaced. "Probably not. There is no need for them to speculate on what may never happen. Still... the only way I know of removing the body's desire... is to sate it. Somehow."

"I..." He started to get up to his feet. "I'll go around the bend, if my being so close makes you uncomfortable—"

"No!" The sudden vehemence caught Xander off-guard; he sank back into the river with a definite splash. "No," Korel repeated, "you need not. I... would like to see you, if that is well with you. And I would like you to see me."

A warm, warm smile spread across Xander's face. This might work out very well indeed...

He pushed himself over to the river's other bank, directly across from Korel. A few feet separated them, but the water was clear and they could see each other quite well.

Korel made no move to begin.

He's not accustomed to doing this around another, Xander recalled. Maybe if I start first...

Just the idea of being near Korel while he touched himself was enough to make Xander's heart pound. Still, maybe Korel, despite his words, wasn't so pleased with the notion. Subjecting him to it would be unfair... "Korel, are you sure—"

"Yes, Xander," Korel breathed, his voice soft but vibrant with intensity. His trembling hand came up to rest on the base of his maleness. "Please. I... am very attracted to you. It seems too soon to be... closer, yet, but I would very much like to see your pleasure... perhaps being involved with it."

"You will be," Xander promised, giving a squeeze to his throbbing shaft. Trying to watch every inch of Korel's body at once, he shifted about, leaning against a smooth rock that propped him up in a nice position to watch. And watch he did, rapt, as Korel's fingers slowly slid around his member and started to slide up to the tip. Xander's hand was already at work, gliding up and down his entire hard length.

They couldn't take their eyes off of each other. The reality of another man – another very attractive man – giving himself pleasure right before his eyes was compelling to each; the knowledge that his own body and actions were responsible for heightening that pleasure, even more so. There was nothing subtle about their actions. They squeezed and pumped their aching, needy members, harder and faster with each passing moment, Xander in silence but writhing under the water, thrusting his hips as though into a lover, Korel's body tense and still save for his so-active hand, pants and whimpers and moans escaping his parted jaws.

It was so different, their bodies reacting in almost opposite ways to the stimulation, the other's lust an almost palpable thing, that Xander felt his pleasure running deeper and deeper, already more intense than anything he had known before. His climax came suddenly, unexpectedly, crashing like a wave over his slender frame. His throat locked shut and his body arched, his maleness coming clear of the water just in time to send its first white jet onto his belly. But he ignored it, staring past it, at the look of pure ecstasy on Korel's groaning face, the shivers running through his lithe body, the ropes of thick semen curling and twisting in the water as he squeezed them out of his jerking shaft.

It only lasted for a precious few moments, before they slumped in the water; Xander hardly moving, sinking down until only his snout was exposed, Korel panting and trembling, chest heaving. A few more moments went by, and things started to return to normal. But they would never be the same; their lives had taken a turn for the better, and they would both treasure this moment as a sign of that fact.

"Thank you," Korel sighed, contentment in every line of his body. "Thank you so much, Xander, for sharing this with me. I needed this so much... and it was incredible."

For a few moments Xander could only nod, and continue his interrupted body-rub. "It was," he said at last. "All the men in Caertsan would be sick if they knew I was looking at them like that... to find someone who likes it, and looks at me the same way... Thank you so much."

Korel smiled a foolish little smile, and leaned forward. "I don't think you brought a tent with you, but mine is large enough for two people..."

Xander smiled back. "I'd like that," he understated, rubbing water into his tail. "So long as you don't mind me being wet... it'll take a long time for my undercoat to dry out."

Korel's smile widened into a toothy grin. "I love how you people look when you're wet. And smell. As soon as you're done, let's get some overdue rest; our day has been quite long."

Xander stood up right away.

There was plenty of room in the little tent for both of them to unroll their bedrolls and crawl inside. They weren't in actual, physical contact with each other – but as they drifted off to sleep, the last thing each saw was the other's smiling face.

The sun was high when Mateo shook Xander awake. His brain didn't want to work at first. He'd slept soundly, true, but he hadn't slept very long, and the past several days had been hectic. Still, he managed to confirm that he was, indeed, awake and would be out shortly. The human was content with that, so there must not have been any special urgency.

Korel wasn't in the tent, and his bedding was rolled up. No doubt he'd left to stand watch. His absence made it a bit easier for Xander to pull on a fresh pair of trousers and strap his knife in place. After all, with him outside, there was no reason for Xander to linger here...

Still, that thought gave him pause.

Am I that smitten?

Young and tired though Xander was, he was usually a clear thinker, and it was the work of a moment to figure out one reason why he might be rushing things... Korel was, after all, the first person he'd met, aside from that encounter with Marak, who tolerated Xander's preference for males, even welcomed it. So naturally Xander clutched at him like the last rock before a waterfall.

But he seems fairly comfortable with it. Surprised that the Elders disapproved. Kirian knew about it – he had to, I saw him at the Council – but he seems to accept it, too.

There must be more people like that out there.

Of course, none of that meant he shouldn't get involved with Korel. Not only was the tamaxos beautiful to look upon, his personality – his very presence – was refreshing, like a cool stream.

There will be time to think about this later. He pulled a leather thong over his head, one of the shade's massive fangs coming to rest on his chest.

Xander wasn't the only one who was tired, he saw when he clambered out of the tent. Kirian drooped as he tended the boat, Mateo squinted as though the sun was too bright even through its veil of cloud, and Korel's movements were slower, more cautious, than was usual as he tended the cookpot.

"We won't go far today," Mateo informed them when they were all sitting around the fire. "Travelling at night is one thing, but continuing through the tricky shadows of twilight is another matter entirely. The setting sun should find us on the edge of Harrkani territory, the confluence of the Cliath and Koldun Rivers. We will camp there until morning, and continue better refreshed. Gods willing, the weather will not impede us; the harrkani should not, so long as we speed on our way."

"That depends on the harrkani," Korel grumbled. "Some of their tribes can be very belligerent, and as a whole they tend to be taciturn at best, and quite territorial."

"Do you know anything of the tribes in this area?"

A breath. "No," Korel sighed. "I do not."

The human's gaze continued to sweep around. Xander had only been told that the safest approach was to avoid the harrkani; he shook his head.

Kirian shrugged. "They've never bothered me."

"Perhaps not," Mateo sighed, "but by and large, the harrkani don't like the tamaxos."

"Often they attack on sight," Korel muttered.

"Only on their territory," Kirian protested. "The river's ours."

"But you don't enforce that, so they might not see it that way."

"Enough." Mateo straightened. "We are not a tamaxos scouting party, and we are keeping to the river, which is traditionally shared with the ae-tsan by all who travel upon it. I do not think the harrkani would care to incur the wrath of the Brotherhood on those grounds."

There was a tense, silent stillness.

Kirian was the one to break it, rising and going over to the boat, checking the sides. Mateo produced a rapier from somewhere and started honing it. Xander sat beside Korel as the tamaxos checked on the cookpot. He said nothing – Korel was plainly deep in thought, and that was the sort of thing Xander tried not to interrupt. If the enmity between tamaxos and harrkani was that strong, he certainly had a lot to think about.

Nor was Xander without concerns of his own. Despite Mateo's words about visibility for the Brotherhood, he couldn't shake the feeling that something unusual was going on. Everything was just happening too quickly.

Brunch was a silent affair, and immediately after that, they broke camp and packed up.

The river was unusually swift, making Xander's small clipper very valuable, dodging back and forth across the river and searching for hazards. They made very good time, though, so midway through the afternoon, they hove to and dug out supplies for a quick snack break.

Suddenly Mateo lifted his head, eyes flashing. "Something is wrong," he hissed. "This place is too still..."

Korel sniffed, whiskers twitching. His head whirled over at the sound of a soft clink. "To the water," he growled. "Nothing can move very fast in these woods — "

There was a deep, resonant howl from very close by. The sound sank into Xander's spine, freezing him in place. His bone knife had fallen into his hand and the carvings were digging into his palm, but he could not lift it.

Mateo had his rapier at the ready in his left hand, a shorter, thicker blade in his right. Korel held a slim dagger poised to throw. Kirian held a long, thick-shafted harpoon. But there was movement all around them.

"Hells," Korel spat, pressing back against Xander and Mateo as a number of dark figures leapt out of the brush between them and the boats. Cut off, just like that... and others, huge canine figures clad in sturdy plate and chain, were emerging all around them. The echoes of that first howl had faded, but their collective growling was like thunder.

One of them stepped forward from the rest, clad below the neck in full plate and wielding a massive greatsword, the ponderous blade more than six feet long.

In one hand. There was another just like it slung across his back.

His dark face might have been cast in stone, with emeralds for eyes, for all the expression he showed as he gestured at their weapons.

"Drop them," Mateo ordered.

"Are you insane?" Korel hissed back. "If we don't have weapons to put up a fight – "

"If they wanted to kill us we'd be dead already. Do it!"

After a few moments, Korel reluctantly let his weapon fall. The others followed suit.

The one in full-plate advanced, flanked by a pair of equally massive brown-furred harrkani in chain-mail. His chill gaze swept over the group, not one muscle on his face shifting.

Another stepped forward, this one wearing only leathers, and spoke a brief utterance – it sounded like a query – in their rumbling tongue. The armoured juggernaut sounded almost distant as he replied. He brought the chamfered tip of his sword up to Xander's chin – the flat side, but the ae-tsar could all too clearly feel the sharpness of the tip. He lifted his chin until the pressure eased, trying to still his trembling body.

Meanwhile, one of the pair in chain bent down to retrieve Xander's fallen knife. He was about to discard it when the one in plate uttered a sharp bark. Chastised, the one with the knife balanced it in his palms and touched it to his forehead, and carefully put it through his belt.

The sword was brought away, and the armoured figure turned to the one in leather. There was a quick interchange between them. There seemed to be consternation on the part of the one in leather, while the one in armour was resolute. He somehow sounded like a staid rule-follower.

The harrkani party collected the dropped weapons and formed up around the smaller group. At a few words from the armoured commander, a trio split off to stay by the boats. The others ushered the human, tamaxos, and ae-tsan south through the trees.

Their captors set a brisk pace, but not a cruel one. They kept weapons drawn but did not otherwise threaten. If one of them stumbled – usually one of the two ae-tsan – the harrkani waited, evidently patiently, for him to get back up and resume the pace.

"Do you know their markings?" Mateo asked of Korel – quietly, but not secretively.

"All too well," the tamaxos sighed. "The Akhelon tribe. Well-equipped, well-trained, and very determined. A very bad group to have as enemies."

The harrkani did not protest that small interchange, but none of them had any more to say.

The trees became quickly thinner, yielding to rolling, grassy plains in short order. It was getting closer to the evening when they passed through a stout palisade atop one of the larger hills and started wending their way through the wood-and-stone structures.

A voice called out. The harrkahn commander raised his free paw in an unmistakable gesture to halt. There was another quick exchange, then a very large, very strong harrkahn with elaborate beaded ornaments pushed through the ring. Looking down on the small group, he turned to Mateo. "Who are you?" he growled in accented but comprehensible Common. "What are you doing on our territory?"

"I am Mateo Corman," he replied proudly, "Healer and sworn to the service of Kargon. I and my companions were travelling the river on an errand of great import, and had no intention of trespassing on your land."

"Is this so?" He turned to Xander. "What is this errand of which he speaks?"

Xander swallowed.

"Well? Speak, ae-tsar!"

"I—"

"Hold, Kurrik," a new voice called – new, but strangely familiar. Eyes turned to the muscular black figure, wearing only a loincloth and a silver pendant. A pendant much like the one that rested on Xander's own chest, which he bent to lift up and examine. His eyes met Xander's, sparkling with recognition.

"I think I know this one," Marak said.