Chapter 15
Shan’s plan, such as it was, immediately hit a snag.
“Don’t be silly.” Leonie frowned at him, hands on her hips. “Of course I’m coming with you.”
“I do not want you sacrificing your rest.” This was true—though not, of course, the main reason he needed her to stay behind. “Even with Alder’s information, it may take some time to search the area. I can manage on my own.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Don’t be silly, Shan. We’ll cover the ground faster together. Besides, I know these woods better than you do.”
This was also true. In any other circumstances, he would have welcomed her assistance.
Unfortunately, he would need to hunt in his shift form. And he could hardly wear sunglasses as a tiger.
He groped for another excuse. “I planned to fly. I will get there before you.”
“So? You go on ahead, and I’ll meet you there.”
“There really is no need for you to—”
“Yes, there is,” she interrupted, tone firm. “This is my home, and I want to know what’s going on.” She flashed a grin, teeth gleaming in the moonlight. “Besides, I want to come. It’s been ages since I had a good hunt. You can’t expect me to sit in my cabin while you have all the fun.”
All his arguments melted. Despite the danger, he couldn’t deny her even the smallest pleasure. He’d just have to be careful.
“Very well,” he said. “We’ll cover the ground most efficiently if I stay in the air, while you search on foot. If you find anything, roar. I will come.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Leonie looked up at the cloudless sky. Her voice softened, turning oddly wistful. “It’s a beautiful night for flying. I wish I could join you.”
Flavor flooded his mouth. Not the clear sweetness he was accustomed to tasting when she spoke, but something richer.
He swallowed, pushing back the sudden hunger. “You would like to fly?”
“Always,” she said softly, eyes on the stars. “When I was a kid, I used to watch my dad and brothers playing in the sky. I imagined I’d be up there too, one day. I couldn’t wait to have my own wings. Back then, there was nothing I wanted more.”
“I could carry you,” he blurted out. Every ounce of common sense screamed that this was a terrible idea, but he couldn’t help himself. “If you wish to fly now.”
“That’s sweet of you.” She shook her head, lowering her gaze. “But it wouldn’t be the same. Come on. Let’s go ghost hunting.”
Lions were not natural long-distance runners. Still, it was nice to get away from the camp, even if only on four paws.
Leonie bounded soundlessly through the forest, enjoying the soft slide of undergrowth across her fur.
Her ears swiveled, alert to every sound.
To her lioness’s nose, the air crackled with information, a thousand smells pointing like signposts: deer nearby, old squirrel nest, distant bear.
There were no traces of anything out of the ordinary.
And what did you expect? she chided herself as she leaped gracefully across a dry streambed. A fresh trail of ectoplasm, perhaps?
Still, it was a nice night. It didn’t do any harm to take a look around. Especially not in good company.
She paused in a clearing to catch her breath. Glancing up, she glimpsed a shadow sweep across the stars. She’d assumed Shan would go on ahead, but instead he was keeping pace with her, circling high above her head.
The sight of that powerful, broad-winged shape filled her with deep, primal satisfaction. Lionesses hunted in groups, after all. It was silly, but she had to admit it felt good to be stalking prey with a fellow feline.
He is a strong hunter, her lioness agreed. It paused, then added, somewhat condescendingly, For a male.
Leonie laughed under her breath. In animal form, it came out as a kind of low rumble.
Even to her own ears, the sound was barely audible, yet an orange shape abruptly streaked out of the sky.
She had to leap back as Shan landed practically on her paws.
He scanned the surroundings, snarling, his huge wings spread protectively in front of her.
She shifted to human form, pushing his lashing tail away from her face. “Shan! What is it?”
The tiger shimmered, shrinking into the smaller—but no less imposing—shape of Shan himself. He was still half-crouched, as though he expected assassins to erupt out of the woods at any moment. “You called me.”
“What? No, I didn’t.”
He stayed poised on the balls of his feet, facing away from her. “You roared.”
“I laughed, you ridiculous man. To myself. Believe me, if I’d roared, you would have known it.”
Shan straightened at last, rather sheepishly. “Oh.”
“You are far too jumpy.” He still hadn’t turned round. She peered round him, trying to figure out what had captured his attention. “Shan? Have you seen something?”
“No.” He cleared his throat, staring fixedly in the opposite direction. “And it would be best to keep it that way. Perhaps you could shift back to lion form?”
“What?” she said blankly, and then realized his mistake. “Oh! It’s okay, Shan. I’m not naked.”
He cast a brief, wary glance over his shoulder. Finding that she was indeed dressed, he turned around, brow furrowing. “I have never heard of anyone who wasn’t a mythic shifter being able to transform with their clothes.”
She shrugged. “Well, most of my family are griffins. I guess I just picked up the knack. My sister Lola can do it too, and she’s not a mythic shifter.”
It was true, yet Shan ran his tongue over his upper lip, the crease between his eyebrows deepening. “You said you had no special talents.”
“It’s hardly a talent. I bet most shifters could do it if they never got the idea that they couldn’t.” This was getting too close to things she preferred not to talk about with anyone outside her own family. “Have you seen any sign of Hetta’s tree?”
Shan looked like he still had questions, but he let her change the subject. “Not for certain. But this is the center of the area Alder-in-Winter seemed to want us to avoid. And I noticed a slight break in the tree canopy a little way ahead.”
“That could be it.” A dead tree often left a gap in the forest that took some time to fill. “Let’s check it out together.”
“In that case, I will stay in human form,” Shan said. He added, as though anticipating an objection, “So we can talk.”
As far as she was concerned, it made more sense to take advantage of their animals’ heightened senses, despite the communication barrier. But she’d noticed Shan avoided shifting if at all possible. Maybe taking his qiongqi’s shape made it more difficult for him to resist its hunger.
“Okay.” She gestured for him to go first. “You know where we’re going. Lead the way.”
It rapidly became apparent that this was not going to work.
She sighed, stopping. “Shan, you really need to take off your sunglasses.”
He pulled his shirt free from the clutches of a bramble bush. “I can manage.”
“No, you can’t. I don’t see why you’re still wearing them. It’s not like there’s anyone else out here.”
“I can manage,” he said again, more shortly. As if to prove it, he strode away—and promptly ran into a tree.
“Shan, I’m not going to scream and run away at the sight of your eyes. Just take them off.”
She was about to do it for him when something caught her attention. Her night sight wasn’t nearly as good as it was in lion form, but she could still make out the faintest glow between the trees ahead, beams of moonlight shafting through the darkness.
“Wait, I think I see where we’re going.” She took his hand, lacing her fingers through his much larger ones. “Come on, I’ll guide you. Can’t have you concussing your way through the forest.”
Shan huffed, but let her lead him toward the light. It proved to be a small clearing, though one that would be difficult to spot from the air. Trees overhung the space on every side, only letting a thin shaft of moonlight through their leaves.
And there, unmistakably, was Hetta’s tree.
The girl’s description had been absolutely accurate. Even dead and broken off, it was still a monster of a tree. It squatted like a toad in the center of the clearing, two twisted branches clawing at the sky.
And it was creepy. It looked like it had been drawn by a kid for Halloween. All it needed was a couple of yellow eyes and a grinning mouth.
Shan’s fingers tightened on hers. By unspoken agreement, they both paused at the edge of the clearing, waiting for... well, Leonie wasn’t quite sure what.
If the tree was indeed haunted, there was no sign of it at the moment.
Floating balls of spectral light were noticeable by their absence.
The warm breeze carried the mundane scents of earth and leaves rather than demonic sulfur.
Night insects chirred in the leaves, undisturbed by evil forces from beyond the grave.
“It all looks normal,” Leonie whispered to Shan. “I don’t see anything.”
“Hmm.” He moved in front of her. “Wait here. I’ll signal if it’s safe to approach.”
She rolled her eyes behind his back. “Shan, it’s a tree.”
He was already stalking toward it, low and cautious. He didn’t shift, but there was something distinctly tiger-ish about his slow, soundless steps. Leonie waited impatiently as he circled the tree twice; once at a distance, then closer. At last, he raised a gloved hand, beckoning to her.
“Finally.” She joined him, picking her way over dead, gnarled roots. “Find anything?”
“Yes.” He gestured at a split at the base of the trunk. “Whatever Hetta saw, it didn’t have to be incorporeal to come out of here. The whole tree is hollow. Do you have a light?”
Leonie pulled out her phone, flicking on the flashlight. With a nod of thanks, Shan took the device. With some difficulty, he managed to get his head and one arm into the tree, playing the beam around the interior.
After only a few short moments, he pulled out again. He shook his head, brushing chips of decayed wood from his hair. “I can’t see anything. Not from this angle.”