Unicorn Valley 3: Healer’s Heart
Lena Austin

  

 All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2004 by Lena Austin

No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Changeling Press LLC.

  

 ISBN 1-59596-044-9
Formats Available:
HTML, Adobe PDF,
MobiPocket, Microsoft Reader

Publisher:
Changeling Press LLC
PO Box 1561
Shepherdstown, WV 25443-1561
www.ChangelingPress.com

Editor: Katriena Knights
Cover Artist: Angela Knight

  



 This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  

  

  

 Chapter One

  

 The arrow sang out of the bushes with no warning, giving Le-An no time to writhe out of its way. He went down, the arrow cutting into the thick muscle of his thigh. Dammit, he was only perhaps half an hour’s walk from home. It was the last truly coherent thought he had before his head connected with the small boulder he’d been skirting.

 Three men stepped out of the bushes, the archer still unstringing his bow. Their knives held a silent threat. Dazed, and with his head throbbing in time with his thigh, Le-An tried desperately to clear his head. The greasiest of the three bent over and removed Le-An’s belt pouch, containing a few worthless coins. The youngest of the bandits fingered his knife. “Should we slit this foreigner’s throat?”

 The greasy one waved a hand. “Nah! He’ll die out here anyway. Save the edge of your knife.”

 The French language barely registered in Le-An’s mind. They could have the silly little disks of metal. They were unimportant.

 The archer reached for his arrow embedded in Le-An’s thigh and twisted. Le-An’s cry of pain was enough to have the first two turning back. “Leave it, Egon,” ordered the younger. The sound of snapping wood was barely audible compared to the agony. The roaring in his ears drowned out all sound.

 “Gaah! Damn. I broke the arrow anyway.” Egon threw down the broken shaft and stomped off after his friends.

 Le-An lay where he’d fallen. The boulder made an uncomfortable pillow, but he would live yet another day. Dammit . He didn’t want to live anymore. He was tired. Couldn’t he just lie there and bleed away his life force?

 The tingle of magic on his skin told him he would live, like it or not. He was too close to home. “ Dammit, V! Can’t you just let me go?”

 You were an innocent victim, Le-An. Now we are tied, you and I. Is life so unbearable?

 Le-An sighed and began the long crawl toward home. “I’m lonely, V. So very lonely.”

 Bored, too. I’m sorry about that. I can’t be more to you than a friend.

 Le-An got to the top of the next small hillock before he had to stop and rest again. His temple was bleeding freely, and he was dizzy. He threw up the remains of a perfectly good breakfast.

 Come on, Le-An. Just a bit further.

 “You always say that.”

 You always insist on leaving my protections. Did you at least get laid?

 Busybody, he thought. “No. The one human female who sells sex for coin in that village had her moon time. But she was nice to me anyway, and fed me a meal.”

 Which you just lost on the hill. Come home, Le-An. I’m calling the healers.

 Le-An forced his body back to crawling. The magic grew stronger every few feet. His leg stung abominably when he inadvertently used it.

 He passed out from the pain three times before he finally crawled up the top of the last rocky hill. The walk that normally took him a short time had taken him nearly all morning. Even the sweet scent of the grass didn’t ease the agony of his head.

 You’re a mess.

 “Thanks. Should I go find a stream and drown myself to get cleaned up before the healers find me?”

 Sarcasm will get you nowhere. Roll down the hill, Le-An. My protections start there.

 Aw, harpy shit. Le-An could barely crawl, and V wanted him to roll? “I know. But if I roll, I’ll hurt this leg more.”

 I’m hoping so. If we’re lucky, you’ll pass out again.

 “That sounds like a lovely plan. Cause me enough pain to go unconscious?” Despite his words, Le-An took a deep breath and began to roll, screaming in pain.

 Inside his head, the cool, unchanging voice continued. I’ll see to it that you remain unconscious while Brolly gets that arrowhead out .

 “Brolly? No!” Le-An hit the bottom, and kept rolling, passing out when he made it through the shields into the Valley of the Unicorns.

 * * *

 “Brolly!” The slam of the trapdoor opening followed the sweet voice of one of his sisters.

 He ignored her clattering descent down the ladder to the stillroom. He was in the middle of a task he couldn’t cut short. The sharp smell of vinegar filled his sensitive nose and made him want to sneeze desperately, but he didn’t dare waste one drop of the precious bruise potion as he poured it into the special bottle. It took an entire moon for the vinegar to steep the wormwood into the nasty brown liquid that eased a sore bruise so effectively.

 Juel stuck her head in the door, her lavender eyes wide. “It’s Le-An again. Arrow in the left thigh. They’re cleaning him up. Gilly is keeping him asleep.”

 Brolly blew out an exasperated breath. “Still in male human form, is he?” He corked the bottle of potion.

 Juel flipped her purple hair over her shoulder, her horn button flashing in the mage lights. She began to dump the used wormwood out of the cheesecloth as if she’d been the one using the stillroom all along.

 “Yes.” She frowned. “Brolly, is Le-An suicidal? Lately he spends all his time in male form, and goes outside the Valley often. I’m getting tired of patching him up.”

 Brolly grinned. “So maybe we should just assign him a room and a healer permanently?” He washed his hands carefully at the fountain. Wormwood was poisonous if swallowed or applied to open wounds.

 “Might be worthwhile. You Werewolves and Vampires have to be tired of sewing up his wounds, and the constant surgeries to remove foreign objects. Now go! They’ve probably got him ready by now. Go make a bloody mess.” She shuddered delicately.

 Brolly laughed and went upstairs to the room kept especially for blood and bone work. Le-An’s naked form, shining clean, waited on the polished stone slab. One of his Vampire helpers brought him a large bowl of redwort to wash his hands again. Another helper stained Le-An’s leg with the infusion. The sharp, acrid odor of redwort filled the air.

 Brolly himself covered Le-An’s naked body with linen, and then nodded to Gilly to set the warming spell on the stone a bit higher. “His skin is still chilly,” he explained when Gilly raised an eyebrow.

 As Brolly inspected his knives and dipped one in redwort, he flushed as red as the solution. For any other being in the Valley, Brolly was like a statue when it came to noticing the naked state of his patients. However, Le-An’s nude body, even unconscious, heated Brolly’s desire like no other could. Covering that well-muscled form was pure self-defense.

 Gilly placed a delicate finger on Le-An’s forehead. “He’s still out cold, but I put on a strong sleep spell just in case.”

 “Thank you, sis. What I would do without my Unicorn aide, I don’t know.” Brolly put on an overcoat to protect his clothes from blood. Gilly tied a cloth around his forehead, to keep sweat from dripping into his eyes or into the patient.

 “You’d make a poppy potion. Now get to work. He’s still bleeding there.” She gave him a small shove and went back to sit near Le-An’s head to monitor the sleep spell.

 Quickly and efficiently, Brolly and his helpers removed the arrow with as little damage to the muscle as possible. Brolly dropped the arrowhead into a bowl. For some morbid reason, Le-An liked to keep the things. It would be washed and saved for the collection.

 While the Vampires stitched the wound closed, Brolly examined Le-An’s head wound. It was already closing, now that it was cleaned. The redwort stain made it look worse than it was. He bandaged the wound and the helpers took Le-An to a room to sleep off the spell Gilly had laid.

 Brolly kept his head high as he walked out of the room. It wasn’t his turn to clean, for which he was grateful. Gilly had disappeared as soon as she was no longer needed. He didn’t blame her. All the Unicorns and Elves who worked at the healing facility hated the sight of blood, but their abilities with magic came in handy enough that they tried to overcome their dislike.

 Brolly trudged down the hall, turning down the darkened corridor until he came to his private workroom. There, he removed the bloody overcoat and threw it in the basket kept just outside the door. He sat at his desk and pulled his journal from the bookshelf. When his notations were done on Le-An’s latest surgery, he sprinkled a little sand on the ink and blew it dry.

 Now he could rest. He laid his head down on his desk. He really should go up to the kitchen and beg for a bite or two to eat, but he was so tired. He just needed a minute.

 “Just as I thought! Here!”

 The brisk feminine voice jolted Brolly upright. His sister Sella plopped a tray down on his desk. The savory scent of boar made Brolly’s mouth water.

 Sella smiled as Brolly reached for the bread and meat. She’d always mothered him in place of having colts of her own. “Don’t think I’m being altruistic. I’m feeding you here because there’s a delegation from your Pack upstairs. They are fidgeting but silent. And…”

 “The day Werewolves are silent, they want something. I wonder what?”

 Shrugging, Sella manifested two mugs of tea and shoved one toward Brolly. “Got me, Furface. It must be something big for them to come seek out a lone wolf like you. You aren’t even the only Werewolf healer, just the most skilled.”

 He wanted to laugh. When was the last time he got such a backwards compliment? Brolly sipped his honey-laced tea to hide his grin. “Well, thank you, Sella. That puts a pin in my ego.”

 “Cutting your phenomenal ego down to size is just one of the many services I provide.” Sella smirked. “I haven’t seen Shadow or Lionel in ages, not since the last time Lionel brought in the cubs when they had colds.”

 The sandwich gone, Brolly wiped his mouth with the cloth provided. He stood and grimaced. “There’s only one way to find out what the Pack wants. Was old Aahz with them?”

 “No, and that’s the strangest part of all. Why isn’t the Pack Leader handling this?”

 Sella sailed out of the room with the tray before he could answer, even if he had an answer.

 Brolly shrugged and put on his best healer smile, as serene as he could make it, considering he was tired and wanted nothing more than the cool peace of the stillroom. He walked with calm deliberation to the main cavern, where five wolves lounged in the out of the way corner reserved for visitors.

 As soon as they saw him, all stood and loped outside, checking over their shoulders to make sure he followed.

 “Oh, like that, is it?” Brolly grumbled a moment, and then changed to lupine form.

 His Pack Mates waited in the meadow, tails wagging. Brolly was shocked when he got a good look and realized one of his visitors was the Alpha Bitch, Grisa. From her swollen belly, she was pregnant again. He made the proper obeisance, sniffing noses with her before romping briefly with the others to establish the pecking order.

 Grisa waited patiently, tongue lolling out. When all was settled, Brolly sat and waited. The others took positions in a friendly fashion all around him. Grisa wasted no time in coming to the point. “Brolly, we have a population problem in Pack Lands.”

 That was stating the obvious. Brolly looked pointedly at her round belly, and commented, “The Pack Leaders must stop covering all the bitches. The danger is not so great, right now, but any further births will soon cause hunger and territory fights.” Brolly got up to pace back and forth before Grisa. He needed to move. This wasn’t gossip. What did they want?

 Grisa nodded, but her ears pinned back slightly. “I know, Brolly. It seems such a simple solution, doesn’t it? Most of the Pack Leaders have agreed to this. We bitches have agreed to seek matings outside the Pack when heat is upon us.” She seemed almost resigned. Well, no one had to like the solution.

 Brolly tilted his head to one side. “Most Pack Leaders? All must agree, if the situation is to stop. And why are you coming to me with this? I don’t cover any bitches, nor am I mated.”

 One of the younger members lifted his head. “That’s precisely why we came to you, Brolly. You don’t cover bitches.”

 Grisa shot him a look, and he subsided. Then she sighed. “As you well know, Brolly, it is no crime to prefer your own gender. In times like these, it is helpful that some don’t mate at all.” She looked down at the grass for a moment. “We need you, Brolly. Aahz is the holdout that will not agree. He fears, I think, living alone.”

 Brolly was so stunned, he couldn’t move. He heard all that Grisa did not say, and didn’t have to. If Aahz would not step down, he would have to be killed or driven out. Brolly closed his eyes in horror. They were asking him to do this, and become Pack Leader. Because they thought he didn’t care for covering a bitch.

 It wasn’t true. Rather than get into his personal life, though, he had other objections. Gods, he had a thousand.

 He cleared his throat, and opened his eyes to see the sadness in Grisa’s eyes.

 “I’ve howled to the Moon Goddess for weeks now, Brolly. I don’t make this request lightly.” Grisa quelled a whine from one of those in the group with a soft growl. “I’ll go into exile with Aahz, if you can manage it. You and your brother Kenalf are the only two who prefer males, and Kenalf hasn’t been seen in many moons.”

 Kenalf would be better suited to the task. Large, strong, and a natural leader, Kenalf had left the Pack rather than fight Aahz. “I assume you’ve left word you are looking for him?” Brolly cleared his throat, and dared bring up his family shame. “Our father…”

 Grisa’s eyes turned stern. “Was a good Pack Leader, before he went mad. Don’t try to use him as an excuse to get out of doing your duty, Brolly.” She looked at the others who watched attentively. “We represent a cross-section of all the Pack, from young to old, so you would know all are in agreement. We want you, or Kenalf.”

 Brolly turned as the others nodded their heads. His jaw dropped, and he felt his tail droop. “I… I need time to think. You’re asking me to give up everything.” He’d never be able to heal again if he managed the Pack. He’d never be able to go find a happy roll with another male. There’d be only duty.

 Grisa heaved herself to her feet. “I understand, Brolly. I know what we ask of you is nothing less than destroying your life as you know it now. We have no choice. None of us. If you can figure out a way to prevent internecine warfare between the Packs over choice prey and hunting, I’d be glad to hear of it.”

 She took herself off to the woods, with the rest of the wolves following, and left Brolly standing in the meadow, torn between love and duty.

 Brolly turned and walked slowly back to his beloved healing hospice. How could he destroy his whole life? Who would understand what he was? One face floated to the surface of his churning mind, and it was the one person he feared to be alone with.

  

  

  

 Chapter Two

  

 Brolly was hit with several conflicting emotions as he hesitated in the doorway. Le-An sat in his bed, propped up by several cushions, reading the old herbal journal.

 Le-An was a handsome male, even with a bandage on his head that made him look like some sort of barbaric human. Brolly felt the tightening in his groin and knew it was futile to tell it to behave. Rather than show his unreasoning lust for his mother’s friend, Brolly moved away from the door and leaned against the wall.

 Le-An was an enigma wrapped in a mystery that no one knew the full answers to. Le-An remained fully in the prime of life, despite a history in the Valley that went back hundreds of years. By all rights, Le-An should be a grizzled and bent old fellow, not a strong, muscular, and -- may the Gods forgive me! -- extremely desirable male.

 Le-An was in truth neither male nor female, but both. That made things worse for Brolly. Brolly desired both sexes, with a small preference for males. Le-An blithely changed forms, going from male to female on a whim, or as needed for any task. Brolly had watched Le-An perform that shift with envy, curiosity, and a certain lust, a thousand times as Le-An-the-female played with Brolly’s many foster brothers and sisters, then turned to male for swordplay lessons the next hour. The desire Brolly felt was equal for both Le-An’s human forms.

 It’s obscene to lust after one who helped raise you.

 No matter how many times he admonished himself, nothing changed. Now, Le-An might be the only being in the Valley that could help him. Brolly sagged against the wall and prayed to the Goddess for strength.

 “Brolly, I can smell you out there. Come on in and stop lurking around the corner. You act as if you’ve done something wrong.”

 Gods, did Le-An have to have a voice as smooth as fine Elven wine? Brolly sighed and straightened his tunic. You are the senior healer here, you idiot. Act like a Werewolf jack, not like a man . He threw his shoulders back, and strode in the door like he was Pack Leader instead of a lone Werewolf.

 “Sorry, old friend. I was using the wall outside your room to rest my weary body for a few moments. The cool stone felt good.” Brolly lifted Le-An’s wrist and felt the steady pulse.

 Le-An snorted and snatched his hand back. “Harpy droppings. Don’t try to pull that act on me. Now close the door, sit on the chair, and tell me what’s eating you.”

 Shoulders sagging, Brolly gave up and shut the door. A comfortable armchair sat next to the bed, intended for visitors or watchful healers. Brolly plopped into it and folded his hands so Le-An wouldn’t see them shake.

 Le-An put the book aside, not even bothering to mark his page. “Thank all the Gods you came, Brolly. No matter what the reason, I’m glad you’re here to relieve my boredom.” He gestured to his bandaged and splinted leg. “This is taking more than the usual time to heal. Blasted humans.”

 “What did you do this time, Le-An? I swear I’m going to assign a room and a healer to you on a permanent basis, with as many times as you foolishly go outside the Valley.” Brolly shook his head as if he were the elder, not Le-An.

 “It’s not foolish.” Le-An plucked at the blanket covering the lower part of his body. “I get lonely, Brolly. The human village outside the Valley has a place where one can go and purchase drink and a female. It relieves the body, at least.”

 “Purchase? What’s that?” Fascinated in spite of himself, Brolly leaned forward.

 “Trade a small round disk of a metal humans value for something you wish. I keep a small stash of the things. When I am close to running out, I ask one of the mages to make me a few more. Here, I have one.” Le-An took a disk of a dull silvery metal out of his pouch on the bedside table. “It’s called a coin.”

 Brolly examined the coin. The metal was stamped with a human’s face, and lettering he couldn’t read. “They value these? I wonder why.”

 “I haven’t figured that out. But they do and that’s that. If it gets me what I want, I’ll keep a few around. This time, I must have carried too many.” Le-An shrugged. “Some humans followed me when I left and wanted to fight me for them. They wounded me with an arrow in the leg, and then took my other pouch full of the things. Thunder, they could have asked! I’ve plenty.”

 “I’ve got the arrowhead if you want it, by the way.”

 “Thanks. Now what’s got you lurking outside my door?”

 Brolly licked his lips. “I’m not sure how to begin.” He took a deep breath and plunged. “You know Aahz, my Pack Leader, is growing old, correct? I’m one of the few lone jacks that isn’t mated to one bitch. I’ve been approached by several and asked to fight Aahz and take the Pack.”

 “I don’t see the problem. You have a life here, as senior healer. You can’t do both, Pack Leader and healer. I assume you refused the honor, knowing you love healing. So, where’s the issue?” Le-An’s brown eyes were full of curiosity.

 Discomfited, Brolly stared at the walls. “You are the most dual-natured being I know. I’ve come for advice.” He couldn’t go on. He’d never told a soul what he now needed to reveal.

 Le-An leaned back with a soft, “Ah!” His gaze lingered on Brolly’s reddening face. “I think I see. You can tell me when I’m wrong with a shake of your head, perhaps. I must assume you are dual-natured as well, preferring perhaps males to females. Let me think on this a moment.”

 Brolly nodded and willed his face to stop flaming. There was no shame in preferring one’s own gender. Rare, and that was perhaps a blessing, because it was not good for the species as a whole. However, a small portion of the population that did not wish to procreate was no detriment, especially in prolific races, like Werewolves.

 “The Pack Lands are full, aren’t they?” Le-An’s question followed his own thoughts. If Brolly wasn’t positive Le-An could not read minds, he might have suspected Le-An was peeking into his.

 “Yes.” Brolly bit off the rest of his opinion on the foolishness of over-breeding. Hunting was getting scarce enough already that fights broke out over choice prey.

 Le-An’s eyes focused back on Brolly. “Then why won’t the Pack Leaders discuss this and limit breeding? They are the ones with all the opportunities to breed. All they have to do is stop, and the population will reduce naturally over time.”

 “Aahz won’t limit breeding. He’s afraid he’ll lose control.” Werewolves mated, often for life. However, the Pack Leader covered all the unmated bitches that went into heat and saw to their needs. Only in this were they different from the other lupines of the world.

 “I see. So they want a new Pack Leader who understands the issue, who has the self-control not to cover every female in heat. If the heated females seek relief outside the Pack, then the population is reduced.” Le-An fell back against the pillows and seemed lost in thought for a few moments. “You’ve not been discreet. It’s well known you prefer males. They chose you, knowing you have no wish for a female.”

 “They’re wrong about that, Le-An. I don’t mind covering a bitch now and then. I just don’t want to settle down because… because…”

 “Because of that dual nature. You don’t want to hurt anyone.” Le-An finished the statement not with condemnation, but soft sympathy.

 Brolly nodded. “You understand. I was hoping you would.”

 “More than you know.” Le-An swallowed and sadness made his eyes bleak. “I’ve tried myself a few times, to settle down with one or the other. It never works for long.”

 “Exactly. Worse, Le-An, I’m a healer. I feel others’ pain and emotions.”

 “Including the jealousy they would prefer to hide. No matter how much they care for you, they know they are not enough and can never be. You must always seek out, upon occasion, that which they cannot manifest.” Le-An took Brolly’s hand. “I know this more than most.”

 It was impertinent, and Brolly had no right to ask. He bit his tongue, but couldn’t stop the curiosity. “How many, Le-An? How many mates have you had?”

 Le-An’s smile was sad. He sighed. “Mates, not lovers, hmm? I don’t know anymore, Brolly. I don’t even know how old I am, and never did.”

 “But…”

 “Hush.” Le-An put his fingers over Brolly’s mouth. “You don’t want to know. Really.”

 That simple act did Brolly in. He’d maintained as much distance as he could, but those fingers over his lips destroyed his self-control. He closed his eyes and felt his cock rise. His loose pants and tunic wouldn’t disguise it. All he could do was pray Le-An didn’t notice.

 Le-An’s fingers left his lips. Brolly kept his eyes closed and fought for some measure of dignity. He jerked and his eyes flew open as he felt the outline of his cock stroked.

 Le-An’s face was inches from his. Those big brown eyes held humor and interest. “Is that a present for me?”

  

 Le-An kept the smile on his face carefully playful. What if he was wrong and that lovely erection wasn’t for him? Gods, he had fought the urge for years, ever since Brolly had grown up from a mischievous ball of gray fur into this handsome Werewolf jack. Could the attraction be indeed mutual?

 Brolly opened his eyes and the naked hunger was all the answer Le-An needed. Le-An leaned forward to seal his lips to Brolly’s. That would be the final test. If Brolly didn’t jerk away, well then, they’d see how far things went.

 In fact, Brolly gave one shuddering breath, and leaned into the kiss. Le-An ventured to part Brolly’s lips and slip in his tongue. Brolly’s golden brown eyes slowly hazed, and then closed while their tongues warred for supremacy.

 Le-An continued to stroke Brolly’s hard cock. It wasn’t huge, but this jack was no field mouse, either. Le-An dared to hope for a very pleasant evening.

 Brolly broke the kiss, but kept his face inches from Le-An’s. “Stop treating me like a virginal miss.” His lopsided grin still held a large measure of lust. “I’ll deal with the guilt later.”

 Le-An yanked on the cord holding Brolly’s pants around his waist and reached to caress Brolly’s now rock hard cock. “Me too. Later.”

 Brolly closed his eyes and groaned softly. “Much later, I hope.” He stood, and his pants dropped to his ankles.

 Le-An wasted no time in wrapping his lips around the sweet tip of Brolly’s upright cock. Even the pre-cum that glistened at the slit was sweet to the taste.

 His healer’s soft hand crept up to fist in Le-An’s hair. “I intended to go lock the door, really.”

 Humming, just for the pleasure of listening to Brolly moan softly, Le-An nursed for a few moments before lifting his head to answer. “No one will visit. But go lock the door if it makes you feel better.”

 Le-An sent a wordless query to V, and felt the shift. In a single magical act, Le-An and Brolly would disappear from the minds of all who knew them. They would have privacy, for as long as they needed.

 The snick of the bolt shooting home made Le-An smile to himself. He couldn’t tell Brolly about V. It never worked to say it aloud. His secret would remain locked in his heart, for as long as Brolly allowed them to sport.

 Le-An watched as Brolly lifted the tunic over his head, revealing chewable brown nipples and a chest just muscular enough to please and entice. Unlike most jacks, Brolly was not so hirsute it was like chewing on a rug to enjoy tasting those nipples. Just a fine dusting, running to a stripe that led to his navel.

 Le-An felt his own nipples harden, as well as other parts of his anatomy. His voice roughened with lust as he commanded, “Come here.”

 Brolly chuckled softly. “Oh, no, Le-An. You’ll not have all the fun. May I point out you still have a shirt on?”

 Le-An yanked off the loose tunic he’d been provided. “If we’re to pleasure each other, may I suggest the rug, as opposed to this narrow little bed?”

 Those golden brown eyes narrowed and the healer came back. “Can you handle it? I don’t want to cause you pain.”

 Impishly, Le-An reached for a small pot on the bedside table. “I don’t think you will, if we use this.” He brandished the oil normally used for healing massages.

 Chuckling, Brolly took the pot from him and put it on the floor. Then he offered Le-An his arm and helped him move to the colorful rug, moving the bandaged leg as little as possible. “We’ll use the oil in a few minutes, Le-An. I’m anxious to taste you.” The low, seductive tone of his voice was enough to make Le-An willing to do anything.

 Facing Le-An’s feet, Brolly knelt over Le-An’s head and slid his cock into his willing and eager mouth. Then, taking his time, he bent over until his hands supported his weight and he could perform the same services on the other man’s rigid cock.

 Le-An thought he’d die of happiness. Brolly was a delight to taste, and his mouth was skilled. Waves of pleasure coursed to his overloaded brain as he tried to divide himself between the mouth fucking he was getting and the one he was giving.

 Without warning, Brolly pulled away. His athleticism amazed Le-An. He’d been doing the equivalent of pushups without pause. Brolly scraped his sharp teeth across Le-An’s cock on the way up to releasing it with a pop of suction.

 Yanking the chair cushions off, Brolly smiled gently. “I’d like to use that oil now, but I’d prefer if I propped you up on these cushions to avoid further injury to your leg.” He piled them high, and helped Le-An roll on top of them.

 Le-An settled himself on the cushions with only one minor grunt of pain. Brolly used the oil generously on his cock, and then moved behind Le-An to lubricate his ass with soft, gentle fingers.

 Le-An thought he’d orgasm then. Brolly was thorough in applying the oil, and spent time making sure there would be only pleasure. “Gods above, Brolly. Hurry up. You’re driving me mad.”

 “Patience is a virtue.” He poised the hardness of his cock at Le-An’s tight ass.

 “Virtue is not what I want right now.” He gasped as Brolly slid in past the first tight ring of muscle. “That is. Next time, it’s your turn.”

 “Yes,” Brolly hissed. He slid in more, working his way in as slowly and carefully as any man could wish. He paused often to allow Le-An to adjust.

 Le-An was shuddering and on the verge of pure ecstasy by the time Brolly was buried deep within him. “Give me all, now, Brolly. I want everything you have to give.” He clamped down once to prove his willingness.

 “I won’t last long if you keep that up.” Brolly’s breath was hot and ragged on Le-An’s back, but he moved, rhythmically.

 “Who said anything about lasting? I’m going to spew any moment and do my best to mess up these cushions.” The wonderful pressure of Brolly’s cock stroking his insides had Le-An on the edge. He gritted his teeth and fought the instincts that said, ‘There’s a predator on your back! Run!’ It made the excitement all the more delicious.

 Brolly complied and began to fuck like he would not live to see the dawn. Le-An, true to his word, began to orgasm and tightened down further as the pleasure ripped through him. Brolly’s strokes were the perfect rhythm and his cock the perfect size and shape to stimulate Le-An to near madness.

 Brolly growled low in his throat and began to thrust his seed deep within. Le-An felt every pump of his own body as well as Brolly’s.

 In the hush that followed, punctuated only by the sound of breathing, all Le-An could feel was joy. Had he finally found a lifemate who wouldn’t feel jealousy? Who would understand his duality? It seemed so.

 He hoped he could persuade Brolly to have him moved to Brolly’s room, where Le-An knew a fine bed large enough for two sat in state. It would be wonderful to cuddle with someone again.

 “Gods above and below! What have I done?” The harsh question, aching with despair, rasped out of Brolly.

 “Um. Fallen in love, I hope?” Oh, no. Was Brolly really feeling guilty already?

 Brolly pulled away, gently. He wordlessly helped Le-An back into bed, tut-tutting over the slight amount of blood staining the bandage on Le-An’s thigh. He put the cushions back on the chair, wiping the stains with a cloth. He dressed, and helped Le-An put on a clean tunic.

 Le-An submitted to Brolly’s ministrations. He could see the many conflicting emotions rolling like the Unicorn herd across Brolly’s face. Some dark, some light, they all flitted past until Le-An was safely ensconced in bed.

 Then, Brolly kissed Le-An tenderly. “Yes. I’ve fallen in love with an immortal mystery. You don’t know how much that frightens me.” Then he unbolted the door and ran from the room as if chased by dragons.

 Le-An stared bleakly out the open doorway. “I’m scared too. Scared for you. May the gods help us both.”

  

  

  

 Chapter Three

  

 Brolly made it to his room with the shreds of his dignity intact. No one seemed to notice him or care. It was odd that no one realized he was there, but now he was grateful.

 He flung himself down on his bed without bothering to undress again. He’d felt Le-An’s love change tonight, altering from a mild caring anyone might feel, to love; the kind of love that made Werewolves howl with joy and bond for life. So why didn’t he feel the joy? He felt like howling all right -- in terror.

 And guilt. “You selfish bastard. Did you even say a word of thanks? No.”

 He threw his arm over his eyes, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. “You just took, like an adolescent covering his first bitch. No compliments, no flirtation. Just a quick fuck to get your jollies, and you were out the door.”

 Get to the real issue.

 Now his conscience was talking to him in a cool, impersonal, androgynous voice. Great. It had never been a clear vocalization before. No matter, his conscience was right. “I’m in love with an immortal being whom I know nothing about.” There. That was the real issue.

 Isn’t that part of being in love? The discovery?

 “It’s not right. It’s not moral to love my parents’ dearest friend.”

 Why isn’t it moral? Whose morals?

 Brolly started to say, “Mine.” That wasn’t true. They weren’t related in any way, as far as Brolly knew. His stomach knotted. “It’s Le-An’s age. That’s it. I remember being cuddled by Le-An as a cub. I chewed on his boots, for Goddess’ sake! And all he did was laugh.”

 Memories came to him. Hundreds crowded in, vying for attention. Chewing on Le-An’s boots and being given a huge bone to replace them. Sword lessons. Wishing with all his heart he could change form and gender to suit the needs of the moment. Hunting in the forest, chasing Le-An in any number of forms to perfect his skills. Being gathered in Le-An’s soft feminine arms when Kenalf accidentally bit him too hard. She’d kissed his nose and then declared it was cold and wet, so he’d be fine. He’d been in human form then, so it had made him laugh, just as she’d intended.

 Le-An was the reason Brolly knew he was bisexual. He remembered the day he’d first noticed Le-An’s masculine form was well built. Looking at Le-An’s feminine form with nearly equal hunger. Wondering. Wanting.

 He was the first you lusted after. It didn’t matter which gender Le-An was in. You noticed and wanted. The only one who ever engaged your mind as well as your body.

 “Yes. Goddess help me, yes!” Brolly rolled over and hid his face in a pillow. “Don’t I have enough troubles in my life? Not only do I now have the horrible choice of giving up my life as a healer to be Pack Leader, but now I’ve done something so immeasurably stupid as to fall in love with a mystery.”

 Ask Le-An to explain.

 “Le-An never explains himself. Never. He evades, or, when pressed, outright refuses to discuss it.”

 His conscience was silent. The room even more so. Brolly hadn’t bothered to light a lamp, so the darkness closed in on him like a blanket.

 “All right, Brolly. Think. Stop running on your emotions. You have two separate issues to resolve.” He forced his breathing to calmness and rolled back over to assume the meditative position his mother had taught him. The stench of recent sex provided a musky and distracting backdrop to further rattle his shaken heart. Rolling the thought like a scroll, he pushed it aside in his mind. “The Pack. That seems simpler. I’ll deal with that first.”

 He sat up to pull a light blanket over himself. He often got cold when he meditated. Once his head was back on the pillow, he put his hands on his hipbones where they wouldn’t interfere with his breathing.

 “I don’t want to run Aahz off. I’m bisexual, so it would be lying to the Pack for me to take the position. Kenalf is better for that. He only prefers other males. If they find him, he’ll be a damn good Pack Leader, assuming the madness that plagued our father isn’t hereditary.”

 Time. They needed time to find Kenalf, who often wandered outside the Valley, returning when it pleased him. Brolly was just the expedient answer for the impatient, because he was available. If Brolly weren’t available, they’d learn patience.

 That was the answer to both his dilemmas. He needed time away. He needed to go where he didn’t have to be tempted by Le-An’s face and form. Faces and forms, more accurately. Would he still love Le-An then?

 Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

 Brolly told his conscience to shut up and hopped out of bed with renewed energy. He threw a towel over his shoulder and strode toward the private bathing room he’d asked for and been granted by his father. “I’m going to go search for Kenalf and get away for a while. Maybe I’ll be able to arrive at a decision while alone.” Brolly fished his pack out from under the bed. He threw it on the mattress, and made his way to the bath. “And that means going outside the Valley.”

 * * *

 Le-An lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “Oaf! What do you think you are, a satyr? Not one shred of thought for Brolly’s feelings did you have.”

 Brolly was smarter than most of Le-An’s partners. He’d remember Le-An’s age, and work it out that Le-An was immortal.

 He shut his eyes and wallowed in guilt. “I’ve robbed the cradle. Worse, I robbed my best friends’ cradle. Their son. Well, that’s not honoring the memory of departed friends.” He didn’t know if there was an afterlife, but he begged Kella and Tanne’s forgiveness for daring to love their foster son. They’d been dead less than a year, but oh, how he missed them.

 You are not exactly in the winter of your years. You are quite healthy, for one who is well over a thousand years old.

 “All those years weigh on me like some great stone, V. How do you explain that to a kid of only 300?”

 You can’t. He couldn’t comprehend it.

 “Hell, I can’t. The memories blur. I can’t tell him about my mates because I can’t remember most of them.”

 Liar. You remember the ones that really mattered, and your heart aches with loss.

 “Who’s telling this lie? I am. Leave Jon out of this.” Le-An refused to shed one more tear. The river was probably composed of most of those he’d shed over the millennia.

 Why should I? You won’t. You loved him with all your feminine heart.

 “Jon has been dead over 700 years. I should let him rest in whatever awaits on the other side of death.”

 Maybe we’ll find out someday. I’m not going to actively seek it. May I point out you have a new reason to live, in Brolly?

 Le-An stirred restlessly. “Yes. I’m going to have a long talk with Brolly as soon as possible. He needs to know. V, I’m going to tell him.”

 Silence.

 Are you sure, Le-An? You’ve never told anyone since Jon.

 “I’m sure. Hell, I’ve known him all his life. He’s unique, all that Jon was, and perhaps a bit more.” Comforted, Le-An snuggled down in the bed and breathed in air rife with the scent of what he and Brolly had done earlier. “Maybe I’ll even go back to being female once in a while. Brolly won’t mind.”

 No, he won’t object to that.

 “Good. Then we agree. Now shut up and let me sleep.”

 I’ll be here, as always.

 “I know. G’night.” Le-An fell asleep, content.

 * * *

 It was nearly dawn by his estimate when Brolly threw good, sturdy clothing into his best pack and tried to remember his one trip outside the Valley. Le-An had told him stories. Stories of how the weather had turned into something less than pleasant, like the old legends of rain and thunder. Tanne had produced a small, localized storm once, just in the meadow, and with great preparations to warn the surrounding creatures that the Great Flood was not returning.

 What a sight it had been! Hundreds of creatures, young and old, gathered to see water fall from the sky and mage lightning come not from a mage’s hand. Brolly remembered how cold and wet he’d felt. He laid a cloak beside the pack.

 “What in the name of all the gods are you doing?”

 Brolly jumped, his feet leaving the ground before he recognized Sella’s voice. She stood in the doorway, her mouth hanging open, holding a tray of his usual breakfast.

 “You look like a stranded fish, sis.”

 She closed her mouth with a snap. “Where are you going?” Her tone was carefully controlled. “What did the Pack say to you?” Sella put the tray down on the bed.

 Brolly breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t know about Le-An. “They want me to fight Aahz and become Pack Leader.” He shrugged, deliberately casual. “They won’t wait until they find Kenalf.”

 Sella was a smart filly. She put things together in a flash. “Kenalf was outside. You’re going to find him.” She reached for his cloak and snatched it off the bed.

 Brolly made a grab for his cloak, but Sella whipped it out of reach. Her eyes were tender and soft. “Hang on, Brolly. I’m not stopping you. Let me put a spell on it to make it warmer and waterproof. I’ll bring it back with some food I can pack for a journey. Mother taught me. Let me help you, please?”

 He was touched by her offer, and picked up a slice of toasted bread with melted cheese to nibble on. “Will your magic work outside the Valley, Sella?”

 “I don’t know, Brolly. You know I won’t leave here. But what can it hurt to try?” She turned and carted off his cloak, returning just as Brolly put his favorite knife into a belt sheath. The cloth sack stuffed with bread and dried meat would last him a few days, but it was all he could reasonably carry.

 Sella threw the cloak over his shoulders and helped him clasp it. She whispered softly, knowing his Werewolf hearing could pick up the merest trace of sound. “I know there’s more to this journey than what you’re saying, little brother. I hope you find whatever it is you seek.”

 Brolly turned and gave her a fierce hug. “Or it finds me. I need peace and time, Sella.”

 She nodded, her eyes glistening. “You won’t find that here, if it’s not inside you already. Come on, I’ll walk you to the entrance.”

 Brolly trudged, his depression growing. He looked longingly at Le-An’s closed door as they passed. His heart ached and wished he could just run in to claim a kiss goodbye, at least.

 Sella’s soft eyes missed nothing. “I’ll take good care of your patients, Brolly. There’s no one that can’t be handled by one of the other bone and knife specialists. I’ll tell everyone you consider it your duty to go seek your brother, for the sake of the Pack.”

 Sella kissed his cheek and patted his shoulder. “Beware of humans, Brolly. You don’t understand them, other than Uncle Joshua. Remember what he told you.”

 Brolly nodded and turned to walk the short distance to the place where he’d left the Valley once before. He threw back his shoulders, and stepped forward through the veil.

  

 Sella watched until Brolly was out of sight. Her chin jerked once. “I don’t think so, little brother. That story about the Pack is flimsier than a butterfly’s wings. Something else happened, and I’m going to find out what. Your last patient was Le-An. I’ll start there when I bring Le-An his breakfast.”

 She marched into the kitchen and prepared a small meal. Then she brewed a mug of tea from a special jar on the shelf.

 “Why are you making a strong sleeping draught, Sella?” Mejju asked, her eyes still half-closed.

 “Because there’s a possibility what I have to say may upset one of Brolly’s patients. Le-An isn’t going to like being cooped up in that room for the next few days.”

 A sleepy chuckle followed that understatement. “You’re right. Better drug him to his eyeballs.”

 * * *

 Sella watched as Le-An put down his drained mug with a satisfied smack. “A fine breakfast, Sella. Much appreciated. Will Brolly be by to check on my leg later? Or is he cutting on someone else this morning?”

 “Brolly left the Valley at dawn, Le-An. I’ll be handling your care. Not that you need much more than rest until that muscle heals itself.”

 “Whaaat?”

 Sella winced at Le-An’s shout, even while her eyes glowed with satisfaction. “Now, now, Le-An. I’ve changed your bandages a thousand times. Surely you’ve not turned shy on me?” She flipped the sheet back and verified what she thought she’d smelled. “Phaugh! You need a bath too.”

 “Why? Why did he leave?”

 The anguish in Le-An’s voice broke her heart, but the best way to gain information was to pretend innocence. She pulled scissors from her apron and snipped away the stained bandage. “To look for his brother Kenalf. I understand the Pack needs him.”

 Le-An yanked at the sheet, trying to get out of bed with a desperation she’d never seen before. It took all her Unicorn magic to anchor him to the bed. She put her hands on Le-An’s shoulders and forced him to look into her eyes. The potion was beginning to work. Le-An’s eyes could barely focus.

 “You are the only one capable of going outside and living to tell the tale. But you can’t do that on a gimp leg, Le-An.”

 Le-An’s eyes were glazing, but he managed to nod. With a day’s growth of beard, and his skin white from blood loss, he looked terrible, but the heartbreak in his eyes was worse. She had to give him hope.

 “I have watched you for years, Le-An. You do something to heal yourself faster than you should. Do it, whatever it is.” She released his shoulders. “When you can walk on your own, I’ll make you the best pack I can. Then you are going on a rescue mission. Can you do that?”

 “Yes.” The slurred response was followed by a snore.

 Sella nodded, put fresh bandages on Le-An’s leg, and picked up the bucket of warm water. “Fine then. You do that. In the meantime, I’m washing the stench of sex with my little brother off you. Welcome to the family.”

  

  

  

 Chapter Four

  

 Brolly was getting used to the strange landscape. Instead of green trees, grass and flowers, he saw trees of gold and orange, little grass, and only the rare flower. The cold chilled him to the bone. Thank the Goddess the sun was rising.

 He felt his belt pouch, knowing all the food Sella had given him was gone save for a biscuit showing signs of mold. He’d tried to be sparing in the three days he’d traveled, but now he needed shelter and sustenance. He didn’t dare change to wolf and hunt. This land was occupied.

 The town below in this pocket valley was fair-sized, with many outlying farms. Perhaps someone needed healing and would exchange a meal for it. He patted his pack with satisfaction. It bulged with the herbs he’d collected.

 “I’ll be happy to hear the sound of a voice besides my own. Mayhap I’ll even try out the Latin Uncle Joshua taught me.” He shrugged his pack more firmly onto his shoulders and walked down the wide path the humans used.

 Farms, Brolly understood. Some of the Vampires had farms. A farmer waved a friendly greeting, and then ran forward, when Brolly came striding past his farm. His babbling held only a measure of Latin. Brolly sighed. At least the fellow was smiling. “Hello, good farmer. I am a healer. Would anyone need healing in exchange for a meal?”

 The farmer was much taken aback, judging by the way his eyes widened. He replied cautiously in Latin, “Brother?”

 Brother? Could this man know of his brother Kenalf? “I am Brolly.” He thumped his chest to make it clear. “I’m looking for my brother Kenalf.”

 The man was smiling again. Brolly must have said something right. He pointed to a huge building perched on the mountainside on the western side of the town. “Brothers!” He babbled some more in that pretty tongue that reminded Brolly vaguely of the Vampire immigrants’ liquid speech.

 Ah! Brolly understood two words. “Food and healers.” The man gestured again to the big edifice.

 “Thank you so much, good sir!” With a goal firmly in mind, Brolly bowed to the man and got one in return. The farmer went back to whatever work Brolly had interrupted. Brolly took the hint and started walking toward the big building. Maybe humans weren’t so bad, after all.

 His nose disabused him of that notion quickly enough. Pointing to the building and saying, “Brother!” got him past the humans guarding the entrance. The stench of the guards’ bodies was enough to wrinkle his nose, but the foul air of the path through the town made him want to gag. He soon saw why, as he narrowly avoided a pot full of excrement tossed from an upper window to the area directly in front of him. It seemed to be nothing personal, because others jumped out of the way too.

 “Hallo! Brother!”

 Brolly turned at the sound of words he understood. Hurrying toward him was a thin fellow in a brown robe. A carved silver ornament hung from his rope belt. He reminded Brolly of one of the busybodies found in any race, determined to know every detail and be involved.

 The human bowed as soon as he was reasonably in range. “Your pardon for interrupting your meditations, Brother, but I heard from the guards you were going to the abbey and couldn’t speak the local tongue. Allow me to guide you. My name is Brother Jacques.”

 Brolly breathed a sigh of relief, and bowed in return. “I am most grateful, Brother Jacques. I am Brolly, and a healer.” He patted his pack to emphasize his profession.

 Brother Jacques gave a wide smile. “Ah! You are well come, then! There is illness, and we are an ascetic order.” With that, he yanked Brolly out of danger of another pot’s contents. “Come! You’ll have a meal and we’ll see you get started.”

 That suited Brolly, as did the hearty clap on his shoulder. He went with Brother Jacques willingly. “I’m also looking for my brother Kenalf. Might he be there?”

 Jacques smiled. “It’s a big place. But we can ask, can’t we?”

 * * *

 Le-An saddled the horse he’d gotten for a small number of coins in his favorite human village. He’d travel a lot faster and hurt a lot less with this great beast. The occasional job as a mercenary had come in handy, for he knew how to ride and take care of a horse.

 Sella had made him a fine pack and included two bedrolls. She’d even taken all his leftover coins and made piles of each kind to replace what he’d lost. The small pouch on his belt contained a few of each, but the rest were stowed in clever pockets Sella made in his bedroll, clothes, and pack.

 “ Merci! Merci beaucoup!” The fellow sprinted off as if he were afraid Le-An might take some coins back. No matter. Le-An had the horse, and the information that Brolly had passed by some three days ago.

 Le-An climbed awkwardly into the saddle and turned the reluctant beast toward the direction indicated by his informer.

 He grimly remembered the words of the stableman. “ Oui! The curly-haired fellow took off toward Claire Veaux. Insulted, my wife was, to learn he would not stay in our inn. He ate a little food from his pack and walked by our village without a word. My daughter was disappointed, let me tell you!”

 Le-An had laughed, but not for the reason the father of the disappointed girl might think. There had been a small spurt of jealousy, and then the amusement followed. Brolly would not notice a human female, no matter how pretty of form or face. “A tragedy, to be sure. I’ll go find my cousin and see to it he returns to his mother’s bedside before she dies.”

 A small lie, but safer than to say, “I’m following my lover. I want him back!” Sweet, innocent Brolly had no knowledge of how much danger he was in if he was heading toward the Abbey of Claire Veaux.

 He spurred the horse onward.

 * * *

 Brolly nearly lost his excellent lunch at the appalling conditions the ill were forced to endure. The room was darker than he ever allowed the cavern to get. The foul stench of unwashed bodies and death completed a horrific picture.

 Hard on the heels of the nausea came anger. He couldn’t stop the growl that rose in his throat. “Where are the healers?”

 Brother Jacques recoiled slightly from the snarl, and looked offended, but recovered his equanimity quickly. “There are none. Our brothers serve as best they can.”

 Brolly took a deep, calming breath. “Then I am the only healer? Does this make me in charge, Brother Jacques?”

 Eyeing Brolly speculatively, Brother Jacques seemed to come to a decision. “Yes. Yes, I believe that makes you in charge. Are you familiar with this plague?”

 Brolly marched to a bed near a window and threw open the shutters, nearly breaking them. He examined the very ill man carefully, noting the swollen nodes in the neck and under the arms. The fever. His sensitive ears heard the rattling in the throat that told him of danger to the lungs. “I have heard of it. I have never seen it this bad. Does it seem to start with a cough, sneezing, and a fever?”

 One of the other brothers in the room looked up and answered before Jacques could. “Yes, Brother. It does.”

 Brolly nodded, and patted the sick man’s arm. “I know you can’t understand me, but I think I can help.” He turned to the brother who had answered. “Your name, please?”

 The brother straightened from where he spooned broth into another patient’s mouth. “Andrew.”

 “Andrew, we have much to do. Gather the brothers who are brave enough to risk direct contact with the sick. I want no one who is not willing to work very hard.”

 Andrew nodded and spooned the last of the broth into his patient’s mouth. “What tasks shall we be set to, Brother uh…” His large blue eyes were eager to please.

 “I am Brolly. Some will be set to washing this room. Floor to ceiling. I want the foul straw removed, and not replaced. I want the bravest and strongest to give each of these people a bath, in the largest and warmest tubs that can be arranged.” Brolly paused. “I did not bring enough feverfew for this many. Is more available?”

 Jacques jumped in. “There is a small convent of Sisters here. I will ask for all the feverfew they have.” He sniffed in derision. “I’ll handle that. I don’t want the sisters in this place.”

 Brolly nodded with satisfaction. “Sisters brew the best feverfew tea. We will need great vats of it. Would they be kind enough to put aside their tasks to help us in this crisis?”

 “I am sure they would, for they have the women who are ill to care for.” Jacques seemed to dismiss the women, but Brolly knew his way around the prejudiced treatment of one over another. All he had to do was find a woman who would pass on the information to the female caregivers.

 Brolly took a deep breath. “For this last task, I must beg your trust, and a great favor. I wish all the moldy bread available from the kitchens, and the most drinkable of red wines.” He made a face. “It is a foul thing to feed an ill man, but I swear to you that it can aid those not too far gone, and save many. Will you trust me?”

 A choking sound erupted a few beds down. A patient who had been coughing began to spit blood, but before they could reach him, the death rattle in his throat was audible. Brolly skidded to a halt, and grabbed Jacques. “It is too late.” The man died before their eyes.

 Brother Jacques turned to him. “Many cough blood. How did you know?”

 Brolly shrugged. “My ears are very sharp. I could hear the rattle in his throat that always signals death on swift wings.” He stepped forward and closed the dead man’s eyes. He turned and begged. “Let us hurry before we lose one more precious life.”

 Brother Andrew ran from the room. Jacques stared for a moment. “I have prayed full often for a miracle to save these poor souls. Perhaps you are sent from God.” He fingered his necklace and stared skyward for a moment.

 Striding to open windows, Brolly sent Jacques a sober smile. “I do not argue with whatever brought me here, Brother Jacques. Nevertheless, here I am, and we have much to do. I must have light to see by, and air that is not foul to breathe. If I who am healthy need these things, who is to say our patients do not?”

 The mutter was perfectly clear to his ears. “It goes against all we know, but what we know is not working. We’ll do it your way. We have nothing to lose, for these men would surely die otherwise.” Jacques turned on his heel and left the room, shouting self-importantly.

 * * *

 Le-An found a fine little inn inside the gates of Claire Veaux just as dusk fell. He’d slept the night in what could have been one of Brolly’s campsites. It certainly bore the earmarks of one who took more care than most in a forest, and now he wanted a soft bed. A small copper coin pleased a little boy, who took his horse, promising good care. More coins piled on his table got him food, drink, and a smiling innkeeper at his elbow, eager to give him a room in the back and a private bath with one of the maids to tend his every wish, later.

 However, Le-An had more on his mind. “One of the guards at the gate told me of a new healer who came to town. A man with curling brown hair and brown eyes, who was taken straightaway to the Abbey.” He grinned at the innkeeper. “Now, I am a wise man. No one knows more about events than a man who runs such a fine place as this.”

 Gratified by the flattery, the innkeeper polished the table next to Le-An’s. “Aye, good sir. Why, the scandal reached us within the hour, and this morning the miracle!”

 Le-An gulped his drink to hide his terror, and smacked his lips, as if in appreciation. “A wonderful brew! Scandal and miracle from the same man? This is fascinating. Tell me more.” He slid one of the prettier golden coins toward the innkeeper when he noted the fellow’s eye upon it.

 The coin was gone in a flash. Now the innkeeper signaled the man behind a great table with his hand and sat down. “Well, then! For such a pourboire I will tell much!”

 He took a mug of the brew brought to him, and took a good drink. “It is said the young Brother walked in and took over the room where the sick are tended. He defied the Abbot and opened the windows, had the entire room scrubbed, and gave all the men a tea the nuns made. Then he made a great vat of a foul concoction and made all the sick partake of it!” He took a great draught of his mug with that pronouncement.

 Le-An tried not to choke in his own drink. His worst fears were realized. “Defied the Abbot, you say?”

 The innkeeper’s eyes were round and he shook his head. “Can you believe it? The most powerful man for three counties, and this mere boy walks in and takes over! Scandalous!”

 Le-An shuddered. “I am amazed.”

 The innkeeper nudged him. “That is not the most amazing part, my friend!” He paused for drama. “The boy wrought a miracle, it is said! The tea and the foul thing he served worked on fully half the sick! Overnight! Some are able to sit up and take sustenance on their own. Many are no longer fevered.” He leaned forward and looked around like a conspirator.

 Le-An took the hint and leaned over toward his garrulous tablemate.

 “Some dare say they will try it upon the women who are sick in the convent! A nun who serves the tea told of the miracle, and the Abbess meets even now with the Abbot! At this hour!” The innkeeper tilted his mug and finished off the last of his drink. “It is either a miracle, or witchcraft.”

 Le-An maintained the look of interest until after the man departed, saying he’d see to Le-An’s room personally. He forced himself to eat his dinner with seeming relish, and sauntered upstairs to take his bath and sport with the eager maid, as any man would.

 Only when he could politely dismiss the maid with another coin in her pocket, could Le-An sit on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands.

 “Oh, Brolly! Brolly! How will I rescue you from being burnt at the stake for witchcraft?”

 He fell on the bed and dreamed of the time they’d tried to burn him, and how much it hurt. Only this time, it was Brolly he saw writhing in agony while flames licked at his sweet flesh.

  

  

  

 Chapter Five

  

 Brolly wiped the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of the scratchy robe the monks had given him. He felt a little silly with no breeches, and now understood why his sisters hated their skirts. To emphasize the point, a cold breeze from the opened door chased up his leg.

 “It’s not right to sweat on one end and shiver at the other,” he commented to Brother Andrew as they bathed one very sick adolescent. “But the fire keeps the sick warm, so I won’t complain.”

 Brolly looked around with a small smile of satisfaction. Many of those he’d seen the first night now recovered their strength in another room, cared for by many more of the brethren who lived here. A full two-thirds had responded to the moldy bread and wine mix his mother had taught him was the only cure for this swift-moving killer illness.

 Now he was trying something new. Something he’d never had an opportunity to try at home. “I hope this new idea of mine works, Brother Andrew.”

 “I prayed at Vespers for it to be so, Brother Brolly.” The gentle, handsome man tenderly washed the boy down with the weak peppermint infusion they hoped would cool his fever while Brolly carefully patted a ground oat poultice on each black and swollen pustule with a small paddle.

 It was so nice of the humans here to adopt him; Brolly didn’t have the heart to tell them he was already adopted. That would have made for awkward questions. A fellow could never have too many brothers anyway. Wouldn’t Lionel, Shadow, and the others all choke to know that Brolly had been taken in by a huge human family so like theirs? It was so funny Brolly couldn’t help smiling.

 “I meant to compliment you on Vespers. Such beautiful singing! I was inspired.” Brother Andrew’s clear tenor had been so beautiful to hear, he’d almost wept.

 Brother Andrew blushed like a maiden. “The Gregorian chants? I enjoy doing them. Don’t they do them in your abbey?”

 Brolly shook his head. He wasn’t about to correct Andrew’s assumption that he lived in an abbey at home. How would Andrew understand the concept of living in a cave, no matter how luxurious? “I am not so fortunate! Only the most simple of music is available at home. One of my brothers can play a lap harp, and a few sisters sing, but that’s only for major celebrations. We’re too busy healing most of the time.”

 “Perhaps I could teach you.” Brother Andrew gave a small, quiet smile. “I have learned much from you, and would give back a little. It would give me great pleasure.”

 “A bargain, then!”

 A small, throat-clearing sound interrupted. Another of the many brothers stood at the foot of the bed. “Forgive me, but Brother Jacques asks if you have a moment, Brother Brolly. I am to lead you to him.”

 Brolly put down his bowl of oats and added enough water to keep it moist. “I can go now, if you wish.” He turned back to Brother Andrew. “I’ll be back as soon as I can to help you with the big fellow in the corner.”

 The boy in the bed sighed, arresting their attention. He looked horrid, stained with green tea and lumps of oat poultice, but his smile was sweet in his sleep. Andrew touched the child’s forehead. “I do believe your idea is working, Brother Brolly. See? He sleeps better and his skin is not so hot.” Encouraged, Brother Andrew picked up his bowl and went for more tea and the next patient.

 “Another reason to see Brother Jacques and tell him the good news.” Brolly smiled in triumph. He followed the portly brother out the door, his step light.

 After what seemed innumerable stairs and corridors, his escort brought him to a fine set of carved doors. Brolly knocked politely on the frame, and easily heard the call from within to enter.

 Brother Jacques sat behind a desk Brolly’s mother would have loved to set her claws in and make her own. It dominated a fine room with carpeting on the floor, walls of books, and a fireplace that warmed the chair of whoever sat at the desk.

 An older female sat in a chair to one side, all but her wrinkled face covered by layered robes. Brolly bowed politely to the lady, who looked enough like his Grandma Sedna that he instantly warmed to her. She even had twinkling blue eyes.

 As Brolly straightened, he caught the scent of the illness. It was fresh, and new. When he had a moment, he would tell Brother Jacques to stay away from the newly sick.

 “Good morning, Brother Jacques. You sent for me?”

 “Good morning to you, Brother Brolly. Yes, I did.” Jacques gestured to the lady. “May I introduce you to the Mother Superior of the convent of Claire Veaux?”

 Brolly smiled and bowed again. Ah, so this was the mother who adopted all these wonderful people? What a kind woman, then! “It is my pleasure to meet a lady of such generosity of spirit.”

 “The Mother is most pleased with your moldy bread and wine. It has helped many of the women. I understand you have attempted some new treatment as well, today. How did it succeed?”

 Brolly smiled at both of them. “I’m pleased to say it appears to be working well.”

 “Excellent!” The mother’s voice rasped as if she’d spent all her life breathing smoke. She shoved parchment and pen at him. “Would you write it down for me?”

 Brolly waved his hand. “It is so easy, Mother, you don’t need paper. It is weak peppermint tea, rubbed all over the body.” Brolly breathed a sigh of relief at the mother’s nod. The only written language he knew was Vampiric.

 Brother Jacques coughed. The scent returned. Brolly leapt forward. “You are sick! You have caught the illness. Come! It is time for you to go to bed.” He went around the desk and grabbed Brother Jacques’ elbow, even as Jacques’ protests were interrupted by another spate of coughing.

 The mother rose calmly. “I will see to it Brother Phillip is called, Jacques. I agree with Brother Brolly. Go to bed.” She picked up her paper and left.

 Jacques followed Brolly meekly to his confinement. “Can I at least be ill in my own room?”

 Brolly looked back at the luxurious room. “If your room is as fine as this, I don’t blame you. Come on then. Show me where it is.”

 * * *

 Le-An laughed and clapped the gate guard of the abbey on the back. “My thanks! Third level, to the right. Merci !”

 “ Bon chance! I hope you find your cousin quickly!”

 Le-An sagged against a wall as soon as he sauntered around the corner. He let out a whoosh of breath in relief at hearing Brolly was still safe within, and still working his “miracles.”

 For all that Brolly was slightly shorter and stockier, the fact that both had brown hair and brown eyes had worked in their favor. It had been easy to shrug it off by saying their mothers were cousins as well. The guard had simply nodded and offered to point out the barracks where mercenaries stayed. Le-An made a note to come back next time he needed mercenary work to liven up his life. He’d figure out what “escorting monks on pilgrimage” meant later.

 Le-An had waved the offer away. “No need, my friend. I am staying at the Black Ewe.”

 The guard’s eyes had turned respectful. Le-An pondered that anomaly even as he entered the huge doors and made his way up the stairs. What was so special about being able to stay elsewhere?

 It was easy enough upon reaching the third level to guess where to go. Le-An could hear coughing and smell the stench of illness coming from a room with huge double doors thrown open. As if that were not clue enough, light and fresh air poured from the doors, unlike the rest of this dark, dank place.

 A thin fellow in a brown robe saw Le-An lurking in the doorway as Le-An scanned the room for Brolly. The thin man approached Le-An with a gentle smile. “How may I assist you, Sir Knight?”

 Le-An recognized the speech as Latin. Not his favorite language. He hoped the fellow understood French. “I am looking for my cousin Brolly, monsieur .”

 The tired blue eyes widened with recognition and pleasure. His smile was instantly welcoming. In French, he replied, “Your cousin tends Brother Jacques. I will take you. I am Brother Andrew. I was on my way there.”

 Brother Andrew lifted a bowl of what smelled like peppermint tea, and gestured with it to the right. Le-An followed the man with relief up the stairs.

 Le-An held himself rigidly under control when he saw Brolly, dressed in those strange brown robes, tenderly putting another man to bed. “I never expect you to like it, Brother Jacques. But if we have caught it soon enough, you may have a fever overnight and be uncomfortable for a while, but you will live. This is the most important thing.”

 Le-An hated Latin. Confounded convoluted language. But at least he understood it.

 Brother Andrew moved quietly into the room and set his wooden bowl down in front of the fire, obviously with the intent to keep it warm. He then left without a word.

 The sick man took the bowl Brolly handed him with a grimace of distaste. “It is said that medicines rarely taste good if they work well. I must bear my burden.” He took up a spoon and ate, his face mirroring the fact that the stuff was truly foul to the palate.

 Brolly looked up then, and his eyes met Le-An’s. An unholy joy flared in Brolly’s eyes, and Le-An dared to hope that perhaps things could be mended between them. Le-An winked, then strode in. “Forgive me for coming, cousin.” He hoped he made himself understood in this cursed Latin. “I’ve come to escort you back home when you are ready.”

 The man in the bed choked and put down his spoon. Once he’d gagged down the stuff in his mouth, he smiled. “Ah, I see the Lord provides for you again, Brother Brolly. A mercenary cousin to see you safe on your pilgrimage back.” His forehead beaded with sweat. “Oh, I do begin to feel -- ACHOO! -- badly.”

 Le-An felt somewhat sorry for the human. He handed him a square of cloth from his pocket to wipe his streaming nose. Then he turned to Brolly. “While I wait for you, how may I help? I am ignorant, but strong.” His eyes pleaded with Brolly to let him remain.

 Indecision flitted across Brolly’s face. His hands twisted the towel in his hand. He was so agitated, he spoke in the common tongue of the Valley. “Le-An, you could get sick.”

 “I’ll risk it.”

 Brolly’s eyes softened, and his hands stilled. “You’d just stand outside the gates of the abbey and wait anyway, wouldn’t you?” His gaze lingered on Le-An’s lips, as if he’d love to kiss Le-An now, dignity be damned. “I’ve missed… home.”

 Le-An knew damned well what he missed. The ice around his heart melted, just a little.

 “Ah-choo! Excuse me, but I don’t recognize your tongue. What language is this?” The sick man in the bed had finished his bowl and now his face was alive with curiosity.

 Le-An smiled and bowed. “Forgive us, Brother. We were rude to speak the dialect of our home village on the other side of the mountains. I am Le-An, Brolly’s cousin. I hope to persuade him to let me serve while I wait, rather than be bored with nothing but my horse for company.”

 Jacques took in Le-An’s sword, boots, and muscles. “A fighting man, who wishes to aid a healing brother? Well, if you wish to humble yourself rather than be idle, then you should do God’s work, certainly. You are as welcome as your cousin! I am Jacques.” He stuck out his hand.

 Le-An had seen this gesture before. He clasped hands. “Well met, Jacques. But judging by the heat coming from your hand, it is time for Brolly to do his good work.” He released Jacques’ hot, sweaty palm.

 Brolly’s lips quirked as he handed Le-An the bowl of tea, still warm from the fire. “Well then, let’s get to work. We’ll have a long night of seeing to Brother Jacques’ comfort.” Then, quietly in his own language, he muttered, “Then you and I will talk.”

  

  

  

 Chapter Six

  

 Brother Andrew appeared late in the night, and immediately took the bowl from Le-An’s hands. Le-An looked up blearily and watched as Andrew gently removed the rag from Brolly’s. “Brother Jacques’ fever should break within a few hours. Go, and rest. There is little you can do until the illness releases him.”

 Brolly climbed to his feet, aided by an equally weary Le-An.

 Brother Andrew smiled sweetly. “The room next door is empty of brothers. They were among the first to die before you came. I took the liberty of having it prepared for you and your cousin.”

 Le-An was not sure in the half-light of the darkened room, but he thought he saw the quiet tonsured man wink.

 Brother Andrew held up a hand and continued to whisper softly. “If I were so fortunate to have a cousin from my home village to be with, and hear my own tongue again, I would wish him near.” Then he shrugged. “I am also selfish. I would like Brother Brolly nearby in case God does not smile upon us, and Brother Jacques worsens.”

 Leaning heavily on Le-An’s arm, Brolly chuckled weakly. “You are most kind, Brother Andrew. Yes, I must confess it is a pleasure to hear my own language and see a familiar face from home.”

 Brother Andrew shooed them out with a flick of his rag, showering them both with peppermint-scented water. “First door on the right. I will see you are undisturbed for at least two hours. When the time for Matins comes, we will be there in plenty of time to see the sun rise.”

 Le-An pulled Brolly from the room. “What the hell is Matins, Brolly?”

 Brolly was closest to the first door on the right. He fumbled at the ring, and pushed it open. “Matins is the worship of their god at sunrise. It’s very pretty.”

 Le-An sniffed the air. True to the monk’s word, the room was as clean as Brolly preferred a sick room to be. The spare nature of the room was proof it had been unoccupied until this night. The shutters were open to the night air, and the room smelled of herbs. Le-An shut the door and found himself pinned against it.

 Brolly’s breath teased the back of Le-An’s ear. “At last.” Brolly sighed. “Now I may express my joy properly at seeing your face.”

 Le-An, his cheek pressed to the wood, snickered. “How can you see my face at all when you’ve plastered me against this door?” Teasing was the only defense he had against the thundering joy in his heart.

 Brolly released him and turned him around, his face sober. “I’ve missed you.”

 Le-An stared into those golden brown eyes. “You have, my fine wolf? Then why did you run, and make me chase you down? Usually it is I who runs!”

 “I’ll explain later, in detail. I have more interesting ideas on what to do with these two hours allotted to us.”

 The caress against his trews left Le-An no doubts what Brolly had in mind. Neither did the insistence of the kiss that plundered Le-An’s mouth.

 Kissing a man was a pleasure not to be missed. No worrying about breaking hearts, or the dance of romance. You wanted, you took, if both were agreeable. Le-An was definitely agreeable.

 Brolly smelled of the herbs he used, and the pleasant aroma of clean sweat. Since his hands were now free to roam, he took advantage. Brolly’s muscles were a bit firmer than before, thanks to the hard work in the abbey and the walking he’d done to get here. His curls were longer, without his sisters insisting on regular haircuts.

 Le-An tugged on a curl that conveniently wrapped around his fingers. That yank broke the kiss. “I thought you were tired.”

 Mischievously, Brolly tweaked one of Le-An’s hardened nipples. “Sleep is for when you’re dead. I’ve better things to do to relax.” He brushed the other nipple. “Stay male, please. I owe you a promise, you may remember.”

 Brolly proceeded to undress Le-An in a very efficient manner, starting with his boots.

 Befuddled by this aggressiveness on Brolly’s part, Le-An blurted out more than he should. “I can’t change outside of the Valley. I can’t do anything. I’m mortal here.”

 Grinning, Brolly looked up from tugging off Le-An’s boots. “Really, now? Interesting. I promise to be gentle.” He tossed the footwear aside.

 Not the answer Le-An expected. “How about that promise? I think I’m the one who should be swearing to be gentle, since we have no oils to ease my way.”

 Brolly knelt before him grinning. He brandished a small vial. “I have oil. I’ve kept it in a pocket, since it is the last I possess. It should be enough.”

 “You think of everything.” Le-An took the vial from him. He felt a little exposed, leaning against the door with his pants around his ankles. It was interesting to feel so vulnerable. He was too impatient to care. “Aren’t I supposed to be the aggressor?”

 “We have both switched roles before. Why stop now?”

 While Le-An chuckled at the pun, Brolly lifted Le-An’s tunic and enthusiastically attacked the hard cock he found hidden beneath.

 As was to be expected, Brolly was an expert. He did not simply fill his mouth and crassly suck while moving his head. He took his time, wrapping his lips around the head and nursing like a suckling cub.

 Le-An gasped as his vision hazed. “Go gently, Brolly. If you do this as well as I suspect you might, our pleasures will be over much too quickly. Then you would still owe me a chance at your sweet ass.”

 A humming chuckle sent waves of pleasure through Le-An’s cock and thence through his whole body. Brolly released him with a small pop. “A price I’ll willingly pay, many times. However, you’re right. I just want to taste you as I’ve dreamed about since I left.”

 This time, he slowly took Le-An’s whole rod in, creating friction with his teeth, and did not release the delightful suction pressure at any time.

 He couldn’t help it. Le-An fisted a hand in Brolly’s curls and fought the urge to fuck Brolly’s face with enthusiasm until his thighs trembled.

 Brolly apparently noticed the trembling, since one hand rested on one of those thighs while the other caressed Le-An’s balls. He released Le-An again.

 Le-An didn’t know whether to sigh in relief or whimper at the loss.

 Rising and removing his robes with a hot look that held Le-An in an implacable grip, Brolly took the oil out of Le-An’s hand. He dribbled a generous portion on Le-An’s quivering cock.

 “Ready?” He handed the vial back to Le-An.

 “No.”

 “No?” Brolly looked slightly put out and disappointed.

 Le-An grinned and put his hands on Brolly’s shoulders, bending him over the nearest bed. The height wasn’t perfect, but it would do with a little acrobatics.

 Dribbling the oil, Le-An enjoyed the small intake of breath Brolly made. He caressed Brolly’s ass, and massaged the oil around Brolly’s anal opening. It puckered and relaxed, seeming to wink at him.

 “Now we’re both ready.” Le-An flung what was left of the vial on the bed next to Brolly, who fidgeted.

 He poised his cock head at the pink opening, and Brolly pushed back against it with a moan of desire. Le-An gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to ram home, and entered gently past the first tight opening.

 Brolly shuddered and pushed back more, helping Le-An ease in a little further until he was up against the second set of muscles within.

 Tight. So tight. He slipped carefully past the second set, and waited again to let Brolly adjust. “I never thought I’d cover a predator,” Le-An teased.

 Moaning, Brolly began to move. Le-An moved with him. The delicious pressure all around had Le-An already close to bursting.

 Breathing raggedly, Brolly asked, “That sounds like you’re not a predator. Or even a carnivore. Another clue. I like this. My enigmatic lover reveals himself by inches. Shall I guess?”

 Le-An couldn’t stand it anymore. He began to thrust home, now that Brolly was fully open and ready. The scent of their play filled the air.

 Le-An reached around Brolly’s hip and grasped his cock on the down stroke. Now he played and tugged in time to his own movements. Brolly’s ass caressed his entire shaft, sending pleasure throughout his body. His balls banged just above Brolly’s, making delightful echoes.

 The sane part of Le-An’s mind laughed at himself and his attempts to distract Brolly from guessing what he was. He told it to shut up -- all would be revealed soon enough. Coherent thought clicked off just in time for Le-An’s body to signal impending release.

 Brolly moaned softly. “I can’t hold on much longer, Le-An. Let’s go together into the abyss.”

 “With. Pleasure.” It was all he could say. He buried his nose in Brolly’s back and released. A warm slickness in his still-moving hand told him Brolly had joined him. He collapsed against Brolly, breathing hard.

 They stayed where they were, joined, until Le-An began to soften. He moved just as slowly exiting as he had entered, trying not to moan too loudly. As soon as he was free, Brolly collapsed to his knees, still bent over the little hard cot.

 Le-An spied a small pitcher and bowl standing in isolation on a table near the window. He forced himself to walk there and found a small rag neatly folded beside the full pitcher. “Brother Andrew is thorough.” He poured some water into the bowl and washed, gasping at the cold water. Then he rinsed and brought the rag to Brolly. “It’s freezing cold, but better than nothing.”

 Brolly had found the strength to crawl on the little cot and lie on his back. He too sucked in his breath, but allowed Le-An to perform the services of a lover.

 When Brolly was clean, but shivering, Le-An tossed the used rag in the direction of the bowl. It landed on the floor near the table, and that was close enough.

 Flopping down on the other cot, Le-An finally allowed his body to rest. However, his heart beat in fear. It was time, while Brolly was too tired to run. Time to reveal all.

  

  

  

 Chapter Seven

  

 “Why did you leave the Valley, Brolly? Was it because I’m immortal and so much older? Are you afraid?”

 The question startled Brolly out of the enjoyment his throbbing body provided. Still, he was too spent to move. He grinned in the darkness. “Partially, lover. I’ll admit, it does give one a bit of a turn to know you’ve fallen in love with what amounts to a demi-deity.”

 “You’ve decided you love me? Thank the gods. I didn’t want to suffer alone, again. Why else did you run?”

 Brolly put his hands behind his head in lieu of a pillow. It was chilly with the windows open, but he didn’t want to get dressed just yet. “I needed to think, without distractions. Work, however much I enjoy it, is a diversion that takes up the whole mind. I must decide whether to return to the Valley and fight Aahz, or continue my search for Kenalf out here. I don’t want to be Pack Leader, Le-An.”

 Le-An swallowed, hard. It was time. “You couldn’t, if you remained with me. I have my female side. It would ruin you for them. They want a lover of men.” He fought for breath and choked out, “Especially since I was born female.”

 Brolly rolled over and stared. “You realize you just admitted something you’ve never said before.” He laughed in the moonlit darkness. “Going to come clean?”

 A ragged breath. “Yes.”

 He was so shocked, he sat up, and his bare feet protested the icy chill of the flagstones. It was everything he could do to look politely interested, rather than avidly fascinated. Appearing too eager might cause Le-An more distress than he already displayed.

 Holding up one hand, Le-An swallowed. “Bear with me, Brolly. I’ve told no one for over 700 years.”

 “Why? Why do you keep yourself so secret? We all know you are very long-lived, and you don’t seem to age. You also heal very quickly. These are known.”

 “Those I can’t hide for long, can I? There’s more. Much more, and I’m not sure what to reveal. It isn’t just my secret, you see.”

 “You and who else?” Brolly was ashamed to admit he was a little jealous. Who else knew? Very few were over 700 years old, except a few Unicorns.

 “I… I can’t tell you. Except that you’ll never know them. They exist, but not as you understand life.” Le-An clamped his jaw shut and closed his eyes. “Perhaps I’d better start at the beginning. What I was, well, still am, sort of.”

 “Sort of?”

 “I’m changed. I’m not what I was. Not anymore.”

 “Okay. I’ll accept that, for now.” Brolly was still a healer. He could feel the fear and anguish coming off Le-An in waves. Fear of rejection, perhaps? “What were you? I swear I love you now. It doesn’t matter what you were then.”

 Tears rolled down Le-An’s face. “Say that after I reveal my secrets. You’ll either kill me, or laugh.”

 Brolly curbed his impatience and curiosity. Whatever this was, it was difficult for Le-An to reveal. “Just spit it out, Le-An. If it is so important I know, get it over with.”

 Le-An managed a weak chuckle. “It’s priceless to me. All my masks of bravado are about to come off.” He sighed and stared at the ceiling. “I was born a squirrel.”

 Brolly blinked. His jaw fell open, and he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. “I was just fucked by a squirrel?”

 The snicker from the other bed did not reassure him. “Um, yes. You might say that.” Another snicker.

 “I hunt squirrels.”

 “Not in front of me, please. It might be a relative.” Le-An continued to stare at the ceiling. He ran a finger through his short brown hair.

 A thousand things skittered through Brolly’s mind. Again, he simply blurted the first thought that rose to the surface with any coherency. “Squirrels are listed as unintelligent.”

 “True. And so was I, once. Until the Unicorns came and made my tree the center of the Valley creation.”

 For the first time in his life, Brolly saw a vision that went along with his healer’s empathy. A view from a tree, watching many colorful beings without understanding. A flash of colors and lights that was painful beyond imagining. Then, blackness. With that vision, came understanding. “The magic changed you.”

 Le-An sighed. “Yes. And tied me to the magic forever, as far as I can tell.”

 The implications were so far-reaching, they wouldn’t stay long enough for Brolly to sort them. “You are tied to the Valley. That’s why you’re immortal. That’s why you can’t do anything when you leave, and why you can be hurt outside the Valley.” A single thought rose. “For all intents, you are the Valley.”

 “No, not quite. Call me the living representative.” Le-An flung himself over onto his stomach. “Reject me now, if you’re going to.” He shut his eyes and turned his head away.

 But Brolly didn’t have just his eyes and ears. He had the empathy. That sense screamed, assaulted by Le-An’s pain and loneliness. It battered at him, telling him more. That Le-An lived far beyond his years with no choice. The weight of age and memories knew no relief. To be so tired, and to look on death as a release. No wonder Le-An left the Valley often. It was a way of seeking death.

 Brolly knelt next to Le-An’s cot. The wish for death was so strong his healer’s heart fought it automatically. He caressed Le-An’s hair and felt him stiffen.

 “And now you need not seek death, at least as long as I live. Werewolves mate for life, you know.” He pressed a kiss to the nape of Le-An’s neck.

 An instant of joy was quickly squelched. Le-An buried his face in his arms. “So do squirrels. But I’ll have to watch you grow old and die. The most horrible part is that I’ll envy you. Then I’ll be alone again.” Then the vision of graves and ashes. Former mates. Tears welled up in Brolly’s eyes.

 Brolly continued to stroke Le-An’s hair. “I can’t promise more than my own span of life the gods grant me, my squirrel.”

 A muffled laugh that ended on a choked sob came from the cot.

 Encouraged, Brolly continued. “But saying you’ll never love again is like saying you’ll never eat. I can hear the hunger in your heart for a mate.”

 Brolly’s tired body begged for rest, and his mind pleaded equally for a chance to sort this revelation out. One thing was clear -- for all the strangeness of it, he loved a squirrel named Le-An. That wasn’t going to change. He tried a feeble joke. “So I must bear the shame of being a Werewolf in love with a squirrel. That will keep me from revealing your secret.”

 The laugh that sounded was stronger now. “So it is. I’ve a sword to hold over you. You, a predator, have fallen in love with your rightful prey. What a match. The gods have a sense of humor.”

 Brolly got up and shoved his cot up against Le-An’s. The cots were so hard and firm, the combination made two beds into one. “Sleep, Le-An. I’ll still be here in the morning. And I still love you.”

 “It’s already morning.”

 “Then you have nothing to fear. I’m here, and it’s morning.”

 Le-An rolled over and they clung tightly to one another until Brother Andrew knocked politely on the door to remind them of Matins.

 * * *

 Le-An hefted the heavy basket of herbs and watched Brolly wave to the figure in the window. Their herb hunt had been successful, much to Brolly’s relief. The Abbey gardens had been decimated by the amount of need lately, and now those who knew what to look for scoured the hills.

 “Brother Jacques is doing so much better today! He’s determined to walk on his own.” Brolly grinned at his mate with enthusiasm, his eyes dancing.

 “With three days of constant attendance by you and Andrew, how could he not recover?” Le-An tried to be as happy as Brolly, but he couldn’t help disliking Jacques. He put it down to jealousy over the amount of time spent over one man, and refused to speak of his growing discomfort.

 Brother Andrew, on the other hand, was welcome company. The quiet, soft-spoken human had a sly wit and a beautiful singing voice. He never grated on Le-An’s nerves the way Jacques did. He was teaching them both to sing the beautiful melodies used during the many hours of worship they devoted to their god.

 They made their way to the Abbey stillroom and handed the herbs to the sister in charge. She immediately turned and began distributing handfuls to be made into medicines.

 “How many more hours until Brother Andrew comes to teach us?” Brolly whispered.

 Le-An, who had a better sense of time than his mate, grinned. “Another three hours, I would guess. I heard the bells as we left the forest.”

 “Good!” Brolly yawned and stretched, seemingly unaware of the provocative nature of his stance. “I’ve a need of a nap. How about you?”

 Le-An dared not leer. From a chance remark Jacques had made, they’d learned humans did not approve of same-sex couplings. “As long as sleep is not all you have in mind.”

 “Is it ever?”

 Giddy as a pair of naughty cubs, they pelted up the stairs to their room. The door banged shut behind them and they shushed one another, kissing between smothered chuckles.

 Le-An yanked off Brolly’s robe, for he still insisted on dressing like the other brothers. “You look like a female in this ridiculous thing.”

 Brolly busied himself unbuckling Le-An’s sword belt. “You’re the female, lover.” He looked up from untying the string that held Le-An’s pants up. “That reminds me. When we get back home, am I going to worry about wolf-squirrel crosses? Leanina definitely has your speedy reaction time, though she’s full Vampire.”

 Removing his shirt to become as naked as Brolly, Le-An’s voice was muffled. “Leanina is the only offspring I’ve ever produced, and she I fathered in this form. I’ve never given birth as a female. I guess the magic changed that too.”

 They attacked one another with enthusiasm. Le-An ended up on his back, with Brolly atop him, the joined cots squeaking to bear their combined weight.

 Brolly squirmed around like an eel to take Le-An’s cock in his mouth, and Le-An happily grabbed Brolly’s for a similar feast. The sounds of slurping and moans competed with the birds singing in the tree outside.

 Brolly had Le-An’s cock firmly down his throat when the door opened, and a roar sounded. “Abomination!”

 Brother Jacques leaned against the jamb, his face mirroring his horror. Just outside the door, Brother Andrew stared at the floor.

  

 Brolly and Le-An separated themselves hastily. Le-An muttered in their own language, “Aw, harpy droppings. We’ve fallen in the midden now.”

 Brother Jacques tottered further inside, and Brother Andrew followed, closing the door softly behind him without lifting his gaze from the flagstones.

 Shaking with rage, Brother Jacques could barely maintain control of his Latin. Le-An understood him perfectly even when he lapsed into a spitting, gutter French. “You are abominations in the sight of God!”

 Le-An listened as he recited something in Latin that sounded like rules. “This isn’t good. This really isn’t good at all.”

 “Now I understand how you wrought all these miracles upon our sick. It is witchcraft! You speak the tongues of demons! I am the Abbot here and I will see to your torture myself! I will perform my penance for being fooled after your ashes are scattered to the winds!” Brother Jacques began to name horrific punishments, including threats to make them name their fellow witches.

 Brolly stood with his head cocked to one side. “I can’t really understand you, Brother Jacques. Please calm down. What are a witch and a demon?”

 His innocent question aroused Jacques’ ire to new levels. He sputtered and spat without making sense, foaming at the mouth.

 Le-An sighed. In the tongue of the Valley, he muttered to Brolly, “Shut up for a moment. He’s threatening to kill us. I’ve been burnt as a witch before, and you don’t want to know.”

 Le-An strode forward and punched Jacques in the jaw. The raging man went silent and fell to the floor at Brother Andrew’s feet.

 Only then did Brother Andrew look up. He threw up his hands in defense. “I wish you no harm.” He looked down at Jacques. “I’m sorry he found out. I tried to stop him, but he insisted that he would show Brolly he could walk so he could return to his duties.”

 Brolly stepped forward and put on his robe. Le-An followed his wise example while keeping a wary eye on Brother Andrew.

 “Why aren’t you angry with us too, Brother Andrew?” Le-An asked quietly.

 Brother Andrew smiled as sweetly as ever. “I may have taken a vow of celibacy, but I too am a lover of men. Half the brothers here are the same as I, even if we have chosen a life of deprivation rather than give in to the temptation.” He shrugged. “I won’t say it is an easy life, but I am an orphan who found peace here.”

 Turning to Brolly, Le-An attempted to explain in as few words as possible. “Choice has been removed from you. Jacques is a man of great power. He will hunt us down like prey unless we return home.” Le-An buckled on his sword belt.

 Brolly snatched his pack from under his cot and stuffed a few things in it.

 Brother Andrew stepped forward. “Le-An, you must hit me too. I must be found unconscious beside the Father Abbot, or they will suspect I helped you and burn me.”

 Le-An nodded reluctantly. “I’m going to miss you, Andrew.” He clasped Andrew’s shoulder reluctantly in farewell and let Brolly slip past him. “Do me a favor, will you? My horse is stabled at the Black Ewe. Will you take him as my gift? He can’t carry both Brolly and I, and we dare not take the time to go fetch him.”

 Andrew nodded, and stepped back a pace. He stuck out his jaw in invitation, and closed his eyes.

 “I’m sorry about this.” Le-An drew a deep breath, and hit him squarely. Andrew sank down like a felled log in the forest, falling neatly beside Jacques in a heap.

 Grabbing Brolly by the arm, Le-An tugged Brolly away. “Come on, lover.” It would be a relief to give up this human life, this ridiculous language, and return to the Valley. “I’ll explain to you why all this has happened while we put as much distance between this place and our unburned bodies as possible.”

 “You hit him. He was our friend and you hit him.” Brolly’s golden brown eyes welled up with tears. “They adopted me and you hit them.”

 “They just unadopted you for the crime of loving a man, Brolly. Come on. Let’s walk casually out the gate and into the forest. We’ve a long walk home.” Le-An ushered the reluctant Brolly down the stairs and out the abbey doors.

 They made it to the edge of the forest before Le-An began to sneeze. Brolly dropped his pack instantly. He put his hand on Le-An’s brow. “You’ve got the sickness, Le-An.”

 “Nonsense. I feel fine.”

 Brolly tried to turn around. “I’ll go get the bread and wine. Won’t be but a few minutes.”

 Le-An grabbed his arm. “We don’t have a few minutes.” To punctuate his words, they heard a shout from the abbey. Le-An dragged Brolly into the shadows, and sneezed again. “If I am sick, we have but one hope. You have to get us home, Brolly.”

 He turned and picked up his pack. “I don’t care what happens to me, but if I die of the plague, they’ll burn you, and that I care about very much. Come on. I’ve got to get you home to safety.”

 Brolly stared at his back and began to follow. “But I care about what happens to you.”

 “Then get moving, lover. Because we just became each others’ best hope for getting home alive.”

  

  

  

 Chapter Eight

  

 The snow fell in heavy, fat flakes the size of the coins that remained in Le-An’s belt pouch. Brolly pulled the small, two-wheeled cart along the road, no longer able to see the mountains that had led him toward home for the past two days.

 He knew he was close, but the snow had changed the landscape to the point where he wasn’t sure of anything. He’d traded some of the shiny coins for a cart when Le-An collapsed, too fevered to go on, just outside a town that had once been burned to the ground.

 Brolly pulled the cart over to the side of the road, sheltering them in a stand of boulders and trees. Le-An lay in the cart, having thrown aside his blankets once more in the midst of his fevered dreams. He looked up from his nest of packs, blankets, and a few leftover supplies. His eyes held a hint of consciousness. His face was spattered with the black pustules that gave this illness the name of Black Death.

 Caressing the sweat-soaked hair of his lover, Brolly checked Le-An’s fever and willed himself not to shiver visibly where Le-An could see and worry. “Hello, my love. Do you know who I am?”

 Le-An nodded. “Brolly. Mate.” He coughed violently, and spat blood into the rag Brolly had given him.

 The wind was not so fierce among the rocks. “I’m lost, Le-An. Nothing looks familiar here in the snow. We passed a town a few hours ago. It looked familiar, so I think we’re close.” He leaned up against the icy side of a large boulder.

 Le-An nodded, and his eyes glazed for a few moments. Then he seemed to regain awareness once more. “Close. Tingle.” Then his eyes rolled back into his head and closed.

 “Aw, thunder. Don’t pass out on me now,” Brolly begged. It was too late. Le-An was gone again. Sobbing with cold and worry, Brolly covered Le-An back up and tucked the blankets firmly around his mate.

 There seemed to be no choice but to stop for a few hours. Long enough to perhaps make a small fire and get as warm as he could. He trudged out of the sheltering rocks and found a few bits of deadfall sticking out from the snow.

 Coming back with his arms loaded, Brolly tried not to despair. He was shivering uncontrollably in the robes Brother Andrew had given him. Once they had been too warm and scratchy. Now they seemed as thin as the gauzy fabrics his sisters had worn on hot days. At least he had his own clothes underneath them now, and his boots were warmer than the open sandals he’d worn in the abbey.

 His hands couldn’t feel anything, and hadn’t for many hours now. They were so cold they’d turned purple, then white as the snow around them. His feet were only marginally better, encased as they were in the boots.

 Scraping the snow away from the center of their meager shelter, Brolly laid the sticks in the pattern Le-An had taught him, and got out the precious fire-starting stone and knife. It was hard work to get the fire going, but soon he had a tiny, flickering blaze. Squatting next to it, he managed to feed it until it provided painful warmth to his aching hands and face.

 Using the tiny pot from Le-An’s pack, he melted a bit of the snow, and into this Brolly sprinkled the last of his dried feverfew and peppermint. “I’ve got to find you better, Le-An. Better shelter, better medicines. Home. I’ve got to get you home.”

 From the cart came the sounds of Le-An stirring. “Follow your nose.”

 Brolly rushed to feed Le-An the tea while he was still awake enough to drink. Le-An sipped weakly and coughed most of it back up almost immediately. He wasn’t truly conscious, and all attempts to get him to speak further failed.

 Turning to put the mug away, Brolly gazed at the ice-glazed boulders, his hope beginning to fade. The fevered words made no sense. “Follow my nose, indeed. I…”

 The boulders looked familiar. He stuffed the mug away in the pack and walked around. One of the outcroppings nearest the road had an almost flat top. “I know this place.”

 He ran to the back of the shelter. He saw a stand of evergreens on a slope, and fought his way to them. From the top of the small hill, he saw the lights and smoke of the village they’d passed hours before.

 The snow obligingly slowed for a few precious moments. Brolly turned his eyes east. There, in the distance, the forest wavered for a moment, and blurred. Home. He knew it, as surely as he knew his name. He whooped. “That blurry place is the veil of the Valley! I’m positive of it.”

 He thriftily put out his fire, and dumped the rest of the tea into the snow. There was no time for a warming cup now.

 Le-An moaned and threw off the blanket, coughing violently. His breath rasped in his throat and rattled, even as Brolly threw the pot into the corner to cool and covered it with a pack so Le-An wouldn’t burn himself if he took to thrashing about as some did in their fevered dreams.

 “Give me an hour or two, Le-An. We’ll have you home.” Brolly made the vow and yanked the cart around to begin the long, difficult journey through the forest without benefit of a road.

 His violent shivering didn’t matter anymore. They were close. A thought struck him like a club. “Close. You said close. You can feel it, can’t you?” It didn’t matter that Le-An couldn’t understand him now.

 He had no breath left to waste. They were climbing a hill, and it took every ounce of his strength to hang on to the cart and pull. He stopped and tore the hem of his robe to make straps. Then he tied himself to the cart, using his teeth to make the last knot tight on his cold-weakened hands. They wouldn’t hold the handles anymore, so he forced them.

 Finally, they reached the top of the hill. Rocky ground lay between them and what had to be the Valley entrance.

 Brolly fell to his knees, forced to rest. Outstretched and bound to the handles of the cart, his arms screamed with pain and fatigue.

 “Tingle. You said tingle. Does that mean you can feel the Valley? Does it tingle on your skin, like ants crawling? Is that it? Gods above and below, I wish I could sense it.”

 Sense? Sense as in smell? Could it be that he was close enough to change to wolf and smell out the Valley? “Could that be what you meant, Le-An, when you said to follow my nose? Gods, why can’t you be aware? Why must the illness take you so completely now?”

 Brolly wept in desperation, and fought his own knots. The left knot he could not budge, it was so iced over and tight. His right hand wouldn’t work. The white fingers refused to move, and were swollen. He tore the cloth with his teeth to free his hands. The right wrist slipped free, and his arm fell by his side, useless.

 Laughter sounded. Harsh, cruel, familiar laughter. His father, the Pack Leader, stood in front of him. “You little weakling.” He strode forward as if he would cuff Brolly. His son fought madly at the strap binding his other hand. “You’ll never amount to anything. I should kill you now.”

 The growl from Brolly’s throat surprised even him. “I am something, Father. I’m alive and you’re dead. You can’t harm me.” He glanced back at the cart, where Le-An lay unnaturally still and pale. “I have someone to live for, and a dream worth having. Go away.”

 “You’re still a cowardly little ball of nothing.” The taunt from his insane father echoed in his ears even as Brolly shifted to wolf and tore at the bindings holding his left paw down. “You won’t take up the duties I left for you. You went in search of your worthless brother rather than take responsibility for the Pack.”

 The sturdy fabric ripped, and Brolly was free. He turned, snarling, to face his father. In mindspeech, he growled, “I have a responsibility that is greater, Father. I am responsible for the health of the whole Valley, not one race! I will not let one being die.” He lunged, intending to kill his Father forever.

 The image disappeared. “Oh, really? You’re letting one die now, while you fight me.” The parting words echoed as Brolly’s teeth closed on empty air, and he tumbled down the hill.

 He couldn’t stop the yip that left his mouth when his hip struck a large rock hidden in the snow. When he stood, his left back leg screamed in pain. But his nose told him a different story.

 Flowers! I smell flowers. And grass. He turned, sniffing, until he had the direction. A large patch of rocks, yet unburied by snow, marked the spot. He limped painfully back up the hill to Le-An’s cart.

 Le-An lay still and silent save for the rattling of his breath. Brolly recognized that horrible sound. Minutes. He had bare minutes to push Le-An through the veil to Valley.

 He shifted back to human and pushed the cart the last painful distance to the top of the hill, and down the slope to the bare patch of rocks. His left leg screamed in pain, and refused to bear his weight.

 “Thunder. What a time to break a leg. Was it a hallucination, or am I going as mad as my father?” He panted, and sat down heavily on the rocks.

 How long he sat in a stupor of pain, he couldn’t say. The snow no longer fell so heavily, and he blessed any last favor the gods would grant. Even the wind had died.

 Silence. Not even the sound of Le-An’s rattling breath. Brolly scrambled to stand on his right leg. Was he too late? He tenderly felt Le-An’s chest. It moved beneath his cold-numbed hand. Brolly wept unashamedly.

 He brushed Le-An’s hair out of his face. The pustules looked better. They were still ugly, and some bled, but still they seemed less angry. “Could it be the Valley heals you, even a little, here so close? Could I be so lucky that I’ve been spared a few moments to say goodbye?”

 He kissed the lips he’d known so long. The lips that had kissed his small cub’s injuries away, and loved him so tenderly as a full-grown jack.

 The good right leg refused to bear anymore. It collapsed, sending Brolly sprawling. His flailing arms and body connected with the cart. It rolled a few more feet, and disappeared from view.

 Brolly hit the snow face first. He felt his forehead connect with something hard, and winced in pain. Then he knew no more.

  

 “Well, son, you certainly know how to go out with a bang, don’t you?”

 Brolly stirred feebly. The snow felt like a warm, soft blanket. “Shut up, Father. Don’t you have the sense to stay dead? Or is that part of being insane? I wonder if I’m about to find out.”

 “No, you incompetent twit. Look at me.”

 Brolly forced his face out of the snow, and blinked until his eyes cleared. “Can’t you just let me sleep? I’m so tired.”

 His father stood a few feet away, the trees clearly visible through his body. Green grass and an odd weed seemed to be there with him.

 “How can grass and weeds be here in the snow?” Brolly mused on that phenomenon.

 “Don’t you recognize the weed, stupid? Ach, you aren’t worth bothering with.” The image of his father threw up his hands and winked out.

 “Good riddance.” Brolly sighed with relief. Now he could sleep. He shut his eyes.

 “Brolly.”

 “Damn. Can’t a fellow get some rest around here?” Brolly peered through his blanket of snow.

 Le-An. It was Le-An. Only the trees were visible through him too. “What do you love, Brolly? What do you love most?”

 “You. Healing. Making things better.”

 “You can still do that, you know. Make things better. I’m waiting, Brolly. But you have to want it. I can’t make you come forward just a few feet more. You have to do that yourself. Won’t you crawl just a few more feet and follow? Come to where I am.”

 Brolly sighed. “Then can I sleep?”

 Le-An’s image wavered, his smile enticing. “Yes, all you want. I’m waiting. Come make things better for me. Don’t you want to?”

 “Yes.” Brolly felt his arms move. He forced his one good leg to push against a rock. At least, he thought it was a rock. None of his extremities seemed to have feeling. He slid a bit forward.

 “A little more, Brolly. Please. Do it again. I need you.”

 With Le-An’s insistent voice in his ear, Brolly forced himself to crawl slowly and painfully toward his lover. When he faltered, Le-An wouldn’t let him rest until he moved again.

 “Pushy bitch. Jack. Whatever. What do they call squirrel genders anyway?”

 Le-An’s voice laughed at his question. “It doesn’t matter, does it? Crawl for me, Brolly. Come to me and make me better. That’s it. Good.”

 “Am I done? Is this far enough?”

 The voice changed to a cool, feminine tone. One he’d heard before, somewhere. Yes, that’s far enough. I can help you now .

 Brolly slipped softly into unconsciousness with the ease of sliding into a pool of water. He felt the hands reach through the veil and drag him into warmth. Then he felt nothing.

  

  

  

 Chapter Nine

  

 Brolly had finally stopped shivering an hour after he’d awakened, warm and safe in his own bed, with Le-An beside him. Le-An looked much better, to Brolly’s relief. Many of the pustules had burst and begun to heal, giving Le-An an odd appearance. Still, Le-An was alive, awake, and in good spirits. That was all that mattered to Brolly.

 Le-An held his hand while Sella and Gilly performed their ministrations, and seemed to not wish to let go. That was perfectly fine, in Brolly’s mind. He’d almost lost Le-An, and didn’t want to stop reassuring himself that a pulse beat in Le-An’s flesh beneath his hand.

 Brolly saw Shadow waiting with clear impatience for Sella and Gilly to finish the healing spell on his broken leg. They’d already done all they could for his hands, and now he wore mittens of bandages that allowed him no use of them.

 Sella removed her hands from Brolly’s leg, and brushed her palms together with satisfaction. “There! That will do for now.” She shook a finger at Brolly while Gilly silently put on the splint. “You’ll not use this leg for more than trips to the privy, or you’ll hear it from me, Furface!”

 Moving with her usual silence, Gilly moved to the other side of the bed and gave Le-An more tea. Her soft voice was less admonishing. “You are lucky you heal so quickly. Drink up and restore your strength.”

 It astounded Brolly how quickly both of them had recovered from their ordeal. A few hours of sleep, and both he and Le-An were weak, but alive. Even Le-An’s face was no longer so ravaged, and the cough had stopped almost as soon as they’d been put to bed.

 “Ladies, may I speak to our two adventurers alone?” Shadow was close to fidgeting.

 Both fillies impishly bowed. “Yes, My Lord Herd Stallion!” they chorused. Shadow’s sisters never lost the opportunity to tease him.

 “This is Valley business, you two. Shoo! Go cater to another worthy’s whims.” Shadow pushed them both out the door and shut it firmly behind them.

 Le-An managed his old bravado. “Methinks we’re in trouble, lover.” He winked at Brolly.

 Shadow leaned against the door. “It is possible.” He turned his stern gaze on Le-An. “I just had a conversation with a human who waits politely outside the veil, agitated with concern over the blood of his friend Brolly on a boulder.” He paused. “He said he could smell Brolly in the blood. And flowers.”

 “Whaaat?” Le-An was the first to react. “It must be Andrew. How did he find us? How could he smell Brolly in the blood? How could he smell the Valley? It’s winter out there.”

 Brolly didn’t bother with asking questions there were no answers to. He flung off the sheets and reached for his clothes press. “Seems rude to ask you, but could we beg a ride, Shadow? Neither of us could walk that far, I think.”

 Gesturing to his naked state, Le-An chuckled. “I don’t have the energy to transform and make myself clothes in the process. I don’t suppose you have a few clothes too big for you to wear, do you, Brolly?”

 Shadow sighed and gestured. Le-An now wore his customary dark brown trews and linen shirt. “I’ll carry you both to the edge of the veil to verify the human. However, I’ll be damned if I waste time running. We teleport.” He gestured once more.

 Brolly finished lacing his shirt while sitting on his ass in the grove near the entrance they’d used that morning. Le-An helped him to his feet, and they tottered to the veil to peer through.

 Sure enough, it was Brother Andrew. He’d made himself a small fire. He shivered as he left to give a handful of grain to the big black horse Le-An had given him. When he returned, he sat back down with an obstinate look on his face and seemed to stare directly at them through the veil.

 Brolly made a move toward the veil, as if to step through, but was stopped by Shadow’s hand on his shoulder.

 “You can’t, Brolly. You will have to…”

 Andrew’s eyes had widened. “Brolly!” His shout carried through the shield. “Wherever you are, come out!” He looked around wildly. “I can smell you and Le-An. Please come talk to me.” He fingered his necklace with the carved wood cross and bit his lip. “Please?”

 Shadow wordlessly teleported them to a hidden place in the trees, out of sight of Andrew. Brolly and Le-An staggered in surprise, but held each other up. They weren’t dressed for the cold, and Brolly’s fingers ached in his bandages, but they stepped forward.

 Andrew rose as soon as he saw them, one hand remaining on his necklace, but his face wreathed in smiles. “I’m so happy to see you both are alive!” Then he noted the warm-weather clothing and bandages. “Can we go to your home? You aren’t well, are you?” His Latin was, as ever, impeccable.

 Brolly and Le-An looked at one another. In their own language, Brolly said, “I trust him, but Shadow would kill us.”

 “Shadow won’t.” Shadow stood behind them, not bothering to hide his horn button. “But I may use a spell to alter his memories if I don’t like what I hear.”

 Andrew smiled. “Ah, the fellow I talked to earlier! Thank you so much for fetching my friends.”

 Shadow bowed without smiling. In Latin, he replied, “I welcome you to my kingdom, Andrew, in the name of my brother.”

 Andrew caught the implications and sank to his knees. “Thank you, your Majesty. I am honored to know my humble friend is, in truth, a prince.” He looked confusedly at Le-An and Brolly, clearly wondering which was royal. “Oh, dear. Oh, dear,” he muttered.

 Andrew then bit his lip and squared his shoulders. He glanced at Shadow before putting his head back down. “Your Majesty, I have a second reason for following my friends, other than concern for their health. I believe they may be able to help me seek my grandfather.”

 “And how would these two help you do that?” Shadow asked coolly.

 “Your Majesty, Le-An bears a close resemblance to the man who fathered my father. They even bear the same name.”

 Brolly broke up laughing. Pointing a finger at Le-An, who stood in open-mouthed shock, Brolly roared, “You’re caught again, my friend.”

 Shadow quelled him with a look. “Enough. We will go to more comfortable surroundings, if the human is willing.” He turned to Andrew, who looked up bewildered. “Do you place yourself in my hands, never questioning what I must do to protect my home? Do you vow that you will die before revealing what you see?”

 Andrew nodded. “I do, and I so vow. I am your servant, Majesty.”

 “Then rise. Bring your horse.” He gestured and put out the fire. Andrew gasped, but meekly got the horse and stood humbly back from the others.

 Shadow stepped through first. Brolly and Le-An motioned Andrew to follow. Wordlessly, the gentle friar stepped forward and shut his eyes. The veil parted before either of them had a chance to open it. He kept walking until he disappeared.

 Brolly and Le-An stepped through. “Did you let him in, Shadow?” Brolly queried.

 “No, I thought you did.”

 Andrew smiled and shrugged. “It didn’t before. I found the wall I couldn’t see when I first found your blood.” He helped Brolly sit in the grass. “You should be in bed.” He glanced around. “Even in such a wondrous and beautiful place as this, you should be sheltered.”

 Le-An remained standing with a speculative look on his face. “If you are a descendant, then there’s one thing that breeds true.” Without warning, he swung his fist at Andrew.

 Astonishingly, Andrew ducked faster than the blink of an eye. Brolly’s mouth fell open. “He has the same speed as Leanina!” he blurted. “That’s why you closed your eyes when Le-An hit you. So you wouldn’t avoid the blow.”

 Le-An laughed and embraced Andrew, who looked wary before allowing the hug. “Welcome to my world, grandson!”

 Brolly simply put his head in his hands. “No more surprises. No more surprises. I’m staying home, and I’m never leaving.” He repeated the words in a singsong manner while Shadow abandoned his royal demeanor and laughed until he clutched his sides.

 “Yes, Brolly, you are newly mated, and now you have a step-grandson who is prettier than you!”

 “Shaddup, Hayburner!”

 “Andrew has had enough of a shock, I think. Where would he be most comfortable to stay? In your noisy, busy hospice or where?” Shadow grinned and nodded toward Le-An and the human, who chatted animatedly.

 Brolly thought carefully. “The Vampire temple, with the male priests. Now that they have returned to pure worship and no longer cause mischief, if Andrew can stand to be around females, that would be most human-like.”

 “Let’s ask him. That would be polite.” They put the question to Andrew.

 “A temple would be very nice, but what’s a Vampire? And why do you say, human-like?”

 Le-An turned red. “Well, Andrew, we aren’t human, you see. A Vampire looks like this.” He transformed, but smiled and showed his fangs. “They’re very nice people, really.”

 Andrew stepped back and turned white. He asked slowly, “You aren’t human? Then what are you? And, by extension, what am I?”

 Le-An glanced over and begged for help. Brolly and Shadow shrugged. “You were there, lover,” Brolly muttered in the tongue of the Valley.

 Le-An sighed. “Um, well, do you remember the stories of the Great Flood?”

 “Yes, of course.”

 Le-An paused, flicked a look at Shadow, and then asked, “Did your mother tell you stories of creatures who no longer existed, like Unicorns?”

 “Yes. Though she died when I was a boy, I remember a few.”

 “What do you think happened to all those beings?”

 Andrew thought long and hard, scratching his chin. “I’ll assume this is not an idle question.” He glanced at Shadow’s horn button, and Brolly’s golden-brown eyes, then closed his own. He swallowed hard, opened his shocked blue eyes, and released his necklace. “They live here, in this beautiful place, safe from mankind. My Lord in heaven.”

 Andrew sat down hard in the grass and rubbed his forehead. “One thing does not make sense. The Flood happened long ago. Yet you speak of it almost as if you have a memory of the event. Does time flow differently here? Like a slower stream compared to the fast river of mankind’s world?”

 Shrugging, Shadow chose to answer. “We don’t know. We live here, and it seems to flow normally for the residents. Perhaps you could tell us? My wife is a historian of the Elves. You might wish to discuss it with her.”

 Andrew was silent. “It seems I have much to learn first.” He looked at all three. “I may be presumptuous, but would you be kind enough to show me what you really are? I have the sin of curiosity, I’m afraid.”

 Brolly and Shadow changed, but Le-An remained in human form. Andrew gaped at Shadow’s silvery Unicorn form, and his eyes softened when he saw Brolly’s wagging tail. Then he turned to Le-An.

 “You didn’t change, Grandfather. I find it odd to call you that, though it is your proper title. I’m glad to know I’m not so orphaned as I thought, but my curiosity remains.”

 Le-An shrugged. “Call me Le-An. My only other offspring calls me Papa only to tease me. Unlike Brolly and Shadow, this is how I remain most of the time. Were I to show you my forms, we’d be here all night.” He glanced at the setting sun.

 Andrew nodded. “If time is something I have much of, we can discuss it at length. Nothing needs to be done immediately.” He stood. “Perhaps I can be shown where I might rest my weary head, get a meal, and think of all I’ve learned today? Would there be stabling for your, er, my horse there? Or could he simply be freed?”

 Le-An marched over, removed all the accoutrements from the horse, and threw them in the grass. While Andrew’s back was turned, they disappeared, courtesy of Shadow. Only Andrew’s pack remained in the grass. The horse wandered off to eat the lush grass.

 Shadow returned to human form and spoke the tongue of the Valley. “Brolly, can you put him up in the cavern overnight? It’s a long journey to the Vampire temple from here, and he’s had enough shocks without my teleporting you three.”

 Brolly nodded agreement. If his own head ached with these revelations, Andrew must feel as if he were too confused to move.

 “Then I’ll leave you in the care of your family, Andrew.” Shadow returned to Unicorn form and cantered off.

 “His Latin is very good.” Andrew shook his head. “I’m sorry, that was a foolish statement. I will likely babble like a fool for days.” He shrugged and flung his arms out helplessly.

 Brolly returned to human form, and watched Andrew relax marginally. Good. Familiar things would help. “How does some dinner sound, Andrew? Oh, and how do you feel about being around females?” He clapped Andrew on the shoulder and the three of them began to walk back toward the cavern. His leg felt much better, and the splint was becoming a nuisance, not a support.

 Andrew stared for a moment, then smiled shyly. “They are as much of a mystery to me as this place is. I went into the abbey at the age of ten. I don’t mind giving up my vows to the brotherhood. They seem irrelevant here. Celibacy didn’t make any difference to me, since I’d already realized I preferred men. My contacts with the convent sisters were rare and brief.”

 Le-An chuckled. “This is a new world for you, Andrew. Here, you may love men and it is not considered a bad thing, though you may disappoint Brolly’s sisters with your lack of interest in their considerable charms.”

 Andrew blushed. “I wouldn’t know what to do with them, anyway. I don’t even speak their language. Are the men as beautiful as the women? That subject is less abstract for me.” His face flamed even redder. “I’m virginal no matter which way you look at it. I know what I like, but I’ve never tried.”

 If I know the denizens of the Valley, once they get over being scared of you, your virginal state will be a thing of the past, Brolly thought, but kept it to himself. There were some things a fellow just had to find out for himself.

 There were other more immediate issues to deal with. For instance, how to get a human accepted without screams of terror. Worse, how to avoid another war like the one three hundred years before when the last human entered the Valley?

 Brolly’s head ached.

  

  

  

 Chapter Ten

  

 Brolly staggered back to his room and prayed for a measure of peace. He’d spent the last few hours beside Shadow, calming the fears of the Council and his family over the presence of a human in the Valley. Only Shadow’s acceptance calmed most of the fearful. Shadow reminded the nervous of how the human mage Joshua had lived in peace. The Herd Stallion defending a human was scandalous, but it had worked. Still, Brolly’s head ached from the arguing.

 At least he’d been able to remove the mitten-like bandages from his hands. He flexed his fingers happily.

 Andrew was now lodged in one of the guest rooms in the front of the hospice, comfortably full after a warm dinner, clean from a soak in a hot tub, and no doubt still reveling over the fine wardrobe Brolly’s sisters had “found” for him. Sella had been very clever about pretending to rummage in a trunk before producing “this old thing” or “these boots Father never wore.” Andrew’s humble innocent acceptance had charmed them all.

 As he opened the door to his room, Brolly was astounded to find Le-An naked and in female form, weeping as if her heart would break. His calm, unflappable Le-An? What was this?

 “Oh, my poor baby,” he soothed, and brought her a linen to wipe her tears, shutting the door on his way past.

 Le-An gulped down her sobs, and accepted the kerchief before throwing herself in his arms.

 He could guess a few things that would make Le-An weep like a leaky cauldron, but it was better to let her tell him. In his gentlest voice he asked, “What’s wrong, my love?” Then he marveled that he could make the change from a male-to-male relationship to male-to-female so seamlessly.

 “I’m sorry! I’ll go back to male. I always feel a bit less vulnerable that way.”

 “Why should you? I’m finding it very pleasant to hold you right now.” He did, too. It was different to hold a smaller Le-An who was as soft as a cloud.

 Sniff. “You don’t mind?” The large tear-stained brown eyes he loved hadn’t changed.

 “Silly. I love you. Not the form you wear.” In fact, the little bundle in his arms was making his cock harden. He ignored it and told it to behave while he kissed her wet face. “Now, what’s wrong?”

 Le-An stuck out her chin. “Oh, nothing much. Just that I’m suddenly a grandparent, my lover might still have to leave me to be Pack Leader, and… and…” Le-An looked away, taking great interest in a hanging on the wall opposite. “Look, every once in a while, I get overwhelmed. The memories wash over me and I think I’ll drown in them.” She sighed. “For nearly 700 years, I’ve been alone and lonely. That’s a long time to get set in one’s ways.”

 She tucked her head under his chin and snuggled. “Yeah, so it’s stupid, but I’ll say it anyway. I’m still in many ways a female. I’ve been scared to keep this shape for so long, because it is smaller and weaker. Yet it feels so good to permit myself to bawl like a bereft calf. It’s a way of letting go of the past. Now I’m scared to be a male. I’m terrified I’ll someday hunger for a woman. What will I do when I see that helpless anger in your eyes? Will you be there when I get back? Many of my lovers weren’t.”

 Brolly stomped down the small twinge of jealousy. It was true. Le-An could be all things to him, but he, Brolly, couldn’t be all things to Le-An. That day might come.

 Le-An waited for an answer.

 Brolly grinned. “You’re right, love. The day may come when you have to go seek a female to ease that side of your nature. I wish I could be female for you, but I can’t. Just do me a favor, hmm?” He kissed her pert nose as if he couldn’t help himself.

 “What’s that?” Le-An’s face betrayed a certain wary relaxation.

 “Try not to father any more unsuspecting half-squirrels on the humans. They can’t handle it well, and I don’t know what we’d do with a human village in the Valley!”

 Le-An’s face mirrored her shock before she understood he was teasing. “Oh, you!” She snatched up a pillow and hit him with it.

 He grabbed the other pillow as Le-An scrambled to the other side of his bed and readied her defenses. Since she was now giggling, he knew he’d eased her mind.

 One of the pillows burst before the third round of bopping, and the room filled with a snowstorm of feathers. A wolf chased a squirrel through the maelstrom, briefly, until she leapt and caught him around the throat, her chitters sounding like laughter.

 Brolly changed back to human, laughing so hard he couldn’t speak. His arms were suddenly full of naked human female again.

 Grinning, Le-An now kissed his nose. “You make all my problems go away.”

 Brolly gave her a smacking kiss on the lips before answering. “I wish I could make my own do the same.”

 She returned the kiss and deepened it. When again she lifted her head, her eyes were hot. “Make love to me, Brolly. Right here on the rug. I want to be female tonight. A whim, if you wish.”

 “Far be it from me to deny my mate whatever she wants.” He rolled her beneath him on the rug. He buried his face in her neck to kiss and nibble as he pleased.

 Her arms wound around his neck and she bared her neck for him. “Do you want me to change?”

 Brolly slid down to kiss the hollow in her throat. “No. Tonight I crave something small, soft, and sweet. You see? We are of the same mind tonight.”

 He proved it by taking one breast in his hands to hold while he suckled on a nipple. Even though her skin was more pliable, he could feel beneath it the fighter’s muscles that betrayed her occasional calling among humans as a mercenary. For some reason, this excited him further.

 “Does this mean I should submit?”

 He stopped to consider that, even while his cock twitched in answer. “I haven’t earned that.”

 Le-An bit his shoulder. Hard. “Oh. Well, then. Try to earn it.” She squirmed and fought him, grinning like any bitch beneath her jack.

 Gods, what a mate for him! He rolled with her on the floor, countering every trick she tried to earn her freedom. The chair scraped the floor when his body connected with it, and it rocked, showering them with its cushions.

 Brolly laughed aloud at the game. If Le-An had truly wanted escape, she had over forty ways to do so. Instead, she stayed in human female form, purposely weaker than himself. She would let him win, when he’d earned it.

 Finally he dragged a tiring Le-An onto his lap, face down, and spanked her pretty round ass until it was pink. He was in heaven. “I win,” he laughed.

 Le-An lay on his lap, panting, and her rosy cheeks practically under his nose. “Yes, this round, you win.” He could smell her arousal. When he put his fingers between her legs to gather up her juices she only jerked and squirmed. Hot, and sweet. “Brolly, fuck me. Hard. Please.”

 “That’s precisely what I had in mind.” Brolly picked her up and put her on her stomach on their bed, using the one remaining pillow to lift that conquered ass where he could access it with ease. Le-An helpfully shoved a few feathers off the mattress without moving her body, and grinned a challenge.

 He couldn’t get out of his clothes fast enough. A few laces popped, and his pants tangled around his boots. Forcing himself to calm, Brolly managed to get naked without looking too silly.

 He crept on the bed and kissed the still-pink ass he’d paddled, just to listen to her gasp. The scent of her need filled his nose and made him long for a taste. Just a little lick. He buried his nose in her crack and licked like he was still in lupine form. Sweet and creamy, she was better than a holiday confection. That deserved another lick.

 Le-An ground her ass in his face and covered his chin with her juices. She moaned. “Brolly! If you don’t get up there and fuck me properly, I’ll… I’ll turn male and fuck you. That’s a promise.”

 “Yes, ma’am!” He wiped his chin and climbed up, ready to cover her.

 There was no need for a slow, careful entry. He paused only long enough to give her warning of her impalement before he plowed in and buried himself to his balls. The hot silk of her pussy made him shudder even as her muscles tightened around him.

 Gasping, Le-An raised up a tiny bit more from the pillow. He used the upstroke to pull almost completely out before plunging back in.

 “Oh, gods, Brolly! I wish you could feel this.” She moaned, and squirmed for more.

 “I wish I could too, sometimes. Idle curiosity.”

 The wet slickness of Le-An’s pussy caressed his cock. It made him give her precisely what she wanted -- a good, hard fucking.

 Le-An buried her face in the pillow to muffle her cries, and used her hands to brace herself on the headboard of the bed.

 The seeming fragility of females belied their ability to take what would injure a male. Brolly was a healer. He’d seen for himself that females were, in some respects, stronger and more durable than males. He took advantage of those strengths to ease his considerable need for release.

 The sound of flesh meeting flesh clashed with heavy breathing. Incoherent words of encouragement were uttered in both high and low tones.

 “Faster, Brolly! Give it to me quickly! Please come inside me, now!”

 Le-An’s begging spurred him on until he thought he was hammering her fast and furious. He pounded until his body signaled his impending orgasm. However, Le-An had not cried out her own release. His body begged to finish, but he forced himself to remove himself from her. He had a rule he didn’t intend to break. The lady came first, always.

 Le-An whimpered. “Why did you stop?”

 Brolly pulled out the cushions from beneath his beloved mate. “Because I want you to orgasm first.”

 She rolled over, her face uncertain and wild-eyed. Brolly fell beside her and kissed her thoroughly before moving down to latch onto a breast, suckling happily.

 Le-An moaned. “If you don’t finish me quickly, then I’ll go to male and turn the tables on you in desperation. Then we’ll see. Oh, gods!”

 Brolly’s hand had crept lower while she threatened. He found her clitoris, already ripe and swollen, and ready for his fingers to discover. He dipped his fingers in her slickness, and used it to tickle and rub gently.

 Le-An threw back her head and howled, a sweet sound to her jack’s ears. She was bucking like a mad thing, alternately thrusting up to meet his fingers or trying to bury her ass in the mattress. Then she stilled and tensed, gasping.

 Burying fingers in her tenderized pussy, one by one, Brolly used his thumb to continue stroking. One finger was clamped down upon, and then released. Two fingers, and he pumped gently. Three fingers, and he buried his hand to the third knuckle.

 He could feel her impending orgasm with his healer’s empathy, and it was flavored with joy and love. There was no better proof to him of the constancy of her love than the emotions that hammered at him now, and he wondered briefly how he felt so much more than ever before.

 Only a few strokes on her clit, and she exploded like a mage spell gone bad. “Those talented healer’s hands have more skill than I thought possible.” Le-An panted, her skin flushed. Her hands buried themselves in his hair and clenched, before running her fingers through his curls. She shuddered and cried out until she begged him to stop.

 Brolly chuckled in triumph, released her breast, and climbed back on to ride her willing person to his own release. He’d seen a Unicorn who’d been stung by a bee on its hindquarters once, and he felt as if that bucking, twisting filly was beneath him now. Le-An writhed like a mad thing, clawing and crying out under him, giving him the ride of his life.

 The pulsations of her continued orgasms milked his cock toward an impressive finish of his own. He loved giving massages, but this was the first time his cock had been kneaded until his balls rose, begging for their own release.

 The whole room seemed alive with lights and colors as his body screamed its orgasm into his happy and receptive mate. What was more, his suddenly enhanced healer’s senses made him feel it from both sides now. His body, divorced from the happiness and love that surmounted even the sexual release, continued to pump all he had into her. For the first time in his life, sex was more than an act of simple pleasure, but one of shared love. Now he knew the meaning of the term “soul-bond” and reveled in it.

 Brolly rolled off and took Le-An into his arms. “That’s the wonderful thing about being a healer. I can feel your release as well as my own,” he commented as soon as he had the breath to speak again. “Let’s hope I can continue to be a healer.”

 They lay in the bed, cuddling and sharing the one remaining pillow. Le-An reached down to snatch the blanket and pulled it over both of them, her hands shaking. Brolly could feel a certain smugness radiating from both of them. He knew where his self-satisfaction came from -- in seeing Le-An nearly helpless and flattened by a happy, loving sexual encounter.

 He rose briefly and donned a robe. Sneaking through the darkened cavern and avoiding the busy Vampires who worked to see to the comfort of the sick, he brought back a goblet of wine to share. When he returned, Brolly sensed a change in Le-An’s mood to something nearly as dark as the room. Putting the wine on his clothes press and removing the robe, he crawled back in bed and drew her against him.

 “You never answered my question, Brolly.” Le-An’s voice was hesitant against his shoulder. “What will you do when I must seek out a female?”

 He started to give the generous lie that he would wait patiently for Le-An’s return. Some core of him rebelled against that dishonesty, and he opted for truth. “I don’t know. I’d be lying if I said I won’t feel any jealousy.” He hesitated, and searched the core of himself and the words to express the emotions.

 “It’s not females I fear, though I do envy them. I fear more that someone else will take you away, because I cannot be all things to you. I want to be, desperately.”

 He searched deeper. Memories of Le-An’s shape-shifting back and forth, overlaid with awe and, yes, envy. “I’ve been watching you change blithely back and forth all my life, and felt a certain envy for that ability to change genders according to need. What a marvelous thing that is to see. I’ve wondered a thousand times what it must be like to do that, and be so many things.” He shrugged the shoulder she wasn’t lying on. “I suppose I’m curious.”

 Le-An was silent, though a small spark of hope flared in her. He sensed it, and felt it ruthlessly squelched, and then hidden in some deep, abiding pain. “Why would you want to be female, Brolly? You are delightfully male. Most males, especially Werewolf jacks, would find the idea repugnant.”

 Brolly got up from the bed, and lit a lantern. “I need to pace, and think this through. I’ve never vocalized this, much less dared to think beyond the slight envy.”

 He put on his comfortable robe and belted it against the coolness of the night air. Le-An watched from the bed, and pulled up the blanket, no doubt feeling the same chill now that they no longer shared body warmth.

 Frustrated at his inability to put his emotions into words, Brolly ran an impatient hand through his hair. “I see different types of strength in all beings, no matter what their gender.” He looked into Le-An’s eyes. “You taught me that. It goes beyond the physical, and because I am an empath, I see things differently.”

 His memories supplied several instances where each gender displayed fortitude beyond the ordinary. Times when a male lost control and wept like an infant, and times when a female withstood pain far beyond her tiny frame.

 “Here, in the hospice, I see no genders. I see souls, weak and strong. I see bodies that need mending, and spirits that fight with strength far beyond the norm against disease and injury. Gender has nothing to do with that.”

 Le-An sat up and nodded. “I hesitate to put words in your mouth, but what you seem to say is that the spirit within is what holds the strength, not the form. Each being defines itself from within.”

 Brolly nodded. “No matter what form or gender you are at the moment, you are still Le-An. I see no particular ‘loss’ when you change to female. How can I not want to gain advantages by shifting to whatever suits the need?” He bent to kiss her hand. “I want to suit your needs. All of them.”

 Le-An snatched her hand away and faced the wall. He felt something indefinable, like hope mixed with something darker, pour from her. In a strangled voice she asked, “Have you ever tried?”

 Brolly resumed his pacing. “I don’t know how.”

 Le-An kept her back to him. “You know anatomy better than most.”

 “Yes, but as you well know, it’s more than that. I don’t want to be an ugly male with tits.” He shuddered. He had visions of himself with large hairy breasts, and winced.

 Le-An sniggered. “What an image. You won’t be. It’s natural for everything to… soften, I guess is the best word.”

 He bit his lip, and ran a hand over his chest. What would it be like? He’d always been as curious as a Gryphon cub. Nevertheless, his self-image was indisputably male. Could he manage it?

 What was the harm in trying? If he failed, they were no worse off than before. “Well, I can but try. Come here, Le-An. Let me hold you, and touch you. Maybe that will help.”

 She got up slowly, and went into his arms. He ran his hands over her body, and shut his eyes to feel the differences without lust. The weight of the breasts, the small waist, the fragrant skin. He formed an image in his mind. It was difficult not to keep falling back on the visage he saw in the mirror every day. He fought, and feminized that face.

 He felt a shift, and cautiously opened one eye.

  

  

  

 Chapter Eleven

  

 Fearfully, he opened both eyes. He was nose to nose with Le-An, who had a look of complete joy on her face.

 “You did it.” Her voice was quietly triumphant. She caressed Brolly’s chest, and a wave of pleasure ran up his entire body as her hand caressed a nipple.

 Brolly ran to the mirror on the wall of his bathing room, throwing off the robe that was now too large. There he beheld a short female with golden brown eyes and curly brown hair. He reached up to feel large breasts, and ran one hand down a trim waist he couldn’t see in the small mirror.

 Le-An’s smiling face joined his -- hers? -- in the mirror. Two feminine faces.

 Brolly stared in wonderment a moment, and then tried to look down. Frustrated, he tried to move his tits aside. “Can’t see a damn thing.”

 Le-An giggled. “There’s nothing to see, remember? It looks fine from here.”

 He began to dig in the cabinet below the mirror. “Ah-ha!” Brandishing a hand-held mirror, he strode back into the bedroom.

 Le-An burst out laughing. “What are you going to do? Sit on it?”

 Brolly looked up sheepishly. “Well, uh, yes.” Blushing was a new experience in this form. He tried dignity. “I’m a healer. I want to make sure everything is correct.”

 Le-An pounced, flinging Brolly backwards until both lay on the bed, leftover feathers flying around. “Everything looks fine.”

 The kiss between them was a new experience as well. Softness met its equal. Not unpleasant, certainly. In fact, it was very erotic, in its own unique way.

 When the kiss ended, Brolly grinned. “So I make a sexy bitch, do I?”

 Le-An caressed Brolly’s new equipment, causing a gasp. “Yes, you do. I can’t wait to take your virginity.”

 “I am not a virgin and haven’t been for nearly 300 years,” he replied indignantly.

 Le-An laughed and leered suggestively. “You are in this form, unless you were lying about never having done this before.”

 “Oh. Hmm.” Heat suffused his face again. “Guess I am.”

 “I’ve half a mind to take care of that little inconvenience right now.”

 Le-An caressed again, and Brolly felt the new sensation of heat and wetness where none had ever been before.

 Things might have gotten interesting, had they both not heard a commotion outside the room. Sella’s voice rang out, coming closer down the corridor with every syllable. “Brolly!! Get up, lazybones! Emergency surgery!”

 Brolly dove for the bathing room, while Le-An laughed like a loon. The door crashed open, and a bloodied Sella stood in the doorway.

 Sella took in the feathers flying around and a laughing, naked Le-An in female form. Sella put her hands on her hips. “Where’s Brolly? He’s needed in surgery. Two patients.”

 Brolly sweated and managed the change back to male behind the bathroom door. He snatched up his robe and donned it hurriedly.

 Sella breathed a sigh of relief when he strode out. “Kenalf returned last night. He and Aahz fought less than an hour ago. Kenalf isn’t bad off, just a dislocated shoulder. However, Aahz is wounded badly enough to need stitching up. What are you waiting on? Get washed up. You stink of sex.” She turned her nose up and left, slamming the door.

 Brolly threw off the robe and performed a sketchy bath at the basin. Le-An made use of the basin to wash while he put on his loose, comfortable working clothes.

 “Why didn’t you just stay female and do the stitching as a female?” Le-An asked quietly, as she pulled on her pants.

 “I would feel more comfortable doing it in my usual form, that’s all. Besides, my changing gender is likely to cause quite a stir. Let’s keep it between us for awhile.” Brolly dug around to find his boots, where they’d ended up under the bed from their play.

 “All right. I understand.” The tunic pulled over her head in a flash.

 “Come on, lover. Change to male and follow me. I’ll need your strength as well as my own to get Kenalf’s shoulder back in place.”

 Le-An changed form. “As long as you don’t make me help stitch! I’d be sick!”

 Brolly laughed, grabbed his hand, and ran down the corridor.

 Kenalf was in human form, and attended by Andrew, who prepared a draught of willowbark tea in the corner. Among the three of them, they got his shoulder back in place.

 Gritting his teeth, his face pale, Kenalf clung longer than necessary to Andrew. “This handsome fellow can help me to my room. Then I’m going to pass out. The Pack can wait until tomorrow.”

 Brolly took in Andrew’s flushed face and speculated the attraction was mutual.

 A grin of devilment lit Brolly’s face. “I take it you won?”

 For an answer, Kenalf sniffed in derision. “Of course. Now that I discovered that damned plant Father used to chew on was madweed. I never thought about it until I watched humans do it. They chewed on the stuff, and thought they were seeing all manner of things. Stupid fools. Then it hit me. I had a thousand memories of our father doing the same. I’d guess the stuff is addicting.”

 Mouth hanging open with shock, Brolly’s memory supplied the image of his hallucination while dying in the snow -- of his father, standing on grass and weeds, madweed being predominant. His hallucination had been his cub’s memories trying to tell him his fears were groundless.

 “Anyway,” Kenalf continued. “As soon as I’d put the bones together to see the whole prey, I ran back here as fast as I could. I stopped by Pack Lands first to see your brother Rolly. Aahz must have decided I was there to take his position, and attacked. Canny old fellow. Grisa tells me she’ll go with him into exile, her, and her cubs. He’ll have a completely new Pack to command, soon enough. Now go on and fix him up, will you? I’m sure uh -- what was your name? -- will take good care of me.”

 He grinned at Andrew, who blushed like a maiden. Brolly got the impression that Kenalf could handle his own wooing of Andrew, and that Andrew was not at all adverse to the idea. Brolly grinned and dragged Le-An out.

 “Did you see that? He’s got designs on Andrew!” Le-An’s shocked whisper reached Brolly’s ears even as they raced to the surgery room.

 “Don’t go getting protective of your grandson, Le-An. Andrew seemed interested. He’s a full-grown… uh, what do they call a male squirrel, anyway?”

 Brolly went into the next room to scrub with redwort. The room where Aahz lay was crowded with those already bandaging the less serious wounds. He could wait a moment for some of them to clear out. They wouldn’t let Aahz bleed to death before then.

 “Beats the hell out of me. I never cared. Besides, he’s mostly human, so call him a man. Don’t be so hung up on labels.” Le-An watched Brolly wash with the deep red solution and gagged. “That looks entirely too much like blood for my comfort.”

 “Could you handle rolling bandages for me?” Brolly put Le-An’s hands in the solution and scrubbed them for him, ignoring his green face. “If you have to throw up, there’s a basin on the table. Do it now, and get it over with.”

 Le-An visibly forced the retching down. “I can roll bandages. Your mother taught me.”

 “Fine. That’s your task. Come on.”

 * * *

 Hours later, Le-An and Brolly trudged back down the hall toward their bedroom.

 “What time is it?” Le-An rasped.

 He had thrown up, several times, and now his throat was sore. Fortunately, Sella reported he’d made it to the basin in the other room, every time.

 Brolly glanced down the hall to the main room. Light no longer flooded it, as it did in the morning. Shadows covered the more recessed areas. “Late afternoon, I’d guess.”

 Le-An sighed. “We were up most of the night, and then stitched up Aahz like a rag doll. Can we take a nap?”

 “I don’t know about you, but I want a bath first. I may be a carnivore, but I don’t enjoy the stink of old blood any more than anyone else.” Brolly was already stripping off his tunic as they wearily shut the door to their room.

 He considered for a moment. “Let’s do it as females. The tub was meant for one male-sized person, and we’d be forever the other way, one at a time.” He kicked off his boots and stripped off his bloody pants.

 He turned at the sound of a sniffle. Le-An stood in the middle of the room, already naked and female. “You’ve adjusted very quickly to this, and you’re the first who’s been willing to try to shift gender, just for me, much less succeed. You are the perfect mate for me.”

 Brolly strode forward to kiss off the tear that rolled down her cheek. “And you, my enigmatic, ever-changing love, are the perfect mate for me.” He paused and considered. “I don’t believe I’ve ever asked you formally. Will you be my mate?”

 Le-An buried her face in his chest and nuzzled. “With all my heart, for as long as love lasts.”

 It’s about time!

 Brolly jumped back, startled, as the cool, feminine voice sounded in his head. A faint glimmer of recognition soothed the alarm bells going off. “Who is that?”

 I’m going to make sure you have as long as you desire to share your love.

 Le-An had her hands on her hips. “V!”

 That was all Le-An got out before Brolly was hit with far more power than he’d ever thought possible to absorb. It was so strong it lifted him off the floor and wreathed him in light and color, even as he cried out in pain. He thought he’d black out at any moment, but he hung in the air, the pain so great, he couldn’t breathe.

 Then, as quickly as it had struck, whatever it was released him. He dropped to the floor, and then to his knees. His hands went to his face as he absorbed a multitude of sensations and impressions, as well as a feeling of an abundance of magical power.

 Le-An crouched beside him. “Brolly? Are you all right?”

 He removed his hands slowly from his face. Vertigo seized him for a moment, and then went away as quickly as it had come. “I think so. What happened?”

 I agreed you were the perfect mate for Le-An. Therefore I have to give you as much of a tie to me as she has.

 “That’s a first, V.” Le-An shook her head in wonderment. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

 “That’s the Valley. It lives.” Brolly couldn’t keep the awe from his voice. He also recognized that voice now. The “conscience” he’d heard and mis-recognized as his own, before.

 She, thank you. Haven’t you ever heard the earth referred to as a female? With all this fertility, how could I be anything else?

 “I stand -- er, kneel -- corrected. Does that mean I’ll live… er…”

 As long as love lasts.

 Brolly looked up at Le-An, and took her proffered hand to stand. Now that the initial shock was over, he felt a thousand times better than he ever had. Weary, yes, from the surgery, but his whole body hummed with power. He was nearly euphoric with the feeling. “Is this how you feel all the time? Like nothing is outside your grasp?”

 Le-An nodded, and closed her eyes for a moment. Brolly guessed there was a quick private exchange between his mate and the Valley. “Yes, my love. What is more, you will never need another to feed you power for healing, ever again. You have a nearly limitless supply at your disposal.”

 A slow smile dawned on Brolly’s face as the implications hit him. “I’ve got much the same power as Shadow, only mine is directed toward healing, not mage craft.”

 More, actually. He gets enough to do his job, and no more. I’m not limitless!

 “Then why do we get more?” Brolly and Le-An chorused together.

 Whom else can I call on to be my hands when something needs doing? Le-An has been doing a fine job all by herself, but occasionally there’s a need for more than one can handle. Um, I hope you don’t mind, Brolly, but I’ve been working since before you were born to find Le-An’s perfect mate. You’ve deviated a time or two, but I can’t complain. A few flaws make for more excitement.

 Brolly cuddled Le-An close to his chest. “No, I don’t mind a bit. I’m looking forward to being an immortal healer mated to an immortal warrior.”

 And neither of you will ever be lonely again. I’ll be the little voice inside both your heads to keep you both on the right path.

 Le-An laughed and stared off into the air. “Do you always have to have the last word?”

 V chuckled. Yes.

  

 The End…

 For now.

  

  

  

  

 Unicorn Valley 4: Moontyger's Quest

  

 Moontyger, the scholarly Weretiger, must travel from her home in Tibet to find the missing Kirinn family who disappeared. Her Unicorn adventurer guide, Jamir, is overprotective and distractingly attractive, but he’s her only barrier between herself and the humans who might burn her for a witch or demon. If she doesn't kill him first.

  

  

  

 Lena Austin

  

 Lena Austin is a “fallen” society wench with a checkered past. She’s been a licensed minister, hairdresser, realtor, radio DJ, exotic dancer, telephone service tech, live-steel medievalist swordswoman, BDSM Mistress, and investment property manager. Not necessarily in that order. She never finished that degree in archaeology, but did learn to scuba. After a life like that, gardening is pretty restful. Of herself, Lena writes, “I’m tall, presently red-haired, and I look like an unholy mating between an Amazon and a librarian.”

 Visit Lena’s website at www.geocities.com/voiceomt2002/Lena-Austin.htm