The djinn glared and the fur on the back of Rolfe’s neck bristled. “I am the only owner of this palace, not you, mortal, or yourcompanion.”
Annelise cleared her throat. “I believe that you have made a gift of this palace to myhusband.”
The djinn’s eyes flashed like lightning. “A loan, and a reluctant one at that. Just because I was forced to surrender it to a mortal man does not mean that he will be at peace!” She swirled, and the wind swept around them, pelting Annelise and Rolfe with cold chunks of snow as sheshouted.
“Powers above and powersbelow,
amend the curse that I madebefore.
My curse may be broken with love’ssacrifice,
but only if my palace is as cold asice.”
Annelise buried her face in Rolfe’s fur, her arms flung around his neck. “You cannot change the curse,” she dared to say. “That is notfair!”
The djinn laughed. “And when has the world been fair?” She leaned close, smiling so that Annelise saw all her sharpened brass teeth. “I like it warm in the garden.” Her eyes shone with malice. “Always, always warm.” Then she dropped her voice to awhisper.
“Lest this mortal plan for mydefeat
Let him truly become abeast.”
“No!” Annelise cried, but the djinn picked her up, forcibly pulling her away from Rolfe. Annelise screamed in protest but the djinn onlylaughed.
Then she flung Annelise into the gardens of thepalace.
The gates shut with a heavy thump, sealing Annelise on the inside and Rolfe on the outside. She heard him howl in frustration, even as she leaped to her feet and ran to the gates. She ran her hands over the portal. “Open,” she commanded firmly, hoping they would obeyher.
The doors shuddered, though, and did not open. Annelise had the sense that they struggled between two conflicting commands. Rolfe had given Annelise permission to command them, but she guessed that the djinn had made an order of her own. Annelise watched the gates shudder. She thought they might swing inward or even shatter. They fairly bowed with the force bent uponthem.
Abruptly, they stilled, leaving her barricadedinside.
* * *
The wolves howledof prey in theforest.
Aman.
Ahorse.
Not a company of six horses, but one rideralone.
Rolfe guessed who it mightbe.
Once Annelise was safely within the palace again and the djinn had vanished, he raced toward the other wolves. He smelled the fear of a horse and the trepidation of a man. He smelled mail and steel and leather and horse dung. He heard a man shout and the barking of the wolves. By the time he reached the pack, they were trotting after the horse. The destrier whinnied and stamped, tossing his head, more concerned with looking back thanforward.
The knight in the saddle was garbed in green andsilver.
It was Enguerrand, and that he lingered so far behind his company of men could only mean that he had witnessed events at the palacegates.
He knew all of thetruth.
Rolfe had no doubt this fiend would use that knowledge against him, use it to make Annelise a widow. He snarled in fury, feeling the raw power of the wolf inside him. Previously, he had been a man in a wolf’s skin, but on this day, thanks to the djinn’s intervention, he became of the wolf’s nature. There was evidence of the change in the manner of the other wolves: instead of easing away from him, clearly sensing that he was different, they welcomed him into the pack. He surged to the lead of the group, snarling and snapping at those who might have fought his ascendancy, and they ceded tohim.
He was directly behindEnguerrand.
It was time this knight rodeaway.
Rolfe barked and snarled, leaping after the horse. Although he had no plan to do it injury, the wolf within was hungry and smelled blood. He snapped closer to the horse’s hooves than had been his plan and the destrier bolted. It ignored Enguerrand’s attempts to rein it in and raced forward at fullspeed.
