But the creature began moving in another direction, and once the Dwarf Chieftain was certain it was not coming back, he continued his swim until his feet were again on solid ground. He collapsed momentarily but quickly hauled himself upright and off the exposed shoreline until he was hidden in the trees. Out on the lake, the dragon had reached a small island and was disappearing into a rocky stretch at its center—a place in which the Dwarf assumed it might have its nest.
He lay back, his heart pounding, exhausted by what had happened, safe for the moment but wondering how he was going to find his way back to the others.
Then a shadow fell over him, and he jerked upright to find Oriantha standing next to him, her young face bruised and her clothing ripped almost to shreds. She looked pale and disoriented, and without saying anything she dropped down next to him and looked back out across the waters of the lake to the island where the dragon had gone.
“Why did you do it?” he asked her after a minute.
She looked at him with her strange eyes. “What?”
“Grab hold of the dragon and let it carry you off as it did me. That was foolish.”
“I didn’t think about it. I just did it.”
“So that was you I saw back there hanging on to its hindquarters, wasn’t it?”
She nodded. “My other self. I had to stay that way in order to keep my grip. I am much stronger that way.” She paused. “You know what I am, don’t you?”
“A shape-shifter. I’ve seen one or two. But you’re no full-blood. You’re a Halfling.”
“Human mother, shape-shifter father. Hard to tell the difference between them, though, sometimes.”
“But Pleysia must have known the truth when she brought you along. Why did she keep it secret from the rest of us? Why did you?”
Oriantha hesitated. “I don’t suppose it will hurt to tell you at this point, since the Ard Rhys already knows. Pleysia is my mother—a full-blown witch who mated with a creature of magic and produced me. All this before she came to live with the Druids. But she never told anyone. She wanted me to follow in her footsteps. She wanted to bring me to Paranor when I was older and offer my skills to the order in exchange for being admitted as a member. Then she found out she was dying. She suffers from a rare disorder that is eating her body from the inside. There is no cure. So she brought me along on this expedition, thinking that if I distinguished myself I might gain admittance after she was gone. That the Ard Rhys would have to take me in.”
The Dwarf nodded. “She didn’t think she was coming back from this, did she?”
“She was certain she wasn’t. But she made me promise to say nothing until we were far enough out that the Ard Rhys couldn’t make me return. I think a few of the others saw what I was during the attacks in the Fangs, though. Those boys saw me, I know.”
Coram nodded. “The Ohmsfords, Redden and Railing. Those two don’t miss much, even if they’re still a bit on the new side of knowing. But they didn’t say anything to the Ard Rhys?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
He looked down at his boot tops and scuffed his feet along the earth absently. “How are your tracking skills? We have to find our way back, but I don’t think I know where we are.”
“I don’t think I do, either,” she said, “but I might be able to get us back anyway.”
He shifted his stocky body to a different position. “How?”
She shrugged. “Look at me. I am half animal, maybe more. I can find direction as my animal self much better than any human could. I can sense how and where to go. But you will have to bear me looking the way you saw me on the dragon.”
“I’ve borne much worse in my time.” He paused. “Tell me. Which is the way you really are?”
She laughed softly. “There is no one way with me. I am both ways and others, too. I have no real self. I shift back and forth as need dictates. But each form gives me something that helps me. So I just accept that I am not one thing or the other, but many.”