My apologies, Ser Wolfe, the blond man replies, mortification flashing in the space between us. I get the distinct feeling that if he could move, he would be bowing. I am Sarran Mirransson, manservant to Lord Nicholas Titanbend. Hm, a manservant, not a bodyguard? Or perhaps the two are the same thing in this world.

  “Nice to meet you. As I tried to say earlier, I am a healer, and I’d like to examine Nicholas to ensure that he’s not hurt in any way. Unless you know of a good reason why he might have collapsed like that?”

  I do not, Sarran admits, then I feel the emotions around him focus. But we have a healer of our own. I would prefer to take Lord Nicholas there. Sudden dismay runs through him. No offence is intended and I thank you on his behalf for the offer, but our healer is far more familiar with him than you could be.

  “No offence taken,” I assure him. “And it makes sense to have your own healer help him. In the meantime, what should we do?” I know nothing about this world and don’t want to tread on anyone’s toes in the first half an hour of arrival. Carving my own furrow was one thing in the wilds; I’m fully aware that it’s completely different to do so among other humans.

  I must admit that my master has given me no instructions of what to do in his absence, Sarran admits, with a touch of embarrassment. Everything is telling me that Nicholas was not expecting to be absent. Perhaps you could remain in here until he wakens? I will instruct the servants to bring you everything you require.

  “All of my Bound are accustomed to the open forest,” I tell him bluntly. “Although we did sleep in caves and various other shelters, they’re not used to being inside a human building and are not comfortable here. Is there not a garden or a woodland where we can wait?” Nicholas is a lord, they tend to have things like estates, don’t they? Unless we’re in the middle of a city, of course. But if Nicholas opened a portal to an unknown person with an unknown amount of Bound in the middle of a highly populated city, I will think poorly of him.

  There is a garden and woodland, Sarran answers cautiously. But to get to either requires moving through part of the house. Can you assure me that your Bonded will not attack anyone they see?

  “As long as no one attacks or looks like they’re about to attack us, I can promise that we will act in the same way,” I tell him frankly.

  Of course, the manservant allows. That your Bonded would protect you is completely understandable. If you will be patient for a short time while I take Lord Nicholas to the healer, I will return and lead you and your Bonded to the gardens. At the same time, I will make it clear to the guards that you are to be treated as guests.

  I consider that carefully for a moment. It will require me to trust him to return, but I will have to trust him regardless. Nicholas needs to see the healer, and if he won’t let me do it – understandably – then Sarran needs to take his lord. Equally, I understand that he wishes to know we won’t be wandering around the building and picking fights with the servants and guards – and whoever else might be present. For all I know, there’s a coterie of other nobles hanging around in a sitting room and drinking wine, or whatever nobles do.

  At the same time, I’m aware of the unease among my Bound – though Kalanthia is the worst in that sense, she’s not the only one. This is a completely new place and the Pathway was discomforting by itself. It’s a credit to the average intelligence and loyalty of my Companions that none of them have panicked and have instead followed orders perfectly. But I don’t want to push that too far. Even if they’re different trees, being outside in nature will make everyone more comfortable. And I can’t deny that I want to see more of this world than just this room, as nicely decorated as it is.

  “Fine,” I agree finally. “As long as we have the understanding that we’re not going to hang around for ages waiting for you to return. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that it’s a large house, but if you’re not back in a reasonable amount of time, we’ll start exploring by ourselves.”

  It’s more of a warning than a threat, but from the sudden wave of fear that billows from Sarran, I suspect that he takes it as the latter.

  I will be as quick as I can, he promises.

  I sense that our time is coming to an end – Sarran isn’t exactly a pushover in the Willpower department, it seems, even if he’s not nearly as powerful as others I’ve encountered.

  “Regarding communication, do you have any ideas of how we can overcome the language barrier without resorting to a Battle of Wills every time we want to have a conversation?” I suspect that the question helps reinforce my assertion that I don’t intend to finalise the Bond between us as I feel a new wave of relief come from the figure opposite.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  I suspect that Lord Nicholas will have some ideas when he wakes, Sarran responds. I apologise that I cannot offer you anything better than that. Is there anything you would like to ask for yourself or your Bonded?

  “Some meat, please. Most of my companions are carnivores.” From the lack of surprise at that, I suspect Sarran had come to that conclusion himself. “And for myself, whatever you have handy.” I will need to confirm that the food here is safe for my digestive system, but fortunately a combination of Inspect and Flesh-Shaping makes that easy enough.

  Of course. I will arrange for some food to be available in the gardens.

  “Good. We will wait for your return. Remember, don’t take too long,” I warn him, then start stepping backwards. Relief accompanies me to the point where my sense of Sarran’s emotions fades entirely. I continue walking backwards until the Battle of Wills falls apart.

  Colour bleeds back into the world and Sarran is once more able to move. He gazes at me with uncertainty in his eyes for a moment, and then his resolve firms. Twisting his sword, he sheathes it and then crouches before Nicholas’s form. With two hands now available, he’s able to scoop the man up into a careful bridal carry and then stand up.

  The ease with which he performs the motion indicates to me that he’s indeed got a Class or there’s some other factor which is influencing his strength. He might be reasonably muscular, but Nicholas isn’t a small man. Plus, a bridal carry isn’t the easiest position to hold a body in.

  Sarran dips his head to me and then turns and strides quickly towards the great doors. I can see that the line of his spine is tense – understandable. Instead of feeling offended at his fear, I feel impressed by his trust. I know how my Bound appear, and wouldn’t want to turn my back on them if they weren’t my Companions.

  “Alright everyone,” I say when Sarran has slipped out of the doors, only opening one just enough to get out and then closing it again. “Here’s the plan.”

  I relate the conversation I had with Sarran and the decisions we came to. It’s not much more than a ‘wait and see’ but none of us has anything better to do at the moment. Not in a new world which we know little about.

  Everyone settles down a bit. Aingeal comes out from my armour collar, brightening and expanding to his normal size as he moves into the rafters curiously. I warn him not to risk setting fire to things. He replies with a sense of disappointment but reluctant agreement. Kalanthia lies down and closes her eyes, Hunter sits down on the dais and pulls something out of her belt pouch, Happy fidgets with a chunk of metal – forming it into different shapes. The rest start exploring the room, not that there’s a huge amount to see considering how bare it is. There’s no furniture and the walls, while bearing carvings here or there, are uncovered by any pictures.

  River picks curiously at the wooden panelling; Fenrir sniffs suspiciously at the floor. Catch and Iandee go together to inspect the doors Sarran vanished through, clearly interested in the handle and the hinges with Pride keeping a careful watch on them. I suppose it’s the first time they’ve seen such a construction – we didn’t get that far in my technology introduction. Ivor and Noir both leap into the air to try to reach the rafters, but Ivor turns out to be too big to sit on the A-frame. From the chirping sounds Noir’s making and the sense of teasing that comes over the Bond, he’s holding that fact over his brother’s head. Of course, the white alcaoris doesn’t take that lying down and the two end up playing a game of tag. Sirocco chatters at them in annoyance when they come too close to her perch, but only a few moments later, she starts joining in.

  After sniffing in all the corners of the room and rather loudly at the small door that leads off the dais, Artemis, Orion, and Trouble’s little group of male raptorcats curl up near each other. Not quite together, but I suspect that that won’t be long in the future – the male raptorcats and the deris seem to have rather hit it off. I don’t remember Artemis and Trouble being particularly close before, but perhaps I just didn’t notice. Ninja sits off to the side, intentionally alone. I feel the frustration of knowing that something is wrong with her, but also knowing that if I try to approach her about it, she’ll refuse to speak.

  Bastet comes to stand near me. I rest my hand on her head and send a final glance at the double doors, then sigh and turn away.

  “Come on, let’s sit down and wait.” I perch on the dais not far from Kalanthia. The big nunda eyes me and then turns around so her head is within easy scratching range. A wave of amusement goes through me but I give in to the implicit command. I feel the tension still present in the nunda, but it starts to fade as we engage in the familiar activity. Bastet nudges my other hand and it’s not long before Lathani sticks her head over my shoulder.

  I laugh. “I need three arms to keep up with you lot,” I tell them fondly, growing an extra one with Transformation and Flesh-Shaping to do just that.

  Of course, once it becomes clear that scratches are in the offing, even three arms aren’t enough as Trouble and Fenrir come begging. And then Ivor and Noir decide that head scratches are better than a game and try to shoulder in. A weight on my shoulder tells me that Sirocco has come to join the melee.

  Keeping order is a bit of a challenge, but they’re used to the idea of having to take turns, for all they don’t like it. I do have a limit on how many arms I can create – two is my maximum and only when I don’t have to focus on anything else. It feels a bit like trying to keep four different rhythms with hands and feet. Difficult, and one often goes out of time, but possible. I have a feeling one or more of my stats is influencing it – I was never great with running multiple movements simultaneously back on Earth.

  To be fair, it’s not a trial. Petting has become a bonding activity between me and my companions. And considering how everyone is feeling at least a little on edge, it’s just as well to calm them down in some way. Interestingly, I notice that the samurans come and join us too, though they don’t try to muscle in for some head strokes. Though River does give some strokes to Fenrir, Bastet, and Trouble, and Pride has clearly gone to demand some from Catch too. I watch as Iandee moves closer and hesitantly reaches out a hand to Blaze.

  The male raptorcat watches the approaching limb with caution, but clearly he’s seen how much Trouble likes the petting from River, so he permits Iandee to touch him. Within a short time, he’s pressing into Iandee’s gently scratching claws for more and Spot looks like he might start begging any moment now.

  I’m actually starting to relax. Then there’s a loud clicking sound from the doors. We all look over and freeze.

  here!

  here!

  here!

  here