Blood Price

Chapter 1

Branwyn's heart was racing. She shifted in the saddle and flexed her fingers, stretching the stiff leather of her gloves. Her mare, Arianmwyg, shook her head and stamped her feet, reacting to her rider's anxiety.

Branwyn patted the horse's neck, and breathed deeply, trying to calm her nerves. She had checked and rechecked every part of their gear. The first ride with the Hunt was an unofficial rite of passage among the u'Dziki, and she didn't want to embarrass herself. Or her father.

Especially her father.

Ciardha t'Ysbryd was the Huntmaster, known for his skill and ruthlessness. Every full moon, he rode out among the humans, punishing the wicked, reminding them to fear the Aos Si. He expected his children to follow his legacy.

Branwyn looked over her shoulder at her sister, and Blodwyn grinned, her pointed canines glittering in the early sun. Like Branwyn and the rest of the host, she was arrayed all in black. Even their mounts had been dyed sable for the occasion, and black streamers had been braided into their mains and tails.

"I'll bet you three silvers that Corwynt can catch up to the leaders," Blodwyn said. The spirited young gelding snorted in agreement

Branwyn shook her head, amused despite herself. "I know better than to take that bet. Besides, it's not as if you need the coin. You're about to need a second bedroom for all the jewels father brings you," she replied, trying to keep her voice light. It wasn't Blodwyn's fault that Ciardha favored her.

Blodwyn laughed. "Believe me, you're welcome to them, for all the good they're doing me," she said, her face abruptly turning serious. "They aren't worth anything anyway. He's just showing off. I can make more realistic jewels than he can, now. But what's the point? I'm going to do something useful with my gifts. Not just lord it over everyone else."

"I know," Branwyn said, reaching out to clasp her sister's hand. "You're different than he is."

Identical twins were rare among the Aos Si, and some believed they shared a soul. Branwyn wasn't sure if that was true, but even as their impending adulthood prepared to take the two sisters in different directions, she knew it was a bond that couldn't be easily broken.

Tender sentiments were typically unwelcome among the u'Dziki, but Blodwyn squeezed her hand before letting go, her eyes darting in excitement.

A shout rang out ahead, making Arianmwyg snort. A hound had gotten loose from the kennelmaster, and a raucous group of youngsters was trying to catch it before it caused any real trouble. Blodwyn laughed and charged off to help, readying some sort of magic rope and twirling it like a madwoman.

Branwyn was left alone with her thoughts, which were roiling much like her stomach. Yearning for distraction, she let her eyes wander, passing idly over the black figures of the other hunters. She couldn't see much, being rather short for a female Aos Si, but her mother had always said that observation was a good skill to practice.

The host seemed to stretch to infinity, a serpent with scales of black and silver. The only splash of color to be found was in the pennants flapping overhead, each family declaring their presence in the assembled throng.

Branwyn was not a student of politics, so she didn't recognize all of the various crests and sigils, but up at the front was a symbol she could picture in her sleep: a silver fist on a field of violet, dyed dark enough to look black under moonlight. The family crest of t'Ysbryd declared that the Huntmaster would lead the riders personally, as he always did.

The throng roiled, moving like a flock of birds in flight, drawing Branwyn's attention away from the heraldry. Riders sat up straighter, unsheathing weapons and readying arrows.