Ann Gimpel by Earth's Requiem (Earth Reclaimed)

in the back of his throat. She could have sworn he was laughing.
    “So, human, where do we go next?”
    She stuffed a wild onion into her mouth, delighting in the bitter sweetness of it as she chewed. Waving the stalk in his direction, she said, “I’ve been thinking about that.”
    He waited, watching her closely.
    “I think we should go home. To my home, that is,” she clarified.
    “Why?”
    Good question. “Because all my things—well, the few I have—are there.”
    “Would you like to see where Marta and I lived?”
    A sudden flash of insight slammed her between the eyes. Rune wanted things from what had been his home. “I’d love to.” Her reward was a quick flip of his tail as he bounded to her side, eyes bright and filled with what looked like anticipation. She met his golden gaze full on. “We can get whatever you want while we’re there.”
    “Maybe you’ll want—” Head rearing up, his voice broke off.
    Senses on red alert, she leapt to her feet. It took a few seconds before she heard it, but wing beats filled the still morning air. “Just birds,” she sent, reverting to mind speech.
    “No. Ready yourself. We need to fight.”
    Trusting Rune’s instincts, she melted into the shadows of a tree that would shield her from something airborne. The wolf didn’t bother. He didn’t have to. His natural form was an effective disguise. For a ridiculous moment, she wondered if she could learn to shapeshift along with Healing and Hunting, and then she laughed silently to herself. Taking different forms was a Lemurian skill. No human had mastered it. At least, she didn’t think any had.
    She trained her senses on the skies, eyes narrowed in concentration. As surreptitiously as possible, she pulled power from the earth, keeping her magic out of the air. The wing beats got louder. Clearly, whatever was coming wasn’t interested in stealth—which meant they hadn’t zeroed in on her. Or else they were so strong, they didn’t fear anything. Not a comfortable thought.
    Aislinn caught sight of a leathery wingtip and cringed. Bats, but probably not normal ones. It was rare to find animals nowadays that hadn’t been turned by one side or the other. Hunters used bond animals like Rune to expand their ability to seek out and destroy the enemy. If Rune thought the bats were a threat, they probably were.
    “Draw one breath and fire,” the wolf said.
    “What will—?”
    “I will help you when they get close enough to pull out of the skies.”
    The minute she loosed her magic, the bats would be on them. So far, they hadn’t been discovered. If she stilled her power and Rune acted more like a forest wolf and less like a bond animal, the bats might just pass on by. They had to be headed for their cave. Nocturnal creatures, the daylight must be uncomfortable for them.
    “We may not have to fight. Pretend you are hunting. I will mute myself.”
    He didn’t answer, but she knew he’d heard. He sauntered away from her, sprang, and pulled a mouse from scrub grass and pine needles. The next rodent he pounced on looked larger, more like a marmot. Rune dragged it into the shadow of a boulder and proceeded to rip its guts open.
    Aislinn became one with the tree next to her, borrowing its energy to cover hers. Barely breathing, she willed the winged mammals on their way. They filled the skies above her now. Their sharp, high-pitched squeals were loud in her ears. They sounded angry about something. The bulk of them flew on. She was close to congratulating herself on calling this one right, when half a dozen wheeled back, heading right for Rune.
    What the fuck? Bats don’t attack things fifty times larger than themselves.
    “Rune. Swim to the middle of the lake. Stay there.”
    The wolf exploded from his place. Long before the bats reached where he’d been, she heard a splash and knew he was following her directions. She’d been afraid he’d argue with her. Chittering like little mad things, the bats picked up