Discovered (The Shalean Moon) by J. Lilley

house and his. The quickest way to get there was to shift. His haste was so great he hurt as his body changed, but in mere moments he was in full leopard mode. He shook himself carefully, stretched and made sure all his muscles were ready for the task ahead. The last thing he needed was an injury. Satisfied that he was as ready as he could be he moved down the drive, increasing his stride until his body was at full stretch. His fur flew as he ran faster and faster, and his spots seemed to flow together and blend into one.
    He lifted his head to the wind. He tried to project to Leira again, but it was like someone had tuned a radio channel badly—a load of static, and the odd word …
    ‘… ater … warm … perhaps … noooo …’
    The last word sent chills down his spine, but now wasn’t the time to speculate on what it all meant. He had to find them.
    Brios blessed his sense of direction, and his very powerful sense of smell. He hardly knew Rach; but, he knew if she was anywhere nearby he would sense her.
    A crash made him whirl around with his claws out, and teeth bared. A mocking howl was all he heard.
    ‘Loser. I have her, or what’s left of her and you won’t find her. She’s lost to you and to her Sept. I will win. You will be humiliated, and it serves you right!’
    ‘Struan, that’s a load of shit!’
    ‘Wait and see. She’s lost to you.’
    No way would he believe that. It wasn’t worth even thinking about.
    Another crash as a branch fell to the ground behind him. Something scurried across the road in front of him. If he hadn’t been so worried he would laugh as the horror-story clichés came thick and fast.
    Evidently, Struan had someone helping him who could whistle up magic. He knew darned well it wasn’t Struan’s doing, he was so malevolent at some times he was hard pressed to project; at other times he couldn’t control it, Brios could tell. He had been told hatred could twist your gifts into something unnatural and different; he’d never really believed it before, but now he was starting to.
    Howls seemed to come from every direction, followed by utter silence. Then, another leopard shriek and a growling laugh.
    Brios wasn’t overly fazed. In a battle, he knew his superior skills would win out. However, that would have to wait; he had to concentrate on Rach and his sister.
    ‘Oh Brios, if you can hear this please, please hurry! She’s …’
    ‘She’s what? Send to me.’
    Nothing! Someone was doing his or her best to interfere. It couldn’t be Struan, Brios knew for sure that the other boy’s powers were not, and never would be advanced enough to be able to do that. Could it be Struan’s dad—maybe, and if so, his dad would soon sort that out.
    Time to find Rach and Leira.
    ‘Any luck?’ He hoped Donny or Andy would project back with good news.
    ‘Nope.’
    ‘Not yet.’
    The wind carried a scent to him; his nostrils flared as he lifted his head; it was Rach. About a mile away, maybe a little further. He increased his speed. A fork of lightening hit the road between his outstretched paws and he reared up before continuing at his ever-increasing speed.
    What next, floods?
    Predictably the rain began, and he saw the ditches at the side of the road fill rapidly with water.
    Who could Struan get to help him with deeds so alien to the Shalean Creed? Perhaps someone else was controlling him for their own ends—using a Shalean to do their dirty work; the Rogues, he would bet his eyeteeth on it.
    ‘It is me. I am meant to rule.’
    ‘Ha, in your dreams!’
    There was a mind splitting shriek of annoyance.
    Touchy about it isn’t he? Brios filed that gem of information away to remember in his armory for controlling Struan later.
    ‘She’s drowning, you’re too late, loser. It’s all mine.’
    What? No way.
    The water was spreading across the road and his paws splashed through it. It was flipping cold, and his fur spiked. He was too worried to be bothered by it; or by the tiny