Reader and Raelynx by Sharon Shinn

quite taken with the notion of keeping a raelynx on the property, and she had begged the king to allow her to keep it.
    Madness. Even Cammon knew that. But he loved the raelynx, and he had been secretly glad to learn it would be staying in Ghosenhall, where he could visit it whenever he wished.
    It was quite a trek through the palace grounds to the walled garden where the raelynx was kept. Several hundred acres surrounded the palace proper, and they were divided into a broad diversity of terrain with a handful of attractions—wooded areas, streams, gardens, living quarters, stables, gazebos, and follies. The garden holding the wild creature was about as far distant from the palace and the barracks as it could be. It was surrounded by a high stone wall and closed with a wrought-iron gate. Winter-bare trees poked their heads above the fencing; dead vines clung to the stone and mortar. Through the open grillwork of the gate, Cammon could see more of the same inside—brown grasses, nude shrubs, the bent and colorless stalks of tall flowers patiently enduring the indignities of winter.
    He stepped close enough to set his hands on the rods and peered inside. It should be easy to spot the cat’s red fur in such a bleak environment, but at first he could see no sign of the raelynx at all. He could sense it, though, a great vortex of curiosity and hunger and violence. And awareness. The big cat knew Cammon was there just as surely as Cammon could tell the raelynx was near.
    Suddenly, as if materializing from empty space, the raelynx stood before the gate, watching Cammon with its huge dark eyes. Its tufted tail twitched slowly back and forth; the peaks of fur along its spine stood taut with interest. Some of its readiness to fight faded; in its place came something Cammon could not identify. Recognition, maybe. This is someone I have seen before. He is human but he means me no harm. Nowhere near as clear as that, of course.
    “So. You’re starting to know me, are you?” Cammon murmured. He was tempted to thrust his hands through the bars and stroke that watchful face, offer a friendly pat on top of the russet head. He knew better, naturally. This was not an animal that could be tamed. Oh, he had seen Senneth actually put her hand out and caress the bright fur, but only once, and the raelynx had been much younger then. Now, more than a year old and almost up to its full weight and strength, the big cat was too fearsome to tempt. “Are you lonely? Do you miss visiting with your wild friends—having your raelynx neighbors over for tea?”
    He couldn’t help but smile at his own nonsense, but the creature seemed to enjoy the sound of his voice. Its mood mellowed even more. It dropped to its haunches and watched Cammon with sleepy eyes. Cammon could pick up no urgent sense of hunger, so he guessed the animal had fed earlier in the day. Raelynxes were notorious for their ravenous appetites. Shortly after this one had been penned up in the garden—which was much too small to accommodate it—the queen had had a run built for it, accessed through the back wall. She also made sure live game was introduced to the garden every few weeks. Now and then, a watcher with a quick eye could catch a flash of red as the raelynx bounded down the run in pursuit of an unlucky rabbit.
    “But maybe you’re not a pack animal,” Cammon said. Moving slowly, he dropped to the ground on his side of the gate. The raelynx yawned and stretched out on the other side. “Maybe you roam your territory in utter solitude. Maybe you like Ghosenhall, because there’s not another raelynx for hundreds of miles.”
    The big cat snorted and settled its massive head on its enormous paws. Its eyelids drooped, but it didn’t quite allow itself to sleep.
    “You seem so reasonable right now,” Cammon continued in a soft voice. “Almost gentle. What would happen if this gate swung open, I wonder? Where would you run first? And would I be able to control you? That’s