Page 95 of Ash

This forest was home to not only him but many others of his kind. Satyrs were solitary, but families lived in loose colonies that covered large territories. Many of his people traveled the realms as tinkers and metalsmiths. But they all returned home to the forests for periods of time.

Jacques was often away, but the lights were on within his home, and he seldom traveled on his intel missions without his pet. Tyrez landed in front of it and embraced his human form. As before, he left his wings out, but shrank them down.

As he strode to the carved wooden door, his stomach growled. Those steaks were going to be well received; all the shifting he’d been doing lately had done a number on him.

The door opened before he got there—the Phoenix worked better than most high-tech surveillance methods. The creature in question now sat on her master’s shoulder, bright eyes focused on Tyrez.

The realms differed widely in terms of the technology each embraced. Dragons used as much of it as they wished, relying on clean sources for their energy—mostly geothermal in the palace, but also wind and solar.

Within each realm was one thing, between them was another matter. The gateways were an effective barrier. No one had ever developed any tech that could make that leap.

The exceptions were all organic. Sparkle could teleport between realms, so long as she knew where she was going. Powerful telepaths could also send messages among established contacts, but their services were neither simple—they had to imprint on the receivers ahead of time—nor cheap. The only other communication that transcended realms was the telepathic connection between mated couples.

Jacques’s bushy eyebrows elevated as he stared up at Tyrez. The Satyr was clothed only in an abbreviated version of shorts. His rather hairy torso was fully revealed—as were his goatlike hind legs.

“Tyrez!” he exclaimed, not without a hint of nervousness, and a glance behind him.

Based on evidence rather prominent beneath the shorts, the Satyr was unlikely to be alone, and Tyrez didn’t want to know the details. “I do not need to come inside. I have a couple of things for you to track.” When the Satyr nodded, he asked, “Can you get me a list of realms that have large oceans and violent weather? The cliffs appeared volcanic in origin.”

Jacques’s eyes widened. “That isn’t much to go on.”

Tyrez grimaced. “I know.” He handed him the slip of paper. “I also have to find this individual.”

Jacques stared down at the paper and his brows rose. “You are in luck. I know where he is.”

Tyrez’s heart raced. He’d expected it would take the Satyr a while to track the slaver.

Jacques glanced behind him, and then stepped through the door and closed it. “When I was searching for my client’s daughter, I researched this individual as well. His primary fortress is in a mountainous region of the Karank realm. But he only spends part of the year there.”

“Are you certain?”

Jacques quirked a bushy brow. “I am always certain. When am I ever wrong?”

The Dragon shifter snorted, but all he said was, “What are the chances he’s there right now?”

Jacques considered. “My source said he comes and goes. But when he’s there, the place is hopping. So if there is a lot of activity, he’s home.”

Tyrez’s wings flicked and then closed again. He should contact the palace and arrange for back up. But it was two hours to sunset—Razir would be asleep, or preparing for Aranta’s mating. He wouldn’t jeopardize that, and arranging for someone else would take time.

He could pop into the realm, check for activity, and then withdraw to plan for a raid, intending to grab the slaver. If they were quick, the Reader might still be here and they could piggyback on her contract for the existing prisoner.

Maybe this time, the trail would lead to Ash.

Thoughts of the golden Dragon decided it. Jacques’s furry brows rose as Tyrez took a step toward him.

“I need you to describe its location, and then I want to use your gate,” the Dragon said.

24

Jacques’s gate spat Tyrez into the Karank realm, deep within the town of Manit.

The similarities between it and the Riyanic city of Nazanta were noticeable, right down to the busy market filled with shady characters. The main difference was the altitude—sitting high in the mountains, Manit’s thin, cold air kept the residents bundled tighter.

But Tyrez wasn’t here for the mountain view or to go shopping. At least, not for merchandise, legal or otherwise.

The sun had already set in this realm, the lights over the market snapping to life. He used his universal currency to buy himself a meat-stuffed pastry. His body needed more fuel. Then he moved off the beaten path and headed for the outskirts.

For most places he visited, climbing to a rooftop would be sufficient if he were careful. But here, there be Dragons.

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