Page 217 of Dragon Slayer

And he shared all that he could think of; told him what to expect of his own abilities, about his need for blood, and the best ways to attain it, and control his own appetites. “Wolf blood is the strongest, and wolves are the easiest to feed from; they’re stronger than men, and can spare the blood. If the two of you can stay together, it would be mutually beneficial.” He glanced between them, and they nodded in understanding.

He warned them of mages, and of the possibility that Arslan could develop psychic gifts in the weeks and months to come. “I was four when I first began to dream-walk. It could take some time, and it might never happen, but don’t rule out the idea of it.”

And then it was time to bid them farewell.

A lump rose in Val’s throat. He choked it down, but his voice cracked.

Arslan looped arms around his neck, and a moment later Nestor crowded in on the other side, an arm around each of them.

Val closed his eyes, and breathed them in. They’d been the only sort of pack he’d had these past years, alone, without family or ally. Bright spots in the bleak gray of his existence.

“I will miss you so,” he said, “but you must do this. For me.”

Arslan cried some more, and Val’s own vision blurred.

He ensured they were well-stocked and well-dressed, and put them out the window. Watched as they jumped down to the balcony below, and then found handholds in the ancient stone edifice of the palace. Watched until they were slipping over the garden wall.

Arslan lifted one last wave.

Val waved back, imagining he could smell their sadness from where he stood at the window.

And then they went over, never spotted by the guards, and they were gone.

And Val was alone, in more ways than one.

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