The actuality of spring could not be denied, although today, the wind was out of the north and possessed a hint of chill. Shell-en noticed its presence when it raised goose bumps on her exposed arms as she lay in the vibrant green grass at the edge of the creek. There were numerous small meadows along this particular stretch of the stream, and she was well familiar with them all, having come here often.

Shell-en always sought out the solitude to be found here when she needed a respite from the constant din of other people's thoughts and unowned emotions. Blessed—or cursed—since birth, her world as a Sensitive was vastly more vivid than anyone she had ever known.

Her maturity from a precocious, hypersensitive, green-eyed child into a strong-willed young woman of nineteen had been a struggle that defied description. Today, however, she desperately needed clarity—the clarity she knew from experience that could only be found in isolation with her feelings.

She was no longer a child, yet the conversation with her mother as she left home to go riding this morning irritated her to no end and had plagued her ever since, as it played in an endless loop over and over in her mind.

"Shel, you know Rawan will be here for dinner tonight, and what he wants to ask your father is really important for him and for you, so don't you dare be late!"

"Mom, it's what he wants. I'm not so sure it's what I want."

"Now, Shel, honey, I know it's a big commitment. But once you do it, you'll warm up to the idea."

"Yeah, easy for you to say. It's not your life. I'll be back."

Shell-en actually loved and respected her parents. She held their view of her place in the world with considerable regard. But why engagement? Why now?

It wasn't that she disliked Rawan. Quite the contrary. She had known him since childhood, and they were the best of friends. There was no doubt that he loved her. She just didn't love him in the same way. A plus in Rawan's favor was that he had learned to accommodate her sensitivities, but even after all these years, he still had little or no concept of the intense world she lived in.

Marriage wasn't a horribly bad idea. He was an honest and ambitious young man who would no doubt be able to provide a comfortable and secure life for her. A part of her could reasonably entertain the prospect. However, the growing knot in the pit of her stomach could not be ignored, and the word trapped troubled her to the very depths of her being. She was free to say no, and her parents would respect her decision. But right now, she just wasn't certain about anything.

The clarity she had hoped for this day had thus far eluded her grasp.

CR, her tutor, mentor, and friend, knew full well Shell-en's internal struggle and had offered words of council.

"If your intentions are unclear or conflicted, you may wish to surrender to the Prime Creator Goddess and ask to be guided to your highest potential possible for the situation. However, you must then accept without regret and act on what the universe provides."

This felt too nebulous and unspecific to be of any real use. But running the same thoughts around and around in her head without resolution was exhausting and served only to rouse her anger. She breathed a long sigh, rolled onto her side, and looked into the water. Scooping up a handful of the cold liquid, she took a drink.

The chill on her fingers and lips brought her out of her tormented thoughts and back into the moment.

"All right," Shell-en said, giving voice to her frustration. "Goddess, I need some help! I'm not getting anywhere on my own!"

She rolled onto her back again and took a few long, slow, deep breaths to help her relax, then repeated her version of CR's words of council.

"I intend for the Goddess to guide me to my highest potential in this issue of marriage to Rawan."

Over and over she repeated the words, until her whole body seemed to vibrate as she brought the full measure of her consciousness into focus on her intention. With each repetition, she felt more alive and powerful. A feeling of detachment flushed over her, and for a time, she felt at peace. A warm sensation of love and contentment engulfed her, and her dilemma melted away.

Suddenly aware of herself as a distinct, energetic personality and yet intimately connected to the whole of creation, the words "I AM" resonated in her consciousness. Intuitively, she understood that something, although she knew not what, was poised to change.

* * *

She must have fallen asleep, for the next thing Shell-en was aware of was lying on her back in the grass. Looming over her was the black muzzle of Tyon, his lips stained green from the spring grass he had been grazing since they arrived some time ago. The huge black stallion dwarfed her slender stature. She felt his warm breath on her face, and he smelled of sweet grass and the wild spring violets that grew profusely in the small meadow.

As Shell-en extended her arm and stroked his massive cheek, he pressed back against the caress of her hand. This was the kind of love she wanted in a relationship with another of her species—complete trust and understanding, with words that mirrored the thought behind them.

Her mind wandered off to the first time she saw Tyon in her father's holding pen. He had just been purchased from a family of nomads. They were primarily goat herders but occasionally traded wild horses that they had captured in the hills. It required four mounted wranglers with ropes on him to get the wild and terrified horse into a corral. His crazed raw power risked injury to himself and very nearly destroyed the fences in his attempts to regain his freedom.

As a child of five years old, Shell-en felt an immediate kinship with the animal, though she wasn't altogether sure why. For a full moon cycle, the horse resisted every effort of her father's trainers to approach and gentle him. Fearing for their lives, they had all but given up on the magnificent animal. Though disappointed, Callen, her father, was prepared to release him back to the wild as a free spirit that would not be tamed.

Shell-en watched all that had transpired from a safe distance. She could feel Tyon's thoughts and emotions, though she could not express this to anyone who would have understood. She remained silent and completely unaware that the great horse could hear her thoughts and feel her feelings as well.

One afternoon, she climbed the corral and stared at the horse. She thought, Such a beautiful horse. I would love to be your friend.

Tyon looked over at her from his location on the opposite side of the corral and spoke into her mind, saying,

Ah! At last, you have come forward, little one. I have been waiting for you to acknowledge me.

Shell-en was so surprised by his strong, clear voice that she lost her footing on the fence rail. She caught herself with her arms draped over the top railing and swayed in place until regaining a foothold.

You can hear me? she thought back to him.

Yes, of course I can. And you can hear me.

Having said that, he walked over to where she was perched on the fence. Little Shell-en was a bit apprehensive as the huge horse came right up to her and stuck his nose in her face.

Don't be afraid of me. I have been sent for you. I willingly gave up my freedom to play an important role in preparing you to eventually confront your destiny.

It never occurred to Shell-en to ask who had sent him. She was overjoyed just to have a horse friend to talk with.

You struggle so hard against the trainers and the men who brought you here. That doesn't seem very willing.

That was a performance so they would respect me and leave me alone. I am here solely to be with you.

Having projected that thought, he sidestepped up to the fence and said, Climb on.

Without hesitation—or thought, for that matter—she did as he directed.

Hold on to my mane.

She did as he instructed.

Now let's get used to each other, he said and set off, carefully walking around the corral.

The stable boy was the first to notice the scene and ran full speed to the stable master, screaming all the way. He was met with alarm, and the stable master summoned every available person to respond in a desperate effort to rescue the little girl at any cost. All converged on the scene in a total panic, only to soon realize that there was no one to save.

From that moment on, Tyon and Shell-en were inseparable. Tyon would cooperate with the handlers enough to obtain his basic needs and grooming until Shell-en was old enough to care for him. For the last fourteen years, the two had spent every available moment together, enjoying each other's company, living in their private, esoteric world.

Shell-en's thoughts brought her back to the moment.

"Tyon, when we first met, you said that you had volunteered and been sent to play a role in preparing me to meet my destiny. Who sent you?"

Tyon was silent for a few moments. He cocked his head to the side and appeared to be listening internally to something. He nodded his head as though acknowledging some unseen voice before replying to her question.

Shell-en, there are many other levels of reality that you are unaware of. The entire world—but yours in particular—is about to change, and you are a key player. There is so much for you to learn. But to answer your question in terms you will understand now, I was sent by a collective of beings that refer to themselves as the Game Masters. Their intent was for me to help you develop your telepathic abilities and to nurture your trust in the animal kingdom.

"Game Masters? Who are they?"

Sorry. I don't really know. What I do know is that they have devised a vast plan, of which you and I are a part. I have watched you mature into who you are today, and by asking the Goddess to guide you to your highest potential, you have signaled your readiness to take your first deliberate step as an adult.

A pair of ducks flew past them at high speed from somewhere downstream. Tyon raised his neck to full height, turned his head to look in the direction they had come from, and perked up his ears, listening at full attention.

After a short time, he looked back down at Shell-en and thought, Are you ready to meet your destiny, my friend?

Shell-en was shaking her head in confusion.

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

Tyon was visibly agitated and appeared apprehensive as he looked downstream once again.

We haven't time for an explanation. Just answer the question, he thought curtly.

Shell-en looked at him in disbelief. Tyon never spoke to her in this way.

"What's going on?" she demanded of him as she felt a rush of adrenaline start to course through her body.

Tyon looked her in the eyes. His stare was piercing and unwavering.

Do you trust me? he asked.

"Always, and with my life. You know that! Why?"

Then trust me now. Answer the question! he demanded.

"Well… Okay… Sure, I'm ready."

He reached down with his muzzle and lightly kissed her cheek.

Good. Gather your belongings. We must leave right now!

"Tyon, you're beginning to frighten me. What's wrong?" she asked as she stood up, bringing her riding cloak with her.

You'll see soon enough. Hurry!

Shell-en temporarily set aside her questions and quickly shook out her horse blanket. Throwing it over Tyon's back, she next stuffed the remains of her lunch supplies into her saddlebags and tossed them over his withers. She slipped the strap of her purse over her neck, grabbed hold of his mane, and vaulted up onto his back, as she had done a thousand times before.

Reaching down for the reins, she gathered them before her.

"Now what?" she asked as anxiety began to build in her throat.

Let's go see was all he thought as he started walking up out of the hollow.

His first few steps were slow. But then he picked up the pace, and with several quick jumps, they climbed above the creek bank and out into the open.

There! Tyon thought as he spun around and faced downstream to look at three men approaching on horseback.

Shell-en heard a deep male voice from across the creek on the opposite bank yell, "Over there!"

She looked and saw two more mounted riders on her side of the creek and another one coming directly up the creek toward where she had just been.

That's what spooked the ducks, she thought to Tyon.

The man along the creek she recognized from the marketplace early this morning. Even at this distance, that cigar in his teeth was unmistakable.

She had felt his attention focus on her as she emerged from the bakery and a second time as she was buying some cheese. Their eyes had met for an instant, and she hadn't liked what she felt. She had immediately broken eye contact and quickly left the marketplace. Once she had reached Tyon, hitched to a rail outside the mercantile, they swiftly left town. She had forgotten the entire incident, having far more pressing matters to occupy her mind. That is, until now.

"I saw that one this morning, Tyon. What do you think they want?"

Since you ask, I'd have to say you are about to be kidnapped.

"Oh, great. Just what I need! Why me? Damn it! What do we do?"

Shell-en reached out with her mind to intercept their thoughts.

"Whoa! That was a mistake. I hear everything from sell me to rape. I'm open to suggestions, Tyon."

We can try to get past them and head for home, he replied.

"I don't think that will work. They have all the trails blocked."

We can stand and fight.

"Tyon, we can't take on all six of them. They'll kill you."

You're probably right. And then you'd be left at their mercy. Well then, let's make a run for the mountains before they surround us. Either way, your life is about to change. Oh, and you're probably going to be late for dinner.

He actually chuckled to himself.

"Are you trying to be funny?"

Sorry. Are you ready?

"Fie! The universe sure acts fast."

The stress of the moment suddenly gave way to a heightened level of profound clarity.

"There really is no other choice here, is there, Tyon? Let's ride, my friend."

The instant she said it, Tyon reared up on his hind legs, whinnied a loud horse insult at the approaching riders, and then said, Hang on, Shel.

Six pairs of horse ears perked up at Tyon's degrading comment about their lineage. Six riders looked on as the great black horse wheeled around and, with an explosive leap, took off at a full gallop in the opposite direction.

Shell-en knew this horse could run. Countless times over their years together, she had let him open up on the road to home. But this was no road. This was across country. This was over brush, through drainages, and around trees and rocks. She held on for her life. Lying along his back, she let him have his head to lead where he might. She couldn't control him even if she wanted. All she could do was hold on to his mane, squeeze his flanks with her legs, and become one with him. She wished she had secured her nearly waist-length light-brown hair under her riding cloak, but she hadn't. Oh well, she reasoned it could be untangled later.

A rooster tail of torn-out sod, rocks, and dirt flew from Tyon's huge hooves as the two raced toward the foothills and mountains beyond. Six mounted pursuers spread out, thinking she would eventually try to double back and slip past them. They were mistaken. Tyon had no intention of turning around. He knew exactly where he was going even though Shell-en didn't.

They reached the foothills, and the brush gave way to hardwood forests. Tyon's lead steadily increased. Looking back over her shoulder occasionally, Shell-en could see their pursuers falling farther and farther behind. Eventually, they were gone from sight altogether.

Tyon came to the river and just plowed directly in with hardly a break in his stride. Shell-en quickly raised her legs to avoid the water. But in so doing, her shoulder bag hiked up onto her thigh and spilled her coin bag, her pocket mirror, and a comb into the river. In her haste to depart, she had neglected to button it shut.

Instead of crossing the river, Tyon turned and headed up against the current and remained in the knee-deep water for a considerable distance. When he finally came ashore, it was onto a cobble beach, where he carefully walked its length before entering the water again. Shell-en had seen him deliberately walk on cobbles before, and when she questioned him about it, his reply had been simply, "I grew up as a wild horse. Just think of it as being in training." She had left the subject at that, never having any reason to question, "Training for what?"

Three more times he climbed out of the water onto the cobble beaches and then back into the water before, eventually, the beaches came to an abrupt end, and the water became too deep. All that was left now was a solid slab of bedrock, and he came out of the water onto it and flanked the river for over half a league without ever leaving so much as a trace of a hoofprint. It occurred to Shell-en that he was purposely avoiding anything that would leave an identifying mark of their presence.

At some point, he turned off the bedrock along the river and stepped onto the mat of pine needle duff and instantly returned to a full gallop.

Tyon radiated heat like an oven. Streamers of frothing saliva flew from his lips and landed with a splat on Shell-en's leggings. Nostrils flared wide, his huge lungs were pumping like a blacksmith's bellows. Perspiration glistened on his flanks and neck, raining off him when he landed hard. He showed no signs of slowing his pace. Shell-en was amazed at his stamina; a horse half his age would have difficulty maintaining this speed.

She tried to speak with him, but he was unresponsive, almost as though he was preoccupied and couldn't hear her. She had no idea where they were, having never been this far from home in this direction. The foothills were gradually left behind as the terrain became steeper, and they began their ascent into the mountains.

Shell-en's butt hurt, her hands were cramped, her legs ached from holding on, and she didn't even want to think about the tangle that must have become of her hair. She tried again to speak with Tyon, but there was no response as he galloped on at a feverish pace.

Deciduous trees gave way to conifers in an alpine environment. The ground became rocky, and Shell-en willed Tyon to slow down and speak to her. At long last, he acknowledged her by slowing down, but only because the terrain was unstable and steep, requiring closer attention to his footing.

"Tyon, talk to me!" Shell-en demanded. "Where are you taking me? We've lost them way the hell back there! We can stop now."

No, Shell-en, I cannot stop. I must complete what we've started.

"Please don't talk to me in riddles, Tyon. We are all alone. No one is going to catch us. You can stop!"

No! If I stop or fully return into my body, even to converse with you, I risk not being able to deliver you to where I must. We have to keep going.

"Going where? You're frightening me! What are you doing? What are you talking about?"

I'm taking you home, Shel.

Having said that, his spirit came partially back into his body.

"Home? Home is way over a dozen leagues in the opposite direction!"

The instant he came in, Shell-en's empathic self felt a searing pain in her chest.

"Tyon! Stop! Stop this instant! You're killing yourself!" she screamed at him.

I can't stop. My task is not yet complete.

He became silent and unresponsive again. As soon as he did, the pain Shell-en was feeling abated, but it left her in tears.

Tyon climbed steadily higher up into the mountains. At times, he traveled on remnants of what must have at one time long, long ago been a trail or road. Now, however, when it was even discernible, it was little more than an overgrown track or game trail. They crossed small creeks and traversed around rockslides, traveling farther away from civilization and up into the mountains.

The temperature was dropping as thick, dark, and ominous thunderheads were building above them. Gusts of wind pelted her with dust and sand. Lightning flashed in the jagged mountain peaks before them, and the sound of rolling thunder reached her ears as it echoed in the deep canyon off to her right.

The thick cloud cover obscured the sun. When it occasionally broke through, it cast the long shadows of early evening from the gnarled junipers that stood stoically as they passed by. An occasional raindrop struck Shell-en in the face; the chill only heightened her growing sense of terror. Had she been a fool to trust her life to this horse? What had gotten into him? Was he crazy?

Shell-en's body had long since stopped aching; she was numb from head to toe. She had been atop Tyon most of the day, and now as the sun neared the horizon, all she could see before her was what appeared to be a seemingly vertical expanse of rock, whose upper reaches were swallowed in the clouds.

In near exhaustion, she wondered out loud to herself, "Where are we going?"

To her surprise, Tyon answered her. His voice in her head sounded a long way off and faint.

Shell-en, I know you don't want to hear this, but I'm dying. We haven't much time, so listen closely. I will tell you what I am able to.

"Tyon! No!" Shell-en screamed in pain at his words.

Please, Shel, let me finish. These mountains are where I was born and lived in the years prior to coming to you. The path we have followed was made by the Ancients, as were the caves in the cliff face up ahead. When I am gone, you must seek shelter inside them. You will find the answers to your questions inside there. My life's assignment is completed. I have delivered you safely to the doorway of your future. The next step you must take on your own.

"Tyon, you can't leave me here alone!" Shell-en screamed in desperation.

My love, leave you I must. I have no other choice. I am old and spent. I have lived my entire life for what I had to do today. It is my gift to you. As for being alone, well, perhaps for a time, you will be. But trust me one last time. I assure you, it will not be for long.

The tears were pouring out of Shell-en as she screamed through her sobs, "You're speaking in riddles! You know more than you are telling me! I love you! What is going on? I must know! Tell me!"

The path rounded a rocky outcropping, and the two emerged onto a flat bench. At the head of the level area, a clear water spring emerged from a fracture in the rocks and flowed into a small pool. Lightning flashed dangerously close by, followed immediately by a deafening, thunderous roar.

A windblown wave of icy cold raindrops pelted Shell-en's exposed cheeks. She sought a temporary refuge from the onslaught by snuggling her face against Tyon's neck. The smell of overheated horse filled her nostrils, but his warmth pulled the stinging cold from her face.

Tyon walked to the pool and lowered his head to drink of the crystal clear water.

We have arrived at last, Shel. You can dismount now, he spoke into her troubled thoughts.

Shell-en slid off his back and fell to the ground, dragging her blanket and saddlebags along with her. Her tortured legs refused to support her weight. Knees buckling, she staggered backward and collapsed onto her hands and knees into the wet shortgrass. Crawling to a nearby boulder, she agonizingly pulled herself to her feet and turned around to face her beloved stallion.

She gasped at the sight. His hooves were cut, chipped, and horribly torn. Blood flowed freely from dozens of lacerations on his forelocks and legs. He looked old, so very old, and exhausted.

He had nearly drained the small pool of water when Shell-en hobbled over to him. Eyes filled with tears, she reached out to touch his neck and comfort her friend. The instant she laid her hand on him, a searing pain exploded in her chest.

"Argh!" she screamed and broke the contact as both hands involuntarily gripped her heart. The pain subsided.

Tyon raised his head and looked at her; she could see the incredible pain in his eyes.

Ahhhhh, he said with a sigh of pleasure. I remember the sweet, cool water of this spring. It feels good to be here once again after all these years.

"Tyon, you're dying," Shell-en spewed out through her sobs.

That's not something I fear, Shell-en. Animals have an understanding of life and death that your species has forgotten. Don't be afraid of what is happening. I am merely reverting back to my natural state as a being of energy. My sojourn in the physical realm as a horse is complete. I will miss the sensation of your touch, your voice, and our adventures. I have evolved as a result of our time together, and I return to the collective consciousness a wiser being. As you awaken, you will understand more of what I am saying. And somewhere in the vastness of creation, we will meet again.

Shell-en was gripped with fear and apprehension. She was struggling to accept what Tyon was saying as her world crumbled around her, and yet she was being forced to expand at the same time. Some part of her understood his words, but the fear of losing her only real friend was exposing her soul like an open wound to salt.

With fists clenched, standing rigidly in place beside her friend, she screamed at the universe, "Why is this happening!"

She had no life experiences to help her cope with what was occurring and felt anger toward and betrayed by the Goddess. Did her entreaty of earlier today have so much power as to destroy her entire world? She cursed CR for her council.

A ray of light from the setting sun broke through the cloud cover on the horizon and, for a moment, bathed Tyon and Shell-en in its amber-peach glow.

Tyon looked into Shell-en's eyes.

Goodbye, my friend. I love you, he thought.

"I love you, Tyon," she managed to say.

He turned to face directly into the setting sun.

Shell-en, I leave you with these last words. If ever you need me, call on me by my spirit-given name. I am Eschalizar.

He looked directly into the sun. For a moment, his whole body became as rigid as a statue. Even through her tears, she distinctly saw his spirit shimmer and glow around his body for a brief instant and then fluidly slide out the top of his head like ripples of heat bending the light as it rose from a hot surface.

Tyon's knees buckled, and then his massive body slowly melted as it collapsed to the ground with a soft thud. His spirit hovered in place for a moment and then, as if pulled by the last, fleeting ray of sunlight, was gone.

The silence of the moment felt like eternity. Nothing moved. It was as though the world had exhaled and forgotten to take another breath. It had all happened so fast.

Emanating from the depths of her soul, the silence was broken as Shell-en's anguish erupted into a scream.

"Noooooooo!"

Shell-en's cry was swallowed by a gust of wind that threatened to blow her off her feet. She dropped to her fallen friend's side. His open eyes were devoid of the spark of life that she knew to be him. He really was gone, and for the first time in her entire life, she was utterly alone.

Instinctively, she probed for any hint of his thoughts with her mind, but there was nothing—no sensation or feeling of any kind. Her voice was the only one inside her head.

Frozen in place, she lay hunched over Tyon's body. Terror began to take hold of her. She felt it creeping into her consciousness, pushing her life aside as it relentlessly advanced. Emotionally and physically drained, she could not—would not—fight it and sensed her own life force ebbing. Shel wanted to follow Tyon—no struggle, no resistance, and no argument to remain, only willing consent.

As if on cue—the universe was not about to let Shell-en go this easily—a bolt of lightning struck so close by, the discharge of electricity stood her hair on end. The concussion knocked her on her butt and slammed her back into her body. Survival instincts she didn't know she had took over. She had to run for shelter.

Huge, half-frozen slush balls began to pelt her as if to say, "Wake up! Get out of here!" The wind howled, threatening to blow her off the exposed mountainside. She quickly grabbed her saddle blanket and bags from the ground beside Tyon's lifeless corpse, looked around in the fading light for a path, and started running.

Another lightning bolt lit up the trail as she ran as hard as she could toward the cliff face. A gust of wind hit her full in the back, and she felt as though she was flying up the path.

In the half-light, Shell-en spotted two caves in the cliff face. She chose the one closest to her and raced inside just as the sky opened up in an unbridled torrent of slush and hailstones. A lightning bolt struck at the entrance, illuminating the interior of the cave. In that instant, her heightened perceptions surveyed her surroundings.

The cave extended deep into the mountain beyond the reach of the available light. The smooth walls were covered in pictures and inscriptions. The floor, though dirty, appeared flat and polished. Her eyes began to adjust to the dim light, enough so that she could barely discern there were no obstacles in her immediate path. With outstretched arms for balance, she proceeded farther in, away from the howling storm.

Within a short distance, Shell-en was soon in utter darkness. A wave of anxiety rippled through her, sending a chill down her spine. The darkness disoriented her, and a wave of vertigo froze her in her tracks. With nothing save the floor for reference, she sat down and caught her breath. After a time, she draped her saddlebags over her shoulder and began to crawl, pushing the horse blanket ahead of her. Time and distance lost all meaning in the pervasive darkness.

Eventually, her hands touched upon a cold stone step, so she proceeded on up a count of ten to a landing, then five more steps to another short landing and then a single step up, taller than the others. This one was narrow in width with its far side dropping off a hand's length to a bed of sand.

Shell-en crawled into the soft sand, a welcome relief to her tormented hands and knees. Within the length of her body, she bumped into a large smooth spherical object directly in her path. She felt it with her hands to see what it was. Aside from its shape, it held no conceivable reference other than that for some strange reason, she felt a moment of security.

Emotionally exhausted and in shock, she curled up into a fetal position and stayed put. Her normally heightened sensitivities were overloaded with grief, and she stared wide-eyed like a zombie into the darkness that had swallowed her.

The faint but distinct sound of thunder echoed in the depths of the cave and pulled her back into the moment. Shell-en took a few deep breaths, then spread the saddle blanket out before her in the sand. Falling over onto it, she pulled her cloak tightly around her body and then allowed the first wave of emotion to rise to the surface.

Once the floodgate was opened, there was no stopping the river of tears. Wave upon wave of grief poured from the depths of her soul. Pain flowed so intensely, the stress of her sobbing caused her nose to begin bleeding. With her face buried in her hands, her fingers were soon wet.

Wracked by a wave of violent coughing, she reached out and steadied herself with her tear-, mucus-, and blood-soaked hand upon the smooth object at her side. After a time, she eventually fell into a deep, exhausted sleep. Here she remained through the night and well into the next morning.

* * *

It was a good thing that she slept like the dead, for had she seen what was happening behind her, the additional stress might have made it a reality. Shortly before awakening, she had a dream, a vivid and most confusing dream, in which she viewed herself from a distance. She saw her huddled body, sobbing uncontrollably. She saw her tears, her runny nose, and a trickle of blood fall onto her hands. The drops of blood turned into a strange, reptilian-shaped key, which she then inserted into the great sphere before her. She abruptly woke up.

Had Shell-en had the opportunity to read the inscriptions on the cave walls, she would have understood. She would have known that her blood was very special, for it contained a genetic sequence possessed only by a select few. The text would have explained the cyclical occurrence of the solar flares that had caused a mutation in Shell-en as a developing embryo that, in essence, switched on her heightened empathic and telepathic abilities. The only outward appearance of it was her emerald-green eyes.

The ancient writings would also have described how an advanced race of beings from a distant star system had come to this planet and existed for millennia as dragons and how their fate ultimately became entwined with the hu-mon native stock.

In Shell-en's era, dragons were but an unsubstantiated myth; hence, she knew nothing about what was happening. She was about to learn.

Upon waking from the most unusual dream, Shell-en found herself lying on her horse blanket in total darkness. The blanket smelled strongly of Tyon, and in the darkness, she could hear long, slow breathing. Could everything that had happened been just a nightmare, and her beloved stallion was standing, as usual, a short distance away, keeping a silent vigil over her as she slept?

Shell-en felt a sense of relief and softly spoke, saying, "Tyon, are you there?"

She reached out with her mind to connect with his thoughts. They were nowhere to be found. How strange. She was certain she could hear his breathing. Why would he not respond to her?

She strained her eyes against the darkness, trying to see. A wave of fear and apprehension flushed over her. She fought it back down. She would not succumb to this and mentally pushed it aside.

"Tyon, is that you?"

Her mind heard no thought she recognized. Then a wave of nausea hit her. Her stomach growled, and she felt ravenously hungry.

"Okay," she acknowledged.

She was hungry; it had been nearly a full day since she had eaten. But this desperate feeling was unlike any hunger she had ever experienced. She willed herself to let the feeling go away.

Still, she heard breathing. Something was wrong. Trying not to panic, she resisted focusing on the events of yesterday that she desperately wanted to be an illusion. Convinced she must still be dreaming, she deliberately willed herself to wake up.

Feeling another wave of intense hunger, she thought, What is happening to me?

Gingerly, she extended her hand out to the edge of the blanket. "Sand, only sand" went through her mind as it sifted between her fingers. Memories of where she was crept in, overriding her denial.

Reaching behind her back with one hand, she felt a smooth, slightly curved surface. Following it upward several hands' width, it abruptly ended in a jagged, moist edge. This didn't fit with the images of last night either and only served to reinforce that perhaps she was somehow still dreaming.

She retracted her hand, reached down, and pinched the inside of her thigh.

"Ouch! That hurt!" she uttered.

Frightfully confused, she wondered, What is real?

The total darkness only exacerbated her disorientation. If she was awake and the events of yesterday really happened, then Tyon was dead! If that was so, then what belonged to that breathing she heard a short distance away?

Her thoughts began to clear, and she sensed another presence nearby and in her head! Why was she so hungry?

She wasn't hungry! That feeling was not her own! Fear gripped her. That something she sensed was hungry. Fear turned into terror. She was about to be eaten!

Shell-en's heart leaped into her throat, adrenaline surged through her, and she flew to her feet. Her cramped legs were unsteady. She stepped on the corner of her cloak, lost what little balance she had, and fell over backward into the sand.

It was then that her eyes came into focus, and not five paces away, she saw a pair of golden-green eyes staring at her.

"Eeeeekk!" she shrieked.

The eyes blinked. They were the size of small apples and had vertically slit pupils.

The eyes advanced on her position. Shell-en scooted backward in the sand. Her hands found the stone rim she remembered from the previous night. Rolling on her side, she fell over the ledge onto the floor below.

The eyes came closer. The breathing was long and slow, totally unlike her own, which by now was so fast her heart and lungs were about to burst from her chest.

Shell-en scooted backward across the floor, pushing with her feet and walking on her hands. She smacked the back of her head into the unseen cave wall. She was cornered!

"Get away from me!" Shell-en screamed and staggered to her feet.

Sensing imminent death in the jaws of some unknown monster, self-preservation kicked in, and she vowed to go down with a fight. Reaching for the wide belt strap of her purse that still hung over her left shoulder and across her chest, her hand found the hilt of the four-inch dagger she always carried. Pulling it from its scabbard, she positioned herself for the fight of her life.

Even the most adept telepaths did not hear everything exactly as it was thought. Messages could come across more as impressions than actual words. Add fear to the mix, and whole intentions could be lost or confused in the translation.

The thing that Shell-en was imagining in her mind was desperately trying to communicate with her. It knew her name. In fact, it knew more about Shell-en than she was consciously aware of herself. It was her blood that had brought it back to life. It knew who it was. It had a name: Ren-ishawl of the Talox dragon lineage.

His memories were intact up to the time when, as a developing embryo, he matured and entered into stasis. How long he had been in stasis, he had no idea. He was, however, terribly confused about a few things: Why were there no attendants around to facilitate the completion of the bonding transformation with his keeper, Shell-en? Why did his keeper appear to be terrified of him? Why did the genetic memories he had received from her blood lack all mention of dragon keeping?

Ren-ishawl knew that he needed to bond with her so that she would become as much a part of him as he already was of her. He also desperately needed to eat! Ren-ishawl was becoming aware that Shell-en knew nothing whatsoever about him, so he tried his best to convey his thoughts to her. He focused carefully.

Shell-en, I must bond with you. Shell-en, I must eat.

What Shell-en felt through her terror was translated into the impression that this monster wanted to mate with her, then eat her! Her angst exploded into words.

"Oh, great, a horny, hungry monster!"

Ren-ishawl interpreted this as perhaps she was beginning to understand. After all, he did have horns and was definitely hungry.

CR had taught Shell-en a measure of self-defense. She knew it would be easier if the aggressor made the first move, so she yelled, "Come on, monster!"

Ren-ishawl understood this, and even though there was anger and fear projected with the invitation, he knew he had to make physical contact with her. He shuffled forward.

Soft, immature chest scales placed a half-day-old dragon in a very vulnerable position. Little did Shell-en know that a four-inch dagger, if targeted in the right spot, could inflict a fatal wound to her imagined aggressor.

Ren-ishawl could see Shell-en perfectly in the dark, because his dragon vision extended into the infrared spectrum, so he could see heat, an adaptation and essential element for night hunting. Shell-en was inviting him closer, but her posture sure seemed aggressive. He hesitated a moment just beyond her reach and extended his left clawed hand toward her, leaving his exposed chest unprotected.

Shell-en couldn't see his hand but sensed movement and, as a reflex powered by exploding tension, lashed out with her dagger. Her lunge was more of a sweeping flail, and her knife blade contacted something solid.

That something was the three-inch-long claw of Ren-ishawl's middle finger. The blade slid down the length of the claw and took a bite of his soft cuticle at its base.

"Youch!" he screamed in a wail that echoed and reverberated off the cave walls.

"Aha! Gotcha!" Shell-en yelled and, for a moment, felt a measure of satisfaction at her boldness.

The pleasure was fleeting, for in the next moment, she felt guilt. She had never deliberately injured anything larger than a bug. She couldn't even bring herself to kill something as dumb as the fish she used to catch with her father.

"Yeow! Argh! Ouch!" Ren-ishawl cried as he hopped around, holding his injured finger, wailing like a baby.

What is this thing? Shell-en wondered.

The suspense was about to end in a way that she could never have imagined.

Ren-ishawl retracted his hand and was shaking it, thinking and wondering, Why did my keeper hurt me?

This was the first pain he had ever known. It was worse than the ever-growing hunger in his stomach.

Shell-en's wonder was cut short when she felt warm droplets of moisture land on her face. There was a moment of stillness, and then emanating from the drops of blood, a searing fire erupted on her skin. She touched her cheek with the back of her hand.

Shell-en caught her breath, as the fiery sensation sent her swooning. It felt as though it was racing through every cell in her body, which it actually was doing, connecting, bonding, and transforming as it went. The catalytic reaction was occurring at an incredible speed.

Strange images came into her consciousness like waves, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Images of people, dragons, ceremonies, celebrations, and flying sped through her. The speed of the images increased until it was just a continuous flow of light building in intensity until it exploded in her mind, and she passed out and slumped to the cave floor.

Ren-ishawl sat back on his haunches a short distance away, nursing his injured finger. Shell-en's crumpled, unconscious body lay there before him, motionless save for an occasional involuntary twitch. He watched and waited, hoping she would survive the transformation that was altering every cell in her body.

Ren-ishawl's hunger was increasing, and he was growing weaker as his time was running out.