Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 647
Lavin cleared his throat. "To whom am I to address
myself?"
He was looking at the rider in the lead when he said this,
and so it took him a moment to notice the smallest of the
animals rising to its hind feet. Lavin turned his attention to it,
and gasped.
Standing, the beast had become human--or nearly so. Its
mobile joints accommodated both the running posture of a cat
and the upright stance of a man. It was difficult to tell gender,
but he would have sworn the thing had breasts. Cascades of
white hair flowed past its shoulders. It stood easily, as if born
to do so, and now he saw it wore a narrow leather sword belt
with an epee and some daggers sheathed there.
It blinked its huge eyes at him, and said in a woman’s
voice, "Address yourself to this one."
Vertigo and exhaustion combined to make the next
events seem more like a dream than real. Lavin had a parlay
table and chairs brought; the white Wind twitched its tail aside
and sat down opposite him. It smelled faintly of heather and
fur. The hands it laid on the table top had solid, calloused
heels, and the fingers seemed naturally clenched. It had to
splay them in a stretch to make them limber.
"Why have you come?" asked Lavin. Everything he said
seemed obtuse; he was off-balance and knew it, but there was
nothing he could do about that.
"We have come to command," said the Wind. Lavin’s
heart sank.
"We seek the pathology that calls itself Armiger. You
will assist us in this."
Armiger is with the queen. "I don’t see how we can--"
"Your army will march where we direct. We will