Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 710
Of course, Jordan should have remembered that Axel
Chan could see in the dark as well as Calandria had.
The cat seemed to be keeping a discreet distance, so
Jordan said, "Tell me all about it--where you've been, what
you've done. Then I'll tell you what’s happened to me."
Axel laughed. "Best offer I've had all day."
The White Wind crept through the forest, low to the
ground, and listened as Axel told his tale. She remembered
being Calandria May now--remembered Axel, his passions and
follies, the lopsided grin and strong hands. She had rushed to
embrace him the instant she saw him, and he had not
recognized her.
She wept as she padded along, regretting everything. Her
life had been so sweet, and she had never known.
The others were hanging back on her instructions. She
could not disobey her new masters, but neither did she have to
obey them mindlessly. She knew, if they did not, that Axel
posed no threat to Ventus. Jordan, though... She was not so
sure about him.
She wanted to turn and run, and run all night through the
woods until she could sleep the sleep of exhaustion and forget.
Instead, the White Wind held her pace next to the humans, and
listened with growing wonder to the tales of the Desert Voice,
and of thalience, and of Earth.
Calloused hands reached down to help Galas up the last
few steps. She could only nod her gratitude to the dark-robed
men who stood under torchlight on the broad ledge that fronted
the Titans' Gate monastery.
The moment she was safely on her feet, the whole crowd
of thirty or so men knelt as one. "Your highness," said the