Free Wizard's Heir (A Bard Without a Star, Book 1) by Michael A. Hooten Page A

sensed was staring at him.
    He backed up with a snort. The
sow radiated amusement at his confusion, and he heard very clearly in his mind,
“The body you wear sits a bit uncomfortably, I take it?”
    “What do you mean?” he asked.
    “I mean, you are not naturally
a boar.”
    “Of course I am,” Gwydion said
irritably. “Why would you say such a thing?”
    “Because you have the wrong
smell about you,” the sow said. “You were also thinking too deeply to notice
my presence, which a true boar never does. And your accent is odd.” She
cocked her head to the side. “Shall I continue?”
    “Are all boars so sarcastic?”
Gwydion asked.
    “To some extent, I suppose,”
she said. “My name is Ruchalia.”
    “I am Gwydion.” He paused. “Do
we sniff each other, or rub noses or something?”
    “Are you a dog in your natural
form?” Ruchalia asked.
    “No, but I have been a wolf
recently.”
    “Really? I’ve been a dog, but
never a wolf. I’ve always wondered how similar they are.”
    “You shapeshift?”
    “You seem surprised,” Ruchalia
said. “You must be human in your natural form.”
    “How did you know?” Gwydion
asked.
    “Because humans always assume
that they are the only sentient beings in the worlds.”
    Gwydion bowed his head. “You
speak truth, my lady.”
    Ruchalia squealed in laughter.
“You’re so cute! I do think I’d like to spend some time with you, just to see
what you might do next.”
    “I’m not sure,” Gwydion said
with a frown.
    “You don’t trust me?”
    “I don’t know you,”
Gwydion answered. “We’ve barely met, and already you’ve altered my perceptions
of how the world works. How much worse will it be if I spend more time with
you?”
    She nodded sagely. “That’s
true. It could be that you will want to stay here with me forever.”
    Gwydion heard the humor in her
voice, but his heart still ached. He said, “I would rather not take that
chance, my lady.”
    The smile in her voice
disappeared, but sympathy remained. “You’re new to shapeshifting, aren’t you?”
    Gwydion said nothing, but
started to trot away from her.
    “I’m sorry,” she said, catching
up to him. “I didn’t mean to insult you, truly I didn’t. It’s just that it’s
been ages since I met a fresh shapeshifter, and never one as young as you. Did
you figure it out on your own?”
    Gwydion said nothing, but
continued trotting. He smelled water ahead, and he realized he was thirsty.
    “No of course not,” Ruchalia
said to his silence. “I’ve only known of a few natural shapeshifters, and they
mostly lost themselves after a change or two. Oh, you could tell that their
shape wasn’t natural, but you could also tell that they no longer knew which
shape was true to them. So you have a teacher, or a guide.”
    They had come to the banks of a
pond. Gwydion could smell the scum around the edges, and it surprised him that
it aroused hunger in him. He ignored it, though, and waded into the water
until he could drink deeply without bending too much. Ruchalia was still
talking to him, trying to figure out if she knew his teacher, but the names she
said were strange, and he could tell that many of them were not human.
    “But I should concentrate on
the humans I know, shouldn’t I?” she said just then. “Let’s see, there are
only a few that really stick in my memory, like Taliesin and Math—”
    Gwydion choked on his drink. “Taliesin
the bard?” he sputtered. “And Math, son of Mathonwy?”
    “I knew Taliesin long before he
became a bard,” Ruchalia said. “And Math used to come to my bower every summer
for years. Do you know them?”
    “I only know Taliesin by legend
and song,” Gwydion said. “But Math is my uncle. He’s the one who transformed
me and sent me here.”
    “Did he now?” Ruchalia said. “I
wonder if he meant for us to meet. Last time I saw him, he spoke to me about
taking on the lordship of his land.”
    “Really? What was he like?”
    Ruchalia