Huan staggered down the street, warmth bubbling into his limbs. He caught himself on a handy wall, sniffed the air, and wrinkled his nose. Human sweat, refuse, and, simmering underneath both, sour fear all assaulted his nose. Huan scowled. He’d had those people in front of the church ready to do his bidding, but Dwayne’s speech had cut the mob’s anger off at the knees. By the time the Wesen was done, even the huge laborer had been nodding along, his suspicion of foreigners subsumed with empathy, and so shame and hope had overwhelmed fear and anger. It wouldn’t last though. When hope was dashed and shame faded, the mob’s anger would return.
Pushing away from the wall, Huan continued down the street, cursing the fact that there were only humans here, not moving corpses and baneful witches. Grunting, he kicked the street and bit back a yowl. He’d stubbed his toe.
His nostrils flared. They got in my way. If Sir Marcus and Mei hadn’t interfered, Huan would have found Liraya and wrested that title from her by now. Why am I even here?
Weeks ago, it had made sense to follow Lord Kalan and his merry band of mages into Soura where Huan had thought the ShengXiao guard couldn’t follow, but they’d had found him anyway, and worse, even after hunting dragons, dueling magically animated suits of armor, and fighting undead thugs, he still had to follow the law. Sure, he had a new sword to show for it, but that wasn’t enough.
How did you even get here? The lack of hostility in Tiger’s question stopped Huan cold. For once, the beast was genuinely curious.
Huan closed his eyes. I had to run away because of you.
But you were free in Anders. Why are you here?
Because of… Huan’s skin prickled. Mei.
If it weren’t for his sister, he would have just brushed Sir Marcus off. Hell, the knight wouldn’t have even made it that far without his sister’s tracking skills. Back in Yumma, Mei had let him fall alone into that hole and left him with a moody Wesen and a crazy Vanurian, and in Anders, it was Mei who’d insisted that they go with Lord Kalan on his quest for idiotic magical mumbo jumbo.
Tiger’s voice rumbled. She doesn’t want to be free. She doesn’t want you to be free.
My own sister… Huan pushed the thought away and sniffed the air again, prompting the beast to sift through the jumble of scents. When the wind picked up, the scents of rotted flesh, fresh turned earth, and the sweet tang of magic wafted by. Huan smiled and turned towards its source.
A hand landed on his shoulder. “What are you doing out here?”
With a snarl, Huan whirled around and lashed out with his foot, but his assailant snatched his foot out of the air and pushed him to the ground. Swallowing a yelp, Huan flipped back ontoto his feet and dropped into a stance, but his assailant hit Huan with two right jabs, then pulled the dazed thief into an arm lock.
Huan elbowed his assailant in the stomach and hit armor. “Ow!”
“Huan.” Sir Marcus’s voice was slow, patient. “I was asking politely. Do you want me to be rougher with you?”
Huan tried to pull Sir Marcus’s arm away, but the knight’s grip only tightened.
“Well? Will you behave?”
Huan stopped struggling and nodded.
“Good.” Sir Marcus released Huan, who gasped and coughed.
How had he done that with just one arm? “I’m not going back to the barracks,” Huan said.
Sir Marcus furrowed his eyebrows. “Why not?”
“You can’t- what?”
“Why not?”
Huan stepped back. “I… I don’t belong there. I’m a thief and a scoundrel and a cheat. This mask you see? I stole it.”
Sir Marcus shook his head. “That doesn’t matter here. Those crimes are against Tuqu.”
Huan’s eyes caught on Sir Marcus’s emblem. “I won’t swear allegiance to your queen.”
Sir Marcus kept his hand open and by his side. “You aren’t sworn to defend the queen or Soura. You’re sworn to defend Lord Kalan.”
Huan scoffed. “To what end?”
“Irrelevant. He’s your sponsor.”
“So just because of that, I can’t do what I want?”
Sir Marcus’s brow furrowed again. “What do you want to do?”
Huan spread his hands wide. “I want to be free. I want to do whatever I want!”
Sir Marcus sighed. “Are you in bondage to Lord Kalan?”
“What?”
“Are you his slave?”
“No, but…”
“So you can leave whenever you want, yes?”
“I can, but I’d get deported.”
Sir Marcus’s brown eyes bored into Huan. “So you don’t want to suffer the consequences for anything, is that right?”
Huan’s cheeks burned. “No, I… I…”
Sir Marcus took a deep breath then pointed at a nearby tavern, a quieter one than the one Huan had left. “I need a drink and you need a story.”
Admaeus Speaks 
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