Aish of a Grey Lion: A Storm-Dance Short Story (part 2 of 2)
“Aish of a grey lion,” he said. “Where are your claws?” They stared at each other, Niobe sick to her stomach. He had done it. He had gone out into the eseteij and cried out for change. Why now? No, she knew why. Either the Teeshlawat Fyareng had survived or one of his followers continued in his name. Which didn’t matter. They were recruiting again, both children and from the old ranks of child-soldiers. Even if she rescued the child,