A long, drawn out screech ripped through the village. In the shocked silence after the transfer of Alpha responsibilities, the sound seemed to bounce off of the shelters and echo back to them, until the pack was soaked with it.
“They come,” the sentry announced, paling farther. Adda worried, briefly, that he might collapse for lack of blood flow.
The pack stirred restlessly, attention shifting between the Alpha...or the old Alpha…and Scet. In her mind, there was also an uncomfortable squirming.
This is no regular incursion. My sister comes. You must flee.
I can't. Not without Scet.
And that, she realized, had been the Alpha's plan. Scet was now bound by honor to this pack, to their protection and well-being. A lesser Shifter might have refused responsibility, handed the spear back to the Alpha, forcefully if need be, but Scet was not a lesser Shifter. He was the epitome of what was right and honorable, and the Alpha had known it.
A second screech sounded, much closer than the first, and to the right of camp. It was quite possible that they were surrounded already. In fact, Adda was certain they were, she had a sense for the things out there that she had never possessed before. She began to worry that taking to the shadows might have done more damage than she had thought.
Now, the pack stared at the Alpha, rapt and tense, waiting for a command. But the contrary man said nothing, just stood silently, watching Scet and waiting.
“How many? And which direction.”
Scet's indecision did not last long. His voice rang with authority, and even Adda had to admire the way the pack switched their focus.
“At least twenty creatures crawling through the brush to the west. I cannot account for the other directions.” The sentry glanced pointedly to where the second screech had emanated.
“Are there not sentries that direction, as well?” Scet glared at the old Alpha, his eyes narrowed. He, too, saw the trap for what it was. The man had pressed Scet into a path of fate he had had no interest in following. Just how determined was he to see his prophecy through?
“There were.”
A cryptic reply, but Adda got the gist easily enough. Since the other sentries had not returned, they had to fear the worst, that they were not able to return.
She could sit no longer, the churning of her stomach spread nervous tension through her limbs. The urge to run was nearly overwhelming.
Do it Adda. I can shelter you from their notice briefly. But if you wait until my sister finds us, I won't be able to help you.
Adda struggled with her fear, which desperately wanted her to obey. Immediate safety over the long term danger was the name of survival in this game. Except, she was not a mindless creature. Without Scet, she could last no longer than the next nightfall...or whenever she next lost consciousness. There was no doubt in her mind that she would not win the next battle of wills with Nex. She needed Scet's help. Unfortunately for her, he was now tied to this pack, and determined, if she read the look on his face correctly, to save it.
“It is worse,” the sentry insisted, pulling her back to the present. “Not just creatures of the ground, a Dragon, too, has succumbed to the curse; he carries a human, a female.”
The Shifters around her stood and milled about each other, energy built in the air. They were ready to change, to battle whatever threat lay ahead. A pack of trained warriors.
What good they thought they were going to do with their spears, Adda wasn't sure. She lived in that cave with turned Shifters for long enough to know that a simple spear wound was not going to slow them down much.
Scet scanned the remains of the ceremony. Adda allowed her gaze to follow along with his, trying to get a sense of what he saw. It was not a large pack that stood before him. Mostly warriors, but it included several children. She guessed that, before the advent of a simpler life—when a pack's main concern might be survival within the forest—such a structure and size might be common. Every adult, and two or three that looked to be a year or more short of adulthood, held a spear, or looked as though they could. Even the women, she noted, prepared for battle, Kiskan foremost among them, a wild gleam of anticipation in her eye.
Crazy woman.
Determination, not fear, could be found on every single Shifter's face. A pack that was truly united, but could Scet lead them?
“The best route, for now, to preserve the most lives, would be escape,” Scet announced. He did not look to the elder once-Alpha for confirmation, did not look at him at all, actually, a sign of his fury with the man. “I know not your names, or even how many of you there are, but I will do everything I can to keep this pack alive so I can learn them.”
He pointed to a tall warrior, lanky, but with a firmness of limb that belied strength and speed. He stood closest to the central fire, gripping his spear tight enough that his knuckles became white little hills. “Gather the most vulnerable, those unable to fight. Get them away from here, in whatever form you must. Take ten warriors with you, I think you can choose wisely, but decide fast, the rest of us will be a distraction for your escape. We will join you when we can...if we survive.” He looked at the spear in his hands. “These might not be the most effective weapons against the creatures, have you nothing of blades? Something that might remove the head from the body?”
“The cave,” her own voice calling out surprised her. She hadn't intended to speak, but the image of the cave and its small pile of weapons stolen from the human women had entered her thoughts with the first string of hope since the sentry had arrived. There were only three, but it was enough, perhaps, to make a difference if they were placed in the right hands. The cave itself might provide some protection, as well, narrow the range of attack so that the pack was not surrounded. One entrance point meant only one creature to deal with at a time.
Her announcement surprised a few others, as well. It seemed she was practically forgotten, an unimportant aspect of the surroundings, or unwanted. Either way, it was not friendly gazes that turned her direction, especially that of the old Alpha. In fact, his eyes narrowed dangerously.
“The cave has three Dragon blades, taken from the human camp we found, I think.”
There. To hells with the old Alpha. Now his little secret was out. He was less than impressed, but be damned if she was going to die for his plotting. Scet needed blades, the only way any of them would survive was with some sort of advantage.
She could feel Scet's attention turn to her before she returned her gaze to him, so aware had she become of the man. He eyed her with a hint of suspicion, reminding her that while he knew about Nex, sort of, she hadn't confessed about her nightly travels. Nor did she wish to. She was still mulling over them herself. It had been an unwise venture and she worried that Nex had nudged her thoughts until she decided for it. If so, she had a great deal to be concerned about. How many of her decisions were being influenced without her knowing? Would she be able to tell her own choices from those Nex wished? More than ever, she had the sense that time was running out and she needed to find the solution to her troubles before she lost what was left of herself.
“Can you find the blades? And the cave? Before you leave with the rest?” Scet demanded. This was not gentle, caressing Scet. This was a commander, an Alpha. He took so quickly to leadership Adda had to reconsider that the Alpha had been right in his assumptions...if not his actions.
Yes!
“No,” she shook her head. “I will not leave you.”
Scet growled, truly growled at her, his voice amplified a little by the beginnings of the shift to his animal form that she could see rippling across his skin. Despite his composed appearance, he was frightened.
She firmed her resolve. He might be an Alpha, of all of two minutes, but he was not her Alpha. That man was miles and miles away, safely ensconced in a little refugee village camp. She hoped. It occurred to her, for the first time, that Bakkus might have done more damage to her people than simply luring her away for Quatori fodder. It wasn't like she had time to discuss the state of things with Lisrith, either, a fact she was regretting more and more. What if she never saw her sister again? What if she never saw any of them again? Lis had risked her life, risked everything for her, and she hadn't even thanked her.
That was why she had to stay with Scet. She was going to survive, her soul intact, and once she was rid of Nex, she was going to go home. She lifted her gaze, meeting Scet's. A defiance. A challenge.
He ran a hand through his hair. Gleams of sunlight caught on the various shades of brown and gray as it tumbled back around his face.
“Fine. Those of you escaping, go now as fast and far as you can. Quickly, and for the love of the Six, quietly. Everyone else, fall back to the cave. We will hold a defense there and perhaps it will be enough of a distraction to allow the others passage. At any rate, we will be able to fight without being surrounded.”
A mournful howl punctuated the last of his words and several of the Shifters launched into action. The lanky man Scet had chosen had somehow made his warrior selection known. Adda counted nine men and Kiskan surrounding a small group of children, one very pregnant woman and a few elders. Then, with little sound, they shifted and disappeared into the underbrush, so silently that, if she hadn't seen them slip away, she would question if they had been there at all.
The rest of the pack, though, did not jump to orders. They stood, watching their new leader with expectant faces.
“Move,” Scet growled, but the sound was muted now, hardly above a whisper. The enemy was closing in, and silence was key in avoiding them.
“They cannot,” the old Alpha interjected. “The cave and its location are a secret passed down to the Alpha only.” He glared at Adda pointedly. “To avoid this very situation. The lore must survive at all costs, even that of this pack. We cannot use the cave, or give away where it is.”
“Then perhaps you should have thought through your gift a little more thoroughly,” Scet hefted the spear meaningfully. “I am not a pawn for your prophecies old man, and I will not die, nor send these people to death for them.” He turned to Adda, his lips drawn in determination. “Adda, lead the way to the cave, we will follow. When we get there, seek any blade that you can. I know for certain the beasts can be killed by removing their heads.”
“It is too late,” the man, the sentry, whispered. A shadow fell across camp at the same moment and Adda looked up to a sight she had hoped never to see again.
A Dragon swooped from the treetops, down into the natural clearing of the camp. A damaged, mutilated Dragon, his many wounds seeped and gleamed in the rising sunlight, long dagger-like teeth dripping a mixture of saliva and blood. In his claws, he held a woman, or the remains of one. She wore strips of brown cloth, so ragged and destroyed it was almost unrecognizable as clothing. Her blond hair tangled down her back in a single dirty mat, chunks of it missing from her scalp, leaving visible wounds where it had been torn from her head. Her arms and face were littered with neat, methodical slices, open and swollen, but not bleeding. Her eyes had been gouged out, like those of the beasts created from Shifters. That didn't stop her, however, from settling her cool awareness upon the pack. Her face turned their direction and Adda could have sworn she was looking at them. The air seemed to chill around Adda and gooseflesh rose in tingles along her spine.
The Dragon swooped in, allowing the woman a closer pass. Adda realized, with a start, that her clothes were not brown, or they weren't always. They had been white once, the same robes of the others, no doubt, but these had been saturated with blood, stained so heavily there was not a scrap of white left. How could a body even function without its fluids?
The undergrowth to the west rustled and several of the creatures, those born of Shifters infected with bites, emerged. A sense of doom settled upon Adda. Maybe the woman had come for her. This might be the end of her journey, for this, undoubtedly, was Nex's sister, as he had said.
But the woman's attention did not linger on Adda, her focus, as the Dragon...Morakamouth...set her on the ground, riveted on Scet. She landed with a grace that should not have been possible in her condition, a sneer pulling at what was left of her lips. She strode forward, her focus unfaltering.
Scet braced himself, the spear, his gift given minutes ago, before him. Surprisingly, however, the woman stopped, just out of range, and tilted her head, her sneer deepening.
“You have something of mine, Lorekeeper, and I want it back.”