Chapter Thirteen
Now that he was clean and had a little time to process the events at Wolfgard, Shaine was starting to calm down and put things in perspective. Kavarr’s words had helped; the big hunter was right — dead was dead, whether by rhyx fangs or assassin’s blade.
While Garrik was not thrilled at Shaine and Vorri’s disappearance, or at the part Jaire had played, he seemed pleased enough with the final outcome, which gave him a way to invade Ysdrach. And if they hadn’t gone, Kavarr and the others would still be imprisoned, and the attacks on the villages would have continued.
Once Garrik and Ilya were gone, Mikhyal turned to Shaine. “Do you need anything, Shaine?” He sounded so concerned.
“You… you’re staying, aren’t you? Once Father arrives, I mean.”
Mikhyal’s eyes softened. “Of course I am.”
“He’s going to be furious.”
“I think you might be surprised,” Mikhyal said warmly. He studied Shaine with narrowed eyes. “Are you all right?”
“I think so,” Shaine murmured. “I still can’t decide if going off by ourselves was a good idea or not. We freed the hunters and we’ve apparently given Garrik a tactical advantage he never thought he’d have, but… we risked the Northern Alliance to do it. All we meant to do was stop Ord from sending dragons out to burn down Falkrag. None of us had any idea Garrik would take it into his head to come after Jaire himself.”
“Nor did we,” Mikhyal said flatly.
<I know I speak for all of the hunters when I say we are very grateful you did go off by yourselves.> Kavarr’s words drifted through the pack-sense on waves of approval and gratitude.
Vorri murmured a quiet translation to Mikhyal, then said, “Kavarr is right. You can’t tear yourself apart over what you think we should have done. For good or for ill, it is done. Only the gods know for certain if what we did was helpful or harmful. We did what we thought right at the time, and that is all we can really say of it.”
“I say it was helpful,” Mikhyal said. “You’ve not only opened a chink in the Wytch Council’s armor, you’ve opened the door to an alliance with Vorri and Kavarr’s people. You did well, Shaine.”
Before Shaine could say anything to that, the suite door opened and Drannik entered. He came straight to the sitting room. “Shaine! I hear we should be giving you a hero’s welcome.”
Shaine’s face grew hot. “I… I’m not sure about that, Father.”
“You killed a Wytch King and his Wytch Master,” Drannik said. “That’s more than most of us have managed to do.”
“And I caused another Wytch King to need rescuing,” Shaine pointed out. “If they’d managed to get an Inquisitor out there, it could have gone very badly. For Garrik and… and for the Northern Alliance.”
“Ai, it could,” Drannik said gravely. “It could very well have proved to be a killing blow to the Alliance. But it was not. You and Vorri came through. You put it right in the end. And you’ve brought home Rhiva’s lost exiles. That makes you a hero and more in my eyes.”
“It… it does?” No one had ever said anything like that to Shaine before. He could hardly believe his ears, but when he looked up at his father, he saw the same kind of pride and respect in Drannik’s dark eyes that he saw when Drannik spoke to Mikhyal.
“Ai, it does. You’ve proved your loyalty to Rhiva and to the Northern Alliance to be beyond question. I’m proud of you, son.”
Son. Drannik had never called him son before, and until that moment, Shaine hadn’t known how badly he’d needed to hear it. He felt surprisingly light, as if a great weight he hadn’t even known he was bearing had been lifted from his shoulders. His eyes burned as Drannik approached him and put a hand on his shoulder, giving it an affectionate squeeze. It was something he frequently did with Mikhyal, but had never done with Shaine.
“Well done, Shaine,” Drannik said. “Very well done.”
When Drannik drew back, he gave Shaine an approving smile before turning to Kavarr. “Hunter Kavarr,” he said gravely, “I would welcome the chance to speak with your father at his earliest convenience.”
<Tell your father I can bring him at any time,> Kavarr said to Shaine. <We await the Wytch King of Rhiva’s convenience.>
Shaine repeated Kavarr’s words, and Drannik nodded. “I can speak with him now, if he is willing.”
“Father…” Shaine cleared his throat and continued hesitantly, “I think it would be more appropriate to meet Svirrin at Castle Rhivana, don’t you?”
Drannik’s eyes widened and he nodded slowly. “Ai, it would indeed. I hadn’t considered that might be possible, but I suppose with your new ability…”
“Vorri and I can have us there in the blink of an eye,” Shaine said. “And once Kavarr has been there and gotten his bearings, he’ll be able to Jump Svirrin right to us.”
“Very well,” Drannik said. “Mikhyal, if you would attend Garrik, and let him know what we are about, I will speak with our lost kin and see what sort of accord we can reach.”
“Yes, Father.” Mikhyal turned to Shaine. “Will you be all right, Shaine?”
“Ai,” Shaine said, glancing at Drannik and smiling shyly. “I will be.”
Mikhyal looked pleased. “Good. Then as soon as you’ve finished in Rhiva, you and Kavarr must come back here and meet us in the library, assuming Kavarr’s pack leader is willing. Any invasion of Wolfgard is going to hinge on the two of you.”
“We’ll be there,” Shaine said, approaching his father. “From what I’ve seen of Svirrin, I don’t think there’s any question that Kavarr and his hunters will be allowed to take part. Vorri, we’ll meet in Father’s study. Do you remember it?”
Vorri nodded and went to stand beside his brother. “I do.”
Shaine held a hand out to his father. “Shall we?”
Without hesitation, Drannik took hold of Shaine’s hand and Shaine Jumped them both home.
* * *
Mikhyal made his way to Garrik’s study with a smile on his face. A day that could have ended in disaster on multiple fronts was coming to a very satisfying close. Shaine was safe, and if the last exchange between his brother and their father was any indication, something that had always been wrong between the two of them was beginning to heal.
Jaire had returned, Garrik had been rescued, and Shaine’s actions at Wolfgard had opened the door for a military action that had every chance of giving the Northern Alliance a foothold in the south. Not to mention how useful the rhyx shifters with their Jumping ability would be to the Alliance.
All in all, Mikhyal was feeling quite positive when he entered the library, which was empty but for the loud voices emanating from Garrik’s study.
“…and anyway, who are you to talk?” That was Prince Jaire, speaking more forcefully than he ever did at the meetings. “You left, too.”
“Only to fetch you.” Garrik’s voice was dangerously calm. “What in the Dragon Mother’s coldest hell were you thinking? Whether you want it or not, you’re the only heir I have at the moment, and whether you’ve been named officially or not, you are the one the job would fall to.”
“Then maybe you’d better get busy with Bria and make a proper heir,” Jaire shot back.
There was a long, tense pause, broken by the sound of Master Ilya’s laughter. “He’s got you there, Garrik.”
“Ilya, this is not—”
“And he’s right,” Ilya continued. “If you want to keep Jaire off the throne, it’s high time you did something about the succession. Our conflict with the Wytch Council is about to escalate, and if they draw the southern kingdoms into it… Whether you’re ready or not, it’s time, Garrik. Altan needs an heir.”
“Oh, very well,” Garrik grumbled. “I’ll… I’ll go and have a talk with Bria as soon as we’ve dealt with Ysdrach. Will that suit you both?”
Mikhyal couldn’t hear Jaire or Ilya’s responses, but they were followed by low laughter. Garrik soon left the study, looking rather harassed. He stopped dead when he saw Mikhyal waiting in the library.
“Heard that, did you?” he said with a scowl.
“Ai,” Mikhyal said with a grin. “It was a bit hard not to.”
“Well, much as I hate to admit it, they are right.” There was a long pause before he added, “I suppose it’s too early for there to be any news of negotiations between Svirrin and Drannik.”
Mikhyal laughed. “Just a bit. My father is meeting with Svirrin in Rhiva at the moment. I’ve asked Shaine and Kavarr to meet us here as soon as they have news. We stand to gain some valuable allies.”
“Ai, that we do,” Garrik said. “I’m just off to the map section to see if I can find any plans of Wolfgard. You can go on into the study if you like. Ilya and Jaire are in there. Celebrating their victory, I should imagine.” He gave Mikhyal a long-suffering look. “Always ganging up on me, those two.”
Mikhyal laughed. “And you enjoy every minute of it.”
“Not every minute,” Garrik said, shaking his head.
* * *
By unspoken agreement, Vorri and Kavarr arrived behind their parents’ cottage, near the herb garden. It had been their meeting place as children, and since he was with Kavarr, it was the first place Vorri thought to Jump. Kavarr must have had the same thought, for he arrived at Vorri’s side.
Vorri flashed his brother a grin, and felt the warmth of Kavarr’s affection through the pack-sense. The herb garden lay before them, the tops of the dead plants barely visible under the snow.
<I have never seen the garden like this,> Kavarr said.
“Nor have I. I’ll miss it, even though I loathed all the weeding. I hate that we have to leave, but… it’s exciting, too. So many new people to meet and new places to explore.”
<And perhaps a chance to return to my human form.> The wistfulness and longing in Kavarr’s tone tore at Vorri’s heart.
“Vayne thinks he can do it. He said as much to me and Shaine when he examined my mythe-shadow. Once Da and Wytch King Drannik come to an agreement…” Vorri lifted a hand and curled his fingers in Kavarr’s ruff. “I hope it’s soon,” he whispered. “I love my rhyx form, but I can’t imagine being stuck in it for so long.”
<I fear I no longer love it,> Kavarr said, turning toward the house.
Vorri had no idea how to respond to that, so he followed his brother silently, opening the door for him when they reached the cottage.
It was hard to believe that only yesterday he’d Jumped back home, wounded and fearing for Shaine’s life. Harder still to believe that the father who came to greet them was now the pack leader.
<I trust all is secure here,> Kavarr said.
“All is secure,” Svirrin said with a tired smile. “And you’ll be pleased to know, the hunters’ services were not necessary. Our people will follow us to Rhiva. But for the council of elders, the vote was unanimous.”
“And Grandfather?” Vorri asked.
“He will come, too. Your grandmother will not have it otherwise. Did you speak with Wytch King Drannik?”
“We did,” Vorri said. “He awaits you at Castle Rhivana.”
Da looked down at himself and smoothed his rough-woven shirt. “I fear I have no suitable attire for meeting with royalty.”
Kavarr snorted, and Vorri said, “They are in the middle of a war. Wytch King Drannik dresses for comfort while working long hours with his advisors. I don’t think you’ll be out of place. And anyway, he’s asked us to bring you to his private study. He won’t be presenting you to the Court. Not yet, anyway.”
“Very well,” Da said.
Ma came over from the hearth to hug each of them in turn and wish them luck. She looked far more hopeful and bright than she had in a long time. Then Da took hold of Vorri’s hand, and Vorri tangled his fingers in Kavarr’s ruff and took them to Wytch King Drannik’s private study.
Shaine and his father awaited them. A fire had been built in the hearth, refreshments laid out on the large work table, and a bowl containing fresh water for Kavarr had been set to one side.
Vorri performed the introductions, and managed to get through them without stumbling too badly. Once that was done, Drannik said, “Now that we’ve all been introduced, I fear Shaine needs to leave us. He’s needed in Altan for a very important mission, which we hope Kavarr and his hunters will be joining shortly.”
Da nodded. “Good luck, Your Highness,” he said gravely. “And thank you for all you’ve done to reunite us with our lost kin.”
“The pleasure was mine,” Shaine said, smiling.
“Be careful, Shaine,” Drannik said.
“I will, Father. Thank you.”
Kavarr moved around the table toward Shaine. <I, too, will be leaving you,> he said. <I plan to accompany Prince Shaine on his mission, and I request permission to bring the other hunters along to assist. Regardless of what kind of agreement is reached between the two of you, the pack owes this to Rhiva for freeing our hunters.>
Shaine repeated Kavarr’s words to his father. When he’d finished, Da nodded. “Agreed. Rhiva assisted us, and now we will assist them. Kavarr, you may take any hunters who wish to accompany you and join Prince Shaine.”
<Thank you, Father.> Kavarr bowed his head, then turned to Shaine. <I will meet you there when I have spoken with my hunters.>
“I’d like to come, too, Kavarr,” Vorri said, not wanting to be separated from Shaine.
<With respect, brother,> Kavarr said, <you are not a hunter, and you are not trained for war. I would prefer that you stay behind.>
Stung, Vorri turned away.
<Not because I do not respect you or your abilities,> Kavarr continued, <but because I value you. You have forged a strong tie with Rhiva and we will have need of a liaison in the days to come. You can do far more good here than you can risking your life at Wolfgard.>
“Very well.” Vorri still didn’t like it, but put that way, it stung a lot less. “I’ll stay here in case Da and Wytch King Drannik need to reach Altan quickly, or have a message taken there.”
Da nodded his approval, and Drannik said, “Thank you, Vorri. We would appreciate that.”
There was barely time to say goodbye or wish Shaine luck. After asking Kavarr to give them just a few moments, Shaine drew Vorri out into the hall with him. “My room,” he whispered, and they both Jumped there.
The moment they arrived in Shaine’s room, he pulled Vorri into his arms and kissed him. “I wish we had more time.”
“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Vorri said.
“You know I have to. I’m the only one who’s been inside the fort.”
“I know. I just…” Vorri pressed his hand gently to Shaine’s cheek. “Your eyes when we got back.”
Shaine closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek against Vorri’s hand. “It won’t be like that this time.” Shaine sounded far more confident than Vorri thought he had reason to be, and Vorri sensed the little ripples of uncertainty underneath his bravado. “I won’t be going in rhyx form. My job will just be to Jump the hunters in.”
Vorri leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Shaine’s.
“It’ll be all right,” Shaine whispered. He pulled away a little, eyes heating as they met Vorri’s. “When I’m back—”
“No promises.” Vorri pressed a finger against Shaine’s lips. “Not yet. We’ll have time for promises when this is over.”
“I’ll come to you as soon as I can.” Shaine pressed a kiss to Vorri’s lips. “That’s a promise I can make.” Shaine gave his hand one last squeeze, then stepped away and Jumped.
“Be careful,” Vorri whispered when he was gone. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he Jumped back to Wytch King Drannik’s study to wait.
* * *
The screams were the worst.
Shaine stood with Mikhyal in the dimly lit hall outside Wolfgard’s kitchen and pressed his hands to his ears while Kavarr and his hunters went to work. The hall he’d chosen to Jump to had been deserted, thank the Dragon Mother, so he couldn’t actually see the aftermath.
Mikhyal had insisted on coming along to protect him. Though Dirit refused to take the offensive, he had been convinced to extend his protection to Shaine as well, as long as he stayed close to his brother.
The screams grew more distant as the hunters worked their way out from Shaine and Mikhyal’s position, but the knowledge that it would soon be over didn’t help. Shaine still dreaded the sight of the shredded bodies and the blood Kavarr and the others would leave behind. He’d had rather enough of blood just lately.
As if reading his thoughts, Mikhyal put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “If there was any other way, I’d have kept you out of this.”
Shaine managed a weak smile. “It’s stupid, really. I saw such awful things when Anxin had control of me. This is different, though. Killing Altivair and Rotham… and bringing the hunters here so they can…” His throat tightened, and he had to force himself to continue. “When Anxin controlled me, I fought him with everything I had, and the only consolation I had was that none of what happened was my choice. This… these last few days… everything I’ve done has been of my own free will. And I know it’s the right thing to do, I know we need to put a stop to the attacks on our own people, but I thought… I thought this would feel like a victory.” Shaine stared down at the floor. “It doesn’t, Mik. It doesn’t feel like a victory at all. It just makes me feel sick.”
“Oh, Shaine.” Mikhyal sounded so weary, so sad. “If you enjoyed it, I’d be worried about you. We’re defending our people and trying to stop the Wytch Council’s tyranny, and that’s a good thing. But the cold truth is that to accomplish that good thing, we may well have to do some horrible things. And we might have to do them to people who are just following orders, or trying to defend their homes and families. I’m sorry it has to be this way. I’m sorry you have to be part of it. But I’m not sorry it makes you feel ill. I’m proud of you for seeing it through in spite of that.”
Two hours later, Shaine stood atop Wolfgard’s easternmost tower, gut clenching as the sun rose over the smoking battlefield. He felt numb and disconnected from it all. It had happened so fast. Kavarr had spared only Wolfgard’s commander, who had already been taken back to Altan for questioning.
The soldiers standing guard outside and those who’d managed to flee the fort had been dealt with by the dragons, assisted on the ground by more of Kavarr’s hunters.
Now, the ground surrounding the fort was a churned-up mess of bodies and blood, dotted with patches of ice where the snow had been melted by dragon fire and then frozen again by the frigid night air.
“They never had a chance,” Shaine murmured, staring down at the scorched and bloody bodies scattered around the base of the fort.
Mikhyal’s hand settled on his shoulder. “Nor did our folk at Rinwyck and the other villages they destroyed.”
Shaine stared down at the blackened patches of forest where several groups of soldiers had fled. None had surrendered, even when given the opportunity. “Father’s planning to deed Rinwyck and the lands around it to Svirrin and his folk. It’s big enough to house them all, with room left to grow.”
“That’s… fitting. Elegant, even.” Mikhyal turned to look at his brother. “Your idea?”
“I might have suggested it.” Shaine’s cheeks heated. “The village is empty, after all, just waiting for people to fill it with life and laughter again.”
“What of the hunters?” Mikhyal asked. “Might they not find it difficult to settle in a place where they were forced to kill so many innocents?”
“Ai, I thought of that. Father says if any of the hunters want to settle elsewhere, he’ll see to it homes are built for them. I suspect most of them will be more interested in joining the army, though.”
Mikhyal regarded Shaine with an appraising look. “Regardless of what you might think, I believe you’d have made a fine king, Shaine.”
Shaine gave him a rueful smile. “It’s kind of you to say so, but… I’d have hated every moment of it. You’ll make a far better king than I would. But not for a long time, I hope.”
“I’m glad Father’s finally realized your worth. I only wish it hadn’t taken him so long.”
“We can’t change the past,” Shaine said, echoing what Vorri had told him yesterday. “He said he was proud of me, Mik. He’s never said that before.”
Mikhyal arched an eyebrow. “He could hardly say otherwise. I don’t think you fully appreciate—”
“There you are!” Garrik’s voice boomed from behind them. “Savoring the Northern Alliance’s first victory?”
“Bit early for that,” Mikhyal said mildly. “We still have to hold the place long enough to bring in our own troops.”
Garrik grinned. “That won’t take long. Not with Kavarr and his men helping us. They’ve already Jumped in an entire squad. It’s amazing. Do you know that in the past hour, I’ve been to Altan and back three times?” He shook his head. “Three times! Kavarr and his hunters are exactly what we needed.”
“What’s next?” Mikhyal asked. “After we take the palace at Ravenfell and secure Ysdrach under Alliance rule, I mean.”
“We take the fight to Askarra.” Garrik’s eyes gleamed in the early morning light. “Before the Wytch Council is fully aware of what we can do. We have an advantage now, and we must press forward while we have it.” He raked a hand through shaggy black hair. “For the first time since we started discussing an alliance to fight the Wytch Council, I feel confident that we can succeed. I set out to free the northern kingdoms, but we may well break the Wytch Council’s hold on all of Skanda.” He turned to Shaine. “And it’s all thanks to you, Shaine. Without Vorri’s people, we’d never have been able to pull this off.”
Shaine smiled, cheeks heating at Garrik’s praise.
He might have set out to bring home a weapon for the war, but instead, he’d found an army that would put the Northern Alliance on an equal footing with the Wytch Council. And if things worked out with Vorri, he might have even found a future for himself, as well.