Ronan: Night Wolves by Lisa Daniels (85)

Chapter Five

Somehow, somewhere, the incessant voice that pounded within her had quietened.  She stared at the empty space where Vrin had lain next to her after their romp, and saw the cold breakfast he had intended to surprise her with.

Honestly, she clung to him because she wanted to feel something before she died, anything but the constant reminder that darkness knocked at her door.  He had been supportive, kind, solid, and she took advantage.

Because what right did she have to like, to love, when this vile infection coursed through her veins?

The moon shone brightly outside, staring down at her children in a brilliant gleam of yellow. 

Give in.

She dismissed the voice, got dressed in her warmest clothes, and peeked through the keyhole of her chambers.  A guard stood dutifully outside.

Stealthily, she crept to the window and prised it open, wincing when it made a tiny squealing sound.  No one reacted.  No one saw.  She brushed off the snow that had formed upon the sill and clambered onto the ledge outside.  Her shoes struggling to keep a good grip on the outside, she slithered onto a roof.  Now people noticed her.  Hard not to get noticed in a fortress full of sensitive individuals alert for Shadow activity, but she didn’t care.

She sensed the Shadow nearby.  Her blood pulled her to it.  Hatred pulsed within, and she slid onto the cold, snow packed ground, and through the building where the Shadow presence emitted from.

This hadn’t occurred before.  Normally, she just heard the voice whispering, and the darkness clawing.

Now, she felt something different.  Power.  As if magic lingered in her veins again, though not in a shape she knew.

A couple of witches were in the room, and they gaped at her as she strode towards one of the ten Shadows imprisoned in their circles.

“Leave her.  Leave her!”  Raine recognized her from one of the workstations.  She held up a palm against the three guards who paced into the room.

“Miss, isn’t she –”

“We can take her if it comes to that.  But wait, please!”  She turned her attention elsewhere.  “Yarrow.  Can you understand me?”

Give in.

“Yes.”  Yarrow forced the word out.  She stared at the amorphous Shadow in front of her.  Her blood screamed at her to step forward.

For some reason, there was no fear.  Just an odd, floating conviction that she needed to do this.

The Shadow pressed against the invisible barrier, keen to reach her.  To connect.

Risking everything, obeying the call of her blood, Yarrow reached over the barrier and her palm came into contact with the Shadow’s head.

A dam of thoughts flooded.

Pain kill hatred dead all of us dead not resting not sleeping still moving miserable hateful anger.  The Shadow jerked, raising its arms to grasp hers.

Gasps and exclamations sounded from behind, but Yarrow ignored them.

Hatred anger giving in never stops never stops please make it stop please endless agaonizing.

Yarrow closed her eyes.  The Shadow’s thoughts overlapped with others, like a cacophony of screams.

What are you, Shadow?

The Shadow quivered at this mental question, its bulbous form fluctuating. 

We are no one fragments hungry thirsty moving vengeance dark filled inside. Then, a pause in the flow of chaos.  Give us death.

You want to die?  Yarrow pulsed the thought.  The gibbering madness became contained, now that she understood the source of the voice, the frequency they emitted at.

Yes die kill death.

Then why don’t you?

The Shadow seemed to hesitate at this thought, confused.  Then, it retracted from her hand, inflating and expelling like lungs, before it disintegrated into nothing.  Brief happiness touched her thoughts from the expiring monster.

“By the moon,” Raine whispered, as Yarrow turned, facing the stunned audience who had now poured into the barn-like expanse. 

Give in.

Yarrow walked past the Shadows, pulsing the same thought.

Rest in peace.

Within moments, all ten Shadows had collapsed into nothing.

A hushed, terrified silence filled the enclave.  Hragun stood at the back in his hulking human form, his yellow eyes expanding in shock.  Erlandur pushed his way through the crowd, along with Targun, Kain and Vrin.

“What happened?”  Erlandur said, his voice strong, projecting through the room. 

Yarrow sifted through the attraction in her blood.  She could sense more Shadows.  She could, if she strained her mind, hear their voices.  “Turns out I might have an entirely new power,” she said.

A beat.

“That’s nice,” Raine said, though she sounded both awed and alarmed.  “But can you not kill all our Shadows here?  We need them for the weapons.”

Erlandur chuckled.  “Interesting.  You were able to touch it and not die.  How?”

“I’m partially one now,” Yarrow said without emotion, though her heart danced in sudden delight, sudden inspiration.  “I can hear them.  I can feel them.  I can affect them.”

She wobbled slightly on her feet.  “And they listen to me.”

Naturally, she chose that moment to have her legs cave out from under her, and she fell to the cold floor.

Give in.

No.

Hands helped her back up.  Belatedly, Yarrow realized she was now suffering the recoil of her magic.  Her Shadow magic.

“Told you you’d be useful.”  Vrin smirked at her then, and the room erupted into conversation, processing the events of what they had just seen.

What a strange twist of events.

Yarrow, so close to death, now had some form of control over it.

But how?

Later in the night, all the clan leaders and witches gathered, with Yarrow as their subject of talk.  They drilled her about the power, tried to fathom what it was, and if they could spread it as a weapon amongst other witches.

Yarrow stood adamant on the fact: no.  “Anyone who has this happen to them will have the voice inside.  I do not wish this upon you.”

“What changed?”  Erlandur asked, his legs spread as he leaned forward on the chair.  “What made you go and use this magic?”

Yarrow shrugged.  “It changed…”  Her face flushed crimson.  Certain events clicked into place.

Smokes.  It changed after Vrin and I…

Vrin saw her embarrassment, made the connection, and coughed politely to draw everyone’s attention.  “I think she’s saying she changed when she got retested for magic.”

Hragun’s face went livid.  “You?  YOU?”  He got up, hands like claws, and he needed to be physically restrained by Erlandur, Priya and Kain.  “YOU TOUCHED MY DAUGHTER?”

“Calm down!” Erlandur snapped.  “He may have saved your daughter’s life!”

Hragun wouldn’t calm down though, and eventually needed escorting out.  His yells and frothing anger were hurled behind him as he vanished.

An awkward silence prevailed.  “Sorry about my dad,” Yarrow said, feeling the need to defend him.  “He just gets super protective.  He got mad enough when I first unlocked my powers.”

“This is so… fascinating,” Raine said, eyes shining like stars.  “Unbelievable.”

“I have no idea,” Yarrow said.  “We’ve officially gone over the edge of the cliff into unknown magic territory.”

“You know what this means?  You realize what this means?”  Raine leapt to her feet, excitement in her bounce.  “We have a Supreme.  On our side.”  Gasps punctuated the statement.  “She’s a Supreme.  She has the powers of control.”

“I don’t think it’s like that,” Yarrow said, extremely embarrassed by the shouts that followed Raine’s words.  “I doubt a Supreme would faint after one attempt at magic.”

“A baby Supreme, then,” Raine corrected, still not letting go of her theory.  “You said you could hear their thoughts, right?  That you told the Shadows to rest, and they did?”

Yarrow nodded.

“Well, from what we’ve seen, Supremes have that same type of control.  Except, obviously they’re not using it to put their minions to sleep.  So.  You got infected.  By a Supreme.  Then you uh, got tested.  And it unlocked this power.”  Her face momentarily fell.  “If I knew… I could have saved my mother.”

No matter how Yarrow tried to downplay it, everyone looked at her with a mix of reverence and fear.  True excitement flicked through Erlandur’s eyes, through the leaders.

They had a new weapon. 

One that Yarrow still didn’t understand.

Give in.

Of course, the voice always lingered there, always tapped…

But she could hold it.

Just.

She asked to have a break from the war council, and they allowed her outside to grab a breath of air.  She stared at the sky, thinking of her father, her family, of the strange, tainted magic in her skin.

I never wanted to be this.  She examined her hands.  I mocked Raine.  I hated her method, her use of Shadow blood.  Yet I am now no better.  I am this thing.  And I see into their minds.

Vrin stepped beside her in the cold night, which tickled her cheek with icy fingers.  His yellow eyes crinkled at her, and she reached for his hand.  He grabbed it and squeezed.

“It’s a lot to take in,” she said.

“I know the feeling.”

Give in.

With a sigh, she leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes for a moment, letting herself forget that the outside world existed.  That the curse influenced her blood.

“If these powers work the way Raine thinks,” Yarrow said, her mouth twisting as she considered her words, “then our expedition will need me.  And I need you.”

“Of course.”

“I need you to keep me on the straight path.  To keep encouraging me if I stumble.  The voice isn’t gone.  It’s just quieter.”

Vrin kissed her on the forehead.  “I will.”

Empowered, Yarrow opened her eyes.  A sense of purpose filled her. 

Give in.

She wasn’t a Shadow.  She might have their taint in her veins, but she knew a little of how to use it against them.

I can rain death upon them.  I can creep into their minds and whisper for them to rest.  I can sever the bonds between them and the voice that commands them.

Her eyes fixed upon the dark spiral that protruded above the mountains.  The Fractured City.

Eight hundred wolves intended to enter the city.  Fully decked in armor.  The witches protected. 

And now her, with this cursed power.

She’d need to talk to her father later.  Reassure him, persuade him of Vrin’s good intentions.  Tell him she liked Vrin.  She needed him.

Maybe later.  Yawning, she let go of Vrin’s hand, gave him a quick kiss upon the lips and a hug.  “I’m going back in.”

“Good luck surviving in there,” he replied with a grin, walking with her side by side into the council room.

The End

Erlandur’s Rescue

Guardians of Lunar Wasteland

(Book 4)

Chapter One

Faith came from the central plains, in the region known as Ghost Lake.  Thermal springs that bubbled under the surface of their home made sure that the lakes stayed unfrozen, and life thrived in the strange oasis of her home.

Or, as much as it did thrive, from the Shadows that picked them off from the fringes, and the constant howling elements of their world.  Ghost Lake, second to the Fractured Spine, was a region that suffered the most from Shadow activity.  Possibly because of the thermal springs counteracting the Shadow’s weakness.  Possibly because their witches today were living descendants of the thousand that sacrificed their lives so long ago.

And now, well – Faith was a long way from home.  She scratched at her short dark hair, before idly playing with one of her twin blades, watching the sparring matches going on between the different wolf clans and some of the witches, eager to test their magic out.  Raine, that peculiar enchanter, with a small wave of volunteers, was fitting armor onto a werewolf who had chosen to permanently take on their animal form for the war.  Yarrow, the Shadow witch, stared into the cloud covered sky with a dull, unimpressed look upon her face, her blackened veins in clear display.

“Gloomy, isn’t she?”  Geraline sat down beside her fellow witch, offering a slice of bread for Faith to chew.  Faith accepted and munched through it, still roving around the fort city, taking in the commotion and activity of the Spine wolves.

“She has a right to be,” Faith replied.  “The Dreadwood have a hatred deeper than the rest of us combined for the Shadows.  Now she has to learn to use their power.”

“It’s an advantage, though.”  Geraline frowned, wrinkling her button nose. 

“Is it?  Seems pretty miserable to me.”  Faith snatched her attention away from the brooding witch, staring instead at the sparrers.  How she longed to go down there and spar as well – to feel her body react to the magic coursing through her blood, and to beat anyone who dared face her.  Except, well, no one could provide even the slightest hint of a challenge to her.  She’d lost most of the excitement of battle a long time ago.  When you sensed and predicted your opponent’s moves before they executed them, it always felt to her that everyone else fought in slow motion, drunk and useless.

“Come on.  You know you want to.  Why not try with that Alyssa?  She’s pretty skilled.”

“There’s no point,” Faith said.  “Anyone I go against, I win.  I have nothing to prove.  And they don’t need to be humiliated.”

“You need a challenge.  Why not challenge all of them?”

Faith snorted.  It wasn’t a bad idea, honestly, because even with her predictive talent, too many elements in the battle made it hard to keep track.  Predictive talent then intuited to her to find a better place to make her stand.

“What, and humiliate them?”

“Yes.  And you get a chance to get up close and heavy with Erlandur Malgrave.  You don’t think I’ve seen the way you look at him?”

“That’s because he has those undead wolves.”  Faith kept her blush under control.  She didn’t follow Malgrave.  No way.

“Whatever.  You can’t fool me.  So.  You gonna take them on or you gonna sit here looking forlorn and bored out of your skull?”

Faith rolled her eyes.  “Suppose I can’t sit around forever.  Wish me luck.”

Geraline grinned wickedly.  “This is gonna be good.”

Faith got up, and sauntered down to the sparring grounds.  Not everyone knew who she was, and some heads turned to examine as she strode around the sparrers, looking for an opponent.  Alyssa Malgrave stood wheezing and heaving, having just finished a spar with her brother, Erlandur.  The southerners regarded her quietly, as a few flakes of snow tumbled around them.  Their breaths hissed in the air, condensing and dispersing.

“You’re looking to fight?”  Alyssa asked, wiping some of the sweat off her brow. 

Faith shrugged, nonchalant.  A challenge.  She desired a challenge, one to set her heart pumping.  But what glory was there in a fight when no one matched up to you?  “Yes.  I’m looking to fight several opponents at once.  One is too easy.”

Erlandur raised one blonde eyebrow.  Without his intimidating helmet, his fine, soft features contrasted strangely with the light southerner colors.  He had a little tan to his skin, and dark blue eyes that sometimes seemed full of life, and other times as empty and remorseless as the Lunar Wastes they contemplated.  “I’ve always wondered about combat witches.  Your magic works differently, right?”

Yes.  She never had to cast, or think, or feel.  The magic permanently entangled itself into her, directing her every movement, causing her to react sometimes before she even knew herself where the threat was coming from.

A gift from your grandmother, Grace Corven.  She carried the blood.  And she answered the call when the legion attacked.  She died bravely.  She would have killed them all, if her magic hadn’t run out.  

Her father’s words still rang through her head.  She thought about him now, content at home with her human mother, tending to the fisheries of Ghost Lake.  She never wanted that life.  She wanted to die like her grandmother, deep in the teeth of the enemy.

But it did make for a lonely life.

“I challenge everyone who wants to test their skills against me,” Faith announced.  “If anyone can strike one blow against my body, I’ll give them the Tear of the Warrior.”  She held up her necklace, a last memento of her grandmother.  “This belonged to the greatest combat witch who ever lived.  It grants extra reserves of magic, and is quite valuable.”

One werewolf scoffed.  “You want to challenge us all for that pretty trinket?”

“At the same time,” Faith smiled sweetly.

This caused a commotion, a stir.  Some people acted downright offended of being challenged, and spoke up of her unfair terms upon herself.

“No.  I’m making the terms fairer for the rest of you.”

Erlandur chuckled by the side-lines.  He tossed two sticks to Faith, who seized them with unerring accuracy, and ten warriors chose to take up the challenge.

Alyssa and Erlandur included. Eight men with the strength of werewolves coursing through their cells.  Faith couldn’t help but notice that all the Ghost Lake wolves had politely declined her challenge, and instead watched from the sidelines with knowing, smug grins.

Faith strolled to face her ten opponents – two with quarterstaffs, the rest with conventional swords and shields.  Her challenge by now had drawn quite a crowd, who jostled to create an arena for her match.  Faith clutched her weapons, closed her eyes, and felt the familiar pulse of her magic call to her.

“Any time,” she said, still keeping her eyes closed.

There was a moment’s hesitation.  Then, she heard the flutter of footpads on the ground, the rushing determination to take her up on the spar.

She appreciated none of them hesitated, or held back.  Perhaps they sensed her supreme confidence, the little taste of arrogance as she regarded them like mere infants, unworthy of her time. 

The power runs through me.  It whispered to her as the first stick came whooshing at her side.  She moved just enough to feel the air disturbance as it chopped down, then made one in step, slashing upwards, knowing, through her eyes being closed, that her opponent wouldn’t have time to react, given the air pressure, the electromagnetic field around their body and the space they occupied.  Two smacks later, her opponent collapsed on the cobbled floor. 

She stepped on them and leapt then, now opening her eyes, just avoiding two side swiped, twisting and spinning in the air, lashing out with one foot, landing on the chest of a runner after knocking his stick out the way.

One, two, three.  They all fall down.  Her blood pumped, her heart sang, and she pivoted, facing her next two opponents.  She noticed the other five now attempting to circle her, to use their sheer numbers to overwhelm.  Three steps forward.  Dodge the thrust here, duck the swipe there – she straightened and snapped out her hands, before striking her opponent in what she perceived as his weak spot.  The magic burned in her mind, heightened her senses beyond mortal comprehension.

She saw the world before her, perfectly mapped out, anticipating each action and reaction with her powers.  She felt invincible, unstoppable, and roared in ferocity as two men sprang for her at once.  She moved just right, knocked one out with a timed blow to the back of their skull, and in six moves, disarmed her next opponent.  All of them were faceless, unskilled entities to her, just people to beat, to dodge, to disarm.  In her moon blessed perception, the remaining four boxed her in.  The first werewolf she took down lay feebly on the ground, groaning as his head rang from the impossibly accurate blows.

Every move you do, I’ll see it and block it before you even realize you’re doing it.

She filtered out the gasps of astonishment and amazement from the sidelines, and sprinted towards one of the four boxing her in, before they got too close.  The magic coursed through her muscles, and her legs burned from the effort.  She exchanged four swipes of her sticks before ducking and sliding diagonally to avoid a blow to her back, then backflipping to avoid Alyssa’s opportunistic thrust, landing on an opponent’s shoulder.  She sprang and twisted mid air, roaring in triumph, delivering a series of blows to the man in front of her springboard.  He crumpled, eyes bulging in shock and surprise, and she spun to fend Alyssa’s blow. 

She advanced upon Alyssa, but Erlandur assaulted her from the side – Faith blocked four ferocious blows from him, then tripped Alyssa when she swiped herself off balance from an attack.  The third opponent, Linther – three successive attacks on him sent him groaning to the ground, clutching his ribs.

She stood then, calmly facing Erlandur and Alyssa.

“Um,” Alyssa said, exchanging a glance with her brother, green eyes to blue.  “How do you beat a combat witch, actually?”

Erlandur smiled, and gestured to his sister to encircle Faith, who didn’t stand around to wait for it. 

Attack him!  She launched herself at Erlandur, but Erlandur stepped backwards – Faith immediately divined his tactic, and spun instead on Alyssa, who fended one blow from her, then squeaked and made a forward roll away from Faith, but Faith didn’t give her a chance to recover.  She attacked Alyssa, who deflected five blows, before Faith then turned upon Erlandur, then ignored him, taking the opportunity to incapacitate Alyssa.

“Drat,” Erlandur muttered. 

Faith briefly appreciated Alyssa’s futile attempts to stop her, before she disarmed the woman, smiling as her luminous green eyes gaped.

Erlandur stood still for a moment, regarding the combat witch with his dark blue eyes, before smirking.

A chill went up Faith’s spine.  One second later, she ducked under the lunge of one of Erlandur’s undead wolves, and side rolled out of the advance of another.

Her muscles were now getting tired, but her magic still flared strong – Erlandur advanced, his wolves flanking her.

Avoid the throat pounce here, snap under the attack there – straight onto Erlandur.  She sensed she had about forty seconds to end the fight before her magic reserves dipped low, and she’d need to tap into the Tear. 

Attack!

One slash, one uppercut, she had disarmed him.

The undead wolves stopped their movement, standing in eerie stillness as Erlandur chuckled.

“Not so bad, witch.”

Faith stared into his eyes for a moment, breathing fast.  “Bringing in the wolves was dangerous.”

“I have a feeling bringing in the wolves posed no danger to you at all,” Erlandur responded softly, as the watching audience broke into cheers and murmurs.

“Combat witches,” Alyssa grunted, picking up her stick, “are insane.  You were – you were like some unworldly being.  Like you knew everything we were going to do.  I’m so jealous!”

“Why?”  Faith responded, smiling at the blonde as she scowled.

“Because I’ve trained for years to be good at fighting, and you can just use your magic and it’s like that training doesn’t even matter.  It’s frustrating.”

Faith nodded, understanding the human’s sentiment.  A lot of people expressed that with her.  The idea of an unbeatable opponent, no matter how hard they practised, didn’t sit well in their hearts.  In their position, Faith would feel exactly the same.

It was how she felt with the Shadows.  No matter how many she vanquished, they never stopped coming.  They never stopped killing.  “It’s not as powerful as people think it is.  The more opponents I face, the faster my magic drains.  When I run out of magic, I’m reduced then to your ability.  Though still formidable, I can no longer be as flawless in my actions.”

Alyssa bit her lip, considering Faith’s words.  “I’m glad you’re on our side.”

Faith smiled.

Erlandur held out a hand for her to shake.  “I have a preposition for you, if you’d like to hear it.”

She shook his hand, partially surprised at how warm he felt.  Her mind reflected on Geraline’s observation.  Did she really stare at him that much?  That noticeably?  “Alright.  Shoot me with it.”

Erlandur pointed to the slice of mountain by ridged plateaus, visible from their vantage spot in the Spine encampment.  “We’re planning to send a scouting mission to determine the best way to get into the city, and to see how Shadow activity is faring.  I’d like you to come.  Your magic will not deflect like it did on Yarrow, if a Supreme ambushes us.  I’m not going to dismiss that kind of power.”

Their eyes locked for a long time.  A ripple of electricity passed through their clasped hands, and Faith found her mind wandering to other places, quieter places where nothing but candlelight lit their features, as bodies intertwined with one another.

She shook her head of the notion, and forced out a smile.  “You’re right not to do so.  I promise you I’ll be an asset to our team.” 

“I’m sure,” he replied, his voice taking on a strange, seductive slant.  Alyssa huffed in disgust.

“No, brother.”

“No, what?”

“I see what you’re doing.  And I’m saying no.”

Now Faith and Erlandur examined his little sister.  They also finally let go of one another’s palms. 

“I’ll see you later?”  Erlandur said then, glancing over to the Ghost Lake wolves.  “Unless you have anything big planned with your clan.”

“No.  Nothing at all.  They can wait.”

The smile they delivered to one another then made Alyssa exclaim in annoyance, before stalking off.

“She’ll get over it,” Faith supplied.

Erlandur twisted his mouth doubtfully.  “I don’t know.  She can be stubborn about these things.”

He winked at her then, before striding off, to engage in deep conversation with the Spine leader, Targun.

Faith absently chewed her lip as she watched him go.

Hmm.  Maybe I do stare too much.