Chapter Two
They traveled for what seemed like miles, not stopping even when they had left the remains of the burning inn far behind. The journey through the dark woods, the windy hills, the frozen creeks and the ghostly villages that had been uninhabited for centuries blurred past. Eventually, Raine said, through chattering teeth, her fingers numb despite the werewolf's fur bristling around them, “I n-need to get warm clothes. I d-don't have any of my insulating clothes on me apart from my indoors clothes. W-we need to stop by a village or t-trader.”
The werewolf skidded to a halt a moment later upon the top of a hill, which overlooked a frozen lake and an assortment of trees, along with what looked like individual settlements. Raine managed to prise herself off, and her limbs creaked in protest and cramp. Pins and needles rippled up her leg as she touched the ground, and with the loss of warmth against her front, the cold intensified. The werewolf morphed at last, revealing the muscular, oval cheeked face of Linther, the werewolf who had tried to “recruit” her a few days back.
“I should h-have known,” she sighed, running a trembling hand through her red hair. “Have you been seriously stalking me this whole time, waiting for an o-opportunity to t-take me?”
“That doesn't matter at this point, does it, witch?” Linther folded his arms, giving her a brief once-over. “I'll check in the settlements here for clothes for you. Obviously you'll need to come with me because I doubt you can even fend off a measly little Shadow by yourself now.”
“T-then what?”
“Then I take you back to my town. I assume you're in need of a new home?” His lips curled in a hard, mirthless smile.
Raine laughed bitterly, doubling up so she pressed her stomach against her knees, trying to fight off the cold. That cursed wolf could have at least waited until they reached a village before making the announcement. “You might b-be right about that. J-just get me... c-clothes...”
The werewolf nodded, before transforming, and allowing Raine to clamber on stiffly, barely managing to keep her grip this time. So moon-cursing cold...
Bounding past snow drifts, which showered around them as he ploughed a way through, he then circumnavigated the frozen lake, paws padding confidently on the ground.
All the while, as Raine pressed her face against his fur, she thought about the Shadow that talked, using her mother's dead lips to taunt her. The way her barrier had so mysteriously vanished, as if months and months of protection meant nothing.
She'd been playing with fire, keeping that Shadow. She should have realized, the moment the blasted thing could talk, that something was up. But she'd made an assumption in her mind... oh, maybe Shadows can talk if they possess a human. Maybe that's why I've never seen one speak before, because I've never seen a human get possessed. Just eaten.
Fool. Blasted fool. That thing, which she kept so merrily confined at the order of her mother, begging her to use her body for something good – contained power beyond anything Raine comprehended.
No wonder the Shadows acted so keen to tease at her barriers on a half-moon basis, in-between her regular flow of customers and traders.
Then those bandits. If she hadn't pushed herself too hard with the magic, maybe she would have been conscious enough to do something.
They must have broken in, searched all the rooms, then came down to the basement. Then they saw the Shadow and my unconscious form. Then... I don't know what they thought. Maybe it pleaded for them to free it? Said I was trapping her unfairly?
Small chance of that. She looked like a corpse.
But they did release her.
And with that release, Raine's former life had ended, just as it dwindled before, with the death of her mother.
She squeezed her eyes shut, and finally, the numbing sensation inside her that concealed everything else at bay, broke into tears, leaking out of her eyes and into the werewolf's mane.
Shortly afterwards, a kindly, isolated werewolf and his wife, located in a small cabin hut provided the clothes. Raine eagerly dressed into them, whilst the elderly wife helped, her fingers expertly fitting on the clothes, before she invited Raine to warm herself up by the fire for a short while.
Linther conversed with the elder werewolf, keeping his story short and lacking a whole lot of truth, and Raine merely nodded along to it. She did give them a tooth each in thanks for their assistance. Good deeds always needed rewarding.
It surprised her to see the couple living far out from tribal protection, however. Wouldn't they struggle against the Shadows? When she raised her concern, Linther shrugged.
“They're not that far out. There's a village about an hour's walk away from them.”
“It's still dangerous, though,” Raine replied to Linther. “I think it's an unnecessary risk by them.”
“It's their choice,” he replied, and that was the end of the matter. Now Raine wore warmer clothes, and no longer felt the icy chill of the Lunar Wasteland sneaking in for an attempt on her life, she was able to think clearly, even as she clung to Linther's broad back, as he bounded through the snow towards Lunehill in the brief sliver of daylight the wastelands offered. Pangs of guilt and a strong essence of dismay wrought her system. How could she not feel terrible, knowing everything was left burning into ash? Never mind the poor traders, the patrons and travelers who had relied on her little inn for years.
She envisioned traders turning up, eyes bulging in disbelief at the sight presented to them. One source of income for them forever eliminated, one less little sanctuary in the wild north. She didn't have the means or material to rebuild. She didn't have anything.
Except, well, her weapons and her rescuer, who loitered around the premises for the ulterior motive of escorting a witch to her new home.
Lunehill. The place where the Queen once lived, and the Snow Witch resides. Could be a worse fate. Could be better.
Night fell again, and she felt Linther tiring beneath her. Even a huge, magnificent creature like him couldn't keep up such a relentless pace for long, especially with someone on his back. He picked a secluded, well sheltered copse of wood, with a clear full of the half-moon above them in the canopy. The rabbit he had caught whilst on the run, with Raine still clinging desperately to his back, now lay before him. Morphing into human form, he set to skinning the beast, remarking that he only did this because she was a human. Otherwise he'd just crunch through it raw, no issues at all.
“Yes, I'm sure,” Raine said, as she used residual magic, creating a marginal headache to tap at her skull, sparking up a fire. “And you'd probably poop as you run as well.”
“I've tried. It's gross.” Linther grinned at her, his expression stopping her heart from beating for a moment. She reconsidered her earlier idea of inviting him to stay the night at the inn for a romp. Perhaps not in the middle of the darkness without some kind of magical barrier, however. She paced around their encampment now, expanding an anti-Shadow barrier with a prick of blood and a pouch of charcoal powder. She considered using the Shadow blood to strengthen it, but decided against wasting it.
Not like I'll have my pet Shadow to extract the blood from, anymore.
Linther observed her enchanting, impressed. “We have other werewolves seeking for witches or uninitiated human females, too. We certainly can do with more of your apparent talent.”
“Why? You can cope against the Shadows as clans. You've never needed witches so badly before. Why would you risk incurring my ire just to lug me over to your town?”
The werewolf narrowed his eyes. “Times are changing. The Shadow attacks grow bolder, more frequent, and with greater numbers than before. We had one battle in our town where they actually outnumbered us. It was only because of our Snow Witch that we beat back their numbers, but it's not good news, either way. The cold no longer keeps them behind the Fractured Spine.”
“That's troubling.” Raine recalled the traveler who had come to her inn, the young girl with a face made out of steel. Straight out of the deep south, she'd stared around the heavily enchanted bar with suspicion and trepidation. Didn't get many southerners around these parts, less so because of their low tolerance to the cold. Not many southerners at all.
She wondered how that southerner fared now. She didn't like the look of the trio who had offered to guide her across the wastelands to the Fractured City. Sure, some travelers might do it for the right price, but often or not, most sought to trick their charges one way or another.
She considered Linther's dilemma. “Well, what are you doing about the increase in numbers, then? Have you been collaborating with the other clans? Have you been sending expeditions to try and find out what the moon is going on?”
Linther placed the skinned rabbit upon a spit, tied by ropes and balanced between two y shaped branches. The flames crackled beneath the raw crimson carcass, giving it an eerie sheen. “We are asking around all the clans as of this moment, and others have been sending envoys to us. There's a plan in the works for a mass expedition for all the contacted clans.”
“Good.” Raine nodded. “And about time. I for one would definitely love to know about what the Shadows are up to.”
And maybe capture another one for myself, if I can.
“I do have a rather interesting question for you, however,” Linther said, raising one eyebrow at his prospective witch, now wrapped up in solid, russet fur robes. “I could have sworn two things. There was a Shadow that talked, and it appeared to walk directly out of your inn, acting quite familiar with you.”
“How close were you?” Raine said, aghast.
“Not close enough. I came from my encampment when I saw flames coming from your direction. Otherwise I might have done some more on the situation.” He glared at her, dark yellow eyes suspicious. “I don't suppose you have any explanations for the talking Shadow business?”
Raine shrugged, not wanting to admit she'd kept a Shadow in her cellar for years, draining it of blood to make super powered enchantments and to enhance her spells. Neither did she want to admit it was her mother's body being used. These happened to be the sort of things others might confuse good intentions with. “It was the first time I've heard a Shadow speak. I never knew they could before that.”
“I don't believe you,” Linther said. “The Shadow recognized you. And you recognized it.”
Raine sighed. She thought about the situation more. Technically, Linther carried her as a prisoner towards Lunehill with the sole purpose of integrating her there in the community, and to apprentice with the Snow Witch.
They needed better defenses. They needed to find out what in sun and moon was happening in the Fractured City.
They possibly needed her brand of magic.
“I'll tell you, but you're not going to like it.” Raine fished out the vial of Shadow blood from her backpack, half full, and showed it to him. “This thing is the source of my enhanced magic. Why I make such good enchantments, weapons and armor. Why my protections are strong.”
Linther scowled at the vial with the black ichor, before reaching over to turn the skinned snow rabbit over, the smell of burning flesh filling the atmosphere. “Go on.”
“Traditionally, to make good spells, you need werewolf blood or witch blood. But you need to sacrifice a werewolf to create a sword with permanent magic in it like this, for example.” Raine held up her sabre, which gleamed with an eerie gray light. “Because you need heartblood. Normal blood is only good for enchanting something for a short period of time.”
Something howled in the distance, mournful and high, which sent a tremor down Raine's spine. She shuffled closer to the fire, tucking the vial away in her backpack, hands shivering in the cold. She swiped off snowflakes catching on her gloves. Part of her didn't want to divulge the secret she treasured and experienced shame over. Part of her knew the chaos at the inn was her fault.
She should have destroyed the Shadow a long time ago. A little late for that now, since she lived in the consequence of her mistake.
“I kept a Shadow bound by strong protections for a long time in my inn. I extracted the black blood from it to see what it did for my spells, and... the magic was far more potent than anything I've seen. I stopped buying vials of werewolf blood, and using mine. Because that tiny little vial of ichor is the sole reason why my magic is so strong.”
She expected Linther to shy away and snap at her in revulsion. Indeed, his lips curled up in an echo of disgust, but he kept himself calm enough to say, “I've never heard of that happening before. And the Shadow talked?”
“Not for a while. Recently, it did. Never anything useful. Just curses, muttering at me, or mocking me.”
“Why share this?” Linther tested the rabbit, gently turning it to redden one last node of flesh.
“Because maybe your tribe might have a better time if you can capture one of the Shadows yourself, and use the blood. Instead of sacrificing witches and werewolves.”
Why not share the information, really?
Wasn't like she had anything to return to, anymore. They ate rabbit a short while later, and drank from water pouches, before attempting to settle down for some of the night. Without blankets, Raine shivered in the chill, until Linther morphed into his gray werewolf form and wrapped his huge body around her, allowing her to stay warm in his furry embrace.
She didn't sleep well, and didn't expect to. Images of the burning building sprung to mind. The leering face of the Shadow. The loss of the home she and her mother once worked in.
Raine focused a little on the mother she once loved. A woman with luminous hazel eyes, a lighter shade of brown, hinting at southern ancestry, and a firm confidence in running the frontier inn. Her father was a werewolf from the Dreadwood nomad clan, who dropped by the Blood Moon Inn every few months or so.
The other Dreadwood wolves who came to deliver the news that her father died heroically in battle at the age of six made her proud, rather than sad. They also gave Yara, her mother, her father's heartblood.
Yara did nothing else with it but keep it in a vial locket, and wore it around her neck, until the day the Shadows attacked her when on a pilgrimage to her father's resting place.
She recalled how her dying mother asked for the barrier, asked for Raine to study her body after she died, because she could feel the Shadow creeping over her mind.
These memories washed away in a blaze of fire, and Linther leaping to her side, hackles raised, snapping at the Shadows as she clambered onto his back, the flames giving his fur a reddish tint. The Shadow that talked did not seem perturbed by the rescue. It really didn't care if she lived or died.
Accepting her life was over might be the hardest thing to do.