Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

The woods I once knew like a friend have now become an enemy. A sinister aura hangs from every branch and lurks behind every tree trunk. It's all made worse by the iron scent of blood.

Folost swivels around the top of my makeshift torch. I do not question and simply follow wherever he points, trusting him to lead me to Aurora.

Would I know if it was Aurora whose blood was spilled? I had not been able to sense Folost and Mary in the flames. But they are much smaller spirits than Aurora. Weaker. Not that I'd say as much to them.

I would know if she were hurt, I insist to myself. She was the first spirit I ever bound on my own and she only asked one thing of me—to keep her safe. And what did I do? I failed.

The memory of the silver charm, dangling harmlessly by the handle as I left, is so sharp that I nearly stumble. It is as though my own mind has punched me in the stomach with a vision so clear, so brutal…

The barriers on the house weren't fully in place.

Had I woken her and asked her to replace it, then maybe they wouldn't have been able to sense her. Maybe, in my time of mourning, I had neglected the barriers on the woods enough that the ribbons burned and frayed easier than they should have. It's because of me that they could get her.

I must rescue her at all costs.

It isn't long before Folost guides me off the main path that leads to the great redwood and I am instead trudging through brush and bramble in a section of the woods I've never been before. Mary does a good job of helping keep the thorniest bits of foliage away from me by communing with the other flora around us.

Her words, as I presume them to be, are more like a soft humming that pulses across my senses. Her magic is as gentle as a nighttime breeze. And, in response, the small branches bend as they're able before rustling softly back into place.

I've never sensed her so keenly before. Part of me wonders if I simply hadn't paid her enough attention, but I don't think that's the case. I have always attended her and Folost with the most care I can give. These heightened senses must be from Aurora's magic.

Should I feel guilty for leveraging powers she never intended to give? Aurora made it clear that she did not want to be used by others… I run a hand over my stomach, trying to quell its uneasiness. If I am to use her power, then getting her back and keeping her safe would be what she'd want me to use it for, I think. I hope. Still, it'll be something I ask her forgiveness for later.

We make our way through the dense woods for what feels like hours. How much time has actually passed? I could not say.

Without warning, Folost goes dim and the brush ahead of me thickens unnaturally—like a barrier forming to block my path. Instinctively, I crouch down, keeping myself low to the ground and drawing my cloak tighter around me. If we are actually close to the lykin, I'll need all the protection I can get from their keen senses. Folost is nothing more than a little ember smoldering atop the fragment of brick from his hearth. But the tiny blue-white flames ripple in the direction of the thicker brush.

I glance between the two of them.

Mary understands my unspoken question and tiny marigold blossoms pop up from the mossy, wet earth despite it being nowhere near close to their season. They dot the moss ahead of me, stretching underneath the thickened brush. Ahead, but slowly , is the message I get from them both and the living woods around me.

I dig the bottom of my makeshift torch into the soil between two roots and rest the torch itself against a nearby tree, trusting my little fiery friend not to singe the bark. Folost pulls himself forward to the front of the stone. Flickering and barely visible. I set Mary next to him.

"I'll come back for you both," I mouth more than whisper.

Two golden eyes meet mine. A single blink, even though it was not a yes or no question. He understands and believes what I say. Mary sags and straightens, almost like a bow. The two spirits know I will not abandon them, which means they also believe I can accomplish what must be done. Their confidence is the reassurance I need.

With it tucked against my heart, I continue on through the thicket.

I'm on my stomach, moving with the grace of an inchworm. Even though she is not with me, Mary continues to guide my path with tiny red blossoms blooming before me. Almost through the thick brush, I see a flicker of orange light.

I move even slower, pressing myself as flat as possible. I take mud and moss, smearing it on my face—pressing it into my nose. My cloak might protect me from the lykin's magical senses but they still have keen smell and hearing. The last thing I want is for them to pick up the smell of my nervous sweat.

Finally, I reach the edge of the brush and get my first glimpse of Aurora's captors.

My suspicions were right: two lykin. They take the form of men at present. One of them is wiry, all lean muscle and scars that line his exposed arms and run underneath his hair-covered chest. I presume there to be some on his face, as well, but I can't see them through the thick, copper beard that covers his features from his ears down. He has a head of extremely short-cropped, rusty hair—not unlike mine—however his is dusted with silver.

The other man is younger than the first, roughly the same as my twenty-two years, if I had to guess. He is thick with muscles; biceps bulge and dip, angles as sharp as the grooves carved into his stomach that disappear into a pair of tight black trousers. The only other clothing he wears are a pair of worn, black boots and a thick leather band on his right wrist. The muscles in his back fan out like tucked wings when he puts his hands on his hips. He looks like he could snap me in two with little effort. An assessment that is further emphasized by his dark, furrowed brows and the way strands of black hair fall into his face, shadowing his glower.

Even though he is the younger of the two, something about him feels distinctly more…kingly to me. If I was forced to guess which of these men was the larger of the three wolves I saw last night, it would be the younger. But that does beg the question, what happened to the third wolf?

Aurora is bound and seated by the fire. Her hands are affixed behind her back and I see a line of rope tying her to a nearby tree so she can't run. A trail of red runs down her face from a wound at her hairline, dripping into her lap. Other cuts and bruises dot her arms. My realization from last night returns—it is an unimaginably cruel fate to be immortal, but able to feel pain as if you were not.

"You were too rough with her," the younger man snarls at his counterpart. He speaks with the deepest resonance I've ever heard.

"You should listen to Evander," Aurora says to the older man. "Conri's going to be cross with you when he finds out how you've treated me."

"Conri won't find out." The wiry man stomps to loom over Aurora. There's the air of violence around him that makes even me shiver. "I've seen how quickly you can mend. You'll be as pure as starlight by the time we get you back to your king. Won't you?"

Aurora purses her lips and narrows her eyes, saying nothing.

"I asked you a question, spirit." The smaller man grabs Aurora's face, jerking it in his direction, extending her neck painfully.

I bite my cheeks to keep from shouting out. My nails dig into my palms, knuckles white. I can't help Aurora if I'm caught as well or, worse, killed. The best thing I can do is bide my time and help her escape the first moment I can.

Aurora still says nothing.

"Now tell us where the ring is," he demands.

"I told you, I don't have it anymore." Aurora stares up at him with the slightest bit of smugness. "And you'll never find it, either. A wolf king will never again hold my power."

"How dare—Your absence has almost caused the loss of a generation of pups and a new age of bloodshed, yet you sit there with your obnoxious little smile, as if you're all too pleased for it—as if you can abandon your duty. You serve us."

"Were I a servant, I might at least be offered a modicum of respect. No, your wicked kings have made me a slave," Aurora says with more venom and hate and pain than I had thought possible from her. A deep sorrow courses through me. "But I will be free. One way or another. Damn the lykin."

The man raises his other hand as a fist. "How dare you?—"

"Enough, Bardulf." The younger man, Evander, catches the older's wrist. I see Bardulf straining against him, but he's not nearly strong enough to shake Evander's grip.

"You want to tussle again?"

Evander ignores the challenge. "Go for a run and sweat out your rage. She's riling you up so you can't think clearly."

Bardulf wrests his hand free with a grunt and stomps off in the direction opposite of me—thank the old gods. He murmurs the entire time, all hateful things about Aurora.

Neither of the two moves for a long minute.

Finally, Aurora speaks. "What was the point?" The question is pain and anger.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Evander shifts his stance, looking down at Aurora.

"Were you just toying with me?" She glares up at him. "Some kind of sick thrill to go on the hunt?"

Evander says nothing. He won't even look at her. Aurora spits at his feet.

"You're just like the rest of his pack, twisted and disgusting. You're nothing more than a pup with a tail between your legs the moment it gets tough."

"Take caution not to speak to a knight of the king with such disdain," he says coolly. "When we return to Midscape and are around Conri again, I won't be able to allow it to slide."

It's become clear to me that neither Evander nor Bardulf is the wolf king. The man named Conri seems to be. I breathe a little easier given the way they speak of him. It doesn't sound like he's close by.

"No? Your rebellious streak ended with me?"

"Aurora—" He sighs heavily. "You know what happens when we cross him."

"I do not care about the king. He is not my king—need I remind you, he is not yours, either, Evander. He killed?—"

"Watch your tongue."

"Or what? You'll strike me like Bardulf?" The words are almost a challenge. One I'm pleased to see that Evander doesn't rise to.

"No matter how we feel, we are forever bound to him by our oaths."

"Do not speak to me of deals and promises and oaths." Aurora is on her feet. She strains against the rope holding her to the tree. Evander continues to linger, just beyond her reach, as her eyes dig daggers into him. "I have kept oaths from long before your parents were even pups, suckling at their mothers' teats. So I will not be reminded by a man-child of what oaths I must and must not keep." Her voice is as cold as the darkest winter's night.

Evander continues to stand as tall and strong as a stone wall against her. But eventually he walks away without another word, sitting on the opposite side of the fire. As he approaches, I see his cheek by his eye is bruised and I hope Aurora put up a fight when they tried to take her.

With his back to me, I now can see massive scars that run between Evander's shoulder blades, as though a wolf took its two front paws and dragged its claws across him. They're deep grooves with raised sides. Gnarled. Painful to even look at. Whatever, or whoever, did that to him was vicious, indeed.

"We should get rest while we can," he murmurs. Aurora doesn't even bother to look at him. Evander nestles himself into the moss and, soon, his breathing slows into a steady cadence.

I take my opportunity but I don't rush. Haste will make noise and there's still Bardulf out there. With any luck, however, Evander will fall into a deep sleep and Bardulf will spend the night chasing the growing moon in the opposite direction from me.

Folost and Mary are waiting where I left them and I quickly collect both.

"I need you to burn through a rope," I whisper to Folost. It'd take me far too long to cut through it with my knife. But Folost can get through it in a few seconds if he's determined enough.

A blink in the tiny flame.

"Thank you." We're off through the woods, moving in a wide arc around the clearing with Aurora. Every step is agonizingly slow. But I persist at my steady pace. When Folost makes a sudden deviation on his stone, I turn sharply and push past a low bush to find myself at the edge of the clearing behind Aurora.

Her back is now to me, so I can't see if she's awake or if she took Evander's advice and tried to sleep. I guess it's the former, just from her resistance to them so far. I grab the rope affixed to the tree and give a light tug.

Aurora's head whips around. Her brow instantly relaxes upon seeing me at the edge of the trees. Her lips part slightly and then ease into a relieved smile.

I give her a nod and move the torch to the rope. Folost wastes no time, making a ring of fire around the thick cord. He burns white hot, but small. All the while I keep my eyes on Evander. It's hard to make out his features between the night and the stark brightness of the flames. But if he had woken, I think he would've made a motion for me. There's no way he wouldn't be able to see me. Just once, I think I see him twist. But he shifts and settles again.

Just a little bit more… I will Folost to move faster. The rope is fraying; he's down to its core. Then…

Snap. The rope sags. Aurora is free.

She spares one look at Evander before slinking back toward me. I move backward, giving her space. As she plunges into the shadows, she gives me a nod. One I return.

We don't even waste time on the bindings around her wrists, we're off.

I trust Folost to guide us back to the main path without need of instruction. He's a clever little spirit and I'm sure he knows where we need to go. Once we get back to?—

The thought causes me to stumble, nearly toppling over. Aurora pushes her shoulder into me, steadying me. She glances my way. I shake my head and carry on.

The house is gone. Where will we go? Where is safe, if the lykin are willing to leave the woods?

We'll go southwest. Far from the Lykin Woods. We'll travel as far as we need to find a safe place to rest. Then we'll keep moving until we can find a way to return Aurora's power to her. After that, when the time is right, we'll rebuild.

A house is just timber and clay, even one as magical as mine was… I have my life, and my spirits. So long as that is true, we'll be all right.

The main path is nearly in view when a rustle of leaves at our left alerts me to the presence of another. I barely have time to look in that direction before a massive, copper wolf lunges at me through the darkness.