Chapter Twenty-Five

Strength from Within

Cresting Tide

Maura watched Dàn fall as the bullet ripped through him. She screamed and ran toward him but stumbled and fell on Ella's porch steps. How the hell had she gotten there?

"Damn you Dàn!" Maura called. She sagged across the steps, and Sandulfr laid a sympathetic hand to her shoulder. She shrugged free of his grip and wiped tears from her eyes. Maura started back in the direction of the meeting place on foot. Their van was still at the park.

Had her future with Dàn already ended? Were memories of his death all she would have of him, either in her prophecies or in her presence?

Maura shook off her dark thoughts, although she feared what she would find.

* * *

Athair pushed Leth aside, but not fast enough. He felt the impact of the bullet as it tore through Leth's shoulder. Two of their cars were only a few feet away, so Athair used one for cover. He watched Rath drag Dàn behind the other. Dàn must have been shot as well.

With a groan, Leth slouched against the side of the car. Athair pulled his vest aside and examined his wound. Leth struggled to sit up, but only succeeding in obscuring the injury.

"Sit still, Leth," Athair ordered.

Leth's pain filled eyes met Athair's gaze. Athair nearly laughed. Although Leth was obviously in pain, his anger made him struggle against Athair's aid. Now that he was still, Athair got a good look at the wound. The bullet had gone clean through, and Leth was already beginning to heal. Athair concentrated his own healing energy to help speed up Leth's recovery. Within a few minutes, both the entrance and exit wounds were closed, leaving only the fading scars and drops of splattered blood as proof of his injury.

* * *

Hope found herself sitting in the driver's seat of the Bug. One moment she was about to be shot, and the next she sat here with her heart pounding about a million miles an hour.

How had she gotten here? Why? What happened to Athair? What about everyone else?

She started the car with the spare set of keys she kept in the glove box and backed out of the already open garage. Then she spotted Sandulfr and Maura beside the porch. Granny was coming down the steps, carrying a staff.

"Get in," Hope yelled as she pulled close and stopped to let them climb in. It was a squeeze, but within moments she had the car tearing down the road to the park.

Granny sat beside Hope and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. She said nothing, but she felt Granny's fear. She too had seen Dàn fall under the gunfire. She was afraid to ask how they had all wound up back at the house. Or what they would find on their return.

"Oh shit." The words slipped quietly from Hope as she saw the isolated storm over the park. Her hand shook as she shifted gears to make the turn, but she only slowed enough to hold onto the road.

* * *

"You'll pay for that one," Sgrios growled.

"Like I paid for the last time?" Bequlf taunted Sgrios with words while teasing him by stepping close, only to have one of the others hit him from behind.

"You paid with the lives of your men that day, but the price will be your own today. Which of these will be lost with you?"

"I wouldn't bet on anyone of mine dying." They circled warily around each other, while Bequlf's men took pot shots at Sgrios with each turn.

"Do you want to die as a man, or an animal?" Sgrios shrugged off a poorly thrown punch aimed at his back, and never took his eyes from his true opponent. Bequlf would want the glory of defeating him, Sgrios intended to use his arrogance as a weapon.

"Since I will not be the one to die, maybe you should answer that question." Bequlf held his knife in one hand and swiped lazily at Sgrios.

"You value the strength of your men too much." His talk and toying were all a distraction. Sgrios was ready to move on to the main event. "They'll not be able to save you from justice."

"They do not face you. I do."

"So, this is private?" Sgrios knew the fool would jump at the chance to fight him one on one. But surely even Bequlf had better sense than that. Or at least, he should have better sense. "I thought you needed your little helpers to feel safe?"

Bequlf snarled.

Shifting forms, he pounced, dragging Bequlf several feet. Then he leapt off Bequlf and darted into the woods.

Just as he'd hoped, Bequlf followed. But his minions were distracted by Sundair leading the others, intending to apprehend them.

Sgrios led Bequlf deep into the forest to be sure they wouldn't be interrupted. Then he turned and attacked. Both as wolves, they fought viciously. But neither was able to put down the other. When Bequlf flashed to human form and pulled his long knife, Sgrios countered that move with his own matched blades.

Sgrios dodged a slash to his chest and faked a blow toward Bequlf's upper body. His other blade cut a deep gash in Bequlf's leg.

Bequlf shifted back to wolf form and ran for a side path and perhaps a chance at survival. For Sgrios had no intention of letting him live to reach trial. He was guilty of too many crimes yet had many supporters who would recommend leniency.

* * *

Athair helped Leth to sit up as his strength slowly returned. Leth was pale but steaming mad as well. Both crouched to get a better view of what was happening. Leth fingered his deadly knives. When he would have leapt from behind the car to jump back into the battle, Athair restrained him a moment longer.

"We will be aiding Sgrios, will we not?" Leth challenged.

"Of course we will. But we will also go in with a plan," Athair tried to explain.

"What plan? I didn't come here to watch him die." As if Athair would ever ask Leth to watch his father die.

"I know you didn't, but I won't let either of us get in his way, either." Athair scanned the scene and what he found was not too discouraging. "Your father has done as I expected and taken Bequlf from the battle. Now we must rally the others and catch Bequlf's supporters before they decide to flee."

* * *

Sgrios stalked him along the path. The fool probably thought to set some trap. Bequlf should know better than to continue the fight on even ground.

Crash! Some large animal pounded toward him through the low brush. Sgrios barely jumped out of the way as a paint pony lunged from the undergrowth, onto the path. Wild-eyed with terror, the pony stood trembling. Its small ears flicked forward at Sgrios, then back before it turned and pushed back into the brush. There on the pony's flank Sgrios saw the long gouges of a wolf bite. And then the reason for the empty saddle sank in.

Bequlf had a hostage.

Sgrios rushed to follow the pony as it retraced the track it had just run. When it slowed, he pushed past it and continued on the visible trail. There stood Bequlf, with a small girl held in front of him like a shield. As if traumatizing a child would gain him freedom.

"Let her go." Sgrios met the girl's wide, scared eyes. Bequlf hadn't even bothered to control her mind.

"She goes when I go," Bequlf growled over the child's head.

"She'll be your downfall, not your freedom."

The girl whimpered against Bequlf's palm and twisted, trying to pull away. Her eyes begged Sgrios for mercy. Mercy he no longer had to give.

"Throw down your blades," Bequlf demanded, thinking that would give him a better chance.

Sgrios threw his knives to the side and moved a step closer to Bequlf. He had no need for the blades. His emotions, like his other weapons, were still well concealed. He let Bequlf think he had the upper hand while waiting for the best time to strike.

"See? That wasn't so hard. And I thought you'd be hard to beat." The girl looked up, but not in defeat. She was actually angry that he had given in to Bequlf so easily!

Sgrios said nothing but shifted his feet and inched closer.

"Don't take it too badly. We all have a weakness."

For once, Bequlf was right. Each man did have a weakness, and it was the fastest way to defeat. But he was wrong in thinking Sgrios wouldn't risk the life of a child. She was only a useful distraction. Another tool in their current battle.

"I have often felt you belonged more with us than against us. You would do well to use your powers to seek pleasure, instead of barely scraping by in this life."

Now that offer was unexpected. The scum actually thought he might join them. And the choice did have its appeal. To be able to kill and pillage his way through this world. To be without judgment or guilt. But it was far too late for him to ever be free of guilt. It was true he had few qualms about killing, but he still held honor, or the pale remnants of his honor. He clung desperately to that tiny piece of his heart that was still uncorrupted.

But Bequlf didn't understand that. Few could. Bequlf took his hesitation as consideration and stepped closer, loosening his grip on the girl. "Think of it! We could be unstoppable. Together, we could lay whole towns to waste."

Sgrios laughed. "Been there. Done that. Taught the class." The girl closed her eyes to shut him out. She obviously thought he was joining Bequlf.

With a show of mettle, she bit down on Bequlf's hand and shoved herself free, stumbling down the path and screaming for help. She fell but kept crawling away.

Sgrios was impressed by the girl's spirit. He leapt at Bequlf and knocked him to the ground. Bequlf's knife was torn from his hand as they struggled for leverage. Just as Sgrios grabbed one hand, Bequlf reached one of the discarded blades. The knife tore upwards between his ribs with a horrible, ripping pop.

Sgrios pinned Bequlf against the hard packed dirt of the trail and freed his long bottled emotions. All his pain, anger, and guilt. Then his sadness, loneliness, and grief poured out. Last was the most terrible, his lack of purpose, and the barren emptiness that was his existence.

No one could handle the severe emotional load he carried. Not even one with all of Bequlf's depravities.

Sgrios stood slowly, staring down at the man he could have become. Bequlf lay unconscious, covered in his and Sgrios' blood, but physically unharmed.

The girl would need tending. She would have caught some of the barrage of emotion as well. He found her braced against the side of a thick tree. Her paint pony had returned and stood quivering over her motionless body. He crouched next to her and laid his bloody palm to her forehead, pulling the wild magic back and easing her awake.

She gasped and jerked away from his touch. "Please, don't hurt me," she said, but she didn't try to run. Then he remembered she hadn't been able to earlier.

"I won't hurt you." He looked her over for injuries and saw that her ankle was twisted at an odd angle. "I can help your leg if you'll let me. Will you?"

She nodded. "You stopped him, didn't you?"

"You helped me." He slid her pant leg out of the way and gently healed her ankle. It had been broken, not just sprained. "You were very courageous."

"No, I wasn't. I was afraid."

"It's okay to be afraid. You're brave because you acted despite your fear."

Her gaze followed a drop of blood running down his side. "You're hurt, too."

"Not too bad," he said, regardless of the amount of blood he had lost from the serious stab wound. He had been hurt worse and still lived. More the pity. He would survive this as well.

Her pony stiffened and the girl's eyes widened. "Watch out!" she cried.

* * *

Rath dragged Dàn behind the car and began searching for his gunshot wound. "Damn it Dàn, when will you ever learn to duck? You have no self-preservation skills at all. I'm beginning to think that watching your back is a full time job. You'd better hope I never decide I've paid you back enough. What would you do then? I'll tell you. You'd get yourself killed in the first thirty seconds."

Where in hell had he been hit? Rath ripped open Dàn's shirt, searching for what surely must have been a mortal wound while he continued to rant.

"Duck. That's all I'm saying. Duck. You protect everyone else and forget to duck. I know you have the ability to shield if ducking is beneath your dignity, but you don't bother to do that either."

The strange red mist covered Dàn's chest so thickly Rath couldn't see the entry wound. Damned mist. He reached into it, feeling for the injury.

"I mean, how many times can you die, anyway? You're a wolf, not a cat! Sooner or later, it will be the real deal, the end. Is that your plan? Have you lived long enough? The least you can do is not get yourself killed when I have to watch. I'm not squeamish about much, but I don't want to have to keep watching you get splattered all over the place."

The mist crackled around his hands but didn't burn him as it had before. Still, he could find no wound. Certainly, anything that could knock Dàn from his feet would leave a pretty large hole. But where?

"And in the name of Loki, if you are not going to duck, at least you could have the kind of injury that I can find and heal. Why are you not breathing? You're just laying here. You're starting to really piss me off!"

* * *

Athair searched for men still loyal to Sandulfr. Sundair was fighting hand to hand with one man, two were behind a table unsure of what to do, and the last had been caught.

They needed to all work together. "Leth, go get those two and free the one who's being held over there. I will help Sundair secure this side."

"Fine. Here. Take my spare knife." He held it out.

"No thanks." Athair shook his head. "You're better with it than I am. I have my own ways."

"I remember!" Leth laughed. Then he moved swiftly across the park to the two who needed encouragement.

Athair raced to Sundair's side, where the alpha's son had knocked one man unconscious, but now faced two others. Athair grabbed one opponent from behind and surged his own special skill into use. The man slouched in his arms. His own personal weapon was a lullaby spell. One he felt fortunate to have found and had used often over the years, though rarely in this manner.