34. Catriona

34

CATRIONA

" W hat are you doing with my cart and donkey?" Cyril asks when Felix leaves, though he looks like he's in too much pain to truly care.

"We're taking you back to the village. You'll stay with us until Bruno says you're healed."

He sits up, his eyes slitted and a grimace on his face. "I'm not a child."

"No, but you want to join GHOST, don't you? We take care of each other. Don't argue with me."

It looks like he's having trouble focusing on my face, but I can see the raw want there—the need to belong to something, to have a family.

"All right," he says.

I sit in his chair while we wait for Felix, taking in his home. It looks like a fort an adolescent might construct and smells like dirt and death. I can't imagine anyone living here. Though I want to ask him questions, I stay quiet, knowing that's what he needs right now.

"Do you think I'll ever come back here?" Cyril asks after a while.

I turn to look at him, finding his eyes still closed. "We're not abducting you. Of course, you'll come back."

"I might sell the property. That should give me enough for training, don't you think?"

"More than enough. But you don't need to sell your family's land to join GHOST. Let's talk to Lord Cunningham before you do anything rash."

"I won't come back here." He says the words like a vow. "Not after I leave."

Felix steps inside, saving me from answering. "The wagon is ready."

"Sit up," I say to Cyril, taking his lumpy pillow.

After we make the back of the wagon as cozy as possible with the pillow and several heavy furs, Felix helps the young man walk outside.

"Don't forget my satchel," Cyril says. "It has the spring water in it." Unsteady, he climbs into the back and lies down, shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight.

Once he's settled and I've retrieved the satchel, I join Felix in the front.

"Do you know how to drive a wagon?" I ask.

Felix clucks his tongue and gives the reins a shake, and the donkey takes off at a slow plod. "I learned in Galbreah."

"You learned all sorts of things in Galbreah."

"I did."

We go slowly, trying to make the ride as comfortable for Cyril as possible, but it's difficult when there are so many ruts and rocks in the road. He groans occasionally, muttering his displeasure.

We're all relieved when we reach the festival grounds where the road smooths out.

People mill around everywhere, slowly moving for the wagon as we pass. Felix mutters under his breath, not as jolly about the festivities as I would expect. Perhaps if we were here under different circumstances, he'd enjoy it…or maybe if we'd gotten more sleep.

Finally, Felix stops the wagon in front of the shop.

Atticus stands in the open doorway, speaking with a young woman with brunette hair and a pretty smile. Judging from her starry-eyed expression, she's besotted with the handsome hunter—which is nothing new.

They turn their attention to us as we help Cyril inside.

"Who's this?" Atticus comes to assist us and hoists Cyril onto his feet. The poor boy looks tiny next to the golden hunter.

"I can walk," Cyril mutters, wincing in the light.

"He's a new recruit," Felix answers.

Atticus frowns down at him. "He looks a little worse for wear."

"He was attacked by redcaps last night," Felix says. "They smacked him over the head and dragged him off. Luckily, Greg scared them away before they started eating him."

"Congratulations on surviving one of the lowliest nuisance monsters around," Atticus says.

Cyril peers up at him and deadpans, "Thanks?"

"All right, squire, let's get you inside." Atticus practically carries Cyril up the stairs.

Beside me, Felix crosses his arms. "Poor boy. Maybe he would have been better off in his shack."

Laughing, I fetch Cyril's satchel from the back of the wagon and then set it on the seat, studying the jars of water we filled yesterday. It looks exactly as you'd expect spring water to look—clear, with a bit of sediment settled at the bottom.

Felix joins me, experimentally dabbing his finger into the liquid.

"Well?" I ask him.

"It feels like water."

"Does it sting at all?"

"No."

"If Ambrose and Atticus didn't see Frida painting her statuettes with it, I think I might be inclined to believe Cyril dreamed the whole thing."

He nods, turning toward the general goods store when we hear Friedrich call, "Felix, Catriona, hello!"

Johann steps out of his shop with the baker and Jane. My eyes snare on her, the last person on our list.

Did she attack Millie in the woods? Is she our wolf?

The trio pauses when they see us, their eyes traveling over our clothing and weapons. Jane's lips part in surprise, and she brings a hand to her mouth to hide her astonishment.

"What…" Friedrich shakes his head, unable to comprehend the situation. "Why…?"

"Remember the monster hunters Luther said the Alliance would send if they felt your village was in danger?" I say, deciding to get this over with. "That would be us."

Jane's eyes go wide, and she takes a step back.

Friedrich just looks bemused. "So, you're not…a clockmaker?"

"I am not," Felix answers.

From the corner of my eye, movement catches my attention. The street is busy, but someone pauses. I turn, finding Belinda watching us from across the stream.

She gives me a wave when our eyes meet and then crosses the bridge and makes her way to us. Her eyes sweep over us, but she doesn't look particularly surprised by our new attire. Smiling, she asks, "What's this? Are you entering the children's costume event?"

"Catriona and Felix are supposedly hunters." Jane shifts to Belinda's side. "Apparently, the Alliance sent them."

"To be honest, Bruno already told me," Belinda says conspiratorially, lowering her voice to a faux whisper. "Last night, when he and Arnold brought Millie home, he said you saved my sister from the werewolf. I wasn't supposed to say anything, but it seems you've decided to come clean."

I focus on Jane. "We're hoping to lure the wolf out."

The schoolteacher fidgets, looking uncomfortable. I glance at the jar of spring water Felix still holds in his hands, wondering.

"Do you know who the wolf might be?" Belinda casts nervous glances down the street like she's worried the monster could appear at any time. "I cannot help but suspect Millie is right, and it's Cyril. He's been especially suspicious lately. I swear he's stalking people."

"You've noticed that, too?" Jane whispers. "I think he's been following me."

"We have an idea, but it's not Cyril," Felix says.

"It's someone who had to hide during the full moon," I say. "Someone who wasn't present during any of the attacks. Someone who was absent from the village for a long time." Jane shifts, uncomfortable under my sharp gaze. "Someone like…"

"Yes?" Friedrich frowns, waiting for me to continue. "Someone like who?"

"There's really only one person who fits that description," I say.

"Out with it," Johann demands.

"Jane." Making a rash decision, I snatch the jar of water from Felix and splash it directly in the schoolteacher's face.

The woman gasps, as startled as the men beside her…but nowhere near as shocked as Belinda, who was standing close enough to get drenched too.

She drops to a crouch, hands on the ground, the water sizzling and steaming on her skin. She lets out an inhuman hiss, baring her inhuman teeth, and then takes off at a run, still in her human form but unnaturally fast.

Before I can process the situation, I take off after her, but she got a head start. With Felix right behind me, I shove through the crowd, stopped every two seconds by people who shift in my way.

"MOVE!" I yell, frustrated.

Once we arrive in the field outside the orchard, the crowds thin somewhat, as there's more room for people to loiter here.

But Belinda is gone.

Breathing hard, I set my hands on my sides and scan the festival grounds. I swear under my breath, so angry that we lost her.

"It's Belinda," Felix says dumbly, trying to catch his breath after the sprint down the street. "How…how doesn't Millie know her sister is a wolf?"

"How didn't we realize she was a wolf?"

"You said it's always the last person you expect."

"She was so timid, though." I huff out a breath. "We have to find her."

"Perhaps we should warn the village first?"

"Johann saw her snarl at us. So did Friedrich and Jane."

Felix gives me an amused look. "I'm not sure Jane saw anything with all that water in her eyes."

I wince. "That didn't go as planned."

"I don't know. You accomplished exactly what you meant to. You just had the wrong woman."

"Greg!" I yell, not caring if the people around us think I'm talking to myself.

" What ?" The dragon sounds groggy, like I woke him from a nap or interrupted a relaxing soak in his hot spring.

"The wolf is Belinda, Millie's sister. Have you ever seen her?"

" No. What does she look like? "

"Short, slight, and brunette," Felix answers.

"But she'll probably choose a different shape now," I say, frustrated, realizing if she does, we'll never find her—not with all these tourists in the village.

"Can she do that?" Felix asks, startled.

"Yes, though I'm not sure how long it takes to perfect a new body. She'll probably resemble Belinda for a while, even if she changes her hair color or build."

"Watch the woods, Greg," Felix commands.

" You want me to fly midday? " he asks.

"No, just…prowl around a bit."

" Like a dog ? "

"Like a dragon who can't fly in the middle of the day because he'll give himself away!" I exclaim.

He grumbles, not liking the idea, but finally grunts, agreeing.

Felix and I head back toward the shop, pushing through the merry crowd.

"What happened?" Johann demands when he spots us. Friedrich and Jane are gone.

I walk up the steps to our shop, frustrated. "We lost her in the crowd."

Johann follows us. "Am I understanding this correctly— Belinda is the werewolf?"

"Yes." I stride through the packed store, baffled that so many people want to browse the clocks. "Go—tell Otis, spread the word. Someone needs to find Millie, too. It's not safe for her to be home alone."

Johann nods. "I'll tell Otis, and then I'll find her."

He leaves as I round the counter. Atticus watches me, raising his brows when I stop in front of him. "Did something happen?"

"We found the werewolf, but she got away again. We need to look for her. You in?"

He gives me a lazy grin. "That depends—are you splitting the pay?"

"Benjamin sent you up here. Isn't he paying you already?"

Atticus shrugs.

"Fine." I roll my eyes. "You can have twenty-five percent no matter who kills it. Fifty if it's you or Ambrose."

The hunter extends his hand. "Deal, but we get Victor."

"No deal—that skews the odds in your favor. Leave Victor with me and go home."

"Fine. You may take Victor." He grins. "I'll still win."

"Is this a competition?"

"It always is. And forget the money—I have a better idea."

I narrow my eyes at the too-handsome hunter. "What?"

"If either Ambrose or I kills the wolf, you have to take the next bog monster Benjamin assigns to me."

"Absolutely not. He saddles you with bog monsters all the time. Besides, what will Ambrose get out of it?"

"Buy him some of that nasty tea he likes."

"I heard that," Ambrose says near the closest clock shelf.

"Fine," I agree, even though I know good and well Ambrose's tea will cost more than fifty percent of the pay for this job.

Atticus shakes my hand smugly, sealing the deal, and then he scans the patrons loitering in the shop. "Now, how do we get rid of all these people?"

It takes a good fifteen minutes to usher everyone out. Victor watches them leave from his spot on the rug in the corner, his eyes mopey. He's a smart dog. He probably realizes we're going to make him work.

"What about Cyril?" Ambrose asks once we're alone.

I look around, realizing I don't know what Atticus did with him. "Where is he?"

"Sleeping upstairs."

"He'll be all right," Felix says. "We'll lock up the place, and no one will bother him."

The four of us leave the shop. Ambrose and Atticus cross the bridge and continue to the western orchards, but we have a stop to make before we head east.

Victor walks down the street with us, his short little legs plodding along as fast as they will go, his ears so long they almost brush the ground.

When we enter the bookshop, Mr. Martin looks over from a shelf, frowning at the basset hound. "You can't bring him in here."

"This will only take a moment," I say.

His frown deepens to a scowl, but he gives us a sharp nod. "All right, but make it quick. What do you need—and why are you dressed like that?"

We rush through the spiel—who we are and where we're from. He listens, growing increasingly incredulous.

Keeping my voice low, I finish, "Belinda is the werewolf. We must find her."

He snorts out a laugh like he thinks I'm joking…and then goes sober when he realizes I'm not. "You can't be serious."

"If I didn't see it with my own eyes, I'd have trouble believing it myself." I motion toward Victor. "He can't sniff out a werewolf in their human form if he's never smelled them before."

"What do you need?"

"Something of Belinda's. Has she left anything here that we could take?"

"I'm not going to help you track Belinda without proof. For all I know, you're the werewolf."

This isn't going well. But, honestly, it's not any worse than I expected.

"If you're so certain, why don't you ask Millie?" he says.

"I don't imagine that's the best way to break the news to her, do you?"

He pulls off his spectacles and wipes them with a white cloth, shaking his head. Finally, he slides them back on and sighs. "You said Johann was with you? Friedrich, too? If one of them can confirm this outlandish story…I'll help you."

Felix and I leave the shop, no closer to finding Belinda than we were when we entered.

"We best see if we can find Johann," Felix says.

"At this rate, Atticus is going to find Belinda first," I grumble, hurrying down the street, growing even more annoyed with all the festival attendees.

"Does that really matter?" he asks.

"If he or Ambrose takes her out, we must take his next bog monster job."

Felix chuckles, more amused by that than I expect. "Then we best find Johann quickly."