Moon Rise (Twilight Shifters Book 2) (2 page)

And Aein could not help the unbidden thought from entering her mind... it was a price paid for something she had done.  As she and Lars bowed their heads and backed out of the room, she wondered if this mission was her penance.  None of this would have happened if she had left the mushrooms in the swamp.  She owed it to every surviving man, woman, and child to stop the bleeding, no matter what the personal cost. 

As soon as the doors shut in front of them, Aein and Lars stood.  No longer in the queen's presence, they turned and walked away, through the empty petition rooms and out into a small courtyard.  The walls were windowless.  The walkway of the battlement above was empty.  With no one watching, Lars closed his eyes, placed his palms upon the plastered stone, and pressed hard.

"We have to go back," he said.  His face was haunted.

A
heavy, dappled war horse passed through the dusty bailey to the stables.  The plated-steel armor over his head and neck rattled with every step.  Aein stepped out of the way.  The sky was turning from blue to yellow and Lars was giving his last instructions before the dark stole his human form.  The single tower of the Haidra castle rose behind them. 

"Talk to Finn," he said.  "I am sure he knows everything already, but... make sure he understands what is going on, that he didn't forget... Not that he would.  But just in case..."

Aein understood the words he was stammering over.  He hoped Finn could stay their execution.  Finn knew what the swamp was like.  Perhaps if Aein personally made the appeal, Finn would speak for them and find a way to keep them here.  Lars reached over and grasped Aein's hand, giving it a desperate squeeze.

"I shall see you in the morning," Aein said quietly as the sun hit the horizon.

The hand in hers faded.  Fingertips were replaced by hard flesh, skin replaced with fur, and soon she held not a hand, but a paw.  The man beside her disappeared.  The only comfort was that the shift was no longer painful.  But as she gazed into the wolf's eyes, she saw her friend inside, trapped in a body he did not want.  He withdrew his paw and snorted. 

"I shall see you in the morning," Aein repeated again, stroking his shaggy head.

There was a familiarity they shared when he was a wolf that she never would have dared when he was human.  It felt natural to rest her hand upon his shoulders, to feel his body lean against her legs.  Some nights, they would even curl up by the fire like puppies in a pile.  But as humans... she thought back to that battle day when Lars had sworn his love to her.  The matter was never spoken of again.  Her energy had been devoted to healing and recovery these past months.  She wondered what would have happened if she had not been injured, where they would have been.  So much of her life was an amalgamation of "what-ifs."  What if she had not spotted those mushrooms?  What if she had not stopped to eat a berry?  What if she had stayed at the border with Lars?  Would he have killed her?  What if Cook Bolstad, the man who had been a father to her, had never sent her on this devil's errand...

Lars gave another sneeze and headed off to bed.  He did not like to be awake during his time as a wolf.  He preferred to spend the hours dreaming instead, where he could take any shape he wanted.

Aein turned back towards the castle and was surprised to find Finn resting against a doorway watching her.  He wore an indigo tunic over his chainmail.  His messy, blonde hair looked like he had rubbed his hands through it a few times after waking.  His beard never seemed to grow and was in a state of permanent stubble.  The only marked difference between the man he was today and the man she met not so many months ago was the long scar which ran across his face from forehead to cheek, left over from where he brushed against silver ore during transformation.

"How long have you been standing there?" she asked suspiciously.

He stood up, leaning towards her as if he was about to impart some great wisdom.  "If you hope to survive, you should instinctually know the answer to that question."

Aein laughed and rolled her eyes.  "What can I do for you?" she asked.

He fell in step beside her.  "I wondered if I might enjoy your company at dinner.  I have a proposal I would like to discuss."

His words caused her to pause.  There was something to his tone which made her realize this request was not being made in an entirely official capacity.  "Want to give me a hint?"

"Your journey to the border," replied Finn. "Dinner?"

"Absolutely," answered Aein.  "Allow me to change."

A bell tolled in the distance, signaling that the gates of the town were being closed for the night.  As Aein made her way to the barracks, she thought how the town around Lord Arnkell's fortress was not even organized enough to have a gate.  It was just a scattering of houses and shops.  She had thought his stronghold was the finest in the world before she came to the Haidra kingdom.  She wondered how Lord Arnkell thought attacking this place made sense.  All he had to do was marry Queen Gisla and it would have all been his.  It was such a waste.

Along the battlements of the castle, the flickering torches colored the darkness.  Along with the men who rotated in to take the watch, the shaggy figures of Aein's wolf army changed places.  Some of the humans preferred their lives as wolves.  Most of them were people whose human bodies ached from age and injury, but in wolf form were strong and whole again.  They slept while human and chose to serve whenever the shift came.  And then there were those like Lars who were ashamed of their shift, who hid in the shadows and waited for the earth's rotation to take away their four-legged prison. 

Aein leaned back her head.  The wind was picking up.  Storm clouds were rolling across the sky and not a single star lit the black.  The moon itself was a mere sliver, barely shedding any light.  Tomorrow would be the new moon and everything would be dark.  It would make traveling more difficult, but it would also mask them from prying eyes.  She hoped no one would notice or care that she and Lars were slipping away.

As Aein entered the building, her metal armor echoed loudly.  The barracks consisted of one long room.  A row of beds lined the wall in strict precision.  At the end of each was a wooden chest for personal belongings.  Aein unbuckled her breastplate and let it drop onto her mattress.  She stripped off her outer clothes and set them aside for the washerwoman, taking a fresh uniform out of her boot locker.  By one of the cots was a jug and basin.  She poured out a little water and wiped the day's dirt and sweat from her face. 

She nodded in greeting as several soldiers came into the room.  Their eyes were ringed with dark circles, and their cheeks were hollow, lacking any mirth.  The daily tension was taking its toll.  The guard knew this business with Lord Arnkell was not done.  They waited and watched the horizon, knowing the wave of war would crest, it was only a matter of when.  It was a self-imposed siege.

Aein ran her comb through her snarls and plaited her long, blonde hair into a single braid.  She put on her fresh things and strapped a dagger to her side.  Ever since the wedding feast, she never went anywhere without a silver knife.  She vowed she would not be taken again without warning.

She left the room and made her way down to the banqueting hall.  The high beamed ceiling was hazy from the fire pit's smoke.  The tables were full of men and women who had just come off duty.  Queen Gisla was nowhere to be seen.  She had taken to eating in her rooms when in wolf form so her people would not see her ripping and tearing into flesh like an animal.  In the early days, someone threw her a scrap from his plate.  That man now rotted in the Haidra dungeon. 

But other wolves were seated by the fireplace, delicately eating the pre-cut pieces of venison put before them.  Lars confessed that in wolf form, the taste of raw meat was as intoxicating as a fine wine.  But in the interest of indicating the human intelligence of the werewolves in a kingdom still not comfortable with their bewitchment, Queen Gisla instructed the kitchen to cook the wolves' food as if it was a meal fit for an honored guest.  It was served not on the hard slabs of bread used as plates by the rest of the court, but silver and gold platters.   

Aein stepped in and all of the wolves stopped to see what she was doing, their eyes fixed upon her for any sign of instruction.  She passed by them and they whined to be close to her, pressing their bodies against her legs and putting their large heads beneath her hands. 

Finn sat at the head table, to the right of where Gisla sat when she was human.  He was tearing into a turkey leg, his face and hands shining with grease.  When he spotted Aein, he took a quick mouthful of mead to clear his throat and motioned her over.  She sat in the empty seat beside him, uneasy to be at the head table, even if by invitation.  She lifted food from the platter in front of her with her fingers and put it on her plate.  Finn filled her glass and smiled.

"Good to see you," he said.

"You, too," she replied, digging into her dinner.  For a few moments, they ate in silence, enjoying the meal after such a long day. 

The immediate pangs of hunger sated, Finn wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and took another drink.  "I'm coming with you," he informed her.

Aein put down her roast chicken, choking a little in surprise.  "I don't think you can," she reminded him.  "Queen Gisla needs you here."

Finn shook his head.  "This is not for debate.  I am coming with you."

His declaration mystified Aein.  "What prompted this?"

"You need two wolves.  One who shifts at night, one who shifts at day.  Our eyes and ears are better than yours and you need someone to keep watch."

"Yes..." Aein agreed, then pointing out the flaw in his logic, "but the queen of this kingdom needs you here to be her voice when she shifts.  I'll take one of the others."

Again Finn cut her off.  "You know as well as I that the wolves of night are more wild than those of day.  They only received half of the berry.  Queen Gisla can keep them in check.  But if you were to bring one of them with you, they would challenge you to become alpha of the operation, a fight you don't want to get into in the middle of the swamp with a werewolf."

As if to punctuate his warning, one of the wolves snapped at another who came too close to his meal.  True, as a group they deferred to her.  But without the pressure of the others to keep the order?  To police each other?  Aein knew what Finn said was true.  "But what about the queen?"

"There are advisors here.  There are people loyal to her who have not and will not stop supporting her just because she changes form each night.  She has more friends than you.  And on this mission, you are going to need all the friends you can get."

It was a simple statement of fact, but it caused a strange warming sensation in her chest. Lars made her strong because she had to be strong for him.  But Finn... Finn was his own fortress.  He protected everyone around him.  She knew he would do anything to keep her safe.  Despite her fears of what lay ahead, the thought he would be there made it suddenly bearable. 

She had missed him.  She had missed her friend.

"Thank you," she said, unable to express her gratitude adequately.

"When do we leave?" he asked, taking another large bite.

"First light," Aein replied.  "When the gate to the town opens."

Finn nodded in agreement.  "Good.  Hopefully I will not be recognized in wolf form and no one will be the wiser."

Out of the corner of her eye, a movement caught Aein's attention.  She stood up quickly, her hand upon her knife.

"What is it?" asked Finn.

"I know that man," she replied.

"Who?"

She drew her dagger.  A man dressed in a servant's outfit disappeared behind a tapestry.  There was a humble room behind it filled with long, wooden tables and benches.  It was where the pages of the court waited to be called.  The room had a second door down to the kitchen. 

Aein strode towards the room, pushed the tapestry aside, and walked through.  Finn whistled to the wolves eating by the fire before he followed fast on her heels.  The pages stopped their conversations and leapt to their feet.

"Which way did he go?" growled Aein.

The wolves streamed into the room, hackles raised.  A terrified boy of fourteen pointed towards the door to the kitchen. 

Aein turned to the wolves.  "There was a man," she explained, "a man I recognized from the Arnkell stronghold.  He went down the stairs.  Get him!"

The wolves took off, howling and baying.  Aein followed them down the stairs with Finn at her side.

"A spy?" he asked as they ran.

Aein nodded.  They reached the courtyard.  The storm was building and the torches flickered in the growing wind.  The wolves were milling around, trying to catch the spy's scent.  Aein scanned the roof.  A dark silhouette ran on top of the parapet.

"There!" she cried, pointing.

The wolves were at once running up the stairs towards him, the guards on the wall racing towards him, too.

"I want him alive!" shouted Finn.

The man stopped.  He looked left and then looked right.  He ducked as an arrow flew by his head. 

"He has a hook..." Aein said.

The wall had tall, stone merlons - structures that went up and down the edge like wide teeth.  The spy latched his hook in the space between, tied a rope to the bottom, and jumped off the other side.

"He is rappelling down the side of the stronghold!" said Aein in disbelief.

"Fire upon him!" Finn shouted to his archers.

The wolves who had been chasing the spy up the stairs were now coming down.  The portcullis was being raised slowly, entirely too slowly.  The wolves scrambled beneath the pointed gate as soon as there was room.

"They'll never find him in the city," breathed Aein.  Who knew how much the spy heard?  Who knew what he would report to Lord Arnkell?  She turned to Finn.  "We must leave now." 

A
ein yanked her bags out of her locker.  The guards swore they would scour the city until they found the spy.  Her wolves were on the hunt for the man's trail.  But there was a feeling in the pit of her stomach that all their searches would fail.  She cursed that she had not noticed him sooner, had not called for help faster, had not been able to stop it.  A streak of black fur ran into the barracks and stopped by the foot of her bed.