Wolves and the River of Stone (33 page)

“This is a long way from McFadden’s Ford,” Mike said.

“Ah know,” Zola said. “Philip will not be watching the woods. He will watch the roads.”

“Alright, let’s stick to the plan,” Carter said. Everyone’s attention turned back to the Alpha. “Zola, Damian, you’re going straight in. Philip’s going to be expecting you. The vampires will fan out behind you and move in through the woods. One wolf for every vampire. The necromancers may not be able to manipulate you while you wear those wards, but they’ll still know something’s out there. They’ll never expect you all to be with werewolves.” Carter laced his fingers under the edge of his shirt and pulled it off. The other wolves followed suit and stripped down to nothing. I tried not to stare at Maggie, but she, was just,
ripped.

“Oh, this is a good trip,” Mary said as she clapped her hands together.

Sam blushed as her eyes flashed between Hugh and Alan. Alan grinned and raised his eyebrows in quick succession before he shifted. Sam snorted a laugh as the wolves began to shimmer and fur flowed in a surge of power. Their muscles popped and expanded as the fur covered their skin, claws replaced fingernails, backs swelled and hunched, and the human sheen to their sunburst eyes was lost. Not a single wolf so much as grunted during the shift, and I was just guessing it was because the vampires were with them.

If Maggie caught my eye when she was nude, she was a work of art as a wolf. Her fur was a fine silver covering, flashing in the moonlight as she moved. She crouched onto all fours and almost could have passed for a wolf. The front of her body was too wide, but seen in the shadows, the extra width would be a very slight detail.

“You?” Vassili said.
“You
are the silver wolf?”

A sound like a chuckle mixed with a growl came from Maggie’s chest.

Vassili’s face turned into a snarl. “If we were not here as allies against a greater foe, I-”

Carter laid a khaki-colored claw on Vassili’s chest. “Old battles, Vassili. Put them behind you for now. There are worse things in the woods than us tonight.”

The old vampire nodded and turned away from Maggie. The group moved toward the tree line and the path into it.

Zola sped her pace and came up beside Dominic. “Stay to the west edge of the Slaughter Pen,” she said. “Keep their attention divided.”

“Where is the Slaughter Pen, exactly?” Dominic said.

“Look for the rocks. You’ll know it. The place will feel wrong, even to a wolf.” Her hand locked around Dominic’s wrist until he looked at her. “The eyes of the dead are never closed. This was a terrible battlefield. There may be more here than we know. Watch yourselves.”

“Sometimes you really creep me out,” Vik said as Zola let go of Dominic’s wrist.

Zola smiled and turned away, toward the demon. “Mike, well, do whatever it is you do.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” The smile that crawled over Mike’s face curled my toes. “There aren’t any innocents among our enemies.”

We left the van behind and walked together to the north. Our footsteps were quiet, but noticeable in the still air. A gentle breeze carried the smell of burnt grass. Something groaned in the woods and the black wolf beside me shivered.

“I heard this place is haunted,” Haka said, his voice a throaty growl as we all headed toward the path and the woods beyond.

I let out a slow laugh. “Everyplace is haunted.”

“No, I mean by something dark, something evil. It’s supposed have like, bright green eyes or something.”

“No, son,” Hugh said. “You are thinking of Chickamauga, Old Green Eyes. We won’t see him here.”

“Nope, the only scary thing here is Sam,” I said.

“I heard that!” Her voice was a fierce whisper from the shadows.

Hugh and Haka both muffled their laughter.

“What is Old Green Eyes?” I said to Hugh.

“There are a few theories, but I believe him to be an overly active gravemaker. It would have to be a powerful gravemaker to be seen by humans and be able to hide itself from the Fae.”

“Hide from the Fae?” I said as I passed around the low-hanging branch of an old tree.

“It’s only a story, Damian. Supposedly the creature can hide himself. If you ask me, it’s just a convenient cover-up for an urban legend. A very old urban legend.”

“Quiet,” Zola said. “We’re at the trail. It’s time to spread out.”

And so we did.

I
walked beside my master on the wooded trail. The trees were dense enough to drop a thick covering of leaves across the forest floor, but the gravel still crunched beneath our feet. The moon was at a sharp angle in the sky and shadows breathed around us in silence. The last of the daylight faded away to the quiet song of a few cicadas. I couldn’t hear the vampires or werewolves moving through the woods. They were either far enough away I couldn’t hear the crunch of leaves, or they were much, much better than me at being quiet.

We hadn’t been walking long when I took a step forward and it felt as though the world began screaming at me. Zola’s gaze trailed off to the west, beyond a cannon set along the path. I took a few deep breaths and began walking again, unable to stop gritting my teeth.

“The Slaughter Pen,” she said. “This was a sad place, Damian. You can still see the rocks.” She pointed into the shadows. I could just make out the nearest of the shallow valleys and trenches formed of natural stone. My vision flickered, and the wall of dead soldiers standing in that place made me gasp. So many souls. So many dead.

Our pace quickened. I wasn’t sure if Zola wanted to get away from there as badly as I did, or if adrenaline just pushed us faster. My breath came easier as we distanced ourselves from that wall of watching eyes. We followed the path for another ten minutes, gravel becoming asphalt, before Zola put her hand on my arm and stopped me. I glanced at her and she held her index finger to her lips. She tilted her head and then smiled.

“Ah thought Ah heard something.” She turned toward the trail behind us and then back to me. “Damian, use your staff and your gun as much as you can. Philip’s going to be waiting for us. Ah can feel a strong knot of ley line power, but Ah can’t find its purpose.”

“Neither can I,” Cara said from behind Zola’s shoulder. Her sudden appearance made me jump. “Something’s out there, toward the river. We’re getting closer to it.”

Zola nodded as Cara fluttered back into the trees and another breeze rustled the branches.

It felt like we were walking through a tunnel made of tree branches. The darkness seemed ever closer, or perhaps it was only the dread of what was coming. We walked for a while longer before the trees dropped away on either side. Fields of what seemed to be tall grass flanked us in the darkness. I thought I could see a shadow moving far off to the west, and then it was gone.

A fence closed around us on either side. The uneven, layered edges of the posts seemed more like fingers, grasping for anything they could reach. I started to feel trapped.

“We need to get out of here,” I hissed.

“We’re safe,” Zola said. “No one could hope to detect us here.

“Why not?” I asked, sounding less panicked than I would have thought.

“How’s your concentration?”

“It’s alright,” I said. “The shock wore off a few minutes ago. I can think over the static again.”

“Good, that’s good, boy. We’re close to a cemetery,” she said as she pointed to the northwest. She moved her hand toward the east and said, “That’s Hell’s Half-Acre. Don’t look.”

But I was already looking. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard, forcing the vision into the back of my mind. As bad as the Slaughter Pen was, this was no better. The unblinking eyes of the dead swarmed the fields around us and seemed ever more dense to the east. It was only as the vision faded that I realized they hadn’t been looking at us.

“They’re not watching us,” I said.

“Ah know,” Zola said. “Ah think there are louder things to watch.”

“The ley line energy?”

She nodded as we approached a modern road. “If you’re okay here, you should be alright by the river. A long time ago, this crumbled old road was McFadden’s Lane.” Zola rubbed the scars on her wrists before we rushed to the other side. Trees replaced the fields on our right, but the fence still followed us on the left. “Don’t worry about being quiet. We want them to focus on us. Maybe they’ll miss the wolves and the demon.”

My foot immediately caught on an uneven slab of pavement. I let out a muffled shout as I did a face plant onto a patch of overgrown grass.

“You don’t have to be
that
loud,” Zola said in a whisper.

I heard a snicker from the woods to my right as I spit out a clump of dead leaves. I was pretty sure it was Cara, or a ghost with a good sense of humor. I groaned, stood up, and started following Zola again, taking a bit more caution with my footing.

“Some things never change,” Zola said.

I grinned and followed her gray cloak in the darkness for another ten minutes. The trees and the fence fell away and we were suddenly standing outside the protection of the forest. We climbed a gravel rise over some old railroad tracks before scrambling through more tall grass and out onto another stretch of the decaying street.

We came to a newer, wider road that cut across our path. I could see headlights in the distance. The rest of the world remained still. The wooden fence on the opposite side of the street worked its way into my view as we jogged closer. Another set of railroad tracks was left behind before a second fence closed us in on the west as well.

A strong breeze rushed by. It was faint, but when I breathed deeply I caught a hint of the river I knew laid beyond the hill. Something pulled on the ley lines in the distance, and I could see the electric blue streams around us flux and shift in response.

I bit my lips and glanced at the road in front of us. It vanished around a curve to the east about twenty feet ahead.

I laid a hand on Zola’s shoulder. She stopped and leaned toward me.

“Should we leave the road?”

She shook her head, the tinkling of the metal in her braids a silent whisper. “Be quiet so we don’t raise alarm or suspicion, but remember we go in as a distraction.”

I nodded and followed her around the bend. A bright white obelisk cut the darkness of the northern night sky as we reached the top of a short incline. I couldn’t make out the plaque fastened to the obelisk’s face as we started down a narrower path. The fences that lined the battlefield continued with us. Our left was flanked by boulders and a shorter fence while our right was smothered by a tall wooden barrier that looked reinforced.

Only a few sparse trees separated us from the vast field that led to the river. There was another knot of woods a bit south, and even a sparse covering of trees to the north, but Zola led us straight into the field. Three necromancers became visible off to the east as we passed through the shallow tree line. My eyes swept the area from left to right. I could see the river in the distance now, a ways north, but nothing else moved. The only sounds were the call of a few cicadas, the faint rush of the water, and the intermittent breeze ruffling the branches behind us, sending a handful of dead leaves swirling between us and the necromancers. I could smell the dampness of the river, but by the sound and scent, I knew it was smaller than the Missouri River.

My hand moved up beside the shield rune on my staff when two of the necromancers moved. They stepped forward and threw back their hoods. I saw Zola’s body jerk when the moonlight fell across their faces. Her knobby cane whipped up in front of her and she held it diagonally across her body. I did the same, resting my right hand on the butt of my pepperbox.

“Volund, Jamin ... why?” Zola’s voice turned brittle and hard.

The hooded necromancer dropped away from the other two. Something rippled on the ground, and then stabilized. I wasn’t sure if Zola had noticed it.

She pounded her cane into the ground and shook her head. “Why do you side with
him!”

A short, dark laugh rolled across the field. I turned my head slightly to the left and watched Philip Pinkerton appear in a slowly expanding orb of sickly red light. When the light faded he tucked an object into his robes. I didn’t catch what it was, but for a second I thought I saw a finger.

“Adannaya ... so good of you to bring friends,” he said. “I’ve brought friends too.” Philip closed his eyes and murmured something. When his eyes opened, the illusion across the field collapsed. My heart lurched as at least fifteen necromancers came into view. Not all of them were draped in robes. Two at the edge of the line behind Philip wore tactical gear and had some vicious looking rifles leveled at us. I doubted the hybrid shield from the staff would be able to stop a bullet. Maybe a deflection, if I got lucky. I realized what Philip had done as I stared down the barrel of a monstrous weapon and my heart sank. The guns didn’t matter, they were a distraction. My head whipped back toward Philip and he was already in motion. He held his hand out like a claw.

“
Stanasatto!”

“Zola!” My shield sprang from my staff as I moved toward her. Philip’s blade of force stabbed through her cloak. She hadn’t even raised a shield to try and stop it. A moment later the cloak fell to the ground, empty. I hadn’t seen her move. I had no idea where she’d gone.