Wynter Reign

by Emmy R Bennett

  The shocked expression on Isalora’s face is priceless, and I hear some snicker.

  “Not the real Geneviève, of course,” Cory butts in. “It was a Trek, posing as her.”

  “I see. They are delectable, indeed. I prefer them cooked, of course.” She turns to Cory. “At any rate, you need to feed.”

  “I know,” he confesses.

  Being around all these carnivorous beings makes my stomach churn. I feel the need to use the restroom.

  Cory glances at me, flashing a smile. “It’s no different than when you eat beef. Give me your wrist. Your blood isn’t nearly as sweet, but it will do.”

  “Get out of my head, Cory. And no, it’s not the same, you sicko. These are people we’re talking about that you hunt to get your fix. Again, you disgust me, Cory Storm,” I growl.

  “You didn’t have a problem with us feeding off a Trek.”

  “Yeah, because they’re Trek. The enemy,” I counter.

  “Well, I can assure you, we have none of those beings here on the grounds,” Isalora interrupts. “Perhaps, I can scout a criminal human being somewhere here on Earth, hiding out.”

  “Seriously?” I question, giving Isalora a stern look. “And you…” I glare at Cory. “If you were so hungry, why didn’t you eat the fallen dragon back on the castle grounds, or better yet, instead of disrupting my archery practice, go hunt. You knew we were on a mission that would be detrimental to the cause, and yet you come here to fight on an empty stomach?”

  “I forget to eat when distracted.”

  “Is that your excuse?”

  “Enough!” Isalora blasts. “We have better use of our time than to quarrel. No sense on hashing out Cory’s faults right now. He needs to eat before he becomes so weakened, he turns on one of us. You, in fact. Your blood is not immune to a Shadow Walker. He is still a nytemire, and he still needs to feed, no matter how grotesque you think it is, Rory.” She looks to the rest of the group. “Anyone else in this room who needs to hunt before we start?”

  Zak steps forward. “I do. I mean, I did eat before coming, but it wouldn’t hurt to fill up a bit.”

  Thom gives a hesitant smile, as though he feels uncomfortable with the many predators in the room. “My brother and I are fine with stew My Lady.”

  I nod along with them, as does Arryn.

  “Well, then, I suppose we should get on with it.” Isalora pops up in the loft. “Boys, follow me please,” she says. The book flips its pages, and the portal window changes. “I’ve set the location to the territories of Ladorielle near the Trek city. I trust you know what to do next. Take this with you. It will bring you back to the cottage.” She hands them both an object.

  “What are these?” Cory asks.

  “Return Stones,” Isalora answers. “When activated, they will bring the one possessing it back to where it was given to them. They can only be used once. Now go.”

  We watch as the two men pass through the portal gate and disappear, when Isalora pops back to the kitchen. “Well, don’t just stand there... come eat,” she says, and we all jump.

  “Such a jittery bunch,” she adds, laughing, as she fills our bowls with stew. “I won’t harm you. I’m only a ghost.”

  We come sit around the dining room table, and Isalora grabs beer from the refrigerator. “I imagine you two will want this,” she says and places the ale in front of Thom and Dom, along with mugs. She takes out a gallon of milk as well, accompanied with glasses for Arryn, Stella, and I, then fills a bowl for Akira. “I have hot rolls, too.” She pulls the baking sheet out and places them in the center of the kitchen island.

  “Aren’t you full of surprises.” I sit with the crew around the table and ask, “Um…Isalora, if I may? On Ladorielle, it is evening. What time is it here?”

  “Almost noon on a Saturday.”

  “That means we have three Earth days to pull this off,” I remark.

  “Yes,” she affirms.

  “Curious, those stones you gave to Cory and Zak…. Can you tell me more about them?”

  “They have been around for centuries. I’m surprised you haven’t seen them before. They can only be created from the power of Light Witches.”

  “But there are no more Light Witches left,” I argue.

  “Ah, yes. That is indeed what’s assumed.” She looks at Stella and smiles.

  I take the hint. “I see,” I say and take a bite of soup. “So, when do we seek out our first task? I don’t want to eat. I want to find my sister.”

  Isalora smiles. “Full stomachs will build your stamina. Besides Rory, do you want to go into this unprepared? We need everyone ready, because after tonight, you will not have time to…eat.”

  Chapter 12

  Cory Storm

  The Past:

  Ladorielle Territories

  We land somewhere deep in the woods. “It’s a bit colder than usual. Where to you think we are?” I ask.

  “We’re far north near the mountains of The Lake of No Return.” Zak points. “Beyond that ridge are the foothills of the Grengore Mountain Range. We should find something not too far ahead,” he says, and begins to hike down a path toward the bluffs, not wavering in his steps.

  There isn’t any sunlight left, and my eyes begin to adjust with my night vision. My body is weaker than I originally thought, and as a result, my senses increase, and I can smell nearly every creature within a mile radius. I try hard to control my inner beast, but hunger of a fresh kill consumes my thoughts. It’s stronger than it’s ever been before. I was so focused on trying to look after Wynter and get her safely back to the protection of Dragonscale that I have forgotten about my own needs. This is inexcusable, because I have put this mission in jeopardy by forgetting to hunt.

  “How long have you known Isalora?” Zak asks, interrupting my desires to kill.

  “A while. She and Jeoffrey helped to train me.”

  That day I failed to give Cole the watch continues to haunt me. Some days, I sit and meditate on what I could have done differently, and it drives me mad. It’s my fault he’s in the position he’s in. Cole was a lost cause. I guess both Isalora and Jeff figured it was better to train one twin rather than none. It was hard for me, knowing I screwed up. If I had listened to Jeoffrey in the first place, maybe Cole would be with us now, helping strategize a plan of attack. Keeping this big secret from my mom, Blair, has been brutal, too. She still hasn’t any idea that I’ve been training and preparing for the war that is coming. They said it was critical to keep it a secret, and we couldn’t take a chance on Moyer finding out our plans.

  “Do you think we will come across any Trek?” I ask.

  “In the foothills near the mountains where most of my people live, I can smell their nests.”

  “Great. Not exactly my taste of meat.”

  Zak hisses, as though he’s annoyed. “Usually, where there is an Iknes Shaw, a Trek isn’t too far behind.”

  “Have you stopped to think what you would do if your fellow clan finds out that you’re in cahoots with the enemy?” I can’t read his mind like I can others. I’m sure it’s his poisonous reptile blood that protects him. I don’t exactly feel confident that he’s loyal to our team. He is, after all, an Iknes Shaw. The very people who have poisoned my family’s bloodline for centuries.

  “Ah, I see. You don’t trust me, is that it?” Zak nods. “Fair enough. You think because I have the skin of a snake that I can’t be loyal.”

  “Well, the thought did cross my mind, yes,” I confess.

  He shakes his head. “I see some things never change.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I can feel the tension between us rise.

  “The same prejudice still remains, no matter where one goes, doesn’t it? Did it ever occur to you that not all of us are evil?”

  “It appears you’re claiming innocence of any wickedness. Care to share?” I counter.

  “Yes, well, my mother taught me values. She said that not all species are as they appear to be. To und
erstand one’s soul is to observe the company they keep. It is no different than you. I mean, clearly you must recognize the irony in your assumptions. A necromancer hybrid who lives on Ladorielle, has royal blood, and converses with elves? And having vampire traits to boot? I do say, you are quick to judge, my friend.”

  “Fair enough, I see your point.”

  A twig snaps, drawing our attention from the conversation at hand. Wolves howl in the not too far distance. We can’t see them, but we both know they’re in the brush, hiding. Lucky for us, we can see in the dead of night, like humans can during the day.

  “How many do you suppose there are? Killing a wolf will not curb either one of our cravings,” I say.

  I know,” he replies, and I watch as his human form vanishes into part snake. Scales form upon his skin, and his eyes change to the shape of a reptile’s, and a forked tongue slithers between his lips.

  One of the advantages of being a nocturnal predator, Zak and I both know that if we move, the wolves will pounce. Because I’m not able to see his thoughts, I’m dead in the water as to what he might be thinking. He’s a predator like me, and there’s only one thing left to do; I transform into the monster I have fought so hard not to be.

  Zak and I both swing around to see nothing behind us. I know I heard a branch snap. My keen eyes scan the area. “Do you see anything?”

  “No. You?”

  “No. But I smell it. And it’s not an Iknes Shaw, nor a Trek, nor…wolves,” I say, even though I hear the growls.

  “I s-ss-smell it, too.”

  “What other species growl, other than Ladorielle wolves?”

  We case our surroundings with our backs to each other, so we can see anything that might come at us. The irony of this world is that although we are nocturnal predators, we, too, are prey when night falls. One poison arrow and it can knock me defenseless.

  “Invisible sabretail prowlers?” Zak asks. “I mean, it’s been a long time since I’ve encountered some of those, but what other scent can it be?”

  Another howl sounds in the distance, and I realize it might be more than wolves, as Zak has pointed out.

  “It appears we are prey,” I say. “You ready for some dog meat instead of humanoid flesh? Because it looks as though we are in for a fight of the fittest.”

  “Ready when you are, my friend.”

  Chapter 13

  Rory Fernshadow

  The Past:

  The Cottage at Storm River Manor

  My mind lingers in thought as I watch people eat, as though we have plenty of time on our hands.

  Akira continues to gnaw on the T-bone Isalora gave him earlier, and Arryn rests on the couch in the living room near the fire. Thom and Dom slop up a second helping of stew, dipping the bread with their hands, and I’m caught staring at them.

  “What?” they both say.

  I shake my head. “Nothing. You all eat as though we have an abundance of time. We should be out there, looking for Redmae and the others.” I point to the door. The winds howl in anger.

  “It’s a bit frosty outside, don’t you think?” Dom asks.

  Feeling my frustration rise, I say, “And? That’s never stopped either of you.” I look to Arryn, and I can see she has a curved smile, while Akira is clearly still focused on the steak under his paws.

  Isalora takes a sip of cold tea and leans against the counter. “What do you propose?”

  Distracted by watching her drink, I say, “If you’re a ghost—well I mean, I know you’re a ghost... that’s obvious—how are you able to consume beverages?”

  She gives a huge grin, as though she would love to answer this perplexing question. “It’s for show, really. Does absolutely nothing but make it appear as if I’m actually alive. It’s a good façade I try and keep up. I have no use for the tea, nor food for that matter. I’ll admit, I was expecting you, so the stew was prepared in anticipation of your arrival. And... well”—she glances over to Stella sitting on a bar stool next to the kitchen island— “Stella is still human, so she needs to eat.”

  I remind myself to stay focused. “Aoes mentioned we don’t have much time to pull off the mission, and yet you all lollygag around, as though we have plenty of time on our hands.” That draws the attention of the others gathered in the small cottage to perk up.

  “Aoes is correct. You don’t have much time. A few days here will merely seem like hours on Ladorielle. You must get this task accomplished as quickly as possible for this to work. Might I remind you, Aoes can only manipulate time to a point.” Isalora starts a fresh pot of coffee.

  The aroma enchants my senses. “That smells delicious, I have to admit it, as foul of a mood as I’m in.”

  “Coffee seems to add a perk to many people’s attitudes. Would you like a cup, when it’s finished brewing?” Isalora asks.

  “Fine. But it still doesn’t change the fact that we need to move from this snail pace you have us in right now.”

  Stella stares at me as though I’m an odd-looking creature, and I want to tell her to take a picture. What, are my silver eyes too much for you to handle, kid?

  “You know, Isalora,” Arryn interrupts, “perhaps you could show or tell us about the tunnel from which Wynter escaped? It may give us some insight as to what we’re all up against.”

  I wonder if Arryn detects my annoyance, which is why she’s changing the subject.

  “Too risky to show you. Sabretail prowlers are fiercer than ever now, since Wynter’s escape. Moyer has somehow acquired more dogs than before.”

  “So, why not tell us, then,” she counters.

  “You can see them, too?” I ask Isalora

  She smiles. “Hello…ghost?”

  “Right.” I huff with annoyance. "How quickly I forget about the humanoid presence of the spirit in the room. I do have one thing to share with the class.”

  Everyone stares at me in anticipation.

  “Do tell,” Isalora says, as she continues to focus on brewing coffee and takes a few mugs from the cupboard.

  “None for us, My Lady,” Thom and Dom Interrupt.

  “Oh?” She stops and turns to them. “Since when did the two of you start fasting? You both love coffee.”

  “Well…ah…um…. You see, My Lady, that is an interesting story,” Thom starts.

  Arryn raises her brow and smirks, as though she knows the answer. “They had an unfortunate accident back home,” she adds.

  Isalora laughs. “What? Drunk off coffee? Did you pour too much ale into it?”

  Silence comes from all three of them.

  “You can’t be serious? What happened?”

  Annoyed, I clear my throat to stop their conversation. It doesn’t work, so I yell out, “Can we focus, please?”

  “My apologies, Rory, please go on,” Isalora says, giving me her full attention.

  “Well, Cory and I went to see Aoes right before coming here, and he gave me this.” I lift up the vial hanging around my neck for everyone to view.

  Isalora examines it carefully. “I see. And what did Aoes say you’re to do with it?”

  “To give it to Redmae. How do I do that without her tearing us all to pieces? Aoes mentioned to wait until the night of the first full moon, but...”

  “Pour it into her water or food—something like that?” Isalora suggests.

  “Well, nothing like making things easy, is there?” I say.

  Isalora smiles. “Have you thought about what you will do when you face your sister?”

  Stella’s observing behavior has me flustered. “Yes and no,” I hesitate. “I haven’t seen Redmae as a wolf. I’m nervous and afraid she won’t recognize me.” Stella continues to stare. It’s as though she’s studying my every move.

  The brewing timer sounds, breaking Stella’s trance. She swivels off her stool and puts her bowl in the sink. Isalora seems oblivious to Stella’s gazes, as she grabs the pot and pours me a cup, along with herself. “Arryn, would you like coffee?” Isalora asks.

  “Sure,
I’ll have some,” she says.

  The dwarves waddle their way to the couch, leaving their empty bowls on the table. “We could use a bit of a nap,” Thom says.

  “You can’t be serious?” I look at the twins annoyed. “A nap?”

  “Rory,” Thom says, bowing, “with all due respect to ye lass, the storm outside is brewing. We won’t be able to see two inches from our noses, let alone find and rescue your sister and the others.” He plops next to his brother, puts his hat over his face, and takes in a deep breath. “Might as well gather rest and strength since there isn’t anything we can do about it at the moment. Go do some yoga or something, perhaps it would do you some good.”

  I clench my fists and step forward, ready to punch Thom in the chops. Arryn sees my rage build and puts her arm out to stop me. She shakes her head and glares.

  I straighten my shoulders, taking a deep breath. “Great, just great. You all laze around, as though this is a game. Well, I’m not waiting.” I grab my quiver set and cape that sets near the fireplace and head for the entrance. When I open it, the wind knocks me to the floor. The gusts are so strong the door is torn off its hinges.

  Snow immediately surges in the doorway, as flakes fly throughout the cottage. Isalora swings her fingers, as though she’s directing an orchestra and places the door back, as though nothing was ever disturbed. I, on the other hand, am speechless and still planted to the floor.

  Isalora chuckles, as she pours Arryn some coffee. “Now, where were we?” She glares at me. “Listen, Redmae isn’t going anywhere in this weather, and you would be wise to not mess with Mother Nature right now, as you can see. That’s obvious by the stunt you pulled. You could use a little patience, my dear Rory. Sip your beverage and relax.”

  “Relax? You say that as though it’s simple.”

  “It is. Well, a simple choice that is…you haven’t any. Save your energy for the battle ahead. Until this blizzard lets up, we’re all stuck in this warm cozy cottage.” She gives a wry smile. “But what we can do, is plan our first attack. Will that suffice?”