Saving The Werewolves (The Lost Princess 0f Howling Sky Book 2)

by Kamryn Hart

  TODD

  Babaga meant what she said. I hadn’t been sure what to expect, but I hadn’t counted on being so sore and tired that I often chose sleep over excavating remnants of Howling Sky’s tech—but that turned out to be a useless endeavor anyway. Howling Sky really was tech-free after the Tech Ban. Maybe if they hadn’t been so stubborn in their power as werewolves, they could have combated the vampires with equal or better tech. Instead, they chose to live by the ban after the Hellfire Strike without any intention of ever going back to tech, and that decision cost them their lives.

  My eyelids felt like sandpaper scraping against my eyeballs these days. We worked constantly—aside from sleeping at night. If we weren’t combat training, we were meditating, or we were working on “our trophy.” Sorissa hadn’t come up with a name for the monster sword we were crafting yet. She said she’d name it when it was finished. The routine to get to this point was rigorous.

  The witch knew everything. I didn’t know much about the werewolves who had lived the nomadic-pack lifestyle, but Babaga acted like she did. She had specific instructions for the horn like she had crafted hardskull swords herself many times over. First came the materials. She sent us back to where we took down the bull to haul his carcass to Howling Sky. She had us skin his hide to make a proper sheath. We carved up the meat and dried a lot of it while Babaga preserved the rest in an icebox with enchanted ice that never melted—I was still trying to figure that one out. Then we set aside the bull’s bones because Babaga said we would be using them later.

  After that, the witch sent us out to hunt a collection of other minerals and metals to melt alongside the horn to make an even stronger base for the sword blade. We poured the mixture into a huge mold we made to keep the length and width of the original horn. Wielding this thing would require moonlight, and so did making it. We tempered the concoction with precise heat levels even though we were using a temperamental old forge. I thought it was nerve-racking. Sorissa was thrilled. Apparently, this was exactly like the fairytales she had grown up on, down to the tiniest details. I was glad it made her happy. It also gave me plenty to think about in terms of new materials for weapons when we got back to Wolf Bridge. This synthesized metal was solid. It was unfortunate hardskull horns were not easy to come by.

  Our blade was mostly finished. It was a bright white with thin blue veins crisscrossing along it. Attaching the hilt was all we had left to do. We were eight days away from the next full moon. It had been thirteen days since we started working with Babaga and this sword. We were moving incredibly fast, considering everything, mining items and training all at the same time. We did a fair amount of floundering, too. It wasn’t like we knew where all the materials Babaga wanted could be found. Even though she could give precise instructions when she wanted to, she often gave us simple directions and let us figure it out from there. Everything was about team building, and it was working, so I couldn’t complain. Besides, I liked letting my brain work in new ways.

  Most of our physical training was hand-to-hand combat, but Babaga also had us carve out our own six-foot-long wooden swords to practice with so we’d have an idea of how to wield our new hardskull sword. We had to use our moonlight sparingly to get the most out of it. None of us had become experts, but we had come a million miles from where we were before. Swordplay, specifically this heavy-handed style of it, was an outdated skill. I would have been the first to admit that I thought this loss was a mistake. I was no combat expert, but I could see how this moonlight-and-sword combo could make one fierce warrior. Guns didn’t solve everything. Neither could tech itself. There had to be a brain behind the tool. Skill. Besides, swordplay brought new insight into hand-to-hand combat—which was very important given Caspian’s current situation.

  I was curious to see where all of this new knowledge would lead us, and I wondered if Babaga already knew—not that she saw fit to tell us if she did. I had been trying to explain her uncanny knowledge and “power.” I tried to attribute it to years of experience, and while that was true to some extent, it just didn’t explain everything—like the never-melt ice.

  I was always indifferent toward witches. I thought of them more as something born from superstition. After spending almost an entire month with Babaga, I couldn’t say that so strongly anymore. She had power I couldn’t explain, and I had no idea how old she was or even what species she should be classified as. Maybe witches were a different species entirely.

  “You’ll never figure it out, Todd, so stop wasting your brainpower on it.” Babaga whacked the back of my head with this stupid cane she carved out of the leftover wood from our training swords. “Pay attention. You’re going to ruin the hilt.”

  “Shit,” I whispered, taking care to ease back on the heat that was making the bone, metal, and leather combination bow against the blade I was attempting to weld it to while resisting the urge to rub my head. I hated how she seemed to be able to read minds on top of it all.

  “I’ll take over,” Aerre said, and I gladly let him. Usually, this was my place to shine. I did a lot of the work, but I was exhausted. I needed a minute to clear my head. The sword was almost finished. I felt comfortable entrusting the final touches to the others.

  Once the hilt was attached, it would officially be an intimidating killing tool. It was already intimidating. I tried not to think about if it would be used in the future or if it would remain a “trophy.” I didn’t know the tales of Garstraude, but Sorissa made him sound like a werewolf war machine. He didn’t sound like flesh and blood.

  I sat down on a rock and wiped the sweat from my brow. Then I rubbed the sore spot on the back of my head. I needed a haircut. I hadn’t worn my beanie at all since we brought Caspian back. It got too hot, and I didn’t care out here. And Sorissa liked my hair.

  “It’s done!” Sorissa practically squealed. Moonlight blazed blue all over her and concentrated in her hands and arms as she lifted the six-foot-long sword. It was slightly terrifying when she pointed it straight up into the sky. It sort of resembled the blue sky spotted with fluffy clouds, but it was harder than steel, and the edges were sharper than any knife. The air noticeably displaced when she moved away from us to take a swing. It was like it ate up the air and left behind a small vacuum in its place. I didn’t quite know what it was doing, but I’d get a chance to study it later. And it might have just been Sorissa. She and Babaga had a habit of doing things I couldn’t explain, things that didn’t make any sense but made the most sense at the same time.

  Rodrick grinned. “What a monster. What are we going to call it, little fighter? Also, remind me never to cross you.”

  “Too bad weapons aren’t permitted in the Alpha Challenge. The king would be reluctant to get close to you, Caspian,” said Aerre.

  “Just name it Garstraude,” Caspian said.

  “Garstraude,” Sorissa whispered.

  “Isn’t that a little on the nose?” Rodrick asked.

  “I love it,” said Sorissa.

  Aerre shrugged. “Well, that was easy.”

  “Very good.” Babaga gave a stiff nod of her head.

  Sorissa swung the sword a few more times. Then she stopped mid-swing. “Babaga, I was so happy to see you and wanted to know about everything going on in the woods that I forgot to ask something important. Why did you have me read all of those fairytales? What was the point?” She returned to testing the sword, moving it in graceful arcs with her moonlight-reinforced arms, repeating the moves Babaga had engraved into our brains with wooden swords. The weight difference had no effect since Sorissa was compensating with moonlight. I wondered how quickly wielding it would eat up moonlight reserves. I knew it was at least one hundred pounds.

  “I handpicked those stories so you could see Prime for the pieces that made it up, minus the bigotry,” Babaga said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I hoped you could see things with clear eyes, without bias. Do you?”

  “I don’t know.” Sorissa took another swing, aimi
ng at a hefty branch of a tree. Garstraude cut clean through it. It didn’t even look like Sorissa was trying. That was one sharp sword. Would the blade ever need to be sharpened?

  “Think it could stop bullets?” I commented.

  “It’s strong enough to withstand them,” Babaga said.

  “And flexible enough it won’t shatter if it’s hit just right, and it’s wide enough it could act as a sort of shield. With moonlight, you’d be able to keep up with a bullet’s movements, but I wouldn’t recommend it for newbies like us.”

  “Gods, that’s such a heroic image, though,” Sorissa exclaimed, starry-eyed.

  “The image suits her,” I thought.

  Her smile broadened. I hadn’t intended to send that thought out, but I wasn’t trying to hide it either. Sorissa probably heard it and let it go straight to her already very healthy ego.

  She raised her eyebrows at me and stuck out her tongue. “Someone going to help me sheath this thing?”

  “A hero could do it herself,” Caspian remarked.

  Sorissa hummed, sucking on her lower lip as she looked at her hand gripping the hilt and held out her other hand as far as it would go, gauging her arm span. “I think I need longer arms.”

  “Sheathing it for storage means two of us working together if you want it done gracefully,” I said. “It’s an impractical weapon. It’s hard to transport. You’d have to be ready and have it drawn before a fight got serious. Plus, using it will sap your strength quickly.”

  “All valid points,” Babaga agreed. “Hardskull horns are not typically good for a quick draw. But they wreaked plenty of havoc back in their day. Though not permitted in the Alpha Challenge, they kept rival packs in line—and other more dangerous enemies.”

  “Like vampires,” Caspian said.

  “Indeed.”

  “Can a vampire wield one?” Sorissa asked. “In their stories, I never saw hardskull swords mentioned.”

  “Not at this size and weight. They would have to break a hardskull horn down to much smaller sizes—usually. More often than not, a werewolf is stronger than a vampire when their moonlight is fully active, but if a vampire is well fed on human blood, or especially werewolf blood if they can get it, that line blurs. Blood for them is like moonlight for you, but some creatures have essentially more nutrition in their blood than others for vampires.”

  Caspian growled. “Vampires would gladly take werewolf slaves over humans.”

  “Because you’re better than us,” Aerre said flatly.

  “As far as a more nutritional blood source goes for vampires? Yeah. I’ve heard stories.”

  “And you’re more powerful.” There was an edge to Aerre’s voice that translated to a tight feeling in my chest.

  “Aerre, I’m not trying to start a fight.”

  “No, you’re just trying to remind us of who the superior species is.”

  I didn’t understand these two even when this “spiritual” or “emotional” thing connecting us was working, more or less, again. Aerre liked to fight with someone. Since Rodrick came clean about his involvement with the agitators and chose us instead, he was no longer Aerre’s primary target. Now, it was Caspian.

  Caspian growled, “Enough. What have I ever done to hurt you? It’s like you’re always trying to punish me for tethering you to me, but you wanted it. You begged me to do it, and I gave in. I didn’t want to. I always liked you just the way you were!”

  Aerre muttered something imperceptible, and Caspian’s gaze went to the ground. I could feel our bond fluttering, these silver strands loosening and tangling instead of being pulled taut and clear.

  Rodrick shook his head. “So hardskull swords are hard to wield, but they’re powerful as hell when in the hands of someone with moonlight reserves as big as Sorissa’s. This whole thing has been very educational.”

  “Yes,” Babaga murmured. “I would ask you all to use this power carefully. This power you share with Sorissa…”

  “I’ll only ever use my power for good,” Sorissa vowed solemnly. She looked over Aerre and Caspian with concern. Then she sent that same gaze to me and Rodrick. She was so easy to read. She was so easy to understand. And she was probably the only one in this world who could say those words and mean them with the utmost sincerity.

  CHAPTER 25

  AERRE

  MEDITATING WAS THE WORST. We sat on the hard surface of the Moon Mirror at night, or in the overgrown grass during the day to practice it. Right now, it was early into the night, so we were on the Moon Mirror. We were supposed to be still as death, eyes closed, visualizing these “silver threads” connecting us—according to Sorissa and Todd. It was meant to nurture the “spiritual” nature of Sorissa’s claim, the part of her claim we needed to be at a hundred percent between all of us for moonlight exchanging purposes, and it was what we struggled with the most—what I struggled with the most.

  I thought we had it down good enough. Sorissa could give each of us her moonlight and even expand the maximum amount of our reserves in the process without a problem—though the maximum amount we could hold always returned to our normal capacity once that one-time supply was passed on to another or used up. Sorissa hadn’t come into this with any moonlight of her own because of what happened on the last full moon, and it turned out taking all of our moonlight reserves didn’t even fill her up to half. If she was full of moonlight and passed it all to Caspian, that would be all he needed to ensure he won the Alpha Challenge. It would work out fine because filling up on moonlight was a prerequisite to the Alpha Challenge, so both sides were at the top of their game. But Babaga insisted we all needed to pass around our moonlight as easily as Sorissa.

  “You want the best chance you can get, don’t you?” she asked. She was about to lecture me again. I just knew it.

  “Yes,” I muttered and reminded myself we only had five days until the next full moon, less than that since we needed to leave enough time to get back to Wolf Bridge. Our time in Howling Sky, almost an entire month, had been a little bit like heaven and a lot like a living hell for me.

  I took a deep breath as Caspian and I sat cross-legged across from each other, wearing tank tops and shorts to stave off the surprising heat that had plagued Howling Sky for the past few days. I tried not to fidget away from the cracks I was sitting on. At least the lunalite was cool. It didn’t absorb heat the way other surfaces did.

  Closing my eyes, I focused again on “meditating.” Meditating was the fucking hardest thing for someone with a restless mind like mine. I was making terrible progress transferring moonlight to anyone, but I hadn’t managed to do it with Caspian even once. Rodrick was basically a fucking professional at meditating, though he was having issues with Caspian too. Todd, the overachiever, was nearly as perfect as Sorissa.

  Caspian was doing fine to the most part. He still had a few hiccups to sort out every now and then, but it wasn’t an issue of him giving moonlight to any of us. He was good at that. He was terrible with reception. Babaga acted like that had more to do with me and Rodrick than it did him, but she still acknowledged it as an issue. Rodrick and I couldn’t transfer to each other either—usually.

  “Do it again,” Babaga instructed. “Aerre, transfer your moonlight to Caspian.”

  I sighed as Caspian and I stood. I placed my hand on his bare shoulder, and we both went stiff as statues. A hand on the shoulder shouldn’t have been a big deal, but it was awkward. There was a tense silence and transferring, or attempting too, basically demanded we gaze into each other’s eyes. I couldn’t hold his gaze. What’s wrong with me? I wondered. It was easy with Sorissa. She made intimacy of any kind easy. A kiss was the quickest way to transfer moonlight to her. Maybe because it was all about “feeling” like Todd talked about before. There wasn’t much “thinking” involved.

  “Just kiss him already,” Babaga said with a wave of her hand. “This hand-on-the-shoulder thing is not working.”

  I withdrew my hand like I had just been stung. “Hell no,” I growle
d. “I am not kissing Caspian.”

  “If it was a matter of life and death, you still wouldn’t kiss him? You’re no closer than you have been for days.”

  “Well, fuck this. Sorissa can take care of it.”

  “You’re a team. Sorissa is the center point, yes, but this claim, this bond, will quickly deteriorate if you can’t all come to an understanding. You’re straining. I thought you had figured something out when you fetched Caspian and brought him back to Howling Sky. You did, but you’ve hit another barrier, Aerre. Accepting Sorissa means accepting each other, not simply tolerating. Even when you’re angry, even when you’re trapped in self-loathing, you need to trust your pack.”

  Self-loathing.

  Rodrick framed his mouth and stupid beard with his hands to amplify his voice and goaded, “Kiss him, Aerre!”

  Todd laughed nervously, staring at the ground. Sorissa watched with unbridled interest.

  “Keep hollering, Rodrick, because you’ll have to do this too if it works,” Babaga threatened.

  That shut the ex-agitator up fast.

  Caspian chuckled and shook his head, brushing the whole thing off. “We just need to concentrate more. Or less. We’re thinking too much about it.”

  I wanted him to shut up. I wanted them all to shut up. I knew all of my shortcomings already. I knew my brain was too busy. I knew everyone else knew it too. I knew I worried too much. I knew I was sharp and started fights over stupid things. I knew I was terrible to all of them except for maybe Sorissa.

  I ignored everything inside of me telling me no. I grabbed Caspian’s shoulders and kissed him. The rasp of his scruff caught me off guard. He usually kept his face clean of any stubble, but we hadn’t had much time to breathe out here. We were dirty, sweaty, tired. His lips were full and soft against mine. It only lasted a couple of seconds before Caspian pulled away in surprise, dark eyes wide. Did he always have those deep sapphire-blue flecks in his eyes? Maybe it was moonlight.