Just a few more hours and she’d shed the last of her tears while she cleansed Anya, lock away her sadness deep inside, and allow the anger to take over. Tomorrow she’d become like the Sisters of old. No longer would she wait around for the Weres to attack. She’d raid their caves and drive them out. She’d become Red, The Werewolf Hunter.
“Hey Red,” said Yanti, in her cheerful twelve-year-old voice. “I came to see if you were all right.”
Redlynn pushed past her, closed the front door, and stepped down onto the frosty dirt road. “Yanti, I don’t have time today. I’m sorry.”
“Oh.”
The sound of Yanti’s defeated voice made Redlynn stop in her tracks.
“I brought you this.” Yanti held out a small basket. “I figured you wouldn’t have time for breakfast.”
Way to go, Redlynn. Make the kiddies cry. Redlynn laid her hand on Yanti’s shoulder. Yanti continued to look at the basket.
She used her fist to lift the girl’s chin and gave Yanti a small smile. “Thank you. If you leave it on my table, I’ll eat it when I’m done.”
“Sure.” Yanti pushed her hair behind her ear.
“Then you run off to school and training. I don’t want you wandering about today. Today is a weeping day.”
“I’ll head straight there, Red, I promise.” Yanti smiled again. “I want to be the Head of the Order someday and wear the red stone necklace, like Lillith’s.” Yanti scrunched up her face. “Red, why aren’t you the Head of the Sisterhood, like your grandmother?”
Redlynn’s eye twitched. “There’s more to being the Head of the Sisterhood than just wearing pretty things and living in a nice home, you know.”
“I know, but the necklace is so shiny. And she has a matching mirror, have you seen it?”
A chill raced up Redlynn’s spine. “Where did you see it?”
“She was sick a few months back, and my mother had me take her some broth. It was sitting on her nightstand. It must be pretty important to her because when I tried to touch it, she yelled at me and told me to get out. Said it was a present from a special admirer, and no one could touch it but her.”
Redlynn swallowed hard. She'd never known Lillith to have any suitors. Ever. “Off to school.”
Yanti smiled and headed into Redlynn’s house, then ran back out. “Bye, Red!” she called. “I’m gonna be just like you someday!”
Redlynn shivered. Yanti deserved to be a mother, married to a wealthy farmer, passing on her golden curls and green eyes to a brood of chubby children, far from the death and despair of Volkzene. And if Yanti and Redlynn were lucky, she’d be able to do just that. All she needed was for Redlynn to succeed in killing the Were King. Redlynn’s chest tightened as Mrs. Cantrel’s words from the night before hit her again.
And then, maybe if she succeeded, the villagers would stop using her for protection only, and finally accept her as one of their own, despite her strange eyes.
Redlynn tread wearily to the town hall. The wind still whistled through the main muddy road of the village. She pulled her cloak close and passed the Borwen’s pigpen. Quiet stillness emanated through the village at the early hour. A Sister exited her house, stopped short when she saw Redlynn, gave a weak smile, and then hurried toward the village hall. Redlynn sniffed but said nothing. She was used to it. The village wanted her there, only because of who her ancestors were, and her expertise with a bow and sword.
A thatcher loaded up his wagon, not sparing her a moment’s glance. A group of young farmers stomped silently through the muddy streets toward their plots of land, south of the village wall.
At the village center, Redlynn pushed open the large doors to the Sisterhood headquarters. The scent of candle wax and incense wafted out. Anya’s body lay on the altar, atop a white linen sheet. Tall beeswax candles lined the walls, and robed sisters crushed Volkzene flowers into a paste. She approached Anya without a word, her stomach roiling with acid. Everyone stopped moving. She unfastened her cloak and set it on a wooden bench.
Redlynn’s mind flooded with the memory of Anya’s last words, and she swallowed hard.
“I can do this alone, Red. Trust me.”
Lillith moved forward in her cream ceremonial garb, the Sisterhood Bible in her hands. Three more Sisters joined her and began the Song of Lament to accompany Lillith’s sacred prayer. Redlynn let the words drift away, concentrating only on the task at hand. Picking up the bone needle and white thread, she began at Anya’s throat. She blinked rapidly, trying to abate her tears. She couldn’t mess this up. Anya deserved the best.
With each piercing of the skin, Redlynn begged for Anya’s forgiveness. For each tug of the thread, she swore to avenge her friend’s death. She memorized every detail of Anya’s wounds. Every bite, every tear. Counting them, until they all blended together in the blur of her tears.
When she finished, Redlynn took the wolfsbane paste and pressed the crushed flowers into Anya’s wounds, remembering each laugh, each smile, each moment of friendship they’d shared. The way Anya used to shake her hair out of her face. The determination in her eyes as she aimed her bow. The nights of holding Redlynn as she’d sobbed over the death of her mother.
The drone of Lillith’s voice stopped after what seemed like an eternity. Redlynn reached down, kissed Anya one last time.
“Sleep well, my sister. May you find peace on your new journey. My sword will bring thee vengeance, and my heart hold thee always.”
Redlynn didn’t even see the cloth that she wrapped Anya in through her stream of tears.
Redlynn couldn’t cope with the burning of her best friend’s body. To smell the flesh and hair as it charred. So instead, with eyes drained of water, like the Daemon Wastelands, she went home and collected her things. Her heart heavy, she looked at her mother’s portrait. Redlynn wondered once more why she resembled neither of her dark haired parents. Or anyone else in Volkzene for that matter.
Keeping to the shadows of her neighboring houses, she reached the dirt road and crossed through the wooden perimeter fencing. No one stood guard, again. So few Sisters remained in the village. Redlynn remembered a time when the Sisters lived to be eighty or longer. Now few of the Sisters lived beyond fifty if they survived childbirth. For a moment she wondered if she was doing the right thing. If she succeeded, they’d be safe indefinitely. If she didn't...
She turned, heading across the green toward the woods. Drawing near the tree line, she heard someone rushing up behind her.
“Red!”
She’d kept moving, ignoring Lillith’s call.
“Redlynn! As Head of the Order, I command you to stop!”
Redlynn halted and turned. Lillith’s ample chest heaved up and down.
“Where do you think you are going?” Lillith tried to catch her breath.
“Where does it look like?”
“I have forbidden anyone from entering the forest. My rules are law here.”
Redlynn wasn’t known for living by Lillith’s many rules. Unlike the other villagers, Redlynn wasn’t afraid of Lillith. With Anya gone now, she had nothing to lose.
“We need you here for protection,” Lillith continued.
“You can do it.”
“Me? I’m the Head of the Order; who’d lead us if I die?”
Redlynn’s head snapped up, and she met Lillith’s stare. The other woman glanced away. Her mother should’ve been the Head of the Sisterhood, like her ancestors before her. But due to Lillith’s scheming, her mother had been discredited. Redlynn didn’t know all the details. The denouncement had been held in a secret Sisterhood meeting before Redlynn had become a member. But she’d seen firsthand how it’d crushed and ultimately killed her mother.
“Then I guess you better start training the men to protect their daughters,” Redlynn bit out.
“Surely you jest? It’s been the Sisterhood. Always the Sisterhood. For as long as there have been Weres, there have been Sisters. They go hand in hand, they—" Lillith stopped short.
/> Redlynn studied Lillith’s face, and Lillith glanced away again. That nagging feeling that Lillith was keeping something from the Sisterhood rooted around in Redlynn's mind for the millionth time.
Pulling herself to her full height, Lillith tilted her chin up and glared at Redlynn. “If you leave now, you’ll be cast out.”
Redlynn didn't bother to conceal her smile. There it was. The final ultimatum. She wondered how long Lillith had dreamed of this moment. The threat meant nothing to Redlynn though. If she killed the King of the Weres, she’d be able to finally leave Volkzene and make a new life for herself. And if she didn’t...
“I can live with that.” Redlynn walked into the forest.
Lillith huffed behind her. “I mean it, Red! If you go, don’t come back.”
“Maybe you can find out how the Weres got into the village without the alarm going off while I’m gone,” she yelled over her shoulder.
Lillith ran into her moderate stone home and closed the door, locking it behind herself. She threw her hands over her face and screamed. What was she going to do? Red had defied her and gone into the woods. Her job was to keep the Sisters away from the wolves, and she’d failed.
She looked around at her fine things. Her beautiful furniture, her fine linens, her china. All things afforded her because of her position. They’d quickly be ripped away if she didn’t keep her part of the bargain. The people she answered to were not ones to be trifled with.
They’d shown her the way to seize control of the Sisterhood, but it was with the promise that she’d keep the Sisters contained. And she had, with one exception.
Lillith forced herself to focus and weigh her options. She could tell Dragos and suffer the punishment. She could follow Red and kill her. Or she could wait and see. The first option was sure to be a death sentence, and the second might be, as well.
She blew out a heavy breath. She’d wait. It was possible that Red would find nothing, or that she’d be killed by the wolves. Possibly something worse. Lillith’s eyes narrowed. Something worse…
She smiled and hustled into her bedroom. An ornate mirror sat on her dressing table. She settled into a chair in front of the mirror and pressed the inlaid red stone. It lit up instantly and glowed. The surface of the mirror shimmered.
“Terona, of Tanah Darah,” she commanded.
Chapter Two
Wolvenglen Forest warmed in the early spring light. A layer of dew laded the thick brush. The scent of moist dirt and leaves soothed Redlynn as always. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed running through the trees till that moment. In her loneliness, they comforted her like old friends. She’d been forbidden from coming into the woods since Lillith had taken over as Head of the Order.
Redlynn’s chest tightened, and she clutched her locket, as she adjusted to the flood of childhood memories: her mother, laughing and singing while picking herbs, teaching her which berries to pick, or how to take leaves without damaging the plants, lying on a bed of moss as sunlight warmed her skin, the taste of cool river water, a glimpse of her mother hugging someone.
Redlynn hopped over a rock, heading toward the northwest area of Wolvenglen Forest. Once as a girl she’d tracked a group of Weres, led by a giant red one. She’d been hunting while her mother gathered herbs, and she’d spotted them near the caves. Now she was counting on them still subsisting there.
Redlynn trudged through ancient redwoods, stopping an hour later to fill her satchel with mushrooms and berries. She sucked the juice out of the sweet, purple draepons. The sun trickling down through the dense foliage, lighting on delicate violets sprouting from the ground. A blue-green hummingbird darted back and forth before continuing on.
A doe with her baby froze yards from where Redlynn sat. The doe’s ears swiveled, and her tail flicked, sensing danger. After a last hesitation, the doe fled from her presence.
“They don’t like me, Mama.” She’d been gathering herbs one morning when she was six.
“Not true, Red. They fear the queen of the forest, as all animals should,” her mother replied.
There was a snap behind her. Stiffening, Redlynn removed her bow from her back in a fluid movement and notched an arrow. Her bowstring groaned from being pulled taut.
Another twig snapped, and she trained her sight ten degrees to the right. The leaves rustled on a plumor bush. Her bicep quaked with the strain of steadying her string. Breathing slow and deep, she held still, waiting for the attack.
Closer… closer… wait for it… wait… A warthog thundered through the brush and charged. She loosed the arrow, and it flew true, hitting the beast in the eye. The animal squealed and crashed to a halt, mere feet from where she stood.
Redlynn blew out a ragged breath, her blood thumping in her ears. Pulling her dagger from her boot she plunged it into the animal's neck. A warthog. Not even close to a Were. If she were nearer to home, she’d drag it to the village and have food enough for months. As it was, she’d have to leave it. What a waste. She set her foot on the animal’s shoulder for leverage and yanked the arrow free. Wiping the blood from her dagger on her boot, she stuck the arrow into her quiver.
Redlynn spent the day trudging toward where she remembered the caves to be. Not even finding one wolf track she searched for a secure place to sleep as the sun set. A tree with a hollow trunk and a slightly clear area around it caught her eye. She made her way over and peered inside. If she curled up some, it’d be large enough. Redlynn shook off her gear and pushed it through the hole, then unstrapped her bedroll and shoved it in, as well.
After setting up her things, she used a rock to dig in the damp earth, shaping a fire pit and surrounding it with stones. Normally she wouldn’t try to attract attention by building such a large fire, but if it were large enough, maybe she could draw the Weres out.
Laying the base with sticks, she used her flint and tinder. The fire caught fast. Redlynn sat against her shelter and pulled an apple from her pocket. She unsheathed a hunting knife from her boot and peeled off the skin, playing and replaying the events of Anya’s cleansing in her mind.
A tear slipped from her eye and dribbled down her cheek. Cutting a piece of an apple Yanti had given her, she closed her eyes and shook her head to clear it.
The hours dragged on, and the temperature dropped rapidly. Redlynn pulled her cloak tighter, exhausted from the events of the last twenty-four hours. But the anticipation of a fight left her antsy, despite her weary state.
She grabbed two logs from the pile she’d collected; she threw them in the pit and slipped into her hollow. Curling up in her bedroll, she covered herself with her cloak. She stared at the fire, bleary-eyed.
Over the last five years she’d watched Sisters find men and settle down, taking them out of active membership in the Sisterhood. Or leaving the village, never to be heard from again.
Just once, she wished that she’d find someone who looked at her with affection, instead of turning away from her like she was deformed. Maybe if she moved to a different village, and got a fresh start, she’d find a place where she fit in. Possibly in the farmlands, or in Westfall. She could start an apothecary like her mother.
Redlynn blinked slowly, uneasiness scratched up her spine. Silence permeated the air, but for the roaring fire. She sat up and pushed out of the tree. The crickets no longer chirped, and no animals rustled.
Wind blew the smoke from the campfire in her direction, and she coughed lightly. She stood and strapped on her sword. Her skin prickled. Redlynn scanned the surrounding area, her heart thudding in her chest. The crackles and pops of the logs on the fire sounded abnormally loud in the silence.
A faint rustle emanated from the bushes on the other side of the fire. She grabbed her bow, notching an arrow. Calming her breathing, she strained to see into the blackness beyond the glow. This is it. What you’ve been waiting for your whole life, to become a hunter.
Crunching sounded from behind her, and she spun around, aiming at the unseen assailant. A snap came from the othe
r direction, and she spun back. Keep it together!
Redlynn breathed deep and remembered her training. She backed into the tree she’d been hiding in, not allowing herself to be surrounded.
I can get off three shots.
A Were broke through the darkness directly across from her, a guttural growl escaping the beast’s chest. Twice the size of a normal wolf, it stood five feet at the shoulders. Its golden fur glistened in the firelight. Her palms were slick as she let her first arrow fly. One. It caught the Were in the shoulder, and the wolf released an anguished howl. The beast’s chocolate eyes trained on Redlynn. Several other Weres entered the clearing, circling about her. Pulling another arrow, she shot again at the golden Were. Two. He bared his teeth and batted it away with the swipe of a paw.
A grey Were lunged, and she swung her bow, striking it on the nose. The animal yelped, stumbled and hit a log from the fire, sending it across the ground, snapping and spitting. The Weres stepped away, watching her. She loosed another arrow, but the Weres moved out of the way easily, and it sailed off into the trees. Three.
They were toying with her. Crap.
“Enough games,” she yelled, throwing her bow to the ground and taking off her long cloak. Her mind calculated the best option for attack. Unsheathing her sword, she swung at the grey Were, slicing into his flank. The beast yelped and stumbled, blood oozing from his wound.
Redlynn lunged at him again and thrust her sword into his side. Pulling the sword free, she swung wide and prepared to finish him, but the golden Were attacked from behind, knocking her off balance, and the Grey escaped into the woods. Dammit!
The golden Were knocked her to the earth, her face close to the flames. Angered by the escaped Were, Redlynn flipped herself away from the searing heat. She fumbled and lost hold of her sword. He pounced on her, pinning her to the dirt with his crushing weight. Its giant maw was inches from her face, encasing her in the stench of its hot breath.
Red the Were Hunter (Fairelle Series Book 1) Page 2