The Longing of Lone Wolves

by Lana Pecherczyk

  “This time, I’m giving it to you. A mouth for a mouth. Whose mouth will be the sacrifice for the new one coming into the world? Yours? Clarke’s?”

  There had been no question.

  Rush checked his surroundings to make sure he’d landed through the portal in the correct place. The stench in the air was the first clue that he had.

  Cornucopia was a sometimes shanty trading town, sometimes luxe getaway, for those who wanted debauchery, anonymity, and indulgence. Half the city was a mess of clay and stone houses. The other half, glass and precious gems glittering in the sun. The problem was, it all mixed together. Walk down any street and you’d get a shanty next to a mansion. The rough next to the sweet. The rich next to the poor.

  It was why people loved it there.

  He chewed on some sweet grass and stared at the city with the morning sun peeking over the horizon of jigsaw building tops. Already the bustling sounds filtered down to him. Cornucopia never slept.

  The fact you have no legacy has nothing to do with me.

  Fuck the Prime.

  If you want to save your unborn child, then you will do exactly as I say.

  Ditching the spent portal stone into the bush beside a dirt track, Rush adjusted Starcleaver on his back and set out toward Cornucopia.

  Clarke would forgive him for this. She had to. It was for the good of Thorne and the good of the unborn. The Prime may be a manipulative pain in his ass, but he believed her. She’d said the only way to save Clarke and the child was to end Thaddeus. And then put another Nightstalk in his place as leader of Crescent Hollow. His sister. He didn’t have to like that the Prime used him again, but he would not leave this world without a legacy. It was exactly what that scheming owl had counted on.

  A mishmash of Seelie and Unseelie poured in and out of the front gate. It wasn’t really a gate, per-say, but an opening in the wall twenty feet wide. There were no guards and no soldiers manning the entrance. Enter at your own peril, the sign said. The line bottle necked, and he slowed behind a group of shifters, careful not to bump into them. He could smell the fire-taint on them but could distinguish no breed. They weren’t wolf, that was all he knew.

  Beggars held out their hands for food or coin, but as he walked past, their eyes glazed over and they shifted their outstretched arms to the fae behind him. A buzzing overhead alerted him to a harem of pixies flying. Four males and their queen heading the formation with pride from the front.

  Damned pixies and their wings, always skipping the line.

  Now he was just plain grumpy. He ground his teeth. He hated being here on the Prime’s insistence. Especially since he’d regretted being her puppet for so long. It was like she’d beat him to this conclusion. He’d never know if he would have come here on his own. But he knew it was the right choice.

  Just as he got to the delta, his impatience wore thin. A commotion had stopped the progress of entry. He spat out the masticated mess of sweet grass and withdrew his sword. He used the length to prod and poke fae folk out of the way so he could get to the front with minimal contact. For the rest of them, his curse worked to move people and leave them forgetful in his wake. He got near the front and stopped to see a young female fae with her wrist caught by a meaty looking orc covered in dirt. The satchel bag that had been over the orc’s shoulder had spilled to the floor. The smell of sour mud, sweat and shit made Rush want to gag, but the scent hadn’t come from the bag. Inside was exotic red fruit the orc had probably come to sell.

  The girl had red stained fingertips and lips. She’d also pissed her pants because the moment they had caught her, she’d signed her warrant to be sent to the Ring. Unless she paid for the fruit, that was, but from the looks of the scrawny thing, she had no coin.

  “Not magic, not my problem,” was the first thought to enter Rush’s mind. Guardians were there to deal in magical disputes, magical monsters, and the preservation of the well.

  But that was the Prime’s legacy. Not his.

  He tightened his grip on Starcleaver and sized up the orc. How to deal with this?

  The orc just wanted to make a living.

  The girl just wanted to eat.

  Was one more right than the other? Should either die?

  He grunted. Fuck this meddling shit. He sheathed the sword and dug into his pocket to find some coin. He tossed it between them. The instant the coin left his hands, it became visible and glinted in the sun. Every fae in the vicinity caught sight of the red flashing glass and pandemonium broke loose. Bodies dived for the money. Big. Small. Winged. Furred. Fists went flying. Jaws got punched. Weapons were drawn.

  And that’s when a gap opened, big enough for him to slide through untouched. He entered the bustling metropolis unaffected. On a whim, he glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of the red-stained-lip girl escaping under the legs of greedy fae.

  With a smile, he turned toward the Ring. It was the last known location of his sister, and hopefully where he would find her working today. What the Prime counted on was that Rush had kept some kind of relationship with his sister. And she was right. There had been little Rush’s curse let him do. He’d tried to write letters, but every time he put pen to paper, the curse knew his intentions. He couldn’t finish the words. But he’d found loopholes. He had managed to drop coin for Kyra every time he visited. He had managed to use Starcleaver to prod the odd overzealous patron at the Ring, stopping them from causing Kyra mischief as she provided security. And then he’d managed to stay out of her life when it became clear she’d sensed his presence and not being able to communicate had caused her grief.

  A clean break always healed the quickest.

  And now he was back.

  In the past weeks, the Prime had written letters explaining the new situation. If Kyra had received them, and believed the content, then she would have finished up work and now be waiting for him. A small part of him hoped she believed the letters. The rest was convinced she would take one look, laugh hysterically, and then incinerate them.

  And stay safe.

  Kyra’s life had been ruined too.

  Rush arrived outside the giant colosseum and searched along the outskirts. If this were night, the inside would roar with bloodlust. This morning it was eerily quiet and emptied. The last battle it served had finished hours ago. He could scent the water being hosed to wash away the blood and eviscerated body parts left on the Ring’s floor.

  As Kyra worked the security at the doors, she most likely had worked all night. While the battle inside the Ring was to settle scores, occasionally the bloodlust spilled into the crowd. Especially if the two fae settling the score were representatives of a larger group.

  He walked around the perimeter until a familiar scent hit his nose. Kin. He crested a corner to see his sister standing tall, tough, and proud against the buttress of an alcove. Long silver hair caught in a segmented ponytail dangled over a shoulder, almost hitting her ass. Folded arms. Set jaw. And a scrunched up letter in her hand.

  She’d aged.

  He wondered if she’d say the same for him. Humans believed the fae to be immortal. But they only aged in different, more subtle ways. The light in her eyes, the hard set to her shoulders, the way she favored one leg. It was all a sign of her times not within his orbit. He’d missed so much.

  But she was there. Waiting.

  Holding his breath, he stepped up to her and dropped his sword on the ground at her feet. The Prime had told him that all he needed to do to let her know he was there was to activate the portal stone, but he wanted to do more. He needed to show he was putting his faith in her, that he was there for her and that together they would take down their tyrannical uncle. The only way to do that was to lay down his prized weapon. A symbol of the organization that forbade him in the past from getting involved.

  But this was his choice as much as the Prime’s. It had been a long time coming.

  Kyra blinked as Starcleaver came into being and then her eyes hardened. She threw the letters on the ground.
It took her a long time before she gathered the compunction to speak. “I don’t hear from you for years, and then I get these? What am I supposed to do with this?”

  He couldn’t answer. Even if he did, she wouldn’t hear.

  She put her hands on her hips and paced a few feet of the colosseum wall. “I thought you were dead. You’re a stranger to me. Your son—who is a Guardian—is more known to me. And now you want me to go back to the Hollow to fight an evil son-of-a-bitch for a title I don’t want? That I never had?” She threw her hands up in the air. “I mean. You didn’t want it either. Right? You’re the one who told me to stay away.”

  She paused, crouched and squeezed the bridge of her nose. Taking deep breaths, she finally said, “I thought I’d put this all behind me.” She steeled herself and stood up. “There is nothing left for me there. Why go back?”

  Rush did the only thing he could think of. He picked up Starcleaver and fought the curse to scratch a word into the stone path. REVENGE.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  In the field outside the cadre houses, Leaf triggered a portal with his power, and sent the three winged Guardians through first. Then Thorne shifted into wolf as he went. Clarke was next.

  Her stomach already churned at the thought of what would greet her on the other side. Bile hit the back of her throat and her hand flew to cover her mouth. She hadn’t even traveled yet.

  “You’ll get used to it,” Leaf said from beside her.

  “When?”

  He shoved her between the shoulder blades and pushed her through.

  She landed in the field before Crescent Hollow and vomited. It took her a good few minutes before she could straighten, and when she did, there was no sign of life. No fee-lions flittering about. No soldiers manning the gate. Even the wind failed to blow.

  Cages lined the walls as far as she could see. Each had a body inside. Each was dead silent. Including that of Anise, closest to the gate.

  Fear gripped her heart and she started running. She got two feet before brawny hands slipped under her arms and lifted her clear off the ground. Kicking in a mad panic, she almost screamed as she lifted higher. Something had her.

  “For a Seer, you’re terrible at looking.”

  A shadow crossed her face as something blocked the sun, and the beat of wings gave her the final clue. Her gaze clashed with Shade’s scowl. In angel form, his wings flapped from his back. He dipped and arced, turning them around in a deft maneuver, coasting to where Leaf closed the portal with some kind of hand signal and push of power. Rush had said the elves were better at using mana than any of them combined. She guessed that included creating natural portals without needing to imbue stones with a spell.

  The moment her feet hit the ground, Clarke rounded on Shade. “Why did you stop me?”

  “Are you mad? You never run into a hostile environment. Not without checking to see if it is safe.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek. He was right. Just because she could set books on fire and blast candle flames out, didn’t mean she was a warrior. She had to calm down. Her strength lay in reading the future, and that was all about being calm enough to see the waves rocked by the boat. But... Anise. Still no movement in the cage.

  “Are they dead?” she whispered.

  Leaf’s blue eyes narrowed with focus. “I don’t think so, but Thorne’s wolf ears will hear best.” He looked at the big white wolf.

  Thorne cocked his head, pricked his ears up and then dipped his head in what could be construed as a nod. Leaf turned to Cloud, Haze and Shade and pointed to the sky. He swirled his finger up.

  All three took to the sky and spread out, flying in opposite directions. Two with the dark leathery wings of a bat, and the third with feathered wings as deep as the night sky. Soon, they disappeared against the backdrop of the azure and Clarke couldn’t tell if it was because of their distance or if they’d used some kind of magical glamor to hide their appearance.

  The sound of air ripped behind them. All three spun in time to see another portal burst into existence with blinding clarity.

  Thorne’s hackles raised. Leaf put his hand out, signaling for Thorne to stay. Clarke concentrated on her inner gift but felt no ill omens. Whoever was coming through wasn’t the enemy.

  A white-haired woman walked through holding a long curved bone scimitar in each hand. Tall, striking, and formidable, the female fae looked akin to a shield maiden stepping out of Viking lore. She was not someone Clarke wanted to get on the wrong side of. Her fur tipped ears flattened in a sign of aggression, but her eyes softened when they landed on Thorne. With that white hair, Clarke thought she must be a wolf, and perhaps related. Yes. Clarke knew who she was.

  “You’re Rush’s sister,” she said. “Kyra.”

  Kyra turned her way, narrowed her eyes, and then she said to Leaf, “Are you here to hinder us, or help us?”

  Us?

  Another figure came through the portal and paused, eyes wide and glued to her. Rush. Her stomach flipped. In the short time he’d left her, already her heart sang to see him again. Already she’d forgotten how terrible she’d felt when he simply disappeared. No goodbye. No explanation.

  A yawning chasm of the unknown gaped between them. It could be closed with a simple few words, but the thoughts flitting behind his eyes were no sign he was ready to speak. No. He looked furious that she was there. Nostrils flared. Jaw clenched. Tendons at his neck taut.

  His anger gave way to confusion as he caught sight of Thorne and Leaf. He closed the portal and then threw a mana-stone on the floor. It bounced and sizzled on the grass, spent.

  “What are you doing here, Clarke?” He took a step her way with a growl of frustration. “You should be back at the Order, safe.”

  “And yet here you are.”

  “I’m a Guardian.” Gold lightning flashed.

  “Oh, cut the shit, Rush. I know a con when I see one. You’re not here because of some duty to the Well. It’s for Thaddeus and Crescent Hollow. Why won’t you admit that?”

  Why wasn’t she good enough for the truth?

  He stared at her.

  She stared back. “What difference does it make if you tell me the truth? I’m here for the same reason. Why can’t you speak plainly for once?”

  “Clarke,” he ground out. “Get Leaf to make a portal and send you home. Before it’s too late.”

  “You know what?” she laughed. “Maybe if you had told me what you planned from the start, I’d still be there. Did you ever think that?”

  To the rest of them, she must look like a crazy woman shouting at thin air, but they all knew who it was. She didn’t need to make him visible. And she wasn’t sure she was strong enough for them to hear her worst fears come into existence.

  “It’s not safe here,” he said. “For you, or—”

  “The baby?” She raised her brows. “Yes, I know. I also know that you conspired with the Prime to be here. But what I don’t know is why you’re doing it alone. I would have supported you in this. Why not tell me?”

  And there it was on his face. The same look he’d given her in the library. The one that had said he’d given up. He didn’t expect to come back.

  Her face screwed up. Anger, denial, and pain lashed out. “No! You don’t get to do this! I was working on a solution, Goddammit.”

  She was going to track down that forbidden part of the library. She’d sensed it there. Just a few more days was all she needed. It was the next step. She was good at stealing things. They would never know.

  “There is no solution for unsanctioned breeding. This is the second time for me. Véda took the brunt of the punishment before. A mouth for a mouth. That’s the law. If I don’t die, then you will have to. Do you understand? I may as well do it protecting this village.”

  “A mouth for a mouth? Is that what the Prime said to get you to do her bidding? She’s using you!” she hissed low. “Did she tell you it’s her fault the breeding law is still active? The king was going to end it, but sh
e convinced him to keep it. She gave him Jasper as an incentive.”

  From the way he took the hit of news without a flinch, he already knew. Or he didn’t care. He knew his life had been one big manipulation, but he was here anyway. Because it was the right thing to do.

  “What did she tell you to get you here?” Clarke pushed.

  “She said only one outcome predicted you stayed alive after the birth. I have to make a stand with Kyra and fight for Crescent Hollow.”

  “Make a stand and fight with Kyra,” she repeated the words for the sake of those listening. “And why did that mean keeping secrets?”

  “Because… you know why.”

  “Because you’ll die. That’s why.”

  “Clarke,” he said, voice flat. “It was always going to end this way.”

  “Says you!”

  “Says everyone.” Rush unstrapped the dagger from his belt and held it out to her. “Take it.”

  “No.” She stepped back, throat clogging. “Stay away from me.”

  But he wouldn’t stop coming. The bastard knew she’d asked for his dagger once, and he didn’t trust her enough to arm her. Now he was freely giving her one. Coward.

  She was the coward. She pointed at him. “You’re going to leave me.”

  He stepped closer.

  She stepped back. “Without even saying goodbye. Who will hold me at night? Who will keep the nightmares at bay?”

  Kyra came up to Clarke. She had something in her hands. Some papers. Or letters. She held them out to Clarke. “These will explain everything.”

  While her face was full of compassion, her eyes were full of painful understanding. It was a look of shared heartache. She knew what Clarke was going through. What she would go through. Clarke’s gaze darted to Leaf and the wolf standing further back... even they looked at her like she was some poor victim.

  She was never the victim. But she’d never been alone. First her father, then her girlfriends Laurel and Ada. It was clear to her that she needed to be surrounded by good people. She couldn’t stop anything on her own, let alone face an omnipotent black void she couldn’t even identify. And now... her hand fluttered to her belly. She had another little life growing inside, one that needed her to be strong.