Edgelanders (Serpent of Time)

by Jennifer Melzer

  As children they’d been inseparable playmates, and when the time came for first transformations, they’d made theirs together. After their mother died, the two of them had taken to the task of watching over Finn the same way they’d done everything since they were children: together. Now he was going to just leave her there, and he knew in his heart she would never forgive him.

  “Rue,” he stammered. “He’s going to need me out there.”

  She spat at him, the warm, sticky saliva dripping down his face as the guards grabbed her from behind and began dragging her backward away from them.

  “I’m always with you, little sister,” he called after her. “Always!”

  Ruwena growled and raged as the guards struggled to draw her from the room. Kicking, screaming, he could feel her rage inside himself and it tore him to pieces. With sickness in his stomach, he turned to face the room. Taking in a deep breath, he held it in until he could feel the righteousness burning inside him like fire. How funny, he thought, that a single event, a fleeting moment in time could change a man completely. Less than hour ago he’d marched into the main hall ready to do whatever it took to separate his brother from the strange, broken girl he’d brought into their lives. Now he was willing to do whatever it took to get his brother and that young woman through the tasks that lay ahead because Llorveth had a plan for them. A plan not one among the U’lfer could deny.

  “You can strike our names from the record, mourn us as though we’ve died, but you were here.” Jerking his chained wrist free for a moment, he pointed his finger into the crowd of gasping onlookers. “All of you were here and you will not forget what happened tonight. Call it sorcery if you like, but I saw what I saw. For a fleeting moment that girl held the very essence of our god inside her, and he looked out upon us all through her eyes. Once she is gone from this place, and you are all nestled safely in your homes tonight, remember what you saw here and then ask yourself before you say your nightly prayers if what Llorveth saw tonight when he glimpsed us through her eyes should make you proud, or ashamed.”

  “Enough of this. Take them away.” Cobin waved them off almost nonchalantly, as if he were finally brushing bothersome crumbs from his hands.

  Vilnjar felt the silver chains tighten as the guards on either side of him drew together to drive him away from the hall. Rue’s outraged screams could still be heard as they pushed him through the hall.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Six guards and a horse carrying enough provisions to get them through the journey to the border departed from Drekne less than an hour after they were ejected from the council meeting. Vilnjar marveled over the fact that they already had the provisions packed, but Finn expected it. Chancellor Cobin wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to get rid of Mad Finn the Reckless, and Vilnjar, well, he’d always been something of an over-achiever, an eventual challenger for Cobin’s authority if left to his own devices.

  Getting him out of the picture was probably just the icing on the cake.

  Cake.

  The mere thought of a spongy chunk of spiced cake drenched in whipped honey cream made Finn’s empty stomach rumble. Going without a meal was unheard of for Finn, but he couldn’t remember when the last time he’d actually eaten a proper meal was. Breakfast, maybe? And even then it had been a quick bowl of boiled oats, barely enough to fill his belly. Lorelei hadn’t eaten at all after she woke. Edla had made sure she received sustenance during healing, but now that he thought about it, he realized she probably hadn’t physically eaten since the night he’d found her.

  She must be so hungry, and a girl as small as she was couldn’t afford to be hungry.

  “You all right over there, Princess?”

  He leaned out across Brogen the Bulwark to have a look at her and didn’t like what he saw. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Since the moment he’d first laid eyes on her he’d wanted nothing more than to look at her, but she looked like she was about to drop into a puddle in the middle of the road and let the horse trample over her. They’d been on the road for hours, Finn doing most of the talking, but underneath the surface of things he could feel her natural rhythms and she was fading fast.

  Turning her head to look at him, her small mouth twitched with an appreciative grin.

  “I’ll live.”

  She better live. They had things to do together, the two of them.

  He didn’t know what awaited them in Rimian, if anything at all, but he still believed what Rhiorna told him. He’d known it before she even said the words. She was his mate. You are supposed to be exiled with her. This is all part of his plan for our people. Whatever that plan was he hoped the road to its achievement was worth it. Glancing over at Lorelei again, the warm surge of comfort he felt to merely look at her told him it was already worth it. It had been worth it the minute he first lowered his nose to her neck and breathed in her scent, touched her skin with his.

  Wherever she had to go, he would follow. His heart wouldn’t let him go anywhere else. That in itself was a strange change of pace. Finn had never made time for the opposite sex, which wasn’t to say he didn’t get plenty of attention from the handful of female wolves close to his age in Drekne. Even a few of the older women had gone out of their way to get his attention. Being mad and reckless gave him an irresistible charm, an air of danger that attracted the fairer sex. There’d been a few he’d played along with for a while, but for the most part he hadn’t ever really cared.

  Not until Lorelei.

  His mate.

  When they parted ways on the border to Rimian, the guards were instructed to give them the horse and any remaining provisions. Seeing as there were nine of them, Finn highly doubted there would be anything left when they got there but the horse. Horse wouldn’t be the worst thing he’d ever eaten, but judging from the signs of exhaustion she was already exhibiting, Lorelei was probably going to need to ride. Or he could carry her. He’d done it once, and despite the jokes he made about nearly throwing his back out, he’d do it again without issue. He’d carry her to the end of the world and back if that was what he had to do.

  “Well, if you need me to carry you, you just say the word. Oh, wait. I’m all chained up like an animal. Sorry, Princess.”

  He swore she turned into her shoulder to stifle a small giggle. The sound was music to his soul, and for a time he contented himself with thoughts of a better day, a day when she knew him the way he knew her and everything was laughter and smiles. Despite the circumstances, such a day had to be in their future. Exile wasn’t going to be the end for them.

  “It’s okay. I can walk.”

  “You won’t be able to walk much further if you don’t get some food in you.”

  Food wouldn’t be a problem once they got where they were going. There was surely plenty of game he could hunt, frozen little bunny rabbits, probably elk and deer. Once they’d crossed the border into Rimian, the invisible shackles their treaty with King Aelfric had put on the beast would be broken. He could transform at will if he wanted, and hunt the tundra to feed them all. Vilnjar wouldn’t like it, but then no one had really invited him.

  “I can hear your belly all the way over here. Maybe our kind escort would allow us to stop and take a moment’s rest so you can eat something.”

  No one said anything, and they didn’t stop walking.

  So that was how it was going to be then?

  “Or not.”

  The guards charged with leading them out of Drekne and onto the southern road were people Finn had known all his life. Men who contributed to his ascent into manhood. Necal taught him to block with a shield. Krestof showed him how wield an axe. Brogen trained him mercilessly with the broadsword. They’d all taught him how to protect himself without resorting to the violent nature of the beast within. Gorod used to call him son and tousle his hair, and Farnek shared dirty jokes with him when he was still too young to understand why they were dirty and told him not to tell his brother where he’d heard them.

  They were all
men he would have trusted with his life if it ever came down to fighting side by side to protect their people from an outside invasion. They treated him no better than a stranger now that he’d been cast out. Two hours they’d been on the road already, and not one of them had even so much as looked at them or said a word. Not even to tell them to keep moving when Lorelei stumbled in the dark over a stone on the path. Both guards watching over her sprang into action, as if her stumble were some underhanded attempt to escape, and had he not felt the faint echo of pain that little stumble had caused her, he might have laughed at their diligence.

  Six men had been assigned to see them safely to their death, two for each prisoner, and though they had assisted him in his training, Finn knew he was better than all six of those men put together. Freedom from the chains that bound him would be their death and he had a feeling they all knew it. The difference between those six men and Finn was that Finn wasn’t afraid to welcome his beast, and without those chains that beast would rise and tear them all apart.

  Still, it made him a little sad. He’d once respected those men, looked up to them and sought so desperately to win their approval and respect as a warrior. When they’d dragged and shoved Lorelei to get her back on her feet, the beast within stirred with a vengeance, and the greatest part of him wanted to shred them into unidentifiable pieces by the roadside and revel in the spray of their blood.

  But that was wrong. The sting of silver against his skin reminded him that it was wrong. Just because he indulged his beast, didn’t mean he had to be an animal. Shaking off the greatest part of that impulsive desire, he actually found himself glancing through the darkness at Lorelei again and wondering how she might react to that sort of display. Even more bizarre was that he wondered how her reaction might affect him. Rhiorna said there was a beast inside her too, and he could smell it in her blood, but the idea itself seemed to terrify her. How differently would she look at him when he showed her who he truly was?

  The searing pain of silver burned through his skin, and he could smell the faint scent of his own flesh sizzling in reaction, but he wouldn’t let them see his pain. Pain made a man stronger, forced him to calculate his weaknesses and stack them into pillars of strength he could draw from when the time came to rage. The funny thing was, the only time Finn even felt the desire to rage was when he heard Lorelei gasp and whimper in pain. He saw bright flashes of red at the mere thought of someone hurting her, and while her flesh didn’t seem to react the same way theirs did to silver, the tightness of the chains around her wrists was cutting off her circulation and they were only about six miles outside of Drekne.

  It was at least another twenty miles to Breken, the only other village of any significance in the Edgelands, but no one would see them pass through in the darkest hours of the morning. He was almost disappointed by that, some part of him wanting the whole world to know where they were going and why. No one had ever been exiled before. Three of them being cast out at once would definitely stir up conversation.

  Conversations their people had been avoiding for almost two decades.

  He couldn’t imagine how much agony the three of them would be in after more than two endless days of travel, without rest, to the southern border. If everything they’d heard about Rimian were true, there would probably be no rest when they finally arrived at their final destination. Maybe they would find shelter in the mountains, make a small camp there and rest until the reality of what lay ahead of them sunk in.

  Finn was all right with that. He’d once gone almost two weeks without sleep and he could handle it, but Lorelei was still weak from the injuries the healer mended and Vilnjar had spent the last six years of his life sitting in a chair in the main hall searching for answers to the pressing matter of racial extinction.

  That alone made his presence on the road to exile feel wrong. What was he doing there? Why would he leave Rue like that? The two of them had always been so close, and their need to battle one another for Finn’s care and well-being had never come between them before. Several times he thought to ask his brother about it, but there was a part of him that didn’t really want to know the answer. He kept imagining it was something self-righteous and arrogant, that if he asked Viln why he’d thrown away everything he’d worked his entire life to achieve, the answer would only make him angry, and Finn was already harboring enough anger and resentment toward his brother to last him a lifetime.

  Always sticking his big nose into everything, trying to fix the parts of Finn’s life he thought were broken. No matter how many times Finn told him he liked his life just the way it was, promises of eventual exile, condemnation and all, Vilnjar just couldn’t accept his brother for who he was.

  You are supposed to be exiled with her. This is all part of his plan for our people.

  Rhiorna hadn’t said, “You and your brother are supposed to be exiled with her.” There was no afterthought stating, “Vilnjar is part of Llorveth’s plan for our people.”

  Yet, there he was, bound in silver chains and marching along on the opposite side of Lorelei like he belonged there.

  “You know what would be great right about now,” Finn mused. “A sandwich. Maybe two sandwiches. I don’t think I realized how hungry I was until I got that whole exiling over with. The tension and anticipation and all that. A part of me was actually worried they wouldn’t really go through with it. And seeing a god, that takes a lot out of a man.”

  “I’m so glad this whole thing is turning out exactly the way you always dreamed,” Viln called over to him.

  “Oh, you bet it is. Apart from being so hungry I can barely think, I can’t wait to get to Rimian.”

  “I have a feeling you’ll change your tune the minute you can’t even feel your toes inside your boots.”

  “Who needs toes?”

  His brother actually laughed, a sound Finn’s twisted sense of humor rarely elicited. Even Lorelei seemed to offer a little snort to that, but it wasn’t long before the laughter died, bringing the silence back with a vengeance. They traveled another mile with nothing but the occasional whine and grumble of their bellies, the scuff of their footsteps and the clanking of chains to amuse them, and the silence gave Finn no choice but to evaluate it.

  It was after dark, sure, but the night was generally alive with sound, even so late into the autumn. Crickets and frog songs didn’t start to disappear until after the first frost, which seemed to be late in the coming that year. He cocked his head and listened to the silence, deciding immediately that it was the most unnatural thing he’d ever heard. Wrong in ways that made the beast within uncomfortable, and he wondered if Vilnjar felt it too.

  Something wasn’t right, and it hadn’t been right since they left Drekne, but he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was.

  Step, shuffle, clank. Step, shuffle, clank. All three of them moved in unison, and in the brief space of silence he could almost hear something else. A faint rustling through the dried leaves in the distance. Without drawing attention to himself, Finn lifted his face toward the trees on his left and breathed deep just as the faint wind shifted through the branches.

  Musk mingled with the scent of sweat and fur cloaked in earth and pine, and for a fleeting moment he swore he could feel the bad intent associated with those smells.

  Wolves.

  They were being followed, but that wasn’t quite right either. The beast within him was at full attention now, rising, stretching defensively toward the surface but quickly shying back the moment it felt the burn of silver seeping into his flesh.

  They were being hunted.

  No wonder the guards had nothing to say. They weren’t leading the prisoners to exile, but their own slaughter. The wolf shifted uncomfortably beneath his skin, a silent trickle of helpless fear rolling the length of his spine. If they were attacked, they’d be completely defenseless in those silver chains, but getting out them wasn’t going to be easy. He had to find a way to alert his brother. If he felt what was out there, a simple cue w
ould be enough, but he wasn’t nearly as connected to Viln as he was to Rue. All he had to do was think a thing and Rue responded, but there was a barrier between Vilnjar and himself that made communication downright impossible.

  “Viln,” he said casually, “do you remember that song our mother used to sing?”

  “Which one? There were so many.”

  “That one about the ambush at Briar Lake?”

  “I don’t remember that one.”

  Of course he wouldn’t remember it. It wasn’t an actual song, but he’d been hoping the word ambush would be enough of a clue. “Maybe if I sing it for you…”

  “Please, no,” Viln begged. “If I’m going to spend the rest of my days in exile with you, I’d ask that you sing as little as possible.”

  But it was already too late. Before Viln even finished his request, Finn belted into song, making it up line by line. “The moons were low, the night was dark, the wolves were in the trees, waiting for the king’s men to slip out of their greaves. ‘Round the fire they sat and drank, told tales of battle’s won, until the wolves charged in and ate them one by one.”

  “I don’t…” his brother started, halting in mid-sentence as if remembering. It was a subtle action, but Finn caught it. Vilnjar lifted his face into the wind and caught the scent. “Oh yes, I remember. She didn’t sing that one very often to me, but then it wasn’t exactly council-friendly. I do remember it now that you mention it. How did the chorus go?”

  Good, he got the message.

  “That’s why I brought it up. I’ve been singing it all night, but I can’t remember anything but the first few lines. I thought maybe you might.”

  “Not right off hand. Do any of you guys remember that song?” Viln asked the guard.

  No one answered.

  “Just as well.” Finn shrugged. “It wasn’t a very good song anyway. I think the queen was sleeping in her tent or something, and she came out with a blade drawn to hack the wolves to pieces.”