Panic seized her, and she crawled through the blood-spattered snow on her hands and knees to reach him. She didn’t feel the frozen crystals scrape across her bare palms until she reached him. Hand sweeping outward, she gripped his soft black fur in her bloodied hands and pulled herself up to stand against him. Teeth bared in attack, he was a fearsome sight to behold, his maw dripping red, brilliant white teeth stained with blood.
“Finn.” She shook him, staring through tear-blurred eyes at the monster frozen before her. “Finn, I don’t know what’s happening.”
His long, thick arm was reaching outward in an attack that would never be completed, a scene that reminded her of the stuffed beasts posed in fierce, elegant battle in her father’s trophy room. He and the two wolves he’d been battling were suspended in mid-attack, his long, thick arm drawn back and ready to shoot forward and knock them back with a wide sweep that would never be completed.
Hand still resting on Finn’s arm, she turned over her shoulder and scanned the eerie scene until she found Vilnjar on his back in the snow. His attacker leaped forward, hanging several feet above him as if dangling from a puppeteer’s strings. “Vilnjar!” his name echoed through the valley, reverberating off the mountain and playing back at her until it faded. “What’s happening?”
The horn blasted again, sounding in three short gales off the mountains, and when Lorelei turned her head toward the sound she saw a distinct pattern of movement streaming toward her in a world that seemed to be holding its breath. Dark, streaming flags flickered on the wind, and despite the distance she could actually hear the snap of their fabric rattling in that unreal silence.
All the fear she’d felt in battle intensified tenfold, until even her bones and muscles ached with terror. Her legs were pillars of jelly, trembling so fiercely she thought she was going to collapse. Sinking her fingers deeper into Finn’s slick black fur, she spun in again to face him and began pounding at his massive chest with her other hand to try and break whatever spell held him in thrall.
“Finn!” she screamed, the pitch of her voice battling desperately against the keen of the wind. “Please, Finn, wake up. Please!”
His unblinking eyes stared forward, blue as winter, and in their reflection she could see the snow fall, squalls of wind lifting it up and spiraling it in the air over her shoulder, but there were no signs of life in him. What she felt inside went beyond mere panic. Devastation and regret deeper than anything she’d ever known gripped her so tight she could barely breathe. Finn, who had been so kind to her in a world that turned its back on her, had stuck his neck out, been exiled from his land and his people because of her.
He’d protected her, and now who was going to protect her? Even more pressing was the panicked thought that kept circulating through her mind: how am I going to get through this without him beside me?
The warm tears pooling in her eyes slipped down her cheeks, cooling the moment they dripped free and leaving cold tracks on her skin. “Come on,” she battered at the thick muscle of his chest. She bit into her lip in frustration, tasting the slippery copper of blood on her tongue but not even feeling the sting of pain. “Please, please don’t do this to me. There’s still so much we need to do together.”
When the horn bleated again, she drew back in resolve. If he wasn’t going to snap to it and protect her, she’d just have to do her best to protect him. She ran back to where her shield lay wedged in the snow beside the silver wolf and wrenched it free. Drawing her short sword, she raced to stand in front of Finn, holding up her shield and gripping that sword so tight she could feel every ridge and knick in its old leather grip.
At first skim of the horde moving toward them she guessed there were about twenty of them, soldiers judging from the night-black armor they wore. Armed to the teeth, there was no way one girl could stand against so many, but no one would ever say she didn’t die fighting. Then it occurred to her that no one would probably say anything at all about her death. It would go unwritten, and she would be forgotten.
That thought scared her more than the realization that she was going to die. No one wanted to be forgotten; being forgotten would be like saying she’d never lived at all.
The steady sound of boots was all she could hear, thumping the cold, hard ground like a tempo playing opposite her heartbeat. She scanned the bodies as they grew near enough to distinguish one from the other and realized there were fifteen. Men and women both, armed to the teeth and with two distinct figures marching in the front. The taller of the two wore long, hooded black robes with iridescent silver runes and patterns threaded across the sleeve hems and collar—a magic user, she realized, her fear increasing tenfold. She’d been raised believing magic was a thing to be avoided and feared, and even though there’d always been a part of her that hadn’t believed it entirely, in that moment that magic terrified her.
The other man seemed like a giant, almost as broad across the shoulders as Finn, and nearly as tall. Across the breast of his black armor, a silver-blue crest glowed as if it had been charged by the light of the moons.
The party spread out, forming a half-circle around her before stopping, its two emissaries continuing forward.
About a thousand brave taunts resonated in her mind, but words wouldn’t have passed through her stiff and aching throat if she tried to speak them. She took a step backward, only stopping when she felt the stiff, warm body at her back.
Something awakened inside her, a newfound sense of bravery and independence as the scared little girl within realized she was standing smack-dab in the middle of the greatest adventure of her life. She could let fear overrun her, or she could embrace the adventure, just as she’d always wanted to do, and in that moment she was tired of being afraid.
She swallowed hard against the dry ache of her throat and called out, “Don’t come another step closer or I will put my blade in your belly.”
It was a hollow threat, one she’d never be able to carry out if they challenged her, but the two men stopped in their tracks and just stared at her. Long red hair streamed from beneath the helm of the man, dancing like the flags that whipped and spiraled in the wind, and the wizard surveyed her from the shadowed hood of his long robes.
“Are you Lorelei of Leithe, daughter of Rognar and Ygritte?”
Trembling, she started to shake her head, refusing to answer, but the words that came out were beyond her control. “Ho-how do you know my name?”
The man reached up and lifted the helm away from his head, unleashing the thick mass of dark auburn hair. It tumbled free around his metal-clad shoulders and whipped wildly across his face, tangling with the long mustaches that sat above his upper lip, which curled into a terrifying grin.
“Because Rognar the Conqueror was my father as well,” he boasted, “and I have come to offer you aid, little sister.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Yovenna the Voice has spoken of your coming since I was a child,” he called across the vast space between him, his deep voice battling with the rising wind for dominance. “Light of Madra, she calls you, the savior from the north who will descend into the frozen lands and free the wolves from that which binds them. She saw your arrival in a trance and our party was dispatched three days ago to come and meet you on the road, to show you the way through the mountains and bring you safely to our city.”
He took a tentative step toward her, lifting the helmet in his hands in front of him to show her he meant no harm. Even with the gesture of good will, Lorelei was still wary of stepping away from Finn, who couldn’t have protected her if she wanted him to. She told herself she was protecting him and felt momentarily smug as she hoped to one day be able to hold that fact teasingly over him. She really hoped for that day, though she wasn’t sure if it was because she wanted something to hold over him, or because she couldn’t stomach the thought of a future without Finn in it. Just the mere thought of it made her feel weak in the knees, and she took another step backward until she could feel the firm comfort of his
body behind hers.
“There are no cities in Rimian.” She threw back her head with a know-it-all flare, the gesture sparking appreciation in his gleaming amber eyes as he closed the gap with another forward step. She’d wanted to go back to that whole thing about him being her brother, but much like her trepidation over Finn’s well-being, thoughts of having a brother terrified her. If she didn’t address them, maybe they would go away. And maybe one day pigs would sprout wings and take to the sky.
“You sound convinced of that fact.” He grinned, gleaming white teeth flashing between the bristling red hairs of his beard and braided mustaches. “Sadly, you are wrong. It is on no map, and there are few who know the way to our gates, but there is one city in Rimian. Dunvarak, it is called, and the people who live there have awaited your arrival for so very long.”
“How can there be a city in the south no one’s ever heard of?” Was it another one of Master Davan’s discrepancies in her education? Something the rest of the world knew, of which she herself had no clue?
“It’s not a very old city,” the magic-user beside him lifted his head to join the conversation, and though she felt drawn to him, Lorelei avoided acknowledging him. From the corner of her eye, however, she saw he had a long oval face with high cheekbones and a narrow chin. She nearly did turn her attention directly on him because there was something familiar about his features, they were delicate, like the Alvarii, and the eyes behind his shadowed hood seemed overly large for his face.
“A new city?”
Fortunately the man distracted her from extending her gaze, adding, “And we’ve taken great care in making sure word of its existence didn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
“Whose hands would those be?”
“Now that’s a long list I don’t have time to go over with you right now,” the red-haired man who called himself her brother chuckled. “Anyway, we’ve come. We’re here, and we will lead you to safety if you’ll come with us.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Of course you have a choice,” he laughed again, the boisterous ring of it echoing through the windy valley, competing with the keen of its squalls. “You always have a choice, but I would recommend you choose wisely and come with us.”
She studied him for a long time, mulling over his recommendation before finally shaking her head. “Who are you?”
“I am Logren Bone-Breaker,” he said, as if she should have known, “firstborn son of Rognar the Conqueror and Galisa the Fair. Captain of the Dunvarak Guard.” The pride in his deep voice struck a chord in her, and when he added, “And Brother to the Light of Madra,” to his list of titles, Lorelei’s stomach clenched.
Brother. That word swirled around her jumbled thoughts, entangling with the title Light of Madra and overwhelming her in ways she couldn’t express through words. Before she’d fallen dead, Rhiorna told the people of Drekne to follow her south and she would lead them all to salvation. Was this what she meant? And in the whirlwind of things Rhiorna told her, why had she never mentioned that somewhere in the world, Lorelei had a brother? A half-brother, but still a brother. Surely, Rhiorna, who was supposed to be a great seer, knew he was out there.
A slow grin twitched at the corners of Logren’s full mouth and he chuckled. “I can see you’re at a loss for words.”
“So you… you are Rognar’s son?”
“And you are his daughter.”
“I don’t… Rhiorna said… I don’t know who I am.”
The laughter died in his throat, the smile fading from his lips as he gave a curt nod and swallowed hard. “I don’t imagine you do, girl, but if you come with me, I promise we will take you to one who can shed light upon your uncertainty and make everything clear.”
There was a familiarity about him, the strong features of his face so much like her own she couldn’t deny the man’s claim to have come from the same seed that sparked her life. Most stunning and familiar were his eyes, a clear, golden amber shade she’d seen staring back at her enough times in her life that they may as well have been her own.
“You may be my brother, and maybe you are not. Why should I trust you, and why would I come with you anywhere? You hurt my friends.”
“You are smart not to lend your trust so easily, Lorelei, but I can assure you your friends are unharmed.” It was getting more uncomfortable for her, in that world where strangers knew her name before they met her, and hearing him speak it made her feel even more uncertain and small. “From where we stood back there, they didn’t exactly look friendly, so Bren froze the wolves to protect you and allow us to reach you without confrontation. The spell will be lifted once they are all chained in silver, and we will lead them to our city for interrogation.”
“Chained…” she shook her head. “No, I won’t allow it. The black wolves, there are two of them. Do not chain them or I will…” Lifting her trembling arm before the thought even finished processing in her mind, she said, “Or I’ll put this blade in your belly.”
Logren tilted his head in curious appreciation, and from the bemused glimmer in his eye she could tell he was gaging whether or not she would actually do it. He poked his tongue into his cheek, momentarily swelling it before withdrawing and clicking it across the backs of his teeth.
“Who are these two black wolves to you?” He gestured over her shoulder at Finn, his gaze turning toward Vilnjar lying several feet away in the snow on his back.
“I already told you, they are my friends.”
“That may be so, but they are not mine,” he said. “I cannot risk the lives of my men or my sister for two strange wolves I don’t know. I’m sorry, Lorelei, but you have enemies out there, and the U’lfer have not been our friends since they murdered my father and his men. I have sworn to protect you until you are safely delivered to Dunvarak, and I think you will be safer if all the wolves are chained in silver.”
“They have sworn to protect me too. And who says I’m even going with you to this Dunvarak of yours? You said I had a choice.”
It was as if he ignored her completely, turning over his shoulder to gesture wordlessly with his head for the soldiers who’d hung back to move in and chain the beasts. They fell into step, drawing short, silver-chained shackles from the packs they pulled from their backs as they walked.
“I said don’t chain the black wolves.” She took a step away from Finn, edging up toward the monstrous man with the red-braided mustaches and long beard and eyes so much like her own. “Please, they are my friends, and if you chain them I won’t go with you to your city. My friends and I will take our chances on our own.”
“I’ll tell you what,” he started, narrowing his sharp gaze down the length of his nose at her. “You come with me to Dunvarak, and I will take their chains off once I’ve determined they can be trusted. It’s a three day’s march once we’ve crossed the mountain. We’ll take refuge from the storm in the pass tonight, where the rest of my men are waiting. I will talk to your friends, if they are willing to meet with me as men, and see if they truly have your best interest at heart. If I feel they are your friends, then I will take their chains off and let them travel with us unfettered.”
“You will meet with them as men?” She cocked her head back, as if the angle from which she now looked at him gave her the power to determine truth from lies. It didn’t. “Give them the dignity of shifting back before chaining them. Their clothes are on the road back there. Send someone to retrieve them and allow them to shift. I will talk to them and let them know your terms, but if they don’t agree…”
Logren reached up with black-gloved hand and twisted the braid beside his lips in thought. “For your sake, little sister, I hope they agree. I’d hate to start things off with you on the wrong foot, but know that I will do whatever it takes to protect you.” He glared over her shoulder at the frozen wolf behind her, reaffirming his threat with, “Whatever it takes.”
“Fair enough,” she nodded.
“But the others must be chained before the sp
ell is lifted because we can’t risk their escape. All of these wolves will have to be questioned in Dunvarak. Even your friends.”
“Just let me talk to them when the spell is lifted, explain to them what’s going on here because Finn…” She glanced back over her shoulder at him, knowing in her heart that the mad, reckless beast behind her was going to lapse into a frenzy of terror the moment that spell was lifted and make things far worse for them than they already were. “Just give me a minute to talk to him.”
“He can hear you now,” he told her. “They are aware of everything going on around them, and he’s heard everything we’ve had to say. So perhaps it would be best to have a talk with them before the spell is broken because I cannot guarantee their safety if they try to fight us.”
“Give us a minute then.”
Logren conceded with a silent nod and backed away, drawing his mage with him. Once they were far enough away that she had a bit of privacy, the two put their heads together and muttered quietly to one another. She turned back in to face Finn, leaning closer, edging up onto the tips of her toes so she could whisper in his ear.
“Finn, listen to me. He said you heard everything we said to each other, so you know how important it is that you do what needs to be done. That man…” She brought her hand up to rest on his shoulder, trying desperately to connect with him, to feel something inside her that confirmed he could actually hear her. “He says he’s my brother, that he’s come to take us to some city in the tundra where there are answers, and I don’t know what is going on here, or who these people are, but I think we need answers right now more than anything else.”
Fingers curling into the softness of his fur, it was an odd thing to notice—that his fur was so soft, the skin beneath it instantly warming her cold fingers. For a moment she wondered how it might feel to curl up in those thick arms and rest her weary head against his strong chest, how warm that fur would keep her if the wolf held her close.
Edgelanders (Serpent of Time) Page 27