Ascendant (The Shift Chronicles Book 4)

by Eva Truesdale

  When the fireworks finally stopped, though, and I glanced back at Kael, my giggling abruptly stopped.

  His eyes were closed and his hand was over his heart, and my own heart suddenly felt like it was plummeting and burying itself in the mud underneath me.

  He didn’t open his eyes, no matter how long I stared. But he must have been able to sense my gaze the same way I could sense his, because he eventually said, “I’ll be fine in a minute.”

  That minute passed. And then another.

  Another, another, another.

  At least ten minutes went by, during which he remained perfectly silent, the grip over his chest turning to a desperate clutching a few times while his face contorted in pain. He was awake enough that he was mentally fighting it, I could tell, and keeping himself mostly still aside from that occasional desperate grasping.

  I stared at the moon while he recovered. Tried not to think about it becoming more full. More red.

  “Sorry,” he finally managed to say. His eyes were still closed, but his hand had fallen back to the ground, where his fingers now clutched at the grass and mud instead of at his heart.

  I shook my head. “For what?”

  “I don’t know. For reminding you of the curse, when you were in the middle of laughing, I guess?”

  “I never forgot about the curse,” I said quietly. “I wanted to ask you about it, anyway. I was already wondering how it felt now, after what we went through at your mom’s— I was just too afraid to ask earlier.”

  He was silent for another minute. I expected him to eventually tell me that I had enough to worry about, that he’d keep the details about this to himself and not worry me with them, too. It wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but it was a typical Kael answer.

  It wasn’t the one he gave me this time, though.

  “It feels like it’s getting heavier,” he said, his eyes trained on that village in the distance once again. “Like it’s sinking deeper, maybe.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded to show him I was thankful, in a way, that he wasn’t trying to shut me out of his suffering. “Vanessa said something similar to me, earlier. She’s had a lot of attacks these past two days. More than anyone, and I don’t know why.”

  “Me either. Mostly I’m trying not to think about it, to be honest.”

  “I wish I could stop.”

  The music in that town started up again. Quieter now, but still reaching us. I thought of the warmth I’d felt while watching Vanessa and Will, and suddenly I was on my feet, holding out my hand to Kael.

  “I still don’t believe you,” I said. “I want to see these supposed dance moves.”

  He stared at my hand for a moment, a trace of his smile from earlier sneaking back onto his face. Then he took hold of me and let me pull him up. We stood facing each other for a moment, his fingers tightening between mine. My heart raced as his other hand slipped into position along my back.

  “So…” he began, “You suggested you weren’t a particularly good dancer.”

  “And you suggested you were an excellent teacher.”

  “And you think you can manage to let someone else lead?” he asked with a wry grin, which I returned, blushing.

  “I’ll do my best.”

  The hand against my back pressed in with a gentle touch, and suddenly it was guiding me into motion, step by step, breath by breath.

  And I never would have guessed it in a million years, but he did know how to dance. He knew how to dance well enough that he made me look like I knew how to dance, too. Or made me feel like I knew, anyway. I guess I might have looked ridiculous, really.

  But I felt like I was flying.

  Like I was gliding. Twirling smoothly, weightlessly through the heavy air with him. At first, we moved with the rhythm of the distant music. It kept growing faster, though, and I didn’t want to rush away from this—and I don’t think he did, either, because he led me out of step with that distant song and into a slow, timeless sort of swaying instead. I draped my hands over his shoulders and pressed the side of my face against his chest. Closed my eyes. Breathed in the scent of him as it mixed with the cool rain that was starting to drift down over us.

  I thought of the ocean mist that had drifted over us yesterday. Of that house that held ghosts of his mother and a life he didn’t remember, impressions of a past that was every bit as frightening as Vanessa and Will’s—except his was much more uncertain, even after all our searching, since all we’d really found was that empty box.

  “I wish we’d found more at your mom’s house,” I thought aloud. “I know you were hoping for more.”

  He surprised me for the second time that night, though, by saying, “I’m not worried about it.” His voice was low, the tone of it vibrating through my skin.

  “You’re not? But your past, all the questions, don’t you want—”

  “Alex.” Our swaying slowed to a stop, and his hands rested on my hips as he leaned back and gently shook his head at me. “I’m not thinking of the past right now.”

  “Not even a little?”

  He answered by kissing me in a slow, smooth motion that could have been part of our dance, and then he pulled his lips away just far enough to whisper, “Not even a little.”

  And I wasn’t thinking of it either, suddenly.

  I wrapped my hands around his neck, lifted myself onto tiptoes, and kissed him back. We melted together, hearts pounding, skin slick from the rain. His hands moved over my body until one of them eventually tightened around mine again. I smiled, still completely bemused and in love with the fact that he knew how to dance, and I lifted his hand with mine and gave a little twirl just because I could. Spun back to him and dipped low, just because I knew he would catch me, and because I loved the feel of his strong arms doing it.

  And there were no guns. No teeth. No claws. No fire.

  But it still felt like part of our fight.

  It still felt like defiance.

  Because the rain was falling, and there were curses and wolves waiting in the dark and pressing against the barriers we’d built, but still we kept moving.

  Sixteen

  converging

  Two days later, we headed northwest and into an area of the country that Eamon called The Burren.

  There had been reports— from human locals and from our own lycan allies— that something strange was at work in the craggy, almost lunar-like landscape here. Everything from odd energies and winds, to sightings of ghosts and other, unidentified creatures. It reminded me of the sort of rumors that used to surround the woods where the first feral I’d met—Faolan—had once been hiding. It was lucky for us that magic tended to leave a trail.

  But as we picked our way over the rocks and occasional seams of shockingly green grass, I didn’t sense any particularly strong hint of magic. And neither did Joseph or Eamon.

  What we were all aware of, though, is that the air was chokingly thick with the scent of blood.

  “There’s been a battle here,” Kael said, crouching down and picking off a rock from a large mound of them. He gave it a quick sniff, frowned, and then tossed it aside and reached for another.

  “A recent one,” Will agreed. He knelt down beside Kael and started pulling off rocks as well. They moved about a dozen stones, and then Vanessa’s eyes widened in sudden horror as her hand flew to cover her mouth. Joseph and Eamon were subtler, but made similar motions, and I narrowed my sight on the mound, eye squinting in the murky sunlight.

  “Is that…?”

  “Yes,” Will said, pausing, and then stepping away from what he and Kael had managed to uncover.

  A bloody and torn wolf ear.

  “This is a mass grave,” Kael said, backing away from it as well. He wiped the dirt and gravel from his hands off on the bottom of his jacket. “Hard to say how massive. It looks like it was hastily done, though, so I can’t imagine any pit that’s beneath it goes too deep.”

  “Were these wolves on our side or the feral’s
, I wonder?” Eamon asked.

  “What does it matter?” Vanessa said, her voice cracking and her arms wrapping tightly around her stomach. “It’s just more people dead. A mass grave of people…”

  Kael was frowning at her, and I didn’t even have to guess what he was thinking— because I knew. It did matter who they were, from a tactical standpoint. I wasn’t going to say that to Vanessa, though. Deep down, I’m sure she already knew, anyway. But before Kael could remind her of it, Will stopped him with a pointed look. Then he turned his attention to me and said, “We’ll study things a bit closer; why don’t the rest of you go find a spot to take a break?”

  I nodded, grabbing Vanessa by the arm, already mentally rehearsing lines and ideas to distract her from this latest horror that we were walking away from. We only made it a few steps, though, before something caught my attention.

  It was a feeling, a sensation of magical energy that couldn’t have been any clearer.

  I still looked at Joseph, though, because I didn’t want to believe what I was feeling. I wouldn’t believe it, until I was sure someone else felt it, too.

  He was staring at the grave, and then he cautiously stepped toward it and circled around and around. Pulled a few more stones free. Shook his head. Everyone else watched him curiously, until Kael finally asked, “What is it?”

  Joseph didn’t answer him, though. He looked up and stared straight at me instead. “You sense it too, don’t you?”

  I sprinted to his side, fell over the rocks and started to rip them away from the pile.

  I was in such a mad state that I couldn’t even be overwhelmed by the bodies I was uncovering, by the stench of blood and guts and of damp muddy fur and the early stages rot setting in. I was aware of all of it only because it was in my way, because I had to keep digging through it, had to find—

  “What are you doing?”

  There was a hand on my arm, pulling me back from that pile of dead things. And then another hand grabbed my other arm, and I couldn’t fight both; I angrily tore my gaze away from my mission and found Kael and Will on either side of me, both still trying to pull me further back.

  “Alex, what are you doing?” Will asked again.

  “The necklace…” I panted. I was trying really hard not to throw up now that I’d been forced to stop. “The Solas. It’s here. It’s close, at least. The necklace that I gave Lora… I sense it. And I smell her, too.”

  It was very faint—almost a memory—but I was sure of it.

  She had been here.

  Horror registered in Will’s eyes for the briefest second before their usual stoic light returned, and he quietly asked, “Where is it all coming from, exactly?”

  “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know. I can’t focus—”

  “Maybe we should go find that place to rest, until you can focus,” came Vanessa’s quiet voice.

  “We’ll keep looking for the source of the energy,” Joseph assured me. “I can sense it almost as well as you.”

  Vanessa did her best to drag me away, but we didn’t make it far before I collapsed, my hands grabbing for stability among the rocky ground. I felt numb. Lost in this landscape that felt even more alien than before. I felt…

  Wrong.

  The word beat and battered its way through my brain.

  Had I chosen wrong? I’d trusted other people to make sure my sister was safe. I did what I had to. And if she was buried in that mass grave because of it, I would—

  “Wolves,” Vanessa whispered suddenly.

  I lifted my head and followed her gaze until I saw them, too; a small pack poised and watching us from maybe a half a mile away. Most of them nearly blended out of sight against the rocks.

  Vanessa paced nervously, uncertainly, without taking her eyes off them. The guys stopped digging and turned to face our onlookers. Will and Kael hesitated a moment, and then shifted, though they kept their heads lifted and tails neutral, which I was thankful for; this field had already seen enough battle and blood, after all. Still, I shifted too— partly in case we did have to fight, but mostly so I could let my simpler wolf mind drown out my overwhelming human emotions. As a wolf, it was less about thinking and more about what I could hear and see and smell.

  And what I could smell was Lora, her warm scent more clear than ever, even as the stench of death grew more pungent along with it.

  I could pick her out, and I could almost see the trail she’d made near the gravesite—though it was impossible to tell if she’d made it while being carried to that grave or while running away from it.

  I wanted to follow it and find out, even though I was afraid of what I might discover.

  The sound of claws scratching against stone, and then of heavy paws cracking the thinner bits of shale, pulled my attention back to the pack of watching wolves. The ones in front were moving cautiously toward us.

  (We don’t want to fight you,) I tried thinking. I’m not sure how clear my desperate and messy thoughts were to them, but they understood enough, at least, that they slowed and exchanged glances and whines. I could see blood darkening the fur on some of their legs and chests. It looked about as fresh as the blood staining the rocks.

  Were they the ones responsible for that mass grave?

  My body tensed at the thought, and I stalked a few steps closer to the pack, trying to decide how best to get information from them.

  “They have it,” Joseph mumbled suddenly.

  (‘It?’ You mean the Solas?)

  He nodded, following my lead in stepping toward them. Several of them shuffled backward, as if thinking of running, even though he was only in his human form; I wondered if they recognized Joseph. What they knew about the things he’d done. About the things the feral had made him do.

  (You have something that belongs to me,) I thought toward the group.

  The wolf in front—a large female with silvery-black fur and a white tipped nose—twitched her ears and fixed me with a stiff glare. (Perhaps,) she replied. (Though you’ll have to forgive us for being overtly cautious. You seem to be the Alexandra Layton we were searching for, but very few things in our world are what they seem—particularly here lately. Wouldn’t you agree?)

  (You were searching for me?)

  (Wait a second…) Will loped to my side, his eyes surveying the group before us, searching. (You’re members of the Kerry Ring Pack, aren’t you?)

  (Is this the group that was sent after Lora?) I asked.

  The white-nosed wolf answered me with nothing except stiff, affirmative silence.

  And suddenly I understood why Will had been looking them over; because there were supposed to have been over a dozen sent—including those two friends of his. But I counted only seven, and Will wasn’t greeting any of them like they were old friends. His gaze had drifted back to the grave.

  My stomach clenched, again, at the thought of who it held.

  (Step closer,) commanded the Kerry wolf. (One at a time. I want to see your eyes.)

  I went first. Five feet away from her I stopped, head raised just slightly, tail held steady, and I stared into her black jewel eyes. After at least a full minute, she finally seemed satisfied by the clarity in my one eye. She blinked, looked away from me and to the buried bodies, and said, (There are eight of them in there. Three of them had white eyes this morning. They attacked the rest of us. We had no choice but to fight back against our own brothers and sisters.)

  As she finished her solemn thoughts, the rest of her pack conducted similar stare-downs of the rest of my companions while I tried to work up the courage to finally say: (My sister. You have the Solas—we can sense it. But what about Lora? I know she was here, and in that battle, I just need to…)

  She exchanged a glance with the wolf closest to her.

  (Tell me. Please.)

  I sensed movement toward the edge of her pack. I twisted, frantically, toward it.

  And there she was, like something from a daydream, walking up to the edge of a plateau that rose steeply
from the northern edge of this rocky barrenness. It took her form a moment to register in my brain; she was her werewolf self, her giant body a dark brown blot against the steel-colored sky, and flanked by more monstrous wolves on either side of her.

  None of those other wolves mattered at the moment.

  A sprint and then a hurtling, mighty leap brought me crashing across the top of the plateau where Lora stood; it wasn’t my most graceful leap ever. I collided with one of those other wolves, earning me a few disgruntled growls as I straightened up and shook the dust and rock from my fur before turning to face Lora on my still-frantically-scrambling legs.

  (I see the family grace crown still belongs entirely to me,) she said.

  And I was so glad to hear her voice in my head that I didn’t care that the first thing she did was take a dig at me. All I cared about was that she was here.

  For about ten seconds, that’s all I cared about.

  And then I was pissed about it.

  I pressed my head against her shoulder and let it rest there—in a sort of canine counterpart of a hug—but the warm fuzziness that hug was causing didn’t keep my angry thoughts quiet. (Why are you here? Why would you leave mom?)

  (Because I got your letter.)

  (The one where I told you I was glad you weren’t here in the middle of all this crap? Or did you not read that part?)

  (I read it. Multiple times.)

  (Then why?)

  (Because I wanted to see you, alright?) The thought had a laser sharpness to it that made me think she’d kept it just between us. (Because if this is how it ends…) She glanced at the others around us. At the group on the plateau. At Kael and Will and everyone else making their way over to us. All of them bloody and broken up in different ways. (…I just didn’t want to go without seeing you again. So I demanded these guys bring me with them when they came to meet up with you—and no, I’m not going anywhere.)

  My breath caught in my throat. I was still furious, but all I could think was, (No, you aren’t. You’re staying right next to me, now. And this isn’t the end, either.)