He sounded very troubled as he tried to answer. “I… don’t know. But…” he shot a nervous glance my way. “I felt the same connection. I remembered hunting with you… here.”
I shivered. “Right. Okay. Well, that obviously didn’t happen, so we should think on that. But it’s not our biggest problem. What am I supposed to do with them?” I pointed. “Why are they back to psychopath-mode? Why am I not back to psychopath-mode? Fucking Wylde? What the hell kind of a name is that? And how do some people know it,” I leaned closer, “if none of it ever really happened? He doesn’t really exist!”
Talon scuffed a rock with his velvet boots. Even this action didn’t leave a trail. The rock he scuffed fell into another smaller hole, looking as if it had been there for a thousand years. I shook my head in disbelief, staring at his boots. Couldn’t even kick a rock in anger with those things.
“I remember you getting those. I think…” I whispered softly, shaking my head in disbelief.
Talon flinched, staring at me before recomposing himself. “That’s… impossible.”
I shrugged. “My question stands. How am I supposed to control them without becoming like them, and without them getting wise to the fact that I’m a… Manling? Not their precious Wylde.”
Talon shrugged. “I will help how I can. I can mention, offhandedly, that in order to abduct the child, Oberon asked you to act like a Manling, to get in touch with the Manling Tales from your youth, so that the child will listen to you.”
I nodded slowly. “That’s… actually a really good idea. Might cover up any slips.”
Talon grimaced. “But that’s not the full answer. I think… you need to learn to become a little more like them at the same time. I think this is the real test. You need to teach them to be a little more human while you need to learn to become a little more… wild. A little more Fae.”
I sighed. “But why?”
Talon shrugged. “Just a guess. I can help guide, but I don’t have the answers. And if I did…”
I frowned. “That’s what Oberon told you at the end. What you were nodding about.” Talon might as well have clenched his butt cheeks together, as fast as his lips tightened. “Who did they take?”
“I don’t know. But I can tell you he wasn’t lying. Someone was taken and they are here. I think they’re here alone, not as a captive. Well, not in a jail, but a captive of the Fae World nonetheless…” he added.
I blinked. “They can’t leave. Someone scooped them up, dropped them off, and then disappeared. All to motivate me to do this… thing. Save a kid. Steal some fucking shoes.”
Talon shrugged, staring out at the fields before us. I could see hills in the near distance. We were in a valley of sorts. “Perhaps,” Talon said.
“Does that mean we need to be on the lookout for a wanderer? Like that guy with the red hair? Because I didn’t recognize him. Maybe they do this regularly. Drop off a mortal in their world to feed the Wildfae.”
Talon nodded absently. “Perhaps. I’ve been away for… some time. I’m not up to date on their sporting events.”
I shivered at that. Kidnapping was a sporting event? “What are you, Talon?”
His fur bristled up as if I had rubbed it the wrong way. “A cat. Leave it at that, or I walk.”
I almost held up a hand to calm him down, but caught Ashley studying us from a distance. Such a motion would not be used by Wylde.
“Fine. I’ll drop it. But after, we’ll talk. Or no more cream at Chateau Falco. No more birdies to play with, either,” I added, referring to Hugin and Munin.
Sir Muffle Paws looked genuinely alarmed for a moment before he saw my smirk. “Fucking wizards,” he yowled softly.
“Maybe this person, this friend, really is a captive in a prison. Like the Queens’ prison. Where the kid is.” I frowned. “Wait. The Queens have different palaces, right? Which one has the kid? And how far apart are their castles? I thought this was going to take a few days. That’s what Mallory said.”
Talon nodded. “The Queens are hosting a dinner. To celebrate the boy’s execution.”
I groaned. “That’s convenient. And not. It means everyone will be watching him. He’s the star of the show…”
Talon grunted affirmation. “But they’re all in the same place, at least,” he said, carefully.
I sighed, taking a few steps forward, pretending to scan the horizon. “Well, it’s still night. We have time. It’s only been a few hours.”
“True.”
“How far away are we?”
He stared at the land before us, thinking. “Half a day’s hard jog.”
I thought about that. “Well, the land is crawling with monsters, so let’s call it a day.” A day of hunting wild monsters with my own Band of murdering monsters. All while trying to become monster myself. I was scared of that.
How I had felt as Wylde had been so natural, so right. I saw. I wanted. I took. No middle steps. Why on earth would I need to learn how to tap into that? And what had Oberon been talking about with all his cryptic words? Fire, love, history, coins, hope, ancestors. Was he trying to confuse me? Or was it relevant? And if so, was it relevant for here, in the Fae World, or back home, with the Greek war?
The wooden disk at my throat felt suddenly tight, constricting.
“Go back to them,” I said. “Tell them we will move soon. I’ll be there in a minute, and will think while we march. The constant vigilance will give the others something else to focus on.”
“Yes, Wylde,” Talon purred, then slipped away without a sound, leaving me alone in a glade of what looked like glass trees for chrissake. What the hell kind of world was this? Wooden mountains, glowing trees, three moons, oceans of stone?
I remembered that all too brief sensation of magic with Oberon. The wildness of it. The utter irrationality of it. It defied everything I knew about magic, and I had about as good a chance as breathing water as I did understanding it.
Let alone pretending to have it mastered.
But I really didn’t have much of a choice.
A poor kid and an incompetent friend needed my help.
Chapter 21
I had thought long and hard on my situation, and had come to the conclusion that it sucked.
Hard.
But I persevered. I was a wizard. A Temple. Master Temple. I would get through this, somehow. Being able to remain silent for longer periods actually helped me. With my band of psychopaths, talking wasn’t really a priority, and was considered unnecessary most times.
The best way to think about it was that silence was common to them. Like animals. A pack didn’t constantly yap at each other. They made occasional sounds, but the rest of their communication was silent, with subtle motions.
As long as I kept my face broody, everyone thought I was normal. I could talk, but I couldn’t be chatty. Which gave me time to think, unmolested, which was a new experience for me.
But I still felt like I was walking on eggshells. Like I was different from them. A sheep hiding in a pack of wolves.
I spent the first hour of our walk towards the distant palace carefully dipping into that darker side of me, trying to recall the communication gestures Wylde had used. It felt like cautiously reaching into a calm pond, and never knowing if the Loch Ness Monster had chosen that moment to be in the exact spot you were reaching toward, ready to grab you and pull you into the depths to turn you into sushi.
Since I had actually lived as Wylde for a short time, it was fairly easy to remember the ones I had already used or seen earlier tonight.
One finger to the temple meant no harm done.
Two fingers to the temple meant thank you.
Palm flat to the chest meant servitude, or peace. Flexing your nails to break skin while doing it meant undying loyalty.
Brushing three fingers down from lips to chin was a warning.
But other stuff?
I tried making a world in my head for Wylde. A construct of a home. I imagined him as a solitary, bearded
sage living in a cave at the top of a cliff. I filled his cave with spoils – food, drink, women, and fire. And I gave him a club to hit things with. It was actually kind of fun.
With his home complete, I remembered my brief lesson with Ganesh, when I had been attempting to awaken my Beast, to dominate it, and initially felt like this would be easy.
I was wrong.
I approached the fire outside his cave, not locking eyes with the wild man sitting on a log. I noticed his shoulders bunch up, and his fist clench his club aggressively, but I was sure to keep my eyes down and my palms on my chest, a symbol of peace.
He had jumped to his feet, roared at me, and then swung his club dangerously close to my face, missing me by inches. Then he promptly grabbed two women from his cave and disappeared from sight. I sat by the fire, heart racing, and waited.
It was a long time until he came back out, and he exited his cave like a deer stepping out into a new field at dawn. Or like a wolf creeping up on that deer. My arm was metaphysically sore from keeping it placed on my chest the entire time, in case he had decided to watch me from the cave. He took ten minutes to walk to the fire, and then cautiously sat down.
I grunted at him.
Silence stretched for a few moments, and I began to grow wary of that club I had stupidly given him.
But then he grunted back, begrudgingly.
I had managed to keep a smile off my cheeks, and simply sat in silence with him.
I thought, and thought very loudly, trying to let my body naturally move to match my words, in what I hoped would be decipherable to him.
You’re stronger than me.
Wylde grunted self-importantly.
I have need of your knowledge.
He was silent for a very long time, then slapped his knees twice in quick succession. Price.
I stopped myself from nodding back, and decided to act more like I was at a zoo, trying to talk to an animal. I wouldn’t nod my head at a lion. I would try to stare him in the eyes and let him know I agreed, wrapping danger around my shoulders, hiding any sign of weakness.
Life, I thought at him, squeezing the palms placed against my chest, a sign that if I had claws, I would be bleeding, emphasizing that my word was not a threat.
He grunted, but it sounded different, like a question.
We are hunted. Enemies surround us. He jumped to his feet, gripping his club. I thought hard. Not here. In another place… Wylde clenched his jaw, looking frustrated, and he let out a light snarl of confusion. I split my mind in two, and let him see what my real eyes saw, walking through a crystal-clear glass glade of what looked like grass. I let him see each of my Band, and then imagined myself as I was now. Here.
Wylde howled in alarm, looking up at the sky, and then down to me, and then back at my vision, which was apparently to his right. I knew he wasn’t merely viewing our surroundings, because something was off with his eyes. They were focused on a big picture a foot ahead of him, where technically only empty air was visible. Like he was staring through a window.
We are the same. We share a body. A mind. A heart… I thought with as deep a meaning as I could muster. I felt sharp pings in my temples at the strain of maintaining two worlds – one fake, and one real, as I followed my merry band of killers through the Land of the Fae.
All while creating, maintaining, and trying to occupy an entirely imagined world with a part of myself that had been deeply buried for eons. Since the dawn of time. My primitive self.
Wylde slowly turned to look at me, and gave me an awkward nod.
I blinked, slowly nodding back.
My thoughts were bleeding back on him, and he was trying to speak to me in my language.
He hooted triumphantly, and curled his lips back in a horrifying snarl. It took me a moment to realize he was trying to smile at me. I very dramatically, and very slowly, let a smile creep onto my face.
He watched, studying me, and then duplicated it in a less nightmarish fashion. I nodded back slowly, encouraging him. Yes. Just like this. You can feel me, now?
He grunted, and then ran back to his cave, shrieking like a banshee.
I groaned, letting my imagination close like the curtains of a play. My mouth was dry, and my vision swam. Talon glared at me, then quickly commanded everyone to hurry up and move.
Because they were all frowning at me, looking confused. Concerned.
I tried to act like Wylde, and growled warningly at them. Very literally growled.
They flinched, and their shoulders began to relax as they obeyed Talon’s command and increased their pace. I did the same, despite my exhausted mind and body.
It had worked! To some extent. I had established communication with Wylde. We jogged for ten minutes, and the physical exertion helped me, surprisingly. I reached into my pack, and chewed on some jerky. I wondered if I would have the time to learn what I needed before we reached the palace.
Because it was on the horizon, now.
Talon called for a halt, and I grunted affirmatively. Then I strode up to Ashley, shoved her with a shoulder, and sat on the rock she had been about to occupy. The wolf growled subtly at me as she strode away to another rock, but I could tell she felt affection for me. A sense of pride in submitting to one as great as Wylde. That she was important enough for me to want to take her seat.
Any other time I would have simply shaken my head in disbelief. The real Ashley would have eaten my face for acting like that. Which was odd to consider. Me being feral to her here made her more docile. Me being feral in the domesticated world would have made her more violent. Talk about confusing.
But it was beginning to feel normal, which had me concerned. I needed to get close to that person I had temporarily been. Wylde.
Without becoming him, in fact.
Or else none of us would even want to leave. We would simply want to hunt.
Talon strode up to the clearing, and clicked his tongue a few times, signifying we would take a rest for an hour and then double-time. The others instantly rolled onto their backs, and went to sleep. I didn’t.
I watched the night around us, silently marveling at the strange woods around us. Metal trees were just ahead, glinting with what looked like golden fruit. No more neon glow surrounded us, but the shine from that metal was intriguing. Like a forest of treasure. The ground was covered with golden brush, like any other forest would have twigs and leaves of wood.
Confident that everyone was asleep, I very carefully reached out to my magic.
The world fought against me, urging me to touch her magic, not my basic, elementary world’s magic. I blinked, listening to it for a few moments. Not obeying, but listening. Because it really was like a conversation… but a conversation that I couldn’t translate back into words.
It was astounding. The world around me called out, whispering, seducing, sensing me like a sentient being.
A furred paw slapped me across the jaw, only slightly diminished by my thick beard. Talon was glaring down at me. His eyes flickered to the sleeping forms, then back to me, making sure they were all asleep. “Not yet. You’re not ready, yet. It would have taken you,” he whispered.
I nodded, feeling cold sweat down my spine. He was right.
I could practically feel the frustrated claws of ethereal beings snarling with anger at the near miss. I reached back out to my magic, and carefully wove a web over Ashley. Those voices fought me, but I managed to overpower them. Barely. And much like I had done to speak to Wylde, I made a world with my mind. But this world was based on real memories.
With Gunnar, his pack, their pet-supply company, Thanksgiving Dinner at Chateau Falco, friends, loved ones, and drinks at a bar. I made that world real, and then slowly connected it to Ashley – or Wulfra – and whispered a single word in my mind.
Same…
She stirred, and I saw Talon’s arms tense, ready for her to wake and attack. But she continued to sleep. I let out a shaky sigh, and turned to Tory. Talon began a soft, soothing purr, that soun
d that instantly made humans sleepy. Tory and Ashley settled even deeper to sleep. I don’t know exactly how I knew this, but I could sense it.
Weakness… take her… a voice whispered in my mind.
My hand was reaching closer to Tory, as if to do just that. Talon still purred beside me, but had a restraining paw on my wrist. It was shaking as it fought me. Carl was sitting up, awake, watching us with a grin. That look made me stop in an instant. If Carl thought it was entertaining or a good idea, I should probably not be doing it. I shoved off Talon’s paw with clenched teeth that Carl was sure to see, and Talon visibly wilted, as if expecting a blow. Carl snorted, frowned at the two of us, but then went back to sleep, looking bored.
I shivered noticeably. What the fuck? Carl had wanted me to take advantage of Tory in her weakness. He didn’t consider it taking advantage. Just a good round of fun. And deep in my mind, I thought I knew that Tory would also find it fun. Sex was just something that needed to be quenched. It didn’t mean anything. Just a need to be sated.
What the hell, Wylde? I said to myself, imagining the bastard in my mind.
For a slip of a second, I saw his face nod back. Then he ran away into the darkness, snarling at one of his cavewomen as if to take out his lust on them since I had forsaken him.
I focused back on Tory, making sure to keep my guard low, but not entirely down – so that I could hear him if he wanted to make contact, but shut him out if he became too intense and tried to force my hand again.
I created a world, and in that world, I placed two red dragons. Teenagers. And a memory I had of Tory with their mother, Misha, on a couch in Chateau Falco, right before she died in battle. I had found the two cuddled up, and Misha had urged me with her eyes not to wake Tory as she snuggled against her lover. I imagined that scene in as much detail as possible, leaving out the heartache of loss, and then built more memories.
Wild Side: A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 7 (The Temple Chronicles) Page 13