by Carmen Caine
I’d scarcely fluttered onto the windowsill when Marie rushed into the room. “Take care, my lady,” she called after me as I launched myself into the darkening sky.
I ruffled my feathers in acknowledgement and as thanks for her constant caring. She was a witch. I knew she’d understand the silent message.
Stretching my wings, I headed first for the trees standing right outside the castle walls, my hawk eyes sweeping the ground along the way.
I almost missed him. He moved with extraordinary speed, even for a vampire.
I hurtled over the treetops after him, my wings straining. I barely managed to track him through a nearby village and into the fields beyond. He moved as a blur between the upright sheaves covered with snow.
As Emilio approached the forest, he suddenly stopped and looked up to the sky. “Is that you, latchling?” his mocking voice drifted with the wind. “Elizabeth?” he said my name like a warning.
Fear rippled through me.
Oh, he was so much, much more than a vampire—but what?
I escaped to the trees and hid there. Now that he’d seen my hawk form, I had to risk changing into another, but with my mana amulet empty and back at the castle, I could only pray I still retained enough power to shift again. Relaxing into my human state, I selected the feather of the form I assumed most often: a white owl.
The spell almost failed. The changing was a painful one. The white feathers sliced my flesh like needles, but finally, I perched, panting, as an owl high in the trees.
Taking a deep breath, I assessed my situation. I’d lost sight of Emilio. He’d moved faster than the wind, but I could still sense the dark stain of his Chosen One stench. Picking up his trail, I flew low through the cover of the trees, following his tracks until the forest deepened into one of pristine beauty. The thought of so foul a creature in such a hallowed place made me want to vomit, but still I pressed on.
The trees stood tall here, ancient pines of such girth and height that the pine needles beneath them remained dry in spite of the heavy, midwinter snowfall. His trail grew faint here. Several times, I lost it, but then the trees thinned and I found myself able to easily track him once again.
He made for the sea. I could hear the pounding of the waves growing closer with each stroke of my white wings. Finally, I arrived.
Under me arose black, frowning cliffs overlooking a sandy beach. I spied Emilio's dark, shadowy form at once, hovering at the mouth of a cave gorged into the cliff wall. He stood watching, arms folded, as at least half a dozen Knights Templar lugged a large, hollowed iron ring from the mouth of the cave down a slippery path to a cart waiting on the beach below.
As I observed them, one of the men lost his footing.
The large ring tipped.
"Have a care!" Emilio spat from where he stood, making no move to assist.
Grunting with effort, the men righted the ring. It must’ve been over six feet tall, and even from this distance, made a ripple of fear creep down my neck.
Odd.
As the men resumed their descent, I retreated to a nearby tree and taking cover, cast a quick seeking spell, intending only to gather a brief understanding of what the ring and its intent might be.
I was entirely unprepared for the response.
An impression of the mana returned to me, but it was far beyond evil. Pure, unadulterated wickedness washed over me, announcing a creation imbued with the blood of the innocent and as an anchor for nameless terrors. Undoubtedly, a thing worthy of hell, yet made by men with hearts black with sin.
The strength of it overwhelmed me and I recoiled, falling backwards off the branch.
At once, Emilio hissed and dropped into a battle stance, searching the trees perilously close to where I had perched.
That left no doubt. I had to leave and escape while I still could. I wasn’t prepared for a clash of any kind within the vicinity of that ring.
Knowing I must flee, I gathered myself and sprang into the night.
But it wasn’t that easy.
Emilio followed. I could sense it as well as see the blur of his shadow, zipping under the trees below.
Should I return to Castle Llewellyn, he would catch me at a disadvantage, something I couldn’t risk with him in my weakened state. I needed to shift again, but I had no mana.
It was time to seek help.
I altered course at once, turning away from the castle and towards the pristine forest instead.
Emilio tracked me easily enough. I caught flashes of his stench trailing close behind. Determined to shake him off, I forged deeper into the wood where I knew wolves and other creatures inclined to aid me roamed. I just needed to find a way to summon them.
I flew over the treetops and snow-covered meadows, my shadow racing beneath me.
And then I saw it. A stone circle. It stood in a grove of ancient rowan trees, planted centuries ago to ward off evil. Rowans that would slow Emilio down, but not stop him entirely.
“At last,” I whispered in relief, knowing once I reached the circle’s center, I would be safe.
Entering the circle would be tricky. Stone circles rendered all magic moot by defusing any spell cast. Vampires, of course, possessed no mana and passed through stone circles unaffected. I, however, would be at a severe disadvantage, laid bare to his attack.
But I knew I would not stand alone for long. Once in the circle’s center, I could summon those who would come to my aid, creatures powerful enough to make even Emilio pause.
And truly, it didn’t really matter.
I had no choice. Soon, I would lose even the owl form.
Diving from the sky, I skidded to a quick stop in the meadow before the trees, shedding my feathered form with haste. I could hear Emilio only feet behind me, battling through the Rowan shield of protection.
“Latchling? Is that you?” I heard him rasp from only yards away.
I didn’t answer, of course. Regaining my legs, I ran for the massive ring of stones, scattering snow in all directions. I had only moments before the Rowan shield dropped and he would see me there.
But then a strange thing happened. As my feet touched the ground, a fine mist rose from the snowy earth, and by the time I reached the outer ring, a heavy fog stood between me and Emilio’s shadow quickly closing in from behind.
My elbow brushed the first ancient stone and my brows peaked in surprise.
The stone immediately responded to my touch, glowing a soft, cool green, the kind of green that reminded me of a lazy summer’s day.
Heartened, I whispered, “I can't win this fight alone.”
And then I sprang into the center of the circle even as something moved in the mists swirling just outside the stones.
Something dark, disturbing, and immensely powerful.
Emilio.
But no sooner had the mists begun to part, allowing him entry, then a howl rent the night air, a deep howl.
With a hiss, Emilio withdrew.
The next moment, wolves swarmed the circle’s perimeter—and not just any wolves. I heard the strength in their howls even before I sensed the crackling sizzle of their power.
Yet even more startling, I detected the scent of a Chosen One in their midst. A vampire? Running with a pack of the ancient wolf kind? Surely, I was mistaken, but then a blur flashed into the circle—something too quick to be anything but a Chosen One, coming towards me at full speed.
The vampire appeared almost as if from thin air to deliver an elegant bow. His dark hair fell over his face—an astonishingly beautiful yet masculine face with a dangerous smile, soulful eyes, and a jagged scar running down the side of his cheek, emphasized by the bright light of the moon.
“At your service, ma belle dame,” the vampire greeted me with a charming smile. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Jacques. Jacques Lebeau, the Devil of France.”
Before I could respond, a large gray wolf stepped within the magic of the stones, shedding his wolf form to reveal that of an arresting man with a shar
p nose and piercing, hawk-like eyes. The braids adorning his temples bespoke his station as a warrior, but it was obvious by the way he moved, his every muscle and nerve was taut and on high alert.
“He is here,” he announced, his brows drawn into a thick line. “I smell him.”
The rest of the pack pacing the stones’ perimeter began to growl, their eyes glowing a deep amber and the fur along the ridge of their spines rising to stand on end.
Jacques’ fangs extended. “Patience, cher oncle,” he said. “’Tis the ring we must follow.”
“The ring?” I repeated, shivering with the memory of its evil. “What do you know of this thing?”
“She is the one,” a woman’s voice said from somewhere behind me.
I turned to see an ebony wolf with a nearly grown pup at her side, both staring at me from the dark depths beyond the stones. As I watched, the mother pushed through the stones, a deep growl escaping her throat as she shifted into a tall, willowy woman with blue eyes and black, silver-streaked hair falling across her face and down over her shoulders.
The wolves watched as she moved past me to touch one of the stones. As it had for me, it glowed under her fingers. She closed her eyes and turned to me in awe. “A latchling!” she inhaled sharply.
A sudden gust of wind punctuated this statement, lending drama to her words.
The wolves around the circle howled, their eyes pools of liquid fire.
“She is of the druid kind,” the dark-haired woman assessed, moving to stand directly in front of me. “These stones sang and the mists rose to shield you. Only those of druid blood can bid these things to happen.” She paused to curtsey low before adding, “I am Megan and I am most honored to serve you.”
I curtsied in turn. “And I thank you and your kindred for heeding my call,” I said in heartfelt, deep respect. “I am Lady Elizabeth Rowle, and I must return to Castle Llewellyn, swiftly, with great haste.” I hesitated and then turned back to the vampire. “But I would know more of this ring you speak of, Jacques Lebeau.”
He didn’t hesitate. “’Tis a ring of great evil and a thing from hell, my lady,” he replied, his piercing eyes searching mine. “A ring created by the Mindbreaker himself.”
I started slightly at the name. He didn’t miss the reaction. “And to what purpose is it used?” I queried.
“We have yet to discover,” Megan replied in his stead. “But we follow the ring, praying it will lead us to its master—so that he may, at last, be destroyed.”
I frowned a little. “He walked nigh on thirteen hundred years ago,” I said. “Surely, he has died? Why do you speak as if he lives?”
They exchanged quick glances, the wolves and vampire. I didn’t think they’d respond, but to my surprise, it was Jacques who again spoke. “’Tis those of the Second Sight in the north who warned us, my lady,” he said. “The women of Clan Ramsey. They called us this summer—and lost their lives for it. For now, we follow the ring.”
‘Twas clearly a twisted tale of complexity and one that required much more time to understand than I had at present.
The vampire must have read my mind, because his next words were, “He follows you, my lady. You must return to safety. I fear his interest will prove deadly should he catch you here, so near the ring.”
I nodded in agreement.
The woman’s ebony, half-grown pup leapt into the circle then, her dark fur melting and extending into a young, wiry lass with the same blue eyes as her mother but with her black braids plaited in warrior fashion. I found it astonishing, really, that one so young had already achieved such distinction in her short life.
“Run with us, Lady Rowle,” the young wolf lass suggested, plucking several strands of her hair and laying them across my palm. “I give you my form freely. Run as me. He won’t expect that.”
My eyes widened at the selflessness of her gift. “I thank you, child,” I murmured in awe of her purity. “I cannot deny ‘tis a good plan.”
“Then we will run with you to the edge of the forest,” her mother decided. “And then you must fly. Take this, my lady.” Megan removed from her neck a small crystal vial strung on a strand of beads and handed it to me. “This crystal holds wolf mana, my lady. ‘Tis strong and pure, and should suit your needs.”
It was a princely gift. I closed my eyes, gratefully. “There is little time,” I said, wishing I could stay and speak more with these wise creatures. “When the danger subsides, I would continue our conversation. There is much I must learn.”
“We shall listen for your call,” the woman nodded gracefully, already moving to exit the stones.
I quickly followed, and stepping out of the circle, assumed the small, ebony wolf’s form. They formed their pack around me, a handful of the great beasts joining Jacques at the head as several flanked my sides and the remainder brought up the rear. With so many wolves covering my tracks, Emilio didn’t stand a chance in finding me.
A gray-eyed wolf padded up to me. “Let us run, my lady.”
And we did, taking to the narrow woodland paths with the silence of forest hunters. ‘Twas beyond incredible. The rhythm of the pack: The blood pounding in my ears as startled owls broke from the trees overhead to soar into the night sky. The muted rustle of snow-covered twigs beneath my paws.
We covered the distance quickly, and it wasn’t long before I crouched in the hedges at the forest’s edge with Castle Llewellyn’s many towers rising high before me.
“’Tis time to fly,” Jacques said as I padded up beside him. “I fear he is close. Make haste, ma belle dame.”
I replied by slipping out of my wolf shape to assume the comforting, familiar form of a white owl.
“We shall meet again, soon,” the French vampire promised with a sweeping bow.
Nodding, I spread my wings and launched myself above the whispering ceiling of leaves and, catching the wind, headed for the towers.
The first curse struck me almost at once. I felt the jolt of energy race over my back, the heat nearly singing my feathers.
My wards shuddered, but held.
I wasn’t prepared for an even stronger attack immediately following upon the heels of the first, shattering my wards at the end but not before they’d done their job. I would have to hurry. I couldn’t risk another attack, but fortunately, I didn’t have far to go.
Beneath me, the wolves began to howl. I saw them streak out of the forest and converge on a nearby stand of oaks.
“Fly!” the gray-eyed wolf shouted, the air rattling with his deep voice.
My wings beat the air.
But then, when I had nearly reached the castle wall, a curse of raw evil rose from the ground, rolling over me and slicing my flight feathers before I could spring out of the way. I plummeted from the sky, desperately weaving a counter-spell to prevent the rest of the curse from taking effect. For several long, spellbinding seconds, I careened madly towards the ground.
Finally, I broke free, but not soon enough to prevent myself from crashing against the castle wall, and then, I heard the unmistakable snap of bone.
Betrayed by a Curse
I flopped to the ground, gasping in pain with my wing most likely broken. Above my head, one of the castle guards peered over the wall, but seeing only an injured owl flapping haplessly in the shadows, he lost interest and turned away.
The wolves howled to the north, apparently hot on Emilio’s trail. I wished I could call them back to find my attacker instead. The powerful curse astonished and frightened me. Even after my counterstrike, I could still feel its dark mana seeking new footholds in my flesh. I’d have to switch back to human form to vanquish it entirely, otherwise, with the curse still latching onto me, it would take only one simple touch from its creator to unleash its evil to feast upon my flesh.
Sweating in pain, I pressed myself into the shadows and returned to my human form. My fingers trembled as I twisted off the lid from the wolf’s mana crystal still dangling from my neck and dumping the entire contents into my cup
ped palm, slathered the mana over my forehead, gasping the words of a healing spell.
But instead of the cool sensations of healing soothing my flesh, I experienced an unexpected white-hot, searing jolt of agony.
“Unbelievable!” I choked, astounded that I’d been struck by a masterful, multilayered curse.
As my healing spell began its work, this new curse unfolded, tit for tat. It ripped through my legs, obscenely jerking my knee in an impossible angle even as, miraculously, the bone fragments in my shoulder and arm began to realign and reconnect.
I collapsed against the wall, quickly recanting my spell. What good would healing my arm be if I broke my leg in the process?
The healing spell receded and, to my relief, the curse along with it.
I gulped and wiped my sweating forehead with the back of my arm.
Thankfully, I’d stopped before my knee had shattered, but it was sore and while not restored, my shoulder and arm, for now, were at least bearable.
I needed help. And that meant I had to escape back to my sanctuary, my chamber.
Summoning my wavering strength, I prayed I retained enough mana to shift—and that such an act would not release even more curses upon my head—and selecting a tail from my cloak, focused my thoughts and whispered the words of a new incantation.
The curse tingled and sizzled my flesh, but it didn’t prevent me from melting into the tiny body of a mouse. Relieved, I scampered along the wall to the mighty castle gates and slipped beneath them undetected. Keeping to the shadows, I dashed up the tower stairs and along the north battlement until minutes later, I stood in my chamber, winded, shaking, and still in marked pain.
I’d scarcely regained my human form before, once again, I sensed Emilio’s dark, probing mana creeping towards my chamber door.
“Be gone,” I whispered, banishing his mana from my door.
To my relief, it slithered away, back to the depths from which it came.
So, the wolves howling in the north must be howling on the trail of my attacker. I took a long, wavering breath, relieved at the thought. At least I’d gained a few moments respite. Hopefully enough to break the curse once and for all.