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Shifters After Dark Box Set: (6-Book Bundle)

Page 94

by SM Reine


  “I just need to walk it out,” she stated, unwilling to allow him any more self-pity. She snatched the bundled shafts and dumped them into her quiver.

  He turned the sword towards her, offering her the hilt.

  “Last time you offered a lady a sword, it did not end well,” she tried to joke.

  Instead, it flared up more worry in his eyes. “The Princess Gisla?”

  “She is alive,” said Aein, taking the sword gently. “Alive, but… cursed.”

  He gritted his teeth and kicked the ground angrily before he asked, “How do you know for sure?”

  “Do you remember last night, we were together in that chapel?”

  “I remember,” he said.

  “She was the one who chased us.”

  “Oh,” he said. He rubbed the palms of his hands into his eyes. “But she lives?”

  “She saved me,” said Aein. “She was safe in the stronghold the last I saw her. She will have changed back to wolf with the sunset, though.”

  “And the others? How many casualties?”

  “I do not know. When the sky changed, there was a moment where we thought those who were wolves were now people and it was safe. I think many, like us, rushed to see who survived. Only…”

  “…only once they were together, out of hiding, they were in prime position to kill their most loved one.”

  Aein nodded.

  Of all the impressions she had of Finn, intelligence was the strongest. She could almost see the moment the last puzzle piece fell into place. The last piece was Aein.

  “Do you change?” he asked her.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Aein stabbed the ground with the tip of her sword. “I do not know. I should have. I…”

  “What?” he asked, pressing her to continue her sentence.

  He was watching her intently, scanning and cataloging every movement she made. “The night I was on the border, there were two men who died. They were torn apart, but I didn’t hear it. Only later, the fog surrounded me and I heard the sounds of a beast, some sort of a dog or a wolf. I heard the men dying.”

  Finn laced his fingers together and placed them on top of his head. He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the moon. His voice was filled with incredulity. “Are you telling me you heard monsters in the fog and that Lord Protector of yours did not alert every man, woman, and child something was coming?!”

  Aein was taken aback by his fierceness. “No. Should he have?”

  “YES!” said Finn. “YES! That is what you are supposed to do when… oh for the gods… Oh, if I had only known! I would have…” He walked over to the tree. It looked like he wanted to punch it, but he stopped himself and came back. He calmed himself down and spoke very slowly. “So, you heard monsters in the fog, and your Lord Protector did nothing. What happened after that?”

  She held up her hands. “No! No. That’s not…” she stopped herself and started again. “There is something that happened and I’m just beginning to see it. I don’t know if it is anything, only…”

  “Only what?”

  “Do you remember that night when we were sharing a cup of ale and the cook caught us in the cellar?”

  Finn motioned for her to go on.

  “I used to work in the kitchens, back before I joined the guards. That man was a second father to me. And as a special favor, he asked me to bring back some mushrooms from the swamp. He said they were the finest ingredient in the world. He put those mushrooms into every dish served at the dinner.”

  “You think these mushrooms caused people to transform?” asked Finn. “But you touched them and you are not cursed.”

  “That is why I must get into the stronghold to see if Cook Bolstad is still alive. I must see if…” She could not bring herself to finish the sentence. To see if her dear friend was responsible for cursing all the life in the stronghold? “I must see if he knows anything and, if so, if he knows of an antidote.”

  Finn did not hesitate for a moment. “I will help you,” he said, gripping her arm. “We will find him if he is alive and get to the bottom of this.”

  “I don’t know how to get in, though,” she admitted. “I was going to ask the people in the courtyard to raise the portcullis for us, but if there are wolves in there…”

  Finn laughed. “Did you really think that the powerful elite of your castle would have left themselves with no means of escape should the stronghold come under attack?”

  “What?” she asked.

  “I am the personal guard to Princess Gisla,” he said. “And I know more secrets about your stronghold than the builder. She and Lord Arnkell met before the wedding battle.”

  “That is forbidden!” said Aein.

  “Nevertheless, before she arrived to challenge him to the marriage, they met in the forest behind the stronghold to decide how it was going to go. I saw Lord Arnkell emerge from the hidden door. I think I can still find it.”

  Aein shivered. It was their way in, but it also meant Lord Arnkell had a way out. “If he knows about the door, he may have escaped in human form, thinking he was retreating to safety. If he shifted, he may have placed himself and every person in his land in danger.”

  “One crisis at a time, Aein,” said Finn. “We go in. We find this cook of yours and find out what he knows about these mushrooms. And then we go after Lord Arnkell.”

  Aein nodded in agreement. There was no other choice. But as they made their way through the darkness of the woods, she was checking over her shoulder frequently for any rustling in the brush, any sign that they were being followed by a creature able to escape the doomed fortress.

  Chapter Twelve

  The entrance was a trapdoor hidden behind a mountain of rocks.

  “It is smart,” explained Finn. “Most people would seek shelter in the cave. They would not think to look for a secret door just a few feet away.”

  He brushed aside the blanket of pine needles to reveal a large, flat flagstone. He flipped it up on end. Beneath it was a set of wooden stairs which led into the darkness below. He lay down on his stomach and fumbled around the dark walls. Finally, he seemed to find what he was looking for. He pulled out a lantern with a bit of flint stowed handily inside. He cracked the two pieces together to catch the candle’s wick. It was dim, but serviceable. He went down the stairs first, one hand holding the lantern, the other gripping his sword. Aein followed close behind, pulling the rock back into place.

  The stairs led into a natural cavern. The walls sparkled in the firelight.

  “I did not even know this was down here,” mused Aein in awe as she looked at the dripping stalactites. The entire cave looked like a meringue Cook Bolstad could have created.

  Finn gave a low whistle. “It makes a great deal of sense. Saved themselves a lot of work to use this natural opening.”

  The cave was quiet except for the distant drip of water through the rocks. As they continued on down the path, the sound of water became stronger. Finn held his light to the right and a swift river was flowing through the cavern. Aein paused for a moment to dip her hand into the current. She sniffed at it, then tasted it with her tongue. There was a strong flavor of minerals, but nothing which made her recoil.

  “Good?” Finn asked.

  She nodded and he lay on the bank beside her to scoop some in his hands. As he went, his leg brushed up against hers, and she felt the strangest surge of protectiveness for him. She placed her hand upon his back.

  “Are you all right?” he asked her.

  “Don’t fall in,” she replied, gripping the back of his belt.

  He flashed her a smile and shook his head, then leaned forward to drink.

  She knew that fear sometimes bonded people together, and the rush, the palpitating heat of terror could be confused for other things. But Finn? He was a good man, she reflected. She was glad he was the one at her side.

  “We should be moving on,” she pointed out. “The few hours we have until sunr
ise already don’t seem enough.”

  “Have you slept at all?” he asked.

  She didn’t have the heart to tell him she had been awake since the morning Princess Gisla arrived. “I try to grab a few winks wherever I can.”

  They continued on along the path until it dead-ended at a wooden door. It hung open. It should have been barred from the other side.

  “Well, we have our answer whether someone used this to get out,” said Aein.

  Finn gripped her arm bracingly. There was nothing they could do about it, she thought. Whoever escaped was in human form. Hopefully werewolves couldn’t unlatch trapdoors and climb ladders to sneak up after them.

  They kept walking and found four more doors, all unlocked, all hanging open. They finally reached a wooden staircase with a door high overhead. Steadily they climbed up. The door was closed, but Finn opened it just a crack to look out. The door was behind a tapestry which had been ripped to shreds. The door itself featured massive scratch marks where some beast had tried to break it down. The hallway was empty, filled with the corpses of both men and animals, ripped apart by this curse.

  Finn motioned to Aein for silence. She punched him lightly in the arm and he looked back at her in surprise. She glared at him for the insult. As if she was going to go shouting around this place, alerting the creatures that they had returned. He smiled in understanding, but there was something more in his smile. Like he saw her just a little differently, as more of a peer than an untested kid. He seemed to approve of the change.

  Aein pointed towards the kitchen. Finn left the lamp on the steps to the secret passageway and shut the door. Aein realized he was already planning that they might need to make a hasty retreat later. They padded down the hallway. There were snuffling noises in the great hall. Aein was glad Finn was just as happy as she was to let whatever was in the hall be in the great hall. They did not see any people... any living people.

  The door to the kitchen hung off of its hinges. Blood was spattered all over the walls. Finn looked at Aein, and they both held their swords tighter as they entered.

  Out of nowhere, one of the beasts flew at them. He knocked Finn down and grabbed hold of his arm, shaking him so hard his sword flew out of his hand and clattered to the floor. Aein wasted no time, though. She had been in this situation too many times in the past two days. The only thing that worked was the move she had seen Princess Gisla execute. Pulling her sword above her with two hands, she drove it down, decapitating the animal. She clenched her teeth and did not allow any sort of a cry to escape her lips. They needed to be as silent as assassins if they hoped to survive this.

  “Thank you,” said Finn. His arm was bleeding again.

  Aein stepped over to the drawers where the Cook Bolstad kept the cheese cloths. She tossed it back to Finn. “You’re making a habit of this,” she warned.

  He caught it mid-air and pressed it against his wound. “I do it just to annoy you.”

  The kitchen was destroyed. Every pot, every piece of crockery was on the floor. Tables were upended. Great clawed gashes were everywhere. There was the smell of rotting things in the air. Aein placed her hand over her nose, the stench of bodies and spoiled milk almost more than she could bear.

  “Cook?” she whispered. “Cook Bolstad? Are you there?”

  There was no response. Slowly, she picked her way through the room. Face after face she recognized. Some of the butcher knives had been used to fend off the monsters, but they hadn’t stood a chance. Not against monsters like these.

  But the door to the larder at the back of the kitchen was closed. Aein felt her heart begin to pound. It seemed strange, in a room with so much destruction, with every door ripped open, that one would remain undisturbed. Did Cook Bolstad stay locked safely inside since she left him? Did any other survivors try to hide in there?

  Aein picked her way through the spilled flour and broken eggs. She knocked gently at the door. Finn raised an eyebrow. She knocked again. There was no sound of scuffling. No immediate attack. So, she grabbed a hold of the larder door and pushed it open.

  The answer waited for her within. One of the werewolves lay dead, his head chopped off with a meat cleaver. And behind him was the man who had used himself as bait to lure the beast away from the kitchen: her dear friend Cook Bolstad.

  His head raised slightly and his eyes squinted in the light. “Well, look what the dog dragged in.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Aein grabbed the beast’s body and dragged it out into the kitchen. “Get a taper. Light it from the fire,” she commanded Finn. He did not protest, bringing the light in with him as she returned to the larder.

  Aein closed the door behind them both. It was not the best shelter, but it would do until they figured out what was going on.

  Cook Bolstad was clutching his belly. Dark crimson stained all his clothes. Even though he held himself together, thought Aein, his punctured innards would have poisoned him. He would have been better off if the werewolf had killed him and saved him this suffering. He was not long for this world.

  Tears sprang up in her eyes. For the first time since all of this began, she felt the enormous sorrow of everything that had happened. This man was supposed to be her home. This man was supposed to be her safety, and here he was, dying. And she was powerless to do anything about it.

  She sat down next to him and rested her hand upon his, lending him pressure for his wounds.

  “Took you long enough to get here,” he said.

  “I decided to take a scenic route,” she replied.

  Cook Bolstad gasped in pain. “Do not make me laugh, girl.” He then grimaced and settled back in. “Oh, I thought those wolves would have done me in long before now.”

  “Stop your moaning,” she replied, brushing back his blood soaked hair. “You’re too mean to die.”

  “You’re probably right,” he said. “With my luck, you are probably right.”

  “What happened here?”

  “What does it look like happened here? Those damned dogs got into my kitchen. Ruined my dinner.”

  Finn crouched down on the other side of Aein, bringing the light closer to Cook Bolstad. As Bolstad talked, he scanned his wounds, but gave an almost imperceptible shake to his head, confirming what Aein already knew. There would be no recovering from this.

  “Cook Bolstad. I must ask you something,” said Aein, fearful of the words about to come out of her mouth.

  “Ask quickly. I might not be around to give you an answer.”

  “You sent me out into the swamp to gather some mushrooms. Did you…?” She stopped herself and then tried again. “Did they cause all this?”

  Cook Bolstad laughed, which caused him to cough, which caused him to spit the blood filling his lungs. “I always said you were too smart to be a warrior. Too smart to be taking commands from the likes of Arnkell.”

  Aein felt like she had just been slapped. “You knew. You knew what they would do.”

  Cook Bolstad nodded. “Unfortunately, I was not smart enough. You and I, Aein. We’re good at taking orders, aren’t we?”

  “How do we stop it?” asked Aein.

  “Why did you do this?” asked Finn.

  Cook Bolstad, not thinking, raised both his hands to calm them down, and in doing so, the blood began to seep out of his gut once more. His skin paled and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

  “Stay with me!” said Aein, shaking him.

  “Lord Arnkell…” gasped Cook Bolstad. “He is not a good man… I had to… I had to do this… to keep you safe…”

  And with those words, Cook Bolstad slumped over and in just a few breaths more, he was gone.

  A strangled sound came from Aein’s throat. How could he? How… it felt as if her entire world was crumbling. White hot tears rolled out of her eyes. Silently, she tried to force them back inside.

  But Finn came over and gathered her up into his arms. He smelled of leather and war. She fought him for just a moment, tried to pretend lik
e she could handle this, but then collapsed into him, resting her cheek upon his shoulder as the tears rolled down and sobs wracked her body. Finn said nothing. He just quietly rocked her and murmured, “Shhh…”

  When at last every sob had been ripped from her, every emotion rung from her heart, she pulled back from him. He brushed aside the tears from her cheeks and smoothed her sweaty hair, despite the chill of the larder. He gave her a brave smile, but did not insult her by trying to tell her that it would be all right. He knew. He knew it never would be. Not ever again.

  Instead, all he asked was, “You okay?”

  She nodded, not trusting herself yet with words.

  “Good,” he replied. “The night is continuing on and I want to make sure to get you somewhere safe before I make my change.”

  She stood, knowing he was right. There would be time to mourn more later. Now, she just needed to focus on staying alive.

  As they started back towards the stairs, Finn commented, “These mushrooms, you got them in the eastern swamps?”

  She nodded. “He showed me a book—” She stopped herself and grabbed Finn’s arm. “He showed me a book!”

  She ran back into the larder. She scanned the floor, looking for the edge of the flagstone. Finn brought the taper over to give her more light. Finally, there, against in the corner was the stone she remembered. She dug at it with her fingertips. It was heavy, but it gave and she was able to pull it up. She reached around in the darkness. Her fingers brushed against something square and leather. It was the book. She pulled it out, her hands trembling, knowing what a sin it was for her to hold such an object. It didn’t matter. She had to know. She flipped to the page she remembered. “Those,” she said, pointing at the picture of the mushroom. “That’s what he had me collect.”

  They both stared at the page, with the scribbles written all around the picture.

  “I cannot read,” admitted Aein.

  Finn rubbed his lip nervously. “Neither can I,” he confessed.

 

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