by Aimee Hunter
“Why would it matter if you were killed here?” Lana asked, confused.
“Because my people love me. They look to me for guidance. My brother may be the one in charge of protecting us, but I am the one my people look to, to lead them.” The two elder Stone sisters nod their understanding.
“He has to maintain the appearance of a loving brother, if he were to have you assassinated he’d likely have a revolt on his hands. But if you were to die in the city during the attack, he could easily spin it to make it seem as if you died betraying your people. Then he could make his move to take power.” Diana said.
“Exactly. This entire situation has played too perfectly into his plans. Now he’s moving to take advantage of it. You three being here has him worried and once he learns that he no longer has my support, he’ll be livid. He’ll be more likely to make a mistake.” Mason smiled slowly at that, liking the idea immensely. She turned to her sisters, saying.
“How about we go have a look at this army of his? Rena is outside waiting with the horses.” They agree and begin moving towards the door when Sylvia reaches out to grasp Lana’s arm lightly. The Kahlian turns to look at her questioningly.
“I would like to come with you, I can easily lead you to them. Besides, if he’s already on his way here who knows what other plans have changed.” Lana looks over to Mason for her answer, even though she would like for Sylvia to accompany them, the decision is ultimately her sisters’. Glancing between the two women, Mason knew, as she gave her permission for the Nightkin to come with them, that they needed more time together, to overcome all the lies, to let go of the last dregs of pain and maybe one day, they could learn to trust each other again. But that would have to wait, they would have to survive the coming days first.
Chapter Eleven
The five women rode out of the city gates as night enveloped the land. They rode silently for an hour, Mason taking the lead riding her big black stallion ahead of the others. Her preternatural eyes giving definition to the blurry, dark shadows surrounding the little group. Rena spurred her buckskin mare up next to the her.
“Isn’t Sylvia a mutant?” she whispered, leaning closer to Mason, who nodded still watching the shadows. “Then why is she coming with us?” The young Princess persisted. The older woman sighed, looking over at Rena, realizing that her curiosity was piqued and she wasn’t going to let it go.
“She and Lana have some history, and yes, she’s a mutant. As for why she’s with us,” Mason glances over at the woman in question who rides next to Lana before returning her attention to Rena. “She just learned that her brother betrayed her, and was the cause of countless deaths. I think she wants justice.” Rena considered her companion’s words as she regarded the mutant woman. She’d never been this close to a mutant before, at least one that wasn’t trying to kill her.
“Is that why there is so much tension between them?” she asked, indicating how stiffly the two women were acting around each other.
“They are the victims of an epic misunderstanding, and a conniving, power hunger, mutant named Sylvan.” Mason supplied.
“Which would be Sylvia’s brothers name I’m assuming.” The tall Kahlian nodded as she reined in her horse bringing the small party to a stop. Lana and Diana rode their horse’s up next to Mason and Rena.
“What is it, Sister?” Diana asked quietly, scanning the darkness around them as well.
“We’re being followed.” Came the whispered reply, dismounting casually and proceeding on foot. The other women followed suit, the three sisters form a protective circle around Rena and Sylvia. Mason halted, holding up her hand to signal the others to do the same. “There.” Her voice was barely audible but the four women heard her easily. They handed the reins of their horses to Sylvia and Rena before disappearing into the night. The three women shifted with a more muted flash of light than normally accompanies the event. The white and red wolves gazed at the black wolf with golden eyes as she lifted her nose to the gentle breeze, drawing the nocturnal scents into her nostrils, sifting through them until she came across an all too familiar one.
Damian. The name vibrated through Mason and Lana’s mind as well as Rena and Sylvia’s.
Rena, Mason sent, watching the woman turn her head slightly in her direction. Give the reins to Sylvia and join us. The young Princess raised her eyebrows, looking over at Sylvia, who was holding her hand out.
“Go on. You need to learn how to hunt, little wolf.” She told her, causing Rena to gasp.
“How did you know?” she stammered. Sylvia smiled gently.
“I’ve known these women for a century. I know shape shifters when I see them.” Rena tilted her head and considered the young woman before her. Sylvia had long white hair, and her eyes, though an unnatural shade of lavender, were warm and kind. She wore dark blue garments that resembled robes and a pitch black cape that offset her pale looks, at her hip was the strangest looking sword Rena had yet seen.
“Are you immortal too?” she asked finally. Sylvia shook her head.
“Not exactly,” she told her, “I can’t grow old or get sick, but I can die, like a human. I’m eternally mortal.” She explained. Rena frowned in confusion.
Quickly, Rena. Mason piped up irritably, causing the younger woman to jump.
Sorry. She apologized quickly, handing the reins to Sylvia before trotting into the dark forest. Sylvia saw the almost purplish light and smirked, she really was young. The large silver wolf joined the sisters, surprised that she could tell them apart.
Rena. Mason stepped forward to nuzzle the silver wolf’s ear, garnering her attention. Follow close behind us, but try to stay out of sight. The Princess started to nod but remembered she was a wolf at the moment.
Right. Okay. She sent back. Mason took the lead as they set out quietly navigating the black, silent forest. Rena looked around, taking in her surroundings. This forest was very different from the forests’ she knew back home. It was darker somehow, yet she could still see as clearly as she could during the day. She stopped, catching movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head to look fully at the cause, seeing a squirrel scampering up a tree and disappearing inside a hole in the trunk. The forest was once again still, the trees looked like silent, imposing sentries. The bitter cold of late fall leaving them mostly bare. Rena hurried to catch up with the others when she noticed she had fallen behind. The forest floor beneath her paws was soft and spongey from a recent rain. It was carpeted by fallen leaves and dead branches. She stared in awe around her. Back home, she’d never roamed as freely as this barring the first time. She’d always been careful to stick to sparsely populated areas of the grounds and made sure that she was never gone for too long.
She tried smelling the air like she had seen Diana stop and do a few times since they had transformed. Her mind exploded in a myriad of colors and scents, images flitting through her mind like she was watching a movie. Each scent telling the story of the creatures that lived in the forest. The scent was musky, from the leaves and moss that were growing on the tree trunks. She could smell the death the forest had gone through, just recently fully recovered from it. A different scent found its way to her inquisitive nose, causing her to look to Mason for an explanation.
What’s that smell, Mason? she questioned. The white wolf’s ear flicked back towards Rena, the gesture letting her know that Mason had heard her. It doesn’t smell like the forest.
That’s because it’s not of the forest. Mason told her. That’s the smell of mutants on the hunt. She explained. Lana, is Sylvia still with us? Lana looked over into the clearing and halted when she didn’t immediately see the mutant woman, only relaxing when she finally caught sight of her.
Yes. She replied. They continued on quietly, keeping pace with Sylvia who knew exactly where they were. She stiffened suddenly, feeling the presence of other mutants.
We know. We sense them too. Just keep walking, we’ll protect you. Came Lana’s reassuring voice in her mind. Sylvia smiled
sadly at those words. There was a time when that statement would have been enough to ease all her worries, but now, she found it only slightly comforting. While the anger and sense of betrayal had faded after their conversation, she found she couldn’t quite shake the hurt still buried in her heart. She understood now why Lana had to leave the way she did, what she must have thought after she found her people and then saw the destruction of Moon Valley, but she was having a hard time moving past the hurt of being left behind. She knew that it would take far more than one conversation to heal the wounds she had carried for so long. She could only imagine what it would take for Lana to move past her own battered heart. She wondered if they would ever be able to move past it. She continued walking as Lana had instructed her to, the past pulling at her mind.
She had trusted Lana like no one before or since. She had trusted her with her heart, her life, the lives of all those around her. How many people had perished the night Lana had disappeared? How many of her friends and family had died? She hadn’t seen her again for nearly sixty years, not until a few days ago, and all that time her brother had been filling her head with lies. Telling her that Lana had vanished mere hours before the Kahlian mutant hybrid army had laid waste to their city. He had laid the blame for it at her feet, spinning story after story of her betrayal. In reality, Sylvan had been at fault, and she had been the fool to believe him. Anger burned through her thinking about it. Her twin had played them all for the fools they were, and now he had some grand scheme in the works with Damian. Her brow furrowed as she thought about that particularly strange relationship.
Sylvan claimed that the Kahlian man had saved him from certain death, but what death could he have possibly faced that would warrant such an extreme repayment? A sinking feeling hit her stomach as her mind began to work overtime, thinking about just how long her brother and Damian had known each other. This entire situation was all too familiar. She mentally shook herself out of her depressing thoughts, looking up at the clear night sky, the moon was very nearly full. The stars twinkled down at her, making her long for hot summer nights spent making love underneath a similar sky.
Sylvia’s head snapped to the left when she heard a sudden noise shatter the stillness of the night. She frowned and stopped, trying to pierce the veil of darkness in front of her to see what was causing the noise.
Sylvia, keep going, don’t stop. You don’t want to know what that noise is. Lana warned, making the Nightkin jump. She rolled her eyes and mentally scoffed at herself for being so jumpy. Sylvia dropped the reins, ground tying the horses and moved closer to the edge of the woods where the noise had originated. She tried to make out the shadows moving just inside the tree line, before gasping and jumping back, drawing her sword reflexively. Her single edged, slim scimitar glinted in the moonlight as she held it up, ready to decapitate anything that popped up at her.
Sylvia! Lana’s voice shouted in her mind, making her wince. Back away before they spot you. Quietly.
What are they? She wanted to know.
True mutant Kahlian’s. Not like the ones your brother created. These creatures are the results of those of our people that didn’t make it to shelter in time when the bombs hit. Lana replied in a tight voice. Sylvia walked back to the horses, sheathing her sword. She took up the reins and began walking again. Lana mentally sighed in relief. Mason nudged her gently.
She’s okay, Lana. Come on. Once again taking the lead, Mason silently slipped through the shadows, letting Lana deal with the waning effects of her adrenaline rush in her own way. Rena turned to Diana with questioning eyes from where they hung back from the other two.
We tell our secrets in our own time, Princess, and theirs are not mine to tell. Diana told her. A tense, watchful silence followed that lasted for the remaining hours of their journey.
The Eastland Princess gradually became used to the constant influx of new information to her senses as they travelled, though she struggled somewhat with the pace. She had never been in her wolf form for so long and she had no idea that she could sustain a run that ate away the miles. This entire night thus far, had been an eye-opening experience for her. It made her realize that all those years she had snuck away from home to roam the country side had in no way prepared her for the reality of her current situation, she was shocked that she was able to keep up with the sisters who had centuries of experience on her.
Rena. Mason called her, just a few hours before dawn. She trotted up beside her, tilting her head looking in the direction Mason gestured towards. She was surprised to find herself staring down into a valley. Thousands of tiny campfires made it seem as if day had come only to this valley, leaving the rest of the world shrouded in darkness. Rena shuddered and shifted closer to the white wolf beside her. Mason looked over at her sympathetically.
Diana and Lana moved up beside the two wolves, joining them on the hill overlooking the encampment. They saw no sign of Damian and no longer felt his presence, Mason growled in frustration. She was growing tired of this game he was playing, she need answers. Now. She kept feeling like she was something, some angle. The white wolf lowered her head, trying to make out the figures sitting beside the campfires, but was unsuccessful due to the glare of the fires. Sylvia walked out of the shadows carrying four saddlebags, dropping each in front of the wolf it belonged to. The four women changed and dressed silently, Mason winced at the bright flash of light from Rena.
“We really need to teach you how to shift with a softer light.” She said, Rena frowned at her, continuing to dress without comment, choosing to save that discussion for another time. The five women stood shoulder to shoulder gazing down into the army encampment.
“I don’t understand. I thought most mutants weren’t able to organize like this.” Rena stated in confusion.
“They’re not, Princess. Not unless someone is controlling them.” Sylvia informed her softly causing the four shape shifters to stare at her expectantly.
“What do you mean?” Lana whispered so as not to give away their position. Sylvia gave her a sideways glance before answering.
“Sylvan has exerted control over them at Damian’s request, to bolster our numbers. I believe they were hoping to pin the attack on Culville on the Impure, leaving Damian free to play the hero.” Mason’s head whipped around to stare at the Nightkin leader.
“Damian wants Culville.” She stated, looking back at the scene before them once Sylvia confirmed it.
“He’s playing the long game. He intends to take absolute control of Culville after my brother’s army attacks it.” Rena shakes her head, not understanding the motives behind this power play.
“For what purpose? There will be nothing left to control after this army makes its way through the city.” She pointed out. Sylvia shook her head sadly, glancing at Lana then Diana before responding to the young Princess.
“We were asked to simply attack, not destroy.” Lana draws in a sharp breath as clarity strikes.
“It’s a diversion. He doesn’t want the city sacked. He wants the Culville military completely distracted by an attacking horde of mutants, so he can achieve his true goal.” Lana theorized. “But what is his endgame? What does he need such a drastic diversion for?” she wondered. Before anyone can hazard a guess, they are interrupted by a commotion in the valley.
The five women slipped down the hill silently to get a better look. They reached the edge of the encampment and stopped, staying out of the light cast by the fires. No one was surprised to see Damian in the midst of the mutant army. He was sitting with a group of white haired mutants very similar in appearance to their own mutant companion. The pale woman gritted her teeth as Sylvan sat next to Damian, the two men were in a heated conversation judging from their body language. Sylvia guessed that the Kahlian man was not happy her brother had brought the army so close to Culville so early. The Stone sisters turned to the mutant woman, their gazes slightly sympathetic yet measuring, as if wondering what her reaction will be now that she had a clear picture of the typ
e of person her brother is. Lana inched closer placing her hand on her former lover’s shoulder comfortingly, surprised when she wasn’t immediately shaken off. Sylvia turned wide eyes to Lana, shaking her head vehemently, before moving out from under Lana’s hand.
While the other women were preoccupied with the interaction between Lana and Sylvia, Rena spotted someone she couldn’t believe she was actually seeing. “Devon?” She grasped Mason’s arm tightly, gaining her attention and pointing out the man’s presence. Once the older woman caught sight of him, her expression grew cold. Feeling the tension in the arm she held, Rena’s grip became stronger, hoping to somehow restrain the other woman before she attacked the errant Prince.
No. She sent the one word forcibly. Mason tore her gaze away from the Prince, her deadly thoughts evident in her suddenly pale blue eyes. Diana noticed the Prince as well, adding her support.
She’s right, Mason. Now is definitely not the time for vengeance. They all looked back into the enemy camp when Damian surged to his feet, looking directly at their hiding place. Though he couldn’t see them, he knew they were there, a slow smile stole across his face.
“I think running would be a good idea right about now.” Rena whispered urgently. Mason hated to admit that she was right, even though they were vastly outnumbered. The entire encampment became aware of their presence, sending the five women scrambling back up the hill to their horses. Not a word was spoken as they mounted up, sinking their heels into their horse’s flanks, after that speech wasn’t possible and telepathic communication would only reveal their location if Damian was at all close behind them. They rode the rest of the night and half the following day in silence, not stopping until they were before the gates of Culville, each woman lost to her own thoughts.
Devon was angry. Actually he was livid and panicking, “Damn it, Damian! What if they saw me?” The older man chuckled.
“Oh, they saw you, Your Highness, of that there is no doubt.”