by Mac Flynn
"The pretty dog has a nice collar, doesn't he?" he shouted over the howls of sadistic glee from the crowd.
Erik's eyes flickered to Greg. Greg grabbed my upper arms and gently pulled me away from my mate. I scowled at the servant and renewed my efforts to free myself from his grasp, but he held tight and we moved farther away from Erik.
"Let me go! He needs our help!" I ordered the servant.
Greg shook his head. "What he wishes is more important, and he wishes for you to be safe."
I scowled and whipped my head back to Erik. My eyes met his and I felt my control over my body fail me. My eyes widened and I shook my head. He was using that damned male wolf power over me. "No! I won't-" My words caught in my throat. I couldn't speak nor move on my own.
Greg pulled me away from the mob and down one of the streets that ran diagonal to the main thoroughfare. The crowds thinned to nothing, but still we kept going. We were several blocks away before I regained control over my body. My limbs tensed and I flexed my fingers. I tore myself from Greg's grasp and stumbled forward, but caught myself before I fell. I spun around to face him and my hands clenched into fists at my sides.
"What the hell was that about? Why the hell didn't you let me save him?" I growled.
Greg shook his head. "Nothing good would have come from fighting them," he argued.
"Nothing good? Erik would still be with us if we would've stood up for him!" I countered.
"You don't understand. The citizens here are angry. Their homes are broken, or worse, and they barely tolerate outsiders in the best of times. The Master chose wisely when he decided to let them take him," Greg insisted.
I threw my arms up and turned away from him. "So what do we do now, huh? We're in the middle of an island that hates our guts and Erik's been taken hostage like he's some sort of a criminal!"
"There are those loyal to the family on the island. My Master had planned for us to stay at the home of an old friend of the family. He will be able to counsel us on what we can do next," Greg told me.
I growled and kicked my foot against one of the rock houses. What I got for my trouble was a sore foot. The pain brought some sense into me. I sighed and dropped my arms to my side.
"Where does this guy live?"
Greg nodded to down the street. "Follow me."
Greg guided me through the crooked streets away from the crowded, bloodthirsty marketplace and to a calmer part of the island. The shops and squat homes fell away and were replaced by small fields of wheat and fruit trees. The houses grew larger, and some were even adorned with flowers and green yards. Many of the homes rose to two or three stories, and their large windows and spacious lanes showed the riches of their owners.
The old servant led me to one of the larger homes about four miles outside the town. A large, hard-packed dirt lot lay in front of the home, and a gable-roof stable stood to the left. The house had two floors and a large, covered wrap-around porch.
A wagon with a pair of beautiful chestnut horses stood in front of the open stable doors. Through the entrance I could see stalls filled with more fine horses. Atop the wagon sat man of sixty with graying hair at his temples. It was the calm Councilman I'd seen before.
Beside the wagon was a woman of forty. She wore the customary dress and had a hand on the seat of the wagon. Her lips were pursed and her eyes pleaded at him not to go, but she had a kind face that showed a demeanor that suited her calm husband.
"You will be safe, won't you?" she begged.
The man leaned down and clasped her hand in his. "I will, and I should return before nightfall."
"Master Alwin!" Greg called to him.
Alwin turned and his eyes widened when they fell on Greg. "Gregory! Where is your master? What news do you bring us?"
We reached the wagon and Greg shook his head. "Nothing good, I'm afraid. The townspeople have taken my Master to the Braille."
Alwin frowned and looked off in the distance towards the town. "What can they be thinking?" he murmured. He shook himself and returned his attention to us. "But you must be tired and we shouldn't loiter out in the open like this." He hopped off the wagon and turned to the open stables. "Eva!" A young girl of ten dashed out of the shadows and ran up to him. He bent down and handed her the reigns. "Put the horses back and come in after you're done, understand?"
She smiled and nodded. "Yes, Papa." The girl led the wagon away.
I pointed at the girl. "I thought werewolves couldn't have girls," I commented.
"My adopted daughter," Alwin explained as he turned to me. "She was washed up on the shores some years ago and we took her in, but that is old news. What we need is new." He spread out his arm and turned us towards the large house. "How is everyone at the old place?"
Greg smiled and nodded his head. "Very good, though we seem to have come at a bad time."
Alwin laughed and patted Greg's back. "Not at all. The berries on the bushes are big and bright this year."
I blinked at the two insane men. "With the hell are you-" A hand grabbed my sleeve and gave a polite tug. I looked and saw it was the woman.
She smiled at me and shook her head. "Don't mind them too much. Sometimes they speak for hours about nothing else but the color of the sky."
"Yeah, but Erik-" She pressed a finger to her lips.
"We must be inside," she whispered. Her eyes flickered to the bushes along the lane.
It was then that I realized the hidden meaning in Alwin's talk of the bushes. No place was safe, even on his estate. I stopped talking and was led inside.
CHAPTER 6
The interior of the home was plain but elegant. There was a small entrance hall with rooms on either side and a hallway that led to the rear of the house. Alwin let us into the right-hand room and I saw it was sitting room. The plush furniture was carved from a rich, dark oak and polished to a smooth, bright shine.
The woman took Greg's backpack and disappeared into the hall while Alwin seated us on a small couch. He closed the curtains and took a seat in a chair opposite us. His smiling demeanor slipped into a frown and he clasped his hands in his lap.
"Are the rumors true about rebellion in the marketplace?" he questioned us.
Greg nodded. "Yes. My Master was recognized by one of the more vocal leaders and taken to the Braille. The Guards attempted to stop the crowd, but they were overwhelmed."
"And Greenwood thought it best that he agree to his capture to lessen the trouble?" Alwin guessed.
"Exactly," Greg agreed. "If custom holds, there's to be a trial on the morrow. Am I correct?"
Alwin leaned back and snorted. "You are, but it will be a mockery of one, if there is one at all." He quieted when the woman returned and took a seat in the corner of the room. "Is Eva back?"
The woman nodded. "Yes, but she says the horses are nervous."
Alwin frowned. "That means spies among the bushes. The red berries are more eyes than delicious treats these days."
"Spies for whom?" Greg asked him.
The Councilman shook his head. "If I had that information I would bring it to the Council in a moment, but I don't. All I know is that anyone who speaks up for the lords and Council find their livestock plundered and their house ransacked, or worse."
I raised my hand. "Could we drop the Mission Impossible spy stuff and find out how we're going to get Erik out of this brick place?"
"Braille," Alwin corrected me.
I furrowed my brow. "Like that thing for blind people?"
He nodded. "Yes. It's called that because the cells are underground and in complete darkness. Not even our senses can pick up enough light to see without a lamp. The only way to move around is by feeling the walls, and there's only one entrance. A set of stone stairs that lead down to a door made of iron."
"So where is this Braille place?" I asked him.
He nodded out one of the windows. "On the far side of the town near the cliffs. It was put there so if someone did manage to escape they would have one less direction to flee
. However, in its three hundred years of existence no one has ever escaped the Braille. The walls are solid stone and when a prisoner is present the entrance is guarded by at least two people at any one time."
I jumped to my feet and threw up my arms. "So what you're telling me is this place is impossible to rescue somebody from?"
He bowed his head. "I'm afraid so."
"There may be a way," the soft voice of Alwin's wife spoke up. All eyes turned to her in surprise, most especially Alwin's.
"What way do you know?" he asked her.
"There is someone on the island who knows the caves and paths better than anyone, and who wouldn't find the darkness any trouble. He might be able to help," she explained.
"One of the fishermen?" Alwin guessed, but his wife shook her head.
"No, someone Lady Greenwood and I found several years ago. He called himself a relic of the past, so we gave him the name of Methuselah."
Alwin frowned. "I don't know this man. Who is he?"
"A vampire."
Greg and Alwin started back. I blinked at the wife. "Seriously? A vampire?" I asked her.
A small smile slipped onto her lips and she nodded. "Yes, seriously. Lady Greenwood and I found him on the rocks barely clinging to what little life that species holds. We took him to a cave and fed him-"
"Shannon!" Alwin gasped. Even Greg looked aghast.
I swung my head between the astonished gentlemen to the bemused lady. "Um, would somebody please tell me what's the problem here? Other than there being real vampires?"
"Vampires are our sworn enemies," Alwin explained. The tone of his voice spoke of a bitterness only centuries of animosity could create. "They feed off us to gain our strength and keep alive their unholy existence." His hard eyes didn't swerve from his wife. "How could you help one of them?"
"They're not my enemies. I came from the human world and can't hold such a grudge against them," she pointed out.
"But Eva! Don't you care for her?" he protested.
"Methuselah promised he wouldn't harm anyone. He has kept his promise and not revealed himself," she pointed out.
"But a vampire!" Alwin insisted.
Shannon smiled and clasped his hands in hers. "Do you trust me?"
His lips flapped for a while before he sputtered out a few words. "I-I do, but-"
"Then trust me on this. Methuselah wouldn't harm anyone, most especially anyone from our two families." She turned to Greg and me. "That's why I believe he'll help you. Speak Lady Greenwood's-Cassandra's-name and he will give you an audience. No one knows the caves better than Methuselah. If anyone can help you reach Greenwood without being noticed, it's him."
Greg bowed his head. "We're grateful for you in revealing this secret."
Shannon smiled and shook her head. "I would do much more to save my friend's son. Cassandra and I were-are great friends, and I wouldn't want a mother to lose her child."
"Where can we find him?" Greg asked her.
"The entrance to the cave systems under Market Island are near the cliffs. Eva can show you the way," she told us.
"Not Eva. I will take them," Alwin insisted.
Shannon squeezed her husband's hands. "You and I must convince the townspeople to release him. If they don't agree then we at least have given our friends here a distraction," she pointed out. Shannon leaned back and a sly grin slipped onto her lips. "Besides, Eva is as brave and resourceful as her father. She'll be fine."
Alwin pursed his lips, but sighed and gave a nod. "Your words are wise. Too wise, I think, but you're right." He looked to us. "We will try to convince the people to let young Greenwood go. I agree with my wife that I don't believe they'll release him. The feelings run high against anyone from Wolf Island, especially since the Guards became so overbearing."
"When did that start?" Greg asked him.
"About two months ago," Alwin revealed.
I furrowed my brow. "Two months? Isn't that when the shipment of dynamite went missing?"
Alwin nodded. "Yes, and like you I don't think there's a coincidence in the timing. There's an evil current beneath the islands. Something is happening, and I believe we're sorely unprepared for it."
Greg stood and bowed his head to our hosts. I followed his example. "Whatever happens we will always remember we have allies here."
Our hosts rose and smiled at us. "We're glad to be allies of the lords of Wolf Island," Alwin graciously replied.
"Say hello for me to Cassandra when you see her next," Shannon requested.
I grinned and saluted. "Will do."
"Now we'll skip any more farewells. You should be off," Shannon pointed out. She turned to her husband. "I'll fetch Eva."
"And I will prepare the cart," Alwin added. He looked to us and nodded towards the entrance hall. "Follow me and I'll point the way to where you're going."
Our kind host led us outside and over to the barn. The doors were shut, but he opened them and nodded through the structure. "The path leads from the other end of the barn through the fields to the cliffs. It's a rocky place, but not much worse than some parts of Wolf Island."
"Yeah, we know about those," I quipped.
"There are a mess of caves ten yards above where the water crashes against the rocks. If she hasn't already, Shannon will tell Eva which one to take that leads to that abomination." He paused and turned to us with a steady, fixed gaze. "I must ask that you not let Eva into the caves. My wife might trust this monster and I trust that she believes in him, but I can't put any faith in-well, in other things. I've seen too much of what they can do to werewolves."
I cringed. "And what exactly can they do?"
Alwin frowned. "They can drain a werewolf of all his blood within a minute. It's a delicacy for them. They crave the power that runs through us. If they had a choice between an easy target of a human and a tough werewolf, they would choose the werewolf every time."
"Comforting. . ." I mumbled.
"We will be careful, and Eva won't accompany us any farther than the cave entrance," Greg promised.
Alwin nodded. "That's all I ask. Oh, and you may leave your bag of provisions here. They'll only get in the way." He glanced past us at the house. "Here they come."
We turned and saw Eva and Shannon exit the house and hurry over to us. Eva was dressed in a dark cloak that was the color of the rocks. Two other cloaks like it were slung over Shannon's arm. She presented them to us.
"To help protect you from the berries," she told us with a wink.
We put them on and Eva grabbed one of Greg and my hands. She smiled and pulled us through the barn. "This way. It isn't far."
CHAPTER 7
Eva led us through the barn and out into the open field that lay beyond the building. The time of day was now afternoon and storm clouds on the horizon threatened to ruin what remained of the day. A faint mist helped to cover us from prying eyes, and our new cloaks finished our camouflage. Eva wasn't very tall and she had a tight grip on our hands, so we were forced to stoop. The tall grass of the field therefore covered anything else of us that remained to be seen.
The field was a hundred yards across, and the perimeter was fenced with an old wooden fence. We reached the far end. Eva ducked under and we climbed over. The grass from the pasture grew ten yards farther until it hit the rocky bareness that made up most of the perimeters of the islands. Scraggly trees grew up from beneath boulders and brush tried their hardest to cover a trail that led through the rocks. It was an old trail, judging by the smoothed stones where feet had long-trodden, and wound its way leisurely down a slope to the aforementioned cliffs. Far off came the sound of waves crashing violently against rocks.
Eva skipped down the path as spry as a mountain goat and we hurried after her. The path stretched for another forty yards before we came to the edge of nothing. The ground came to an abrupt end at the edge of the rocks and we now had a clear view of the crashing waves. The lake sat twenty yards below us. A harsh wind blew the water against the rocks and created s
wells and pools among the many stones. Unlike Wolf Island, there was no flat spot to the cave entrance. There was only a narrow, jumbled mess of boulders and stones beneath the cliffs. The gap between life and death was maybe five yards.
I leaned forward and caught a glimpse of some dark depressions in the cliff wall below us. Those must have been the cave entrances.
Eva waved to us from the edge of the cliff to our left. "This way." She hopped off the side of the rock and disappeared from view.
"Oh shit!" I yelped.
Greg and I hurried forward, but we were only halfway to the rescue when Eva popped her head up over the edge of the ground. She had a wide, devilish grin on her face.
"I've always wanted to do that to someone," she admitted.
I clutched my heart and glared at her. "Don't try it on someone with a weak heart or you'll end up in the Braille," I warned her.
She giggled. "We're almost there." She ducked down out of sight.
Greg and I walked over to the edge and saw she'd stood on a flat rock four feet below the edge of the cliff. The flat rock was the beginning of a series of rock steps that led down to the boulders and water below. Our guide was halfway down the steps and she waved to us. We hopped down and slowly followed her. The steep steps were slick from the moist air and one false move would find us a flat decoration on the large rocks below us.
The steps wound around to the front of the cliff on which we just stood. The last dozen steps gave us a good look of the cliff wall and I saw my assumption was correct. The dark depressions were cave entrances, and I could see why we'd need Eva's hand to point the way. There were a dozen cave entrances, all different sizes and angles. Some seemed to lead back up to the cliff, and others pointed down to the bowels of the island.
Eva led us to one that was of medium size with a straight direction into the cliff. It would be an easy stoop for us adults. Then she pointed up.
"That's the one you need."
I followed her finger and saw she pointed to another cave entrance ten yards above us. The mouth was only four feet tall and three feet wide.