by Jan Delima
Pendaran stood by the gatehouse on the opposite side of her bridge, with seven men forming a procession of warriors who had come to feast on her, four of whom she recognized as Council members even from a distance.
She bloody well didn’t care who the final three were because none of them would be inside of her.
Unfortunately, her vow weakened as more Guardians arrived and the rain cleared to reveal summer’s first moon. Was she selfish to put so many lives in danger for her cause? Fisting her hands by her sides, she chased her weak thoughts away. This stance was about freedom, and the right to live without cruelty.
Even so, tension filled the air, heavy with the pungent odor of adrenaline and power and the musk of rising wolves. Her battle-worn warriors were ready to fight. As a precaution, Luc had requested more guards from their allies. They circled the castle and the lifeless woods. Even her people had stayed, willing to risk death rather than lose their first taste of freedom, or run and leave her to fight this final battle alone.
She loved them for it, even as she feared the consequences.
Luc, Porter and eight guards walked the wall beside her, while the rest filled the yard and held their assignments at the base of the bridge. There was no sign of Gareth or Teyrnon, or the four guards positioned at the gatehouse and the shallow end of the river.
“Rigged that damn bridge with explosives, I should have,” Porter muttered. “But I figured fire and torn limbs would only be pissing them off.” His gaze was feral and ready for conflict. “It would’ve done my soul some good to watch that bastard fly.”
“He’s waiting for me to come to him,” Rosa said with rancor.
“We only need to hold the Guardians for another hour,” Luc clipped. “Dylan and Llara’s army are on their way.”
Pendaran laughed as if he’d heard, the resonance amplified on the wind. His cloak billowed about his parted stance, catching on his staff as he lifted it to the sky. A blue light glowed from the crown of the twisted vines.
“What is he doing?” The question had come from Griffith, one of the guards from Isabeau’s territory.
“I don’t know—” But even as she spoke Rosa buckled against the wall. A sharp pain gripped her abdomen and a yearning called her to go to him, incessant and undeniable. “I . . .” She gritted her teeth. “I think he’s pulling me somehow.”
“What?” Luc hovered, his voice thick with anger and sudden apprehension. He wrapped his arms around her, firm and strong, anchoring her.
She bit back a moan and clawed at the rock wall, blinded by the pain of resisting a summons.
“Dark magic,” Porter spat. “Pilfered pieces of his soul to the evil one, he has. Casting a spell. No good will come of this.”
“Call the forest, Rosa,” Luc ordered. “Now!”
“I cannot,” she hissed, squeezing her eyes against the assault. “Not on this side of the river. My forest is dead. There’s nothing to call.”
“Fight this,” he demanded. “Do not allow this asshole to take you from me. Do you understand?”
She coughed. A choking laugh fell through her tension. “I’m trying not to.”
A disruption below drew Luc out of her arms, and without his support she took a step toward Pendaran. With her submission, the pain eased enough to view the cause of the distraction. Cadan and Tesni tussled on the ground with a tiny brown wolf.
“They are trying to hold Audrey back,” Rosa ground out through clenched teeth. And they were taking a brutal beating while struggling not to hurt the child.
“Marked the Wulfling, the bastard’s done.” Disgust filled Porter’s voice.
“Shit,” Luc muttered when Elen walked into the outer bailey as if in a trance. “Pendaran is summoning all powerful females.” A possibility he hadn’t prepared for, and his anger spread to the guards.
Another guard swore behind them. “Like a perverted piper, he lures children and women from their homes.”
Shouting incoherent sounds, Cormack lunged from the castle and dove on top of Elen. A wild cry filled the air, muddled between human and wolf as he buckled into a shift so violent he collapsed into a ball, stunned. Elen wiped at her face as if blinded by tears but kept walking.
“No,” Rosa corrected. “He’s beckoning all unmated females with power. He wants me, but is getting more than he assumed were here.”
A tic pulsed against the muscle of Luc’s jaw as he clenched his teeth but he didn’t refute her theory.
Another screech echoed through the yard as Audrey broke free of Cadan’s hold, tumbled several paces out of reach, limped from her fall and then took off toward the bridge.
Tesni stumbled after Audrey, bloodied down her arms and holding her neck. She looked up and found Rosa, her gaze desperate and beseeching as she screamed for help. “We cannot stop her without hurting her!”
Cormack struggled to his feet in wolf form but with the same dilemma as he tugged at Elen’s skirt, locking his haunches until the material tore. More guards dove to help Cormack only to meet a shift just as brutal. Canine cries echoed throughout the bailey and carried to the wall. Cormack suffered another ruthless shift, twitching naked on the ground as currents racked his body.
“I’m going down.” Rosa turned from the parapets. “She’ll take out our entire guard this way and I cannot let Pendaran have Audrey or your sister.”
“You stay here!” Luc shouted. “I’ll go down. Pendaran will only pull you with them.”
“No,” she cried. “They’ll be taken in my place. I could never live with myself if I don’t act to help them. Never. And the pull doesn’t seem to be affecting me as badly as them. I can resist him,” she promised. “I will resist him.”
His lips pressed in a thin line, reading her conviction. “You’d better,” he commanded, displeased but not arguing with her resolve. “You get Audrey. I’ll try to stop Elen. She may listen to me.”
Accepting the logic of his order, she ran down the circular stone stairs, through her bailey and across the yard to where Audrey fought Cadan’s hold. Rosa fell to her knees and grabbed the pup by the scruff of the neck, issuing a low rumble of displeasure, hoping the Wulfling would comprehend her alpha’s command over Pendaran’s.
Audrey stilled and dropped the hunk of Cadan’s side from her jaw. Rosa gathered the pup in her arms and turned toward the forest. The bridge could be seen through the trail at this distance. Another wave of the dark summons almost pulled her, but as she’d begun to suspect, it didn’t affect her as much as Elen and Audrey.
Rosa wasn’t mated, she knew she wasn’t, but perhaps what had begun between her and Luc lessened Pendaran’s influence.
A mere fledgling to such power, Audrey began to wiggle violently and then lunged, forcing Rosa to ease her hold or break the Wulfling’s legs. With the extra leverage, Audrey clawed Rosa’s neck and chest and twisted to the ground.
The tumble and chase brought them to the river’s edge. Frantic, Rosa dove and rolled with the Wulfling before she crossed the bridge, grasping the pup’s forearms in a death grip as she stood.
If necessary, she would break her legs with her hold rather than let her cross that bridge.
Elen remained on Avon’s side, her face wet with tears as she fought not to step off the island. Luc hovered over her, cradling her in a tight hold, talking low near his sister’s ear. Ordered not to touch, the guards formed a protective circle around the pair.
Luc’s gaze found Rosa’s and held with stark warning. “The compulsion is affecting Elen most. I don’t know how much longer I can contain her.”
Rosa lifted her chin to Pendaran’s satisfied smirk. He had a look of a well-fed cat who had caught three mice in one trap.
Pendaran raised his voice in greeting. “Rosa.” William and Rhys stood by his side with triumphant expressions, feeding off her struggle like parasites. “So glad you could finally join us.
Who is that lovely creature you have in your arms? Even from here I can feel her power.”
Rosa tightened her grip on Audrey’s legs as they began to twitch at his voice. Since the secret of her nature was out, William should face the weight of his actions.
Her lips turned in a slow smile. Tilting her head, feigning curiosity, she yelled over the rushing waters, “Did William not tell you of the Wulfling? First Taliesin and now William. Does anyone communicate with you, Pendaran?” The head of the Council stilled and her smile widened. “William was hiding her for at least three months. How could you not know of this? Her name is Audrey. She’s mine now, by the way.”
“This is your Hen Was?” Pendaran turned to William, his face florid with rage, and for a moment the spell he cast eased. Audrey relaxed in her arms and released a whimper, trying to crawl up into Rosa’s neck and hide.
The roar of her river swallowed their voices and Rosa started easing backward. Heads turned on the opposite side as the conversation was retold and spread down the lines. There was dissension in this mix of Guardians who had been called. Some leered with the hunger for blood in their eyes—but some watched with disgust.
“I was training her for the Council.” William sputtered excuses loud enough to carry.
“Save your lies!” Pendaran’s nostrils flared. “I can taste your fear. You intended to hoard this child until she came of age.” Heat burst through the air and sizzled when it hit the river. “You are a traitor to the Council and belong with the other traitors.”
Eyes mad with panic, William took a step back. He darted desperate glances as Guardians flanked him, halting a retreat.
“Hang him with the others until I decide his fate,” Pendaran ordered. “I do not tolerate lies,” he spat. “Especially from those I keep company with.”
Rosa’s eyes followed the macabre procession of William being carried to the outer woods. He didn’t fight, accepting a lesser punishment rather than an immediate execution.
But as their final destination came into focus and her mind registered what she saw—a gasp tore from her throat and her lungs refused to draw air.
Luc’s gaze must have tracked the same route. A low growl erupted from his chest in an ominous tenure. “Is that Gareth?”
“And Teyrnon,” Rosa choked out. And the other missing Avon guards.
“He will die for this,” Luc vowed, his voice thick from his beast, echoed by the guards in their midst.
Hung by their necks, Avon’s loyal guards dangled from trees, red as skinned game and coated in their own blood. Even to this day a noose was the Guardians’ most efficient disabler, and the ones made for their kind were constructed with wire and razor edges. If the quarry shifted, it tightened. If they struggled, it tightened. And increased weight sent the sharpened wire edges through their necks like a garrote.
They must remain completely still if they wished to keep their heads.
A hush weaved throughout the crowd, but death only bolstered death, and Rosa clung to Audrey with dismay as the musk of anticipation mounted. A protective impulse raged within her, a blinding fury for this child and for her people. But the child was an innocent and must be brought to safety first before she could help the others.
Acting on instinct, Rosa assessed her possibilities. Avon’s guards and allies had emerged from the forest. Luc had Elen locked in his embrace. He shook his head, letting her know his sister was unmovable.
Audrey. She mouthed her intent, then turned toward the trail and ran. Cadan was there at the end making his way to her, more bloodied than Tesni and missing an ear. His red hair was caked and matted to his head.
“Take her while Pendaran is distracted,” she ordered, handing off the Wulfling. “Lock her in a bathroom if you must, but don’t let her out until this is over.” She didn’t tell her cousin about Gareth and Teyrnon, because there was nothing he could do and she needed him focused for this task.
Nodding, Cadan clutched the child and finished the retreat. Rosa waited until he disappeared into the outer bailey.
Calm clarity washed over her once the child was safe. She stood on the trail of her broken forest and lifted her arms, calling its power. Trees that barely budded each year wept their only leaves.
It tried . . . Oh, how it tried to give its very last breath but offered no more than a meager cough while limbs broke like skeletons in a storm.
Desperate, Rosa reached out to another source on her island, one she had never dared breach. Trusting Elen’s knowledge that Avon was overfed, there was only one place that might be the root. She sent tendrils of inquiry toward the tombs of the Walkers, probing with open invitation.
They answered with a force that buckled Rosa to her knees—jubilant, as if they had been waiting three centuries for this day. Never had she felt such a response from them. They flooded her with pent-up frustrations, with laughter and hope, death and tears, ready to be used in any capacity other than nothingness.
Life filled her very essence, dark and light. She channeled it, savored it—allowed it to bleed from her skin. Dirt and rock scraped her palms as she crawled to a standing position. With careful strides, she returned to stand in the circle of guards who surrounded Luc and Elen.
“What have you done?” Luc’s narrowed gaze flared blue.
“Walkers,” was all she could manage because they began to overwhelm her. She wasn’t Elen; she couldn’t give away the power she received. Her wolf paced and the shift was almost on her.
With that dangerous thought, the culmination of an intuition that had formed when she called the Walkers, she regarded Elen in hopes of finalizing her idea.
“No,” Luc said, reading her intent.
“Let her decide.” Rosa held out her hand to his sister.
Elen’s gaze fell to the offering, rimmed red and heavy-lidded with anguish. “Are you sure?” she croaked out on broken breaths. “I might hurt you.”
“I’m sure. Show the Guardians that it’s us they need to fear. Show them that our family cannot be intimidated. Let us try to prevent this war. Can you do that?”
Concentration tightened Elen’s face, not so gentle in that moment. “Oh, yes . . . I can do that.” Without hesitation, she snagged Rosa’s hand and Luc was repelled when the connection formed.
And time stilled.
Or perhaps becoming a conduit to otherworldly control cooked Rosa’s brain. She ground her teeth as currents traveled through her body. Elen fed, and fed, and the island began to breathe life. Sepia tones and starved dust became emerald greens and lush earth.
Rosa felt the Walkers sigh with relief as the pressure evened out, like a boiler releasing steam. Vines burst from the ground. Moss formed like a carpet around Elen and rolled out to the river’s edge. Guards hedged away from the engulfing stream.
But Rosa accepted it. And in doing so, the earth at her feet wasn’t the only thing that healed. She felt the familiar tugging on her female organs, similar to the time in Elen’s cottage, only more forceful. Her abdomen cramped, twisted, and then eased. She also felt another urge and knew in that moment she was fertile.
Under summer’s first moon.
Guardians began to recede, wary of the unknown, and a realization that the rumors they had heard were true. They feared losing their power more than combat or death.
Pendaran watched with curiosity—not concern.
One Guardian, bloodthirsty and too primed to retreat, sent out a battle cry and charged the river. Others followed, as was the frenzy that fed all wars. Even her guards responded. Some fell into the rushing waters; some waited with weapons raised. The clash of swords filled her ears, and the scent of iron cloyed her throat, becoming thicker as Guardians made the cross to this side.
In dismay, Rosa pointed to Pendaran. “You,” she shouted over the hysteria and dismemberment, daring him as much as beseeching him. “This is your doing. Stop it if
you have the bullocks.”
His eyebrow rose at the challenge, and his lips quirked as if charmed, but he didn’t raise a single sound of protest.
Instead, Pendaran stepped onto the bridge. And Luc waited for him on the opposite side with a handful of warriors, sword unsheathed, lips peeled, and chin lowered.
Pendaran stared hard at the barricade with irritation. “It is time for you to die, Beast.”
It was then that a figure in a red cloak broke away from the Guardians. She made her way toward Pendaran on the bridge. Her hood caught in the wind and fell back as golden hair twisted in wild disarray from the river’s tumult.
Pendaran frowned at Merin’s approach. “I did not call you.”
“There was a time I admired you, Pendaran.” Sadness carried with Merin’s voice. “You once knew honor but now you are seduced by darkness. You rape all that is good about our kind.” A slight pivot into a dancer’s stance was her only warning before twisting in an arc. Her red cloak flared like a cardinal in flight descending for the kill. “This is a wretched day but perhaps a new beginning.”
His eyes widened as her sword descended. Snaking backward at inhuman speed, he barely avoided the blow. And Merin’s arm circled wide as she missed her mark with a snarl.
Pendaran shook with rage. “How many traitors will fall from my Council today?” Swinging his staff in an arc, he unsheathed his weapon; they circled each other like two birds of prey in a waltz of death.
Luc lunged toward the bridge to help his mother. Blood flowed from a long gash down his sword arm and coated his fist. More Guardians reached the shore through the turbulent waters, and with brutal control he fended them off.
But a fourth Guardian emerged and Rosa knew this one all too well. Features rabid with vengeance, Briog dragged a sword from the river’s edge, rose with a savage scream and charged Luc’s back.
Riding the Walkers’ power, Rosa pried her hand out of Elen’s grasp, unsheathed her sword and countered Briog’s attack with a rush of heightened strength. The Guardian rode his own adrenaline and swung with crazed frenzy. She fell back but not in time to miss a thrust to her side. Luc pivoted when he heard her cry out, shouted for her to duck, and removed Briog’s head in a swift circular strike.