by Sam Hall
“Why am I getting a ‘bite the apple, my pretty’ vibe from this?” I said.
The guys walked over and sniffed at the meals, poking through them.
“We need supplies. We lost everything when the Uldariel took the cars,” Aaron said.
“But not these. There’s carrots and other vegetables in the plots in the farms. Let’s go,” Sylvan said.
The guys looked at me, then him as he strode over to the steps that led down to the cells.
I took Finn’s hand as we descended. Not many people would have seen it, but despite the fact that his back was ramrod straight—or perhaps because it was—I could see the tension that was there. We strode into the cells, pausing for a second to check the staff had indeed gone down for the vigil. They had, as the place was empty but for the prisoners. We handed out keys so we could get everyone out as quickly as possible, but when Finn reached for a pair, I took them from him.
“I’ll open it, you stay with your dads.”
“But what if—”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “We’re getting out of this fucking place, getting as far away as we can, and we’re taking our people back. We’ll go to Sanctuary and develop a plan, but right now, you need some time with your dads.”
He blinked, his head dropping down for a moment before he gave me a short nod. I watched him walk down the row, then tossed keys to everyone.
“Moonie!” Johnno said, fighting to keep upright as his hands wrapped around the cell bars. Along with the shoulder injury he’d gotten from the stampede was a long gash down his leg. Smithy, one of the other soldiers, moved in to help him stay upright. “We’re getting out now, right? Tell me we’re getting out.”
The creases in the man’s face were caked in grime, almost underlining and enhancing them. It made every expression, the attempt at a joke and the flat failure of it, all the more apparent. Aaron opened the door of the cell, and his men inside just looked at it for a moment before belatedly getting to their feet and inching out. They’d only been here a few days. I looked down the cells, saw the men pacing or collapsed in the corners of them, then felt the crystal pulse in my pocket. I reached out and took Johnno’s hand. Unbidden, those green tendrils I’d seen in the darkness flared inside my mind, overlaying the gritty reality, obscuring it, then transforming it.
“Fuck,” one of the guys said, looking at Johnno in surprise. He stood straighter, rolling his neck and flexing his arms, then looked down at the healed gash on his leg.
“Thanks, Julie,” he said. “Now load us up with what weapons you’ve got, because we’re getting out of here.”
“We have a pitstop to make,” Aaron said. He met the quizzical looks of his men head on. “We’re releasing the women. They can come with us if they want.”
“Those bitches?” said one of the blokes in the nearby cells. “You’re telling me we’re spending precious fucking time rescuing them? No, no fucking way.”
“So, don’t,” Slade said. “The side gate’s open. There’s no one around, they’re all under the ground in the cavern. You wanna go? Go.”
“You gonna give us a gun?”
“No. We’ve got a mission to fulfil, and we’re going to need every one. They’re coming, the Volken. They’re going to swarm through here, through the surrounding land, and hunt down whatever they can find. You want a head start? Take it.”
The guy looked at the other bloke in the cell, and said, “Whaddya reckon, Ron? We can’t go back to Sanctuary.”
“Let’s bolt,” his cell mate said. “Whatever hero trip you’re on, I want no part in it. I just want out.”
The rest of the cells were much the same—the men either eager to be armed and help, or ready to leave the moment the doors were opened. We unlocked, healed, and dispensed weapons until they were all out. I looked around the dank room, feeling a sense of satisfaction for a moment that this was over, that there were no more of our people locked up. Then I felt the rumble below us. That seemed to mobilise everyone. The guys who were running, ran, and those who were staying, clustered around us.
“Jules!”
My head jerked up to see Finn was waving me over. We moved down the cells to his dads’ one, and I dropped to the ground.
“He was looking so much better,” I said, taking in the weakened body of Rhydian.
“He knows…” Grey muttered, pacing back and forth. “He knows, he knows, he knows.”
“Who knows, Dad?” Finn asked, the fear seeping into his voice.
“Max. Max, Max, Max. Always Max.”
“The crystal? Can it help him, them?” Finn asked.
I remembered the dream, where I’d waved my hand and people were healed, both mentally and physically, but as I looked at the small stone right now, I wondered. I shook my head as I felt the weight of Finn’s gaze on my cheek, and then reached out to Grey.
I now knew where Max was. That was the flaw in our plan, how we’d get him out. We’d hoped he’d have been left in Lian’s quarters, but that wasn’t the case. Grey was tapped into his bond with Max and saw what he saw—the great cavern of Lonan.
There’d been some dispute about whether Sylvan was telling us the truth about all this. I could now confirm his stories were correct. I saw back after black leather back, bared to the Great Wolf as he stood, partially hidden by the gloom within the cavern, his eyes burning like a low banked fire. He regarded the lot of them but did not move a millimetre. We were. My POV bounced as I piggybacked on Max’s field of vision. He glanced down at his hands bound by manacles and chains as he was drawn along the broad pathway left clear leading up to the Wolf.
“Not far, my love,” Lian said, his smile as sweet as a child. He looked ecstatic about what was about to come, like he couldn’t contain his excitement. “Soon…” Lian’s words trailed away as his eyes slipped down to where our collarbone would have been. As if summoned by his regard, I felt it, the trickle of blood, the ache where Lian’s venom had seeped into the marks left by his fangs.
“M’lord, I’ve brought the women as requested.”
It was weird to see a Volken not laid out on the floor, just standing there and whispering to Lian like a kid passing notes in class, but by the looks he was shooting the all-powerful Wolf God, it made sense.
“We’re having difficulties keeping them quiet though, sir. They somehow know their fate.”
Lian scoffed at that, the noise ringing out throughout the cavern. The Volken stared at his lordship, completely aghast, then dropped to his belly when the Black Wolf shifted, the cave shaking as he did so. Lian shook his head and stepped over the man, mostly. He dragged Max forward, trampling on the man’s fingers as they passed, but he didn’t make a sound.
“We need to get down there,” Rhydian said, lifting his head from the stone floor.
“In the caverns?” one of the men said. “You can’t be fucking serious! That’s where that bastard Great Wolf of theirs lurks. Letting some women out of their cages, I could get behind. Poor bloody things don’t want to be there anymore than we do. But facing down that bastard?”
Aaron settled down beside me, taking my hand in his.
“Can you heal them?” he said, nodding to Finn’s dads.
“I’m going down there. I’m not leaving Max to those fuckers! He’s just as likely to gut Dad and then play with the entrails as his god looks on,” Finn said.
“I know, mate,” Aaron said. “We all know.”
“Impending doom it is, then,” Jack said with a nod. He put a hand on Hawk’s shoulder, which was immediately covered by his mate’s.
“I think so,” I said belatedly, crawling over to take Rhydian’s hand.
It didn’t make sense, that Rhydian was in such a bad way again, but the crystal flared bright when I touched him, and I saw the ragged breaths slow and even out. His muscles relaxed, and finally, he rolled slowly into a seated position. His face still looked drawn, but he could look into each of our eyes now.
“You need to go. Get the hell
out of here. Max wouldn’t want you throwing your and your pack’s life away for him. Go with these men, get as far away as possible. Tell Grace she’s free, help her move on with her life.”
“And the women they’ve taken down into the cavern?” Finn said. “How do they move on with their lives?”
“They don’t,” Rhydian said. “You’re not a kid anymore. You as much as anyone know that it doesn’t always work out for everyone. There isn’t always a happy ever after. Sometimes, there’s only an ending.” He took Finn’s hand, both of them watching Grey pace back and forth. “Thanks for coming, son. I can walk down into that place, proud to have seen the man you’ve become. You’ve got a pack now, a mate. You need to go back, to protect Sanctuary, to become the leader you were supposed to be. Keep it safe. Keep Gracie safe.”
The man’s hazel eyes filled at that, the thin lines of his face growing sharper as they spelled out the pain inside more clearly than words. Neither let each other go, though Rhydian urged us to, as the timer on this mission slowly ran out. How could they? The minute they broke contact, it would be over. Finn would be signing his fathers’ death warrants as they went to reform their pack one last time before disappearing down the Great Wolf’s gullet.
From death comes regrowth.
The words, an overture from the Great White Wolf, a memory, or an aside from my own Tirian, I didn’t know or care. I rejected the idea with everything I had. Lonan wasn’t death or regrowth, he was the complete negation of existence. Nothing of Finn’s dads would remain but our memories. He would take all they were and then blow them out, like the flames of candles.
I took Finn’s hand when the sobs began to wrack him. He cried like a much-beaten child, silently and without tears, the power of what he was feeling betrayed only by his body. Through the bond, I could feel it. He tried to throw himself over the pain, smothering the bomb blast of what he had to bear. My fingers bit into his as they came, as Rhydian moved to take his son into his arms, thin biceps wrapping around the ribcage of his child, holding him firm as the tears finally broke through.
Grey stopped pacing, paused, and regarded Finn as if he’d only seen him for the first time.
“Finn?” he said, creeping closer, then dropping to his knees, his hands going to his slack mouth. “Finn boy?”
“Yes, love,” Rhydian said. “It’s our son.”
“Look at him! The spit of Max. I almost tricked myself into thinking it was him.” Grey’s hand went out haltingly to the bite mark on Finn’s neck. “You found her, the bright one. Good, good. She’ll hold you in her heart when the pain comes, like Gracie did me.”
“Dad…” Finn couldn’t get any more words out, throwing his other arm around Grey’s shoulder and pulling him down beside him.
Slade reached out for me as they drew in close. I jumped at the touch, but soon relaxed when he held me against his chest. It hurt to watch, but it must have been agony to experience. My mind wouldn’t accept it—for us to have come all this way, and to what? Not bring the dads back? To let them walk into the wolf’s den alone? Rhydian’s words about happy endings stuck in my throat, and I was unable to swallow them down.
“Get your guys to take the rest of them out,” he whispered to Aaron. “Get a head start. We’ll be along soon.”
Aaron nodded and then turned to the soldiers who remained, giving them quiet, terse orders. When they were long gone, a curious quiet settled over the cells, and not an entirely peaceful one by the time Finn pulled away. He wiped his tears and then helped his fathers to their feet, Grey holding onto Rhydian like that would help him retain his lucidity. And it appeared to work, making me wonder about their relationship. But they walked out of the cell under their own steam, something that had them looking around in wonder.
“He’s getting restless,” Sylvan said as the earth rumbled underneath us. “You should go.”
“We should have a few hours yet,” Aaron said.
“Fairly sure he operates on his own timetable,” the seer replied through gritted teeth. His hand strayed to the red crystal at his neck. It was pulsing now. “You want a chance to get back home. Go, now.”
“And what about you?” I said.
“This was always the end of the line for me, though I hadn’t seen it that way until now.” Sylvan’s eyes went to Finn’s fathers and held out his arm. “I can take you to the cavern, to Max.”
As we walked up the stairs and back into the kitchen, every single feeling of satisfaction was stripped from me. I was glad to see the room was empty, that despite the regular rumbles below us, no Volken rampaged around us. But the empty rooms, the empty city seemed to reflect how I felt inside. Little Kiralee, those obstinate green eyes staring us down, her will pulsing. Arelia, Jeananne, even Kerin didn’t deserve this.
Why? my mind cried, over and over. Why did we come all this way? Why didn’t we find a way to save them? Why do we slink back home and lick our wounds?
From death comes regrowth.
It was both the Great Wolf and my Tirian who spoke the words now, and when I looked around, I saw all the guys freezing as they obviously heard the same.
Fuck this! I snapped back. Fuck your sayings and your visions! Fuck this bullshit quest! The oh so pretty spiritual crap every time we have sex. Fuck all the Great Wolves, meddling in people’s lives, letting poisonous paranormal wolf Nazis set up shop and leech off the power of one of you for world domination. Fuck death! Fuck regrowth! Either provide me with a useful fucking solution to all of this, where kids and tired old men aren’t sacrificed to dark gods for no fucking reason other than to soup up the already horrendous Volken, or shut the fuck up.
Very well.
All awareness of the guys, the kitchen, the world dropped away in return for this. My view of Leifgart expanded exponentially, with a multitude of views of the cavern, the outer ring, the fields, the houses, the kitchens all competing for attention. I saw Rhydian and Grey reaching Max, their arms going around each other as Max’s eyes grew troubled, Lian looking on in amusement. I saw them all chained together, the women and children. I saw their sons and brothers watching from the front rows where they lay on the stone as the women were dragged closer to the Great Wolf. And then there was the Great Wolf himself, shivering and separating, the Black Wolf sitting and watching as he always had, but not so with Lonan. The blue eyes, the long black hair was all too familiar, as he stood facing Sylvan, a smirk on his face.
From death comes regrowth, the White Wolf insisted, and then I saw it, what she meant. It’d sounded like some kind of Hakuna Matata, circle of life bullshit, where the bunny that’s crunched between the wolf’s teeth goes on to fertilise the grass that the other bunnies eat, and maybe on some level it was. I looked at the Black Wolf, seeing something altogether different to Lonan. He was death and decay and entropy and endings, but that wasn’t necessarily a sadistic thing. I looked into the eyes of Lonan, and it was there I could see where it’d come from. He’d caused thousands upon thousands of deaths indiscriminately, I saw flickers of them all as they passed into him, strengthening him, shoring up the wounded animal that had limped through the portal in the ruins. Until now.
I remembered Branwen standing beside the first Tirian women, the ones that created Sanctuary. From the little I saw of her, I hadn’t felt she was especially altruistic, so why had she done this? And then I saw how it was all going to work. The Black Wolf I’d seen so often raced along the landscape, his paws effortlessly swallowing the ground as he strode forward, going on and on, until he leapt. The world exploded when he bit the black sun, and then there he was. He’d used all that newly regained power to punch a hole through the dimensions, landing on the gate that kept the portal secure and crushing it with little effort. Same with cars and buildings, the mess was smashed under one paw, then another, as people still screamed, trying to get out. The asphalt buckled under his feet as he faced down Kelly and Ophelia, pausing only for a second as they conjured balls of light before he swallowed them down. Because wit
h each of his conquests, he took their power as well as their lives, stripping the White Wolf of hers. This was the wolf that ate the world, and he consumed all I’d come to love, only coming to a stop when the tiniest pile of rubble remained. Then he summoned it, the portal to Wolflantis, and leaped through. Striding across the shattered stones and leaping over damaged buildings, he moved across the desolate landscape until he came to her. Trapped inside what had been the most elaborate of buildings, there she lay, broken, battered and half mad from the isolation—Branwen.
The world was shaking by the time reality returned, the lot of us just staring at the stone bricks that made up the walls of the kitchen for some time, not even having the wit to hang on to the table as the vibrations shook through us.
Until Brandon’s hand shot out to take mine.
“We’re the death. We’re the regrowth,” he said, shaking his head, as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying, let alone convince me of it. “That’s what this whole thing has been, why we’re here. We’re the White Wolf’s pack.”
I wanted to deny it, Slade and Jack too by the looks on their faces, their mouths opening to say the words. Then Hawk pointed.
We followed his finger, and there, floating in the centre of the kitchen and illuminating every score or burn on the workbench, was a massive ball of white light. Looking at it seemed to stir it, and it suddenly flared brighter, then rushed into the lot of us.
When I looked at my hands, I could see the bones, the veins, the blood pulsing through them. I looked like I’d swallowed a nuclear explosion, and I felt like it too. Every single one of us, my pack or not, was the same. Our hair lifted, floating airily around our skulls as the power pulsed inside us.
Now it's time, the White Wolf said, and we all heard it. You will be my conduit in this world.
“This way,” I said, and gestured for everyone to follow me, not waiting to see if they did. I walked out through the servery then shoved the doors to the banquet hall open, every single red crystal pulsing with a dull light as we strode inside. I pulled out the green one I had in my pocket, a tiny little shard in my hand, so puny compared to the sullen masses here.