The Wolf Lord (Ars Numina Book 3)

by Ann Aguirre

  “I will.” Raff was surprised to find that he meant it.

  5.

  Seven reports, no good news.

  All three houses had forces in the field, trying to discern Thalia’s true strength. After what her father had done at Ash Valley, none of the great families wanted to ally with her in case she turned out to be a traitor as well. Add in the grandiose ambitions of small minds that saw this conflict as a chance to rise to power and the situation became untenable.

  With a snap, she closed the final dossier and rose, popping her neck and shoulders. She only had that freedom because she was alone; Lileth would have chided her for revealing the vulnerability. It seemed like a hundred years since she’d slept soundly, more than a few hours at a time, but it was probably only ten.

  Only.

  The strategy room smelled faintly of smoke, as the chimney hadn’t been cleaned in who knew how long. On schedule, the knock sounded at the heavy door that guarded her privacy, and then her aide stepped into the room.

  “Are you ready?” Lil asked.

  Thalia inclined her head. “As I shall be. Did you bring my armor and weapons?”

  “You mean to participate fully?” Such a frosty, disapproving tone could only mean that Lileth thought she should supervise.

  “Of course. I hope a few of the soldiers will as well, though I don’t intend to order it.”

  Lileth let it go without commenting, escorting her from the strategy room to the half-ruined storage that had been converted to stables when they first arrived. “You should know there’s dissent in the ranks. A few diehard purists would rather see everything burn than walk the path you’ve chosen.”

  Her mouth tightened. “They can burn without me. If we must be…harsh to set an example, so be it. I will have no talk of pure bloodlines or racial superiority.”

  “Understood.” By the gravity of her expression, Lileth did grasp that Thalia was willing to execute her own if she must; she was that committed to this course.

  “Have the vedda beasts been saddled?” Thalia asked.

  “Your steed awaits.”

  Her steed was a majestic white creature with two polished horns jutting from a proud forehead. The creatures were stocky and mountain-bred, surefooted even on the most dangerous slopes, and a shaggy coat meant the animal stayed warm all winter long, shedding in the spring. They were also stubborn and cantankerous, not a mount for the faint of heart.

  Today, she armed up only with throwing knives, eschewing the lightning bracers she preferred for actual combat. Though Thalia knew she was at risk every moment of the day, this outing should be a negligible risk since patrolling Noxblades kept the area around Daruvar clear. We won’t range far enough for it to be dangerous.

  With Lileth’s help, she fastened her armor and hurried to meet the rest of the party. It was no surprise to find Gavriel, Tirael, and Ferith waiting, the three Noxblades who had survived the hard-won Battle of Hallowell. Soon, he would need to accept the promotion she’d offered—Shadow Hand—which was equivalent to spymaster and head of the Noxblades. He also needed to recruit more young ones for training to fill out their depleted ranks, but she’d learned not to push him. Gavriel was more oak than willow and too much pressure would break him. In all these years, the fool had never learned to bend.

  Tirael bowed quickly, not meeting her eyes. There was something odd about the woman, a flicker too much deference for Thalia’s comfort. Ferith followed suit but she paired the respectful gesture with a genuine smile.

  The wolves had already shifted, and she guessed the large black one must be Raff. Those golden eyes were uncanny, gazing out from a canine face, and he opened his mouth in what almost looked like a toothy grin. Thalia was momentarily dumbstruck by the sheer impressive size of these changed Animari. She didn’t know much about wolves, but even she could detect differences in bone structure and fur patterns. Among the wolves stood an enormous tiger, pacing with barely concealed impatience.

  I should learn more about them.

  It wasn’t like her to leave a task half-done, and though she hadn’t initially planned to become the wolf lord’s lady, if not his queen, she would throw herself fully into the role. Raff loped over to her, standing as tall as her thigh. Nobody would ever mistake a shifted Animari for a natural woodland creature. She extended a hand, then paused.

  “May I?”

  The black wolf dipped his head, so she touched two fingers to the plush fur between his ears. A little sigh slipped out of her. While she had no such desires where the man was concerned, she couldn’t stop the thought that it would be lovely to hug him in wolf form and put her cheek against his warm head.

  “I will be your hunt master!” Gavriel called. “We will be splitting into teams of two. If numbers allow, our Animari guests should choose an Eldritch partner, as we know the terrain best.”

  Since Raff was already standing at her side, Thalia said, “Partners?”

  And received a little growl in response that she took for assent, especially since he didn’t move while the others ran about. Once the couples were set, Magda was left without a partner, and Gavriel scowled. “Tiger woman, I will take you myself.”

  Probably in response to his tone, the great striped cat raked the air near his knees, forcing him to leap to avoid a nasty claw swipe. Thalia bit back a laugh. It wasn’t often that someone got the best of Gavriel.

  The stableman led Guthrie out, offering Thalia the reins. A less stalwart creature would be panicked to be standing among so many predators, but her mount only pawed the ground with diamond-sharp hooves as if warning the wolves and great cat not to venture too close. She swung astride without aid and waited for Gavriel to blow the hunting horn.

  “Here is your prey,” he called, as a drone whirred into view, white and silver, so it would be difficult to track visually in this terrain. “Bring it back intact or in pieces. The victor will receive a great prize from our treasury and, of course, full bragging rights.”

  The horn sounded.

  As the gates opened, she raced out ahead of the pack, Raff running beside her. He seemed to match her mount’s speed easily, and Thalia admitted they made an impressive sight: white vedda beast with Eldritch warrior queen flanked by her great black wolf. This is a scene straight from one of the old stories, worthy of being captured in stained glass.

  She also knew that the others had given her a head start and Gavriel had probably told them to hold back—to let her win. As if she was such a poor sport.

  There could be no reciprocal conversation in this form, though he understood everything she said. “You take point. I’m no tracker, but my beast can keep up.”

  Raff let out an affirmative yip and it gave her pleasure to see how joyfully he bounded forward, leaping over rocks and down snowy slopes as if he had been born in these hills.

  “I’ll follow you,” she said, and wondered if he knew how strange it was, how long it had been since she made any such promise.

  The drone had long since passed beyond her ability to detect, but he must be able to sense it, because Raff oriented himself straightaway, running west with complete assurance.

  The wind felt lovely on her skin, and the sun was high in the hills, perfect weather for such an outing. For these brief moments, her worries blew away like dandelion down. Her vedda beast had grown fat and lazy while she studied maps and pondered strategies. On impulse, she let out an ancient Eldritch war cry, shrill and bloodcurdling.

  Raff glanced back to check on her and stumbled, claws slipping on a half-hidden cascade of rocks. Before she thought, she was on the ground checking on him—and that impulse saved her life.

  A red bolt of light singed the tree Guthrie stood under, charring the bark to ash. Raff lunged at her, knocking her out of the path of the falling fir, and they hit the ground hard.

  I wish I had my bracers.

  She rolled to her feet, knives dropping into her palms. “Prepare to fight.”

  Almost before Thalia spoke, Raff h
ad a lock on their enemies.

  Fucking Eldritch. If they were trying to murder the princess, they couldn’t be her people. Leaping ahead, he raced into the undergrowth to hunt down the rotten devils. They all smelled different, these elfkin. The ones he was currently tracking reeked of herbal smoke, underscored with a deep fungal rot, as if they’d crept out of some underground burrow.

  Another burst of red light spattered the ground as he ran, a hiss of steam and stink of charred earth. They had powerful weapons, but it wouldn’t help. Raff used the forest to cloak his motions and drew their fire. Thalia came on behind him, screeching and fearless. Knives flew over his head and he heard the muffled thump of a body hitting the snow, smelled the coppery tang of blood in the wind.

  How many left?

  If this was a war party, they might have bitten off more than they could chew, but he had the battle in his blood. Raff let out a howl to send word to the rest of the wolves that there was a real quarry to face and then spun as movement caught his eye. Eight Eldritch crept out of the trees, ringing them slowly.

  Thalia gave no orders as she vaulted atop her mount, but he took his place behind her, dwarfed by her vedda beast yet he had no worries that she would trample him. The creature seemed calm and ready to fight, rearing in warning when the nearest enemy crept closer. A blade sang past him, slamming into a pale forehead. One down. Raff leapt at the next, sinking his fangs in deep. The Eldritch slashed at him with clumsy hands; clearly, he had no idea how to fight an Animari. He bit down and snapped the ulna. The weapon plopped from the warrior’s bloody hands, and then the screaming started.

  Raff spat. Even the blood tasted wrong, sweet and sickly at the same time. There’s something the matter with these Eldritch. It was eerie how none of them had spoken a word and they attacked in mechanical motions. Raff glanced at Thalia, but he couldn’t tell if she’d noticed the abject wrongness of their foes. The smell of damp decay intensified, until he could barely breathe. Ignoring the stench, Raff circled and went for his prey’s Achilles tendon this time. More rancid blood in his mouth.

  Four down, five left.

  He checked on Thalia with a lightning-quick glance, and hand to God, the princess stole his breath, so lovely in her graceful violence that he nearly forgot to finish off his kill. She had risen to her feet on her mount’s back, flinging knives like a goddess of the blade. He had no fucking idea how she could stay on the beast as it stamped and spun, but she was light on her feet, nimble as a flying squirrel. She dropped two more as he watched.

  No need to fret about her.

  He dodged a barrage of red light and ran through the burn patches on the ground. With full strength, he launched himself and knocked the Eldritch back, the light gun somersaulting out of his hands. Raff went for his face and simply bit through the hands that came up in a protective reflex. Another look at Thalia.

  No blades left, she dove across the vedda beast’s horns and she twirled across them, as he’d seen acrobats do on rings or bars. Then her body became a weapon, lashing out with precise kicks. The vedda beast moved in unison with her, hooves striking out as she did. Blood sprayed in their wake as they stunned and tramped their hapless opponents. Reassured, Raff dove back into the fray, finishing those she dropped.

  The last one produced a large weapon that looked like it was Golgoth made. Raff raced toward him as the bang sounded, and a metal slug slammed into Raff’s shoulder, driving him into a tree. He spat red and charged, sprinting beneath the vedda beast. Without either of them speaking a word, she went high, and he went low. The final enemy screamed as Raff gouged his femoral artery and Thalia caved in the left side of his skull. Their bodies were still warm and twitching as she dropped to a crouch beside one.

  Hurts. Sodding hell, my whole body is on fire.

  Raff wished he could speak because she needed to know that this wasn’t a normal gun, but something devil made, designed to hurt Animari. But how the hell did they know she’d have Animari in her lands? There were disturbing implications to this line of thought, but his brain felt scrambled, and he couldn’t quite connect the dots on why he should be troubled. Trembling, Raff sat before he fell over.

  Breathe. It’ll probably pass.

  “What do we have here?” With deft hands, Thalia searched their corpses. Raff couldn’t ask but she must’ve thought he’d be curious.

  And he would be, if his damned shoulder wasn’t on fire.

  “House Manwaring, a scouting party. It won’t be long before they send numbers.” She sighed softly. “I wanted to show some hospitality and keep my manners, but there’s no time for niceties, I fear.”

  That seemed obvious to him as well. He bit back a whimper.

  Thalia went on, “This cuts our hunt short, though this excursion has served its purpose. I’m certainly impressed with your prowess. But…there’s something off about their warriors. Look at their blood.”

  It was too dark, he thought. For sure, the stuff tasted nasty; he could still feel it coating his tongue, more viscous than normal, too. Before she could say more, his four guards loped into the clearing, hackles raised. Red wolf, timber wolf, gray wolf, steppe wolf, all present. Normally, Raff would brief them, but the scene spoke for itself.

  Gavriel and Magda arrived last; he’d never seen the Noxblade wearing such a grim expression. “Unfortunately, we will not be completing our course. Everyone, head back to Daruvar immediately.”

  In response, Thalia vaulted onto her vedda beast, leading the way back to the fortress. Raff stayed close and tried not to show much how his wound hurt. What the hell did he shoot me with? The injury should be sealing, even around the projectile, but he could feel blood gushing from torn flesh. The faster they got there, the better, since first aid had to wait until everyone was safe.

  Gates clanked open, permitting their passage. The mood was a hell of a lot darker when they closed. He had the absurd thought that the drone might be lost forever.

  It had been long enough that the sun was going down, and the chill came on fast with the night. Once they reached the bailey, Raff dropped out of wolf form and stumbled. Magda was beside him in two strides. All the Animari were naked but unlike the Golgoth, the Eldritch didn’t seem bothered. Thalia was snapping instructions at Gavriel and Lileth, faster than he could process her words.

  Not surprising, he was woozy from all the red he’d left behind, a river of it, seemed like, and it was still pouring out of his shoulder.

  Mags slammed both palms over the wound. “I did a shit job of protecting you, I see. What the hell is wrong with this?”

  “Not sure,” he got out. “Think it’s a special weapon. The Gols have something…” It hurt to speak and black nibbled at the edges of his vision.

  To his surprise, Thalia turned and ran to him, setting her shoulder beneath his other arm, but Mags didn’t let go. Some bodyguard, he tried to say, but his tongue was numb, and it came out as a strange choking sound.

  “We need a doctor!” Lileth shouted. “No, get him inside, you idiots. Move. Now!”

  Raff lost the light.

  6.

  “Why won’t the bleeding stop?” Thalia demanded.

  The scene was straight from a nightmare, crimson everywhere, and to make matters worse, the small medical staff wasn’t trained in Animari physiology. Nobody had a spare breath to answer, working flat out to extract the bullet from Raff’s shoulder. Judging by his expression, the doctor was completely baffled, which didn’t bode well.

  “Vitals dropping,” the nurse called.

  Thalia stared at the medical machines, uncomprehending. House Manwaring had a weapon designed to kill Animari in one shot. The horror swept over her in a chilling wave that prickled her skin. It could only mean that they had no intention of making peace or accepting Thalia as queen of the Eldritch. No, they meant to follow her father back to the old, murderous ways and would prefer to see the Animari and Golgoth both go extinct. House Manwaring didn’t have that power, of course, which was why they’d alli
ed with the tyrant Tycho.

  “He needs a transfusion,” Dr. Wyeth said.

  Immediately, the four Pine Ridge guards stepped forward. The youngest, Tavros, said, “It should be me. I’m type O negative, universal donor.”

  Under normal circumstances, they’d take blood and run tests to make sure, but medical machines made it clear they didn’t have time. Raff didn’t have time. The emergency team glanced at Thalia, likely hoping she’d take responsibility for the decision.

  Life and death, that’s my job. I’ll carry this too.

  “Do it. Save him. If there are complications, I’ll take responsibility.”

  Relieved of culpability, they got to work swiftly, pumping Tavros’s blood into Raff.

  Mags had been examining the bloody projectile and she suddenly dropped it with a shudder. “This is treated black iron with a beryllium core.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’s an Animari slayer. Treated black iron prevents wounds from healing. The chemical interaction hinders coagulation. And beryllium is toxic to us, as few substances are. We’re resistant to most chemical weapons, most herbal poisons as well.” Magda let out a long sigh, her gaze fixed on Raff. “Whoever designed this knows a great deal about Animari vulnerabilities.”

  It was impossible not to wonder about the Ash Valley second, who had disappeared during the attack. Dead people could not hide, so probability suggested that he had gone with the Golgoth. To Thalia’s mind, the only question was whether he was a conspirator or if he had been taken captive.

  Dr. Wyeth cut into her thoughts, stepping past her to ask Magda for guidance. “Do you have any suggestions for how to treat beryllium poisoning? I’m also unsure if our medicines will help with the coagulation issue.”

  “One way to find out,” Magda said. “Test them on me, first.”