Meanwhile, Imen gathered around us, both wary and curious as they watched us interact with a pit wolf—a creature they’d known their whole lives was bred for one thing and one thing only: killing them. I couldn’t blame them for being afraid, but Jack really was different. He was free.
I was pretty sure that other pit wolves would act the same, but Jack was the only living example I had to work with, at this point. For the time being, he was a wonderful breakthrough.
“I think these were caused by daemons,” Patrik said, covering the last of Jack’s cuts with healing paste. “Judging by the width and depth, someone really wanted Jack dead.”
I inched closer and noticed the dried blood around Jack’s mouth and on his chest. “Something tells me they got the short end of the stick on that one. Good boy, Jack.”
The pit wolf seemed pleased to hear me say that, though he still wasn’t comfortable with Patrik, given his grumbling protests. Nevertheless, I was happy to see him. After everything we’d experienced in the Valley of Screams and in Azure Heights, Jack was my little glimmer of hope that Neraka wasn’t inherently evil—just stuck under the dark influence of greedy, horrible creatures.
And we were going to restore the balance in this world. Realistically speaking, there was no way for us to get off the planet without defeating the bastards who had put Jack under a spell in the first place. Luckily, Jack was eager to help us with that.
Avril
The growls of a pit wolf got all of us out of our teepees with lightning speed. Nevertheless, I instantly relaxed when I saw Scarlett defending the beast from the terrified Iman—it didn’t take long to put two and two together and identify the pit wolf as Jack.
“Is that—”
“Scarlett’s pet. Sort of. Yup.” I cut Heron off, just as he reached my side.
“His name is Jack,” Scarlett interjected.
“Oh, good, she named him,” he replied sarcastically. “I tell you, he is freakin’ huge. No wonder they’re all scared of him.”
Jax, Hansa, Caia, Blaze, and Fiona joined us as we walked over to Scarlett, Patrik, and Jack. Vesta kept a few feet’s worth of distance from the pit wolf, but I could almost see the tension dissolving from her shoulders. Harper and Caspian came out of the same tent, flushed and wide-eyed as they, too, figured out the pit wolf’s identity.
“How did you sleep?” I quipped, giving them both a playful grin.
“Like a baby,” Harper replied bluntly, ignoring my innuendo, then nodded at Caspian. “They let him out this morning.”
“Good for you, Lord Kifo,” Jax interjected, then shifted his focus to Jack. “I take it this is your new beastly friend, huh, Scarlett?”
Scarlett smiled, scratching Jack behind the ears, while Patrik wiped the healing potion and dried blood from his hands with a wet cloth. “Yeah, I’m genuinely impressed by the fact that he made it, after last night’s insanity.”
“Just goes to show what resilient creatures the pit wolves are,” Jax replied. “I think we should focus on setting them free from those collars going forward.”
“They would come in handy against their daemon overlords, for sure,” Hansa said. “Anyway! Now that we’re all gathered here, it’s time to get organized.”
“Speaking of which, Caspian shared some insights—as much as he could, anyway,” Harper replied. I knew for a fact that the two of them were getting closer. It was written all over their faces, especially in the way Caspian’s gaze softened on her. I couldn’t help but feel a little pang in my stomach, wishing I could muster the courage to tell Heron about my feelings toward him.
Watching him as he inched closer to Jack just made my heart swell and ache. He looked like a kid, eager to pet the big pit wolf—who towered a couple of heads above him. Jack sniffed his hand, then lowered his head, allowing Heron to touch him.
“Ah, look at that.” Scarlett chuckled. “He likes you.”
Heron grinned. “Yeah, he recognizes awesomeness when he sees it.”
“Be careful, though,” Patrik suggested. “He’s still a little cranky because of his wounds.”
As he said that, Jack looked at him and growled, prompting Patrik to take a couple of steps back and away from Scarlett. “I think he’s just cranky when you get too close to his adoptive mom.” Heron laughed.
“Can you kids focus a little bit?” Hansa muttered, frowning at us.
“Okay, okay,” Heron sighed, dropping his shoulders and putting his hands behind his back, like the soldier he was. “We’re just enjoying these scarce moments of peace, that’s all.”
“I know, Heron, and there’s nothing I’d love more than to relax with you all,” Hansa said, “but right now there are daemons and Exiled Maras out there looking for us. Once we get to the swamp witch and reach out to GASP, this nightmare will be over.”
Hansa was right. We couldn’t really enjoy much of anything—not until we broke the daemons and Exiled Maras down. The damage they’d done to Neraka was horrific, and it was now spreading to our people, too. We had to stop them from bringing more Shadians and Eritopians over here. No one deserved to suffer like the Imen had over thousands of years.
“You mentioned insights,” Hansa said, looking at Harper and Caspian. “What insights, exactly?”
“Caspian said there are three other species worth looking for,” Harper replied, briefly glancing at Vesta, who’d joined our circle. “The Adlets, the Manticores, and the Dhaxanians.”
“That’s worth a shot, actually,” Vesta muttered, then snapped her fingers at her two trusted scouts, Dion and Alles, who were busy gawking at Jack. “Boys, bring out the maps from my tent. We’ll need them.”
The Imen scouts nodded and darted to the side, then returned with armfuls of rolled paper—rudimentary maps of the region, which they carefully spread out on the ground, pinning the corners down with rocks.
“I thought the Imen were on their own,” Jax replied, his brow furrowed as he analyzed the terrain maps, which showed the Valley of Screams, the isolated coastline of Azure Heights, the western plains, and the world beyond—a colorful array of deserts, wide fields, hills, and snowy mountains. Various pigments had been used to mark the geographical features, along with curves for the hills and sharp angles for the mountains.
“They are, for the most part,” Vesta said. “There are rumors of other species still surviving, but their numbers are downright negligible, and they’re isolated in parts of this continent where not even daemons dare to venture. For example,” she crouched, and pointed at a desert area on the northwestern part of the map, “this is where Manticores were seen, just a few months ago. Over here, toward the east, there is at least one pack of Adlets still standing, and there are rumors of a handful of Dhaxanians using the mountains as refuge, farther to the north.”
“Can you show us where in the daemon city they’re keeping the Druid delegation?” Hansa asked.
“It’s here, on the north side, past the desert,” Vesta replied, her hand traveling across the map. “This is Draconis, a prison city. The one beneath the Valley of Screams, the capital of Shaytan’s kingdom, is called Infernis. Draconis is where all their prisoners go, Imen or otherwise. Each daemon city keeps a steady supply of Imen to feed on, but they’re all processed through Draconis first and transferred via subterranean tunnels.”
“Okay, so, if it’s all the way up here, we could pass through this desert and look for Manticores, right?” Hansa asked, joining Vesta in a crouching position before the map.
“Yes, but the Adlets and Dhaxanians are farther to the east,” Vesta explained. “Maybe if we put two teams together, we could reach that side, too,” she added, then sighed. “If we spread out like this, I’ll forfeit my request for the dragon to stay here and look after my people. We’ll need all hands on deck for this. My tribe will stay on high alert in the meantime.”
Vesta had initially requested that we left Blaze to look after the tribe but, given our circumstances and the possibility of gathering allies in t
his fight, it was no longer a viable option.
“That actually makes sense, though I dislike splitting our team up again,” Jax replied. “We don’t have much time and have a lot of terrain to cover, however. I suggest we break up into two groups, one large and one small. Harper, Caspian, Fiona, Caia, Blaze, Hansa, and I can take Draconis and the Manticores, for example, and Avril, Heron, Patrik and Scarlett can handle the Adlets and Dhaxanians.”
It sounded reasonable, but I did have some concerns. “How do we communicate, then? How do we know who has done what? Do we meet back here in the camp? How would this work?” I asked.
“Here,” Vesta replied, pointing at a solitary mountain smack in the middle, roughly one hundred miles north of the camp. “This is Ragnar Peak. We could all go together up to this point, then go our separate ways and meet back here in, I don’t know, seven days, tops? It’ll take a couple of days, at least, to reach the mountains, for example, and the same goes for Draconis. And that’s with indigo horses.”
“You have enough of them here?” Jax asked, raising his eyebrows.
Vesta nodded. “Yes. I strongly recommend using Ragnar Peak as a marker. This camp will move in a couple of days. Hansa is right: there are daemons and Exiled Maras looking for all of us, not just you. They will, eventually, track us here, and our swamp witch magic tricks are not enough against a full-scale attack. I’m hoping that once we get to Draconis, we can get our hands on that cloaking spell that the daemons use to conceal their entrances into the city. My people sure could use that.”
“Okay, that works. Let’s consider seven days to be the absolute maximum. If either team gets back to Ragnar Peak sooner, they’ll stay there and wait for the others,” Jax said. Then his gaze darkened, and his tone dropped. “Should the other team fail to return in seven days, it will mean that the worst has happened, and you’ll have to regroup and continue the mission—which, right now, is to find the swamp witch.”
“I think we’ll be okay over on the northeastern side,” I said, “especially with a Druid and a pit wolf. I’m more worried about you guys, dragon or not.”
“I’ll go with Jax and his team,” Vesta replied. “Dion and Alles will guide your team through the plains on the northeast. We have better odds now than we did before, I’ll tell you that. Up until a few days ago, I didn’t think we had any allies left.”
“You said you know people in Draconis last night, didn’t you?” Hansa said.
Vesta nodded. “Two daemon pacifists, to be precise. I’ve been in touch with them via secret messengers. One will be waiting to get us into the city, and the other will help us move around, as well as answer some questions.”
“Good. Sounds like a plan,” Hansa replied.
I felt like we had it somewhat easier this time, but I also didn’t want to keep underestimating this world. We knew little to nothing about what lay beyond the camp, and even less about these potential allies. I couldn’t help but draw some parallels back to Serena and her group, back when they were first abducted and brought to Calliope.
They’d had trouble finding trustworthy allies, and the last thing I wanted was a repeat of what happened with the Sluaghs, who had joined forces with Azazel’s Destroyers and incubi soldiers. We lacked strength in numbers. The least we could get were quality friends.
Caia
Patrik had Dion and Alles help him prepare healing potions and a couple of other spells with the supplies he had left in his backpack. “Unfortunately, I don’t know enough about Neraka’s flora and minerals to choose suitable replacements for some of these spells,” Patrik muttered, “so we’ll have to be careful with how we use these.”
“That’s fine,” Vesta said. “Dion and Alles know how to cook up some of our swamp witch spells, if needed. They won’t work as well as yours, but they’ll do the trick.”
“Tell us about these creatures we’ll be looking for,” Avril said, while sharpening her sword with a diamond rock. There was a pile of them left for us to prepare our weapons, and we were all busy doing the same, along with restocking our belt satchels and backpacks. Ledda had been kind enough to have the Imen females prepare some dried breads and fruit, as well as water, for our non-vampire and non-Mara team members.
“The Manticores are thought to have a nest here, in the Akrep Gorge,” Vesta replied, pointing at the map. “It’s a cluster of tall red rocks in the middle of the Harvaris Desert. It’s a dangerous territory, and few of us venture there. The wild animals are mostly night hunters, and extremely hostile. To be honest, the Manticore nest is more of a rumor, but it’s worth a shot.”
“What are they like?” I asked, then stole a glance at Blaze, who was still refusing to look at me. I had a feeling he was still struggling with guilt after Rewa had mind-bent him into strangling me. I knew dragons were kind of hard-headed, so it would take some time for him to loosen up and understand that it really wasn’t his fault.
“The Manticores were always vicious warriors,” Vesta replied. “Their culture was tribal and violent, and the strongest and fiercest of their fighters were always honored with precious stones and other riches. Their tails have a needle-like extension, and it injects deadly venom with incredible speed. We don’t have an antivenom, so we’ll have to be careful not to cross them. If they sting us, we will die.”
“I wonder if vampire blood can heal that,” Harper muttered.
“Mara blood definitely can’t,” Caspian replied. “We tried, a long time ago.”
“How many of them do you think there are left?” I asked.
“Honestly, I have no idea,” Vesta said with a shrug. “A nest could hold up to fifty of them in the old days, but I don’t know what it’s like for them these days. If they’re still out there, that is. They would be thriving in the desert, though. They like it hot and dry. It’s one of the reasons the daemons went after them first when they started conquering the surface territories. They didn’t want the competition—the Manticores eat raw flesh, too. They never got along with the daemons because of that. They’re also extremely territorial, but, then again, so are the Adlets.”
“Caspian said they’re two-spirited creatures,” Harper replied, then looked at me. “They’re like werewolves. They shift from humanoid to wolf.”
“No way!” I gasped. “Nerakian werewolves! Who would’ve thought?”
“They’re huge, though,” Vesta said, then nodded at Jack with a smirk. I followed her gaze and found Jack lying on his back, his belly up as he watched Scarlett sharpen her sword and knives. “As big as pit wolves, to be precise.”
“They have red fur, though,” Harper added.
“Bright red, yes. Long before the Imen understood the Adlets’ nature, back in more primitive days, they used to call them ‘fire spirits’,” Vesta explained. “They usually live and hunt in packs of ten and more, each covering up to ten miles’ worth of land. They were spotted in the Plains of Lagerith, here,” she said, pointing at the map again. “It’s covered in tall grass, perfect for the moon-bison to graze. The Adlets take cover in the neighboring forest patches and hunt during the day. They used to rule the nights, until the daemons came to the surface and pushed them into changing their hunting habits.”
“You know for a fact they’re still there?” Scarlett asked, sheathing her sword.
“Yes. I know of one pack, for sure. They mark their territory with the skulls of their fallen brothers. The daemons like to crush them, just to show everyone else that they’ve taken over, but this area here,” she replied, her index finger circling a particular spot on the map, “is still Adlet territory. Dion and Alles passed by a few nights ago, and the skulls were still there. Intact.”
“The daemons don’t like that region much,” Dion added, while holding a small leather bag for Patrik to fill with a mixture of crystal powders and herbs. “It rains a lot in those parts, and, since they like hunting invisibly, it doesn’t work for them. They just hijack the fringe cattle when their meat source runs low near Draconis. Infernis covers
the southeastern plains, so the Adlets were left with Lagerith. For now, anyway. It’s only a matter of time before either the Exiled Maras or the daemons decide it’s time to wipe the red wolves out, too.”
“What about the Dhaxanians?” Harper asked. “I’m told they’re quite the opposite of daemons.”
“Yes, literally.” Alles chuckled, then got up and passed healing bags around to each of us, while Patrik and Dion moved to prepare the rest. “They’re ice people. Everything they touch is taken over by frost. They’re pale and skinny, barely a wisp, but boy, don’t let them touch you!”
“They were last spotted in the Athelathan Mountains, farther north from the Lagerith Plains,” Vesta added. “We know for sure there are some of them still living there because the mountain peaks are always covered in snow, even in the middle of summer. No daemon dares to go up there, anyway. They thrive in fire, but the Dhaxanians like it cold. The low temperatures will slow a daemon down. I’d bet you’ll find plenty of them frozen up there.”
“I hope so,” Avril muttered. “I’ve never rejoiced in the deaths of others, but, man, I’m okay with making an exception for daemons. May those mountains be loaded with their corpses. At least it’ll be proof that the Dhaxanians can do some serious damage.”
“Speaking of which,” I said, “why haven’t they tried to get together, between species, and fight the daemons?”
Vesta sighed, then rolled the maps into two tubes, which she then tied with leather strings. She kept one and handed the other to Patrik. “They tried, thousands of years ago. But when the Druid delegation crashed and the daemons got their claws on the swamp witch, it was game over. The Manticores went down first. The Adlets managed to retreat and survive in small packs, keeping to secluded patches, particularly where it rained a lot. The Dhaxanians didn’t stand a chance, either, but they were able to secure a couple of mountain peaks, and the daemons stopped trying to go after them. They couldn’t leave the mountains, either.”
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