Moon Born (The Wolf Wars Series Book 3)

by H. D. Gordon

I recalled Captain Amadika’s final words to me, and nodded once. “So I’ve been told,” I said. “But I don’t know what else to do. You wouldn’t happen to know how to remove the collars, would you?”

  The Sorceress smirked. “This conversation would never have taken place if I did.”

  I sighed. “Then I must go to the City of the Seers.”

  “Yes, that is true, but the choices you make while there will ripple across the ages, and you should be aware of that. The Seers are ancient, and they care only about holding onto and increasing the power they already wield. They will use you like a pawn in their game, a game that has been going since before even I was born.”

  “I’ll be careful,” I said. “Thank you for the warning.” I was about to take my leave, but the Sorceress spoke again.

  “Cutting off the head of this snake will not kill it,” she told me. “You should understand that going in.”

  I adjusted my legs, which were folded beneath me. “Why not?” I asked. “If you cut a snake’s head off, it dies. Why will that not work here?”

  The lines around her mouth deepened as she smiled, but there was only sadness behind it. “Because with this snake, if you cut off the head, three more will grow back in its place.”

  Though her voice was gentle, motherly, even, the words caused a chill to crawl up my spine. I held the old lady’s violet gaze, trying not to let the sound of hope slipping through my fingers be reflected in my tone. “So it can’t be done, then?” I asked. “The snake cannot be killed?”

  The old lady clucked her tongue. “That is not what I said, child,” she told me. “What I mean is, the kind of victory you seek cannot be had in a single battle, or with the severing of a few throats.” She took a breath, and in the tiny space of silence, incense burned around us, filling the tent with scents as exotic as this land I’d somehow found myself in.

  After a moment, she continued on in her strange accent. Her voice was lower now, and she leaned forward, the various items adorning her swaying as she did so, as if she were about to share a great secret.

  “This is a war that never ends, moonchild. The only thing its warriors can hope for is to push the needle forward, to leave the world a little better than how they found it… And it is the most thankless of jobs.”

  “I’m not after praise,” I replied, raising my chin a little. Despite her being ancient and appearing rather frail, her gaze was as difficult to maintain as any alpha Wolf I’d ever encountered.

  Another cluck of her old tongue. “Do not be naïve, moonchild.”

  I didn’t know what to say to this, so I said nothing at all.

  The Sorceress continued on, knowing that I was missing whatever point she was trying to make. “That is not what I mean when I say it is thankless work. It’s not just that people will not appreciate you. They will persecute you. They will blame you. They will make up lies as nasty as infected wounds, and over time, those lies will become an entire story that large portions of the population believe. They will turn the heroes into villains in their histories, because that is what they do, that is just one of the ways they control the minds of the common people.”

  I remained silent as I absorbed this, but came to the conclusion rather quickly that I was nobody’s hero, and never had been, so none of what she said should matter.

  When I would look back upon this moment over the coming days, I would slowly come to the realization that she had not been wrong when she’d called me naïve.

  I stood to go, my legs aching a little at having been folded underneath me for so long. “Thank you,” I said again, and turned to leave.

  The crone called out from behind me. “What will you do, moonchild?” she asked.

  Pausing, I drew a slow breath of incense-scented air, and looked back over my shoulder at the old Sorceress.

  “I’m going to cut the head off the snake, and if three more grow in its place, I will cut those off, too. I will keep cutting and cutting, and at some point, the heads might think twice before growing back.”

  I took my leave then, and though I did not look back again, I had a feeling that the old crone was grinning widely behind me.

  Stepping out of the tent and into the harsh heat of the day was disorienting. The lighting inside had been dimmer, more accommodating to the eyes, and the air had been cooler as well.

  I could feel the sun starting to burn my skin, and recalled my summers as a pup in Dogshead, when I’d been made to sit in a cage all day under the full force of the sun, and thought I could understand now why all the females were shielding themselves from it with those gauzy scarfs.

  I headed straight back to the tavern where I’d left Vega and Asha, and found them waiting for me, the latter wearing an annoyed but slightly relieved look on her face.

  She scoffed at my arrival. “About time,” she said.

  Ignoring her rudeness, I said, “We should get going. We’re to keep heading west.”

  “You’re going to cross the Danoki Desert?” the honey-haired waitress asked, refilling Asha’s glass and winking at her in the process.

  “If that’s what lies west, then I guess so,” I replied.

  The barmaid gave me a look that bordered on pity. “Follow the black barrels, then,” she said. “They are placed at intervals along the way. Do not stray from them. If you do, the desert will swallow you up. No one will be able to find you, and you cannot trust your compasses, either. The magic of the desert messes with the magnets.”

  “Well, that sounds great,” Asha mumbled. She placed a few more coins on the table and stood. I began heading toward the door, and Vega followed, but Asha remained to give the barmaid a passionate kiss on the lips. This earned a couple dirty glances from other patrons, but the challenging grin on the Demon’s face as she strode out to join us dried up whatever words might have left their lips.

  Once we were out, we followed the slope of the street and passed through the market where I’d met the old Sorceress. Asha glanced up at the glaring sun and said she would secure us some items for the journey. As she bartered with one of the venders, I glanced toward the spot where the old crone and her tent had been pitched less than a half hour before, and saw that it was empty.

  My brow furrowed, and I glanced around the small square, thinking that I must have mistaken the tent’s position, but the old Sorceress’s dwelling was no where to be seen. I shook my head, not finding it at all amusing that I could be totally imagining things. There was no way the crone could have moved that quickly.

  Then again, nothing that had happened thus far would’ve even occurred to me a week ago.

  Asha completed her purchases, wrapping a light tan scarf around my head and the bottom of my face in the same manner as the other females in town. Asha wrapped her own head in one as well, and it felt nice to have the sun off my neck and head.

  A little further into the town, she was also able to purchase three horses, though she spat at the seller—an old Sorcerer with several missing teeth—at the price he demanded, because they both knew we had no choice but to pay.

  The Danoki Desert could not be crossed on foot.

  Then, we mounted the horses and moved toward the western side of the port town, where the edge of the Danoki Desert stretched off in three of four directions as far as the eye could see.

  “As long as we stick to the path marked by the black barrels, and be careful with our water supply,” Asha said, “we should be okay.”

  She dug the heels of her boots into the horse’s side, and he started forward, Vega and his mount following suit.

  I sat in my saddle for a moment, watching after them, and from a direction that I could not pinpoint, the voice of the crone drifted past my ears.

  “Do not be afraid, moonchild,” it said.

  I swallowed what seemed to be an ever-growing lump in my throat, and coaxed my mare forward as well. “Easier said than done,” I mumbled.

  But this time, there was no answer.

  18

  Th
e heat was such that my eyes were narrowed down to slits, my body listless as I rode across the sands.

  In the distance, the air shimmered in waves that blurred the landscape, a visual of the sun’s rays bouncing up off the earth. The scene was stunning in its vastness. The golden sands were an ever-shifting sea that rolled outward in every direction, the lack of differentiating geographical markers striking to behold.

  We’d been traveling for hours, having stopped only once thus far to water the horses with our carefully measured supply. Asha had gathered as much information about the Danoki Desert as possible, but there was no way around the fact that this was a habitat that could be deadly to those not suited for its features.

  There was the threat of the sun and lack of water, as well as that of becoming lost. And if one was lucky enough to avoid either of those fates, there were also the creatures to contend with. I had never been to a place like this, but the predator in me recognized when there were other predators lurking around the edges. Not all creatures could thrive here, but those who could certainly did so for a reason.

  Stick to the black barrels, the barmaid had warned. And thus far, we had. The black drums filled with sand were set at a distance that was just far enough to see the one ahead while still glimpsing the one behind. We’d been told that the barrels stretched all the way to the other side of the desert—a three-day ride on horseback.

  What awaited us there, I had no idea. The Erl Queen had told me that the City of the Seers could not be found, that it would find us, but by the end of the first day in the Danoki Desert, I was starting to doubt everything under the sun save for my own name.

  The one positive thing about the oppressive heat was the fact that Asha seemed too tired to go on with her usual rude remarks. We rode in silence, and when night finally fell that first evening, my body felt as though the sun had literally zapped every drop of energy out of it.

  We stopped in a spot that looked like any other; between the golden dunes and right beside one of the black barrels, and set up camp.

  We could not afford the weight of tents, so we simply unrolled the sleeping blankets that had been tied to our saddles, and Asha started a fire that she sparked with the help her magic. The tumbleweeds and dried branches of various dead plants made for good tinder, and the three of us huddled around the flames as the sky darkened and the temperature dropped to a low that I would not have thought possible when melting in the sun earlier that same day.

  It became apparent to me very quickly that sleeping in my Wolf form would be best again, and I shifted before turning in a couple circles on top of my blanket and settling in for the evening. Asha and Vega lay atop their own blankets, and none of us spoke a word.

  Around us, the desert was equally silent.

  After the days of rigorous travels, I passed out rather quickly, and was pleased when I dreamed of being in Adriel’s arms, in his bed, wrapped up in the safety that his presence provided.

  So when I was snapped out of this dream by Asha’s harsh command to get up the next morning, it was no wonder that a deep growl rumbled up my throat.

  The Demon looked at me without pity, and said, “We need to get a move on before the sun gets too hot again.”

  I knew she was right, but getting up was a lot harder than it had been the previous mornings. In my dreams, I’d forgotten where I was, that I was in the middle of some deadly desert with two people I didn’t like and definitely didn’t trust, following the directions of a map that liked to drink blood as though it were spiced tea.

  Pushing to my paws, I summoned the energy to shift back into my mortal form, and then ate some of the dried meat from my pack, following that up with a long swig of water. Just to make sure, Asha sliced her hand and offered a few more drops of blood to the map, but it only repeated the same two words that I was slowly beginning to hate.

  Head west

  Yes, but for how long? Forever? It certainly seemed that way.

  “Don’t drink too much of that water,” Asha said. “I’m not sharing mine if you run out.”

  I scrubbed a hand down my face and hung my water pouch back around my neck. “Of course you won’t,” I mumbled, mounting the horse so that we could get a move on.

  After a few more minutes of prep, Asha and Vega did the same, and once more, we were off.

  “You don’t have to be such a bitch,” I said as Asha pushed ahead of me with her horse, the words slipping out before I could stop them. I knew they were petty, and that they would do nothing to help the current situation, but they fell from my lips nonetheless.

  Asha looked back over her shoulder, dark eyes narrowed, her full lips parting to surely offer some snarky retort, but whatever she was about to say got cut off in her throat as her gaze went over my shoulder, and her eyes widened as big as full moons.

  “Run!” the Demon said, and I knew the sound of utter terror when I heard it.

  I didn’t dare look back as I kicked my horse hard in the sides, and we lurched forward into a frantic gallop.

  Don’t look, I told myself.

  Don’t look don’t look don’t look—

  I looked, and I should not have.

  I couldn’t help myself. Whatever was on our tails was bad enough to make the Demon wear an expression that said she might have soiled her trousers, which would have been an amusing thought if it weren’t for the fact that my heart was beating out of my chest.

  As I stole a glance over my shoulder, my body bent low over the neck of my horse, I saw what had made Asha’s brown skin go nearly white, and it was almost too much for my mind to process.

  Three black scorpions twice the size of my horse were scuttling after us. Their pinchers raised high in the air as their eight legs propelled them over the dunes. Their stingers were curved over their backs, the poisonous barbs at the end bigger than my head in circumference.

  The sound of their legs moving over the sand, and the focused way in which they chased had me digging my heels into my horse even harder, snapping the reins, sending up curse-filled prayers to Gods that I did not believe in.

  The scorpions followed.

  Even beneath his fearsome mask, I was sure that Vega was wearing the same panicked expression that Asha had passed to me, and as he kicked his own mount into faster motion, the stinger of the leading scorpion lashed out toward him.

  For a split second, I was absolutely sure that it was going to impale the Valac warrior, but in the same moment, Asha twisted around in her saddle and sent a bolt of lightning flying at the arachnid. It stridulated, creating a hissing noise that had every hair on the back of my neck standing on end.

  “Faster!” Asha shouted, and I was too scared to shout back the No shit! that echoed through my head.

  Our horses, the poor beasts, moved with every bit of speed they possessed, and as I leaned down against the warm neck of my own, I picked up the scent of fear floating off the animal. In that moment, we were little more than frightened prey, and I stroked the mare’s neck to comfort both of us as I told her to run run run!

  But the scorpions were fast, and so big that they had no trouble herding us.

  And that was exactly what they were doing, I realized; herding us somewhere, somewhere away from the black barrels that marked our path. And if we lost sight of those, even if we did manage to kill or escape the scorpions, the desert would “swallow us up,” as one pretty barmaid had so eloquently put it.

  “The barrels!” I shouted to Asha.

  Whatever curse she mumbled was absorbed by the sands our horses were currently scrambling across. When she looked around and couldn’t see a barrel in any direction, she jerked the reins of her mount to the right in an effort to loop back in the other direction.

  As she did this, I caught a glimpse of Vega, and watched in awe as the large Valac warrior twisted around in his saddle, nocked an arrow in his bow, and fired it at the scorpion that was nearest.

  Things were moving too fast for me to follow the track of the arrow, but that e
ar-piercing hissing rose up again, draining the blood left in my face and making me want to slap my hands over my sensitive ears.

  Vega nocked another arrow, but the scorpion that was now behind him lashed out with its stinger so fast that Vega’s horse reared, and the Valac warrior went tumbling off the rear of his mount.

  To my utter amazement, his black mask came flying off, and his large body hit the ground hard, rolling over several times before coming to a stop.

  I blinked, ignoring the sand that was scraping at my face along with my better instincts as I steered my own horse back the other way. I almost fell off in the process, but squeezed my knees tight when the beast bucked, and somehow managed to stay aloft.

  I could still smell the fear of the poor animal on which I rode, but could hardly separate it from the scent of my own, because as I approached the scorpions that had been chasing us, looking at them full-on for the first time, I was more afraid than I could ever remember being in my life.

  And that was really saying something.

  My horse halted before we reached Vega. The warrior had drawn his sword, and was squaring off with the scorpion towering over him with its long legs and snapping pinchers.

  As he did this, a second scorpion approached from behind him, its barbed and bulbous stinger rising high into the air, like a snake preparing to strike.

  Without conscious thought, I launched myself off my horse, drawing the blade that Asha had given me at the start of this journey. Using all of my supernatural strength, I slashed at the stinger in mid-strike.

  To my absolute amazement, the metal of the blade cut cleanly through the barbed tail just before it could impale a now mask-less Vega.

  Blood that smelled terrible and was thick and green sprayed out into the air, staining the golden sands and sizzling under the harsh glare of the sun.

  The creature whose stinger I’d just severed let out the worst hiss of any issued yet, and when it turned on its eight legs to see who’d had the nerve to amputate it, death was in its beady black eyes.