by Billy Wong
While staying at the inn of a small town where they'd just wrapped up a hunt, she received a message from Evie. I've been trying to reach you, the note said, but you keep moving. Come to Veid if you have time, will you? I need help.
Knowing it was a rare thing for her sister to ask for, she went right away. She met Evie at her apartment above a butcher shop in Veid, a humble dwelling for someone so well known. "So what do you need, sis?" she asked after they greeted each other. "Are you in trouble?"
Looking tired, Evie shook her head. "I'm not, personally. Our father's gone missing. He stopped answering my letters, and when I wrote somebody else in town to find out what was going on, I learned he'd vanished. I can't leave right now because I have a big fight coming up, so I want you to find him."
Given how awkward meeting him would be after he'd thrown her and her mother to the wolves, Red didn't look forward to that. "Why me? Why can't you get Boris to do it, or one of your other friends?"
"You're from our hometown. You know it, they don't."
"But it's been nearly a decade since I was there. A lot's probably changed since then."
"Not that much. Your familiarity will definitely be of help." Evie looked into her eyes. "Please? After all the favors I've done for you—and those annoying back pains I have from last time—can't you just do this one little thing for me?"
Red exhaled. "Oh, fine. I'll find our loving dad. Just don't be upset if I wind up having angry words with him."
She got downstairs and explained to Herbert what was up. "So we're going to stop working again?" he asked tersely.
"What do you mean, again? It's been four months since our last break."
"Officially, yeah. But we don't make money when we're looking for work in between jobs, either."
"This is an important family matter, though," she said, her voice soft. "My father-"
"I thought you didn't care for your father. You haven't seen him in years."
"But my sister does. We have to compromise sometimes, to maintain a good relationship." He gave a nod as if to say he understood, and she continued, "Besides, why are you so concerned about steady employment anyway? Lots of people have professions with irregular work. If we end up being short on money from this, we'll just ask my sister for some."
Herbert frowned. "Don't you ever feel bad about taking her money, instead of being able to support yourself?"
Though she tried not to admit it, that upset her a little. "I'm doing something for her, so it'd be like being paid for a job anyway. Besides, it's good work we do. Probably more worthy than most other work—think about how many people we must've saved from werewolves."
"Maybe, but doesn't seem so wise to be charitable when you can hardly feed yourself."
She looked down. While he had been tough enough to put up with it until now, she knew the life of a wanderer with little coin to spare was harder for someone not as accustomed to it. "I could go look for my father alone, you know, while you find something else to do."
He didn't answer right away, but said, "No, I'd better stay with you. What if you run into trouble and need help?"
"I did do this for years alone, you know."
"Sure, but you still needed me to save you that one time, no?"
"From the big bad giantess?" Red smiled. "Yeah, everybody needs help now and then. So if you don't mind the non-work, I'll be glad to have you at my side."
A shrug. "I might not find any jobs with merit anyway. Better to spend the time making sure you're safe."
They traveled west towards her hometown of Wren Ridge, enduring three days of cold rain along the way. Red and Herbert cuddled through the nights for warmth. Though she didn't feel a physical attraction to him, the proximity to a man made thoughts of romance run through her head. How many out there would take one like her, with disconcerting facial discoloration, scars, and the sense of danger her violent history carried with it? She was sure there were some, but where would she look? Maybe Evie could introduce her to someone, someday. For now she still didn't think she had time for courtship, unless a man was crazy enough to tag along with her killing werewolves for the sake of it.
When she didn't climb into his bedroll with him the night after the rain stopped, Herbert asked, "So you're not going to miss my cuddly warmness?"
"Your belly makes a good pillow." She grinned. "But I still prefer not being pushed around in my sleep when I can help it.
Reaching the landmark two miles away from which Wren Ridge got its name, Red finally overlooked the mid-sized circular settlement surrounded by a wood fence. It had grown a bit, probably due to refugees moving in from the conquered city not far to the south. Some things were bound to have changed, but she hoped enough would remain the same so that she didn't have too much trouble navigating the territory.
They entered town, and Red headed for the house her best friend had lived in. When she knocked on the door, Sam's mother opened it. The youthful woman she remembered had aged a fair amount, and seemed thinner with her lined face. It'd been a decade, after all. "Who are you?" she asked, nervous eyes looking from Red to Herbert hulking behind her and back at her silvery-veined face.
"It's me... Tabitha." She hadn't said her given name in so long, she barely remembered it. "Is Sam around?"
"Sam doesn't live here anymore. He went to try his luck in the city."
"The city that got taken over by Lord Errol?"
The woman exhaled. "Yes. There is still much unrest, but he's decided to stick it out in the hopes of establishing a career for himself."
"Is he a songwriter now like he'd hoped to be?"
"No. He found he didn't have the talent, and has wisely resigned himself to be a carpenter."
"Well, I wish him luck," Red said awkwardly. She could hear the tension in the older woman's voice talking to her, and it made her tense too. "So do you know if my father still lives where he used to?" She supposed they could've just gone there, but she'd wanted to see a friend first, even if he might have all but forgotten her.
Instead of answering, Sam's mother replied, "You'd best be going. We don't need any of that trouble around here."
"Wait, what? ...no, you misunderstand! I'm not looking to get payback on him—do I look that crude, that I'd attack my own father?" The lack of response made her lower her gaze, but then she shook her head and clarified. "I heard he'd gone missing, and want to help find him."
"Help? I don't think anybody really noticed that old drunk had disappeared, or cared."
Someone had cared enough to tell Evie, at least. Red felt grateful towards whoever that was. "Sorry to have bothered you. We'll handle it ourselves, then; take care."
"A little rude of her, don't you think?" Herbert asked as they left.
"I can hardly blame her for being intimidated by such frightful looking strangers as us, even if she used to know me in ages past." She was more worried by Sam's mom calling her father a drunk. For all he'd hurt her and the other women of their family, she found it didn't particularly comfort her to think he suffered a fair share himself.
They headed over to the house where she once lived. Along the way, they got many more suspicious glances like they had coming in, and Herbert growled, "They shouldn't treat you that way. They're the ones who wronged you."
She shrugged. "They're scared as much as anything else. Besides, it might not be just me. You're big and imposing yourself, and we both carry a lot of weapons."
"Maybe... still. We hunt werewolves, which they fear. Doesn't make a lot of sense for them to fear those who protect them."
But the world didn't work that way. She was sure he knew that, though people might have tended to show less overt distrust towards a knight, and just said, "In any case, I'm thankful you want to protect me. But I'm not so easily hurt by a few unpleasant looks."
Her old house had aged worse than the dwellings around it, dusty and faded with boards coming loose in some places. "Looks like your old man didn't care much to keep up appearances."
"I'd expect that. What would be the point?" Without any family... he might not have had to struggle to survive as much as her, but maybe that struggle at least helped her keep her mind occupied. She understood Evie better now, and why she kept in touch with their father despite her open disapproval of his actions. For both his daughters to cut him off completely would be cruel indeed.
Checking the door, she found it locked. Herbert moved forward as if to kick it down, but she motioned him off with a smile and reminded him she could open the door while saving the lock. She picked it and stepped inside. The interior looked just like she remembered, except the curtains were clearly getting old and frayed. Apparently he hadn't wanted to change anything that would remind him of happier times. She looked around the front room, saw nothing amiss. She peeked into her parents' bedroom, and her eyes misted as she relived her mom dying in her scrawny young arms. It was hard not to fault him for that sometimes. She went on to the room she and her sister shared. Her favorite doll sat on the dresser, its cloth face rotting after all these years. She wondered why Evie hadn't taken it with her. Maybe she'd left it for Red to find, in the hopes she would someday come back. The wisdom of young girls? Probably not, but it was funny to imagine Evie having such foresight when she usually didn't even as an adult.
Her hand extended almost automatically towards the doll, and she picked it up. Her eyes widened as doing so revealed a folded note under it. I knew you would. Open me, Red Rider. She held her breath while she did, a knot in her stomach. She had a bad feeling about this. I have your father, it read. Come to the old monastery north of town if you want to see him... one last time, before we settle things. -The Werewolf King
"What the hell?" Herbert asked. "But didn't you kill him?"
"So this could be an impersonator, or someone who took up the mantle." She wondered why they would target her so soon, though. It didn't seem like there had been that much time to build the werewolf faction's strength back up—but then, it was now only her and Herbert. "This will be dangerous. I'm sure we'll be walking into a trap."
"Likely. Any ideas?"
She paused for a bit before nodding. "I might have one."
Hours later, Red pulled open the creaking front door of the abandoned monastery atop the plateau. Several windows were broken and cobwebs filled the halls, but she saw hints of recent disturbance made by steps in the dust underfoot. Her heart beat quickly, partly for the anticipation of a fight, partly from the thought of meeting her father again. How could their reunion go, other than badly? She pushed aside the discouraging fantasies that came to mind. Survive first, then she could worry about that.
She had entered the monastery's large but plain dining room with its stout, blocky furniture and begun to cross it when the clanking of chains overhead reached her ears. She gazed up to see a large cage plummeting down at her. Huh. She dove forward past it—and too late, realized another was already coming down towards the spot she'd landed in. Looking up, she got a glimpse of a figure on a balcony pulling down a lever. Then the cage slammed down against stone floor around her, making cover her ears in pain.
The person who had dropped the cage walked down the stairs at the back of the room, smiling. A slender, clean shaven man, far from the stereotype of a werewolf in human form. "You're the new werewolf king?" she asked. "You're far from living up to your predecessor, physically speaking."
He laughed, a high, annoying sound. "New? I've been the werewolf king—the true one, not that big musclebound stand-in. Among dumb animals, it might be the strong who rule, but for thinking creatures, it's the smart."
"And it was so smart of you to run away while leaving those loyal to you to die, huh?"
"Better them than me."
"Of course you'd think so. But I think maybe being around so many stupid werewolves made you forget you're not the only one who can have a brain." And Herbert barreled into the room, running around the cage to sweep his blade at her captor's head.
The bastard sword clanged against the bars as the man ducked. He pulled a pouch off his belt and flung its contents up into Herbert's face, a chalky powder that made him cough and choke. As he staggered, the wolf king darted to his side and whipped a thick wooden club into the back of his head. His eyes rolled up and his huge bulk slumped to the ground, senseless.
The wolf king turned back to Red. "Or maybe you're the one who underestimates me. I've been preparing for this for a long time. Don't you think I'd account for your whale of a partner?"
She spat into his face, but he merely grinned and licked at it. "He's lost weight, you bastard," she said.
"And you'll both lose a lot more... that of all your flesh, when you're dead and rot away." He reached for a crossbow at his belt.
Red eyed the faraway lever accessible via the balcony. It was a long shot even for her, but since she didn't want to kill the wolf king just yet and had to get out... she drew one of her daggers and hurled it. It struck the lever and pushed it into the up position, and a moment later the cage was ascending while her captor stared. She rolled under it while he tried to hold it down, slashed his leg. He bent to grab it and she stood. She grabbed him and slammed him back against the nearest table, nearly snapping his spine over the edge. He bared his teeth as if in preparation to transform, but she stopped him with a long knife pressed against his throat.
"None of that, you hear?" she said coolly. "Should've made sure there was less space between bars."
He struggled beneath her blade to gaze towards the balcony, clearly in shock that she'd not only hit the lever, but done so with the right force and angle to change things in her favor. "But I thought... that was impossible..."
"That's where we differ. Cowards like you accept things to be impossible. Warriors like me, we make the impossible possible."
The wolf king looked like he was about to cry. "It's not... fair, Red Rider."
"What's not fair is how you tried to stack the deck against us, and you still lost. Now tell me where my father is."
"Why? You'll just kill me anyway!"
She plunged her second knife into his flank and twisted it, making him shriek. "Yeah, I will. But it can last a second or a day."
He wouldn't stop screaming with the blade inside him, so she pulled it out and gave him some seconds to recover. When his cries shrank into sobs, she raised the bloody point to his eye and stared meaningfully at him. "He's in the prior's study. Damn y-"
Red sliced his throat, cutting him off in a gurgle. She shoved his dying body aside and strode over to Herbert. "Hey," she asked touching his face, "you okay?"
He groaned and blinked open his eyes. "Ow, shit... son of a bitch hits hard for a twig."
"Well, he was a werewolf." Even in human shape, they tended to be fitter than the norm, and he had been swinging a heavy club.
"Guess you're the one who had to save me this time, eh?"
"That just makes us even."
She helped him up, almost getting pulled over by his weight despite her strength, and they continued upstairs. Since she had no idea where the prior's study might be, they searched every room. Finally, she spotted her balding father tied to a chair in front of a desk. Seeing him after so long, her heart skipped a beat. His eyes were closed, and she wondered if he was sleeping or unconscious. He had aged much more than Sam's mom; though Red knew him barely over forty, the flesh sagged from his face like that of far older man. She walked forward to undo his bonds, only for him to open his eyes.
"Tabitha?" he asked groggily. "What are you doing back here?"
"What does it look like? I'm here to save you."
He didn't react for a bit, and she thought it would be all right. Then his eyes focused on her face. As she removed the last of his ropes, he said, "So you are indeed tainted."
She touched her cheek, where she knew the silver veins could be seen. "No, you don't understand, this isn't from the werewolf. It... it helps me fight them."
"I know. I've heard. It's a result of the 'magic' you've used to
prevent yourself from becoming one of them. But don't you realize that as you fight them, you become more and more like them? Truly, those who are touched by evil are forever haunted by it."
She tried to help him stand, and he brushed her off. "What do you mean? I know I live a violent life, but I only seek to kill werewolves. They threaten innocent people, children and adults, and somebody has to defend humanity against them. Is it so wrong that I dedicate myself to it?"
Her father signed. "Perhaps not in itself. But the more blood you shed, the less you come to think about it. Did you know you recently murdered a harmless woman?"
"Huh, what do you mean? No I didn-"
"Yes, you did. That woman in the cart whose life you took, thinking she was a werewolf? I heard her husband's tale. She was never bitten, only clawed. You killed her for no reason."
The words hit her like a hammer. Her jaw moved, but she couldn't talk. Herbert put a hand on her shoulder, giving her absolutely no comfort. Finally she managed to stammer through her dry mouth, "B-but she was tied up, and he had marks on his face. I w-was sure they'd fought..."
"They did. He thought she would turn too, so he subdued her by force even though she tried not to let him. He was mistaken, and only found out after her death. You should have checked better, my daughter the murderer."
She realized neither the husband nor child had ever said the woman had been bitten, only that a wolf "hurt" her. Those with a layperson's knowledge of werewolves could easily believe one's claws could turn a person too. Red fell to her knees, the weight of guilt like a thousand pounds on her shoulders. "I-I'm sorry," she whispered, sobbing.
"Don't apologize to me, I'm not the one whose wife you killed, though your mother might have lived had she not cared overly about your tainted self. But do leave town, before you can bring any more trouble."