Chapter 29
Killian couldn’t stop shivering, the tremors intensifying the ache in his body. His licked at his wounded leg, grimacing at the rancid taste it left on his tongue. The Ranger watched him, frowning as Killian simply sniffed at the scraps thrown his way.
“You need t’ at least drink.” The Ranger cupped some water in his hands.
Killian half-heartedly licked at the fluid before returning to his miserable ball.
“What’s wrong with ‘im?” A boot prodded his side.
He didn’t even care to show his teeth.
“He’s sick. That wound’s infected!” The Ranger glared at the soldiers, his eyes snapping. Rose came by it honestly. She’d always spoken up for him.
“Well, ‘e’s gonna have t’ move.” The first speaker tugged at the rope around Killian’s neck. “We’re moving out.”
The rough fibers snagged deeper into his fur, rubbing against raw skin. They apparently didn’t care that Killain choked as they pulled him to his feet. He staggered a few steps, halted by a familiar blue robe. Noak stared down at him, little compassion in his grey eyes.
“I’m sorry it’s come to this, Prince Killian.”
“Don’t lie.”
“But come tomorrow at noon, you will no longer have to suffer.”
No fear lurked in Killian at the news of his impending death, just stoic acceptance. He stumbled along at the end of the rope, not even caring as the mastiff snapped and taunted at his heels.
He put one paw in front of the other as many times as he could before his legs gave way beneath him. Noak ordered the Ranger untied enough to carry him, and they continued.
“Hold on there, lad,” the Ranger murmured comfortingly. “We’ll get you taken care of when we stop, eh?”
*
Killian pried his eyes open and stared at the slivered moon. He didn’t remember their arrival at the new campsite. The Ranger slept nearby, hands bound again.
I hope whatever happens, Rose will have a chance to reunite with her father. At least that way, some good will come of all this.
Movement from the corner of his eye brought his attention to two stakes driven into the ground, rough-hewn branches stacked in a pyre around them. No doubt for him.
Noak circled the pyre, arms moving in tight symmetry. The light breeze carried his murmured words and Killian shuddered. He couldn’t understand the words, but his animal instinct recoiled from them.
The man in the yellow jerkin stood nearby, arms crossed. Killian bared his teeth in a snarl. If he had a chance to make the man pay for hurting Lars, he would take it, no matter what.
The man met Killian’s glare and a smirk played across his features, as if he knew Killian’s thoughts. A growl rumbled against Killian’s chestbone.
“Now, now, don’t blame Finn for what happened. He just happens to be effective at following orders.” Noak approached.
“I have no problem taking a piece out of you too.”
“I wish I could understand your new language,” Noak said. “But I must say, the curse that witch placed on your family was a beautiful one. So intricate. I wonder if the faeries were going to be able to help you?”
He laughed at Killian’s silence. “They couldn’t, could they? You’d already be human again. Now you know the sad truth about the faeries.”
Noak crouched before him, eyes glimmering with hate. “Everyone thinks they have the answers, but they don’t. Or they just choose to help when it’s convenient for them. My family was no one important, but still good people. During the war, the soldiers came to my village.”
Killian pricked his ears, startled, and Noak chuckled.
“Oh, yes, I was alive then. Magic soothes the years away. The soldiers accused us of harboring magic users, even though they knew we hadn’t. A faery was with them, and he said nothing as my village was burned and slaughtered around me. I buried my family and decided I’d have my vengeance.” Noak leaned forward, anger casting a deeper grey in his eyes.
“I was told magic had no place in the world except in the faeries. But if we humans could harness it, then it’s clear the faeries want it for themselves.”
Killian recoiled, doubt edging his mind. What if Damian wasn’t telling the whole truth about my curse? What if he could break it?
He shoved the thought aside. Judging from the manic look on Noak’s face, the man’s opinions weren’t to be taken too seriously. He’d much rather trust the faery who hadn’t hunted him with the intent to kill him.
“I’m going to stop them. Crush their magic so they know what it’s like to be powerless before they die.” Noak rested his hand between Killian’s ears. “You will help me, and for that I will always remember you.”
Killian ducked his head away with a growl. “I’d rather you not remember me at all.”
Noak only smiled and ruffled Killian’s ears, to his eternal disgust, before leaving him to his churning thoughts.
Chapter 30
“They’re moving!” Damian ran into camp, sparking a flurry of activity as the entire party leapt to their feet.
Lars grabbed his sword. Finally!
“Where?” He and Felix spoke in unison.
“The base of Mount Gwiador.”
Adela paled. “But that’s where…”
Damian gave a grim nod. “He wants to destroy our magic. He can draw power from the Mount.”
Lars exchanged a confused glance with Rose. That doesn’t sound good.
“What is this?” Jonas frowned at the faeries.
Damian glanced at the king, then at the others assembled. “The sorcerer cursed Killian because he needs his blood for a spell to take our magic, which would kill us.”
His expression grew even more grim. “Unless a faery dies, they follow a path to the Creator’s halls in the stars. Mount Gwiador holds the key to this path. Intentionally or not, the sorcerer chose this place to perform his spell. The raw magic there is intense. He could destroy the place.”
“And I thought we already had enough to worry about.” Lars’s father raised his eyebrows. “What do we do?”
“The solstice is tomorrow. My guess is he’ll perform the sacrifice at noon when the sun and the world’s magic are at their highest. We have until then to stop him.”
Lars swallowed his dismay. That only gives us hours to rescue Killian. What if something happens again and we can’t find them?
“He has ten men with him. Some had a touch of magic about them.”
“What does that mean?” Einar crossed his arms.
Felix gave Einar a grim smile. “It means we can help you fight them.”
“Your father was also their prisoner.” Damian nodded to Rose, who swayed as if she might collapse.
Lars tightened his grip on his sword. One more to rescue.
“How—how was he?”
“He looked fine.” Damian touched her arm, likely to steady her more than reassure.
“And Killian?” Lars forced his voice to remain level.
Damian hesitated, and Lars forced his expression to remain neutral even as his heart stuttered in his chest.
“Injured from the ambush. But he was walking.”
His father gripped Lars’s shoulder painfully tight. “Can we attack tonight?”
“No. The sorcerer has warded their camp. It will take us some time to prepare a counter spell. We attack in the morning.”
Jonas grudgingly murmured agreement, and Lars jerked an abrupt nod. Magic was one battle they would not win.
“Very well, Lars, you will—”
“I’m going.” Lars left his father no other option.
“You’re wounded.”
“I’m fine. I’m going to get him.”
“Lars.” The king frowned.
I’m just as stubborn as you. Lars set his jaw. I’m going.
“I’m not going to sit back and watch the horses. There are enough knights to take the sorcerer’s men. I don’t have to fight, if that’s what you want, b
ut someone will need to help Killian get away.”
He forced away the memory of Killian’s pained howls as the soldiers dragged him away.
Jonas pushed his thumb against the bridge of his nose. “Very well,” he finally said. “I know what I’d do for my brother.”
He glanced at Rose. “And I suppose I have no grounds to refuse you either.”
Rose bit her lip as she ducked her head. “No, your majesty. I can fight well enough t’ get t’ my father. I’ve come this far. I’m not staying behind now.”
“Very well.” But his father looked down at both of them with a slight smile, a tinge of pride lighting his eyes. “What’s our plan?”
*
Lars’s sword weighed heavy against his side as he followed Rose in the predawn darkness.
Killian would be impressed I’m even awake. His slight smirk died as fast as it came at the thought of his brother.
The rustle of footsteps marked the progress of the rest of the company. A bird had begun to test its song when Felix held up a hand and they came to an uneven halt. The faeries vanished to scout ahead.
Lars bit the inside of his cheek as he crouched down against a tree to rest. It would be easy to regret his decision, but any sign of complaint from him would change his father’s mind. Rose sank to one knee beside him, raising one eyebrow in a silent question. He nodded once and moved his hand from against his side.
Felix returned in a matter of minutes, signaling them on. Rose helped him to his feet and they trudged on.
Dawn had just begun to filter through the trees when they halted again. Felix slid his metal rod from his belt and glided away. Damian disappeared in the opposite direction. The others began to spread out and advanced another twenty yards to wait for the signal.
A deep rumble shook the forest and the ground quaked beneath Lars’s feet. He freed his sword, the knights on either side echoing his action. The harsh shriek of a hawk pierced the quiet and they dashed forward into a wide clearing, pandemonium erupting as the sorcerer’s men leapt into battle.
A snow leopard drove one man to the ground, clearing the way for Rose to run to her father. The leopard shifted to reveal Damian as he locked blades with the man in the yellow jerkin. A red-tailed hawk shrieked again, diving and clawing at the man who dragged Killian, snapping and growling, over to a pyre.
Lars ran to his brother and severed the taut rope with one swing. The man reeled away, cursing, and the hawk swooped to the ground, shifting into Felix. He spun the metal rod between his fingers into a spear.
“Go!” Felix dropped into a fighting stance as the soldier regained his feet.
Lars didn’t argue. “Come on, Killian!”
Killian barked, growling and yipping in mingled pain and excitement as he hobbled after him. Lars parried a blow from a soldier, shoving him backwards into Einar’s waiting blade.
The ground fell out from beneath his feet and rushed past him. He crashed to the ground with a sickening thud. He rolled to see the sorcerer standing beside him, cold fury in his gaze.
Noak stabbed with a sword and Lars rolled again, coming up to his feet in time to parry another strike. Noak’s form held little grace, but he hammered relentlessly at Lars, who stumbled back under the barrage.
Lars gripped his sword with both hands, catching Noak’s blade and pushed the sorcerer back to gain a few feet. Noak disentangled his sword, snarling as Lars went on the offensive. It wouldn’t take long to beat Noak now that Lars had his rhythm.
But a frantic wave and shouted word from Noak between strikes ripped his feet out from under him, slamming him to the ground. The impact drove his breath away and fresh pain lanced his wounded side.
Noak raised his sword.
Killian latched on to Noak’s arm with an enraged growl. He dragged Noak, screaming, to the ground and tore with teeth and claws. Lars rolled over, dragging air into his abused lungs and fumbled for his sword. His heart lurched as Noak drew a knife from the folds of his cloak, slashing a scarlet wound deep along Killian’s side.
Killian collapsed with a pained squeal. Lars shoved to his feet as Noak threw Killian against the pyre. Blood stained the wood and Killian tumbled in a twisted heap. Noak raised his arms and began a chant.
“No!” Lars charged ahead, skewing Noak through his gut.
Lars pulled the sword free as the sorcerer fell. The clearing had fallen silent. The battle over.
“Killi!” He ran to his brother.
Killian raised his head with a snarl, pain and fear clouding his eyes in feral rage. Lars slowed, dread threatening to swallow him. The creature before him looked nothing like his brother.
“Killian, it’s me.”
Killian whined softly, his head thudding back to the ground. Lars knelt beside him, panic welling up as fast as the red stain spreading across the grass.
“Killi…” He loosened the frayed rope about Killian’s neck, pulling it free, and gathered his brother in his arms, pressing a hand against the wound.
“Killian!” Their father knelt beside them, eyes wide in horror.
Killian lifted a trembling paw to brush Jonas’s arm.
“Don’t move, Killi,” Lars chided in a quivering voice.
Then Damian was there, pressing his jerkin against the wound.
“Help him.” Lars met his hazel eyes. “Help him like you helped me. Please!”
Damian soothed Killian’s fur as a pained whimper shook his body.
“I don’t have the skill for his wounds. I’ll take him to someone who does.” Damian shifted Killian into his arms.
“Damian, is that wise?” Adela paused beside them.
“We have no choice.” Damian stood. “Our care is for the forest and its creatures, is it not? This wolf needs care.”
Adela smiled. “I’ll go with you.”
They stepped away from the gathering crowd and spread their wings. Lars stepped after them, but Felix held him back.
“No, I have to go with him.” Lars’s voice broke. “He’s my brother. I have to stay with him.”
“I know.” Felix did not release his grip as Damian and Adela flew away with their precious cargo.
“Where are they taking him?” Jonas tore his gaze away.
“To our home,” Felix said. “No mortal has ever set foot in the faery caverns, but if anyone can help him, our healers can.”
Lars bent to retrieve his blood-stained blade, finally gazing at the carnage around him. The sorcerer’s men all lay dead. His gut twisted at the sight, but he forced his gaze up to meet Rose.
She stood clutching the arm of an auburn-haired man who looked thin beneath the stubble coating his cheeks. She scrubbed a sleeve across her eyes and tipped a glance up at her father. He nodded and released his hold on her to allow her to join Lars.
“Will Killian be all right?”
He shrugged, not quite trusting his voice.
“They’ll take care of him.” She clearly forced the words, but he appreciated the effort.
“How’s your father?”
“All right. Little worse for t’ wear, but he’ll recover.” She winced, as if worried Lars would compare Killian’s fate to her father’s good fortune.
He gave her a genuine smile, if small. “Good. You going to introduce me?”
Her eyes widened, but she led him back to the auburn-haired man.
“Father, this is Lars.” She flushed. “Prince Lars.”
“Your highness.” Her father bowed.
Lars extended a hand. “Sir.”
“It’s Kaspar, sire.” The man hesitantly clasped Lars’s hand.
“I owe Rose a great debt. We wouldn’t have made it here without her.”
Rose flushed and Kaspar looked down at her, pride shining in his eyes as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders again. Lars left them to their reunion, moving to help the knights gather the bodies. Felix shifted the earth for a grave, burying Noak separately, and cast a spell over the body before covering it with earth. They dismantled t
he pyre and scattered the wood before returning to their camp.
Lars went to the stream, dipping his hands under the cold waters and scrubbing at his hands. When the last flecks disappeared, he sat back on the bank.
It was done.
The sorcerer was no longer a threat. Killian was safe. He would just have to have faith that the faeries would do what they could.
“You all right, lad?” Einar knelt at the bank, plunging his grime-covered hands beneath the water.
Lars nodded, watching his uncle.
“Uncle Einar?”
Einar sat back on his heels, looking at him and waiting.
“I know I’ve disappointed you. I’m truly sorry. I’m going to try and do better.”
Einar’s face creased into a smile. “The last few days have shown me that you’re already taking your responsibilities more seriously. You’ve always had a good heart, Lars.”
Heat flashed across Lars’s face and he forced himself to look at Einar. “Even if I’ve made a mess of everything?”
Einar dried his hands on his trousers. “The mistakes won’t matter as much if you try to learn from them.”
Lars rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the rippling reflections of the trees. Good thing I have my entire life in front of me.
“If you need help, for anything, you know where to find me,” Einar said.
“Thanks,” Lars murmured, and Einar smiled again, clapping him on the shoulder.
“I’m proud of you, Lars. I know your father is too.”
Lars nodded as Einar stood and left him alone on the riverbank. As he stared at the ceaseless flow of water, his mind strayed back to the fight and the sorcerer.
The sorcerer! He straightened. Damian had said that the sorcerer’s death would break the curse, but Killian had still been a wolf.
He’d forgotten about it in the aftermath with Killian bleeding to death in his arms. Lars bolted to his feet, rushing back to confront Felix.
“The curse. Was it broken?”
Felix paused his sketching, taking precious time to reply.
Lars’s gut twisted. Something’s wrong. What happened to Killian?
“Damian will know. He’ll come back with news.” Felix folded away his paper.
The Wolf Prince Page 18