The Wolf Prince

by Claire M Banschbach

  “No. He said killing the sorcerer would break the spell. I need to know!” He had to know. It all would be for nothing if Killian survived, only to remain a wolf.

  “Damian will explain everything when he returns.”

  Lars scowled and stalked away when no other answer seemed forthcoming. If Damian didn’t return soon, he’d find some way to get answers.

  Chapter 31

  Rose smoothed the fletching of one of her arrows between her fingers, over and over, studying the fine line of the feathers. The sight of Lars hunched over Killian’s bleeding body still haunted her. Please just let him be all right.

  “Told you that’d ruin ‘em, didn’t I?” Her father paused beside her.

  She managed a smile and tucked the arrow back into the quiver at her side.

  Kaspar groaned as he sat next to her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Just worried about Killian is all.”

  It’d been a full day since the battle, but Damian had not returned. Lars looked like he hadn’t slept, and he kept touching his wounded side. He’d probably reinjured himself and not told anyone.

  “I’d never seen a faery before yesterday, but I’d say he’s in good hands.”

  She rested her head against her father’s shoulder. “I know.”

  He wrapped an arm around her, as if she were still a little girl and they still sat in front of their cabin watching the deer in the twilight.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  She looked up at him. “Why?”

  “For disappearing on you. I don’t want you t’ worry.”

  “Too late for that.” Rose shrugged. “I’ve always worried.”

  He squeezed her shoulders. “I’m proud of you, Rose.”

  “Really? I did run away just t’ prove t’ you and myself I could be a Ranger and—”

  “Rose.” Her father shook his head. “I am. Wouldn’t have trained you if I didn’t think you could do it.”

  She fumbled with the hem of her tunic. “Thanks.”

  “And you rubbing shoulders with royalty? Think of t’ stories you can tell.” He nudged her and she giggled.

  “Aye, Kaspar’s daughter, the one who shook t’ king’s hand.”

  “You know Magda will want t’ kiss your hand. She does love our king.”

  Rose dissolved into laughter. Oh, I miss home!

  Kaspar chuckled, patting her shoulder.

  “That faery’s coming back. You should hear what he has t’ say.”

  Rose looked for Damian and saw nothing. “How do you know?”

  “You’re not a Ranger yet, girl. Can’t be telling all t’ secrets.” He winked.

  She rolled her eyes and went to alert Lars. A bit of disbelief clung to his face in a tiny frown, but he watched the forest with her. Seconds later, Damian stepped from the trees into the clearing. Lars’s eyes widened in surprise and she shrugged her shoulders.

  “How did he know they were coming?” Lars spoke to her under his breath. “Can you do that?”

  “No.” Rose smirked. “Not yet, anyway.”

  Lars and Rose joined Damian and the others who spoke earnestly with the king.

  “The healer expects him to recover, however…”

  “He’s still a wolf, isn’t he?” Jonas spoke quietly.

  Damian nodded.

  Lars scowled, pushing to the front. “But the sorcerer is dead. You said—”

  “I said there was a chance,” Damian gave Lars an even stare. “Killian didn’t want me to tell you the other alternative.”

  “Of course he didn’t.”

  “The original curse is strong and overtook the sorcerer’s,” Damian said, speaking once more to the king. “The only way to break it would be to find the witch.”

  Jonas blanched. “But she’s long dead. So, you’re saying—there’s no chance.”

  Damian shook his head.

  “No.” Lars stumbled back a step and Rose grabbed his arm, holding him up. The king flinched at the faery’s words as if he’d been punched in the gut.

  “There’s—there’s nothing—?”

  “I’m sorry. We’ll do what we can, but…” Damian gave a shrug.

  Rose let Lars go as he turned and stumbled away. What do I say? There’s nothing that will mean anything. Angry tears pricked at her eyes.

  Their journey to save Killian had been for nothing.

  She made her way back to her father in a daze, sinking to the ground beside him.

  “What happened?” He studied her face with concern.

  She blurted the terrible news, new tears threatening to clog her throat. At the mention of the witch, a look of puzzled wonder came over her father’s face.

  “What?” She broke off. “What is it?”

  “Something I haven’t thought about in years. Something about your mother.” Her father hesitated, gripping her hand. “Rose, there may be a way to help Killian.”

  *

  “Lars?”

  Rose found him just outside the camp, sitting atop a fallen oak, staring at something she couldn’t see. Her heart twisted at the despair in his slouched shoulders.

  “Lars?” She tried again, and he jerked his head up to see her.

  “Sorry. It’s just…” He lifted one hand in a helpless gesture.

  She sat beside him. “I know.”

  “I just wish I could do something—anything…”

  “Lars, I—my father just told me something that you need t’ hear.”

  Rose paused, searching for the right words.

  “My mother’s ancestor was rumored t’ be a witch. A witch that was summoned t’ the castle one winter’s night.”

  Lars’s tapping hands stilled.

  “As tales of t’ royal curse spread, the family ‘forgot’ the truth t’ distance themselves from t’ witch. But t’ tale was whispered through generations. Father says my mother had a saying: ‘One day when t’ king repays his debt’. She always used it t’ predict some fanciful notion. When he asked her what it really meant, she only laughed and said it was a family legend.”

  Rose leaned forward to see her friend’s face. “But—but I think we know better. Lars, I don’t know if…” She paused to breathe and pray again her mad idea would be true. “I just wanted t’ say that you and Killian have become a little like brothers t’ me. You let me come along and looked out for me when you didn’t have to. And Killian protected me against that Baedon.”

  She took Lars’s arm, gripping it tightly, her heart pounding in her chest. “I hope it means something now when I say the debt has been repaid.”

  Lars doubled over, the breath rushing from him, leaving him gasping. Somewhere in the trackless forest, a wolf howled.

  Chapter 32

  Killian couldn’t ignore the gentle persistence of the morning sun any longer, its warmth and light gradually teasing him awake. He stirred and rubbed his eyes. His hand froze in the midst of tousling his hair.

  Am I—?

  He sat bolt upright, staring at his shaking hands. Bright pain in his side cut through the giddy shock, and he lay back down with a grimace. Killian pushed soft blankets away to reveal the bandages around his torso, pain running along his ribs to just above his left hip.

  He remembered seeing Lars lying helpless, attacking the sorcerer, and being stabbed. The sorcerer was dead, but—he stared at his hands again.

  Maybe Damian was wrong.

  Killian sat up more cautiously and pulled the blanket away from his foot, which had been wrapped in a bandage up his calf. He glimpsed himself in a mirror leaning against the opposite wall—mussed brown hair, human features, and amber eyes.

  I almost don’t recognize myself.

  His bed filled one corner of an unfamiliar room made of dark grey stone, swirls of lighter grey creating patterns across the walls and ceiling. Rich wood panels of varying widths covered the floor, and the table, chairs, and bed had been etched with carving along the edges. Through the rounded window, Killian looked down on the tops of
trees which extended over the horizon line.

  He lay back down, clutching the blankets against his chest.

  Where am I?

  He didn’t remember much besides Lars holding him, and then—nothing until now.

  Do they know? He ran a hand over his face, reminding himself it wasn’t a dream.

  The door clicked open and Felix stepped in. He took one look at Killian and stuck his head back out, calling for Damian.

  “Finally awake then?” Felix took a seat by the bed.

  Killian nodded, suddenly afraid his speech hadn’t changed as well.

  Don’t be stupid.

  He attempted a question.

  “How long have I been—human again?” He needn’t have worried. His voice came out croaky from disuse, but it worked. His heart lurched in relief.

  “Almost two days,” Felix said. “And you’ve been here for almost four, including the solstice.”

  Killian shuddered. Noak had come so close to fulfilling his plans. “Where am I?”

  “Our home. You’re the first, and most likely the last, human to set foot in the faeries’ mountain.”

  Killian blinked. “Is that allowed?”

  “Our king is a little more understanding than the last one.” Felix smirked. “He didn’t raise an objection when Damian took a literal interpretation of our law, since you were still a wolf when he brought you here.”

  Killian grinned. It sounded like something Lars would have done. Lars! “How are the others?”

  “Anxious for you to return.”

  “When can I?”

  Felix shrugged. “That’s up to the healer. All I know is, you’re not dying anymore.”

  Killian chuckled. It felt so good to be able to laugh again. “That’s helpful.”

  Felix winked. “I know. Damian will let your family know you’re awake. Though I’d pray the healer has good news before Lars goes crazy with waiting.”

  Killian laughed again. Lars had never been a patient person. “How is he? He was wounded during the ambush.”

  For a moment, Lars’s shocked and pain-filled expression flashed in his mind. The scent of blood had been so strong. I should have sensed the ambush sooner!

  “Damian and I were able to help him. He should be healed by now.”

  “Thank you.”

  I wouldn’t have forgiven myself otherwise.

  Someone knocked on the door and Damian entered, joining Felix at the bedside.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Not terrible.”

  Damian’s face twisted in a smile. “Healer’s on her way to check on you.”

  “Damian, how am I—human?”

  “Rose.”

  “What?”

  That makes no sense. She said she didn’t have magic. But what did those trolls say?

  “I said the witch was the only one who could break the curse.” Damian crossed his arms, smiling. “Rose is a descendent of the witch. She considered the stipulations of the curse fulfilled. The king had repaid his debt.”

  “The only time he’s enjoyed being wrong about something,” Felix cut in with a grin.

  Damian shoved his shoulder, but Felix barely moved. “I just wish I had realized the truth sooner. We’ll let you rest and go tell your family.”

  “Thank you, for all of your help. I’m just glad that you don’t have to figure how to help a wolf talk,” Killian said.

  Damian chuckled. “Me too.”

  Killian looked to Felix. “And thanks for protecting us.”

  Felix tipped one eye in a wink. “It wasn’t quite the chore I expected.”

  Killian braced a hand against his side as a laugh broke free.

  “Get some rest, Killian.” Damian touched Killian’s side and some of the pain eased.

  Killian nodded and settled back against the pillow as the faeries exited the room. He stared up at the ceiling, tracing the swirling patterns. He remembered the gruff voice of his father at the end. If only there’d been a way to save Uncle Hugo, too.

  He sighed and tried to adjust more comfortably. Despite the novelty of staying in a faery castle, he was ready to go see his family and Rose.

  *

  To Killian and Lars’s mutual dismay, two more days passed before the healer allowed the former out of bed. The faeries gave him new clothes of incomparable quality and gave him permission to roam the hall outside his room, though they were reluctant to let him wander the mountain.

  Finally. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. I’m about to go crazy if I stay in here any longer.

  He took a step and nearly tripped. He stared down in horror. I knew the trap had damaged my leg. But this…

  The toes of his left foot dragged against the ground as he stumbled to the opposite wall. Killian braced one hand against the stone and stared down at his rebellious foot, his mind refusing to accept the truth.

  Crippled.

  The word haunted him. Gritting his teeth, he pushed away from the wall, clenching hands into fists as he limped back to the bed. His lower leg already ached as he sat down.

  “Give it some time.” Felix stood in the doorway.

  Killian hadn’t even heard the door open.

  “I don’t think time will make this better.” Killian fisted the blanket in his hands. He hadn’t noticed the injury as much as a wolf when he used three paws to balance instead of just one foot.

  “You will get stronger, adapt to it. If you give up now, you’ll never finish healing.”

  “Know this from experience?” He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice. Felix looked the picture of health.

  Felix huffed a faint laugh and opened his wings. Killian’s breath froze. It should have been a proud sight, but holes punctured the shining membrane near the tips, large enough to cause an unnatural fold along the edge. Other small rents had been slashed along the edges.

  I’ve never seen him fly!

  “What happened?”

  Felix’s face remained impassive, his jaw clenching slightly, but he folded the wings away, and he sighed.

  “Years ago, probably counted around Lars’s age as you’d see it, I’d been commissioned to make a sword for one of the king’s guard. I was a good smith, even then.” Felix half-smiled. “But I was stuck, didn’t know how I wanted to design it. So, I went for a walk in the woods. Damian and I would go out all the time, wander wherever we wanted. I didn’t think twice.”

  He shifted between his feet, rolling his shoulders before continuing.

  “But that day, I got caught by a Nameless One nowhere near where they usually lurk. He pinned me to the ground by my wings.” He paused again. Killian’s blood ran cold. Felix recited the story so matter-of-factly.

  I was almost sacrificed by an insane man. I can’t imagine getting tortured too.

  “There are more scars. He took most of my magic. It was a long time before it came back. So, I had to learn how to function without it, and believe me, for a faery to lose magic—it’s worse than your leg.”

  “Can—can you fly?” Killian hesitated over the question.

  “I can fly for short distances. But it took time to learn and become strong enough. So, yes, I know from experience.” Felix raised one shoulder and offered a faint smile. “And it turned me into the grumpy, withdrawn faery you see today. So, take it from someone who knows.”

  Killian took in a breath and stood again, wobbling a little as his left foot reluctantly accepted his weight. He walked again under Felix’s watchful eye, accepting occasional help from the faery. By the time he made it back to the bed the third time, his leg and side ached.

  “What if it doesn’t get any better?” Killian let his shoulders droop. “What if I can’t run or fight or—just become useless?”

  Yet another reason for people to whisper about him.

  “You only become useless if you choose to be.” Felix leaned on the chair. “You have a life to live, Killian. Don’t waste time worrying what others think.”

  “I
s that what you do?” He tilted his head.

  “I won’t say it’s easy.” A slight grin touched Felix’s face. “Ready to try again?”

  Killian pushed to his feet.

  One day at a time. Although I’ll settle for being able to walk in a straight line when I see Father and Lars.

  *

  Two days later, the healer removed the bandages for the last time. Killian ran a hand across the red scar that traced his side. Even if it hadn’t killed him, without the faery magic it would have taken months to heal. Other scars marked his shoulders and chest, and small scars from the fight with the mastiff marred his face.

  I’m never going to look at those animals the same again. He shuddered at the memory.

  Adela had left clothes cut in the Calvyrnian fashion and he dressed. Killian pulled on his new boots, refusing to stare at the slight twist in his left foot that would never vanish.

  Killian shut the door behind him, meeting Damian in the hall. He followed Damian through corridors and down steps, catching glimpses of other faeries in rooms crafted with beautiful care. He tried not to stare, but he’d never seen the like. Damian paused before a carven oak door.

  “I’m probably not supposed to show you, but…” He cracked the door open and Killian stared in shocked amazement.

  The faeries’ great hall was a cavern in which his home could, no doubt, fit comfortably. Gems inlaid into stone pillars winked in the light of lanterns suspended from the ceiling. Tiles of dizzying shapes and colors swirled together in spiraling patterns, leaping from pillar to pillar across the floor. Two empty thrones graced the dais at the far end.

  “It’s even more impressive when prepared for a feast.” Damian shut the door with a quiet click. “Come.”

  Killian followed in awed silence.

  And I’m the only human to have ever seen this!

  Damian took him down one more staircase to another door, opening it and allowing a rush of fresh air into the mountain. Killian stepped outside, breathing easier in the wide space of the outdoors. He glanced up at the slope of the mountain, catching the glint of windows and terraces in the sunlight.

  A few steps later, Killian glanced back again and saw only tall pines and tumbled rocks littering the mountain.