The Wolf Lord

by Ann Aguirre

  None at all.

  Thalia didn’t even breathe, calling on all her Noxblade training to slip away unseen. Best not to interrupt such an intimate moment. He probably didn’t care about their argument anyway. Sex was easy for him, and he was good at making people care. Too good, truly—she blinked away what must be dust in her eyes.

  I am not crying.

  Thalia found a quiet corner and dropped into a crouch, wrapping her arms about her knees. Her hair veiled her face, so hopefully nobody would recognize her while she got herself together. She swallowed the tears, but she shook as she did it, nails biting into her legs, teeth sinking into her lower lip until the outward pain suffocated the inferno within.

  Odd, it feels as if someone I love has died.

  That was closer than she liked to the truth than she preferred. But not someone, something—several things, actually—such as possibility and hope. Idiot. You knew what he was from the beginning. He never tried to fool you. The wolf’s always been a wolf. It was ridiculous that she’d started to dream of more. Her life had always been solitary. It would always be so.

  When she rose, some while later, she was all icy composure, and she went to find Ferith. The Noxblade leader was on a conference call with the parents who had gathered to hear Thalia’s decision. As luck would have it, she arrived in time to give the answer herself.

  Ferith stepped aside and beckoned her toward the camera, ready to beam her words. Thalia brought up a practiced smile and said, “Our children are so precious. On further reflection, I cannot ask you to send them until I prove my worth and unite our people. We can revisit the matter once I sit upon the silver throne.”

  With a click, Ferith ended the transmission. “You’ve decided to be a benevolent ruler, then?”

  “I always wanted to be. The old ways are hateful and brutal.”

  “That they are. What’s next for us?”

  After Gavriel’s departure and Raff’s fickleness, it bolstered her to hear the word ‘us’ from Ferith. “We don’t have the foot soldiers for an all-out war with the other houses, and the drones can only stretch so far. Mines will keep them from taking Daruvar without the spy in our ranks, but they won’t gain us any ground.”

  “I’m aware of all that, Your Highness. Or are you thinking aloud?”

  Slightly chagrined, Thalia nodded. “I used to do this with Lileth in the room. Does it bother you?”

  A smile softened Ferith’s lean features, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “No, I don’t mind being your sounding board.”

  “Bribes and gifts will only empty our coffers without guaranteeing allegiance.” The more she thought about it, there was only one way to resolve this, quick and clean.

  “Allies you buy only stay bought as long as you can afford them,” Ferith said.

  “True. Which is why we’re going to kill Ruark Gilbraith.”

  The Noxblade laughed. “Is that all?”

  “I’m not joking. Gear up and tell me anything you learned from Tirael while she held you captive. I’ve got an old map of Braithwaite, where Ruark is holed up.”

  “You’re serious? The two of us will end the fighting by assassinating the head of House Gilbraith?”

  “There’s a historical precedent,” she said defensively.

  Before she could elaborate on it, Ferith sighed. “I know our history, same as you. It’s not the after-effects I’m questioning, but the likelihood of us getting to that point. This seems like a good way to get ourselves killed.”

  It was difficult to find the right words because her head and heart were such a mess, but she was positive that this was the right move. She just had to convince Ferith. “I spoke to a kitchen worker this morning.”

  The other woman arched a brow. “You want a cookie for that?”

  “No, that’s not the point. She said she doesn’t care who rules, right to my face. And I’m sure that’s probably true for most. Which means I need to take power with a swift, decisive strike, or not at all. The people just want the fighting to stop. They don’t really care about my high ideals.”

  “A rude awakening, I suppose,” Ferith observed.

  “Perhaps a bit, but a welcome one. I’d rather have the truth, even if it hurts.”

  Like a husband snuggled up with someone else in the dark. Briefly, she considered asking Ferith what she thought of Sky and Raff. Before, it seemed like Ferith had bonded with the young wolf during their imprisonment, but it didn’t seem right to involve anyone else in their private business.

  Thalia let out a shuddering breath and banished the memory of that scene from her mind’s eye. I won’t think about this anymore.

  “Anyway, if I’m meant to rule, this can be my trial by fire, the start of the legend of Good Queen Thalia, first of her name, restorer of the silver throne.”

  “Or a footnote about a pretender who died,” the Noxblade said in a somber tone.

  “That’s the other possible outcome.”

  Ferith stared at her, unspoken questions and doubts in her pale eyes. Thalia thought, Gavriel would have gone with me without a moment of hesitation. But that sort of reckless devotion wasn’t what she needed; Ferith’s caution might even let them complete the mission, however improbable it seemed.

  “Very well,” she said finally. “Let’s do it and let our names be writ large in posterity.”

  Thalia grinned. “You just want to kill Ruark Gilbraith.”

  “Guilty. The man’s such an asshole.”

  “Then pack your gear and meet me at the front gate. We can take a Rover mini part of the way, at least to our own borders.”

  “I’ll reprogram a drone from the stockpile, get it to run recon for us.”

  “Good thinking. I’ll download all the plans I have for Braithwaite, pack up our best poisons, and see you in an hour. Is that long enough?”

  “Any longer and I might come to my senses.”

  That was a joke. Thalia might not be as emotionally close to Ferith as she had been with Lileth, but the Noxblade was known for keeping her promises. There were stories about impossible kills she’d pulled off for Lord Talfayen while secretly working to further Thalia’s interests among the rest of their people, and she knew how many of those tall tales were true. In a guild of killers, Ferith stood head and shoulders above the rest.

  She only hoped her lesser skills didn’t get them caught, but this wasn’t something she could send an assassin to do alone. Truth be told, her excitement was growing by leaps and bounds, fizzing euphoria in her bloodstream.

  Thalia packed swiftly and scrawled a note that she tossed onto their unmade bed. Mentally, she shrugged. It wasn’t like Raff would be looking for her anyway.

  And then she crept out into the night.

  Sky was calmer when she woke, much to Raff’s relief. She still hadn’t explained why she was so upset before passing out; maybe now he could get some sense out of her. Rubbing her eyes, she sat away from him and hung her head, the picture of chagrin.

  He waited until she composed herself fully to ask, “Can you talk?”

  “Yes. Sorry.”

  “Did something happen?”

  “I’m not sure how to explain it without sounding silly,” she hedged.

  “Well, you already cried yourself to sleep. How can words be worse?” It was tough not to show his impatience because he’d promised her parents that he would protect her before they left Pine Ridge and he’d always regarded her as a little cousin. But he needed to make things right with his wife, so Sky should start talking already.

  She ducked her head. “Then I’ll just tell you. I was in my room, trying to read, and then…the room wasn’t there anymore. It was night, and we were in the courtyard. Eldritch were coming at us from all directions, and Korin didn’t answer your calls. It was just you and me, fighting for all we were worth, but Raff…you died. I saw it happen, the spear that impaled you straight through, pinned you to the ground. I saw the Eldritch who killed you.”

  Just a bad dream, he
started to say, but he couldn’t get the words out. The fact that she’d run straight to him, sobbing her heart out, proved it was more. He’d never heard of a Latent seer developing powers this late, but then, the pride mistress at Ash Valley had shifted for the first time at twenty-seven, so he probably shouldn’t dismiss what Sky had seen. She was only twenty-two, and possibly the stress of her recent captivity and the situation overall had awoken some dormant power.

  “Can you remember anything else? Anything that might help us pinpoint the date?” If she was right, then an attack was coming. Just knowing that might give them the necessary edge.

  “Not really. It was dark, and it wasn’t today. That’s all I’m sure about.”

  “Close your eyes and try. Every detail could be critical, Sky.”

  “Then…you believe me,” she whispered, sounding shaken.

  “I can’t afford not to. The stakes are too high. Let’s focus and see how you can narrow down the vision.”

  Too bad Bibi isn’t here. She should test Sky and if necessary, take her for training, if she’s awakened as a seer.

  “It’s a clear night…oh, the moon. It’s fuller. Five days, maybe as much as a week? I’m not sure, I’m not good at judging that stuff.”

  It was probably too much to expect that she’d seen a calendar or glanced at the clock during the vision, so the moon might be their best marker. “All right, sketch it for me. Then we can match it and approximate how long we have until the incursion.”

  Raff got some paper and a pen, but Sky’s artistic ability didn’t narrow it down much. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m no good at this.”

  “All right, then. Five to seven days. If that’s the window, it is. I’ll talk to Thalia and we’ll start preparing for it.” An idea occurred to him then, and he got out his phone and pulled the video warning Ruark Gilbraith had sent to taunt Thalia. “Is this the Eldritch who killed me in your vision?”

  Sky shook her head. “No, I’ve seen him before, but I don’t remember his name. He’s very stern and austere, scary-faced, red eyes and white hair.”

  Holy shit. That sounds like Gavriel.

  He didn’t have a photo and it was unlikely that the Noxblade would allow his image to be captured anyway, so Raff drew the assassin from memory, using red pen to shade in the eyes. When he finished, he showed the portrait to Sky. “Is this the one?”

  “I think so. Come to think of it, I’m sure he was here when we first arrived. Bad-tempered, stuck close to Princess Thalia until he left with Magda.”

  Right, that’s confirmation. But why the hell would Gavriel kill me?

  Because he loves Thalia? Hates me? Wants me out of the picture? He took a bribe from Gilbraith? A plethora of possibilities rioted in his head, until it ached from the confusion.

  “You don’t look good.”

  “Tell me about it. Things just got a lot more complicated.”

  “Because…?”

  “My would-be murderer was Thalia’s right hand up until recently. His name is Gavriel, the former head of the Noxblades. He’s like a fucking ghost, he knows all Thalia’s secrets, and he’s familiar with Daruvar’s defenses.”

  “Shit,” Sky said.

  “My feelings exactly.”

  “What should we do?”

  “We’re alone here. Not the best scenario, I admit. I need to tell Thalia right away.”

  “She may not believe you,” Sky mumbled.

  “Even so, we have to prepare for the worst.” Raff stood then. “You get some rest. If you see anything else, come find me immediately.”

  It was late when he left the library, hungry as hell, tired and perturbed. He missed the warmth of Pine Ridge, too, especially with all the chilly Eldritch nods. None of the staffers he passed on the way to his room made eye contact, like they thought they’d turn to stone if they cracked a smile. Boundaries were serious business here.

  A worker was coming out of the suite with an armful of dirty linens as he approached. Raff smiled at her, and her eyes bulged as she took a hasty step back and bowed so low that she almost dropped the sheets. She flattened herself against the wall when he stepped past her, and he made sure to give her plenty of space because he smelled her fear.

  Most of them still think we’re animals.

  Coupled with the unresolved argument with Thalia and Sky’s cryptic, fearsome vision, this had been a completely shit day. The only good came from memorizing Titus’s codes, and he’d have to go out into the woods to read any word they left. Fair enough, he was sick of being cooped up inside anyway. Sighing, Raff closed the door behind him.

  The bedroom was empty, a fire crackling in the hearth. Dinner had been served in his absence, left to cool on the low table in the sitting area. Not long ago, he’d sat there with his wife leaning on his shoulder, eating and talking and laughing. Funny how easily he could conjure that mental image, but he didn’t know what to say when he saw her.

  Raff waited for an hour, but Thalia didn’t come. Angry all over again, he ate cold food, alone, in great furious bites. He even used the bread to sop up his gravy while glaring at her delicate slices of fruit and cheese. It was beyond him how she could survive on such dainty portions, just another reminder how different they were.

  He couldn’t bring himself to put her food out to be returned to the kitchen, though. Probably she’d slide in when she thought he was asleep and she might be hungry then, so he collected his dirty plate and glass and set them out while leaving her meal on the table, still covered by gilded mesh dome to keep nibbling pests away. Too early in the year for insects, but he’d bet good money these walls housed scampering rodents.

  To show proper penitence, he stretched out on the couch, though he couldn’t even lay properly. Hours later, Raff woke with a kink in his neck, cussing and aggravated. And his wife still wasn’t back. Stubborn woman. He stomped over to the bed and pulled back the covers, stirring a paper that had tumbled half-beneath the bed.

  The words scrawled on the page chilled him to the bone.

  26.

  Thalia and Ferith drove all night.

  Under normal circumstances, they could’ve stopped at a town or settlement to top up the Rover’s energy, but in times like these, it was better to run unseen. People would undoubtedly report strangers passing through, even if they didn’t recognize Thalia. While she wasn’t famous per se, it wouldn’t surprise her if Ruark had put her face on WANTED posters or broadcast her face for bounty-hunting purposes.

  When the Rover mini ran out of juice, they left it behind. Knowing where the mines were laid let them travel safely, and the drone guided them away from enemy troop movements. It still could, but progress would be much slower from here on out. They were still a hundred kilometers from their destination and Thalia was weighing the best plan for infiltration.

  Luckily, the cold snap had passed, so at least they wouldn’t risk freezing to death on the move. Dawn broke in the distance as Thalia pulled a layer of pine needles and fallen branches over their vehicle. If a passerby got curious about the abandoned Rover, it wouldn’t end well, especially not deep in Gilbraith territory. If she could shift like the Animari, it would make things immeasurably easier. Not only would that make it easier to travel unseen, but she could also sniff for mines and IEDs along the route.

  No point in wishing for impossible things.

  Plus, she didn’t want to think about the Animari because once that door was open, she might let Raff in, and he would distract her from this mission. Not an option.

  “What does the drone say? Did you find us a good route?”

  “Define good,” Ferith mumbled.

  “Relatively safe. Moving during the day holds some risk, but we can’t stretch this out over a week. Too much caution will get us caught, same as not enough.”

  Ferith cocked her head. “Are you telling me, or yourself? Sounds like you’re scared.”

  “To death,” Thalia admitted.

  “It would be worrisome if you weren’t. This is
an all-or-nothing endeavor.”

  “I know. Thank you for coming with me.”

  As she began to walk, following the path the drone had identified, Ferith nodded. “I’m the last of the old guard. So many Noxblades died getting the two of us here…there’s no way could I stop now, not like Gavriel did.”

  That sounded like a judgment. “He had personal reasons for not being able to walk with me any farther.”

  The other woman didn’t respond to that, and maybe it didn’t matter if Gavriel had been disloyal. She had wished to have him beside her during this mess, which might’ve been what he wanted—to instill some flicker of regret over his departure—but she’d only wanted his tactical strength, not his emotional support. And that was precisely why she’d cut him loose.

  “Stop stating the obvious, and let’s go,” Ferith said.

  They walked for ten kilometers, hard hiking cross country, when they spotted an isolated farmstead. According to the map, they were well past the border into Gilbraith territory. There would be no help coming from her own people, if she and Ferith ran into trouble, but they had to gamble here.

  The Rambler was old, years out of production, and beaten all to hell. This family probably needed the vehicle to take their produce to the nearest town. I’ll make it right later. Right now, these people were allied with her greatest enemy, even if that support came only in nominal form.

  She had all kinds of contingency plans, but the actual theft took no effort at all. They didn’t even need to hack anything; Ferith just hit the start button and they took off, sticking to secondary roads that should take them to Outwater, the town closest to Braithwaite.

  This will all be over soon, one way or another.

  Much later, Ferith parked the Rambler in a copse of trees. They slept for a few hours, and now, as twilight gathered, they’d walk the last two kilometers to Outwater and figure out the next stage of the plan. Thalia touched her hair uneasily, as it was both a beacon in the twilight and an identifying trait.