Terayan and the Laevuls broke contact. He fell to his knees, the stress of holding such powerful magic crashing over him in a wave of nausea and exhaustion.
The Laevuls knelt beside him. Sweat glistened on their faces.
“That should keep Rayna seeing only that which we want her to for some time, Tallis,” said Ezra. “When it fades, she will be ours.”
Amblin stood. He returned with a cup of mulled wine.
Terayan drank, letting the heat and spices fortify him. “I agree. We may now return our focus to other matters.”
“Losing Isaac pushed the boy over the edge,” said Amblin. “Just as planned.”
“Yes, but we must keep him that way until we are prepared.” Terayan stood, leaning against the wall. “Garrison tells me Amollo is continuing to grow his popularity among the people.”
“If we are to consolidate our power,” said Ezra, “he and the other Councilors will need to be removed.”
“Eventually.” Terayan inhaled the chamber’s musty scent. “But for now we need to keep Amollo, Darien, and Caere focused on outside threats, so they don’t perceive those from within. When Rayna arrives and we take her prisoner, we must make sure the other Councilors see her interference as sedition. We must organize the military for a strike against the Peninsulars, so that when the ritual is done, all will be at the ready.”
“And, as of now, we can’t declare war without the other Councilors’ consent.” Ezra poured herself a drink. “It would be simpler to assassinate them.”
Terayan shook his head. “Not until the time is right. All deaths serve a higher purpose, even theirs.”
“As you say, Tallis.” Amblin readjusted his hood. “Shall we finish for the evening? We’ve a Council meeting to attend in the morning.”
Terayan agreed, and soon he was back in his own chambers. He changed into his opulent satin sleeping clothes and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillows. In his dreams, he heard the same voice he'd heard almost all his life, repeating over and over.
Tallis Terayan. You are forever strong, forever free, forever mine.
Terayan woke, clutching his sheets. His vanity had caught fire. Heat rolled off it, threatening to ignite the bedclothes. He leaped up, raising his hands to bring the fire under his control. As it died down, hissing, the embers spoke.
The veil thins and our time nears. Soon we will be one.
The smoke blinked away, leaving his furniture unburnt.
Terayan felt restored, powerful, and energized. The veil thinned. The tear Rhael had made when he'd cast the Sionic Hex was spreading, and each day brought Terayan closer to his Ascension.
Chapter Nine
A few days of hard running brought Channon, Roxen, Gar, and Pike to Maenor's southern reaches. When Roxen insisted they pause for a few moments to eat, Channon had reluctantly agreed—if only to gather his thoughts.
Rayna's scent grew stronger by the moment. They were only a few leagues behind her. Soon, they would be face-to-face. What would he say to her? The question haunted him as he sat cross-legged and gnawed on his share of deer jerky.
A strange scent interrupted his thoughts. It smelled like wolves, but lighter.
Dogs. Roxen took his human form, nose twitching. And five, maybe six Maenoren riders headed our way.
What do we do? Hide? Pike sunk lower to the ground.
Channon shook his head. They had to have come in contact with Rayna and the others. We need to talk to them.
Or maybe, Pike added with a lip curl, these men did encounter them, but were less than welcoming. We are trespassing on Maenoren territory.
A growl rumbled in Channon's throat. What if she were already hurt? What if he were already too late?
The Maenorens are our allies now, Pike. When I traveled to Alvorn they showed me hospitality. Maenorens would now do the same for Rayna, Katrine, and Mina. Gar seemed confident, but it did little to assuage Channon's worry.
Roxen sighed. All right, you’re right, but I don’t like it. How do you want to approach this?
I suggest we approach this like we would when we pass onto any strange territory. We should announce our presence, said Gar. He raised his head and howled.
The six Maenorens galloped over the hill toward them.
Channon and Roxen raised their hands. The True Wolves softened their posture and pinned back their ears.
“You there! Wolfkind! Don't move!” one of the men yelled. Their five hounds barked and paced in a frenzy at their masters’ sides. The men dismounted and left the wide-eyed, frothing horses tied to a tree.
“We don't mean any harm. We're looking for three women that passed this way. Have you seen them?” Roxen said.
“We might’ve seen a few wenches.” A Maenoren said fingered the blade at his waist.
Roxen flinched at “wenches” but managed to speak in a friendly tone. “Well, that’s good news. Do you have any idea where they went from here?”
“Shut up, wolfkind.” The first man unsheathed his sword. “We’re going to be the ones asking the questions here. This is our land.”
Roxen chewed his lip. “We understand we're trespassing, but I assure you we would not do so if it weren’t for a very good reason.”
“Funny, that’s what the wenches said, too. Right, Garick?” the first Maenoren said as the other men laughed.
“ ‘Cept this time Swann’s not here to tell us to play nice.” The man called Garick grinned as he placed his blade against Channon’s neck.
Channon glanced at the sword, before returning his now-lupine eyes to Garick’s. “Big mistake, friend.”
As the Maenoren turned to laugh, Channon sprang into action. He shifted and charged Garick, knocking away his sword.
Roxen took his wolf form. He disarmed the other aggressive Maenoren and bowled him over onto his back.
Channon was a hair away from snapping his jaws around Garick’s neck before Roxen slammed into him.
Don’t kill any of them! he barked before leaping onto one of the other men.
Channon growled his dissent, but he obeyed. He kept Garick pinned, but controlled his instinct to tear the man’s throat out.
Pike had all of the hounds cowering, his eyes burning and tail high in a sign of absolute dominance. The Maenorens may not have spokenWolven, but their dogs did.
“Useless animals!” one of the Maenorens yelled as he threw himself at Gar.
The true wolf Alpha slid to the side, letting the Maenoren’s own momentum take him to the ground.
Channon shifted. He pressed his boot over Garick's throat. “Drop your weapons, or I will crush his windpipe!” He pushed his foot harder, eliciting a hoarse cry of pain.
The Maenorens dropped their weapons.
Roxen crossed to Channon. “None of us want to hurt you—”
“I do,” Channon interrupted. These men attacked them. Channon wanted to make them pay. Only the fact that prolonging the fight would keep him from finding Rayna kept him still.
Roxen shot Channon a quieting look. “You’re our allies now. I wish to honor that. We need you to let us pass, and tell us anything you know about the other Fenearens who came through here.”
“All right,” Garick said hoarsely, “call off your dogs and we’ll tell you what we know.”
“You're fortunate Gar and Pike don’t understand Clanspeak. They’d gut you if they knew you compared them to those sniveling creatures.” Channon gestured to the dogs that whined and shook under the wolves’ gaze.
All right, let them up but be careful. Roxen communicated to the Trues.
Pike and Gar allowed the Maenorens and hounds to their feet.
“Like we told you, they went through here. The noble we were escorting, Alec Swann, has a weak spot for pretty women, even if they're foreign. So he offered them his carriage.” Garick's voice was even but his dark eyes burned with hatred.
“Where were they going?” Channon asked.
Couldn't say for sure. They wanted to avoid you,” G
arick sneered.
Roxen held Channon back. “Please, if they took a carriage we might lose their scent. Where would Swann take them?”
“Perhaps west,” one of the men offered. “Swann's manor is called Elkenford.”
“And you swear this is the truth?” Channon growled, stepping into Garick's space to remind him of the height difference between them.
Garick threw his head up to look Channon in the eyes. “I swear it.”
With a nod from Roxen, Channon backed off as Gar and Pike did the same.
“On your way then, men. We appreciate your help.” Roxen sighed as the men mounted their horses and continued south.
Channon snorted. Our brave and loyal allies. Do you believe them?
Not sure, Roxen admitted. Let's try to track this carriage and see.
Despite the carriage's fast pace, the next day wore on slowly for Rayna. Lord Swann was keen to point out every landmark as they traveled. Although Rayna appreciated his abundant hospitality, she could not relax within Maenoren borders. The painful, fatty scent of the country had not changed. Every breath sent Rayna back to the night Maenorens killed her mother—or to more recent horrors, like shaking in her chambers in Anhorde as she listened for Rhael's heavy boot-steps
Rayna shivered. Returning Anhorde hadn't bothered her until she considered it would be the same dark, jagged castle where she'd been trapped—where Coer had died for her. She took a deep breath and forced herself back into the present. Coer’s gentle face—his freckles and dark blue eyes—still burned into her brain.
“You all right, Wolfie?” Mina asked lowly.
Rayna nodded and exhaled, forcing all negative associations with Maenor out with the breath. The wind had shifted, blowing scents northward. She could not scent Channon or the others. Whatever Swann's men had done must have been successful. “Lord Swann?”
He turned to her with an expectant smile.
“Forgive me for asking, but you're certain your men wouldn't have hurt our friends?”
He waved aside her question. “No. I'll admit they are a bit rough around the edges, but they're good soldiers. They'll follow orders and make sure your friends are safe, but headed in the wrong direction. Which, I must repeat, is an odd request.”
“I know,” Rayna said. “Once I speak with Seperun, I'll explain what I can.”
Apparently satisfied with her non-answer, Swann returned to his narration of the scenery.
Katrine’s eyes focused on Swann as he prattled out story after story. In the few moments he stopped to breathe, Katrine was quick to ask a question. Anyone else may have tired of Katrine’s restless curiosity, but Lord Swann didn’t seem to mind. Although, Rayna suspected he would go on endlessly—whether he had an enthralled audience or not.
“And that is why you never bet against a Soulousian when it comes to the weather.” Katrine laughed as Swann continued. “A fitting time for that story to end! We have almost reached our destination. As soon as we crest this last hill, Anhorde will be visible.” He broke off with a chuckle as Katrine stuck her head through the carriage window.
Rayna and Mina rolled their eyes as they peered out, somewhat less enthusiastically.
What was once the Overlord’s palace had changed since Rayna’s last visit. The Viper’s crests and heavily armed guards were gone. Instead, market stalls lined the road to the main gate. Colorfully dressed Maenorens traded and smiled. The castle was still the threatening obsidian monolith that had so terrified Rayna months before. Yet, now that the Overlord and his regime were gone, she found herself able to appreciate Anhorde's sharp, majestic beauty. Rayna recalled how long ago, she'd noticed Rhael’s angular beauty. If the man had not been so hideously cruel—had he possessed a different soul—he would have been the most handsome man in the world.
Anhorde now had a different soul. Rhael’s cold authority was gone, replaced with Markus Seperun's guidance.
Although Rayna had only met him once, she trusted in his wisdom and kindness. After all, it was Markus Seperun who had led the Resistance that allowed Coer to save her from Rhael’s machinations. Seperun grieved Coer as she did. He would understand why Rayna could not turn her back on another friend, especially in light of her dreams.
Seperun would help them. He had to.
Channon, Roxen, Gar, and Pike followed the road the carriage had traveled for barely a league when they reached a three-way fork. One path led west, another north, and the last pointed east. Channon dug his snout into the sandy ground, searching for Rayna's scent, but the stench of horses and other livestock overpowered whatever traces had drifted from the carriage.
Do you have anything? he asked the others.
No, Pike growled. All I smell are all the strange deer these Maenorens keep.
I wish I could say we believe the Maenorens and head west, said Roxen, but they didn't seem the most trustworthy lot.
Gar's ears pricked forward. That leaves one option. We split up. Channon goes the western route, Roxen the north, and Pike and I will travel east. Once one of us finds the trail, we double-back and meet by the stream we passed not long ago.
That could take hours! Channon protested.
I know, said Gar. But what other choice do we have? If we all go in the same direction and we're wrong, we risk losing even more time.
Channon bristled, but Gar was right. Fine, but we meet back here by nightfall, and one of us better have a lead. Without waiting for confirmation, Channon sprinted down the western road.
Hours later, with no sign of Rayna or the carriage, Channon made his way back to the rendezvous location. He cursed the lying Maenorens. Had he found the trail, he wouldn't have wasted time returning for the others. He only hoped that the others had not harbored the same plan.
He trotted into the creek-side mulberry grove Gar had mentioned earlier. He was the last to return.
Roxen had built a fire and Pike and Gar nibbled on a pheasant.
Well? Channon collapsed by his friends. Despite his frustration, he could not deny his hunger and exhaustion.
They're going north, said Roxen. It took me most of the day and I never caught their trail, but I spoke with a few merchants. They saw a carriage carrying three foreign women. They were taking the most direct route to Anhorde.
Of course. Channon shifted and sat cross-legged by Roxen. She's going to ask Seperun for help. Why didn't I think of that?
Fortunately for us, Roxen said as he handed him a pheasant, Silver did.
What do you mean?
The Alphena sent a falcon to Seperun right after we left. If Rayna, Mina, and Katrine are in Anhorde, Seperun will make certain they don't leave before we arrive.
For the first time since this journey had begun, Channon felt some measure of relief. They would reach Anhorde the next day. Thank the gods for that.
Thank Silver, Gar corrected him.
True enough. Channon ate his pheasant quickly and warmed his hands over the fire.
Roxen stood. I'll re-fill the waterskins. He clasped Channon's shoulder before walking down to the nearby stream.
Channon wanted to leave for Anhorde right away, but he could not deny he needed rest. He pictured Rayna, trapped in Anhorde as she'd been once before. He hated that he wanted her that way.
Pain singed his fingertips. He snatched them away from the biting flames.
Gar glanced at him, but Pike was too engrossed in his remaining scraps to notice.
You all right? Gar’s yellow eyes reflected the fire.
Channon nodded. I think being in Maenor has me distracted.
Gar grunted. That’s one way to say it. I never thought I’d step a paw on this land, but here we are.
Pike raised his head from the bone he gnawed. I don’t like it here. There aren’t enough trees, and the animals here are odd. So many of them are kept imprisoned behind those fences—why don’t they leap over them?
They’re domesticated, Pike, said Channon. It’s not uncommon in other countries.
It’s
cheating. Pike pinned back his ears. They raise their food for slaughter, instead of hunting it themselves—where’s the honor in that?
There isn’t any. Roxen returned from a nearby stream with an armload of full waterskins. But our ways seem strange to them, I'm sure.
Channon stood. He helped Roxen place the skins inside their packs.
“Channon.” Roxen’s Clanspeak voice surprised him. They’d both been speaking Wolven exclusively for the past few days. “Come with me.”
Gar and Pike watched them attentively. Something wrong? asked Gar.
No, said Roxen. Just a personal matter I need to discuss with Channon. We’ll be back in a moment. He gestured for Channon to follow.
They walked to the stream—a tributary to the Camilar. Vibrant green moss coated the banks and dragonflies alighted on the calmer pools.
“What don't you want to say in front of the Trues?” Channon leaned against one of the grove’s larger trees.
Roxen crossed his arms. “When we came across those Maenorens, you treated them like enemies.”
Channon snorted. “Whereas they were nothing but welcoming? They called us wolfkind and lied to us. They cost us most of the day!”
“That may be, but you cannot control how others behave, only how you respond. Those men were rude and duplicitous, but you nearly killed them.”
“I—”
Roxen spoke over him. “Tell the truth, Channon. Had I not been there, what would you have done?” Roxen’s hazel eyes burned into him.
Channon turned away from his intense stare. “You were there. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does.”
“I was angry.” Channon swallowed. “I thought they might have hurt Rayna and the others.”
“Did you? I didn’t see any wounds on them.” Roxen shook his head. “Have you so little faith in Rayna to believe she would not so much as leave a scratch if she were attacked?”
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