by Jayden Woods
*
Sean lingered by the campfire long after Mina’s departure. He did not know what to do next, and even if he did, he would not have the strength to do it. It took all his strength just to gather some bramble from the forest and light another fire. Then he leaned against a tree, staring into the flames and feeling his eyelids sag with exhaustion. At last, a peaceful sleep washed over him.
He jerked awake at the sound of a twig snapping in the forest.
The fire was low now, barely strong enough to cast a ring of orange light past his feet. He squinted and tried to adjust his eyes to the blackness. He heard a body moving closer, but only barely. It moved so with incredible stealth, like a breeze stirring through the leaves.
The person took shape in the dim light of the fire, slowly and softly, as if the figure grew out of the flames themselves. Standing there was a woman, her body lean and muscular, wrapped tightly with a leather suit. When she moved, the suit glittered with a hundred shards of metal. She leaned down to the fire and blew into it. The flames grew and multiplied, blazing up to the canopy. The heat washed over him like a furnace. The woman turned and smiled at him, her eyes gleaming red.
“Shora!” he gasped. “It can’t be!”
The Wolven grinned back at him, her teeth glinting in the light. “Hello, little brother.”
“Where have you … ? How are you … ?”
“Hush.” She walked closer to him and put her wiry hands against his face. Her nails scratched his grizzled chin as she studied him. “I can see that you have little strength.”
“Yes. But … but … !”
“Hush, I said.” She leaned close and embraced him. She smelled like soot and ashes. He wanted to embrace her back, but he couldn’t find the strength—or perhaps the will—to do so.
She seemed to forgive him as she drew back and smiled at him once more. “Sean. I have traveled the world far and wide. I have seen so many things … wondrous things. The world is so much bigger than we ever imagined it to be. Did you know that the Three Nations form one of the smallest continents on the planet?”
He just shook his head helplessly.
“I have seen Norsidia, Sean. The place in Father’s book? I saw it with my own eyes. There are many races there, many people who communicate with the gods. And there are so many gods. I never even imagined there were so many! Oh Sean, I don’t know how to begin explaining it all. All I can say is that leaving Wolven Mountain was the best decision I ever made. I have learned so much—more than most people learn in many lifetimes. I have communicated with the gods, and they have blessed me with their wisdom.”
Sean did not know what to say to her. He preferred thinking she had gone crazy to thinking that her words held any truth.
Her face became grave. “There’s an important reason I returned to the Three Nations, however. There are not many Wolvens left, brother—a few dozens, perhaps, spread over various continents. We are feared and hunted wherever we go. But that is not even the most important thing. Father may not have known much about the outside world, but he was right about one thing: there is only one Violenese left in all the world. And she is Princess Fayr.”
Sean gulped thickly.
“You understand, of course, what this means? The Wolvens and Violenese are sworn enemies. Fayr is the spawn of Friva. We are the children of Belazar. It is up to you and I, the only Wolvens left in the Three Nations, to finish what our ancestors started. We must kill Fayr, so that Friva may never reawaken. I would have left the task to you, brother. But Belazar told me that you lost your way, so I came here to help you.”
Sean could not stand any more of her nonsense. He shoved her away from him, even though the movement made him grunt with pain. “I don’t need your help! You’ve lost your mind, Shora. Belazar told you? You sound like a fucking lunatic.”
Shora grew very still. Then a hellish light flared into her eyes. She snarled, bearing teeth that looked razor sharp. Her fingers wrapped round his throat, pinching his skin, poking it with nails like knives.
“You’re the one who lost your way, Sean.” Her voice had changed drastically. What a moment ago had been the soft, feminine voice of his sister now resembled the growl of a beast. It grated like two stones scraping together, all breath and guttural chafing, no recognizable voice remaining. “Look at you, Wolven! You are nothing without me. Your body is broken, and it will remain so if you do not come to your senses. You spurned my offer, and see how the balance rewards you for it?”
Shora let go of him, though that hardly mattered anymore. Sean had never known such fear as what gripped him now. He melted back into the tree in absolute terror.
“You could still have my power, Sean. If you ask my forgiveness, and swear to me the life that is already mine, I will give you the strength of ten thousand men. I will give you more than that, Wolven. No arrow will ever harm you again. You can scale the tallest towers in a single leap. You can bend fire and lightning to your will. You will command the night: as it belongs now to the moon, so shall it belong to you.”
Sweat beaded across Sean’s forehead. He tried to wipe it away, but his arm trembled violently. “You … you already have Shora,” he gasped. “Why do you want me?”
“Because I want what I want.” Shora’s lips curled with a sneer. She reached out and brushed Sean’s cheek with her nails. “And I want your hands to be the ones that squeeze Fayr’s blood from her heart.”
“I … I won’t do it.” Sean’s teeth chattered now as if Shora thrust him under icy water, even as his forehead continued to drip sweat. “I won’t do it!”
Shora hissed and reached out to grab his neck again. She pushed him against the tree until he feared his spine would break. His head spun, and then darkness swept over the glare of fire. He fell scrambling into oblivion.
When he awoke, a soft dawn lit the frost of the morning. The fire had burned itself out, leaving nothing but ashes. A cold wind snaked through his clothes. His horse grazed nearby, biting through the frost and snorting with frustration.
Sean pushed himself up with a groan. His head ached as if a hammer struck his temples with every beat of his pulse. He had grown accustomed to discomfort, but the fearful sensation in his gut was worse than any of his pain.
He looked around his camp in a panic. He found no signs of a visitor in the night. Had Shora really come to visit him? Had it been a dream? Or did it even matter? Either way, Belazar had spoken to him. And the message was clear.
Sean dragged himself to his horse and rummaged through the saddlebag. He found a vial of Discipline and studied it in the light of the sun. He did not like taking drugs, but this would at least get rid of his pain for a little while, or make him oblivious to it. And he needed to ignore his pain long enough to do what he had to do.
Belazar wanted Fayr’s life, and he would stop at nothing to obtain it; Sean knew that now. He may have failed her brother, but he would not fail her the same way. He would do what he could to protect her.
He drank the foul potion, gagging as it went down. Next he searched his bag for the brown lenses and slipped them over his eyes, one by one.
Then he climbed onto his horse and rode for the palace.
20
Punishment
