Night of the Wolf

by Sean Kikkert

  “You’re judging him, Castor!”

  “Look, Ajax is my friend, too,” Castor said. “He’s a good person in many ways. I really like him, honestly, I do. I’ve noticed that darker side to him, too, and I’m not going to be okay if his choices hurt you.” He brushed Cassandra’s hand with his fingers. “I’m just watching out for you, Cassandra. I only want you to be safe.”

  For the first time, Cassandra realized Castor must care about her—as more than a friend. How do I feel toward Castor? she asked herself. Cassandra realized she had feelings for him, even if they were not as strong or passionate as those she had for Ajax. Cassandra also understood she could be more than friends with Castor if it weren’t for Ajax.

  Lord Mayor Morton gave a resigned sigh as he walked into the town council meeting. The town hall was already packed: 500 disgruntled citizens were crammed shoulder-to-shoulder in the tiny wooden building. The meeting was literally overflowing with people, and there were a great many particularly unsavory characters loitering outside. These were not the concerned, conscientious citizens who normally attended such meetings—they looked more like a lynch mob. Morton also noticed that they all appeared to be under some hypnotic spell cast by their ringleader—the strange, beautiful young lady in the crimson cloak.

  Suspicion and jealousy rose up like bile inside Morton; quite clearly, this Red Riding Hood wanted to take over. She wanted to control the crowd, the town hall, perhaps even Morton himself. Doing his best to ignore the girl and her mob, Morton made his way to the podium.

  Morton had no sooner opened the meeting when Red Riding Hood pushed her way to the front and asked—no, practically demanded—to speak. And when she spoke, she did so with strong, deliberate, and carefully chosen words. Morton couldn’t help but be amazed at how she had the whole crowd wrapped around her little finger.

  “I have now discovered who our neighbors really are!” Red Riding Hood appeared quite proud of herself. “We don’t just have one ravening wolf in sheep’s clothing in our midst—or even just two, or five, or ten! No! Our land is infested with werewolves!” She paused amid the excited babble of the crowd and waited for it to die down. “We have an entire village out there in which every man, woman, and child is a werewolf. They hid who they were from us when they arrived. And we, being the foolish, kind, generous people that we are, gave them our own land to live on. But even that is not enough for their kind. Instead of sticking to their allocated spaces, they’ve been coming into our city, picking fights with our citizens, and beating innocent people.”

  The crowd murmured its agreement. “It’s an outrage!” a bearded man with rotting, yellow teeth yelled out.

  “People, people! Calm down—please!” Morton implored. “Werewolves aren’t real. And even if they were—a whole village full of them?” He attempted a dismissive smile. “Why, the very notion is absurd! Our new neighbors are just ordinary people. Of course, we will enforce the law—if any one of them has committed a crime, then they shall be punished. But please, let’s not make scapegoats out of an entire people.”

  Red Riding Hood was back on her feet in an instant. “You say there’s no such thing as werewolves?” The girl had to yell to be heard above the hubbub. “I’ve seen them with my own two eyes, Lord Mayor! My grandmother was murdered and eaten by a werewolf, and I almost died, too!” She eyed the crowd, playing them like a well-tuned instrument. “Why, just the other night, I saw a werewolf within the walls of this very city!”

  The crowd quieted.

  “We, as a people, are in grave danger. And it is ignorant, unbelieving people like you, Lord Mayor, that place us all at risk.” Red Riding Hood turned to address the crowd. “But I don’t want anyone in Brakchester to be murdered like my dear grandmother—at the hands of a werewolf. If the lord mayor won’t keep you safe, I will.”

  Morton cursed Red Riding Hood under his breath as the townsfolk erupted in a cacophony of noise. They cheered, applauded, and screamed for werewolf blood. The last thing Morton needed at that moment was for this pretty, charismatic young woman to be stirring up the good citizens of Brakchester.

  “I’ve made some enquiries, and I have achieved what our lord mayor could not,” Red Riding Hood continued.

  Morton cursed her once more beneath his breath—even more colorfully this time. Maybe the stupid little girl will be running for election as the lord mayor next, Morton thought to himself.

  Red Riding Hood smiled a gloating smile, and it was almost as if she knew what Lord Mayor Morton was thinking. “I’ve learned that the werewolf who attacked and injured our good friend Haelan is named Ajax,” she continued. “He’s been visiting our city more and more in recent weeks. He’s definitely up to something. I think it would benefit us all to get to know this Ajax a little better.”

  “What are we going to do about the wolves?” a frail, elderly man with fine wisps of graying hair cried out. Red Riding Hood stepped toward him, and he slumped back into his chair with fear settling in his rheumy old eyes.

  “I say we go down to their village and drive them from our land.” Red Riding Hood looked directly into the old man’s face.

  The crowd cheered loudly once more.

  Morton had taken about as much as he could from the insignificant young troublemaker who obviously thought she ran the government. “Wait!” he ordered. He gripped the sides of the podium. “We can’t just drive them out. Just think about what you’re saying here. Are you really suggesting that we force women, children, and the elderly from their homes without due cause?” He focused on the scant few among the crowd who he knew to be compassionate. “You know that many of them wouldn’t survive the journey to another land. Casting those poor people out would be as good as murdering them. This is not the kind of people we are, good citizens of Brakchester. Please, let’s be reasonable. These people have done nothing worse than get into a few fights. That is to be discouraged, of course, but fights break out in our city all the time. Let’s punish those responsible but leave the rest of them alone.”

  Red Riding Hood opened her mouth to speak.

  Doesn’t this woman ever shut up? Morton thought with disdain. “I think we’ve heard quite enough from you,” Morton barked at her. “We should hear what Sheriff Lyndon thinks about this issue.”

  Sheriff Lyndon walked up to the podium. He was a stocky, rough-looking man with broad shoulders and a stubble-filled face. Morton didn’t like the sheriff at all. He found the man to be cocky, abrupt, and even mean-spirited at times. Nonetheless, he was respected by the people and was actually an effective sheriff. Morton knew he had to keep the sheriff on his side—such was the tangled game of politics.

  “My lord.” The sheriff’s voice was gruff and blunt. “How about we send our neighbors a list of conditions? It is not unreasonable to set a number of rules that, if these people want to live on our land, they must abide by.”

  There was a murmur of approval among the crowd. Morton sighed wearily. “Very well,” he said. “Draft your demands, and we will deliver them to our neighbors.”

  That was all the invitation the mob needed. Egged on by Red Riding Hood, buzzing with excitement, they began drafting their list of conditions. And the more they discussed it—more often at the very top of their voices—the more onerous and burdensome that list became.

  Faye was picking flowers in her front garden when she noticed a shadow fall over the yellow lilies. She turned around to see her husband, Conrad, standing there. “How was your day?” Faye didn’t take her eyes off her flower arrangement.

  “Okay, I guess,” Conrad sighed. “But I’m not happy with our lord mayor. He’s been standing up for Telemachus’ people. He doesn’t care at all that our citizens don’t like them, and he doesn’t understand that we may need to sacrifice the newcomers to keep our own people happy. That’s just politics.”

  Faye kept on worki
ng. She’d prepared a pretty bouquet of yellow, pink, and white lilies. She was barely listening to her husband’s rant, but Conrad continued talking at her anyway.

  “I’m not happy either,” he said, “that the king is trying to be too kind, too fair. The people think he’s weak. If only King Magnus would listen to me, they would see him as strong. But Morton has the king’s ear more than I do,” Conrad said with bitterness.

  Faye turned around and stroked her husband’s arm. “Then maybe you need to do something to ensure that the king listens to you rather than Morton,” she told him. “Being the king’s advisor is far more important than being the lord mayor—you just need to show the king that.”

  “You’re right,” Conrad replied, staring blankly ahead. Faye knew that look, and she could almost imagine a plot beginning to form in his mind. “Soon the king will have forgotten that Morton even existed.”

  Chapter 13

  A cold mist hung in the air. Cassandra shivered. She was enjoying the solitude of a walk in the forest when she heard a twig snap in the distance. She froze at the sound, heart pounding.

  Cassandra heard the distinct sound of footsteps in the forest. They were coming closer and closer, but for as hard as she tried, Cassandra couldn’t see anything. She held her breath as someone rushed at her from behind. In the blink of an eye, Cassandra spun around with her mouth open, ready to scream. An icy chill ran down her spine as, sure enough, she saw a shadowy figure rushing toward her.

  “You!” she hissed. “What are you doing here?”

  “I really need to talk to you,” Ajax said. He offered her a sheepish, lop-sided grin. They shivered in unison as a cold breeze rushed over them.

  Cassandra shrugged. “Okay,” she said. He was still her friend—so why had a feeling of dread swept over her? It was then Cassandra realized she was actually afraid of Ajax. And she was alone in the forest with him. She slipped her trembling hands behind her back so Ajax wouldn’t notice.

  “Cassandra, I’m really sorry,” Ajax said. “I know I overreacted at the tavern. I guess I was just being overprotective of you.”

  Cassandra studied Ajax carefully but didn’t say a word.

  “Look, I know what I did was wrong.” Ajax tried to put his hand on Cassandra’s elbow. She pushed it off.

  “You shouldn’t be apologizing to me.” Cassandra’s face hardened. “You should be apologizing to the poor boy you hurt.”

  “I really wish I could, but I don’t even know who he is.” Ajax sounded genuinely remorseful. He stepped closer to Cassandra. Instinctively, she took a step back.

  “What? Are you scared of me now?” Ajax asked.

  Cassandra recognized the hurt in his voice but turned her back on him anyway.

  “I’m trying really hard to change my life,” he continued, “but I need your help. . . . I can’t do any of this without you.” Ajax took Cassandra by the shoulders and turned her to face him. He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Please—just give me another chance? Okay? You’re a good influence on me, Cassandra. You help me be a better person.”

  “Okay.” Cassandra was hesitant. “But things are going to be different between us from now on.” There was an uncharacteristic firmness to her voice. “I don’t want to go back to that tavern in Brakchester—ever. If you want to spend time with me, then it will be around my family, around our people, and on our land.”

  Ajax smiled at Cassandra. A strange smile, one of acquiescence, but it seemed insincere somehow. “Okay. Next time I see you, I’ll come to your home and spend time with your family.”

  This is going to be really awkward, Cassandra thought as she observed her mother glaring at the handsome young man who sat opposite her at the dinner table. Ajax ignored the frosty reception, remaining entirely focused upon devouring the roast boar on his plate. While Helen and Ajax managed to remain polite to each other, the conversation was quite stifled and formal to begin with. Helen’s mistrust was almost tangible as she eyed him with great suspicion.

  Nonetheless, Ajax worked hard to charm Helen and Harmonia, and slowly but surely, the ice began to melt. Harmonia stared in awe at the handsome young man, and Cassandra imagined that she was daydreaming of the time she herself would be bringing suitors home for dinner. Ajax was so attractive, so ruggedly handsome and confident, and he had a unique gift for putting people at ease.

  Cassandra saw that her mother was gradually letting her guard down and allowing herself to soften—just a little—around Ajax. However, when Cassandra glanced across the dinner table at Ajax, she saw a familiar impatience flicker across his face. When Helen wasn’t looking, Ajax nodded at Cassandra and mouthed, “Let’s get out of here.”

  It was then Cassandra realized Ajax’s smooth charm had all been an act.

  “Where are you taking me?” Cassandra asked once they were outside. The sun was setting slowly over the restless sea, draping the water with a fiery, orange-red glow; the view was breathtaking.

  “I thought maybe we could just howl at the moon tonight,” Ajax replied.

  Cassandra sighed with relief; yes, that sounded perfect.

  Ajax paused for a moment. “However, first I need to stop off at Brakchester.” His tone was tentative.

  Cassandra’s heart dropped. She groaned out loud as disappointment clouded her face. “You promised! Why did I think I could trust you, Ajax?”

  “It’ll just be for a moment,” Ajax assured her. “Then we’ll spend our time here—like I promised. Some of the townsmen have asked to have a secret meeting with me. I don’t know why they want to speak to me, and I don’t completely trust them. I could go on my own, but I think it’ll be best to have someone with me. That way, if I don’t come out of the meeting, at least someone knows what happened to me.”

  Cassandra was about to open her mouth to protest, but Ajax interrupted her.

  “Sorry, there’s really no time to explain—they’re waiting for me. If you don’t want to come with me, I’ll understand. But it’ll mean a lot to me if you do.” With that, Ajax jumped into the bushes and adopted his wolf form.

  Unsure of the best thing to do, Cassandra stood there in the dying sunlight for a moment. With a heavy sigh, she grudgingly made her way into another bush to transform into her lupine self. Then, before she knew it, Cassandra was on her way to the city she’d vowed never to revisit.

  “Just wait over here,” Ajax told her.

  They’d transformed back into human form upon arriving in a poorer part of the city. Ajax had found a secluded coppice and kept guard so Cassandra could change into the dress she kept in her backpack. Normally, she preferred Ajax to be farther away when she changed, but since the city scared her so, she was grateful to have him close by and guarding her—just as long as he didn’t let his eyes deviate from looking straight ahead.

  In the poorly paved street, which was covered with stagnant, silvery puddles, a raucous gang of ten-year-old children played knucklebones in the dirt. A mangy, black-and-white dog sniffed around for food scraps in the gutter. It scampered away with a whimper when it espied Cassandra and Ajax.

  Glancing around nervously, Cassandra shot Ajax an uneasy look. Ajax flashed her a reassuring smile.

  “This should only take a minute,” he promised. He then strode with purpose toward a small log house that boasted a straw-thatched roof.

  A giant of a man, dressed all in furs, guarded the door. He had vast, broad shoulders and an expansive, muscular chest. In his huge, meaty hands, he gripped a woodcutter’s axe. Evidently delighted to see Ajax, the big man threw down the axe and warmly grasped the boy’s hand in his. “Welcome, my friend,” he said.

  The man’s eyes flitted warily up and down the street as he greeted Ajax. They then met Cassandra’s.

  “It’s okay, she’s with me,” Ajax reassured him.

  Satisfied
with that, the guard nodded and opened the door just wide enough for Ajax to step in. He closed it again as soon as the darkness inside swallowed Ajax up, then resumed his sentry duty.

  Ajax re-emerged after a few minutes. Without saying a word, he made his way over to Cassandra and led her from the city.

  “So, are you going to tell me what that was all about?” Cassandra asked. “Why did the townsmen want to speak to you?”

  “Oh, it’s best if you don’t know.” Ajax gave her a devious smile.

  What are you up to, Ajax? Cassandra wondered to herself. Whatever it was—she was sure that it was nothing good.

  Chapter 14

  Cassandra’s eyes bulged as Ajax violently threw her to the ground.

  The lush, verdant grass cushioned her fall, but it was not enough to stop her left rib from letting out a loud crack; Cassandra knew from experience that her entire flank would be black and blue within a couple of hours.

  Cassandra and Ajax were surrounded by the village’s other youths, and they, too, were busy throwing their sparring partners to the ground. Telemachus had demonstrated at the beginning of the session how best to break a fall to avoid serious injury, but Cassandra clearly hadn’t gotten the technique right yet—with each fall, it felt as if her insides were caving in. She tried her very best to correct her technique but found it difficult to think about technique while hurtling through the air.

  Suddenly alert, Cassandra scrambled to her feet. A dull, rumbling sound filled the air—it sounded a lot like thunder in the distance. Like dominos in reverse, those on the ground jumped to their feet. In an instant, all the youths were standing with their curious eyes narrowed in the direction of the strange noise.