A tremor of panic worked its way up his spine.
How long had he been asleep? What had the Mirror King done in the aftermath of their dramatic escape? Had he come after Myra? Had he gone after Sterling's pack?
Unwilling to hide from the truth any longer, Sterling forced his eyes open, pushing himself up despite the weakness weighing him down.
Sterling was fighting a losing battle with the blanket wrapped snuggly around him when the door opened and a dark-haired woman in Healer's green robes walked in.
"Easy, easy," she murmured soothingly, placing a stilling hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure you're feeling much better, but you still need rest to recover fully."
Despite her size and delicate appearance, the woman was deceptively strong. Or, perhaps, Sterling was weaker than he'd like to admit.
Sterling ceased struggling and put all his remaining strength into demanding answers.
"What's going on? Where's Myra? How long have I been here?" He stopped suddenly to take in the unfamiliar surroundings. "Where am I?"
The Healer smiled with exasperation and, for a moment, she looked so familiar, Sterling struggled to remember her name.
But he didn't remember ever meeting her before.
"Let's start with the last question first," she suggested, interrupting Sterling's contemplation. "You are in the home village of the Mountain Clan. My name is Helena. I'm the Clan Healer. You've been here about a week."
While she spoke, she fluffed one of pillows that had fallen to the floor in his struggle with the blankets and tucked it behind him. Before he realized she was managing him, he sank back into a reclining position under her guiding hand.
"Myra's taken to brooding away her afternoons up by the aerie, so I imagine that's where she is now. Sunset's not long off, so she'll be down soon for dinner. As for what is going on—"
Helena paused, lips pursed as she considered her words and Sterling knew, without a doubt, he wasn't going to get the whole story.
"Well, you were in bad shape when Myra landed with you. Because of the wolfsbane, we had to pull out a few magic tricks to heal you. You've been sleeping through your recovery ever since."
"Has the Mirror King retaliated? He's fixated on Myra. And my pack—" Guilt that he'd forgotten his pack even for a second swept through him, and Sterling once again fought to lever himself out of bed.
And Helena once again stopped him.
"There's been no sign of the Mirror King so far. Our Clan Chief sent a message to Ardell, warning them with what we knew. We haven't received a return message yet, so no word on your pack."
Sterling didn't bother to hide his wince at the news that Ardell had been informed of his escapades. His pack was going to be upset when they found out what he'd undertaken on his own without sharing the details. And the lecture he'd get from Kyn was going to be long and furious.
None of that was the most pressing matter at the moment, however.
He needed to see Myra for himself.
She'd risked a great deal to save him and he needed to make sure she was all right.
"Where are my clothes?" Sterling demanded, once more trying to sit up and push past the limits of his exhausted body. "I need to find Myra."
Helena clucked her tongue with sharp frustration and positioned herself directly in his way.
"What you need is rest and a hearty meal to regain your strength." She paused, amusement licking around the edge of her irritation. "The clothes you were wearing when you arrived didn't survive your wounds. I'll have someone find something that will fit you. After you've eaten and rested enough that you won't fall over the second you stand up."
She turned and swanned out of the room without giving Sterling a chance to argue.
He glared futilely after her for a moment. Then he tugged at the heavy quilt draped over him, trying to figure out if there was any way he could twist and tie it into a robe.
***
Myra sat sideways on the top step leading up onto the aerie. Legs drawn up to her chest and chin tucked on her knees, she stared across its wide expanse.
Every time she settled up here, an itch pulled at her. Made her want to tug on the silver strings of magic and release her full form. Made her want to give in to the phantom flex of missing wings and breathless need to launch herself into the currents of air above.
And, every time, she ignored the overwhelming urges.
So far, no one had asked any more questions about her clan. And she didn't want to risk reminding them about the mystery in their midst. Or, worse, risk someone else with gifts like Helena seeing more than they should.
Myra had spent so much time pretending that part of her didn't exist. She had no idea what to do about it now that she knew how exhilarating and fulfilling it could be.
But the bittersweet reminders of what she could be wasn't the reason she secluded herself up here.
Helena insisted hovering over Sterling every minute of every day was unhealthy for both of them. She allowed Myra a couple of hours in the morning to sit with Sterling. To watch his unnaturally still form and count his breaths and track the healing progress of his wounds.
Then the Healer would drag her away, to a secluded workshop beneath the healing rooms. There, she'd lead Myra through exhausting exercises, teaching her how to connect with and direct the flowing power at her core.
Then, after lunch, insisting Myra needed fresh air and sunshine, Helena would kick her out of the healing rooms altogether.
So Myra would hike up the steep steps and settle in until dinnertime. Losing herself in worrying about Sterling.
When he'd wake up.
If he'd wake up.
What he'd have to say about the secrets she'd revealed. How much he'd push to find out the ones she kept buried even deeper.
In her heart, Myra knew his questions didn't matter as long as he did wake up. He'd only been in her life a few short days, but she wasn't ready to let him go. Wasn't sure she ever would be.
The circling aura of grim premonition Myra had been ignoring the past two days wasn't helping her hold on to optimism.
Footsteps on the stairs forced Myra's attention back to the real world once again.
Watching the Healer climbing toward her set Myra's heart racing with panic. Helena had never come up here after her before. Had teasingly referred to it as Myra's quiet time and had left her alone.
So, if she was here, now, something must have changed.
Was something wrong with Sterling? Had Myra made a mistake with the magic? Had she missed some speck of wolfsbane?
Before she could ask a single question, Helena smiled reassuringly. Then the Healer settled next to her and announced, "He's awake."
A heavy breath of relief exploded out of Myra and she rushed to stand up, but Helena stopped her.
"He's fine," she stressed. "But it's better if you wait until after dinner to see him. He's still weak and tired. He needs a meal and rest. If you go down there now, he's going to refuse to do either until he talks to you. Until he figures out what happened and how you both survived. He's already got dozens of questions lined up. And talking to you is only going to lead him to more."
Helena paused, making sure she had Myra's full attention.
"Are you ready for that conversation?"
Myra sagged back against the step.
She wasn't ready to talk to Sterling about any of what happened in the Mirror King's lair. Not when they were in there together. And, especially, not when she was Taken all those years ago.
Because that conversation was going to change everything.
Sterling was the first person since her mother not to look at her like she was a freak.
Not for living alone on the outskirts of civilization. Not for the magic he suspected she had. Not even for being one of the Taken.
But when Sterling heard the full story... When he found out exactly how much her experience with the Mirror King had changed
her...
Myra couldn't stand the thought of him looking at her with that same pitying disdainful stare she received from every villager along the Winding Road.
"Secrets are powerful things," Helena said, staring off into the distance. "They can keep us safe. But they can keep us caged, as well."
The bone-deep pain in Helena's voice made Myra's heart ache in sympathy.
"Do you have secrets?" she asked carefully.
Helena's lips pulled into a tight, sad smile. "Oh, yes. And they get heavier every day."
Myra had no idea what to say. Or if she needed to say anything at all.
Instead of speaking, she settled back onto the step and let the quiet seep around them.
She lost track how long they sat there, each lost in their own thoughts. But the sun was sinking low and casting purple shadows across the village when movement dragged Myra's attention back to the world around her.
And her heart leapt at the sight of Sterling, taking every step with slow determination.
Myra rushed to her feet, but Helena once again stopped her from rushing down the stairs.
"I see you found some clothes after all," the Healer announced, sounding both annoyed and amused, when he halted a couple steps below them.
Myra, blushing, remembered the guards clearing away Sterling's tattered, blood-soaked fabric before healing. Now, a closer look showed that his shirt was too tight in the shoulder, too loose around the middle.
"Don't worry, I cleaned my plate first," Sterling assured her with a smug smile. "When Alna realized I was leaving no matter what, she reluctantly agreed that actual clothes would be better than just a quilt wrapped around me."
"Well, the neighborhood has been recycling the same gossip for a month now. A stranger walking down the street in nothing but a blanket would give them something new to talk about," Helena suggested with a smirk. Then her brow furrowed as she examined Sterling's movement more closely. "You're looking much sprier than I would have expected, given your state when I left the healing rooms."
"There are benefits to being linked to the lunar cycles," Sterling explained with a shrug. Then he lifted up the loose hem of his shirt, exposing chiseled muscles and faint scars where his wounds had still been healing that morning.
He dropped his shirt, jerked his head toward the full moon, already shimmering in the twilight sky.
"The healing started to accelerate as soon as the moon began to rise. When I stepped outside under its light, it really kicked in."
His attention slipped away from Helena and locked on to Myra.
"How are you?" The question was low and raw and full of concern.
"Me?" Myra asked in surprise. "You're the one who nearly died."
Sterling moved up one more stair, putting them eye to eye, and carefully took her hand in his.
"Alna said you're the reason I'm not dead. Thank you." His gaze was sincere, grateful and overwhelming.
"Yeah, well, I'm apparently even more of a freak than I realized," she answered with a hard swallow, turning her head in a futile attempt to hide.
Sterling's palm curved around her jaw and he gently guided her face back to his.
"You have never been a freak," he stated with defiant insistence. "You're amazing and beautiful and compassionate. And I owe my life to you twice over."
A wave of affection melted through Myra, staggering her with its fierceness and she gave in to need.
Wrapping her arms around Sterling's shoulders, she pressed her face into his neck and just breathed.
Let herself forget Helena beside them.
Let herself forget the Mirror King.
Forget the secrets and lies.
Forget the world existed beyond the two of them, here, now, together.
But the world refused to be forgotten.
The somber hum of unease Myra had been feeling surged into a dark, demanding spike of danger.
And, below them, on the eastern edge of the village, a cry of alarm rose up to shatter the peaceful quiet of dusk.
Chapter Twelve
SHOUTS OF ALARM echoed up from the east side of the village. Beyond the cries, Sterling recognized the heavy, rumbling stomp unique to the Ice Trolls as the Mirror King's Troll army marched towards them.
"I have to go," Sterling said regretfully as he let go of Myra. "The Ice Trolls are attacking the village."
And if the Trolls were here, the Mirror King wasn't far behind. Sterling wasn't going to let him get anywhere near Myra.
"They're here because of us," Myra whispered, face pale and eyes wide. "Because of me."
"They're here because the Mirror King is a megalomaniacal monster. This is not your fault."
But Myra, already shifting from fearful to resolute, squared her shoulders and lifted her chin with unflinching resolve.
"I'm going with you. I need to help protect the village."
She looked both terrified and fiercely determined. Sterling wanted to tell her no. To insist she stay safe.
But she'd proven herself tough in a fight, even without training or skill. And this was her battle as much as his.
"You'd be more useful to me in the healing rooms," Helena interrupted, before Sterling could sort out what he wanted to say, let alone find the words. "There are plenty of warriors in the village. And I'm sure Theodoric has already sent word to the other enclaves, so there'll be more on the way. But there's only Alna and me to aid the wounded."
Myra bit her lip, hesitating a moment before nodded in acquiescence.
Unable to help himself, Sterling reached out to hug Myra one more time. Memorizing the feel of holding her close.
Then, not giving in to the urge to look back, Sterling rushed down the stairs and raced toward the shouts and roars and sounds of battle.
The ground around the Mountain Clan's home village was rocky and unforgiving. Yet the Trolls were barely slowed by obstacles that would have thwarted a human army.
The warriors of the Clan met the front wave beyond the outskirts of the village. Some fought with sword and armor, others with talons and teeth and flame.
Unfortunately, the Mirror King had learned something from Myra's escape, because an invisible shield of magic seemed to absorb the dragons' flame.
At first, the Trolls shrank from the blazing breath. But they grew bolder and more daring each time the fire was extinguished before reaching their fur.
The frenzy of battle, coupled with the insistent call of the full moon pulled on Sterling's wolf until he gave in and transformed.
As soon as all four grey paws hit the ground, Sterling rushed into the fight. Darting in and out of the front line, he deftly avoided the blue-marked chieftains and their poison claws whenever possible.
As the wolf, he was faster and more agile than the lumbering Ice Trolls. Even more importantly, he found his teeth and claws particularly well suited for penetrating the Troll's armorlike hide.
Among a squad of drakes defending the base of the villages easternmost aerie Sterling caught a flash of bright, distinctive hair reflecting the flames of dragon and torchlight. He'd fought with Theodoric at the battle of Alcys and the auburn hair stood out, even in the middle of a skirmish.
As quickly as he could, Sterling made his way through the fight, transforming back to human once he reached the Clan Chief's side.
"Where do you need me?"
"It depends," Theodoric growled with frustration. "Can you take down a magic forcefield?"
Understanding the Clan Chief's vexation, Sterling shook his head regretfully. "I'm afraid not. But if you take down whoever is creating it, it should fail. Targeting the Mirror King should do it."
"As far as we've been able to tell, he's not with them."
The offhand announcement took Sterling by surprise. But he should have realized that someone who used Ice Trolls to hunt children would be a coward. There'd be time to track the Mirror King down later. First, they had to find a way to defeat
his army of Trolls.
"According to what I've picked up," Sterling said thoughtfully, "that kind of shield relic would need to be fairly close the front line to work reliably. If the Mirror King isn't there, one of the Trolls must be wielding the magic."
Feeling a rush of need to get into the thick of things and end it swiftly, Sterling added, "Get me closer to the Trolls and I might be able to sniff out the relic."
Theodoric cast a surprised glance his way before shaking his head. "Not a chance. Even I can smell the wolfsbane from here."
"Yes," Sterling admitted, trying not to flinch at the memory of agony. There were bigger things at stake here. "But, we brought this fight to your door. I'm willing to risk it."
"We're holding our own, and reinforcements are already starting to arrive." Theodoric tilted his head back to point out the single brown drake flying overhead only to frown. "There should be more. And I don't recognize the form."
"I do," Sterling said with a grin, recognizing not only the dragon, but the man he carried with him. Kaile's platinum hair was nearly as distinctive as Theodoric's.
"It's Jelverck. And he brought a friend."
Sterling and Theodoric rushed up the steps to the small aerie, standing out of the way and watching as Jelverck landed gracefully before transforming.
As much as Sterling had missed his friends, there was no time for a reunion. After quick reintroductions, he got straight to the point.
"What are you two doing here?"
Kaile arched an eyebrow at him before explaining.
"As soon as we got word from Theodoric about what happened to you, Caleb sent us ahead to help."
The hard look Sterling received from Kaile made it clear at some point he'd be hearing about his decision to seek out the Mirror King alone.
"We stopped for the night at one of the Mountain Clan's lower enclaves, planning to fly the rest of the way in the morning. We'd barely sat down for dinner when a messenger arrived with news that the home village was under attack. They were still organizing the wing when we left, but they should only be a few minutes behind."
While Kaile caught them up, Jelverck stared over the side of the aerie, taking in the full view of the battle.
The Snow Wolf (Wolves Ever After Book 1) Page 9
