Warlords, Witches and Wolves: A Fantasy Realms Anthology

by Michelle Diener

  “What are you asking the witch for?” he asked softly.

  “I want the ability to shift. To protect myself.”

  “I’ll protect you.”

  “You can’t be there all the time. It’s not your job.”

  He growled, eyes flashing possessively. “It should be. I should never have let you be taken.”

  “I should be able to protect myself as all the other wolves can.”

  “There are other ways to keep yourself safe.”

  “Don’t.” She held up her hand. “Don’t try to dissuade me. I’ve made up my mind.”

  A heavy sigh. Then, “If you want to see the Ice-Witch, then I won’t stop you.”

  “You won’t?”

  “No.” He stood, his big body crowding the room. His eyes turned hard. “But I will go with you.”

  Her lashes flew wide. “But... but you can’t. The Prime won’t allow it.”

  “Fuck the Prime,” he replied. “I won’t leave you unprotected. Not anymore. Do you understand?”

  Slowly, she nodded, hardly believing her ears.

  “Good. When do we leave?”

  She collected her bag and fur-lined cape. “Now.”

  Chapter 4

  Caraway followed Anise through the Meandering Woods. A smidge of gray sky could be seen through the tall, still wet trees from recent rain. Sticks and twigs crunched and squelched underfoot as they trekked. They’d been walking for two hours, and yet the fallen log marker was nowhere in sight.

  The moment Caraway read the letter’s instructions, he’d become wary. Meet a troll at a fallen log, and then be told of the true location of the Ice-Witch? It seemed preposterous. Trolls were notorious for misdirection. Fae couldn’t lie, but they could send you on a wild wolpertinger chase just to mess with your head and then claim it was to reveal your heart’s desire. Trolls were also carnivores, and didn’t discriminate between their meat. Animal, monster, human, or fae, it was all the same to them. That Anise had planned to go there alone did not sit well with Caraway.

  Doubt crept into his mind. He’d been instructed to keep the mission as reconnaissance only, but he would prepare himself for action if necessary.

  “How far do we have to go?” Caraway asked.

  Anise shot him a sardonic look. “Are you tired, big guy?”

  He snorted. “No. I just don’t want you to be taken for a fool.”

  She waved the folded letter. “This prevents that. The gully should be just up ahead.”

  They cleared bracken and stepped into a ditch, boots landing in soggy leaves. A burst of woodland sprites exploded, fluttering and zipping about, cursing in their high-squeaky voices for him to watch his step. Then, as if hearing something he couldn’t, the sprites scattered to the winds.

  The hairs on Caraway’s arms lifted. He checked around and looked for something... anything. Being so close to Unseelie territory, where the fae of chaos ruled, there were many dangers, not to mention mana-warped monsters.

  The ditch he’d stepped into was, in fact, the gully they’d been searching for. It widened ahead and extended into the distance. More lush greenery littered the bottom.

  The birds stopped chirping. The insects silenced.

  Anise, not picking up the tension in the air, made a jubilant sound and pointed to a moss-covered fallen log.

  “That must be it!”

  A shadow emerged from behind the log. The troll, a five-foot gnarly beast, walked on two legs. Its overlong arms extended to the ground where clawed fingers scraped the dirt. His brown fuzzy hair extended from the top of his head and down to his bare back. Pointed ears twitched as his beady eyes watched them approach. Tense posture said he was not to be trifled with, and the scars over his almost naked body proved it. This troll was a survivor.

  No weapons, as far as Caraway could see. The troll wore nothing but a torn, dirty loincloth and a necklace made from some sort of leathery dehydrated chunks.

  When the troll darted a nervous glance to where Caraway’s hand gripped the hilt of his broadsword, Caraway’s lip curled but he released and lowered his hand to his side. No good would come of starting this with an altercation. Best to act like there was nothing to be worried about.

  Caraway put his boot on a small rock and leaned casually on his knee.

  Anise held up her folded letter and raised her voice. “I have an invitation to see the Ice-Witch. It says to come here and you will show me the rest of the way.”

  The troll squinted at her, then at Caraway. “We don’t want no Guardians around here. We eat Guardians.”

  For a moment, Caraway thought the troll was simply trying to sound threatening, but then he took a closer look at the troll’s necklace. Those leather chunks were familiar. Pointed ears. Some big, some small, and some child-sized.

  Caraway’s stomach bottomed out. This troll had eaten children, and it was proud of it. Ice washed through his veins, tensing every muscle.

  “Who him?” Anise laughed, pointing at Caraway. “He’s not here to cause trouble. He’s just my bodyguard for the trip. You won’t hear a peep out of him. Right, Car?”

  Anise’s eyes pleaded with him, and he knew he couldn’t jeopardize this mission, not without getting instructions first. He bared his teeth in what he supposed could be called a smile, and then raised his palms to the troll in surrender.

  The troll glared at Caraway’s glistening blue teardrop tattoo under his right eye—his Guardian mark—then at the sharp horns curling from the top of his head where his gaze lingered. The troll backed away. For a moment, Caraway thought he’d retreated, but then the troll tossed a glance over his shoulder and snarled to Anise, “You coming?”

  A grin split her face. Elation brightened her skin. She trotted after the troll, her long dark tail swishing at her rear. It had been a while since Caraway had seen a swish in his friend’s tail, and he liked it.

  He followed, but unclipped the fastening strap securing Justice to his baldric. Now if he needed to draw his magic-cutting weapon, there would be nothing hindering the release.

  The troll took them to a cave entrance where bones and body parts hung on strings, curing over a smokey fire. They looked fresh. Two, three, maybe four legs which equaled two fae that had been killed and trussed up. A quick glance around the cave showed no signs of contraband, which made these deaths not Caraway’s problem.

  Strange items and knick-knacks stacked in high, precarious piles were hoarded around the place, both inside and outside the cave. They were remnants of the old-time before a nuclear winter had swallowed the land and spat out a destitute, icy planet. Glancing deeper into the cave, he caught sight of a straw bed covered with a soft woolen blanket. It looked strange in a rough troll cave.

  Something moved in the darkness, and his senses lit up.

  Another troll?

  He sniffed the air, but his senses weren’t as attuned as a wolf’s. He glanced at Anise and caught a crease between her brows. She’d smelled something she didn’t like, but shook her head and dismissed it.

  The troll rifled around in a wicker basket by the cave entrance until he found a portal stone. He grunted at his find and then gestured with urgency for Anise to show him the invitation. Instead of reading it, he sniffed it.

  “Yep. Smells like witch,” he muttered and then handed Anise the stone. “This will take you to her.”

  Anise received the stone but slumped. “I can’t activate portal stones. Could you do it?”

  The troll shook his head. “Not part of the deal. You go now. We hungry.”

  “I can do it,” Caraway offered.

  “Good,” the troll picked up a long, jagged bone machete that had been resting against the cave. He jabbed it toward Caraway and Anise. “You go.”

  Caraway frowned at the troll’s haste and moved between the sharp bone weapon and Anise.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go do this elsewhere.”

  He walked Anise out of the gully but, try as he might, he couldn’t shake the sen
sation something was very wrong back at the camp. That blanket. Those curing body parts... He paused just as they climbed out of the gully and into a clearing. Anise handed him the stone, but instead of activating it, he turned back to survey the direction they’d come from.

  Smoke curled from the troll’s campfire, winding it’s way up through the treetops and into the overcast sky.

  It had been too easy.

  Trolls were evil bastards when they wanted to be. Trying to get one of them to do something for you was a hard task. They were deceptive, too.

  And then the cutting sound of a baby’s cry pierced through the trees. Caraway’s heart leaped into his throat. His eyes locked with Anise’s. She’d heard too. But it was the diminishing hope turned resignation in her eyes that broke his heart. And when her ears flattened and she turned her gaze away, he understood that her faith in him was gone.

  No words were needed. She’d thought because he was a Guardian, he’d ignore the plight of a baby, just like he’d failed to pay attention to the signs leading up to her capture two years ago.

  He unsheathed Justice and growled as he shoved the portal stone at her.

  “Stay here and wait for me,” he ordered, and then headed back toward the cave.

  Chapter 5

  Anise stood dumbly as she watched Caraway’s big, leather-clad body disappear down into the gully.

  The baby cried again, and it sliced right through her heart. She hadn’t expected Caraway to return to the troll. The shock of it still atrophied her muscles.

  Caraway—getting involved in the plight of others, even when it seemingly had nothing to do with his job. This went against everything he stood for, or rather, everything the Order of the Well stood for.

  Maybe the Order was changing. Maybe the world was.

  The frozen, harsh landscape that had taught the fae to be so brutal and ruthless was decreasing. The world was getting bigger once more.

  Anise blinked and looked down at the portal stone. It was her ticket to seeing the Ice-Witch, to garner the ability to shift and hold mana, but it had been left in the safekeeping of a child-eating Unseelie troll who wore trophies of his kills around his neck. She wanted to hurl the stone into the sky and forget about her journey, but a small part of her reasoned away this knowledge.

  Maybe the Ice-Witch didn’t know the troll was like this. Maybe she did.

  Did it matter?

  If Anise acquired the ability to shift, then did it matter who helped her get it?

  Anise knew the witch was Unseelie. She knew the morally obtuse woman would have different methods, and that was precisely why Anise was going to see her. No fae in Seelie territory offered the ability to grant changes to her physical makeup. Dark magic was the only way to inject chaos into creation, and the Unseelie had no compunction when it came to dealing with the inky side of the Well.

  The baby’s cry pricked her ears forward and goosebumps erupted over her skin. Whatever Anise thought of the witch, there were more important things to do right now. She pocketed the stone, unsheathed her dagger, and jogged after Caraway.

  When she arrived at the cave, her heart leaped into her throat. The troll’s head was on the floor—separate from his body—and Caraway stood with his broadsword to his side, its tip bloody and scraping the ground as he stalked closer to something beyond the campfire at the mouth of the cave. She’d never seen that kind of fury in his expression. He was formidable.

  Caraway stopped. The campfire blocked him from his quarry.

  Anise could tell he was calculating how to approach the situation. The tension in his shoulders pulled tight. The tips of his horns quivered. And an unearthly breeze gusted his hair, as though the mana he held ripe within his body, ready for hostile release, was quivering to get out. It just needed a target.

  Anise crept up behind him and almost lost the contents of her stomach when she saw what was in the cave beyond the fire. Another troll, this one bigger and fatter. The orange firelight cast sinister shadows along its craggy body. It cradled the wailing baby in its arms and held it to the side as if it were protecting the baby, but Anise knew it was the opposite. The troll inched toward the campfire near the cave mouth and snarled, the evidence of its last meal dangled between its teeth.

  She palmed the hilt of her dagger. If either her or Caraway struck the troll, the baby would fall. Whatever they decided, they must act fast before the baby ended up in the fire.

  Caraway frowned at Anise. “I told you to stay put.”

  “When do I ever do what I’m told?” She edged up to his side and whispered, “What do we do?”

  “I can’t strike and cast a spell at the same time. I’m not that good.”

  “But I can strike,” she replied. “Be ready to catch the baby.”

  “Anise,” Caraway warned, but she’d already taken a step closer.

  She threw her dagger at the troll’s face and wished it to land true. Its blade whistled past the flames and sunk into the troll’s eye. It let loose an almighty roar and released the baby so it could pull the dagger free.

  Panic choked Anise at the sight of the falling baby. She was already halfway around the fire as the troll stumbled backward, but Caraway beat her. He hadn’t taken a step, yet the baby hovered in mid-air. He’d cast some kind of air-hardening spell around it to keep it safe.

  She’d never been more relieved to have a Guardian as a friend, and even more so that he’d insisted on coming on this journey. If he’d not, she’d never have been able to rescue this baby on her own. It would have ended another trophy around the trolls’ necks. She found a fluffy blanket on the straw mattress and swaddled the baby before gathering it into her arms. Then she quickly got as far into the gully as she could to avoid the smoke.

  “It’s all right, little one,” she crooned. “We’ve got you.”

  Anise washed the baby’s red face and gave it something to drink from a waterskin she’d had in her bag.

  Caraway came back, blood dripping from his sword in one hand, and her soiled dagger in his other.

  “Is it okay?” His deep voice cracked with concern.

  She nodded. “For now, but we need to get it—” she took a peek inside the blanket. “Him. It’s a boy.” She gulped a deep breath. “No fur on his ears. No wings. How will we know which fae race he belongs to, or where to take him?”

  “We take him to the Order.”

  Anise winced. “But you went against Order rules.” Her watering eyes locked with her friend’s. “Why?”

  Why, when he’d always avoided getting involved in the past?

  He held her stare.

  “Maybe what happened to you has taught me some things. Maybe right or wrong doesn’t have defined borders.” He shrugged. “You were right, Anise. If I’ve got the ability to do something, I should.”

  The smile she sent him stretched so wide it hurt her cheeks. “Good to see something is getting through that woolly head of yours.”

  Their moment didn’t last long before she saw something flicker in his eyes. Consequence. He may be finally understanding that saving all lives mattered, but nothing happened in a vacuum. Caraway’s actions could have dire consequences, and if his convictions weren’t strong enough, then he’d ultimately blame her for any punishment he received as a result of saving this baby.

  The Guardians took following orders seriously, and if you failed, you weren’t much use to the Order.

  Her smile faded. “I hope you didn’t do this just to make me happy.”

  “I thought this is what you wanted? Me getting involved.”

  Turmoil swirled in her stomach. “I want you to get involved with things like this because it’s the right thing to do, not because you think it would make me happy.”

  The baby started crying again, and Anise tucked it close.

  “We can finish this conversation later,” he said and pulled out a portal stone from his pocket. “For now, we’d better get the infant to safety. This is the only stone I have keyed to the Ord
er, but I can get another while we’re there. Unless you had an alternative route back from the Ice-Witch.”

  She shrugged. She had planned to shift into a wolf form and use her more weather-proof animal body to trot home. Wolves could travel miles through the snow in one day. Failure hadn’t been an option. But now… now she understood things could go wrong.

  Caraway's boss, the Prime, might let him off with a wrist slap for what he’d done, but if Anise let him follow her to the Ice-Witch, and he got into more trouble, she wouldn’t forgive herself. This rebellion thing of his was new to him, despite her harping on about it for years. He needed time to process his actions and motivations. Anise refused to be the one who ruined the life he’d built for himself, not when he’d struggled after leaving his pacifist family behind for the violent life at the Order.

  When they arrived at the Order, she would find someone to activate the portal stone to the Ice-Witch, and she would leave Caraway behind. It was the right choice.

  When they arrived in the field outside the Order of the Well compound, Anise handed the baby to Caraway.

  “I’ll wait for you here,” she said.

  He frowned. “Are you sure? Clarke is probably inside.”

  As tempting as it was to see her friend, Anise already felt her resolve weakening, and visiting the Ice-Witch had been her sole purpose for half a decade. She couldn’t chicken out now.

  “I’m good,” she said.

  He raised a brow, but turned and left. When the big compound gates closed after he’d walked through, she turned and pulled out the troll’s portal stone from her pocket. The smooth, warm surface fit in the palm of her hand. She assumed there would be a magical reaction when she touched it—if she held mana within her body. She wondered what it would feel like to be connected viscerally to all the magic in the world, to have her own internal Well that fed from the grand Cosmic Well.

  But she didn’t.

  And it was because she didn’t that Caraway had already gotten into trouble. The Prime wouldn’t be happy about his meddling, let alone bringing home a stray baby. And if he kept assisting in Anise’s journey to the witch, then she would feel the same as she always did—useless.