The Longing of Lone Wolves

by Lana Pecherczyk

  The snow-capped mountain range they descended separated fae territory from human, but all Clarke saw was the lush green forest down the side they walked on. Eventually they wound down to a plateau that showed a one-eighty view from both sides of the mountain, and it was true, on the other side was nothing but white wasteland.

  Her captor forced her to stop. Her grateful feet sighed in relief. He pulled out a waterskin from his rucksack and fiddled with the ceramic nozzle while he watched her with intense eyes.

  Whatever.

  Sometimes working a mark took time. You had to get them in your confidence and trick them into complacency. At least she was alive, fed, and relatively unharmed. The fae hadn’t once made a move to assault her the way the others had, in fact, he’d attempted to keep her dignity intact. He wasn’t truly bad, he just needed her for something, and as soon as she found out what it was, she could use it to weasel her way out of his bargain.

  And then she’d take his jeweled bone knife. Or better yet, his sword. Either would go a long way to help her protect herself. The jewels on that knife would fetch a price… wherever things were sold in this world.

  Clarke walked to the edge of the natural viewing platform and shielded her eyes with bound hands. Wind rushed up to greet her. It smelled fresh. Unpolluted. So unlike the air that had been in Vegas at the end. That had been dusty and dank. This was amazing, pure and restorative. To one side was the vast tundra. Not much grew there. Turning, she took in the other side of the mountain where a lush forest thrived.

  Magnificent.

  Anticipation thrummed when she faced in the forest’s direction. She pointed. “So what’s down there? That’s where we’re headed, right?”

  The fae studied her while playing with his waterskin.

  When he didn’t answer, she pursed her lips. “Fine. I’ll guess it on my own.”

  His cocky snort of disbelief made Clarke want to prove him wrong. She drew on the gift that had served her well over her life. It surged to the surface, as though waiting for her call. The longer she spent in this time, the stronger her instinct got. It responded to her call like a living thing. Unnervingly, she could feel it growing inside her.

  She focused on the unknown land and let the fancies come. Images of golden people, laughing and dancing swam before her eyes. “I think that way is… well, down south a little further is a kingdom where the sun shines more than the shadows hide, and beings come from far and wide to bask in the warmth. I can see them sunbathing on the stone near the water. They dance. They have parties. And a queen—no, a king—with golden hair crowned with glass rules over them all. He’s beautiful. But... something is wrong in his mind.” She slid her captor a glance. “How did I do?”

  His handsome, rugged face had turned to stone.

  “Your eyes went white again,” he eventually noted.

  “What?” She touched her lashes. “What do you mean?”

  “Your irises turned white when you spoke those words.”

  “That’s weird.”

  He barked a laugh. “No. It’s a sign of magic flowing through you.”

  She enjoyed seeing his smile. He frowned too much. Then what he said sank in. It was her turn to laugh. “Again with the magic. Right.”

  But the instant the words came out, she felt in her gut that he was right. How else could she explain her premonitions? She’d always been psychic and, since waking, it had become stronger. Had her years of lying hidden in the earth exposed her to this cosmic mana that he’d proclaimed existed, or was it something else?

  A profound sense of home settled in her bones. It was as if her entire life she’d been waiting to be here, to come to this world where her idiosyncrasies weren’t exploited. Where she wasn’t forced to use her gift to cheat for others, but where her gift was accepted and lauded.

  If only she weren’t tied and bound. But she was working on that.

  “Was I right?” she prompted, a smile forming on her own lips.

  He gave a stiff nod and pointed far south-east. “The Summer Court is a new addition to our realm. The thaw in Elphyne only began a few centuries ago. Until then, life had survived as best it could in this harsh, icy realm. Whether Seelie or Unseelie, all fae races existed in the Winter Court. But then Summer came. Summer is an unfamiliar concept to us all, and it’s a drug to many.” His gaze turned wistful. “It’s like our bodies remember what was once here in this world, even after all this time.”

  “And how much time is that?” Clarke asked warily.

  An eyebrow shot up. “Two thousand years, give or take. No one knows for sure. Maybe the humans with their record keeping, but out here, we only began tracking the passage of time when Jackson Crimson discovered the link between the magic of the Well and the treatment of the land. No magic flows where metals and plastics are used.”

  Her fingers moved to touch the watch on her wrist and found it was gone. She missed being able to tell the time. And the convenience of having a smart watch. She’d have called a cab already.

  Clarke had worn metal her entire life. If what the fae said was true, then it could have been blocking her from reaching her true psychic potential. It could be the reason she felt it moving inside her now.

  “Tell me more about the summer kingdom,” she said.

  The frown smoothed from his brow as he gazed out at the land. “I remember first hearing the story of when King Mithras broke from the winter lands and created the glass throne in the sun. After he did that, the Spring elves broke away and started the Spring Court, and the Autumn Court followed. I was only young, and the Summer King was a wolf—just like me. There had been a sense of pride amongst my entire pack because it was one of our kind who had created the magnificent glass palace. But I was more interested in joining the Guardians.” He tapped to the logo of scales over his breast pocket.

  When he was young? Didn’t he just say the thaw began centuries ago?

  “How old are you?” she blurted.

  “One-seventy-eight.”

  “Years.” She blanched. Surely she heard him wrong.

  He nodded. “I was only a child when the Seelie Court was made.”

  “Seelie?”

  “Fae races are divided into two. Those that prefer to live in the light—the Seelie—and those that like the dark—the Unseelie.”

  “Got it.”

  “Before the Seelie Court existed, there was only one kingdom in the winter lands, and all manner of fae, whether Seelie or Unseelie were under its rule. But the pull of the sun proved too much for many, and it split in two. Then it split into four. The Spring and Summer Courts are part of the Seelie Kingdom, and the Autumn and Winter are part of the Unseelie.”

  “Sounds incredible. I’d love to visit one day.”

  It was the wrong thing to say. Her captor narrowed his eyes on her. “I’ve spoken too much.”

  She shrugged. “What am I going to do with that information? Look at me. I’m tied up and dragged around by you. I’m surprised you haven’t gagged me.”

  “Now that’s an interesting idea.”

  His laughter turned her scowl into a smile. It couldn’t be helped. It was those lips of his. The double brackets and mirth twinkling in his eyes. The way it lit up his otherwise downcast face. And she’d helped put it there.

  But he was the mark. She was being friendly to get under his skin. She had to remember that.

  He thought for a long time, then said, “Why are you using magic? How?”

  Clarke shifted her gaze back to the summer kingdom. “I guess I’ve always had a bit in me. Since before this time.”

  “What do you mean, before this time?”

  Here goes. “I think I’ve been frozen beneath the ice since my kind went to war what seems like many, many years ago.”

  “But you’re human. And you use magic.”

  “If you call this magic, then I guess not all of us were lost to it. I can feel it growing inside me.”

  He grunted, deep in thought and murmured, alm
ost to himself, “Now that I have removed the metals from your body.”

  She lifted her fingers to her ears. One was still raw from where Thaddeus had ripped the ring out. The other was bare.

  “So… Vegas is gone?” she added.

  “Your America is gone. This land you see to either side is all that is left. But it’s not the same. The earth has shifted. Where there are hills, there might have been valleys. Some ruins remain.”

  Clarke’s throat tightened. Tears burned her eyes. It was stupid. She’d known the truth, deep down inside, but still she hoped for this all to be a dream. It wasn’t. Maybe she was the last of her kind. From a time long forgotten. That part of her life was gone.

  As if the turn of her thoughts brought it on, dread gripped her throat and spread through her body. Panic engulfed her. She knew this feeling. It was the one she woke up with after nightmares. But it was the middle of the day... darkness crowded her vision and she dropped to the ground.

  “No no no,” she muttered.

  “What’s wrong?” The fae’s voice came at her from a distance.

  “I can’t stop it. It’s happening.”

  “What…”

  “The nightmare.”

  Laurel’s scream rent the air.

  “Stop!” Clarke tugged at the ties binding her to a chair. “Just leave her alone. She’s done nothing to you.”

  But the mercenary who had Clarke’s friend under his grip, cared little. He took Laurel’s bloody hand, caught the only intact nail in a pair of pliers, and cast Clarke a warning look. “Last chance, Clarke. Give us the numbers.”

  Laurel’s short black bob was plastered to her face. Her light-brown skin had paled. She looked about to pass out, but she refused to show defeat to the shadowed face on the cell phone video. The Void, Clarke had named him because she’d never seen his face, just a shadow that seemed to suck the life out of everyone. He was Bishop’s boss.

  Bishop stood to the side, arms folded. Clarke was the one tied to a chair, yet he glared at her as though she embarrassed him. “Just tell them, Clarke.”

  “Fuck you,” Laurel spat.

  “Move to her teeth next,” said the Void.

  No!

  “Fine,” Clarke cried.

  “No,” Laurel blurted. “They want it this bad, Clarke. It’s not good.”

  “She’s right,” said the Void. “The numbers are the nuclear codes. I need them to stop the war.”

  “He’s telling the truth, Clarke,” Bishop added.

  They’re lying. Clarke knew because of the sensation buzzing in her chest. It grated like nails down a blackboard. Panic engulfed her. Tears burned her eyes. She couldn’t let her friend suffer.

  Laurel’s scream shattered the dream.

  Clarke whirled away… out of her memory and into another. This time, she was the voyeur in a room, listening to a group of faceless people talking. But one voice she recognized. The Void. Only this time he wasn’t so faceless. Tall. Dark. Grayed streaks at his temples. Clearer, but still far away, still emanating the sickly dark vibes. She had to strain to hear what he said.

  Leaning over a map, the Void pointed at a spot. “There,” he said. “That’s where we find the copper deposit.” He pointed at another spot. “And there is the tungsten.”

  “It’s too deep into their territory,” replied his companion. The mercenary.

  “So we bleed it out.”

  Clarke only had enough time to look at the map and register a familiar word. Elphyne. She gasped. And then the Void looked up. His eyes clashed with Clarke’s.

  She was booted out of the vision and into never ending inky water.

  She couldn’t breathe.

  She was drowning.

  Elphyne.

  Whirling in darkness, she repeated the word, as if she could return there like Dorothy in Oz. Elphyne. Her new home. Maybe if she repeated it enough, she’d leave this nightmare.

  Elphyne.

  The darkness gave way to light, and she found herself soaring over the magnificent green forests of Elphyne. A spark of red caught her eye, and she dived. The closer she got, the larger the spark grew until it became a campfire.

  Clarke saw smiling faces of men… not men, fae. Males of different fae species, all surrounding a campfire, laughing with shared camaraderie. Warmth flooded through her. They were enjoying themselves. A drink or two, a clap on the back.

  Every male was made from thick muscle and broad strength. Ruthless eyes, scarred hands. Swords leaning by their sides. Bows. Axes. Other strange weapons she’d not seen before. Every single one wore a blue coat. Kingfisher blue.

  Guardians.

  Safe. Somehow she knew she was safe with them.

  One by one, their pointed ears pricked up. Each male turned their face in the same direction, toward the darkness Clarke’s sight couldn’t pierce, and then the incredible roar of an explosion decimated her eardrums.

  Fire. Destruction.

  The land of Elphyne was burning. Water wasn’t safe. Ice wasn’t safe.

  All gone.

  In a heartbeat.

  And then….

  A mocking laughter echoed in the dark.

  Emptiness. A Void.

  Chapter Eight

  Clarke came out of her vision, throat raw and eyes burning. She looked into the face of the fae, his brow crimped with worry. Her head rested on his lap, and his warm hands steadied her face. The wolf whined at their side.

  “Are you well?” he asked.

  And it was that small act of concern that broke the banks of her emotion.

  “He’s coming,” she whispered, silently sobbing.

  “Who’s coming?”

  But she couldn’t voice it. Not yet. For long moments they stared at each other. In his golden reflection, she saw herself. Not the woman she used to be, but a new one. The person she wanted to be. None of her past transgressions were a part of this world, nothing was stopping her from being a different person… one who used her gift for good, not selfish gain. She could take control of her life. She could be stronger.

  The gift in her body surged, as though in agreement.

  And then she remembered the first part of her nightmare. Those “lotto numbers” weren’t lotto numbers at all. They were the nuclear codes that started the destruction of the world.

  Oh, God, she felt sick.

  “What’s wrong. What did you see?” He seemed to stare right through her facade and into the tragic truth wrapping itself around her heart.

  She twisted off him and landed on her hands and knees. Nausea rolled in her gut. Guilt. Bone crushing guilt.

  “I can’t breathe,” she wheezed, and tried to loosen the cape’s neck tie with trembling fingers. The war was her fault. When she’d used her gift to feel out the numbers of the codes, she’d known what they were for. He said he was going to stop a war. But he created it.

  Her fault.

  All because she’d failed to listen to herself.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. She’d always had a choice on some level. Behind her eyelids, the sins of the past flashed and morphed with the images from her vision. The Void was pointing at a map of Elphyne. But that was in this time. At first she’d thought it was a repeat of what happened in her time, but... that other vision. With the fire and explosions. Those were fae she’d seen.

  Unless she did something about it.

  A darkness clouded Rush’s expression as he grasped her shoulders. “What did you see?”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “You’re lying.”

  His wolf snarled at her. She clamped her lips shut. How could she make a difference if people saw her as evil? She was already battling against a preconceived notion that humans were the enemy.

  “Tell me,” he ordered.

  This time, the fae’s words seemed to reach within her body, grip her voice box and demand it work. A tingling force compelled her to move her lips. She blurted her shame before she could stop. “I saw my past. I saw the moment I hel
ped them uncover the nuclear codes that armed weapons that ended the world. And I saw the same fiery destruction in this time.”

  A darkness like she’d never seen before washed over the fae. Every muscle in his body tensed. Nostrils flared. Jaw clenched. “You are the one responsible for annihilating the old world? Tell me.”

  Alarm skated up her spine. As before, the words blurted out in an uncontrollable flood. “Yes. But he made me do it.”

  As if that excused her. The end of the world came. Laurel died anyway.

  He stilled. “Someone forced you?”

  “Yes.” Fingers going to her throat, she tried to stop her words with actions. What the hell was happening?

  “Who forced you? Who used you?”

  “My boyfriend. His boss. Another mercenary called Bones.” Fear clogged her throat. “What are you doing to me?”

  “I’m compelling you through our bargain.”

  “You’re making me speak?”

  “I can make you move, too.”

  The horror of it hit her. This whole time he’d lulled her into a pretense of complacency. The bindings were a ruse. He could make her do anything.

  “You asshole.” She jerked out of his hold. “You had no right to force that out of me.”

  “It’s a good thing that I did. I had no idea the woman I’d captured.”

  “I had no idea the jerk I’d bargained with to save my life.”

  “Tell me about this person who forced you.”

  “And are you going to tell me about your deepest, darkest shame? Those blue glyphs are there for a reason. One you don’t like. I’ve seen you glaring at them. You’re not perfect.”

  He folded his arms, pushing out his biceps and returned her glare. “Do I have to compel you?”

  She sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. What was the point in trying to hide things? She stared out into the forests of Elphyne.

  “You ever heard the story of the boy who cried wolf?” she asked.

  His lip twitched, but he shook his head.