Midnightstar (Creatures of the Lands Book 5)

by Natalie Erin

  After the unicorn was dead, Lottie tore into its flesh, ripping out chunks of muscle and flinging them everywhere in a relentless rage. “Stop it!” Snapfoot said, and he pulled her off the beast. “It’s not going to help!”

  “Snapfoot!” Lottie said, and she snarled at him too, her mouth dripping with blood. “Where were you? Where did you go?”

  Snapfoot backed away quickly. “I…I…”

  “You took off! Your father did his best to save the pack!” Lottie screamed. “Because you weren’t here, your father’s dead. DEAD!”

  “Aunt Lottie he…he was old. He shouldn’t have fought,” Snapfoot said weakly.

  “No, he shouldn’t have! That was your job! He took your place!” Lottie shoved herself into him, smearing blood onto his pelt. “What are you going to tell Cornia? Hm? What could you possibly say to your mother?”

  Snapfoot shuddered. Mama. What could he say to her? He had no idea. Telling Cornia that Lilja was dead was the worst kind of nightmare. He’d rather be tortured by the unicorns

  Lottie looked at Lilja’s corpse and said, “We have to bury him.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes, now!”

  “But there are other wolves as well.”

  “Forget about them. We have to bury our own dead.”

  “Where did your compassion go?” Snapfoot remarked, astonished at this sudden change in his aunt.

  “It left with my brother.” Lottie gestured to Lilja and said, “Carry him upon your back. I’ll find somewhere to put him.”

  Lottie trotted off, growling in a murderous tone. With a heavy heart, Snapfoot bent down and cast his father over his shoulder. Lilja was heavy, but Snapfoot made no complaint. He followed his aunt for a long while, sagging under the weight of his father and nearly losing his balance as they climbed hills and past streams, into the blackened ash of the Verinian.

  As they continued wandering the woods in an aimless fashion, Snapfoot wondered if Lottie was going insane. “Aunt Lottie, there’s nothing here. The whole forest has been burnt.”

  Lottie kept going without answering him. Like an obedient pup, he continued to follow.

  Finally, Lottie halted, raising her head to the sky. “Here. We first met Ionan here.”

  “How can you tell?” Snapfoot glanced from ash pile to ash pile, unable to recognize a single piece of what had once been the realm of his puphood.

  “It’s been chiseled into memory.” Lottie began digging, scooping the dirt up in great mounds with her paws.

  “Let me help,” Snapfoot offered, coming forward.

  As he did so, she shoved him to the side. “No! I’ll do this alone.”

  It didn’t take her long to create a grave large enough to host Lilja. “Lay him in,” Lottie said, and for a moment, her voice had that gentle tone he was so familiar with.

  Snapfoot did as he was told. Lottie gave her brother a kiss on the cheek, before saying, “Farewell, my dearest brother, greatest protector. Mother was right when she said you would see her soon. I only grieve that I couldn’t have gone with you, but it seems my task to help the new generation is still not finished. May the Creator bless your soul.”

  Snapfoot didn’t have the slightest idea what she was talking about. She looked at him expectantly. Struggling to find words to say, he stuttered, “The Creator has abandoned us, but He hasn’t abandoned you, Father. I hope that you’re receiving the greatest reward. You deserve it.”

  Lottie looked at him. “Do you really think the Creator has abandoned us?”

  Snapfoot stared at Lilja’s body, soon to be covered in earth. “It feels like it.”

  Without another word, both of them began filling in the grave. Snapfoot couldn’t look, because he knew that if he saw the dirt being thrown on his father, he would stop and beg Lilja to wake up. He pretended he was a pup instead, playing one of his games, digging a hole to the other side of the world.

  Lottie, however, didn’t let her eyes leave her brother’s body until the ground had swallowed him completely.

  They stood over a mound of overturned earth and ash, with nothing left to show that Lilja had been here except for memory.

  “So this is what it has come to,” Lottie whispered. “The greatest leader the High Plains Pack has ever known is gone.”

  Lottie cast her head back, calling out a wild, anguished howl.

  Snapfoot and Lottie made it back to their pack in the darkest hour of the morning. The talking instantly ceased as they crept back to the group.

  “Snapfoot!” His heart gave a jolt as he saw his mother Cornia lumber up to him, her eyes wide. “You’re alright! Where’s your father?”

  Snapfoot swallowed. “Mama,” Snapfoot said. “I...I don’t know how to tell you this, but he’s gone. A unicorn killed him, and we had to bury him. I’m sorry.”

  Whispers instantly scattered throughout the pack. Lilja, dead? How could he be dead?

  Cornia looked at him with a dull expression, as if she couldn’t comprehend what her son had said. “What?”

  “I’m sorry, Mama,” Snapfoot said. All he could think to do was apologize.

  Cornia backed up, shaking her head, and some of the she-wolves of the pack drew her in, comforting her as she stared at the ground in shock. Snapfoot, feeling like a coward, had to turn away.

  Nearby, he saw Echo looking meekly at the ground. A flare of anger rose up in his throat. How was it by some miracle that Echo, with his injured legs, had managed to escape while his own father, brave and noble, had fallen?

  “What now?” one wolf asked. “What do we do?”

  “We listen to our leader,” another said, and all eyes turned on him.

  Snapfoot backed up instinctively. “I…I’m still leader?” he said in an astounded voice.

  “You shouldn’t be. You’re no kind of leader at all,” one wolf snarled. “You left us. Betrayed us all.”

  “Leave, if you wish,” Snapfoot replied to her, and to all the others. “Go. Run. You won’t have to follow me anymore.”

  “Where to? There’s nowhere to go!” she shouted back at him. “We have nothing left. We’re all forced to stay here with you, because these wolves here are all that the plains have left. We may be all the wolves that the Lands have left. Living alone is sure death.”

  “Pick a different leader, then,” he said defiantly.

  “Who? All of our best fighters are dead. There is no one left to take your place.”

  “What if I refuse to lead you anymore?” he declared.

  “You will not step down, Snapfoot,” Lottie said, and her voice was thick with rage as she drew to his side. “You will stay in this position, no matter how hard it may be! You got us into this mess, and so, you can get us out!”

  Snapfoot recoiled as his aunt shouted at him. The air turned into water and he choked on his words, saying, “I need some time to think. All of you, get some rest. We’re going to need it.”

  “What about the rest of the pack?” somebody questioned.

  Nobody needed to ask what he meant. “We can’t go back,” he said.

  “The Ortusans will take care of them,” Echo said, and his voice cracked. “Snapfoot is right. It’s going to be a feeding frenzy soon. We can’t take the risk of being in the area.”

  “Of course you don’t care if our dead get eaten by those bastards! You have nobody you care for out there!” a wolf screamed.

  “We could be the last wolves!” Snapfoot said. “It does no good to kill ourselves in honor of them! Those bodies left behind, those aren’t the wolves you loved! They wouldn’t want us to make any more sacrifices! Now please, everyone, get some sleep!”

  Every wolf in the clearing glared at him, but they were either too tired or too upset to protest. Many wolves fell to the ground right on the spot, and Snapfoot turned, heading for where Kaliska was hidden. He wanted to be alone…but yet, at the same time, he didn’t.

  He helped her hobble to the clearing, telling her all that had happened and placing her by s
ome bushes where she wouldn’t be found by the pack until morning. As he crawled next to her, she gave him a sympathetic glance. “Don’t take Lottie’s words to heart. She’s just upset over Lilja.”

  “I know she is,” Snapfoot said. “But you can’t excuse her words for grief. Everything she said was true.”

  She didn’t answer. All she did was kiss the fur between his shoulders before going to sleep.

  The next morning, the pack wasn’t much better than they were the night before. Snapfoot knew he wouldn’t get the group very far in this state, but he had to try.

  The only one not yet awake was Cornia. Snapfoot had left her alone, not wanting to disturb her, but he could wait no longer for her.

  “Mama,” he said gently, and he nudged her shoulder with his paw. “It’s time to go. We can’t stay.”

  Cornia was as still as a stone. “Come now, Mama,” Snapfoot said. “Get up. Mama!”

  It was only when Snapfoot nudged her a second time that he felt how cold she was. “Mother!” Snapfoot cried, and the pack glanced at him from the darkness of the trees, his voice crossing from gentleness to hysteria. “Mother, we have to leave! Mother!”

  She didn’t wake.

  There were still hours to go until dawn, and Midnightstar hadn’t slept. She hadn’t moved from her position, her tail still over her face, making it hard to breathe.

  “You haven’t even tried to rest,” Xiuh complained, raising his head off the ground. He was still wrapped around her, his long body tightly pressed against hers.

  “Go back to sleep, Xiuh.” Her voice was a muffled moan underneath her tail, tired and weary.

  “No. Not while you’re still awake.” He gave a stubborn yawn and looked at her with those sharp eyes.

  “Leave me be.”

  “Part of your trouble is that you keep everything to yourself. If you opened up every now and then, you wouldn’t be in such difficult circumstances.”

  “We can’t be helped all the time.”

  “No, we can’t. But you can tell me what’s on your mind right now.”

  “You’re too young to understand.”

  “I’m not too young to listen,” he said.

  “You can’t reason with dragons,” Midnightstar complained. She let her tail fall back from her face, but moved nothing else.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “Many thoughts.”

  “About the Assembly?”

  “No. About life.”

  “How so?”

  “I’ve been wondering about it all night. I’ve been thinking...what’s the use of having a comfortable life if other creatures out there still suffer?” Midnightstar looked down at the ground. “It’s all very good and well to be in a pack…to always be well fed, to fall in love, to raise pups and grow old.”

  “Very fine indeed.”

  “But what does it all mean?” she persisted. “It seems all anybody ever wants is to be comfortable. The Assembly proved that. They didn’t want to change anything, they just wanted everything to stay the same. If I’m not going to change the world for the better, what am I here for?”

  “You’ve kept this to yourself all this time?”

  “I’ve thought this way for many years.”

  “And still no answers?”

  “Only more questions.”

  “You are restless, Midnightstar.”

  “I once was. I once craved adventure. I wanted something exciting to happen to break the endless pattern of boredom,” Midnightstar said in frustration. “Life in my pack was so dull. The only thing that varied was what we had to eat that night. It’s only because of the Second Despondent that our routine has been altered.”

  “But now you want things to go back as they were?”

  “No, not really. But here’s the thing, Xiuh...I’m also tired of danger, of running, of never knowing if my pelt is still going to be on me the next morning or if an Ortusan will be wearing it the next day. I don’t like all this endless pain and suffering. It’s like my life is split into two halves. One half is utterly predictable, and the other is utterly unpredictable. I don’t like either.”

  “What do you want, Midnightstar?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why are you always so torn?” Xiuh asked quietly.

  “Do you think I know the answer?” Midnightstar let out a frustrated sigh.

  “You place the entire world upon your shoulders. Just breathe,” Xiuh told her.

  “I can’t. There’s no air left to breathe.” Midnightstar leaned onto Xiuh’s shoulders and he shifted his weight, so he could support her better. “It feels like I’m trying to hold up the world. But I can’t. I just let it fall, every time.”

  “I can’t hold the world for you, Midnightstar, but I may be able to hold you,” Xiuh said, his tail flicking.

  Midnightstar closed her eyes, pretending to be tired. “I’m going back to sleep. Goodnight, Xiuh.”

  The relief in his voice was evident. “Goodnight.”

  He was slumbering within minutes. As soon as he was deep within his dreams Midnightstar clambered away from him, squeezing out of his grip.

  What am I going to do? she thought, and her head started swirling. The thoughts were racing by so fast, she couldn’t think. What in the world am I going to do?

  In an instant the voices were in her ears, whispering small things. She listened intently, because there was nothing else to hear.

  Let go, Midnightstar, the voices hushed. There is nothing you can do. This is the way of the world. There is suffering, and there is pain. One wolf can do little to alter the course of fate. Stop fighting. Allow life to take its course.

  How so? Midnightstar hushed back.

  You are ruining your friends. Do you think little Adelaide should be blissfully unaware all her life? Should Rabika continue in her rudeness? Is it right to let Tatl think he can protect you all from whatever threat that may come, but won’t there be a day when he will either be too weak or too late? And Xiuh…should he keep dwelling in this state of endless hope? Should be keep believing that you care for him and will never leave, even though you know this isn’t true?

  Midnightstar gazed upon her sleeping companions. No, she thought. I suppose not.

  Then you know what to do, Midnightstar.

  She did. It was what she always did when she had no other course. But where do I go?

  Anywhere. It doesn’t matter. You know that the unicorn war will never end whether you go home or not. Abandon your mission.

  What about them? She took a long glance at each one of her friends in turn, lingering on Xiuh’s face.

  You can’t help them. You never could. They are better off without you. They don’t want to be around a wolf who has lost her mind.

  Before Midnightstar realized she was running, her friends were already far behind her. The trees and bushes whipped past her as she climbed the heights of the Blue Sky Peaks. Should I go back? she wondered.

  Don’t bother, Midnightstar, the voices hushed. It is better this way. The only way to survive in this world is to be selfish, after all. Let go. Let them go.

  So Midnightstar did just that as her paws carried her farther and farther away, abandoning the ones she loved.

  Abandoning her dragon.

  Chapter Ten

  Bouncing on the Moon

  Jade looked to the sky as the figures of her friends slowly disappeared into the clouds, the ocean lapping at her paws. Allie, Reagan, Kia, Casiff, Vixen, Dragonstar and Snow Drop were heading to Nesting’s Haven to find Kennu and the others, and with no way to join them, she and her brother had been forced to stay behind. “So just like that, we’re alone again,” she grumbled.

  “It’ll work out,” Shadowin said. “We’ll see them all again when they get back.”

  “There won’t be anything for them to come back to!” Jade snarled. “The Ortusans are taking over!”

  “We should get started on hunting them all,” Shadowin replied. “Though I’m not
sure where to start. We can’t go after them if they’re in large groups.”

  “What we need to do is figure out where they call home,” Jade said. “They’re banding together, which means they must have a large coven of sorts stationed somewhere. If we find it, we can start picking them off one by one. If we don’t get rid of them soon, the Lands will be gone.”

  “They’re already gone. All we are doing is getting rid of the leftover monsters,” Shadowin answered. “We need to make this place habitable, so it can be brought back to life again.”

  “If there is any chance of life,” Jade hissed.

  Shadowin sighed. “The fairies can restore it, but they can’t come out of hiding until we get rid of the bloodsuckers.”

  “Then let’s get to work!” Jade barked. “We have leeches to destroy!”

  Shadowin howled excitedly. “Let’s make those posers pay for what they did to Caini!”

  They began the hunt immediately, prowling into the jungle. As they went, they decided the best plan would be to find an Ortusan hiding in the woods, and then follow it back to wherever its coven was. Shadowin took charge, leading the way with his nose to the ground. He searched desperately for any sign of the monsters.

  It didn’t take long to catch a scent. “I smell blood,” he whispered, his ears perking up. “Stay low to the ground.”

  Jade hunkered down. “It smells fresh. They couldn’t have fed too long ago,” she commented. “What if it spots us?”

  “Don’t let it live,” Shadowin said gruffly. “Show them no mercy, as they have shown no mercy to this land.”

  They fell silent, watching closely as they creeped forward. Just ahead of them was a short monster. He had dark hair and bright, yellow eyes. Blood dripped from a fawn held tightly in his grasp. The small creature struggled frailly as its life vanished, the Ortusan sucking the life from its veins.

  Jade growled anxiously and Shadowin shushed her quickly. The Ortusan looked around, tossing the dead deer to the side as he rose to his feet.