Will started to open his mouth, to come to my defense again, maybe—but I beat him to it.
“Do you think I’ve forgotten about that curse?” I said, my voice low. We were starting to attract attention, humans and lycans both edging closer to listen in on our conversation. And, likely because of this, Alanna’s next words were soft and only in my head.
(The fatigue in your eyes hasn’t gone unnoticed, you know. Whatever battles you’re fighting without us, it’s obvious that they are directly affecting your ability to lead. Doubts are surfacing, and if you can’t do something to relieve them—)
“Just tell your pack to be ready for whatever end is coming. Because it’s coming very soon,” I said—out loud, and boldly enough to make sure the ones eavesdropping heard me as well. “We’ll rise to meet whatever it is, and with whatever and whoever we have to fight with. The curse won’t end this. We are going to end this, one way or another. If Carrick is biding his time, hoping for that blood moon’s help, then we still have at least five days to make the first move.”
Alanna still looked somewhat disgruntled, but she apparently didn’t have a better plan to counter mine with, because she simply gave a curt nod and then walked away.
Which I was incredibly grateful for, because just that little bit of coherent speech-making had left my tired brain spinning.
“She told me I was failing, and she’s right,” I mumbled to Will. “I’m obviously getting too tired for this. And I don’t predict much rest in my future, so…”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” he said. “We’re all tired—nobody’s at their best right now. But we’ll get through it, somehow.”
“Do you really believe that?” I couldn’t meet his eyes as I asked it, but I I could feel him turn his sincere gaze on me.
“I really do.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, huddling against the cold morning, and I surveyed the occupants of our camp. Most were ignoring me now—or at least pretending to—and instead they were talking in hushed voices among each other, or else picking unenthusiastically at food, or simply staring vacantly off into space. They all looked more than a little lost and demoralized, and the longer I watched them, the more I felt the awful ache of disappointment clenching low in my stomach.
It was like staring into an odd kind of mirror.
Because they all looked like I felt inside.
Carrick was destroying my mind, and the side effect of that really was this: doubt and uncertainty poisoning the army I was supposed to be leading.
“I might not figure out how to unlock the Solas before it’s too late,” I said quietly, still not meeting Will’s eyes. “I haven’t been able to focus on it like I need to.”
“Maybe you’ll surprise yourself. Your strength has surprised you before, hasn’t it?”
I had to agree, I guessed. “This year has definitely been full of surprises,” I deadpanned.
“Just think about the other side of all this,” he said with a small grin, “after we win. Years from now, you’re older, respected…a retired war hero that people just want to meet and shake the hand of. Maybe they bring you gifts and bow at your feet or something?”
“Gifts: Okay. The bowing thing weirds me out, though.”
“I’ll be your bodyguard, then, and enforce a strict no bowing rule.”
“Deal. Though I still have my doubts about the hero part, just so we’re clear.”
“Hundred bucks says someone erects a statue of you somewhere, eventually.”
I laughed softly, unable to help myself, as I shook his hand. “Deal. Easiest hundred bucks I’m ever going to make, probably.”
“We’ll see.”
“If it doesn’t happen by my twenty-first birthday, I’m collecting.”
“That’s fair,” he said, nodding.
I let my hand rest in his for a minute. Holding on to him felt, in a way, like the only thing anchoring me to reality as I surveyed the camp around me one more time.
I didn’t feel like a hero.
But I wasn’t going to be a coward either.
If the past year had taught me anything, it was that I didn’t have to have it all figured out to move forward. With doubts growing and the curse closing in, maybe the most important thing now was to simply be brave and keep moving.
“Let’s start rallying the troops then,” I said. “Guess we’re about to find out who the heroes are, one way or another.”
Twenty
leading
I opened my eyes to darkness and a familiar shadow outside my tent.
Not again.
I felt that pulling in my soul, felt it urging me to sit up and step outside. And I did sit up—but then I braced my hands on either side of me, grabbed fistfuls of the tarp flooring of the tent, and I managed to stay still. I turned my head away from that shadow outside, desperately trying to find something to focus on that might help me keep motionless.
But it didn’t matter.
I didn’t have to leave my bed to face the nightmare’s horrors, this time. Because a minute later, Carrick was inside and sitting next to me, close and casual as if we were two old friends hanging out and catching up with each other.
“Leave me alone,” I begged softly, staring at the balled up tarp in my clenched fist. I just want to wake up.
“I heard a little rumor,” he said, “that you were going to war soon.” I could feel his gaze slide over me; it sent a violent shiver racing down my spine.
“It’s not a rumor. Your days are numbered.” My voice was a tight, hoarse whisper. It’s hard to sound super threatening when you’re a prisoner in your own nightmare, turns out. But I still tried. “We know you’re close, outside of this nightmare. I won’t let you run away this time,” I said. “Hellhound. I still think about the way Joseph called you that, and I’ve been swearing to myself that I would send you back to hell ever since I learned the truth about you.”
He chuckled. “Such confident talk. But I wonder…” I cringed as he reached for my hand. I couldn’t draw away fast enough to keep him from securing a grip around my wrist. His thumb traced the lines along my palm as he studied it, and then he said, “I wonder if you really believe that.”
“I—”
“Something tells me you know the truth, somewhere inside you. You’ve had your share of prophetic visions, after all.”
“I don’t believe in prophecy,” I said, gritting my teeth.
“No?”
His hand squeezed over mine.
Everything flashed to black.
It was brilliant white in the next instant, and then my vision slowly flickered back to normal. I found myself still at his side, but we were standing, now, on a rocky cliff overlooking the ocean. A full moon hung low over the water, casting silver light over the shapes of islands in the distance and making the white crests of waves appear to be glowing. I stared without speaking. Bracing myself. His torture was coming, I knew; I just didn’t know what it would be, this time. This location was new to my nightmare scenes.
After a moment, the silver light began to shift.
It took on a pinkish tint at first, but the more I focused on the pinkish-white caps of the breaking waves, the darker they turned, until they were an unmistakable, brilliant shade of red. Like blood washing over the grey sand.
I turned away, burying my face in my hands.
When I looked up again, a battle had erupted behind me.
There were wolves everywhere, as far as I could see, and actual blood stained all of the ground they stood on. It dripped from teeth and fur, and it squished and splattered beneath paws as the beasts crashed and tore wildly at each other, and it raced in little torrents down to meet the sea. It was surreal, the way it was spreading into that sea.
Red.
Everything was red.
And everything was silent, save for the sound of my heart slamming against my ribcage.
I watched wolf after wolf fall with the rhythm of that heartbeat, all of them sla
ying each other in a way that looked indiscriminating, because I couldn’t tell one beast from the other. It was impossible to tell who was winning. Who was on what side.
Does it matter?
Vanessa’s words danced at the edge of my mind. I thought as hard as I could about them, about the awake life I’d heard them in, thinking it might help me find my way back to that life. But the world around me only burned brighter and brighter red.
“You see, dear Mother Alpha,” Carrick said, “hell is right here. And my pack and I are already quite comfortable calling it home.”
“Well you shouldn’t be—because I swear I’m sending you back to below,” I snapped, jerking my hand from his and stepping away. As I did, the scene at the beach faded, and we were suddenly back in my tent. My heart still pounded, but I hadn’t actually moved anywhere this time, I didn’t think. Now if only I could wake up…
“Sending me back?” he repeated, sneering. “With what? The Solas?”
“My grandfather and father both wielded it, and when the time comes, I will too.”
“That will be interesting to see. Especially since that particular weapon is now gone.”
And just like that, I was awake.
Gone.
The word thundered in my ears.
Gone, gone, gone—
I snatched for my jacket, unzipped the pockets and rifled frantically through them. Empty. And that was where I’d left the jewel, right? Right. I kept searching, until the sound of movement just outside caught my attention. I scrambled from the tent. The cool night air washed over me and brought a chilling clarity with it; the jewel’s pulsing energy trail was obvious.
Then I saw it.
It was in the hands of a sandy-haired girl who was running away from my tent.
“STOP!”
The few people milling around the campsite all turned to look at me, but the sandy-haired girl only ran faster.
I thought of Carrick’s sneering face. A determined growl ripped through me, and I sprinted into motion, hitting the ground with my hands as they shifted to paws and powerful legs that closed the distance between me and the girl in leaps and bounds.
I was fully wolf when I descended, slamming into her back and sending her rolling across the ground. My teeth snapped for the hand holding the Solas, but she jerked it away and punched me in the jaw with her opposite fist. It was a jarring hit, made even more so by the fact that I saw her face when she turned around to do it.
And I recognized it: This was one of Alanna’s wolves. A Kerry Ring pack member.
(What do you think you’re doing?) I demanded, wrestling the wolfish desire to pay her back for my now-throbbing jaw. (We’re on the same side!)
The girl answered by kicking me square in the chest, first with one foot and then the other. I backed up a few inches to escape her pummeling, and she lifted her head and, in a slightly shaking voice, she said, “If you can’t figure out how to unlock its power, then why should we be on your side? You’re a fraud!”
(And you’re a thief!)
“We have as much right to it as you. We tracked it down, after you so carelessly gave it away to one who doesn’t even truly belong in our world—“
(She’s my sister.)
“She has none of the same blood. She isn’t an Aurick, and we are beginning to doubt that you even have any business claiming that bloodline—”
(We? Why do you keep saying we? Who else is there? How many of you traitors are there?)
“Enough that you won’t be getting this back,” she snapped, landing another powerful kick—this time against my windpipe. I fell back, coughing and snarling, as she shoved herself free and jumped back to her feet. I leapt after her.
I was knocked from the air by a blur of silvery black. Claws raked across my shoulder. They didn’t cut particularly deep, but the hiss of pain was enough to cause me to land awkwardly. I staggered up in a fit of rage to meet the dark eyes leveled at me.
Alanna.
The girl didn’t escape, though; as Alanna and I circled each other, teeth bared, out of the corner of my vision I caught a glimpse of Eamon grabbing the thief by the arm and yanking her to a stop. Several others closed in around them. It was hard to tell who was who, but most of them seemed to be assisting Eamon, at least.
(What is going on?) Alanna asked me.
(How about you tell me? I just woke up to find that girl robbing me, taking the Solas—)
(She has the Solas?) Her gaze jerked back over her shoulder. She watched Eamon and the others scuffling for a moment, then turned and glared at me for a long, tense moment, her head low and body tightly coiled and ready to spring. She still looked suspicious, unwilling to believe what her pack mate had tried to do, maybe. But finally she gave an irritable snort and said, (I’ll deal with it, then.)
I watched her bound over to join the scuffle. There were obviously two sides now, distinctly divided and shouting at one another—some from Eamon’s side, some from the thief’s side; Alanna stepped right in the middle of them all. I thought about joining her to help break things up, but before I could take a step, I heard more arguing behind me that I couldn’t ignore.
I spun around and saw something I don’t think I ever had before: Kael and Will were facing each other with jaws clenched and fists drawn, looking ready to start swinging.
Those two never fought.
What in the world…?
Vanessa had one hand on Will’s arm, pulling him backward. I raced to help separate them, stepping back into my human form so I could follow Vanessa’s example and take Kael by the arm to drag him away.
“What is wrong with you two?” I asked.
Kael’s eyes were narrowed on Vanessa as he answered. “She was supposed to be guarding you.”
“She said she was sorry a million times already,” Will said, exasperated.
“And I am,” Vanessa said, her voice soft and miserable. “You know I am.”
“So just let it go,” Will said.
“There was someone in Alex’s tent. What if it had been somebody more dangerous? What if it had been one of the feral? If you were that exhausted, then why would you agree to—”
“I SAID I WAS SORRY, OKAY?”
“Stop it!” I held up my hands, cutting off Kael and Will as they both started to argue again at the same time. “You all, seriously—stop. We can’t afford to be fighting among ourselves right now!”
Vanessa pushed past Will to hug me and say she was sorry, again, but the guys both remained disgruntled. And the angry looks they were shooting at each other were somehow one of the most disturbing, terrifying things I’d seen since I touched down in this country.
It seemed like undeniable proof that we were unraveling. That we were stretched too thin and fraying at the seams, and, if we weren’t careful, soon we might rip completely apart.
Alanna plodded up to us, the chain the Solas hung from clamped delicately in her teeth. I slowly crouched to take it from her, and her tail drooped a bit as I did. (I’m sorry,) she thought to me. (I don’t know what got into her. She said she had a dream, a nightmare where the alpha died and she watched the Solas turn to ash in your hand, and she—)
“A dream?”
She nodded.
“The feral,” I sighed.
Alanna looked to her pack member and then back to me, and she cocked her head a bit to the side.
I held back another sigh. “You wanted to know what was causing that fatigue in my expression earlier, right? Well, it was this: the feral are capable of walking into dreams and influencing what their victim sees in them. They don’t control them anymore once they’ve woken up, not like true possession, but some of the visions they create are real enough to linger in a woken mind. Trust me.” I glanced around Alanna to the would-be thief, who was now sitting on the ground with her head in her hands while people continued to argue around her. A wave of empathy washed over me. “Whatever they showed her apparently made her panic. I was hoping they wouldn’t go after any
body except me, but…”
I trailed off as Alanna was forced to turn her attention back to the group behind her. They were getting louder. More violent. I looked away as she rushed over to them. I found Kael first, who readily met my eyes because he was glad, I think, to focus on someone other than Will or Vanessa.
“Do you see what’s happening?” I said quietly, as much to myself as him. “Look at what they’re doing to us.”
Kael was distracted from replying by both Eamon and Lora, who at that moment untangled themselves from the arguing group and walked over to us. They were both shaking their head, exasperated. Lora had a streak of mud across her face, and the long braid that hung over her shoulder was uncharacteristically messy. It looked like someone had knocked her or shoved her down, and I had to take a deep breath to settle the irritation threatening to ignite in me.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Fine.” Her tone was clipped. “But people are getting kind of crazy over there.”
Which was exactly what the feral had been hoping for, I was sure.
With my fists clenching and heart pounding, I marched over and shoved my way into the middle of the fray.
“Enough,” I snapped, causing a momentary hush to overcome most of the crowd. And before I could lose their attention, I blurted out the best, most-alpha-ish speech I could come up with after zero preparation: “All of you are doing exactly what the enemy wants us to do—they’re trying to unravel us, because they know they can’t beat us if we’re all standing together. We have to do what they aren’t expecting. We have to unite, and we have to face them as that united force.”
My voice trembled a little. I hoped no one noticed. I was getting better at this sort of thing—better than I ever thought I could be— but it was still unnerving to try and speak with dozens of wolfish, irate eyes fixed on me.
“And we have to do it before it’s too late,” I added.
There was still a bit of quiet grumbling and bickering among the crowd, but I’d drawn enough attention that I figured now was as good a time as any to start dictating the plan that I’d been helping to coordinate. The sooner we moved out, the sooner we could start turning these frustrations and fears on our true enemy.
Ascendant (The Shift Chronicles Book 4) Page 17
