Moonlands

by Steven Savile

  It cast seven great shadows across the land below.

  They had talked a lot. She had so many questions. Every time he answered one three more sprung to mind. He was patient with her, despite her inability to grasp some things, such as why Jacob Grimm had felt the need to divide the two worlds forever, and what, precisely the Concord was, but a lot of her frustration came from the fact that Blaze didn't know the answer to her questions in the first place.

  And every new sight left her torn between memory, belonging and the feeling of being so very far from home.

  But she came to trust him.

  He scavenged, though he no longer fed her by hand like some injured bird, and dead animals were off the menu. The land offered a lot of shoots and berries and leaves that could be eaten if you knew where to look. Her cravings changed the longer she was here; she missed simple things like cheddar and bread.

  And every now and then she would catch him looking at her and she wouldn't be able to tell what the look meant.

  There was something about walking through a world where only two of them existed—a bond began to grow between them. They weren't friends, exactly, and she wasn't his prisoner, if she ever had been. They were uneasy companions. And whenever she caught him looking at her, her heartbeat quickened and she found herself looking quickly away.

  What she stubbornly refused to admit to herself was that she liked when he looked at her.

  The world they walked through changed, too, the further they travelled. While it was always breathtaking, alive, overwhelming colours and heady smells that were just ten times more pungent than anything she'd experienced back in London, they started to take on a different, dangerous quality.

  The first time she noticed it was when a thorn snagged her skirt and tore it, scratching deep enough into her leg to draw blood.

  The effect on Blaze was immediate and unbearable.

  "You are bleeding," he said.

  She hadn't realised she was. "It's only a scratch," Ashley told him. "Don't worry."

  Blaze shook his head. He knelt at her feet, and with his hand slowly raised the torn hem of her school skirt up her thigh until it exposed the shallow cut. She was trembling. She reached out to stop him as his finger traced the wound. His touch was like fire on her skin. Ashley flinched. His touch was incredibly tender, his fingers barely brushing against her skin. The skin around the scratch was already an angry raw red.

  "Sunshade," he said. "Do not fight me."

  And before she could stop him Blaze was squeezing at her thigh, digging his nails into the skin around the scratch and it was painful.

  He held her with his hands firmly gripping her waist.

  She didn't understand what was happening.

  Ashley tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong.

  Suddenly she was very, very frightened.

  "Don't fight me," Blaze rasped.

  His head darted forward and he bit her, sinking his teeth either side of the cut and sucking hard until the blood started flowing freely.

  She reached down, tangling her fingers in his hair, needing him for balance.

  He pulled away, turning his head to spit the blood out, before biting at the scratch again.

  He didn't stop until he tasted clean blood, with no trace of the Sunshade poison in it.

  He caught himself returning one time more than was necessary, not biting this time but rather licking gently across the edge of the wound to clean it. It was a curiously tender and yet completely animalistic moment.

  "Sunshade, one of the most deadly poisons there is. You are a very lucky young woman." Ashley wasn't about to argue with him. Her head was light, spinning, and her heart beat furiously against her chest, but she wasn't sure either one of them was down to the close brush with the lethal poison.

  He could have been lying for all she knew; this place was filled with plants she'd never heard of, and in the original Sleeping Beauty—long before the Grimm's softened the tale with their gentle Little Briar-Rose, there was a far more horrific fairy tale of sex and death—Sun, Moon and Talia, a single scratch put the girl to sleep for one hundred years only for her to wake, having given birth to twins, L'Aurore and Le Jour, Dawn and Day. Sun and Moon. There was no fairy tale kiss to wake her. She was raped. Ashley remembered her horror the first time she'd heard the true story. Before the Grimm's the fairy tales were far more horrific, their consequences barbaric, their morals often bloody and violent, the stories ending in tears.

  She wanted to ask Blaze about the Grimm's, and about why they would have gone around taking the horror out of the old folk tales, transforming the monsters into harmless things to be vanquished by the pithy young girl in the red riding hood and her ilk, but he quietened her with a clenched fist before she could.

  She stopped dead in her tracks.

  He pointed towards the east, where she saw a flash of red moving through the trees of the Tuskwood, though calling them trees was like calling Big Ben a clock or the London Eye a Ferris wheel. They towered over her, the trunks of the trees easily a dozen times wider than anything she could have comfortably wrapped her arms around. Ashley had never imagined there could be so many different shades of the same colour green, or so many different shapes of leaves that could still be called leaves despite being nothing alike. Vines and creepers trailed down the trunks and hung from the high branches. There were creatures up there, chittering and chattering as they swung through the canopy of leaves. They were too far above them for Ashley to make out anything beyond vague shadows. The only thing she knew for sure was that they weren't monkeys. She guessed they were the creatures that gave the wood its name. "We are within the hunting ground of Wolfhir, close to Jax's territory. We cannot risk discovery now, not with the moons changing. With the Warg Moon in the ascendency they're growing stronger by the hour. Stealth is our best hope, but I can smell them out hunting on the wind."

  He was right. She could see a red tinge to the light filtering down through the leaves. It wasn't a full angry red yet, but it would be soon. And when it was the Moongates would be closed. Ashley sent out a silent prayer to whoever might be listening, willing them to help Rain bring her mum and the others to her.

  She could see the change in Blaze, too, if she thought about it. Even in his human form his musculature was more pronounced, pumped up. The sheer power pent up within him made him seem to be bigger.

  His Wolfen blood must be tied to the Warg Moon—the red moon—in the same way that the tides were tied to the moon back home. Could it be possible that his strength waxed and waned with the tidal power of this one moon? She wondered. She wanted to ask him about it, but he pressed a finger to his lips to sush her.

  Blaze moved in close, sniffing her. "You still stink of that other place. This is not good. We cannot draw attention to ourselves. They are good hunters. I trained most of them myself."

  Before she could say anything he scooped up a fistful of mud and smeared it across her face. Even as Ashley tried to fend him off, Blaze did it again. "I am trying to keep you alive, princess." Blaze rasped. So saying he slathered another slop of mud across her face and arms even as she tried to fend him off.

  He sniffed her again, and then scooped up more of the thick mud, not stopping until he'd covered her from head to toe. This time when he sniffed at her, he seemed content.

  "Come. Now. Quiet."

  He crept through the undergrowth without making a sound.

  Ashley wasn't anywhere near as graceful. It wasn't her fault. She was a city girl. She'd never lived in the country, not really, not even when she was in Godalming. Compared with the Tuskwood Godalming was a thriving metropolis. She crunched through the fallen twigs and mulching leaves earning a finger to the lips from Blaze. He signalled her to stop, so she did. "I smell hunters." His nostrils flared and she didn't doubt for a moment that he did indeed smell some unseen hunters on the wind. "Damn this form," he cursed. "I shall try and lead them away from here. Do not move. Do not make a sound. Don't even breath
e if you can help it."

  Blaze didn't wait for her to acknowledge him. He raced away through the trees, leaving her alone.

  Standing utterly still Ashley realised that she could hear everything: every whisper and sigh of the breeze blowing through the canopy of leaves up above, every shuffle and scrape of the forest dwellers grubbing about on the ground. And it was on all sides. She could have sworn she could hear the trees themselves creaking and groaning as they grew. It was so different from London, but in its own way, no quieter. It was just a different kind of noise.

  She waited for Blaze to return.

  Something was drawing her toward the towering bone-white tower of the Shard. She couldn't explain what it was. She had the same feeling whenever she crossed the Waterloo Bridge on the way back out of London to see her old friends. It was a sort of homecoming.

  A few minutes later Blaze came crashing through the undergrowth, startling Ashley out of her daydream. His skin was matted with sweat. There was a wildness in his eyes. He was bleeding from a wound in the shoulder. Three wounds, she realised. A slash of claws.

  She saw flashes of red fur behind him.

  "Redpelts, Jax's personal guard. I can't fight them like this. We need to find somewhere to hide you." He looked up at the patch of sky visible through the leaves above them. It was red. Full blazing red.

  She hadn't noticed the change.

  She knew what it meant.

  The Moongate was closed.

  There was no way of knowing if the others had made it through before it did; what the Warg Moon really meant was that she'd have to concentrate on saving herself. "Even in my true form I could hold them all off, not when the moon is full. If you value breathing, princess, run!"

  Ashley didn't need telling twice.

  She raced after him as he plunged through the undergrowth.

  Neither of them cared about making noise this time.

  They ran for their lives.

  Thin branches whipped at her face and body. Thorns scratched at her hands and arms. They stung. But they didn't send her to sleep for a hundred years. This wasn't a fairy tale. The thorns hurt. She could only hope they weren't Sunshade.

  Ashley heard them crashing through the undergrowth behind them.

  They burst into a clearing.

  The red moonlight came streaming down.

  And then she tripped on an unseen root that had grown up through the dirt to form a hook. The root snared her foot and she went sprawling, landing on her hands and knees.

  She tried to stand, but her ankle wouldn't support her weight and she stumbled again. Even as Ashley stubbornly tried to push herself back to her feet again, Blaze was on top of her. He pushed her down with all of his weight and scraped up dirt furiously with his hands.

  She started to spit the flecks of dirt out as the hit her mouth, still trying to stand, but Blaze wouldn't let her. He scooped up more dirt and leaves.

  Ashley realised what he was trying to do: bury her.

  Instead of panicking, she scooped up a handful of fallen leaves and spread them out like a blanket over her legs. It wasn't much, and surely couldn't fool the Redpelts, but there wasn't a lot else that she could do. She lay down, letting Blaze throw a few more leaves over her, and hoping that it would be enough.

  Blackwater Blaze drew himself to his full imposing height as the Redhart Guard rushed into the clearing.

  She heard one of the Redpelts growl. She didn't dare move, not even just to turn her head slightly so that she could see the speaker.

  "You don't need to die here, stranger," the Redpelt said, smoothly.

  "Don't you recognise me, Ghostwalker?"

  "Should I, human?"

  "I think you should," Blaze said. "Use your nose."

  The Redpelt sniffed the air, once, twice, and a third time, sharply. "You?"

  "Me," agreed Blaze.

  "This body does not suit you, Blackwater Blaze. You look weak."

  "But I am not. You know that, Ghostwalker."

  "Where is the girl? You cannot save her from us, Blaze. It is her time to join the Great Pack."

  "Ashkellion is under my protection."

  The Redpelt sighed. It was an incredible human sound. "Redhart Jax is most unhappy with you, Blackwater Blaze, do not make it worse for yourself by fighting the wrong fight. You cannot stand against the entire world."

  "I won't need to. When word spreads that Ashkellion, daughter of Tanaquill, rightful heir to the Dragon Seats, has returned others will stand with me."

  "You are a lone wolf, Blaze. No one will stand with you."

  "And you still talk too much, Ghostwalker. Are we going to do this?"

  "Are you in such a hurry to join the Great Pack yourself?"

  Blaze said nothing. He dropped to his hands and knees. "I hate this body, princess," he muttered, quietly enough that only she could hear. And then let out a piercing roar, throwing back his head. His hair streamed out behind him and his face burned red in the moonlight, his cheeks and jawbone twisting, snapping and growing into the jowls of a feral wolf. His hands stretched, nails turning into claws. But he couldn't allow the rest of his body to shift; it would have weakened him too much and left him vulnerable, so Blackwater Blaze faced the Redpelts head-on, trapped halfway between man and wolf.

  Three more Redpelts joined Ghostwalker in the clearing, spreading out in front of the Wolfen. There was no way he could face all four down, not when they could take him from different sides. Ashley could see two of them. They looked so much less human than Blaze as they prowled, heads low, sniffing at the dirt as they moved. She desperately regretted having asked him to shift his shape. He had weakened himself for her and was almost certainly going to die her because of it.

  "I always liked you, Blaze. Turn her over to us and you won't have to die."

  Still Blaze said nothing.

  "Why give your life up for her?" Ghostwalker asked. "I don't understand. It isn't your fight. It is the game of kings. Let the kill each other. It is none of our concern."

  "I wouldn't expect you to understand honour," Blaze said finally. "She is the daughter of the Fae Queen. She is not some girl. Join with us as we march on the Shard. Stand with us as we confront the King Under the Moon. Help deliver the Queen's justice. It is time for Ashkellion to wear the Briar Crown."

  "You are Sun Touched, Blaze. You have lost your mind. It is time we put you out of your misery."

  Ashley hadn't realised she was holding her breath until it leaked out through her lips.

  The head of the nearest Redpelt came up.

  It stared right at her.

  "I see you," the Redpelt sneered.

  She didn't move. She could tell by the way he was staring that he couldn't actually see her, even if he knew that she was there. She didn't know why or how, but the mud seemed to hide her from the Wolfen Guard. He was smaller than Blaze, but not by much, and he wasn't alone. But Blaze was an Alpha, head of his pack even if he was caught in the middle of the shift. He had his claws and teeth. He wouldn't die easily.

  "You're seeing things, Whiteclaw," Blaze goaded, still not moving from her side. "The traitor is a long way from here. I left her in a cave beyond the Troll King's Gate."

  "You are a terrible liar, Blaze. Her stink is all over your skin."

  "You'll have to kill me to find out then, won't you?"

  "If it comes to that," Whiteclaw purred. "It will be an honour to wipe out the Blackwater Pack once and for all."

  Blaze didn't wait another second.

  He threw himself forward, his huge stride eating the ground between them, and tore out Whiteclaw's throat with a single savage bite before the Redpelt could even begin to defend himself. He spat out the gristle and turned on the other three, Whiteclaw twitching on the ground between them.

  "Who will be next to die?" Blaze asked, quite matter-of-factly. The blood around his muzzle made him look like a monster. Ashley couldn't take her eyes off him. Half man, half wolf. All savage.

  "You," Gho
stwalker said, and the three remaining Redpelts came at Blaze at once, tooth and claw and blood and fur flying as they set upon him.

  Blaze howled in anger and pain. It was a horrible sound. He lashed out with scything claws, catching Ghostwalker across the jowls and opening a second leering smile on the Redpelt's face. Ghostwalker responded by snapping his powerful jaws into Blaze's right arm, sinking his teeth wickedly deep and opening him up for another attack from the other Redpelts.

  Ashley knew she had to do something.

  Blaze couldn't win this fight alone, and he was only fighting to protect her.

  She rose up out of the leaves and the mud, clutching the umbrella handle in her fist, and without thinking about what she was doing ran the couple of steps to where Blaze fought for his life. She thrust the tip of the umbrella into the nearest Redpelt's back even as it's huge powerful jaws closed around Blackwater Blaze's throat, and pushed even harder, driving it home. The Redpelt howled. Blaze used that second of agony to kill his attacker.

  "Do not look," he said out of some sort of compassion, maybe, wanting to spare her the worst of the kill.

  It was over quickly but not mercifully.

  Still trying not to look, Ashley dragged the umbrella free of the tangle of bodies.

  The impact of the blow had broken it.

  One of the tines stuck out at a strange angle, and part of the canvas was torn and bloody. That wasn't the worst of it; that was fixable. The real damage was where the tip had been stabbed home. She could see a coil of cracks spreading up the length of the umbrella from there. There was no way they could be repaired. The thing was worthless. She wasn't about to complain, it had saved their lives. As umbrellas went, that made it fairly special. Maybe that was why Aunt Elspeth had left it to her? Everything else had a purpose, and what better purpose than saving her life?

  Even as the thought hit her, a small splinter of wood broke off right down by the tip.

  There was something beneath the wood. It glimmered in the strange moonlight.

  Blaze drove the other two Redpelts off, licking their wounds.

  He howled a challenge at the sky.