Winter's Fallen (The Conquest of Kelemir Book 1)

by A. F. Dery

  “Innocent now, perhaps. Assuming he told you the truth, of course. But when he turns back into a man and thinks on it, how innocent will it be then?” the Murderer wondered, in a tone that suggested he wasn’t actually wondering at all but had a very good idea of the answer already.

  “I have no idea,” Grace said coldly, “but he would certainly have enough else to remember as a man without me troubling myself over a bit of petting now. You seem to forget we were sleeping together in the same bed not that long ago.”

  The Murderer went quiet. Unable to contain his curiosity, Rupert lifted his head and saw the man had gone very still over at the work table, but his expression was thunderous.

  “It’s inexcusable how he behaved, without you knowing what he was,” the Murderer said tightly. “Watching you all the time, and taking such…such liberties.”

  “If he was thinking as a wolf, he certainly would never have thought to question the propriety of it all. I’m not happy about it, mind, but it’s not quite as wicked as you’re making it sound,” Grace glowered. She looked down at him thoughtfully and added, “He’s soft and I like petting him, and I will keep petting him until he tells me to stop or bites me or something. It makes us both happy and if it ruins me for other wolves somehow, so be it.”

  There was a surprising amount of venom in her last words, enough so that he tensed. He looked again at the Murderer and saw he looked upset.

  “Grace-”

  “I’m going to make dinner,” she announced, standing up at once.

  “You can’t keep running away,” the Murderer said quickly. “We need to talk-”

  “Yes, I can. I think it should be clear by now that I’m plenty good at that,” Grace said bitterly. “And no, we don’t. You’ve made your position entirely clear. Perhaps the only thing that needs to be said is that I’m sorry I misunderstood you so terribly. But I suspect that affects me more than it ever did you. I’ll bring you up something when I’m done.” And she strode from the room, not even looking back as she usually did to make sure that he, Rupert, would follow.

  But follow he did. The Murderer called after her again, but she did not even slow her steps, much less respond.

  While part of him rejoiced to see her at odds with the Murderer, another part only increased in worry for her. He could see she was hurting, and it made him hurt as if in sympathy.

  It’s for the best though, if it keeps her from getting too close to him again, he told himself as he followed her down the stairs. If she were happy with him, she’d be in even worse danger.

  But once they were in the kitchen, Grace sat down on the floor in front of the fireplace and started to cry into her hands. The sound of her tears made him terribly anxious. His ears lowered and his muzzle twitched. He went up to her and nudged her with his nose unhappily, unsure of what to do, but she put her arms around him without hesitation and sobbed against his fur, as she once had after her nightmares.

  “I-I’ve been so s-stupid,” she cried. “Y-you wouldn’t believe how s-stupid I’ve been. It’s really, really bad. And I thought I was g-going to be all r-right, but I’m not. I’m not all right.”

  He felt helpless in his current state to comfort her, but at least she seemed to feel safe with him when he was like this. He wished he could hold her, or speak to her, or something, but he dared not go away to transform when she was this upset, and wasn’t certain his presence as a human would even be welcome.

  She is more comfortable with me as the wolf, he thought sadly.

  If he had been able to frown, he would have. Why does this even matter? I’m more comfortable as the wolf!

  He tried to push away his confusion and returned his attention to Grace, just as she drew back and looked down at him with wet eyes.

  “I’m confused,” she said, wiping at her cheeks with a sleeve. “That’s all. Just confused.”

  He wasn’t sure about that, but he laid his head in her lap, closing his eyes as she began to stroke his fur again.

  He didn’t know what else to do.

  “The research doesn’t seem to be going anywhere,” Grace said quietly after a while. “I’m worried about what he’ll do if he gives up again. I know you’re not, and you think this is all some ruse of his anyway…but I’m worried.” She hesitated, her hand pausing on his head. “I think part of the problem is that I don’t really know what I’m describing, or anything about what he’s doing. I mean, I do my best, and he seems to be ok with that, but…” Again she hesitated, and Rupert had a feeling of foreboding that made his ears prickle. “It would probably be more helpful if someone who actually knew about these things, about magic, helped him.”

  He lifted his head abruptly, turning to stare at her. Has she forgotten so quickly why I’m in this form to begin with? I need to stay calm, and I can’t around him.

  As if reading his thoughts, Grace said quickly, “I know you feel safer as the wolf, but…I do owe him, Rupert. I didn’t imagine that part. If he is being honest…your help could make all the difference.”

  Then she sighed, shaking her head and looking away. “No, no, I’m sorry. It’s wrong of me to ask this of you. He killed your brother, I can’t expect you to just be able to get along with him, no matter what the reason. And I can hardly expect you to want to save his life. I’m being selfish because I don’t want him to kill himself. I want him to live, even if…well, no matter what. I still think his life is worth something. I know you probably think that’s crazy, but if I say his life should be forfeit because of what he’s done…” She stopped, biting her lip, but he understood her then.

  She thinks she’s responsible for unknown evils done to her own village, her own family. Of course she wants to think there could be redemption, some kind of happy ending, he realized. It amazed him that she still seemed to place her instinctive self-preservation at being on the same level of evil as a man who engineered a plague using magic that killed hundreds.

  But apparently, she did, and he wasn’t sure how to convince her otherwise, or if it was even possible.

  He knew now what he had to do. If she needed the Murderer to live, in spite of whatever had passed between them, so be it. That filth’s suicide would not be on his paws. He would either prove the man’s deceit to her, or he would give him reason to keep the charade going until Grace could leave and be free of him. Either way, he would not let her torment herself over that rubbish another moment. He stood and went from the room, Grace calling after him in confusion.

  He could not help a Murderer pretend to cure a plague as a wolf.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Rupert’s screams were no less unsettling now that Grace knew what was happening to him. Her stomach lurched at the memory of what she had seen the last time he had transformed, and she felt shame at the surge of fear that ran through her when she thought of going after him.

  She had not realized at first what he was doing, of course. She had thought he might just be leaving her alone because he was finally fed up with her crass insensitivity, or maybe it was just her stupidity.

  But when he’d started screaming, from somewhere outside of the kitchen…then she knew.

  And she was scared. Her whole body felt cold. She wasn’t sure what to do.

  Do I go after him? It’s not like there’s anything I can do to help, she thought uncertainly, wringing her hands together.

  But after all the nights he had comforted her after her nightmares, and even now, as he’d patiently let her cry into his fur…I just can’t leave him to suffer alone. It’s not right.

  She was dimly aware that his magic could harm her. She wasn’t sure just what the possible repercussions of being in the same room as someone who was magically changing forms was. But just the same…

  She forced herself to her feet, and, considering, grabbed a spare blanket that she’d left in the kitchen to dry the wolf off with when he came in from hunting.

  Then she left the kitchen on leaden legs, following the sounds of anguish into one of th
e abandoned downstairs rooms. She had not troubled to clean them, since they were never used and had not appeared to contain anything that would be of value to her or to Hadrian, and the one he had entered was thick with dust.

  He writhed on the floor, an impossible conglomeration of protruding bones and stretched skin. Fur rippled along his flesh still, and his lips were peeled back from what were still canine teeth as he screamed, even as his ears shrank against the side of his head.

  It was so gruesome a sight that she felt her own scream involuntarily working its way up her throat, and she swallowed hard against it, her breath coming too quickly. She needed desperately to run, but she couldn’t seem to move.

  It was as though he knew at once that she had entered, though, for he whipped his head around, his wild eyes meeting hers, his screams momentarily subsiding as he struggled visibly to contain them. He tried to clamp his mouth shut, but the juxtaposition of wolf teeth in an increasingly human jawline did not allow it.

  There was something in his eyes, in that moment, that was so hopeless, so bleak, so human and yet not, that it jarred her. Suddenly she saw him exactly as he’d been describing himself all along, both wolf and man, and also as he had not: as a prisoner of his own body, his own magic, no matter what form he was in. He was both the wolf who had saved her from the storm and comforted her in the night, and the man who was determined, for whatever reason, to protect her, both from Hadrian and himself.

  She was at his side before she could think any better of what she was doing and draped the blanket over his thrashing body. She reached out with shaking hands and stroked the misshapen head that would soon round into humanity, silently fighting waves of nausea as she forced what she hoped was a reassuring smile onto her face. Her whole body shook and she prayed he wouldn’t notice.

  She thought she should say something comforting, something like, “it will be all right, it will be over soon,” but she didn’t dare open her mouth, uncertain of just what would come out of it if she did.

  Rupert’s hand grasped at her skirt, moaning as the transformation continued to take over him, and she patted his hand with her free one. He closed his eyes as he spasmed and she did the same, trying very deliberately to keep breathing through her terror.

  It was hard to say how long it took. To her, at least, it felt like it had to have been hours, but recalling the first time it happened, she knew it couldn’t have been very long in fact.

  She knew it was over when he pulled her into his arms. She felt guilty and ashamed, given that she certainly hadn’t been the one in unspeakable agony, but she started to cry uncontrollably, relieved beyond words that it was over.

  He stroked her hair much like she had once stroked his fur, and that made her cry harder.

  “I’m a t-terrible p-person, acting this way after…after you…” she couldn’t get it out.

  “It’s fine, Grace,” he rasped. His voice, always a little hoarse, was back to being very much so. “I can’t imagine what that must have looked like.”

  She shook her head mutely against him.

  “It’s over now,” he told her.

  “W-why did you do it?” She was becoming increasingly aware of the fact that he had a rough blanket draped only partially around himself and nothing else on, but she still didn’t move.

  She honestly wasn’t sure she could. She suddenly felt like there were no bones in her body.

  “I’m going to…help him,” he said after a moment. “I’ll just have to control my temper…somehow.”

  Grace was quiet as the words sank in. “You’re…you’re doing this for me, aren’t you? You don’t really believe he’s even trying to find a cure.” She was astonished. “Why? I told you, I was wrong to ask-”

  “No, you weren’t,” he interrupted. “You’re trying to keep him alive. Whatever my…feelings…about that…we have to make it through the winter, Grace. I don’t think you will…if he gives up.”

  “What if…what if he really is seeking a cure, Rupert? Would that change anything for you?” Grace closed her eyes, even though she couldn’t actually see his face the way she was positioned in his arms, with her face against his chest.

  He was quiet as though thinking it over. “No,” he said finally. “It wouldn’t bring my brother back. It wouldn’t make any difference at all.”

  Grace didn’t know what to say to that.

  “I…I need to sleep, Grace,” he said. “Transforming again…it hasn’t been that long since the last time I did it.”

  Now that he mentioned that fact, it suddenly seemed to her that he was swaying a little where he sat. She pulled away, alarmed. He looked very pale.

  “Can you make it up the stairs to the bed?” she asked uncertainly, but he shook his head slowly. “All right…let’s at least get you into the kitchen where it’s warm.” She hadn’t noticed when she’d been so scared before, but it was very cold in the room. She could see her breath clouding in the air as she spoke.

  She got to her feet and offered him her arm, but he shook his head a little and painstakingly stood, the blanket falling to the floor. She quickly averted her eyes from him, reddening in spite of herself. As often as she’d seen him naked, she felt like it shouldn’t bother her anymore, but somehow, it still did.

  She scooped up the blanket quickly and led him back to the kitchen, where he collapsed immediately in front of the fireplace, much as he might have done if he were still the wolf. She smiled in spite of herself, and covered him with the blanket, wishing she could have at least found him something to lay on other than the bare stone floor.

  It didn’t seem to bother him though. He was asleep before she’d even finished covering him with the blanket, snoring softly.

  “It didn’t take him long to turn back this time,” Hadrian’s quiet voice made her jump. She turned at once and saw him in the doorway. “He’s getting better at it.”

  “It sure didn’t feel any shorter to me,” she muttered, “and I doubt to him, either. It was horrible.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  “Why did you come down?” Grace winced a little at how rude she sounded. I shouldn’t be talking to him right now, I’m still rattled from what just happened…

  “I heard the screams. I wanted to make sure you were all right,” Hadrian sighed. “It takes me so long to make it down the stairs, if something had been wrong…”

  “Nothing was,” she interrupted quickly. Rupert stirred a little from the floor, and glancing at him, she moved closer to the doorway and lowered her voice a little. “He’s decided to help you with your research, Hadrian! He’ll be much better suited to the task than I am, since he’ll know the things you need by their proper names and all of that.”

  Hadrian blinked rapidly, trying to squint in her direction. “If you don’t want to help me-”

  “I do, you know I do, but Hadrian, I know nothing of herbs, magic, or anything else. I know we haven’t been making any progress. Rupert is a mage, like you. He might even come up with some new ideas for you once he sees what you’re doing, things you haven’t thought of yet!”

  “We don’t get along, Grace, that should be obvious after what happened the last time he was in human form,” Hadrian said, a little impatiently. He ran a hand through his hair. “I killed his brother, remember? You’ll be in more danger if we’ll be spending time in close quarters speaking to one another. I don’t understand why you value your life so little. It was going much better with him as a wolf, I thought.”

  “Well you thought wrong,” she said flatly. “Because your research isn’t going well, and I know better than to think you won’t try to use that as an excuse sooner or later to do something stupid.”

  “I already told you I wouldn’t do anything while you’re here, Grace-”

  “Yes, you did,” she interrupted, her eyes flashing. “You did say that, before we knew about Rupert. Now we do. I wouldn’t be alone here anymore. You also said something about that, in case you forgot. Sooner or later, you�
�ll talk yourself into thinking I’ll be just fine alone with him. Maybe even safer, since you wouldn’t be around to upset him, or him you. You’ll tell yourself that what happened before with his magic was some sort of fluke, because if you believe that, then you can just do what you want and fool yourself into thinking it won’t affect anyone else. Well, I’m sick of it, Hadrian!

  “You want me to believe what I did wasn’t such a bad thing. After all, it’s not like I killed those people, my own family, on purpose when I ran. But you didn’t kill anyone on purpose either, yet it’s still completely different because it’s you, right? And you don’t want to think that maybe I owe something to justice, too.”

  He opened his mouth to speak but she went on immediately, her voice rising in spite of herself. “And magic isn’t a dangerous thing, no, not at all, it’s the person using it who can be dangerous. But Rupert is a danger because of magic he can’t control…so…it’s his fault that he can’t control it? Don’t you think he would control it if he could rather than risk people killing him over it, or else spending the rest of his life as an animal in order to survive? Do you think he wants to kill me? He keeps going through this…this…torture of turning into a wolf and back again to keep me safe. But you say the magic isn’t what’s dangerous!

  “You imagine I have some sort of future ahead of me after what’s happened, because it’s what you want to be true. You’ve decided I’ll be perfectly happy with someone else, because that’s what you want to happen. You said the wolf saved me as though you had nothing to do with it, when I would have died if you hadn’t been here, because I think we both know he wouldn’t have transformed at that point to save a stranger. Not when we’ve seen…or heard…for ourselves what the transformation costs him. Hell, when you first said that, you didn’t even know he could transform, but you’ve decided your life can’t be worth anything, so there’s no way you can admit that you may have actually done something decent. In other words, Hadrian, you see only what you want to see, and you don’t want to keep living, so everything that happens, you’re just going to find a way to twist it until it justifies your choice to kill yourself, just like you twist everything else to suit yourself. It’s complete rubbish, and I’m not going to listen to it anymore! You can try to fool yourself all you like, but I’m done with you thinking that you’re fooling me, too.”