by Shae Ford
It was like a bird’s view of a war. Kael recognized the painted forms of wildmen charging all around — battling monsters that looked like dragons with furry chests and no wings. They were wynns: the monsters that lived at the mountain’s top and fought with the wildmen for centuries. He recognized the cool, frozen slits of the largest wynn’s eyes and knew it had to be Berwyn — their King.
He was so entranced by the stony battle beneath his feet that he nearly ran smack into the man standing at the keep door. “What are you doing here, Marked One?”
Kael recognized the haughty voice before he even met the strange, glowing eyes of Silas. The halfcat was dressed in what looked like the pelts of wolves — with two of their great furry backs draped across either shoulder and sewn into the leather of his jerkin. But though he was far more clothed than Kael had ever seen him, his feet were still bare.
“What business do you have in my village?” he growled again.
“I’m here to see Gwen.”
The short crop of his dark hair seemed to stand on end for a moment; the glow in his eyes turned fierce. “No — you can’t see her.”
“Why not?”
“You’ll only make things worse, you stupid human.” His eyes scraped down him haughtily. “You are always making things worse.”
“What do you —?”
“Hello, cat.”
Silas’s eyes went wide at the sight of Kyleigh striding through courtyard. He darted past Kael, waving his arms in desperate arcs. “No — go away, Dragoness! Your scaly face will only make her angry.”
“Nonsense. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see me.”
“You know she will not be thrilled,” he growled through bared teeth. “You’re just here to cause trouble. And I won’t let you trouble my Thane.”
“Is that so?” Kyleigh crouched, and her hands curled into claws as a daring smile parted her lips. “Then why don’t you try to stop me?”
Much to Kael’s surprise, Silas charged her with a roar. His body moved from a sprint into a fantastic leap, twisting in midair. His powerful limbs shortened and fur burst down his back. In less time than it took for Kael to breathe in, a great mountain cat had erupted from the jerkin and pounced onto Kyleigh.
She rolled to avoid his grasping claws and thrust her heels beneath his chest — sending him flying with a terrified yowl. He landed with his feet already beneath him and whirled around to charge again.
But instead of turning to face him, Kyleigh dove straight for the jerkin.
Silas ground to a halt.
“What have we here? Is the great King of all beasts worried about losing his human clothes?” she teased when he growled, holding the jerkin aloft.
Silas’s muscles bunched atop his shoulders; his great claws scraped menacingly against the cobblestone.
Kyleigh shrugged. “Well, I suppose you should’ve thought of that before you leapt out of them.” Then with a grin and a powerful heave, she tossed his clothes straight over the wall. “Come on, you,” she said as she trotted by, grabbing Kael around the arm.
Silas roared at their backs, but Kyleigh only laughed.
“Oh, open the wall for him,” Griffith hollered through his grin.
After the things Griffith told him and the way Silas behaved, Kael was beginning to get concerned. Gwen had never been the most reasonable of wildwomen, but now he feared things might’ve actually gotten worse.
And he shuddered to think of what a less reasonable Gwen might look like.
By the time they stopped outside the throne room doors, Kael’s heart had inched its way up his throat. “What am I going to find in there, Griffith?”
The boy’s hand paused upon the latch. When he looked up, his eyes were strange: hard around their edges, soft and helpless in the middles. “Just … try to understand, will you? She’s lost all she knows.”
“We’ll speak with her,” Kyleigh assured him, her stare already burning its way through the door. “Leave it to us.”
This seemed to calm Griffith more than anything Kael could’ve thought of. He pulled the door open with a quick tug.
Kael stepped in first, his eyes searching the edges of the room for trouble. His lungs lost their breath when he saw that the oaken panels along the wall had been set and restored. There weren’t bookshelves ringing the walls anymore. Instead, the shelves had been replaced by hooks, and settled onto the hooks were the wildmen’s dragonsbane weapons.
They glittered in the dancing light of the hearth fire — swords, spears, and axes. Just a few months ago, most of these weapons had been melted into collars and hung about the throats of the Earl’s beasts. The craftsmen must’ve labored over each piece, reshaping them into the proud weapons of their ancestors. Though they no longer warred with the wynns, the wildmen had found a place for their ancient swords.
Kael thought the room suited them rather well.
Set into the stone above the panels were the heads of Gwen’s prized beasts. Badgers, foxes, wolves, and bears snarled down at him in a ring. The craftsmen had set their mouths and bared their teeth — leaving each one looking as if it was letting out a roar.
But though the weapons and the beasts were certainly remarkable, it was the floor that stopped Kael short.
It seemed like ages ago that the craftsmen had uncovered the Wright’s eye carved into the castle’s floor. There’d been so much dust and grit, the room around it so ruined that the eye itself hadn’t really stood out. But under the craftsmen’s care, it’d become the centerpiece.
Each of the crisscrossing lines had been polished and painted to a shine, forming three triangles on top, three interlocking triangles on the bottom, and one blackened triangle in the very center — the pupil of the Wright’s eye.
He was so focused on the shining center of the eye that he hardly glanced at the wide table situated on a shallow platform at the back of the room — and consequently, he didn’t notice the woman sprawled in the chair behind that table until her words slid across him:
“Well … what have we here?”
Kael tore his eyes away from the floor and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end as Gwen’s sharp eyes locked onto his. The swirling lines of her paint were gone — replaced by pale skin and freckles. Her lips were such a light shade of pink that had it not been for the shadows cast by their arches, he didn’t think he would have seen them. But though the bareness of her face made her look less menacing, it didn’t make her smirk any less annoying.
“Hello, Gwen,” he said evenly.
He jumped when her heels slammed onto the tabletop.
She traced the arches of her lips carefully with the tip of one finger, her stare never breaking from his. Her finger dragged a slow line down her jaw until it settled beneath her chin. “You’ve finally come to your senses, have you?” she murmured, and her smirk broke into a sharp grin. “I knew you’d come to them eventually. You’ve decided to accept my offer.”
Kael’s face began to burn for an entirely different reason. “Wh —? No, I haven’t!”
“You have. Why else would you come storming into my throne room? And in the dead of night, no less.” Her eyes glinted. She slung her legs off the table and her boots struck the floor. “Your passions have carried you across land and sea. There’s no other possible explanation.”
Kael stepped back when she began clomping towards him. “No, that’s not — I’m not going to marry you, Gwen. I’m already married! And we’re very happy, thank you.”
“We’re?”
“Yes. We …” Kael reached out beside him, but Kyleigh wasn’t there. The doorway was dark and empty. He was completely alone with Gwen. By the time he realized that he’d been tricked, it was too late.
She was already upon him.
“You knew this would happen one day.” Her fingers wound tightly into the fabric of his shirt; her grin made his blood burn and boil all at once. “There’s no shame in it.”
“For the last bloody time, I’m not —”
“— at all interested in the bearish advances of a lady Thane,” Kyleigh finished as she strode through the door. “Though it has been rather amusing to watch.”
Kael didn’t even have a chance to yell at her before Gwen hurled him aside with a roar. “You!”
She lunged, but Kyleigh managed to avoid her fist with a graceful step. Gwen spun and her foot came down upon Kyleigh’s heel, trying to pin her. But she must have forgotten about the deadly spurs that stuck out from the dragonscale boots.
Gwen burst out with something that was halfway between a yelp and a swear before she snatched one of the golden spears off the wall and limped after Kyleigh — her every other step leaving a red, wet spot behind her.
“I swore that if you ever came back here, I’d put a hole between your eyes!”
“Lucky for me your aim is terrible,” Kyleigh retorted as she slipped behind the table.
Gwen hurled the spear with a snarl.
Kyleigh ducked.
Kael groaned when the weapon thudded into the oak paneling, splintering its polished flesh. “There’s no need to go throwing things —”
“Argh!”
Gwen vaulted over the tabletop, hands curled for Kyleigh’s throat. Instead, Kyleigh tilted the table and caught Gwen against it like a shield. The Thane flopped helplessly onto the floor. Kyleigh flipped the table on top of her before darting away, laughing as the Thane’s fist crashed through its top.
She ripped the table aside, clawing out from beneath the ruins like the Witch’s army had done at Wendelgrimm. Bits of table splintered between her trembling fists and her face boiled red as she roared.
Kael tried to step into her path, but she shoved him aside — following Kyleigh out the door.
There were some muffled swears, the thud of fists, and then a crash. When he charged out into the hallway, he saw both women had burst through the keep doors, splintering them from their latches.
They were tangled in the drifts: a mass of limbs and flying fists — grappling, landing blows. Snow matted Gwen’s furs and caked the edges between Kyleigh’s scales. Wildmen seemed to pour in from every corner of the courtyard. They beat their chests and roared for their Thane. But though the wildmen urged her on, Gwen was quickly losing ground.
Kyleigh had already pinned her on her back. She wrestled Gwen’s arms beneath her knees and leaned forward to avoid the flail of her legs. Then slowly, her hands wrapped around Gwen’s throat.
The wildmen’s cheers grew louder; their pounding became more desperate. They tried to will Gwen to her feet with their song — tried to goad their Thane into fighting back.
She dug her nails into Kyleigh’s legs but couldn’t pierce the scales of her armor. Her boots flailed though empty air. Finally, the edge of her eyes dulled. It went out like a candle’s flame and her fierce snarl went soft. Even when Kyleigh took her hands away, Gwen lay limp and defeated beneath her.
The courtyard fell silent. Griffith stepped in front of Kael ever so slightly, just enough to eclipse his shoulder with his sword arm. He followed the line of the boy’s eyes back to where Gwen lay and tried to be patient.
The two women held each other’s gazes: Gwen’s shielded, Kyleigh’s searching. After what seemed like an age, Kyleigh reached out and prodded Gwen hard in the chest.
She didn’t move.
“Blazes … you really are in trouble, aren’t you?” Kyleigh murmured.
Gwen shrugged. Her head cast to the side and she grumbled something that Kael couldn’t hear under her breath.
Kyleigh leaned forward, her palms thudding into the ground on either side of Gwen’s face. “Well, that’s a shame. I didn’t want it to end like this — not after you barely put up a fight. But I suppose there’s no point in us waiting around Thanehold.” She popped onto her feet with a sigh. “Come on, Kael. I’m afraid the wildmen can’t help us.”
Though she made a great show of marching towards the wall, he thought he caught a glimpse of her smirk as she turned away. Kael only managed to take half a step before Griffith snatched him around the arm.
“Wait — help with what?” He raised his voice to shout at Kyleigh: “What have you gotten into, pest?”
“Nothing I can’t get out of,” she said with a shrug. “But it just so happens that it was something I thought might interest you lot.”
“What is it?” Griffith pressed. Curiosity stained his features by this point, and Kael suddenly figured out what Kyleigh was up to.
He had to try very hard not to smile as he ruffled Griffith’s stripe of hair. “Don’t worry about it. We were wrong to come here. Gwen’s in no state to be battling anyth —”
“Battle?” The Thane sat up immediately. Flecks of snow wound through her fiery crop of hair. “What battle?”
“Never mind it,” Kyleigh insisted with an impatient wave of her hand.
Kael nodded in agreement. “Yes, it’s far too dangerous — even for the wildmen.”
That did it.
Gwen leapt to her feet with a roar. Snow fell from the bristled ends of her furs as she stomped for Kael. When she grabbed him by the shirt, he saw the edge had come back to her eyes. She wore the same fierce snarl she’d had when she met Titus’s army at the summit.
And when she spoke, he was actually glad to hear the sharpness ring in her voice: “Tell me what you know, mutt. If there’s a battle within a thousand miles of Thanehold, the wildmen will have a part in it.”
CHAPTER 13
The Tales of a Halfcat
“No.”
The word bounced off the throne room walls, slid across the ceiling and down to the floor, where it ground against Kael’s ears.
“No,” Gwen said again. She’d fallen silent the moment they began to speak, and her gaze sharpened by the minute. Kael swore she hadn’t blinked.
Still, he couldn’t believe her answer. “You aren’t going to help us? The King ran off our entire village!” he said when she shook her head. “He sank dozens of ships, sent a hundred innocent men to their graves —”
“Innocent? I think not.” Gwen leaned back in her chair. Her boots squeaked as she shifted her heels against the tabletop. “The pest has troubled the wildmen for years, and I’m not at all surprised to hear that she’s been troubling the King. But while we are content to simply chase her away, I imagine a crime against Midlan would not be so easily forgiven — and those who hide an outlaw from the crown are no better than traitors, themselves. Whatever happened to your village was a punishment well-deserved, I’m sure.”
It was only the knowing that Gwen wanted him to lose his temper that kept Kael’s voice even. “The King hates whisperers. He’s murdered hundreds of us, and if he finds a whole nest in the Valley —”
“Lies,” Silas purred. “Why would a King who sent his Marked Ones on a sacred task suddenly turn against them?”
“It’s not the same King,” Kael said through his teeth. “The wildmen were sent to the mountains centuries ago. There have been dozens of Kings since then.”
Silas inclined his head, eyes already aglow with triumph. “Still, I’m sure they’ve kept the tale alive. A task of such importance would not be so easily forgotten.”
“An excellent point,” Gwen murmured, smirking.
Beside her, Silas stood with his hands behind his back, chin raised to an obnoxious height. He watched Kyleigh through the bottoms of his lids — and judging by the way she glowered back, it was all she could do to keep from wiping the smug look off his face.
But she said nothing in reply. Though a span of silence passed when she could have spoken up, she didn’t. Kael could only hope it was because she had some sort of plan.
Still, he wasn’t giving up. “What about Titus? He was one of the King’s rulers, and you certainly had no problem crushing him.”
“Titus was a traitor,” Gwen said with a wave of her hand. “He wanted the mountains for himself.”
“Once he got to the top, perhaps he did decide to keep them,” Kael allowed. “But who
do you think sent him to the mountains in the first place? Do you really think Crevan would’ve sat by while Titus’s army tromped through his lands? I’ve seen the power of Midlan, and believe me — no army could make it into the Valley without the King’s permission.”
“Really? I seem to remember your pirates climbing to the summit with no trouble at all,” she retorted.
“Well, they came in by sea,” Kael said, thinking. “Titus didn’t have that option.”
“I should think no path would be closed to one of the King’s rulers,” Silas mused.
Gwen nodded. “Yes, I believe you’re right. This reeks of the pest’s mischief,” she said, turning her glare upon Kyleigh. “The King won’t stop until he has her in chains … and anyone who helps her will pay the price. The wildmen aren’t traitors,” she added, eyes narrowing as she balanced a finger against her chin. “But we’re grateful for what you did at the summit — and as a show of our gratitude, I won’t skin you alive and pass your hide onto the King. I’ll even let you stay the night, if you wish.” Her boots clomped to the floor and she rose from her seat. “But you’re to be gone by morning, pest. Silas will show you to your chambers.”
“My Thane,” he said with a slight bow. Then he jerked his chin at Kyleigh. “Follow me, dragoness.”
She did — so closely that she must’ve trampled on his heel. Kael heard him yowling from the hallway.
But he didn’t follow. He stood before Gwen, matching her glare with one of his own. All the furious things he wanted to say wriggled dangerously on the edge of his tongue. She was being a fool. He wanted to say it with the full force of his lungs, to yell so loudly that it would pound against her ears each time she stepped into the room:
You are a fool.
But he knew by the way she smirked at him that yelling would get them nowhere. She wanted him to yell. She wanted him to fight. So instead of losing his temper, he forced himself to stay calm.
“I hope you’re right, Gwen. I hope Titus was a traitor. Midlan saw us fly this way. I wager they’ll be in the Valley by week’s end … imagine how angry the King will be if he finds out the wildmen slaughtered a loyal ruler.”
