by Mac Flynn
I tilted my head to one side and frowned. "Why do we have to be careful?"
"Because we have no evidence, and our accusation is against Gethin. We may despise him, but he is respected by others," Erik explained.
My face fell. "Why the hell is that guy respected by anybody?"
"He is part of the guard, and there is some amount of awe that has been traditionally attached to that office. To some, it would be like we were accusing Teagan of high-treason," Erik told me.
Greg stepped forward and bowed his head to Erik. "Master, if you don't mind asking, what happened down there?"
"We found some men under Gethin's command setting boxes of stolen dynamite in the caves to cause the earthquakes," Erik revealed.
"And this evidence was Gethin?"
"Buried in the earthquake."
Greg pursed his lips. "I see, then might I propose there be an investigation into the matter, and that you volunteer yourself to be the head of it?"
Erik turned to his servant and raised an eyebrow. "What good would an investigation do if all the evidence is buried beneath tons of rubble?"
A sly smile slipped onto Greg's lips and his eyes flickered between Erik and me. "Perhaps there is more to find on the other islands than can be garnered here."
Erik folded his arms across his chest and frowned. "What are you up to, old friend?"
Greg clasped his hands behind his back and shook his head. "Nothing at all, my Master. I was merely making a suggestion."
"You don't make suggestions without some inside knowledge, now tell me what it is," Erik ordered him.
Greg bowed his head. "Your humble servant has merely heard rumors from some of the other servants."
"Gregory, tell me."
"Very well, if you insist."
"I do."
"I have this information from the cook's cousin's neighbor's nephew who resides on one of the outer islands around Market Island. Apparently they've seen some unauthorized boats sailing from the direction of Wolf's Island and towards the very tip of the island chain closest to the island."
"And this hasn't been reported?" Erik question him.
Greg shook his head. "No. The nephew works for a fisherman who doesn't always follow the rules himself, if you understand my meaning."
"And how is this connected to the earthquakes and Gethin?"
"The boat appeared only a few months ago, and some of the men on the boats have been identified as guards," Greg explained.
"And is there any chance that this nephew and his fisherman employer have been seen?"
"Doubtful, my Master."
Erik furrowed his brow and ran a hand through his hair. "Then we may still have a chance to find the connection and the evidence we need to present to the Council our suspicions."
"That's all nice and dandy, but what we do right now?" I spoke up.
Erik dropped his hand to his side and sighed. "For now let us go to my father and tell him what we've learned and offer our services."
He led our little group through the maze of passages and to the Council room. The noise of the room reached us before we reached the room.
"What of the Diggers? What have they to say about these earthquakes?" I heard Deacon shout.
"They will say nothing about them to us," came the reply from Teagan.
We came up to the open doors and found all but one of the Councilmen in various states of panic. The only calm one was the silver haired gentleman,And Lord Greenwood sat stiff but still in his chair. Deacon himself paced the floor in front of the chairs, and several others stood to the side or in front of their chairs, and listened to his questioning. Teagan knelt in the aisle in front of the pacing Councilman. I wondered where Lillian was.
"Do they still continue to refuse you entrance?" Deacon questioned Teagan.
"Yes."
One of the Councilmen who stood to the side pounded his fists on the wooden arm of his chair. "What's the point of this talking? Talking won't stop these earthquakes, and we can't take another one like that! Several of our villages are already decimated!"
"You won't need to," Erik spoke up. All eyes turned to us as we walked down the aisle to the large podium.
Lord Greenwood raised himself in his chair and furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"
"I have just come from the underground and witnessed who carried out these attacks," Erik told them.
"Attacks? Explain yourself," his father demanded.
"The earthquakes were caused by strategically placed boxes of dynamite recently stolen from a shipment," Erik explained. His eyes swept over each of the councilmen. I noticed Deacon paled when Erik's eyes settled on him. "There are two men who sought to create terror for their own ends. We overheard the pair mention that they had only a few boxes left and those were destroyed in this last earthquake."
The room was deathly silent. Everyone looked among each other. I can see suspicion and fear in their eyes.
Lord Greenwood stood to his feet and one of his hands gripped the arm of his chair. "And did you know these two who sought to terrorize us?"
Erik shook his head. "No. We couldn't recognize them."
"And where are they now?"
"Gone. They escaped down a tunnel and ignited the dynamite before we could catch up to them," Erik revealed.
Lord Greenwood pursed his lips and lowered himself back into his chair. "Then the Diggers were correct in suspecting us, and we must make amends."
"Not before we capture these men," Deacon argued. "Who knows whatever other mischief they may concoct. They could reveal our secret to the outside world. I recommend we send out a group of Guards to-"
"I would like to offer my services in finding these men," Erik spoke up.
Deacon turned to him with a frown. "And how would you be useful in this endeavor?"
"You've forgotten that I was the one who discovered them," Erik countered.
"Perhaps that was just luck." Deacon narrowed his eyes and scrutinized Erik. "But how did you manage to get into the underground when our Guards could not?"
"That is my secret, but my offer still stands. I would like to see what I might find, if the counsel will give me its permission," Erik insisted.
"Is anyone else opposed to this idea?" Lord Greenwood asked the men. Several shook their heads or said nothing at all. "And you have our permission to do this, but how are you to proceed? You yourself said you didn't recognize the men."
"No, but I have heard rumors from the other islands that something is amiss and will start my investigation there. I will leave this time tomorrow," Erik told them.
"Very well. Wolf speed to you," Lord Greenwood replied.
Erik turned and led us back through the doors. We walked in silence for a couple of halls until Greg stepped in front of his master.
"If you'll excuse me, my Master, but I will prepare the journey for three people," he offered.
Erik raised and eyebrow. "Three people? Do you intend to come?"
"I may be of some use. In my younger days I lived a few years along the islands I spoke of," he revealed.
Erik smiled and nodded his head. "Then prepare for three people," he agreed.
Greg bowed and hurried off to obey his master's command. I sidled up to Erik and looked into his face. "You really think we're going to find anything out there?" I asked him.
"We found very little at the Old Den. Searching further afield won't harm us," he commented.
I snorted. "It might."
A small smile slipped onto his lips. "Then you will be there to calm me down."
I returned his smile with a grin. "And you will be there to get me into trouble."
Erik leaned down and pecked a teasing kiss on my lips. "I will try my best," he promised.
I rolled my eyes and pushed him away. "Please don't. We may not survive."
I was about to find out how close that survival really was.
MOON CHOSEN #4
CHAPTER 1
"Sophia? Sophia!"
/> Someone roughly shook my shoulder. I growled and rolled away from them.
"I don't want to go to work. Tell my boss I'm on vacation. . ." I mumbled.
"In werewolf society I am your boss, and I refuse to accept your excuse," the voice replied.
My eyes snapped open. I lay in the large four-poster bed in the drafty room of the Old Den. The fireplace was devoid of its warm, comforting flames and all was quiet. I whipped my head up and found Erik beside the bed. His hands were on the edge of the bed and he leaned over me.
"What's that b.s. about you being my boss?" I questioned him.
"I don't believe you've failed to notice that this werewolf society is very patriarchal," he commented.
I sat up and glared at him. "No, but you'd better not try any of that stuff on me."
He leaned away from the bed and dropped his arms to his sides. His lips pursed and he shook his head. "It can't be avoided. We're going to be traveling through the islands, and many of the inhabitants are very conservative in their definition of gender roles. If you act differently from what they expect they may not speak to us."
I sighed and ran a hand through my messy hair. "You guys really need to learn that this is the twenty-first century."
"We know the year, we just don't care," he countered.
I hopped out of bed and began to dress myself. "Yeah, about that. Are all the islands as backwards as the Old Den or can I hope to get a grande mocha sometime soon?"
He shook his head. "Some are more modern than others, but none reach the level of technology as the outside world."
I paused in my dressing and turned to him with a frown. "So that means a 'no?'"
"Correct."
I shook my head and finished my dressing. "Damn. You guys need to learn how to live."
"We survive. That's enough for us," he replied.
I turned to him and folded my arms across my chest. "Really? Because I remember hearing about some peasants or someone who were a little ticked off about not having enough land."
"We'll validate those rumors along with learning more about Gethin's involvement in the stolen dynamite and the earthquakes," he told me.
I sat back down on the bed and furrowed my brow. "That's a lot of stuff to do in one visit. We sure we can do it?"
"We have to. Now be ready to leave in fifteen minutes," he ordered me.
I gestured to the room around me. "I don't exactly have anything to pack, so why not leave right now?"
He turned away from me and his gaze fell on the door. "We're waiting for Gregory to return."
I wrinkled my nose. "'Return?' Where'd he go?"
Erik shook his head. "I don't know. All he would tell me was that he had few items to retrieve for us and he would return quickly. That was an hour ago."
I snorted. "Are you sure he's the servant and not you?"
"Some days I do wonder," he admitted.
As though on cue there was a soft rap on the door and it opened to reveal Greg. On his back was a large backpack that towered a foot above his head and a foot on either side of him. He came up to us and bowed at the waist. I don't know how he kept from falling over.
"My apologies for taking so long, my Master."
"Did you find what you are looking for?" Erik asked him.
Greg smiled and nodded. "I did, and we are now well prepared for the journey."
I jumped to my feet and moved to stand beside Erik in a show of solidarity. "Come on, 'fess up. What did you get?"
"I wouldn't think about wearing you with such traveling trifles," Greg commented.
"Enough with the pretty talk and more with the showing," I demanded.
"Very well, if you insist." Greg reached into his right pocket and pulled out some brown-colored beans. "I fetched these from the garden."
I tilted my head to the side and wrinkled my nose. "That's it? That took you an hour to get?"
Greg pocketed them once more and smiled. "The culture on each island is very unique. What is deemed worthless on one isn't necessarily worthless on the other."
"But beans? Are they at least magic beans?" I asked him.
He chuckled and shook his head. "No, just simple brown beans."
"If you're done fetching produce then we should leave," Erik spoke up.
Greg bowed his head. "A good idea, my Master. I am ready whenever you are willing."
Erik moved over to the dresser where I noticed a cloak hung from the wall. The cloak was a light blue that changed color in different lights And around the caller was thick, white string to tie the floppy hood. He pulled the coat off its hook and turned to me.
"Since you insist on wearing those clothes you must at least wear this over them. It will attract less attention," he advised.
He held out the sleeves and I slipped into the cloak was a perfect fit in all the right places. The right sleeve length, the right height, and even a nice, cozy collar. "It's almost like it was made for me," I commented.
"Because it was. I had Gregory sew it over the last few days," Erik admitted.
I blushed. Damn cheeks. I looked at the ground and pulled the collar closer to hide the red. "Thanks. Really."
Erik smiled and bowed his head. "You are my lady, for as long as this arrangement will last. Now we should go." He walked past me and out into the hall.
"Yeah, while it lasts. . ." I murmured. I raised my head and caught Greg staring at me. He had a small, soft smile on his lips. I glared at him. "What?"
He shook his head and stepped aside. "Nothing at all."
"Good, now shoo." I waved my hands at him and herded him out the door. "We've got some trouble to make on other islands."
We rejoined with Erik in the hall and he led us through the maze of halls and down a mess of stairways. In a few minutes we arrived at an interior balcony which hung over a large entrance hall. We stood opposite another balcony, and a sweeping staircase with two wings joined the balconies and joined together at a wide landing. The staircase finished its journey downward at the start of the glistening, tiled marble floor far below us. Marble columns held up the high ceiling and hallways on either side of the bottom floor led to the depths of the Old Den. The front of the hall had a pair of large wooden doors that were twice my height. The walls of the hall were made of polished stone and hung with layers and layers of tapestries.
"Modest, but I like some of the tapestries," I quipped. My voice echoed through the cavernous area and bounced back at me a half dozen times over.
"This is the oldest part of the Old Den," Erik explained to me as he led us down the stairs. "My forefathers thought to impress visitors with their wealth."
"Did the island get a lot of visitors then?" I wondered.
"The place was bustling only a hundred and twenty years ago," Greg spoke up. "The hall would be filled with visitors to see the king and there would be stalls outside to welcome them with handcrafted trinkets and bobbles."
I swept my eyes over the empty hall and passages. "So what happened to make this a ghost den?"
"Over the centuries the islands developed their own cultures and the feeling of commonality disappeared. Now we are less of a pack and more a group of small countries, each vying for a little piece of a dwindling land," Erik explained.
"So how come you just don't find a new witch to make the fog bigger?" I suggested.
By this time we reached the double doors. Erik turned to me and shook his head. "The risk of discovery has been deemed too great."
"By who?" I challenged him.
"By the Council."
I snorted. "Great people to decide that. I've seen calmer chickens."
"They are the elected officials of each island. The people chose them to make their decisions for them," Erik pointed out.
"And what a good lot they chose. . ." Greg muttered.
Erik gave his servant a warning glance. "Whatever our feelings towards them, we have to remember that once we step foot on foreign soil we must follow their customs."
Greg clos
ed his eyes and bowed his head. "Of course, my Master."
Erik placed a hand on the door and gave a push. "Now let us go. Teagan waits for us outside."
I frowned. "Why?"
Erik half turned to me. "Have you forgotten the attempt on your life."
I sheepishly grinned and shrugged. "Maybe?"
"Teagan will personally lead us to the docks, and from there we will go to the other islands," Erik explained.
CHAPTER 2
The heavy door swung open under his great strength and revealed to us a whole new world, but it wasn't one I wanted to take a magic carpet ride through. Two dozen wide marble steps led down to bare brown earth that was an ancient road. On either side of the road was dead brush and trees. Their bare, black branches brushed against the rough stone blocks that made up the front of the Old Den. The trees were spaced evenly apart and created a lane of depression. The plateau of death was a half mile wide, and at either end was a steep drop to another steppe, of which I could only see the tops of the tall trees. Stone staircases led down to the lower levels. The road had a gentle slope that led down several miles to a small harbor in the distance. There were a half dozen long docks, but only two boats docked at it.
The feeling overall was one of decaying grandness. The road was twenty yards wide and must have held grand processions. The dead trees were tall and at one time well-pruned, and I noticed pits at the bottom that showed they once bore fruit. The bushes were in front of the trees and lined the road. Some of them still showed some evidence of their berry-producing past.
"Is this place dying?" I whispered. The solemnity of the area didn't allow any louder a voice than that.
"Yes. The dirt's nutrients rapidly depleted a hundred years ago," Erik told me.
"Ever hear of fertilizer?"
He led us down the steps and onto the dusty road. "All of them were tried, but none worked."
Teagan stood twenty yards down the road. His cloak was pulled back to reveal a long sword and an ancient revolver. In any other hands I would've thought such an old weapon useless, but I suspected that in Teagan's possession it was more dangerous than a machine gun.
