Maiden's Wolf (In Deception's Shadow Book 3)

by Lisa Blackwood

  After long moments of disquiet and uncertainty, the general finally set down the letter. He studied Beatrice and then Silverblade, his eyes sliding back to her. “So you say you are human. I remember my youngest mentioning a peasant girl who lived in the forest. Beatrice, is it?”

  She nodded, surprised he knew her name.

  “But somehow, I doubt very much that you are human.” The general turned his attention back to Silverblade. “I’ll ask again, who and what are you?”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  With a somewhat unhappy sigh, Silverblade realized he couldn’t maintain his disguise and gain General Stonemantle’s trust at the same time.

  “I’m a lupwyn scout by the name of Silverblade. I was tasked with infiltrating the human lands to study and watch. And more importantly, to see if you are a threat to the lupwyn nation. I had just concluded that humans were indeed not the threat we’d first thought, and then I had the misfortune to meet my first acolyte. My opinion changed. The acolytes are a great threat, but not just to lupwyns—they threaten all life. Perhaps humans most of all, since what the acolytes serve seems to prefer human slaves.”

  The general grunted unhappily, bringing one finger down to tap heavily upon the letter where it sat in the center of his desk. “This, written in my eldest daughter’s own hand, tells me many disturbing things. And while it also beseeches me to aid you, I will not lift one finger to help you until you tell me what has become of my daughters. The letter says very little about them.”

  Silverblade nodded. He hadn’t actually read the letter, but what the general said was probably true. From what he gleaned in the short time he’d known Ashayna, she seemed a capable leader, but wasn’t one to share details or anything too personal in nature. Her personal shields were a fortress. It might take a lifetime to be able to read her with any accuracy, Silverblade reflected.

  But General Stonemantle had known Ashayna for a lifetime, and clearly he’d picked up something in the letter that perhaps she hadn’t intended.

  “Ashayna’s letter mentions her own safety and that of my youngest, but it’s suspiciously vague in regards to Lamarra. That my oldest and youngest would leave without a word to me doesn’t come as a complete surprise. I raised them to be independent, loyal, and willing to do what must be done.” The general thumped his fist against the wooden desk top. “But Lamarra, my middle child, she is her mother’s daughter. She would not leave on some lark or at the behest of some magic wielder simply for the sake of a quest. Do not get me wrong. She is brave, but she has the soul of a leader and knows well the importance of communication.”

  The general stood and walked around the edge of his desk. He stood before Beatrice and frowned down at her.

  “That Lamarra has not tried to communicate tells me she cannot. And if she cannot, than it is likely because she is a prisoner.”

  The general’s expression challenged her to tell him that he was wrong. Although she sensed that he very much wanted to be wrong on this. But from what she had learned from Silverblade, the general was not wrong—Lamarra was a prisoner.

  Ashayna had specifically said not to mention it to the general, but now that he had asked, Beatrice did not know how she could lie to him without him knowing it. So she told a half-truth.

  “I cannot tell you what has become of Lamarra. I doubt the Crown Prince of the Phoenix or the Council of Elders could tell you either. From what I have gathered, there is a powerful creature of spirit that protects the Elemental city from all things of darkness. It sensed danger to the Stonemantle sisters. While the oldest and the youngest had their own protectors, I think this guardian of the city sensed that Lamarra was the most vulnerable of the three and he took it upon himself to protect Lamarra.”

  That wasn’t exactly a lie, Beatrice decided. She just hoped the general bought it.

  “Well that’s certainly a fanciful tale thick with lies and evasions, but perhaps with a hint of truth as well.” The general sighed and crossed his arms, his expression turning somewhat less stony. “I suppose if I ever want to see any of my daughters again, I will have to hear you out. The letter says that you will explain the plan in more detail.”

  *****

  Beatrice listened as Silverblade explained to the general what his daughters and the Council of Elders had learned about the acolytes, and, more importantly to her way of thinking, what it would take to kill them.

  General Stonemantle muttered something under his breath and then said more clearly, “I never did like Lord Master Trensler or his silent, dead-eyed acolytes. Never trusted them either, but I also lacked proof of their duplicity against the Emperor.”

  Again the general walked a circuit around his big oak desk, frowning and mumbling to himself as he moved.

  At last he looked back at Beatrice and Silverblade. “But enslaving and creating his own army is certainly an act of aggression. One neither I, nor the Emperor, will tolerate. I will meet with Crown Prince Sorntar. But without proof that the acolytes are what you claim, I cannot risk going against them. We will leave under the cover of darkness.” The general looked out the window, his expression far from peaceful. “In the meantime, we have candlemarks before then. You can tell me everything you know about the acolytes. I sense there are many things not mentioned in this letter.”

  As the general had said, they had many candlemarks before they could slip back into the forest unnoticed. In that time, he ordered a meal brought in, and in between bites of food and sips of hot tea, Beatrice explained the nature of the acolytes’ fearsome power. She went on to say that while there were few types of magic that could destroy the acolytes, there were some simpler, but effective ways of destroying them, such as arrows and burning oil.

  Throughout their conversation, the general scribbled details into missives for his senior officers, and Beatrice could only assume he was quietly readying his men. Perhaps in the coming days, they would finally be able to deliver a crushing blow to the acolytes.

  When nightfall came, General Stonemantle had Captain Nurrowford escort them in secret out of River’s Divide. Once they were outside of the city proper, they parted ways. Silverblade and Beatrice continued on to the forest where, in the dark shadows, several members of Silverblade’s pack awaited them in the company of two santhyrians. It wasn’t until they were well away from River’s Divide that the tight knot of tension lodged firmly between Beatrice’s shoulder blades relaxed.

  Once they returned to where the Elemental council waited, they would share the news with the Stonemantle sisters. A fierce grin spread across Beatrice’s face. With luck and a great bit of death magic, she might live to witness the acolytes’ destruction. Or at least witness them getting run off these shores.

  Although, she knew that even if they won this battle, they would still have to find a way to destroy Lord Master Trensler’s dark master and the rest of the acolytes still holding power over the mainland and the Emperor.

  But victory in war came one battle at a time. There was no way Beatrice was going to let them lose this one.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Little more than four candlemarks later, Silverblade found himself standing next to Beatrice while they awaited orders. He had resumed his lupwyn form, wanting sharper senses for what was soon to come. Almost as tall as a phoenix, he towered over Beatrice. But she didn’t seem to care and had tucked herself against his side. Overhead, the moon was high and darkness still ruled. To the east, the slight fading of stars promised dawn was approaching.

  Thanks to the swiftness of their two santhyrian mounts, they had made the journey back to the Elementals, reported what they’d learned of the general, and still had time to return to the pre-agreed upon destination.

  The destination had been chosen by Ashayna Stonemantle. She’d said it was far enough from River’s Divide that they could meet in secret, but not so far that the general couldn’t make the trip and be back in the city by dawn.

  Silverblade glanced around the open plain, flanked on
one side by a vast river. He knew this was the location where the human garrison had once made their armed camp. It was also the place where Ashayna Stonemantle had first met her bondmate.

  His eyes drifted over to the two where they stood conversing with the Elemental council. He was presently in his full lupwyn form and could hear every word of their conversation, but he wasn’t really paying attention to their words.

  Silverblade found it difficult to believe that so much responsibility had been heaped upon these two younglings. Neither of them were much older than Beatrice. Although, he supposed, since they were the leaders of the Twelve, and had been reborn countless times, they likely had lifetimes of experience. Still, when someone didn’t remember their past lives, did that really count?

  Frowning, Silverblade considered what Councilor Tav had said about the leaders being too young. Perhaps, but who was he to judge the gods and fate? So far, these younglings seemed to be doing a fine job. In truth, he didn’t envy them having to deal with the elders. His own mother had been a councilwoman for centuries, and there had been times that he had not understood her reasoning. As much as he’d loved her, it was still the truth.

  Even though Silverblade was an alpha, he’d always preferred the role of soldier over that of leader. In this, he was content to sit back, take orders, and protect the young ones when it was required.

  By Ashayna’s fierce expression, it looked like the leaders of the Twelve might need his protection sooner rather than later. He gently bumped his muzzle against Beatrice’s shoulder and indicated she should follow.

  “I think I’d like some armor first,” Beatrice said and patted his armor-covered chest. “Looks like they’re flinging verbal spears at each other.”

  “You can hide behind me if you like.”

  “Hah! You just want me to stroke your tail. Nice try.”

  “Perhaps not now,” he said with a bark of laughter.

  He glimpsed the white flash of her teeth in the dim light and then she was off, heading towards their leaders.

  By the time they reached them, he’d managed to fight back his laughter, and was just in time to hear the tail end of Ashayna’s conversation. It became apparent why her body language shouted her rage.

  “You will not threaten my father!” Ashayna turned to her bondmate, one eyebrow arched high. “You! Deal with your mother.”

  With that, Ashayna stormed away, heading in the direction of her sister. Silverblade and Beatrice sidestepped to allow the enraged human past.

  “You still believe her father may be an accomplice to the acolytes? Even after what Beatrice and I reported?” Silverblade asked the Queen of the Phoenix.

  Queen Talnarra arched one elegant, feathered eyebrow, the crimson feathers of her crest rising and falling just enough to betray her annoyance at his questioning. “Yes. Caution is best in this situation. The acolytes are a clever and deceitful enemy. Sensing and tracking their whereabouts has proven…difficult. Even you, a member of the Twelve, did not sense the ambush that killed your mother. The safeguards I have suggested will remain in place. Our most skilled archers will remain on the other side of the river, and should General Stonemantle prove false, he will die with the rest of the humans.”

  Silverblade stopped listening. Had the pompous, jewel-encrusted, so-very-superior ancient relic just blamed him for his mother’s death? A growl built in his chest and his own rage flared to life. So too did his pack bonds, and the surrounding forest was soon filled with the haunting sound of a lupwyn hunting call.

  Small, warm fingers closed around his wrist and power flowed through him. At that delicate touch, his and his pack’s rage was extinguished by soothing healer’s magic. One gentle, unstoppable wave spread out from where Beatrice touched his wrist. He huffed, but couldn’t muster up the rage again, not when she was pressed against his side. Leaning down, he nuzzled her hair and inhaled her scent. In his full lupwyn form, his mate’s scent was richer and fuller and had the ability to calm him.

  Slowly, reason returned.

  His judgement of Queen Talnarra was unchanged, but he did understand her reason for not trusting the human general or his men. But her attitude still left much to be desired. Perhaps she wasn’t usually this abrasive? After all, she had just been locked out of her own city by the Dead King.

  That one of the greatest workers of magic in the known world was fortifying his city to such an extreme that nothing was permitted to come or go, perhaps not even the Twelve, worried Silverblade on a whole new level. His displeasure with Sorntar’s mother was a trifling thing in comparison.

  Sighing unhappily, he knew if the worst came to pass, and the acolytes had already corrupted every creature in River’s Divide, he would protect and support Beatrice while she did whatever was required for the greater good.

  He glanced down at his beloved to behold her practicing a magic almost as fearsome as what the acolytes possessed. Apparently, she’d picked up on his thoughts and was in agreement.

  Beatrice looked down at her palm with fierce concentration. Between her splayed fingers a dark, shadowy magic danced. It flitted and fluttered like a living creature between each of her fingers. She flicked her wrist and the magic jumped from one hand to the other. Then, with a soft hiss of exhaled breath, she closed her fingers upon it and the dark power blinked out of existence.

  In the few days since Beatrice had joined the pack and studied under the tutelage of Councilor Tav, she had gained a better understanding and control of her fearsome power. Yet still, late at night, she would whisper her fears to Silverblade and tell him about her haunted dreams.

  He tried to reassure her, telling her it was simply a power, like a raging forest fire. Dangerous and capable of great destruction, but not inherently evil. In the coming moon cycles, Silverblade knew they would need her power, and Beatrice would have to be comfortable enough with it not to hesitate.

  He would guide her and together with his pack, they would feed her the power she needed to fuel that magic.

  “It’s actually becoming easier to summon and control with practice and the pack’s added support.” Beatrice looked up at him and grinned. “Have I ever said thank you for coming into my life?”

  Beatrice stretched up on her toes, and leaned forward to press a kiss against his fur-covered cheek, and then another along the side of his muzzle before she dropped back down onto her heels. Not yet completely trusting Beatrice’s easy acceptance of his true form, he still hesitated to return her affections. Although, even if she wasn’t as adjusted to his alternate forms as she pretended, at least it gave him hope that she would come to accept him in all his variations in time. For which he was glad. While he would take on human form for her sake, he hadn’t looked forward to the idea of becoming human for the rest of his long life.

  There was nothing quite as relaxing as being in one’s own skin. Even the thought of an army of acolytes camped less than a day away couldn’t dampen his pleasure at Beatrice’s affections.

  His thoughts were just starting to venture down the trail of pleasant memories when Autumn Shadow came pelting into the camp. She and a few of the swiftest of their pack had remained behind in the forests and fields near River’s Divide to track General Stonemantle’s movements.

  She skirted around the clump of elders and councilors and made straight for Silverblade and Beatrice. Once she reached them, she shifted, her four-legged full wolf form vanishing to be replaced by her two-legged lupwyn one. With a slight ducking of her head, first to him and then to Beatrice, she acknowledged them as her alphas and then with an efficiency he’d always admired, she started into her report.

  “General Stonemantle is leading a small army this way. There are also a number of acolytes with them.”

  Her words settled like a stone in Silverblade’s stomach. He would’ve sworn that the general had been uncorrupted, honestly wanting to work with the Elementals to rid his city of the acolytes.

  Scowling darkly, he concluded that any number of things could h
ave happened in the seven candlemarks since he’d last laid eyes on the man. A shipload of acolytes had just started coming into the harbor a few short candlemarks before he and Beatrice had left. He supposed it was too much to ask for their plan to proceed without challenge.

  The coming battle would have gone so much smoother if they’d had the element of surprise. But Silverblade had learned to adapt. In a war with the acolytes, it was adapt or die.

  “Come,” he said, gesturing both Beatrice and Autumn Shadow in the direction of the elders. Once there, Autumn Shadow divulged the rest of her report.

  Unfortunately, it sounded like the general had emptied the garrison and every soldier within River’s Divide was presently marching toward this location.

  *****

  By the time the vanguard of the human army was near the agreed upon meeting point, the majority of the Elementals present had taken to the air or vanished into the underbrush at the edge of the forest like ghosts. There they would wait, hidden from the humans’ senses. Silverblade doubted if they’d go undetected by the acolytes.

  Not that it mattered. They were ready this time and the acolytes would find that the Elementals were equally deadly enemies.

  For his part, Silverblade waited in the open at the edge of the river with the rest of the Twelve.

  They were the bait.

  Having to sit and wait for his enemies to attack first went against every instinct he possessed. Lupwyns were masters of the hunt—dark shadows, sharp teeth, glowing eyes among the trees, not bait laid out in the open. Silverblade gave a disgruntled huff of annoyance.

  Beatrice turned toward him, her one eyebrow arched. “You might as well get used to the feeling for the next candlemark or so. Human armies move very slowly. And until the rest of the acolytes are within striking distance, we’ll have to keep the vanguard distracted. You get to be bait just like the rest of us.”