Moon Battle (The Wolf Wars #4)

by H. D. Gordon

  Shifting back into my mortal form, I climbed up on a wooden platform where countless Wolves had been sold into slavery, or publicly executed for some infraction or another. From up here, I could see out across the fields of lavender wheat, could see that thousands of Wolves had stayed.

  My voice came out clear and strong, despite the fact that my body was utterly weary.

  “My name is Rukiya Moonborn,” I told them, and was not prepared for the chorus of deafening howls that filled the morning sky.

  My oldest friend flashed me another grin, the one Goldie employs when she knows she is right.

  The Wolves had been waiting for me. They were ready to fight. They were eager.

  When the cheers and howls died down, I cleared my throat and began again.

  “I can’t give you your freedom,” I said, and a sobering quiet rippled through the gathered. The amount of eyes on me felt almost like a physical weight. I made sure to speak loudly enough so that every Wolf present would hear my next words.

  “The other four Pack Masters are coming, and they are going to bring massive armies of Hounds,” I added, and now the silence in the square was deafening. “Those who do not wish to fight should leave now. Take to the rural lands, avoid the patrols.”

  I glanced at Goldie, and received a nod of encouragement. “I cannot grant you your freedom,” I repeated. “You have to take it for yourselves.”

  The symphony of cheers and howls that resounded then was loud enough to scatter the clouds in the new morning sky.

  “Something’s wrong,” I said, stepping into the Demon’s path and forcing her to look at me. I folded my arms over my chest. “Asha, tell me, damn it.”

  Asha sighed and met my gaze. “Why are you always asking questions you don’t want the answers to, Rukiya dearest?”

  The term of endearment Adriel used for me made something in my gut twist, some instinct that I could only pray was mistaken.

  “Is he okay?” I asked, the words coming out in a near whisper.

  Asha placed her hands on my shoulders, as if to physically brace me. Now my stomach didn’t twist, but dropped.

  “He’s alive,” she said.

  “What the fuck?” I exclaimed.

  Asha blew out a heavy breath, strong hands still containing me. “That arrow that nicked him in the Fae Forest,” she said, “apparently there was poison on it.”

  “Oh my Gods!”

  “Chill out,” the Demon said, squeezing my shoulders to the point of pain. “He’s alive, and Aysari and Eryx are going to get an anecdote as we speak.”

  I scoffed, getting angry with Asha though some part of me knew it was misplaced. “I have to go to him,” I said, moving toward the door.

  We were gathered in a small smoke shop in Dogshead square. Outside, people had begun to take the bodies of the slain Wolves to the pits, where the gravediggers tossed the losing Dogs after fights.

  Asha blocked my path the same as I’d done to her a moment ago. “The fuck you are, my friend,” she said.

  It took effort to keep my eyes from lighting up Wolf-gold and my voice from lowering to a growl. I could feel in my gut that Adriel was not well. I needed to be with him.

  “Asha,” I said slowly, “Move. Now.”

  The Demon only quirked a dark brow, clearly unintimidated.

  I was just considering shoving her aside when Goldie slid between us and gently prodded me back. In all the realms, there was not another soul living or dead who could handle me like that. Only Goldie. Always Goldie.

  “She’s right,” my oldest friend said.

  My eyes snapped to her. “He could be dying,” I pleaded, not caring about the desperation in my tone. “You guys can handle this until I return. I don’t have any brilliant battle strategy insight.” I waved a hand at Akila, the Harpy warrior, who sat silently watching the exchange. “You’re the one with the general’s mind.”

  Akila’s head tilted in a way that was undeniably birdlike. “That is true,” she said, “but your face is the one the Wolves need to see. Your story is the one they have followed. Whether you like it or not, Rukiya Moonborn, you are the figurehead of a revolution, and you must be present for the bloodshed.”

  Anger welled up in me, but I bit down on it, knowing fear was the real culprit. Fear of losing Adriel, of something happening to him and me not being there…

  I looked around the room, seeing that all of my friends were in agreement, knowing that I did not have to verbalize my true feelings for them to be heard.

  “Adriel is strong,” Asha assured me, her voice uncharacteristically gentle, unintentionally revealing her own concern. “And Aysari and Eryx are smart and capable. They’ll get what they need to heal him, and by the time we return from battle, our boy will be all healed up, and you can have your way with him.”

  I knew she was trying to lighten the mood, and some reluctant part of me even knew that they were right; whether I liked it or not, I was needed here in Dogshead. There was so much to be done. The Pack Masters would come and defend their way of life. They would come in droves to squash out the rebellion.

  And we could not let that happen.

  “Adriel has given everything for this cause,” Goldie whispered into my mind. “We have to make sure it’s not all for nothing.”

  I swallowed, my eyes burning. I was grateful for the walls around me, so that my new Pack couldn’t see their beloved Alpha tearing up at the thought of losing her lover.

  But Adriel wasn’t just my lover; he was my protector, my friend, my family.

  He was everything that was good in this wretched old world. And I couldn’t lose him. I just couldn’t.

  But I also couldn’t abandon the responsibilities here. Too many people were counting on me. Too many lives depended on it. I was needed here to prepare to fight the other four Pack Masters, to ensure that all the lives lost already were not for naught.

  Asha pulled me into a hug, another rare gesture from her. “Have faith, Rukiya dearest,” the Demon whispered into my ear.

  I held her back because it seemed there was nothing else I could do.

  12

  Aysari & Eryx

  Time was short.

  Even someone as strong as Adriel could not withstand the Kalha poison for long, and the spell he insisted on performing would surely only weaken him further. They had hours, at best. And that was if it was not too late already.

  After all, the waters of the Silver River could heal most any wound, but even they could not bring someone back from the dead. Their magical properties needed a certain amount of life to cling to, an ember with which to kindle.

  Aysari and Eryx knew all of this, and yet, they paused for just a tiny moment outside of the entrance to the Fae Realm.

  “How long has it been?” Aysari asked her mate in Faevian, the tongue they always used when speaking to one another. They were the only full Fae in Mina, and so if they didn’t speak it with each other, they didn’t speak it at all.

  “Twenty sun cycles,” Eryx said. “Give or take.”

  Aysari knew he was being modest. Her mate knew exactly how long it had been. The day that one is forced to leave their home and never return tended to stick in the memory.

  “If we are caught, Tristell will not be gentle with us,” Aysari reminded.

  Eryx cocked his head at her, his black, webbed wings peeling free of his back. “Then let us not get caught, my heart.”

  Aysari nodded, steeling herself. Get in, get to the River, get out. It was simple. They could do it.

  She approached the knot in the old pine, a portal to the Fae Forest that would only open for one of Fae blood, and ran her long fingers over it.

  The tree groaned in recognition, the bark shifting and cracking to reveal blackness inside. Aysari’s sensitive nose picked up the faintest of scents drifting out. Scents she had not breathed in twenty long sun cycles.

  With her heart hammering in her chest, she let her wings free, the colorful feathers unfurling like long-c
ramped limbs.

  Then she stepped into the portal.

  In this realm one moment, and the other realm the next.

  Nostalgia swept over her in a wave, and she did not need to glance over at her mate to know that he was feeling it, too. So many memories in this land, so much history.

  The portal had let them out near a riverbank bordering the Fae Forest, the towering trees of which loomed overhead. From the outside, the place appeared silent and stoic, but Aysari and Eryx were once children of the Forest, and they knew well all the things dwelling within.

  The sun was sinking, creating pink and orange streaks across the sky. They did not want to be here when the sun disappeared entirely, as that was when the larger predators in the Forest tended to come out for the hunt.

  So the Fae couple slunk into the trees as quickly as possible, not pausing at the overwhelming bombardment of memories returning to them.

  The smell of Elderberry, the way the pink fog danced around their feet, the soft caress of the Bur-burra trees as one brushed against the fluffy branches. It was all so familiar, and yet so foreign, as if decades-old memories had skewed their perceptions.

  Aysari tipped her nose up, picking up the faint scent of sulfur beneath all the other smells of the Forest. Though the Fae Forest was a vast land, spanning thousands of acres and overlapping many realms, one of Fae blood could scent the River at almost any location within the Forest.

  The River seemed to tug at some internal string, to beckon.

  Moving as swiftly and as silently as one could manage, Aysari and Eryx let instinct guide them. Both of them had a couple of empty corked vials in their hands. All they needed was to fill one of them, and get back in time to pour the liquid magic down Adriel’s throat.

  They covered miles, the ever-present fuchsia fog floating along the Forest floor dancing and swirling as they passed through. From the edges of her vision, Aysari caught glimpses of Forest children playing in the canopies of the trees, Palapa monkeys perched on their shoulders.

  She tried to separate her mind from it, to focus on the task, but it was impossible to deny the emotions elicited by the place. How many nights had she cried herself to sleep knowing she could never return? How many times had she whispered the names of the loved ones she and Eryx would never see again?

  But there was a reason she’d stayed away, and if that reason caught up to them, they were as good as dead.

  So move!

  They were getting close, she could feel it in her bones. The Silver River was less than a mile away now, a distance she could easily cover in three minutes.

  Hope spiraled through her at the closeness of the goal. It was not a feat one of the others could likely have managed, as the Forest had a way of protecting its own. If someone without Fae blood were to try to steal from it, the Forest would have alerted Tristell, the Fae Queen, a female who delighted in the torturing and murdering of others.

  Just thinking the name of her old friend turned enemy made Aysari shiver. Unlike most of their kind, Tristell did not revere life. Tris was a tyrant, a troublemaker, a sadist.

  But she had not always been that way. For a long time now, yes, but not always.

  Jealousy and vengeance had soured her soul, and she blamed the world for it.

  Aysari pushed these thoughts away as she and Eryx reached the Silver River at last. She wasted no time in going to the bank and uncorking a vial, filling it with the magical water and slipping it into her pocket.

  “Aysari,” Eryx said. The stiffness in his tone made her gut twist and shoulders tighten.

  She sensed the Queen, then, felt her presence the same way one might the burning sun upon a ravaged back.

  Rising from her crouch by the riverbank, Aysari turned to face the female who had banished her from these lands twenty sun cycles ago, the monster who had slain her mother and father in front of her, leaving only Aysari’s little sister alive.

  Tristell, the Queen of the Fae, grinned to reveal two rows of razor sharp teeth, her hands folding delicately in front of her, as if the talons on the ends of her fingers had not torn open the throats of countless creatures.

  “Aysari,” Tristell purred. “As I live and breathe…”

  Ten Royal Fae Guardians stood at her back, because queen or no, Tristell knew better than to challenge Aysari alone.

  They both knew who would win that fight. They had sparred countless times as Faelings, had fought side-by-side for many years before things went bad between them.

  The male Guardians had bows and blades drawn, and they surrounded Aysari and Eryx in a semi-circle that backed into the glittering waters of the Silver River.

  Tristell did not look surprised to see them, as if she had been expecting their arrival.

  “How’s your friend?” the Queen asked, her head cocking like a bird’s, the enormous blue-green wings on her back ruffling with her glee over the situation.

  Of course she knew that Adriel had been poisoned, and that they would come in search of the River waters to cure him. It was her Guardian’s arrow that had struck him, that had been dipped in the poison.

  Some part of Aysari had known this coming in, but what choice was there? It was Adriel’s life on the line.

  “He’ll be fine,” Aysari replied, “once I get back to him and give him the waters.”

  Tristell snorted a laugh, her slanted eyes glittering. “Still so entitled, after all this time,” she chirped, shaking her head, where a crown of silver vines and flowers sat. Once upon a time, the ancient crown had belonged to Aysari’s mother, and her grandmother and great grandmother before that.

  “I told you what would happen if you ever returned,” Tristell said. “I told you to stay away, and for the second time, you chose loyalty to a dirty Mixbreed over your own well-being.”

  Beside her, Eryx shifted, a small growl rippling up his throat. The other male Fae, the ten Guardians at the Queen’s back, pulled their bows a bit tauter and adjusted the grips on their swords.

  Tristell only rolled her eyes at the show of masculine aggression. “Shut up, Eryx,” she said with a sneer. “You’re a weak minded follower with weak bloodlines. No one cares what you think.” She turned back to Aysari. “You, on the other hand, I’d like a few words with before I have my males slit your throats and leave your bodies to the Forest.”

  Aysari tried to reach into her pocket discretely, where the portal orb Griselle had made for them in Mina was waiting to be deployed. But before she could even get her fingers close, one of the Guardians fired an arrow that would have gone through her neck had she reacted any slower.

  Years of training kept Aysari from death. She caught the arrow and snapped it, dropping the pieces, where they disappeared into the fog floating along the ground.

  A moment later, two Guardians held their long silver blades to Aysari’s and Eryx’s throats. One of the guards ripped the portal orb from her pocket and handed it to Tristell.

  The Queen tucked it into the folds of her long gown, grin widening.

  “Let us go, Tris,” Aysari said. “We’ll leave and we won’t return.”

  At this address, the Guardians scowled, but Aysari had never called the other Fae female anything else, and she would not start now.

  “Where have I heard those words before?” the Queen said, cocking her head this way and that. “Oh, that’s right. From you. Twenty sun cycles ago. And yet here you are. I showed you mercy once, but unfortunately for you, it was the very last bit that existed within me.” She clicked her tongue at the Guardians. “Kill them,” she said, “and leave them for the raptors.”

  “I claim the Rite of Oleo,” Eryx said as a thin stream of blood dribbled down his throat. He’d gotten the request out just in time to stay the Guardian’s hand.

  “I claim the Rite as well,” Aysari echoed quickly.

  There was no time for that, her mind screamed. Adriel didn’t have time for that, but she didn’t see what choice they had.

  The Guardian holding her also pause
d. Their eyes went to their Queen.

  Tristell was a crazy bitch, but the Rite of Oleo was as old as the tallest Bur-Burra trees, and all Fae believed that to deny a captive the Rite was a bad omen that would follow one’s soul through the realms of space and time.

  Aysari watched as an array of emotions flickered across Tristell’s face. First, anger, of course. A default of hers that bordered on rage with its intensity. Then, slowly, a sharp smile tugged up her lips, her razor-like teeth glinting in the dying light of the day.

  “You invoke the Rite of Oleo,” the Queen said coolly, spreading her taloned hands, “and so you shall have it. Merka, bind them and toss them in the pits. We’ll need a little time to prepare.”

  Tristell the Fae Queen bent her knees and shot up into the Bur-burra trees, sending a cascade of fluffy leaves down in her wake. Before she even disappeared from sight, the Guardians had wrapped Aysari and Eryx in iron chains.

  Aysari had the sickening feeling that they had just signed their own death warrants.

  And Adriel’s right along with them.

  13

  Nahari

  Hounds were killing every escaped slave they could get their paws on.

  Patrols scoured the realm all the way from the bleached shores of the Eastern Sea to that of the Western cliffs. They showed no mercy, killing males, females, and children, leaving their remains scattered as a gruesome message to others.

  The bodies of the pups were the worst, and more than a few times already Nahari and Ozias had covered the eyes of Nahni and Norman, steering them away from one site of carnage only to come stumbling upon the next.

  It was a good thing Ozias was with them, otherwise she was sure they would not have made it this far. The Pack Masters had sent their Hounds out in droves, and there were whispers of armies building in the south, north, east, and west, preparing to move towards the Midlands—the same direction in which Nahari and her little band was traveling, along with thousands of other escaped Wolves.