The Wolf Prince

by Claire M Banschbach

  She smiled, and sunlight glinted in myriad colors off glistening wings. The men immediately lowered weapons and Einar struggled to overcome his shock enough to formulate an apology.

  But the faery continued as if humans meeting faeries by the river was a common occurrence.

  “They seemed eager for their family to know they were safe,” Kaja said.

  “And are they?” Jonas demanded.

  “You are?” A tiny smile teased the corner of her mouth.

  Einar shook his head, trying to warn Jonas not to say anything, but the boys came by their impetuous nature honestly.

  “Their father.” Jonas crossed his arms, straightening into a regal posture. Einar stifled a sigh.

  So much for inconspicuous.

  Kaja sank into a deeper curtsey with a slight bow. “They were when I took them downriver several days ago. They should be in Myrnius by now.”

  “I don’t know if I should be relieved or not.” Jonas glanced at Einar.

  “You should be. Our Myrnian kin are watching for their arrival.” Kaja stepped from the river, giving Jonas’s temperamental mare a pat on the nose with none of the usual consequences.

  “Is Killian truly a…” Jonas’s voice caught before he could say the cursed word. For a terrible moment, Einar didn’t know if he wanted the answer.

  Kaja’s features softened and she encompassed both of them with her look. “Would you like to see?”

  Einar nodded silently, Jonas still frozen. Kaja bent to the river, sliding her hand beneath the surface. Droplets rose in shining beads, twisting round each other in a quick spray until they merged into a sheet. The liquid shivered, and a brown wolf stood on the bank, ears pricked, amber eyes staring out. Two other figures emerged—one was Lars, looking slimmer, older, and dirtier than he’d ever been. The other was the red-haired girl the villagers described.

  Einar ignored her, focusing on the images of his nephews. Jonas stared with something like horror at the wolf. Einar rested a hand on Jonas’s shoulder, unwilling to fathom his thoughts. Bad enough it was his nephews, Einar couldn’t imagine having sons suffer that fate.

  And for Jonas to stare at the embodiment of the curse that had stolen his brother?

  Einar tightened his grip. He hadn’t known Prince Hugo well, but his death had been a blow.

  Jonas gathered a breath. “How is he?” His voice came out a gruff whisper.

  “You’ve raised a strong son.” Kaja withdrew her hand and the image wavered for a few more seconds before cascading back into the river. “Two strong sons.”

  Einar managed a tight smile, a poor excuse for thanks.

  “Where did they go from here?” Jonas said, his voice regaining strength.

  “I helped them as far as Halden.”

  “Moss isn’t that much further to the south,” Einar said. “We could make it there by tomorrow night.”

  “And then search the whole forest?” Despair crushed Jonas’s shoulders into a slump.

  “No,” Kaja broke in. “Our people will find them, but they won’t know you’re coming. I’ll help them find you.” She cast about the river bank, digging through the sand to unearth stones, finally coming across one that seemed to suit her fancy. She brushed it clean, cradling it in her palms and whispering.

  Einar caught only a few words that didn’t make much sense in isolation yet retained an air of hope and merriment. She handed the stone to Jonas.

  “Cast it into standing water and it will bring friends to you.”

  “Thank you.” Jonas graced her with a courtly bow.

  She fiddled with strands of her silver-blonde hair and smiled. “Good luck to you.” She glanced to Einar. “Creator bless and guide.”

  Einar inclined his head and the faery stepped into the river, a graceful heron taking her place and winging away. Einar stared after her in silence before Jonas spoke.

  “Never thought I’d live to see a faery.” He smoothed his thumb over the stone before tucking it away.

  Einar turned to check his stallion’s girth again before he mounted. “Aye, I just hope these friends she spoke of will know more than her.”

  “They will. I’m sure of it.”

  Einar allowed to himself to believe in Jonas’s newfound hope as the company spurred their horses across the river.

  Chapter 20

  Long shadows flitted among the trees, daring the lingering golden beams to withstand their advance when Felix stopped under the branches of a sprawling oak tree. The trio gratefully took seats among its roots to rest aching feet and paws.

  “The warding stretches as far as the roots,” Felix warned. Small leaves kicked up where he pointed.

  Killian noticed clusters of star-shaped flowers following the same outline, their purple petals taking on a faint glow in the fading light.

  “I wouldn’t leave unless one of us is with you,” Felix said.

  A small bunch of the flowers nestled in the crook of a root. Killian nosed at it, the bittersweet scent driving a sneeze from him. He pawed at his nose, disregarding the flora as a stray breeze betrayed a rabbit.

  A deer grazed several paw-lengths beyond it, and he ignored it with an effort. He couldn’t bring one down himself. Smaller prey would have to continue to satisfy him.

  He stood at the boundary line before he realized it, one forepaw hovering above the flowers.

  “Killian?” Rose’s voice held a note of cautious curiosity.

  He planted his paw inside the line, stomach rumbling in regret as the rabbit fled. He turned back to join them at the base of the tree.

  “You won’t go hungry.” Felix gave him an understanding smile.

  A new scent, more like a feeling of safety, rippled over them. Killian pricked his ears. Damian. And someone else came with him.

  The others seemed unaware, so he sat back on his haunches to wait. Felix didn’t react, so Rose and Lars sat in silence, exchanging an occasional puzzled glance.

  Killian’s ears picked up voices and finally the others heard them. Lars looked to Felix in brief alarm, but the stoic faery only shrugged.

  “It’s Damian.”

  Damian stepped into the oak’s protective boundary with a young woman. She pushed wavy brown tresses from her face and smiled at them. Felix stood and gave a nod, changing to a bulky lynx in the blink of an eye and bounding away.

  “This is Adela, my wife.” Damian motioned to the newcomer as Lars and Rose stood to greet her.

  “I’m so pleased to finally meet you.” Her voice had a soft music to it, as if she’d rather sing.

  Killian stepped closer as she knelt, the skirts of her blue dress settling around her.

  “Don’t worry about a thing.” Her warm gaze reassured him. “Damian will do everything he can for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Her smile brightened her face again as she stood to clasp the others’ hands.

  “Wait. You’re not—the Adela and Damian, are you?” Rose’s cheeks blushed a brighter pink.

  Damian and Adela exchanged a glance and a smile.

  “We are.” Adela tilted her head.

  Killian stared. That’s why the scars on Damian’s face had seemed familiar. He’d heard the story often enough of the two faeries who helped the then-Count Stefan defeat a witch and her brother who’d plotted against him.

  They’d both given Stefan a faery blessing and predicted his rise as Myrnius’s first king and long and prosperous reign.

  “But that was years ago!”

  King Stefan had passed his eightieth year, and the faeries before Killian didn’t look past their thirties.

  “Aye, nearly sixty by your reckoning.” Damian glanced down at Killian. “Time passes differently for us. We’re both young yet. I’m just barely over one-hundred and fifty.”

  Adela couldn’t hold back a giggle.

  “You really live for six hundred years?” Rose recovered herself enough to close her mouth.

  “More or less.”

  “You kille
d the witch?” Lars stared at Damian’s scars with renewed interest.

  The faeries’ expressions grew somber as Damian nodded. According to legend, Damian and the witch battled in both human and feline form. The scars came from her claws.

  “Aye, and almost lost my life,” he said. “I rushed to battle last time. This sorcerer might be more powerful than the witch. I won’t make the same mistake again. I trust you’ll respect my caution?”

  The iron in his voice left them little doubt that it wasn’t their choice.

  But Lars didn’t even seem to think about arguing. Killian flicked his tail in amusement at the surprising sign of maturity.

  “What’s King Stefan like?” Rose blurted out, turning to Lars and Killian. “Have you met him?”

  Killian shook himself. King Stefan might be in excellent health, but he didn’t travel much. Killian had met King Stefan’s son and grandson. Lars, on the other hand…

  “A few years ago.” Lars cleared his throat in sudden awkwardness, “I—um—didn’t stick around much, so I’m not the best person to ask.”

  “He’s a kind and generous man,” Adela said, relieving the tension. “As a count they used to say, ‘his hearth is always open.’ That hasn’t changed. Now, how about some supper?”

  Damian slid a satchel from his shoulder as Adela hung small rounded lanterns from the lowest limbs, setting them alight with a quick word. Rose and Adela took over laying out the meal, Rose’s movements shy and stilted next to the faery.

  None of the spread looked appetizing to Killian and he sighed.

  Lovely. I suppose I’m going hungry tonight.

  The scent of lynx grew stronger.

  Killian scanned the trees, stifling a growl when the lamplight reflected two bright orbs and the cat slunk from the darkness, morphing back into Felix holding the rabbit carcass. He winked at Killian, who took it with a grateful rumble.

  Killian retreated several paces away from the others, placing the tree between them as he tore into the carcass. They gave him the dignity of eating in peace as they turned to their own meal, Adela and Damian asking after their journey.

  Killian finished with rabbit and licked the remnants away, then edged closer to his companions as they lingered over the meal. Damian looked at him, then at Lars, asking further questions about the spell.

  Lars recounted the story of the family curse, any old scorn he might have borne the tale long gone, but the bitterness still evident. Then Killian gave his account of the sorcerer’s spell, Damian repeating some of it for the benefit of the others.

  Killian nipped at Lars’s arm as guilt flickered across his brother’s features.

  “There was nothing you could have done.”

  I’m actually grateful you weren’t there. Noak and his men would have just killed you.

  “You keep saying that. It isn’t going to make me feel better.” Lars scowled at his brother when Damian passed on Killian’s comment.

  “Fine, idiot.”

  Damian didn’t bother to translate. “Glad I’m not the only one who has a brother who won’t listen.”

  “You’re one to talk.” Felix snorted as he pulled out parchment and charcoal, ignoring them as he began to sketch.

  “May I take some of your blood?” Damian turned to Killian, who blinked at the odd request.

  Damian smiled. “The magic is in your blood.”

  Killian mustered the effort to stand still as Damian pricked his shoulder with a dagger, allowing blood to run into the blade’s channel. Damian held the blade steady and pressed his hand over the stinging wound. Warmth blossomed under his touch and the pain faded to nothing.

  Killian twisted to nose at the area and found it completely healed.

  “Magic must be useful.”

  “Aye, but my healing magic is still limited. I only trained long enough to be of use in emergencies.” Damian didn’t look up from the blood he had drawn.

  Rose leaned closer. “Train your magic?”

  “Yes, we all have something our magic gravitates to.” Adela glanced at her. “Damian is strongest in communicating with animals. He helps care for the forest. Plants and growing things respond best to my magic. The warding is mine.”

  “How did you make it? It’s the flowers, isn’t it?” Killian tilted his head up towards her.

  “Well spotted.” Adela smiled. “It is the flowers. And, I don’t know, I’ve never tried to explain magic before.”

  She plucked several blades of grass from the ground, holding them in the palm of her hand. Words Killian couldn’t understand danced from her tongue and the grass darted up from her hand, weaving around each other, then swirling away to form shapes of trees, wolves, and leopards.

  A shiver tickled the fur between his shoulders. Magic. It felt nothing like Noak’s. The sorcerer’s magic terrified him. It flared wild and angry. The same wildness was present in Adela’s, but her words gave it a sense of calm.

  Killian laid down and rested his nose on his paws.

  All the same, I think I’ll be happy if I never see magic again.

  He looked at Felix who still hadn’t joined their conversation, still absorbed in his drawing.

  “What about you, Felix?”

  “Metal.” Felix didn’t look up. “I’m a blacksmith.”

  “He’s actually the reason we discovered what the sorcerer was up to,” Adela said.

  “How?” Lars glanced at Felix, who reluctantly looked up.

  “Some little idiot faery bothered me until I took him on as apprentice. One day I sent him off into the forest to collect wood for arrow shafts, and the little idiot faery got himself in trouble and was hurt by the sorcerer.”

  “So, you’re along for revenge?” Lars raised his eyebrows.

  “Course not. Revenge isn’t the faery way.” Felix gave a snort of derision, rolling his eyes, and completely negated his statement.

  “Is he all right? Your apprentice?” Rose shivered a little.

  Felix’s granite expression softened a fraction. “Didn’t think he would be for a while, but he’ll be fine. Unlike that sorcerer when I find him.”

  A growl ripped from Killian. The sorcerer had hurt someone else. Badly too, it sounded like. Just one more reason to stop him.

  But he’d seen Noak’s power.

  “I don’t mean to be rude, but are the three of you going to be enough to stop him?”

  “That’s what Borys and his council are hoping,” Felix said.

  “Felix!” Damian rebuked the note of sarcasm in Felix’s voice.

  “Fine, yes, three faeries should be enough to take care of the sorcerer.” Felix shifted his attention back to his sketch. “If not, we send a message back home and get an army.”

  “Army?” Lars crossed his arms. “I thought you were supposed to be peaceful.”

  “We are. Except for Felix.” Adela stifled a grin and the other faery smirked. “There are still warriors trained in our halls. As long as magic is in the world we are here to defend against those who use it for evil. As Damian said, this is not our first time to confront the misuse of this power.”

  She sent a soft glance to Damian, but her expression changed to concern. “What’s wrong?”

  Damian’s brow creased down into a frown. The old injury to his face twisted his mouth further. It took him longer than Killian wanted to bring his gaze back up. Killian’s inquisitive growl brought the others’ attention to Damian.

  “I’m not going to pretend this is simple. I need to talk to someone before I do anything.” Damian took a napkin and placed it over the knife, the blood soaking through its clean surface.

  Adela moved to stand by him, worry creasing faint lines around her eyes. Killian fought panic at the sight. What if he can’t help? What am I going to do?

  Damian’s touched Killian’s shoulder, soothing his anxiety.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  Killian turned his face up to him and whined.

  “I’ll do everything I can.” Da
mian’s whispered promise would have to be enough. “Felix will stay with you tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll set the plan to catch the sorcerer.”

  Felix looked up from his work long enough to bid Damian and Adela goodnight, rising to his feet as they disappeared among the trees.

  “I’ll watch tonight. Get some rest.” He stepped out of the oak’s circle, leaving them in silence.

  “Well?” Lars rubbed a hand across his eyes.

  “Well.” Rose sighed and grabbed her bed roll. “Sounds like we have a full day of playing bait tomorrow.”

  Don’t remind me.

  Killian found a spot among the roots smooth enough to almost be comfortable.

  Lars and Rose settled down, the lanterns dimming and winking out. Killian blinked in the sudden darkness, his eyes adjusting as the moon sent beams to play among the branches. He wriggled forward until he could see the bulk of the waning moon.

  Killian raised his head a wolf howled, joined one by one by the voices of the pack. He wanted to call out, to tell them another brother was nearby. He buried his muzzle between his paws, bottling up his howl until the pack moved on.

  He growled and smacked a paw against the ground. He thought he knew what he wanted—thought he wanted to be human again—only to be reminded how effortless it felt to be a wolf.

  He’d never prayed very much, but Uncle Einar was devout so perhaps that counted for something.

  Please help us through this. Uncle Einar says there’s a grand purpose to our lives we can’t always see. I hope he’s right and You have this planned because I’m terrified.

  Killian resettled himself against the soft grass. Whether because he’d finally admitted to his fear, or because Someone was listening, the anxiety that had lurked since crossing the border faded for the moment.

  A movement tickled his subconscious and Killain jerked his head up as Lars settled beside him.

  “I heard the wolves. You all right?”

  Killian rested his nose on his paws. Lars ruffled the thick fur between his shoulders.

  “You know, that’s the first time I’ve actually listened to a wolf howl. It’s almost beautiful. Father said once that Uncle Hugo could understand them. You could too?”

  Killian looked up at his brother, blinking.