by Eric Vall
My anger flared at his words, and his own temper seemed to surge as well. Dragir stopped talking while the muscles in his jaw twitched, and he glared at the map as though he’d like to burn every House on it to the ground.
“One last thing,” he finally muttered. Then Dragir stooped to take out his anger on the contents in the bottom drawer of the desk. He rifled violently through all manner of papers, quills, unused scraps of metal, and even bits of leather. The longer he dug through the mess, the more irritated he got, and he cursed in a steady stream of Elvish under his breath.
“Hey,” I tried, and the elf abruptly looked up.
He had a fresh sheen of sweat on his brow again and was so pale he was almost green at this point. “What?”
I could tell he was eaten up with worry for his sister, and I cleared my throat. “I’ll bring her back. I promise.”
The elf looked at me for a moment, and his eyes eventually fell to the revolver on my hip. Then he nodded and ripped the drawer straight out of the desk to dump the full contents out.
I raised my brows. He did seem a little less tense at least, and when he found what he was looking for, he let out a shaky sigh of relief. I couldn’t quite see what he had in his hand, but he locked the object in his fist and snatched the map from the desk.
“This way,” he ordered, and he shoved the map into my hand before he left the house.
I took one last look at the impressive armory on the walls before I jogged to catch up to Dragir. He took a shortcut between the houses to the next small road, and then he ducked into a low-ceilinged hut.
The smell of dogs overwhelmed me when we entered, and the sleek and silver dogs who had hunted with us roamed around the building like they owned it. Except there were three times more dogs in here than they’d brought out earlier.
Straw was piled in different places with troughs of water against the walls, and two elves sat with the pack. They cut up chunks of raw meat on a crude table in the corner and looked up when we entered.
Dragir quickly scanned the pack of dogs around us before he spoke to the two elves in their native tongue, and they exchanged nervous glances when they responded.
Dragir’s pale pink eyes flashed immediately, and he stormed back through the door.
He picked up the pace and brought us to a rickety wooden shack near the line of trees, and I slowed my pace as we approached. I recognized the throaty snarl of the beast inside, and the unnerving sound was only slightly louder than the rattling of wooden planks.
Not one part of me wanted to follow the elf into the shack, because I had a bad feeling I knew what was about to happen. Still, the thought of beautiful Deya locked behind a barred door sent fresh waves of anger through me every few seconds, so I took a deep breath and ducked into the rickety shack.
Inside, the shack wasn’t any bigger than the public restrooms back on Earth, and it smelled about as questionable. The dim room was split down the center with a wooden wall, and the planks shook violently as if they were about to give out any minute.
One elf sat beside the wall with a serrated blade in his grip, and he scowled over at us as we entered.
Dragir spoke in Elvish, and I could hear the menace in his tone. The guard countered arrogantly, and I noticed he said Deya’s name more than once. Shortly after, Dragir unsheathed his own blade.
He directed it toward the elf’s neck, and whatever he said caused the elf to lurch backward with wide eyes. The elf slipped and fell on his ass as his blade skittered across the floor. Then he scrambled to his feet and bolted past me and out into the night.
Dragir swiftly caught up the serrated blade from where it had landed, and he tied it to his belt. I began to wonder if it would be added to his collection, but then he turned toward the door of the rattling wall, and my heart seized in my chest.
The dog snapped viciously at the bottom of the planks of wood, and I could see its massive claws tearing splinters up from the floorboards. Its drool slicked the floor where a few chunks of wood had been ripped off, and there were teeth marks along the edges that suggested he’d taken to chewing his way out and was actually succeeding.
I backed myself into the corner.
“You know, ” I said uneasily, “I don’t need the dog, really. I’ve got the map and--”
Dragir ignored me and rammed the butt of his hilt against the lock. The bolt dropped to the floor with a heavy thunk, and the door slammed open not a second after.
The wolfish dog’s green eyes were bloodshot around the edges, and he barreled out of his confinement like a crazed lunatic. He flipped around in agitated circles, and as he knocked the chair across the room, the force of his strength broke it in half. The beast’s snarls echoed ominously around the shack, and he began to ram his massive head against the walls when he couldn’t find another exit.
Somehow, Dragir looked relatively unphased. He took out whatever he’d held in his fist and carefully secured it between the folds of a hefty rope. I could only make out a silver glint before it was fully concealed.
Then the elf turned to the wildish beast and maneuvered carefully to avoid being stepped on or bit. Eventually, he managed to rope him, and he turned to hold the other end of the tethering out to me.
“No,” I said flatly.
“Take it,” he growled.
“That things going to fucking eat me.”
Dragir sighed with irritation. “It will be quicker if you follow Deya’s scent directly and--”
“It’ll be quicker if I take my own transportation,” I interrupted. “I can be there in ten minutes with my bike, and there’s no room for a dog so … ”
“You cannot take that infernal contraption,” Dragir snapped. “Every elf within twenty miles can hear you coming. You must go on foot. Take the dog.”
I furrowed my brow as the beast slammed once more against the wall, and the shack shuddered around us. “Fucking hell,” I groaned. “Can I at least have one that’s not crazy? There were plenty of dogs in the last place. I want one of the normal ones.”
“No,” Dragir growled. “They will kill it if this keeps up much longer. Take this one.”
I considered this as I eyed the wolfish dog. I really couldn’t argue with the idea of killing it at the moment. He may have been the more determined tracker in the pack, but he easily had about a hundred pounds on either of us and was as wild as a banshee.
I weighed his stellar tracking abilities against my will to live, but Dragir just continued to shove the rope toward me, and I finally took a steadying breath.
“Fine,” I muttered as I caught up the rope and secured it around my forearm, “but if it eats me, then nothing gets accomplished, I just hope you understand that.”
Dragir rolled his eyes. “Don’t give the dog a reason to eat you then,” he said with a pointed look.
With that, he brushed past me, and I braced myself as the beast’s keen eyes caught the opening of the door.
“Fuuuck this,” I mumbled.
Then my neck snapped back as I was yanked through the small exit and out into the night. The muscles in my shoulders and thighs burned with the effort of restraining the beast while it wove around wildly. Its mouth gaped with giant fangs, and its ears were flattened against its wolfish head. The green eyes flashed everywhere at once, and I got the impression it was ready to kill the first thing it came across.
Dragir ignored the wolfish dog as it occasionally knocked his leg out from under him. He just stumbled, moved aside, and stayed his course as he led us into the dense forest rather than the central road.
I could see the torchlight of the homes not far from us, and a few elves looked toward the blackened trees as the beast snarled and tore through the underbrush. We took this shortcut to the winding path that led to House Quyn, and my arm had gone completely numb by the time we parted the blue leaves and came out into the fog.
Dragir moved carefully and spoke in a low voice as he scanned the windows of the House. “Where are your women?”
“They’re with Bobbie,” I grunted as I crouched and attempted to use my weight to keep the wildish dog in place.
Dragir cocked a brow. “How many women do you travel with?” he asked curtly, and I realized my motorcycle’s name had confused him.
“Don’t worry about it,” I shot back. Then I raised my voice only slightly and said Aurora’s name.
The half-elf’s keen ears heard me, and within a minute the three women emerged from the fog with their bows strapped to their backs. Shoshanne had her shuriken secured around her thigh, and I noticed the glint of Aurora’s translucent dagger in her own thigh strap, as well as the sword at her waist. Cayla had her rifle slung over her shoulder, and although the three beauties looked dangerously sexy as they came through the fog, they halted and went pale the moment they saw the wolf trying to rip my arm from its socket.
“No,” Aurora said flatly.
I smirked and fought to keep my hold on the rope. “That’s what I fucking said.”
“No,” she repeated.
Dragir sighed. “You are wasting time,” he hissed. “The dog is necessary.”
To his credit, it did sound like he tried for a less prickish tone that time.
Aurora looked uneasily from the dog to me, and I tried to shrug against the pull of the rope.
The dim light of the moon through the trees overhead was already shifting from gold to snowy white. It must have been almost an hour since we’d returned to House Quyn, and without knowing when Deya went missing, I didn’t want to waste another second.
“Let’s go,” I grunted to the women, and Dragir swiftly led us across the clearing into the trees. Then he reached over and unwound the rope on my arm with a flick of his wrist.
The wolfish beast took off like a shot and uprooted two large ferns as it barreled into the fog.
“Holy shit,” I muttered.
“Yes, and if you lose the dog, this is all quite useless,” Dragir snapped.
“Right,” I said, “we’ll be right back.”
I ran forward into the trees with the three women close behind, but I glanced over my shoulder as we were submerged in the fog. I could make out Dragir’s outline where we’d left him, but then the fog and ferns enveloped us on all sides, and we were on our own.
I took a deep breath and buckled down on my speed, and as I scaled a log, I finally caught sight of a sable tail ahead.
“He’s right there,” I called to the women, and we turned to follow the wolf through the ferns. I could feel the pounding of its feet in the ground beneath me, and the sound of its heavy breaths mingled with low snarls. Without the elves shouting and the sleek dogs running all over the place, the dim jungle was much less chaotic, and we fell in behind the beast without stopping for several minutes. It took us directly to the spot where the elves used a dart to tranquilize the wildish dog, and he let out an angry snarl before he veered east.
The fronds whipped across my arms and legs while the damp fog clung to my hair. I could hear the women keeping pace at my back, and with darkness all around us and the wolfish beast leading the way, my skin began to tingle with anticipation. I’d been overwhelmed and furious when Qiran had barred me or anyone from saving Deya, but now that we were finally on course to do just that, my nerves began to settle again.
I channeled my anger into my legs and found I was able to run at full speed for well over three miles without cramping like I had earlier. With my tension finally shifting, I could focus on what needed to be done and let my boots pound across the jungle floor behind the wildish beast.
We would have to infiltrate the fortress of House Kylen without being seen and make our way to the top of the house while we searched for signs of the elven beauty. I knew I could count on the women to help me kill off anyone who might cause trouble, but as I watched for the flick of a sable tail ahead of me, I realized the unruly dog would give us away within two seconds.
“Shit,” I muttered.
Aurora must have heard me, because she sped up to come to my side. “What’s wrong?” she panted.
“We need to sneak in to find Deya,” I told her between breaths, “but this fucking wolf is not stealthy.”
“Why the hell did you bring it?” Aurora asked.
“Dragir made me,” I shot back. “I didn’t want it. The fucking thing will probably kill us before we get there.”
We ran on in silence for a moment before one of the other women spoke up behind me.
“What was that?” I panted.
“What?” Cayla asked back.
I glanced over my shoulder, but the two women only looked at me in confusion.
“Didn’t you say something?” I asked.
Both Cayla and Shoshanne shook their heads, and as the soft voice spoke once more, I flipped around to look at Aurora.
I could tell by her expression she’d heard it as well this time, and the half-elf slowed her pace while she trained her ears toward the jungle.
Finally, it came again, and I was sure I’d heard the distinct voice of a woman through the trees.
The four of us came to an abrupt stop.
“Was that … Deya?” Aurora whispered.
My heart pounded loudly in my chest while I fought to catch my breath, and we all panted there in the silent jungle for a long moment. Nothing but thick ferns and blackness surrounded us, and I realized I couldn’t hear the wolfish dog anymore.
Then a soft voice came through the darkness, and it sounded like the silvery tone of Deya.
Sort of. It wavered oddly, and the words she spoke came to me like indistinct muttering. Her voice seemed ghostly and was barely louder than a whisper, and the three women turned in circles as they scanned the trees for a sign of the elven beauty.
“Deya?” I finally called out.
The voice answered from somewhere close by, but it wavered unintelligibly once more, and I furrowed my brow at Cayla beside me.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” the princess muttered. “Those weren’t words.”
I was about to call out again, but before I could speak, a deep and throaty growl cut through the silence.
We whipped around, and the sable beast prowled from the ferns with its hackles stock straight and its green eyes flashing hungrily. I hadn’t even heard it approaching, and my gut dropped as I eyed the fangs that flashed in the dappled moonlight.
I instinctively reached for my revolver as I moved to put myself between the crazed dog and my women.
But as the wolfish beast prowled closer, I realized it wasn’t looking at me.
It stalked low to the ground and growled threateningly as it brushed by within a foot of us, and when I turned to look toward the ferns at our backs, I saw a shadowy form looming between the fronds.
Chapter 5
Cayla flipped the bow around her back and loosed an arrow within two seconds, and the moment the thing in the shadows let out a hideous screech, the wolf lunged.
The ferns shook violently as the sound of snarls and a high-pitched demented shriek echoed through the jungle. The four of us sprang back, but before we could flee, the massive dog was suddenly thrown from the ferns and landed near our feet with a pained yelp. It let out a deep growl and rose to its paws, and I cocked the hammer of my revolver as I took my aim into the ferns.
Nothing moved for a moment, and then the creature pounced from the shadows.
The moonlight shone on every sinewy and deformed limb, and the pale light illuminated the gawking set of the creature’s eyes. They were hollow in the half-eaten face, and I could see where the wolfish dog had managed to tear the flesh from its sunken cheek, so its teeth were exposed along the jaw. They were chiseled into points, and as the creature suddenly gaped to take a bite at me, the twisted features tightened painfully over the sharp bones of its face.
“Fucking hell … ” I breathed as I fired the revolver into the creature’s chest. It only staggered and shrieked before it clawed out at us with long, twisted fingers. Then I fired once mo
re, but the creature still managed to hook the hem of Shoshanne’s robe in its grip.
The healer screamed, and I grabbed her to me as I tried to pull her from it. She kicked hard and fought to free herself while she dug a handful of shuriken from the case on her thigh and sent them into the creature’s arms. The five hooked blades didn’t even phase it, and Cayla hollered for us to duck as I heard her cock the rifle at our backs.
The gun didn’t go off though before we were suddenly released and tumbled into the shadows of a fern.
The wolfish dog had lunged and buried his teeth into the meat of the creature’s hip, and with a violent wrenching of its neck, the sable dog brought the emaciated thing to the ground. Then we all watched in horror as it savagely peeled the mottled flesh from its body with unbridled force.
A disgusted shiver shook my spine, and I gagged as I realized how nasty that thing must have tasted. It smelled nearly as foul as the Putre grove, and as I considered the mangled limbs and gawking face, I realized it looked a lot like a rotted corpse.
Whose corpse, I had no fucking idea.
Its arms were too long to be human, and its bones were bulbous and jutted out from the mottled flesh all over the place. At least, where the flesh was still attached. The dog ripped the organs from its gut next, and the creature shrieked frantically and dug its own claws into the thick fur on the neck of the wolf.
This only made the dog’s appetite intensify. It snarled viciously as it tore through the chest cavity in a single bite before it ripped at the sinewy neck. The blood curdling shrieks turned into squeals, and the creature desperately gave a sturdy kick to the dog’s gut. As the sable beast yelped and fell back, the mutilated thing struggled to drag itself back into the cover of the ferns.
I cocked the revolver once more, but the wolf was faster than me. He lunged into the ferns and landed hard on the creature’s back, and there was a hideous crunch of bones and a ripping sound I’d never quite experienced before.
