12. Homeward Bound
CHAPTER 12
Homeward Bound
ALIA
I t took over three hours to get back to my tribe on Ran. Mostly because of the roundabout way I took to hold off any stragglers. Namely, an Alpha prince and a little pup. I was surprised Hood didn’t come for him. Maybe Hood knew what capabilities Shen had and so decided to hold off on the rescue in hopes he’d kill his kidnapper.
And it was a near thing. Even now I could feel the way his hand wrapped around my neck; the ease with which he could snap my spine with a simple twist of his wrist.
Shen was my enemy, and I’d do well to remember it.
When did it go from Wolfie or It to Shen? Ran commented, side-eyeing me.
I groaned and rubbed my palms into my eye sockets, trying to relieve some of the pressure building there. I didn’t have an answer for that. And now I needed new plans to draw Hood out, and the last one took months and quite a few bribes to cook up.
A howl echoed at my back. I turned, but it was only a regular brown wolf calling for its pack. You could tell because the call wasn’t one of longing or hope. Wolves took life and didn’t look back or forward, they lived for the present. Shifters were sometimes like that if they were more attuned to their wild side, but many times their voices were tinged with something only a human mind could imagine—hope or despair.
Wolves felt. Don’t get me wrong. All animals have needs and feelings, but they lived in the moment. They held joy, satisfaction in a good hunt, and grief very close. As wolves were close relatives to werewolves, we Reds often studied them in the wild. Once, I saw a wolf lose his mate. He followed her into death shortly after. I always say he died of a broken heart. And his need was for his mate. I pray they’re reunited, running free without pain or fear.
I shook off the feeling of eyes following me and dismounted Ran. Only my family knew of the bond I had with a unicorn. My tribe would bury me under lava if they knew I not only let a magical creature live, but bonded the dratted thing.
As if you had a choice, Ran said, snorting into my ear.
I grunted and batted her off, digging gooey slime out of my ear. “Shut up. I should’ve left you to die.”
You are many things, Two-Legs. A cold-blooded killer is not one of them.
I took off the halter I used as a bridle—Ran would not wear a bit—along with the saddle and rigging, sticking it in a buried hut about a mile out from the village. For emergencies, I’d ride her bareback, but then my butt would be sore from her bony back for a week. I much preferred the comfort of my padded saddle, thanks.
She shook her entire body, her hair puffing and dirt flying off. She nuzzled me. I kissed her velveteen nose before she snorted and dove off into the underbrush.
I smiled at her retreating form and finished locking the shack, hid it from view with a carefully constructed board of cultivated moss, and used a tool that was partway between a broom and branch to hide our footsteps. I checked it over with a critical eye and nodded. Should be good.
My sleep-deprived body carried me back to my hut on the edge of tribe territory and very near the Red Pit, which was a large sand pit for training. Shouts and metal clashing were heard in the distance from the Red School of Arts—don’t let the name fool you, it’s not the fancy type of art taught in guilds in the city—and the braying of donkeys mixed with the almost serene ring of chimes meant to ward off evil creatures. One such chime hung on our porch, the sweet melody both haunting and gentle at once.
Then the needs hit me.
My shoulders slumped, and for a moment, I leaned against the round, rough-hewn railing on our tiny porch. I was about to enter a different sort of battle, and I just didn’t feel like it. My head hurt, my bones ached, and I felt like I needed to sleep for a week to stop my arms and legs from shaking with fatigue.
But I had to face this. My family needed me.
So I shoved my shoulders back and knocked. The house was eerily quiet, with the cackle of hens and the occasional call of the rooster coming from around back. We lived in a quaint little cabin with rust and milk paint that made the rough-hewn boards and planks of the house a slightly reddish hue. There were three sleeping areas, a kitchen, and a small area with a fireplace. The A-frame roof needed a patch soon and there was a rail nearly ate through by ratfink wood eaters… My thoughts fled when Mom opened the door. The needs hit me full force.
Mom gathered me into a hug. Her warm aura enfolded me, made me feel all melty inside. But that couldn’t last long, as the beating of her need crashed against me as if it were a hammer beating against the inner walls of my Gift or Curse or whatever it was.
Mom pulled back, scouring me from head to toe, searching for injury.
I stuffed down my exhaustion, giving her a bright smile. “You guys wouldn’t believe what happened to me!” I said, giving her a peck on the cheek and dancing through the door. Her eyes lit, a tiny smile melting away most of the worry. “I rescued a wolf pup?—”
“You did what?” Dad said, wiping mud off his hands and catching Fina before she toppled from the chair she was playing in, holding her upside down as he stared at her. “What in the King’s good name do you think you’re doing, little one?” he asked, tickling her sides with his muddy fingers. Her giggles rose, making a genuine smile cross my lips.
“Leelee!” Fina cried, lifting her pudgy fingers and reaching for me.
“How’s my favorite littlest niece, eh, Feefee?” I asking, lifting her upright and kissing her plump cheek.
“Puppup?” she asked, pointing out the door.
I chuckled. “Later, we’ll go see Puppup, alright?” Puppup was Princess, our milk goat Fina had a fascination with.
She pouted, but then she saw Jacob rushing around and watched him and his spindly arms and legs in awe. He tripped over a chair, barely missed impaling himself on a blade, and landed on the rug.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the academy, young man?” Mom asked, crossing her arms. I could feel her need pounding against my insides like a knife against glass.
“Sorry, Mom—there!” He pulled out his bow from behind the couch, where one of the other kids—namely Jess—had likely hid it.
“Jacob, why can’t you be more like your sister?” Mom asked, her voice oozing disappointment.
Jacob’s entire being collapsed. His grin faded, his eyes lost their sparkle, and his shoulders curved in as if to hide from her disapproving glare.
I forced a snort-laugh. “Mom, don’t you remember? I nearly died because I forgot to bring charcoal when we were practicing poisons.”
Mom’s disapproving stare left Jacob, who glanced at me with gratitude in his eyes before scurrying out the door.
I gave Mom a pointed glance. She winced, rubbing her forehead. “I did it again, didn’t I?” she whispered.
I nodded. “Understanding, love, and support,” I whispered.
“Jacob!” Mom yelled.
Jacob froze. I felt his need to know he was good enough and that his differences didn’t make him unlovable.
Mom scurried over to him, wrapping him in one of her rib-crushing, heart-warming hugs. “I’m so sorry, hon. I spoke out of frustration and exhaustion and took it out on you. None of this was your fault. Jess had attempted to play with it earlier. I bet it was her who stuck your bow there. You are enough. You are loved. You work so hard, and I am so freakin’ proud of ya,” she said, kissing his hair.
His smile lit up the room. His eyes shone with his childlike joy and his entire being nearly vibrated with happiness as his need was being met.
While Mom sent off Jacob—who was rambling about some old, crusty library book that he’d found in a locked box—I scurried over to my silent sister in the corner. Jacob picking locks wasn’t unlike him, the kid was a curious creature who saw rules as something to overcome; Jess having nothing to say, on the other hand, was uncharacteristic.
“Hey, kiddo. What’s up?” I asked, sitting beside her.
She turned her back to me, sniffling.
“That’s ok. I’m just gonna sit here, is that ok?” She sniffled again, but didn’t say anything. Then she gave a tiny nod, and I relaxed back into the rough wooden wall. She needed someone to be there. She wasn’t quite ready to talk, but sometimes taking up space and sitting with someone in their pain was enough.
“Dad said our family is cursed cause Great-Grandpa died by a werewolf,” she whispered at last.
Despite him being my elder sister’s husband, Rey could rot in a latrine pit by the tanners. What was he doing, telling such things to an impressionable child?
My fingers clenched into fists. An image crossed my mind. I heard the screaming, saw the black werewolf with red eyes and fangs as long as my fourteen-year-old fingers, and watched again as the werewolf tore through my grandpa’s throat. I shook off the memory, swallowing back bile. “Can I give you a hug?” I asked, coming back to the present and feeling her need .
She nodded, rammed into my chest and wrapped her shaking arms around my neck. I clutched her to me.
“Is it true?” she whispered.
I shook my head, but stopped. She didn’t need me to answer that question. She needed to think it through for herself. “What do you think?” I asked.
She relaxed against me, sucking her thumb. Yes, she was a bit old for that, but it was something that gave her comfort when she needed it, so I never scolded her. She pulled her thumb from her lips and sighed. “No,” she whispered. “Just because bad things happen doesn’t make us responsible for them.”
I blinked back tears, hugging her tighter before she pulled back. I kissed her forehead, looking into her eyes. “I’m so proud of you, ya know that?”
She gave me a tiny smile, one that made her brown eyes crinkle. She’d gotten Mom’s blonde hair and Dad’s brown eyes. A perfect little mix of them both, even if sometimes there was a hint of Rey in the tilt of her chin.
“Can I do anything else for ya?” I asked, pushing some hair from her eyes.
She shook her head, getting off my lap and dancing off to get into some sort of trouble.
I leaned my head against the wall, trying to rein in the emotions beading on my soul. If I let them free now, I wouldn’t be able to reel them back.
Hold it in. Not too much longer now.
“Alia, have seen my—my, umm?—”
“Your satchel is on the table beside the back door, Dad,” I said.
I heard his steps and then his “Oh!” I let my lips lift in a sad smile.
“You’re our own little angel, you know that, Little Curo?” Dad said, coming around behind the couch to kiss my forehead. “Get you some rest, and we’ll talk about you saving little wolf pups later, alright?” His dark eyes were alight with mirth even as he faux-scowled down at me.
I grinned up at him and his teasing.
He paused before going out the door. “Are you alright, dear?” he asked, turning back around.
I blinked, then blinked again. I got up, pasting a smile on my face. “Dad, I’m fine,” I said, shaking my head.
“You just seem tired, is all. Anything I can help with?”
I clenched my hand around my opposite forearm, digging my nails in to keep from allowing the tears building in my chest to make their way to my eyes. Dad was so sweet, but he couldn’t know. He had too much on his shoulders as it was.
He and Mom took care of Anna’s little ones, Jess and Fina, as if they were their own and attempted to keep their heads above water helping to pay for Anna’s treatments. I brought back what I could to help financially, and I tried to only go on missions when I could get back before the first day of the week when my parents went to work so I could help babysit. Even though pitching in put me behind, I was still at the top of my class and heir apparent. Grandma may still choose another, but it was unlikely if I should prove myself worthy by bringing her Hood’s head.
Fina screamed and giggled from her play area, so I got up to find her in a massive diaper blow-out, playing in her own?—
I sighed and rubbed my tired eyes. It was going to be a long day.
Mom returned after an hour, her eyes filled with fear. “It’s—it’s—you’ve gotta go. Get out of here, I’ll take—” She swiped Fina from my arms. Fina began crying, feeling the energy shift in the room.
Mom was running around, grabbing my go-satchel with all my remedies in it. My heart sunk.
“Anna?” I asked. Fear threatened to bubble up, but I stuffed it down. My family needed me.
Mom nodded, settling Fina with her favorite doll—or, at least, trying to. Pale-faced and frantic, Mom tried to get Fina settled even as she handed me my things.
I set my hands on her shoulders, forcing her to stop and look at me. “Mom? I need to you listen to me right now, alright?” Her fevered eyes darted around, but then landed back on me. She nodded. “Good. I need more information. Tell me what’s wrong with Anna.”
“She collapsed. The healer doesn’t know what to do for her. She’s unconscious, barely breathing.”
When this occurs, she needs… I drew in a sharp breath. I’d given my last mage stone to the nymph. I thought I would have time to get another. Most times these episodes happened every two new moons at most; this was the second time within a single moon cycle.
As bad as I hated it, I needed help. From the last place I thought I’d ever ask. But they were my only hope. My black- market supplier told me in no unclear words I’d have to find someone else to buy from.
Ran.
I feel you, Two-Legs. What ’ s wrong?
Anna. She ’ s collapsed again. I need another mage stone.
A burst of concern passed through the bond. What can I do?
Go to the doc ’ s house. You remember what I taught you about spelling?
Of course, Two-Legs. You were an idiot trying to reach a club-footed creature—Wait. You don ’ t mean for me to ? —
Exactly. Spell it out to him. Please.
Blasted two legs. Fine. I ’ ll be back when I can.
“Mom, I’ve got Anna. But you need to take deep breaths before you pass out. I can’t leave until you’re able to take care of Fina and Jess, alright?”
Mom took a moment, her eyes hazy as if far away, but then they snapped back to me. She gave a sharp nod, determination burning in her eyes.
“Good job, Mom. You’ve got this. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“You’re needed more there, hon. Take your time. We trust you.”
I nodded, hoping against hope Doc would part with a mage stone. If not… my sister...
No, I wouldn’t go there. Ran would come through. She had to.