Chapter 5
FEYRA
The people stared at me with my bloodied clothes, stained hands and face, singed hair, and seared flesh. My chest burned from where the beam embers had exploded, searing my flesh, and branding me. My clothes were melded into my body.
I bumped into men and women, spinning around and falling backwards into the dust. I panicked and bumped into a horse. It neighed and rose on its hindlegs. The owner yelled and I felt the hot tears sizzling my face as I ran.
Aunt Teetee was dead. She was gone.
Someone grabbed me and began pulling. I screamed, batting them and their strong hands, but I had no strength. I cried as I was dragged into the alleyway.
“Fey!”
I refused to listen. They called again. Then a hand slapped my cheek, shocking me out of my hysterics. I was looking at the face of my best friend.
“Oh Aggie,” I cried, embracing her. I let the tears and sobs come in earnest. Aunt Teetee’s dead body with her burning house behind flashing into my mind.
The gash slithering up her belly that had loosened her stomach was finished with another on her face.
Blood everywhere, boiling in the burning room and stinging my nostrils.
All because of some letter. Some prophecy. A truth that Aunt Teetee had confirmed with her death. I had to get to Jebra. To my mother. Wherever that was…
I pulled back, suspending the grief. I wiped my face. I didn’t have time to waste. If someone was willing to kill Aunt Teetee over my life, I had no doubt they’d do the same for me.
“What happened?” Agatha asked, looking at my face and bloody clothes in shock. She pulled me further into the alleyway, away from all the people.
Aunt Teetee’s body flashed again in my mind. “Someone killed Aunt Teetee and burned down her house,” I said. Agatha’s face paled. “But they were really wanting to kill me.”
“What?” she gasped.
“There she is!”
A man in black robes signaled for another group to follow. A long scar ran from his cheek to his throat. Grinning, he pulled down a face mask.
I took Agatha’s hand and sprinted for the other end of the alleyway through dark shadows and threatening doorways. Coming into the sunlight, I led us into the crowd against the way of travel and didn’t risk looking back.
We jumped in front of a crossing wagon train and fled down another alleyway. Agatha screamed and stumbled in a rut. I picked her up, taking the moment to look back. On the other side of the passing train were four men, all in black, all with clubs.
All looking at me.
I took Agatha in my arms, and we limped forward. Crossing a path of another wagon train, turning into another back alley. The voices of the men called after us, but they were still held up by the trains. If we were going to get away and to the wall, we’d need to be quicker.
I came to a stop by a stable yard. We were going to the wall?
“What’s going on?” Agatha said breathlessly.
“They must be the men that killed Aunt Teetee,” I said, looking into the stable yard. I saw no boys mucking out stalls or men lingering with pipes. “C’mon.” I pulled Agatha through the arch and found a horse that was saddled.
I helped Agatha on and positioned her at the back. “Oh, you know I hate riding,” she said.
“We don’t have any options.” I jumped up and checked the reins.
It knickered and I moved the horse out of the stall.
I booted its ribs, and we shot forward, Agatha gripping my middle with hands like vices.
We burst from the stable and into the lane.
The four men stopped in surprise, then jumped aside from the horse barreling forward.
We broke free of the alley and back into the street. I turned the horse for the wall, and we were away, guards and inspectors calling for us to slow down and citizens yelling insults.
I laughed in happiness for getting away but doubt still gnawed at my insides. I had the letter and pendant, and I knew that I should trust it with Aunt Teetee having died because of it, yet I still struggled. How could it be real? How could any of it be real? Who would know the seal?
We rounded a corner and broke out into the roads and fields that were the farming lands for Lassig. It had barely been a few hours since I was last here, and now it looked completely different with people working and hurrying about.
The great doors were wide open with wagon trains coming up along the trail. The train captain was arguing with a guard.
That was our answer.
The werewolves in the Warlands would know the seals. Surely someone out there could help me. We just had to get to Moondaj.
I slowed the horse and came over to the side of the road. Jumping off, I reached back up for Agatha. “What’s going on?” she asked, refusing to move.
“No time,” I said.
She grunted and took my hand, sliding off the horse in one motion. Leaving the horse there, I dragged Agatha into the fields. We moved diagonally, coming to the wall further away from the doors. Agatha kept asking questions, tugging my hand, and pouting. But I didn’t stop. We didn’t have time.
We came to the stairs and fissure in the wall where I hid.
“Okay, I refuse to go any further.” Agatha planted her feet, crossing her arms and standing straight among the corn. “I need to know what’s going on.”
Her normally perfect brushed blonde hair was dirty, her blue eyes like steel. Her face cut through my panic and made me stop.
“Auntie is dead,” I implored.
“You’ve said that,” Agatha said. “But why?”
“Because of this.” I snatched the letter and pendant from my pocket and showed them to Agatha. Tears returned to my eyes, and I pressed the pendent into the seal on the letter.
“Who gave you this?” she asked incredulously, her eyes wide. “This was sealed with your pendant. And you’ve always had your pendant on you. Unless someone has another one? Or–”
Her mouth snapped shut. I nodded.
“Can I–” she gestured with the letter.
“Of course,” I muttered.
Agatha was practically my sister. I’d never keep anything from her.
We’d both grown up poor in Lassig our whole lives.
We had compassion for each other when a whole town didn’t want to give it to us.
I was a dormant werewolf, and she was the illegitimate daughter of some High Lord of Lady Skol’s.
She should’ve been dead along with her mother in the ditch by the farming district, but someone had found her.
Agatha’s eyes widened further as she read on, her jawing dropping with each line. “Fey,” she began. “This is–”
“I know,” I said, taking the letter and pendant back. “Hard to believe. But someone was willing to kill Auntie for it. They’ll kill me too.”
Agatha shook her head, then shut her mouth again. I took her hand and looked where the guards were, ran up the stairs, and squeezed into the fissure before any more could be said. Agatha grunted behind me as she entered the small opening.
Where I always climbed upwards and to the look out, a second trail continued forward. Leading through the wall and onto the other side. Out into the Warlands. We emerged into the harsh sun on the other side. Baked rocks jarred our feet and the small plants that grew here were stunted and spikey.
“So what are we doing?” Agatha asked.
I pulled her along behind me, leading us along the wall towards the wagons. The great line coming through the door traced back to the road. The second part of the wagon train was now splitting up.
Half for Lassig.
The other for Moondaj.
“We’re getting on one,” I said.
“On a wagon?” Agatha asked.
“Exactly.”
“But–but that’s an enormous sprint with all the guards watching.” Agatha tried to stop again, but I pulled her on.
“It’s the only way,” I said. “Only way to Moondaj.” I pointed at the distance village on the horizon.
Agatha stared at the train, one cart already heading for the desert village. We would have to sprint like crazy to make the last cart as it left, but with all the assistants and sellers running back and forth between the wagons, we’d blend in.
Once we changed clothes of course.
“Ready?” I asked.
We watched the back of the Moondaj gates close as we rolled into the village. Our legs hung off the rear edge of the wagon. When we passed the first street we hopped off, running away quickly.
We had new clothes and Agatha had washed my wounds.
We’d have to find a healer, but that wasn’t a problem.
We were here now, that was what mattered.
We remained silent, watching the village we’d heard of but never seen our whole lives.
The horrors of shifters having been told to us our whole lives, their old ways and full moon sexual rituals…
their violence and arguing. But despite all that they looked normal.
All the people we saw were just like us. The village held blacksmiths, farmers, merchants, and sellers. Mothers had kids at their apron strings and then those very same children were playing in the streets. Horses were in stables even with every person being able to turn into a wolf.
We may as well have been in Outer Lassig.
We shook our heads in awe, smiling like goofs at one another. I laughed and then hugged Agatha. “It might be hard to track us all the way to here.”
Agatha shook her head and laughed. “Who are you and where is my best friend?”
The smile left my face, I looked down at my shift, embarrassed. “Thank you for coming Aggie, you didn’t even hesitate.”
“I wasn’t given a chance!” she said, playfully pushing me. “But of course, Fey.” She shook her head in determination. “We have to try and understand your letter.”
She looked around tentatively, eyeing a mountain of a man leaning against a cart. We moved on, heading towards an opening further up. More and more people were gathering there. I began to feel very nervous all of a sudden.
It was like I could feel that everyone was on edge. Groups of men were talking in hushed tones, while others with arms crossed cracked knuckles. Beyond the square was a large spire of stone. A pillar.
The Pools of Prophecy floated into my mind. I knew that was the name.
We came to the square and the atmosphere was thick; violence solidified. I could hear a woman singing. Men around us were asleep. Why on earth were they all napping in the square under this harsh sun?
Where a tingle of a feeling had run through me before though, a lightning bolt struck me now.
A loud howl echoed into my head. It was the sweetest, most precious sounding howl I’d ever heard.
Except I’d never heard a howl. In my dreams where I was a werewolf, I was always alone in a castle.
But this howl melted through my mind and made me weak in the knees. I felt a deep longing for whoever made that sound.
Then I saw him.
He bounded across the square, leapt a cart in one move and slid to a stop in front of two children playing. He caught the fists of two gigantic men who’d been advancing towards the pillar of rock.
He crushed their hands like they were twigs and broke their arms. They screamed in pain and a riot started. Only to stop immediately.
The single man stood there, shining with power and command. His hair flowing like a mane, the robe around him was taught from his muscles. His body bulged with health. If he’d been dressed as a beggar, it could only be a ruse.
He looked like a god.
He was the best looking man I’d ever seen.
And everyone stood awaiting him.
A screech cried in the air, making everyone in the square flinch. But the lone god-wolfman stood rigid.
I was moving forward before I realized what I was doing. Eyes followed me and my brain screamed for me to stop, but I couldn’t listen to it. My heart howled along with the wolf I’d just heard in my mind.
He looked at me, as if he’d heard my howl. My heart reached out to his, and I felt his reaching back. I extended my arms forward and fell to my knees. I looked up at him, my neck exposed and breath heavy.
I wanted him to mark me. I wanted him to make me his. I wanted–
“What is this?” he snapped, sneering down at me. Then looking around at the men. “What trick is this?”
The love that was blossoming in my heart faltered. The heart that had been reaching back at me snapped shut like a gate, imprisoning my chest. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. This felt worse than Aunt Teetee’s death. This felt worse than–
“Who are you?” he growled.
I looked back up into eyes that I knew I loved, a face I wished to see every morning when I woke, arms I yearned to be held by–
“I’m your fate,” I said, weakly.