16. Gracie
Gracie
We crossed into Cold Moon Pack mid-morning, the sky yellow and cornflower blue above land that was drained of color and life.
We rode in an open-top truck, giving me a full view of the land as the chilly autumn wind hit me right in the face.
The moment we passed the invisible line marking the border, my wolf went rigid, a low growl breaking through my lips before I could stop it.
My hand flew to my mouth in surprise as I sat frozen in the seat.
“You okay, little flame?” Thornar asked, turning in his seat to look back at me. The four of us sat up front, while the covered truck bed behind us held at least twenty soldiers.
“It’s my wolf,” I whispered, my cheeks heating in embarrassment.
Thornar’s gaze darkened with understanding and soft affection.
Her reaction wasn’t fear, but recognition—we were somewhere that had caused us pain, had nearly caused her to disappear.
I was sure part of her worried that could happen again.
Never again.
“I feel it too,” Basir said from beside me. “It may be the bond, though.”
Ravik let out a low rumble, his gaze flicking to me in the rearview mirror—to the mark on my neck. I loved knowing the four of us were so connected, and I was relieved that we had an idea, even an inkling, of how the magic was supposed to work.
But there wasn’t much we knew past that. I’d practiced connecting through the bond during our travels these past two days, and it had come easily.
Would it come easily when it mattered most, though?
“I’m surprised I haven’t heard from Nyxarra or Vaelithra,” I admitted. “Especially now that our bond is complete. I feel the difference with all of you, but I don’t feel much different when it comes to my magic. I felt more changed after I traveled to each of their realms.”
“Maybe the full bond was all that was missing,” Ravik offered, the truck jolting as we hit a bump in the road.
“Maybe.” I closed my eyes and tried to feel out the bond. It was steady and sure, same as always; my wolf just as vibrant. I turned my focus toward the gods, Nyxarra especially, since she and I had spoken so often. At first, there was nothing.
Then the softest, wordless whisper brushed against the edge of my mind.
Like someone reaching for me and barely grazing my hand.
Flashes of Northgrove flooded my mind again, my body nearly lurching forward toward our goal destination on instinct.
Basir grunted beside me, feeling it too.
I opened my eyes, shaking off the ache it left behind.
“I can feel something trying to reach me, but nothing clear. I just keep seeing Northgrove.”
“At least we know we’re going in the right direction,” Thornar mused.
The convoy crossed Cold Moon Pack territory in strict formation.
Lead vehicles moved in first, spaced wide enough that a single strike wouldn’t take out more than one car.
Ground troops flanked on foot at set intervals, weapons ready but not raised, eyes scanning terrain that offered no cover in any direction.
Overhead, I caught the distant shape of a dragon banking low, scouting the path ahead.
“Movement’s clean so far,” one of the commanders said over the comm, coordinating with the lead vehicles. “Nightstar Flight has eyes a half mile out. No visible hostiles yet.”
Yet. That was the important part. I watched the land stretch out ahead of us and felt myself grow more tense by the moment, waiting for the calm to break.
It was another quarter mile before the first mine went off.
Not close to us. It was a distant crack somewhere near the front of the convoy, followed by a plume of dark smoke as the struck vehicle rocked back and rolled over. Shit. Every muscle in my body locked rigid as our truck ground to a stop.
“Hold position.” That voice was one I recognized—one of the Ironsun Pack commanders.
Then another. “Engineers forward. Nobody moves until the path’s clear.”
From where I sat, I could only see the specialized units peel off from the main formation.
I couldn’t tell what they were doing beyond moving low and methodically, some kind of device sweeping in slow, deliberate arcs.
I kept my hand against my chest, taking a deep breath.
My heart ached for the lost vehicle, for the soldiers within who were either injured or gone.
We would eventually lose many more.
“Do you think they placed these for us?” I asked, though the second the words left my mouth, I felt foolish. Why else would they be here?
“Possibly. Could’ve been left from an earlier operation too,” Thornar said. “We just need to figure out how many.”
“And hope the whole stretch isn’t seeded with them,” Ravik murmured, eyes narrowing ahead.
Overhead, the dragons adjusted their pattern, flying lower and slower, scanning for anything the ground teams might miss. Every so often, another distant detonation cracked the silence as engineers purposefully cleared the charges.
We crawled forward slowly for the better part of an hour, the territory seeming to stretch endlessly in every direction.
My wolf paced restlessly at the edges of my awareness, hackles raised at all the potential danger around us. The whisper came again, closer this time, brushing against my mind like fingers trailing over skin. Not words exactly, but it carried the feel of one of the gods.
“What’s going on?” Thornar asked gently, watching my face. “I can feel you through our bond.”
“I keep feeling something reaching for me,” I explained. “I don’t know what it wants. Why wouldn’t they just talk to me like they normally do?”
Basir’s hand tightened around mine. “Maybe they can’t. Maybe something’s stopping them.”
I turned that over in my mind, my worry growing. I decided to let myself actively call out to the gods, specifically to the two I knew best. But the whole drive, I got nothing back.
I feared that Basir’s prediction was right.
We rolled forward through another hour of tense, careful silence, the engineers eventually calling an all-clear that had the whole convoy exhaling in relief.
The pace picked back up, though the caution never fully left the air.
Everyone’s eyes still scanned the road ahead even as the vehicles moved with more confidence.
It was then we spotted our first group of Cold Moon Pack soldiers.
“Movement, northeast ridge,” a commander said over the comm. “Cold Moon Pack unit. Estimate a dozen, maybe fifteen.”
I sat up straighter, my wolf snapping fully alert as I tried to get a view of them. I could just make out the shapes, small and distant, moving along a ridgeline that paralleled our route.
“Orders?” one of the commanders asked.
“We don’t need to engage everything we see,” Ravik said, speaking out on the comm while keeping the wheel steady under his hands.
“A unit that size isn’t a threat to a convoy this large, and stopping to deal with them costs us time and exposes our position longer than necessary.
Bloodrose, since you’re on that side, take two units and route around their flank.
Keep eyes on them in case they move to intercept. Everyone else, hold course.”
“Copy,” came the response, and I watched a portion of the convoy peel smoothly away, moving to shadow the distant unit without breaking the larger formation’s momentum.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
“Good call,” Thornar murmured, watching the ridge with narrowed eyes. “I’m sure they won’t be the only ones we come across.”
I felt a swell of pride at the sight of Ravik leading with the kind of calm, decisive authority that made soldiers trust him without hesitation.
It didn’t surprise me, but I was still in awe when my mates took charge so easily.
It made me want to grow so that I’d have the same confidence in my own decisions.
“There’s a river ahead,” Basir pointed out a half hour later, studying the tablet propped against his knee. “Runs east to west, cuts right across our route. Convoy will need the bridge crossing, but that’s another six miles out of the way.
“There’s a narrower path,” he continued, tracing a line on the map. “Goes straight through instead of around. Won’t hold the trucks, but a smaller unit could take it on foot or in lighter vehicles and rejoin the main convoy a few miles past the bridge.”
Thornar was already relaying it over the comm before Ravik could respond. When he finished, one of the commanders asked, “How small a unit?”
“Four, maybe eight with an escort,” Ravik said, already glancing toward Basir for confirmation.
“Do it,” he said. “Rejoin at the rally point in three hours. We’ll hold position there until you do.”
The convoy began to split, the heavier vehicles peeling east toward the bridge while our truck, along with a handful of soldiers on foot, angled toward the narrower path Basir had marked.
It was another twenty minutes before I recognized the shape of the road ahead.
My stomach dropped.
I knew this land. This stretch of road. I knew the way it curved around a now dead, leafless orchard. I knew with sudden, sickening certainty, exactly where we were.
“Gracie?” Basir’s voice was careful, having noticed the change in our bond before I could voice it.
“That’s…” I paused, the words catching as I stared at the skeletal shapes of the buildings in the distance. “That’s where I grew up. That’s my home.”