22. Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
Zev
Z ev wasn’t fond of crowds. It was difficult to focus on one of his senses when there was so much commotion around him. The faint drone of magic, the clack of movement, and the roar of voices swarmed his ears in a constant hum. He tensed every time someone or something brushed against his skin. His sensitive sight struggled to adjust to the colorful streets and the writhing crowd. Then there was the smell. Strange, new scents swung from pleasant to unpleasant on a pendulum. His nose twitched at the lingering scent of bitter herbs. It was beginning to give him a headache.
The quietness of Skelling Rising had been a gift.
Dyna normally enjoyed discovering new places, but she didn’t seem to enjoy the trip through the market either. She walked silently beside him, not bothering to browse the merchant stalls or shop for the provisions they needed.
Her gaze was fixed on the east.
But Zev had already guessed why she chose to accompany him. There was no time to explore when the only thing on her mind was how to enact her plan to find Tarn.
Zev had overheard the last of Dyna’s conversation with Lucenna that morning, and he worried.
Because he had wondered the same.
Was this all to prove she didn’t need Cassiel? Or was her recklessness to spite him? The questions made him feel guilty, so he decided not to question her anymore.
As Zev paid a merchant for a sack of potatoes, he told her, “I am finished here unless you would like to stop in any of the shops?”
Dyna shook her head.
He asked the merchant where he could find a blacksmith and was pointed in another direction. They eventually reached the smithy street, and he was greeted by the familiar beat of hammers and smoke. Bright fires glowed from the forges lining the streets, heating the air.
It stirred a bit of nostalgia in him, reminding him of the beginning of their journey. He inhaled a breath and halted in the middle of the busy street.
“What is it?” Dyna asked quietly. She reached for her sword’s hilt, studying their surroundings.
“That scent...” Zev’s wolf stirred inside of him as he sniffed the air. His eyes widened. “It’s her.”
“Who?”
“Lara…”
It was faint but enough for him to identify it, or maybe because the memory of her scent was still so potent in his mind.
Zev eagerly followed the trail until it brought him to a forge further down the street. The scruffy blacksmith there beat his large hammer over a plate of metal.
He paused, sensing Zev. His eyes flared blue with his wolf in acknowledgment. Setting down his tools, he studied Zev and smirked. “I have been waiting for you, pup.”
Zev frowned. “He hadn’t been called pup in a while, nor did he recognize the Lycan. He never forgot a scent, and he certainly had not smelled the irony musk on this one before. But Lara’s scent was here, too.
It rose above all the others, so starkly out of place, like a flower in a barren field.
Zev glanced around, expecting to see her walk around the corner.
“She is not here.” The blacksmith wiped his dirty hands on a soot stained rag. “Hold a moment. I have something for you.”
For him?
He soon returned and handed Zev a wrinkled envelope smudged with soot. “I was told to give this to a Lycan who fits your description.”
Zev stared down at the envelope a moment, his pulse stirring. Then he lifted the flap. The sweetest scent drifted to him from the folded page inside, and he knew what it was.
Dyna gave him a small smile and went to sit on a nearby bench to wait, giving him privacy. Careful not to tear the page with his claws, Zev took it out and read the black scribbles.
Dear Zev,
I hope my letter makes its way to you, because if you are reading this, it means you chose to live. Forgive me for assuming, but I caught the scent of silver on you at our first meeting. Wayland is a skilled blacksmith. He will tend to your chains well.
I must share the wonderful news that the Lupin Pack survived thanks to Dyna’s medicine. Please pass on our thanks, we owe her a great debt.
As for my brother and I, we arrived in Little Step before the first snowfall. The train will take us home. Should you ever come west, you are always welcome in Lángshān.
Yours,
Lara
On the bottom of the page, she added: Ronin insists that I mention the Garou Pack is nearly complete. Whatever that may mean.
Zev’s eyes lingered on the word yours . Then on her name. There was no connotation behind it but a means to sign off a letter. Yet it made him smile all the same.
He read each stroke of ink again while imagining the words in the timbre of her voice. Lara had written to him at the start of winter, yet the page still smelled of her. Zev subtly inhaled in her scent from the air once more before carefully returning the letter to the envelope and tucking it safely in his pocket.
Wayland leered knowingly. “Good news, I take it, eh?”
Zev removed his thick chains from his pack, and they clanked loudly as he set them on the service counter. “Only that I don’t need to come up with some explanation for what these are for. You come highly recommended.”
Wayland chuckled and crossed his hairy arms. “Our kind know good smithing when they see it. Worry not, I will see that your pup chains are reinforced.”
Zev’s wolf growled, the sound rumbling in his head.
Now he saw why Wayland had taken to calling him that. A Lycan should have outgrown the use of chains by now.
“How much do I owe you?” He reached into his pocket.
The payment is covered. “Call it a pack courtesy.”
Zev paused, not expecting Ronin to pay for the work in advance. “Thank you.” He placed a couple coins on the counter anyway. “For the letter and for your haste. I will come for the chains before dawn.”
“Aye, fine that, pup.”
“I am called Zev,” he snarled, his eyes flaring yellow. The wooden counter cracked beneath the force of his claws. Wayland held his ground, but the stale scent of fear joined the smoke. Zev smiled tightly, bearing his fangs. “And I am much too old to be a pup, wouldn’t you agree?”
Wayland nodded meekly. “Your pardon,” he said quietly. “I haven’t seen a fully grown Lycan who still uses chains. At this point it’s too…” He looked away and cleared his throat. “Aye, it’s no business of mine. Have a good night.”
A heavy feeling sank in Zev’s chest. He stared mutely at Wayland’s retreating back before he could make himself leave.
Dyna rose from the bench, eyeing the blacksmith stand. “I hope he apologized.”
“More or less.”
She smirked as they strode down the street together. “I feared you were going to tear out his throat.”
“He should know better than to antagonize another wolf,” Zev muttered. Especially one who wasn’t in control of his Other.
“So, what did the letter say?” Dyna asked, giving him a teasing smile. “Did Lara confess her undying love?”
Zev’s choked on a cough. “Hardly.”
She laughed. “Then?”
“Not much.” He shrugged, scratching the side of his neck. “They say the Lupin Pack survived.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful!”
“And I am invited to visit their pack in Lángshān.”
Dyna’s smile grew wider, and he couldn’t help being glad to see it. “Then she did confess.”
He scoffed. “You’re having a laugh. I don’t know why you’re assuming there’s anything of the sort between us.”
“Zev, I saw the way you looked at her.”
He walked faster to hide how red his face felt. “What you saw was fascination at discovering there were others like me.”
“I know what I saw,” Dyna said. “As I know you didn’t see the way she looked at you when you weren’t looking.”
He stopped in place. A tangled mess of emotion wrangled in his chest. Surprise. Confusion. Hope. All overshadowed by denial and resignation. “It doesn’t matter. I am not going to Lángshān.”
“What? Why?” Dyna came around to face him, frowning incredulously.
“You know why.”
She shook her head. “Because of the Other? For that very reason you should go. They can help you.”
“I will not put her at risk, Dyna. It’s too late.” Because Zev knew that’s what Wayland had attempted to say. It was possible to control the Other— if he had been taught as a pup. But his Other had been untamed for years, grown too wild and too strong.
During their stay in Skelling, Zev had tried to connect with his Other. He thought perhaps he could teach himself how to control it. But when Zev did, he felt it rush to the surface and almost take over him. He inwardly shuddered now at the thought. At how easily it could have been released in the town and tear into any prey that crossed its path.
It had come out on its own once when he had been cornered by the Lykos Pack. It must have been the instinct to survive that set it free.
But if he called on his Other, what if he couldn’t call it back?
The full moon was near, and he sensed it there beneath his skin. Eager to be released.
Goosebumps scattered over his arms. “There is no controlling it, Dyna.”
Zev tried to move on by Dyna moved in his way. “No, I don’t believe that,” she said. “It’s never too late, and I refuse to let you say so. We are going to Lángshān someday. Whether it be on this journey or thereafter. Because you promised to learn how to fight for yourself, too, remember?” Her eyes lowered to the thick scars on his wrists. “A life bound in chains is not living.”
Her words reminded him of the last dream he had of his father. I never taught you to give up.
To do so would make the Madness return. That wasn’t what he wanted. He was finally free, and he had to put in the effort to stay that way.
Sighing, Zev mused her hair. “You’re right.” As the wind brushed against him, he caught that bitter herbal scent again. It had been following them around since before the city, so he had assumed it was some plant in the region, but he still smelled it. Zev subtly sniffed Dyna and reared his head back, wrinkling his nose.
“What is it?”
“You smell … odd.”
She pulled away from him, giving him a strange look. “What do you mean?”
Zev’s nose twitched. “What is that scent? Are you taking a tonic? Are you ill?” He attempted to check her forehead, but she dodged him.
“I’m fine. You’re smelling the balm I used last night.” Dyna continued and her paced picked up. “Let’s go find the others.”
Frowning, Zev followed but he wasn’t going to let her change the subject that easily. “Your balms usually smell of honey and eucalyptus. This new one smells of rank weeds.”
“Well, that happens when it’s made with a sedge flower that grows in these parts. It has a bitter scent instead of floral, but I find it works quite well.”
His brow furrowed. “What is it for?”
She was quiet a moment before saying, “It keeps the nightmares at bay.”
There was something in her voice that made Zev slow. “Dyna, you know you can talk to me, don’t you? I’m right here. Simply talk to me. I know you’re not all right. We all do.”
His cousin paused in the middle of the street, but she didn’t look at him though. The last rays of sunlight casting off the roofs lit up her hair as tresses blew around her face.
Her emerald eyes fixed on the towering clouds above them, and he could almost see a hint of Nazar’s floating islands. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Of course. Anything.”
“I need you to go on pretending that you don’t know that.”
Zev’s throat tightened at the emptiness in her expression when she looked at him, and he nodded. Sure, he could do that, but only for so long. Because he couldn’t be the only one who fought to go on living.
Sighing, Dyna leaned against him, her entire body sagging as if she needed that support from him. “Shall we return to the inn, or wander about until we catch up with Rawn?”
Zev wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and they made their way down the street together. “Hmm. Let’s see where fate takes us.”