31. CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 31
Noa
By the time the passage opened into daylight and we stumbled into Aine’s graveled garden, Effa had stopped shrinking. But she was indignant about barely seeing over the low hedges guarding the many-petaled flowers. She had to stand on her toes to reach into the fountain with the statue of cavorting nymphs and the faun, beautiful women, all of them, in flowing marble gowns stained with moss. She splashed petulantly, declaring if she had to look like a child, she would behave like one.
“Every nymph who stays here too long,” Caerwen had advised, “shrinks when she leaves.”
Her words held no soothing value since Effa was intent on her tantrum, which had as much to do with the stress she’d been under as it did with her petulant side. She needed to release it physically, and her antics were—I’d admit—both entertaining and satisfying in some odd way. I wanted to splash next to her.
“The shrinking is Noa’s fault,” Aine declared, rushing from a path in the labyrinth.
“How is that my fault?” I demanded, flustered and hot from the running.
“I’d rather not upset the magic by saying.” But Aine stood at my side and stroked my hair, a riotous dark mess after all the running. “You’ve disrupted everything by coming here.”
“Take that up with Urd, since she planned it all.”
“Nonsense.” The Queen of the Forest kissed my forehead, tucked a strand of errant hair behind my ear. “You aren’t like those queens, you know. You must have something of your father in you.”
“I never knew him.” Only through a letter stored in my mother’s box.
“I’m sure he had courage. And honor beyond measure.” The way Aine said that, I almost asked if she’d ever met my father before she added, “I’m so relieved that you survived.”
“So am I.” My voice shook. “Never let that witch out, Aine. She’s evil. Ask Metis if you have to, but reinforce that prison.”
“I will.” Aine cupped my cheek. “How did you get here?”
“I wished hard enough,” I said and didn’t elaborate. “Will Effa be okay?”
“We’ll get her to her meadow. Same with Caerwen. And you?”
I glanced around. “I need to leave.”
“You need rest.”
I stared at the Queen of the Forest. “Time, Aine. I don’t have it to spare.”
Concern darkened her eyes. “Go through your house. The magic will let you leave.”
I hurried along the path until I reached the house, so like the one in Azul. The magic waited with a warm brush against my face. I lingered long enough to savor the memory, the comfort, and then pushed down the hall, through the replica of Grayson’s cave and out into the snowy sunlight. The altered weather threw me off, the shifting seasons, but if snow was still on the ground, then I hadn’t been gone longer than a week.
It was near dusk when I reached Azul. Lights glowed in most of the houses, reflecting on the lake. My house was dark as I hurried up the steps, slipped inside. The hollow thud of my feet against the wooden floor echoed as I turned on light after light. In my pocket, Amal’s rune stone fluttered with the faintest hint of life—relief rushed at the hope. Hope that I had not failed. But I dared not try to syphon. After the centuries, the wolf might not have much life force left. What if it turned completely mad? Became feral?
My eyes stung when I imagined what that poor creature endured. Perhaps she’d been as greedy as Amal, or as vengeful. But the wolf hadn’t deserved the centuries of what the vampires created—an unending torment—no more than Amal had deserved it when they turned her against her will.
My entire body ached with exhaustion. As I stared at the stairs leading to the bedroom and bath, my legs wobbled. I’d never make it that far.
Behind me, the front door crashed open, and a figure rushed in with a baseball bat raised high and a banshee scream flying from her lips.
“Hattie!” I gasped, my heart in my throat. “It’s me.”
“Oh—bless the gods!” The bat clattered to the floor as she hugged me, swallowing me up in the scent of roses and freshly baked bread. “Leo is on his way.”
It turned out that the nymphs and I had been gone for over three weeks. During that time, fighting in the north had grown fierce and immediate. No waiting around by Amal’s army for better weather. Amal sensed danger and attacked several settlements. The competing packs improvised, with old adversaries needing trust and cooperation when there was little to none to draw upon.
“The Alpen suffered first. Multiple attacks. Then settlements in Sentinel Falls.”
“How bad?”
“Owen Griffith,” Hattie said. “He’d taken in refugees from Cariboo and Azul. His wards were over-burdened, but it happened in the middle of the day when most of his people were evacuating. They brought in the wounded two days ago.”
I turned toward Leo. “Anyone I know?”
He was the world’s worst secret keeper. No matter what he said, I would always see the truth in his eyes. “We heard some of the young ones were taken hostage. Teenagers. They’ll be used as leverage if the packs attack.”
The soup Hattie had heated and insisted that I eat cooled in front of me. I toyed with the spoon, afraid to ask but already knowing by the weight in my heart. Adriel was living at Owen’s settlement. So was Catrina.
“Where were they taken?”
“To her fortress.”
Not as leverage, but as bait to draw the wolves in. The alphas. One alpha, who was also a dread lord.
Leo rearranged the water glass in front of me, making sure it was full. “Mace’s spies reported from inside Amal’s compound. No proof she’s discovered how to strip the wolves from alphas or anyone else.” He eyed me steadily. “Did you get what you needed… wherever you went?”
“Yes.”
“Will it help?”
“If I get there in time.”
“The transports for the wounded already left,” said Hattie, fidgeting with a soup ladle, which she’d been using to refill my bowl every time I took a spoonful.
“A supply convoy leaves in two days.” Leo’s expression hardened. “Alpen men are driving.”
“They’ll be my last resort,” I said through a frozen smile.
The plan developed in my head. One where I’d open a passage like the one I’d opened from outside Pelonie’s wrinkle. The same way I’d created an opening through a solid wall when I’d been training with Laura for Brin’s rescue.
Amal created passages all the time for her abominations. Perhaps I had the same talent. One thing I knew was that waiting two days for a ride with Alpen men wasn’t comforting. Nightmare images swamped me. Images of fighting while I stood by and did nothing.
I had to find a way. Get close to Amal. And yet, no matter how hard I tried, the magic refused to cooperate. No passage opened despite my ranting. The best it would do was fill my closet with winter clothes, heavily knitted wool sweaters and tunics, fur-lined leather trousers that were remarkably flexible. A hoodie that would conceal my face. A clandestine visit to the armory was done during the night and netted me a new bow with more of Mace’s special arrows, the ones tipped with wolfbane, which I added to the silver-tipped arrows left over from my adventure with Pelonie.
When I slipped from the armory, a low-pitched voice froze me in place. “Did you get everything you needed?”
A male stood in the shadows. A Sentinel Falls sentry, although I didn’t remember his name.
“How long were you watching?”
“Since you arrived in Azul. Orders,” he said with a flash of canines. “Dozens of watchers. For whenever you showed up.”
“Mace?” I guessed.
“He has faith in you.”
I readjusted the arrows in the quiver. “And you didn’t?”
“You have our loyalty. Our respect. And our love, Noa Bishop. Your life above ours.”
“No,” I said, and slid the quiver over my shoulder, settled the strap. “Fight for justice. For what brings peace. What will set this crazy world right.”
“Vampires roam through the forest.” Another important reason for his vigilance.
I nodded my gratitude. “I won’t invite them inside.”
“They would not get close enough to knock,” the guard said with a shrug that had me smiling at his swagger. “If you decide to hitch a ride, hide in the back of the last truck in line. We’ll throw a tarpaulin over the crates with blankets hidden beneath. Take food and water, dress warm enough to keep you comfortable. Reluctant allies, the Alpen. Boredom annoys them. It’s a nine-hour drive. You don’t want to be the diversion.”
I laid out all the weapons once I was home. Planned and sorted and ran through every obstacle until the scenarios became jumbled. Laid on my back on the bed and tried to sleep. Dawn was a rumor in the night sky when I dressed warmly enough to remain comfortable for nine hours. Decided not to press my luck with bathroom breaks, packing only some cheese and a few tart apples. I’d gone longer without food or water.
Amal’s rune stone was a slight weight in the zippered pocket hidden in the fur-lined trousers; if anyone searched me, the stone would be overlooked. The tunic sweater itched at first, but I appreciated the warmth. The guard was waiting in the shadows. I approached the last truck in the convoy and then crouched down to scan the neighboring trucks. Looking for any errant Alpen sentries and finding none.
The guard gestured with an outstretched hand, a conductor directing me toward the lowered tailgate, then making quick work of closing it into place once I was inside, diving beneath the tarp. His palm slapped twice against the metal, a dull thump that signaled the driver. The truck’s engine coughed to life, and the tires lurched forward.
“Gods be with you,” the guard mouthed as the truck moved away and he faded into the shadows.
Nine hours in the back of an unheated truck caused muscle cramps I wouldn’t wish on an enemy. I stretched my legs out, ran through a sequence of yoga exercises that didn’t resemble the real thing. Crawled on all fours to peer out through the canvas flaps meant to conceal the cargo inside. Nothing but snow, roiling up behind the tires, coming down from the dull sky. The chilling wind sent me back to the blanket nest, where I slipped into that twilight place between wakefulness and sleep. Where I was a child, listening to my mother’s voice.
Go to sleep, darling. It’s a long ride.
Where are we going, mama?
Far away from here. Seattle. Where it’s safe.
But I don’t want to leave.
Sometimes, darling, you have to leave those you love if you’re ever going to have a life.
I love you, mama, and I don’t want anything if it means not being with you.
We don’t always have a choice, dear heart. If you stay, you’ll only get hurt. Run now. Run while you still have a chance.
Are we talking about something new? I asked the voice in my head—my mother’s voice.
You’ve been so brave, Noa. I wish you’d listened to me. All those years ago.
That isn’t an answer.
It’s all I can give.
The tires thumped. The truck lurched as the road roughened. Ice rimmed the edges of the tailgate and stiffened the canvas that flapped dully, much like the pain above my right eye. Cold weather always triggered a headache, and the pain had nothing to do with the dream conversation I’d had with my mother.
I uncoiled slowly, testing my muscles, joints, the level of stiffening. My mouth tasted like my last meal—a delight from Hattie. I’d hadn’t been able to tell her no. My teeth hurt. None of the truck surfaces were shiny enough to catch a reflection of my hair, so I judged by touch alone and concluded that a braid remained but bristled like an irritated hedgehog. My right shoulder throbbed from supporting my body weight. But from the changing rumble of engines, the convoy had reached its destination. Voices punctuated the slamming of metal doors.
I was rubbing at my teeth, trying to summon some cleanliness, when a man whipped the canvas coverings back, exposing the blankets where I kneeled. Exposing me as the stowaway I was and allowing in the furious arctic wind.
“Get out,” Lec Rus growled.
“This instant?”
“I can drag you.”
“Help would be nice,” I said, “since I can’t straighten my legs.”
“It wouldn’t be help,” he answered. Always the Alpen snarl at the end.
“I can still syphon.” I spread my fingers, a sad threat, but one that narrowed his eyes. “Care to get close enough? Find out what it feels like?”
He made a show of looking around. The truck had diverted away from the others in the convoy. I let my gaze skim over bleak, snow-covered crates piled high to block visibility. Beyond, pine trees stabbed upward, the branches heavy with accumulated snow which fell in thick slabs and thudded into pieces on the frozen ground.
Behind Lec Rus stood ten men, heavily clothed, radiating the hostility of the unwilling ally. The alpha’s smirk annoyed me when he said, “Hardly a fair fight when every wolf you see is Alpen. No one else will protect you.”
“I will.”
The male voice startled—and then terrified me. I jerked my head around. Gods—what more would a girl want? Not only an angry, stubborn Mule, but Barend, here to fight over who got to me first.
The tips of my fingers burned as I clenched my hands. Breathed to slow my racing heart. The sweat gathering beneath my woolen clothes was uncomfortable and clammy. I forced one leg to move, then the other, scooting over the open tailgate, unladylike on my butt before I slid out of the truck.
My knees buckled as I hit the ground, and I grabbed for support.
Fortunately, it wasn’t the vampire I reached for.
Unfortunately, it was Lec Rus, my fingers slamming against his bunched forearm. The second I steadied myself, I whipped my hand away, half afraid he’d latch on.
But perhaps Barend caused the Alpen to be cautious, although Rus still sneered at the vampire. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for her.”
I loathed Barend with a singular intensity. He wore black, similar to Lec Rus. But he wore it with arrogance, where the Alpen simply wore it.
“Set took care of your little tracking gift,” I said. “The poison in the runes. Grayson’s been eliminating your advantage. Ago’s dead. Looks like you’re running out of allies.”
A smile played around the vampire’s lips. “You’re not one of them?”
“Imagine it, Barend.” I smiled back, mostly teeth, but still… a smile. “Imagine how my hands will warm as I suck out your life force until there’s nothing left but dried skin.”
“I told you safety was fought for, never given.”
“You also told me only mortals died for the right principle and thought it made a difference.”
“My offer still stands,” he said. “I can give you what you need to defeat Amal.”
“Not even close. We might agree on the outcome, but not the path to get there.”
“You know Amal’s power. You’ve seen it.”
“I also know her weakness. Were you behind the attack on Julien?”
A startled twitch around the vampire’s eyes. “No. My spies tell me the attack came from Amal. She discovered what he was looking for and put a bounty on his head. Hoped to destroy him before he found anything useful.”
“What was he looking for?”
“You would have to ask him—rumors are ripe that he still lives.”
“Perhaps it was you,” I accused. “Playing the innocent now.”
The vampire rocked back on his heels. A slight smile changed his mouth from threatening to seductive. “I would have killed him on the wall if I wanted him dead.”
I smiled in return, so very coldly. “You wanted him alive to torture Set into cooperating.”
The vampire nodded. “Your instincts are like ours.”
If smiles won the wars, both Barend and I would be victors by now. My face hurt from the warfare. “Try again.”
“Turning you would be worth the struggle. But I fear you’d be too reluctant to do much good, and I’d waste the effort to change your opinion.”
“We’re allies enough as we are,” I said, grossly expanding the concept, but the Alpen was just as hostile.
And the Alpen had grown impatient; perhaps he’d realized that, with all the gods-damned smiling, he was more and more irrelevant. Lec exaggerated his posture, declaring, “You have no business here, Barend.”
“I have every right.”
“You bought wolves—”
“And you sold them,” the vampire answered. “Along with the elder from Sentinel Falls.”
“Different reasons.”
“But a moral equivalency.”
“Morals from a vampire break my heart, Barend,” I snapped. “Especially those vampires who fight with Amal and not against her.”
He turned his brittle charm on me. “Not my vampires. We have always fought against Amal, but you and yours have taken away our greatest weapons.”
“Hybrids who turn feral in battle?” the Alpen asked. “They’re useless, overwhelmed by the blood lust.”
The vampire said, “Flaws are everywhere, but we are as intent as you, Mule. We fight our own way.”
“And we can’t trust you,” Rus snarled.
I interjected, “Why are you here?”
“To join us?” the Alpen sneered. “Or recruit her?”
“To ask a favor.” Barend’s demeanor changed as his voice lowered. “If you get to him first—the vampire pinned to Amal’s wall.” He held out a plastic blood bag. “Antoine is my sire. He’ll be too weak to fight. I ask only that you give him this. Let him feed and regain the strength to free himself.”
I stared at the blood bag. “This was what you wanted all along?”
“Not all.”
“Vampires teleported hostages while Amal attacked,” argued Lec Rus, shooting his glare toward me. “We owe him nothing.”
“Not Barend’s vampires,” a woman said.
And who in flaming bright hell had invited a female’s voice into this conversation?
But Angel stood beside a tarp-covered stack of boxes. The one-eyed mercenary had her bow drawn, an arrow nocked and aimed at Barend, even though she’d just defended him, and the situation was determined to get worse because ten vampires slammed down around Barend, shimmering into being as they settled.
The way they appeared and disappeared was nauseating. Angel was saying something about, “Tempt me, vamp. Find out how Ago died.” And I struggled to find the normal in what was not normal.
“You’ll leave her alone,” said Angel while Barend’s fangs glistened. “She has a job to do.”
The Alpen snarked, “She’s a fucking damn stowaway.”
Barend expanded his shoulders, part mist.
Angel whistled, and the not-normal dissolved into chaos as men stepped out from behind trees and the storage containers, outnumbering the Alpen by the dozens, bypassing the vampires, standing in ranks behind… me?
Lec Rus glared at Angel. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Alpha of the Blackfish,” she said.
He stiffened. “I’ve heard of your pack. Rumor and nightmare.”
“Not rumor, but definitely nightmare.”
The men gathered behind me were powerful, bristling fighters, while Angel stood calmly.
“You’re their Alpha?” I hoped that didn’t sound as disbelieving as I felt.
She nodded.
I gestured. “And… these men are here because?”
“You need their protection.”
“They owe me nothing.”
“They owe your father,” she said.
“My father—”
“Was my brother. Bronson Dade. The murdered Alpha of Blackfish.”