Chapter 6
Six
Sorin
Autumn and all her glory has set through the forest as I ride my way back to Wickersham the following morning. After a fitful sleep and a meager breakfast, my body and mind are fighting for who is more exhausted.
I blink away the fatigue to bask in the colors of the leaves and the setting sun. Rich oranges dance along bright yellows and greens. A blanket made of fallen leaves litters the ground, squelching under each press of Amis’ hooves. Closing my eyes, I listen to the call of the birds. I envision the maples that line Loxley’s streets. Their vibrant rust-colored leaves lighting up our small village. The buzz of some nearby sprites lulls me further into my daydream. The exhaustion pulses through me, and as Amis sways up and over the next hill, my grip on the reins loosens. How easy it would be to sleep. How needed it would be…
A howl cuts through the birdsong.
Jolting forward, my eyes spring open. “Heel.” Amis does so instantly, the soft padding of her hooves now silent. Craning my ear, I wait.
Another howl.
Still distant, but absolutely a howl. Pressing my heels into Amis’ sides, I steer her in the direction of the sound. “Go Amis.” I press my heel harder until we’re flying through the trees. Wet branches whip against my cheeks, spilling dewdrops into my hair and soaking my clothes.
But I won't stop.
More and more howls echo through the darkening forest, and it isn’t until I’m closer do I contemplate that the howls may not belong to Ruse or Alaric. They could very well belong to another pack of wolves.
And I have just ridden myself directly to them.
My stomach sloshes with nerves as Amis presses forward. I crane my ear again, chest tightening.
Silence.
The wind picks up, pulling my hood back and stinging my ears and cheeks.
Come on. Please be you, Alaric.
At the edge of the clearing, I halt Amis. I hop down and don’t bother tying her off. If we’ve stumbled upon a wolf den, she’ll need to be able to defend herself. My boots skid to a stop in the underbelly of the forest as another sound vibrates off the trees.
Not a howl this time, but canine no doubt.
A few more yips, and I’m running toward it, leaving all concern behind me.
Yip, yip, yip goes the sound and I’m running and running, until I’m falling straight down a hill. Sliding, unable to catch myself against the slippery leaves, I dig my fingers into the earth to slow my fall, lungs stinging as I attempt to catch my breath. The yipping has ceased and before I look down, the hair on the back of my neck raises. Swallowing my fear and cursing my stupidity, I brace myself as I slip further onto the other side of the hill and closer to what lies at the bottom.
A wolf’s den.
Shite.
Landing directly on my arse, I throw my hands to my back, reaching for my bow, the feathered ends of my arrows giving me a false sense of confidence when I’m stopped short by a rather large, wet tongue lapping against my cheek. Opening my eyes, one at a time, I burst into a fit of laughter as Alaric stands above me, his massive gray and white frame looming in the waning sunlight.
“Thank the Mother,” I say through a laugh, ignoring the fact that it very easily could have not been Alaric I ran into tonight. Standing, I brush off the dirt and leaves from my pants before reaching up to give the wolf a scratch behind the ears. “Where have you been, mate?”
He nuzzles my hand, and a rush of emotions hits me all at once.
If he’s this far from Valebridge, does that mean he’s giving up trying to get to Elora? My stomach drops, wishing desperately I had her gift and could speak to him the way she does. His amber eyes meet mine, and within them, I can see all the things he wants to say but can’t.
He’s never going to give up.
Just as I will never give up.
So why are you here?
He whines before licking my cheek again.
“I miss her too.” His coat is thick and smooth under my hand and when a low grumble sounds from behind Alaric, my heart warms. I know that grumble. Have heard it many times.
“Ruse!” I want to run to her, but I know better than that.
Her emerald eyes narrow, but she makes no effort to move. Another grumbling nose vibrates up her throat and at that, Alaric moves past me and toward the den. Dark and deep, it’s quite large but also quite discreet. Branches and leaves adorn the top and bottom. The opening is only large enough for the bodies of the massive wolves to move in and out of, not an inch more.
Alaric disappears, and I brave a glance at Ruse to my right. She hasn’t moved. Sitting perfectly still, her eyes trained on me.
Swallowing thickly, I count the minutes before Alaric returns and try my best to ignore the narrowed gaze of the massive wolf next to me. As I’m about to give up and make my way back to Amis, a yip sounds from inside the den. The same noise that I heard just before tumbling down the hill.
It couldn't be.
Could it?
As Alaric emerges from the den, my eyes widen and jaw goes slack as four wolf pups stumble out behind him. Two gray and white pups, matching Alaric almost identically. The third, a deep brown with specks of white on its snout. Then my eyes focus on the last pup, the smallest. Pure black. Just like Ruse.
My gaze darts between Alaric, the pups, and Ruse’s stony face to my right. The pups growl and snip at each other. Tiny masses of fur roll about the ground, tails wagging and bodies wiggling.
“Puppies?” I laugh again. Turning to Alaric, I pat his side, my smile wide. “You two have gone off and had yourself a litter?”
I shake my head, watching as the puppies pounce on each other. Ruse’s disappearance after we returned to Wickersham makes so much more sense. Her cold and distant demeanor even before that, perhaps a way of protecting herself and her unborn litter. She must have been already pregnant when we traveled through the Wicked Wood and perhaps her instincts drove her here the moment she was healed.
I breathe a sigh of relief, knowing how much more painful her loss would have been had she not survived the injury the night Elora was taken.
But she did survive.
And now, their pack has grown.
I smile again, watching the pups clumsily sniff and wrestle with each other. It feels good to smile but quickly my mind drifts. Settling again on Elora and how much I know she’d love to see this. I glance at Ruse, her eyes still locked on me.
“You’re a mum, Ruse.” I take a step toward her. She doesn’t move or make a sound, so I continue on. Reaching out, I let her sniff my palms, before I stroke her inky black fur. Her body tenses under my touch, but she doesn’t run or turn away.
I stand at her side, watching as Alaric and the four pups tumble about. “Well done, girl.”
After a few failed attempts to communicate with the wolves, I conceded and left them with their litter in their den. The more distance that’s placed between the wolves and me, the panic I’ve tried so hard to keep down creeps farther up my throat. Alaric and Ruse are a part of Elora, and leaving them behind feels like a betrayal. It feels like abandonment.
Stopping at the stables on the outskirts of Wickersham, I leave Amis for the night. She could use a long day of rest, and I could certainly stand for a bath after riding straight through. My boots slosh through various puddles as I head toward Mahaffey’s.
The bell on the door chimes as I stride in, shaking the raindrops from my hair before peering around for my sister and mother. To my surprise, the pub is almost empty save for a few local patrons I’ve come to know over the years. Park catches my eye, giving me a quick nod as he finishes polishing the bartop. I slink into one of the wooden stools at the end of the bar and without a command, he slides me a tankard full of ale.
“Sam?” I ask before taking a long drink.
Park grunts, throwing his cleaning rag over his shoulder. “She’s at the inn.” He leans against the bartop. Park’s a tall man, closer to Jarek’s height than my own. His thick, blonde beard is trimmed shorter than usual, matching his neatly cropped hair. Strands of silver woven throughout, more prominent at his temples. “Your mother,” he continues, and my head perks up, “Letty, Eviey, they’re all here. They’re all safe.”
I let out a long breath before I take another drink. The ale isn’t quite what I expected. Notes of cinnamon burst on my tongue, settling warm in my belly. “Any news or movement from Valebridge?” I drop my voice so only Park can hear.
He doesn’t turn, keeping his attention focused on the task at hand, polishing the tankards.
“No,” he whispers. “Everything has been—” He shrugs before setting the tankard down. “Normal.” I nod then take another sip. “I imagine it went well enough with Thaddeus then?”
I polish off the rest of the delicious ale. It’s sweet, a bit tarte. Is it apple? Either way, I know Elora would love it, and the thought turns my stomach sideways. “Thaddeus came around.” I slide my empty tankard to Park. “I need to find Sam and Agnes. Keep your eyes open and your ear to the ground. As soon as you hear something?—”
“I know, Sor,” he says, reaching out to shake my hand.
My shoulders relax as I slide my hand from his firm grip. Park’s been a friend and ally for years. He and his sister Jeanette have been vital in our illegal trades that keep Loxley afloat. I haven’t given him enough credit. A pattern I seem to be repeating lately. Never appreciating those who do so much.
I open my mouth to tell him but before I can he takes a step backward. “Steal from the rich.”
Smiling, I back up as well, inching closer to the door. “Even more from the richer.”