39. Runa
Runa
I’ve ridden this train before. When we visited the human city.
Back then, the scenery looked different.
Ever since the volcano scorched the land separating us from the Fireborns and the Human Alliance, the territory was renamed the Midlands.
Outcasts and outlaws live there now. Misfits. I wish I could move to the Midlands.
I wish the Peacebroker would throw me out the window. I would rather he dump me out of a moving train than keep me caged beside his left knee-high boot like some badly behaved dog. Fuck him.
I glare and growl at him.
A Shackler zaps me with a Taser.
I yelp and show them my wolf teeth, but I don’t growl anymore. They already fried too much of my fur. I lie down and cover my muzzle with my paws so I don’t inhale the stench of burning fur.
“I would let you out of the cage, but I’m afraid you might bite me,” the Peacebroker says, amused.
A growl rises, but I squash it. His days are numbered.
I’ll rip out his throat if it’s the last thing I do.
His men shot at my mother, and I have no idea if she survived.
My dad attacked them right after that. While they dragged me out, our pack rushed into the room and hopefully managed to get my sister out of there.
I can’t bear the thought of Maren being hurt. Or worse.
A crying wolf is a sad creature. I whine in sorrow.
“What was that?” the Peacebroker asks. When I ignore him, he offers me a piece of seared beef from his plate.
It smells good. I lick the steak, eyeing his fingers. Pretending the bars prevent me from grabbing the steak, I retreat a little. His hand follows. Got you.
I snap my jaws, but he quickly pulls back. My teeth snap on air.
A Taser zaps my side.
I yelp, then growl, biting the cage bars. Let me out so I can tear into you, bitch.
They caged me because they’re afraid I’ll bite them, in which case they’ll knock me out. And I don’t believe they want to do that. They need me. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t have taken me. They could’ve killed me by now.
Little do they know, they could’ve avoided the mayhem with my pack. The moment my father or my brother learned that I showed Ash a way out, my dad, if he was feeling merciful, would’ve kicked me out of the pack. I would have been forced into the Midlands.
I imagine I would have traveled to Fireborn territory to beg Ash to let me into his pack. Even if I managed to survive the Midlands, I wouldn’t have ended up on great terms with Ash. He didn’t appreciate being treated as a service male.
Perhaps it’s better I spend some time with the humans in their testing labs or prisons. Who knows where they’re taking me?
I look at the Peacebroker, who sips his red wine from a plastic cup.
My whining gets his attention, and he raises an eyebrow. “Are you ready to behave?”
I nod. Good Moon, I hate him. The synthetic fabric of his uniform, combined with the alchemy on his fingers, smells like he soiled the earth and then poured bleach over it. Soiled earth beneath our paws smells great to a wolf, but alchemy makes me nauseated.
He opens the cage door.
“The wolf should remain caged during transport,” a Shackler with short blond hair and a mustache says. He aims a rifle at me.
“She’ll behave,” the Peacebroker says. “Won’t you, pup?”
I don’t dignify that with an answer, but come out of the cage, and shift. I finger comb my hair, aware that the men in the room are staring at my nudity. I don’t cover up or shy away. Right now, they’re wary of me, scared of the wolf that I am. Shyness invites attention I don’t want.
In my female bipedal form, I appear less frightening to them.
The Peacebroker motions with his hand, and a man at the door returns with a plain white linen dress. I put it on and sit opposite the Peacebroker.
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
Starving. But I’d rather starve than accept food from this man.
“Why did you shoot my mother? She’s harmless.
” A neglected, harmless woman who likes to drink too much and loves her kids.
That is all that will be said about her.
Nothing wrong with that. I continue because I’m so angry with this man.
“Soren will come for you. You can say goodbye to your alliance with the Stormcrest pack.”
The Peacebroker wipes his mouth and drops the napkin on the plate.
He drinks out of a plastic cup and eats without utensils.
Someone served him steak that’s already been cut into bite-sized pieces.
I wonder if this is how he normally eats, or if it’s some fear-driven theory they’ve developed regarding werewolves.
I don’t need metal objects to kill him. I have my teeth.
“Maybe your father asked me to shoot her,” the man says.
“That’s a lie.”
“He’s had countless affairs. Maybe one of the women finally convinced him to get rid of your mother.”
“He would never hurt her.”
“Yet that’s what he did.”
“Your men shot her.”
“That’s not what happened.” He smirks. “In my report”—he lifts a piece of paper—“it says she shifted and attacked one of my men. Self-defense.”
“Liar!” I shout. “You can’t make things up.
She walked into the room and your men shot her.
Look at them.” I point at the three men with their rifles trained on me.
“They’re terrified.” I tap my nose. “I can smell their fear. The rifles are pointed at me because you’re afraid.
” I cross my arms over my chest. “Werewolves don’t go around biting people. You came into our home with armed men.”
“You’re a wolf. Your humanoid form is an illusion created to lure us into your trap.”
“I’m not a spider, idiot. There are no traps. Wolves hunt. They don’t wait in hiding until you cross their path. We go after our prey. We go after what we want. This is how I know Soren will come for you.”
“Are you saying I should kill him?”
“I’m saying you should watch your back.”
“What about Ash Fireborn?”
“I don’t know him well enough to know that.” I only know how I feel about him, and this horrible man will never hear that from me.
I look out the window. The Midlands used to be one of the most picturesque landscapes in the world, peppered with small villages nestled between rolling hills and mountains.
When the humans designed the train routes, they built them through this region on purpose because the scenery’s beauty would attract tourists.
But after the volcano wiped out all the vegetation and the wars removed the sense of security, the train lost its appeal. It’s now used mainly by the military for transporting supplies. It’s the fastest way to get to Stormcrest from the human territories.
After what happened today, the train might be retired for good.
“You’re lying,” he says.
“I’m not.”
He strikes my cheek. The slap sends me flying across the room. I bang my head against the window on the other side of the cabin and slide down like an ice-cream cone. Darkness swims before my eyes. Warm blood trails down my cheek. I wipe it away and blink to clear my head.
“You’re taking werewolf enhancement drugs, I see.” I grew up around Regulators, and none of them were this fast or strong.
“If you tell me about Ash Fireborn, I’ll tell you where I’m taking you.”
“I have nothing to say about the Fireborn Alpha.”
“You’d better, because I have your brother.”
“On the train with me?” When he doesn’t answer, I ask, “What about Maren?”
“I have her too.”
I sniff out a lie. I’ve never been able to sniff out lies, but for some reason, I can now. “Maren will come for me.”
“How about Ash?”
I shrug. The wound on my temple won’t close. I press my hand over it and remain by the window. I think my head might’ve cracked the glass, which means if I’m quick, I could shatter it before jumping out.
The train travels about two hundred miles per hour. Jumping out would have to be perfectly timed so that my landing is softened by the grass and not by scorched earth. This means I would have to wait until the Midlands end and human territory begins. How far from there to Ash’s territory?
On the map, it doesn’t look that far, but I bet it’s at least a few days’ worth of running. It matters not. I have to escape. In the human city, it would be much harder for me to run.
“What is your relationship with the Fireborn Alpha?” he asks.
“We don’t have one.” I pinch my lips and grind my teeth when I want to cry.
“How did he explain your resistance to his fire?”
“He doesn’t lose sleep over it.”
The man smiles. “If you were truly his enemy, you wouldn’t be breathing. It’s uncharacteristic of him to leave a wolf alive after finding out she survived the fire. Unless he likes you.”
“You’re familiar with his character?”
“Extensively.”
I snort. “I doubt that very much. Ash Fireborn strikes me as a private person.”
“You’re his enemy’s daughter. The only person ever recorded to survive elemental fire. He chose to keep you alive. Why?”
“You’re his enemy.” Ash is right. Peacebrokers and humans like him are the real enemy. I wonder how my father will handle our newfound situation. Our alliance with the alchemists is surely over. We’ll join the other two packs, won’t we?
“We just want to be sure that elemental werewolves don’t destroy the planet.”
“Keep telling yourself that killing the werewolves is saving the earth.”
A rumbling noise sounds in the distance. My instincts prickle. The train is moving toward the noise, and the vibrations buzz over my body. The humans must not be able to hear or sense it yet, because if they could, they’d investigate.
I wait.
I see the moment they hear it. Alarmed, the three armed men look around.
The rumble gets louder, and the train shakes.
The Peacebroker’s plate bounces all over the table until it crashes to the ground.
One of the shards glides over the floor and hits my foot.
I step on it and bring my foot closer to my body, then sneak my hand under it to grab the shard.
“Drop it,” the soldier says, pressing the barrel of his rifle to my head. One silver bullet at this distance will kill me.
The train rocks, screeching over the tracks. I glance at the window above my head. There’s a crack in it. The soldiers are fighting to stay on their feet in the swaying train car. This is my only chance.
“Go see what’s happening,” the Peacebroker orders.
One of the men grabs the door handle, but jumps away, shaking his hand. “It’s hot,” he says. “What the hell?” The door handle bends and melts away.
The Peacebroker jumps out of his seat. “What are you staring at? Find him! Find him and kill him!”
The door flies off the hinges. Hands reach for the soldier’s head and twist. Left, right, left again. A strangled battle cry rips through the cabin, and the Shackler’s body crumples.
Ash strides into the cabin, tucking the Shackler’s head under his armpit.