CYRAN'Why aren't you doing the healing?'I curse loudly, as I leap at the sound of Gylen's voice. Or it's his breath on my neck, I don't know which. 'Would you all stop doing that?' He raises a brow. 'Doing what?' 'Sneaking up on people like that, it's not healthy'. He smirks. 'So you're scared'. 'Who wouldn't be, winter wolves just attacked the village'. The habitual frown replaces his smile as he folds his arms. 'Yes, I suppose so'.I follow his glance back to the bed in the middle of the hall, where Saelyna has her hands on Pedran's shoulder. Blue light glows now and then when she moves, and the girls are in a sort of huddle around them. Save for Keilen, and the one called Charlin. They both sit opposite each other on the far side of the room, totally ignoring the other.Just then, the door bursts open and Veesa strolls in, the older wolvens following behind her. Her white hair streams behind her, soiled here and there with blood that I'm sure isn't hers; her face has a cut or two
CAIVANI've never felt more grateful for the blast of cool air on my face when I step outside, though I might have to worry about the clouds gathering overhead. There is no wolf around, no immediate threat. So I head for the one place I might actually get more solitude.I don't remain alone for long. Someone approaches, out of sight and as quiet as wolven can be. I don't need to smell him to know it's Gylen. A sight for sore eyes.He pauses at the mouth of the "cave", squinting into the darkness. 'I'm not a Leftyde wight, if that's what bothers you', I call out and he grins. 'I suppose not', he says and climbs over a rock to get to where I sit in the corner, 'I hope to hide out here awhile, if it's okay with you. I can't go on a bloody hunt with Argell tonight'.He's bare, save for a knicker that looks like it came off anyone, and looks way too tight on him. Claw marks line his torso here and there, but I can tell they're already healing as he sits next to me, heaving a breath. 'How a
CYRAN'How are you feeling?'Saelyna has a smile on her face, but it does not disguise the lines under her eyes. Still playing the elder one. 'I feel tired. We both do', I say. She waves a hand and sits next to me on the bed. 'I could do with a nap, to be honest', she whispers. 'Not with those cursed beasts still roving the area', I tell her. Just minutes ago, Argell took Farden, Gylen and Charlin with him to scout the village and the forests. 'Are you worried for Gylen?' she asks, the barest hint of a smile perched on her lips. I fight the heat building in my cheeks. 'Don't be absurd', I scoff, 'It's nothing'. 'Oh?' 'It's a fling…more or less'. I'm not even sure what it is. Relationships have never been my thing; too much to commit, to give, to lose. With Gylen, though, it's kind of different. I'm just not ready to admit it yet.I turn my attention back to Veesa and Constance. I recognize her now as the white-robed assistant I had seen with the claws, when Saelyna had been taken with
RONNAllos circles back to me, his face scrunched up at the sight of guts at my feet. 'You're gonna clean that?' he says. 'That's Sirgil', I reply, recalling the brutal bout the duo had minutes ago. The winter creature had certainly been a handful, but the thing with Sirgil is his craftiness, his stealth. It was relatively easy to avoid his opponent's blow and slash at his trunk and sternum. I hadn't been there, but it plays out in my head from his memory.'You bonded with one of the wolves'. It sounds more like an accusation than a question and I bristle at his tone. 'I did what I had to do', I snap. He nods quietly with an askant look. 'Sure you did'. He turns then, without catching glimpse of the evil look I throw his way. 'So what now?'As if to answer his question, a wolf with white fur, way larger than the others, streaks out from the undergrowth. I barely have time to react; Allos is slower. The winter wolf buries his claws in his chest, snarling as he does it.Then it turns an
CYRAN‘So. You’re the Bekkis twins everyone’s yapping about, eh?’ I exchange a confused glance with Saelyna. ‘”Everyone”? Who’s “Everyone”?’ she asks. ‘Well of course, the Network’. He shifts his glance from me to her and back again, reading our stares. ‘Oh. You don’t know’. ‘They talked about it earlier this evening’, Saelyna says, ‘Who are they?’ Quain puffs out his lips but he doesn’t wince from the scald like he does before I healed him. ‘Like the name suggests, we are a chain of folks with linked interests scattered over Quindar, though, we’re mostly south, and “headquarters” is in Tussel’. ‘How long? How long has the Network existed?’ Saelyna asks. ‘Since the rebellion. Still made up of wolvens and elves, but it’s not just to make a separate nation anymore. No, they’re too angry for that now’.I already know their agenda even without Quain saying it. I could see it in the green flash of Veesa’s eyes and the way Jenna banged the table hours ago in Argell’s hut. Quindar must be ta
RONNThe raveners have little in the way of kit. Nothing much to see; bags of clothes, fresh kill of deer and (surprisingly) a gazen, maps and the likes of traveling folk.It puzzles me still: how winter wolves would be this coordinated and organized. Striking without taking captives or loot. I’m not one for riddles, though. Besides, I’m grateful to them, though. The necessary distraction.The last tent Is larger than the others and has an odd smell of cheese and mothballs. I take it to be the captain’s quarters, the rather large white one that Caivan had chosen to spare. The one that killed Allos. I push his sneering face from my mind as my eyes fall on a long, silver coat laid out on a small box. ‘It fits’, Sirgil says, his yellow eyes gleaming in the darkness. ‘I’ll take your word for it’, I say and slip into the coat. Without second thought, I snatch the box as well.When I step outside, I half expect to see white shapes and fangs and more fighting. But there’s only Caivan, the ma
SAELYNAThe door opens and Quain walks out bleary-eyed, dark hair matted to one side of his face, covering the scar. He isn’t wearing the dirty brown coat he had on earlier, he wears a white shirt; on closer look, I recognize it’s Cyran’s.He releases a satisfactory sigh when a slight gust of breeze blows our way. I can guess at his thoughts; Quain lived in his family house on the hill overlooking the miller’s, and we used to spend afternoons on his toak tree in the fall, looking out over the northern plains and the kingsroad that we dreamed of traveling on one day, if we were to go to Qarax.That was a lifetime ago.‘Can’t sleep?’ I ask. He opens his eyes then, as if just recognizing my presence and gives me a wistful smile. ‘No’. He leans in and adds, ‘It’s just that your brother is a really good singer’. I chuckle at his sarcasm. The complete opposite in fact. ‘Sorry. Cyran snores like his life depends on it. I should know, I’ve lived with him all of my life’. ‘Oof. Talk about puni
SAELYNA I push myself to my feet, trying to find some chunk, some sort of thread of a lie in what Quain says. ‘I don’t believe you. I don’t’. I see their faces in the hut again, the inquisitive stare Caivan and Veesa shared, the way Cyran looked properly befuddled. It must be wrong. It all is. ‘How would you know, we were kids when it all happened’, I say. He stands up as well. ‘Yes we were. But there were others, remember?’ ‘How did you know, Quain?! Why did Veesa never tell me? What…what?’ I can’t think. My thoughts scatter over my brain incoherently, memories and speculations; I drop to the rock with the heaviness of it all. Quain squats in front of me, his face level with mine. I focus on the lines etched into the untouched side of his face, on the black hair and black eyes that seem to hold so so many secrets. ‘Obviously, this wasn’t how you were supposed to find out. I doubt Veesa even wanted you to know at all….I couldn’t tell you everything while she was there, I couldn’t be