Blood for Wolves (7 page)

“Is that them?” I asked quietly.

“It is indeed.”

“So how do we get in there?”

“Easy. We ask.”

I made a noise of protest, but he’d
already slipped from my grasp and sauntered up to the man, who was as least a
foot taller than him.

“Good day to you, sir,” Wolf said
with an elaborate bow. “My mistress wishes to see what you have to offer inside
your fine tent.”

The Bouncer-Genie said nothing. He
gazed from Wolf to me to Wolf again. I tried to look more regal and less
worried out of my skin.

“We’ve nothing to sell.”

Damn it,
I thought. But Wolf
didn’t let up.

“A shame, for she has some lovely,
amazing things to trade.”

“Does she now?”

“Oh indeed.” Behind his back he
gestured for me to come up next to him.

I tossed my hair back. I’d acted
once in eighth grade; I could come up with something. I walked up beside Wolf
and gave the man the best impassive stare I could muster.

“Tell me sir, have you ever seen a
stick that lights itself afire?”

If anything, Wolf sure was a smooth
talker when it came to getting things his way.

“I have not. Is she a witch?”

“Only the finest you’ve ever seen.”

Bouncer-Genie eyed me. “Why have I
not seen your face before?”

I sneered.
I’m a witch, a
powerful witch. And powerful witches don’t take shit from guys like him.
“Do
you think that I flaunt myself? That I want all my special secrets to be known
to the entire Kingdom?”

I surprised myself with how bitchy
I sounded, and just managed to catch myself before saying, “And who are you to
judge so quickly?” because I really had no clue who the hell this guy actually
was. Even Wolf looked surprised, gaping at me for a few seconds before
recovering.

“Perhaps my lady would be good
enough to give you a demonstration of her wares so you can see for yourself,”
he told Bouncer-Genie, who still wasn’t impressed.

“Fine,” I said, acting pissed. I
reached up to search through the top part of my daypack for the matches. “Though
I see no reason why I should waste perfectly good magic on such nonsense. And
out in the open too.”

I picked a match from the small
plastic container and struck it against the side. Immediately it flared to
life, burning steadily in front of us. The man’s eyes went wide and he bowed
slightly.

“My apologies to you my lady. I did
not realize. Your appearance is nothing like a witch.” He stepped aside and
held open the tent flap for us.

“Yes, well,” I blew out the match,
dropped it on the ground, and smashed it thoroughly into the dirt with my boot,
“appearances can be deceiving. Keep that in mind next time.” I poked Wolf in
the chest. “Remain here. I see if anything must be done, I must be the one to
do it.”

I stared at him hard, trying to
convey the concept that if Marianne saw him, she would just freak out again. He
caught the hint.

“Indeed, my mistress.” He took up
my hand, kissed it, and backed off a few steps.

I strode into the tent. I tried not
to let my surprise show—the tent was bigger on the inside. A row of people
ranging in age from perhaps six to thirty lined the edge of the tent. They each
wore manacles on their hands, but weren’t chained individually. Instead, a
single chain began on one side of the tent and wound its way through links on
each manacle, chaining them all together without the need for dozens of keys. They
were relatively clean and maybe even well fed. No one looked sick or
malnourished.

At least they took good care of
their livestock.

Then I spotted Marianne, her face
streaked with dried tears, between a cocoa-skinned woman and a tired looking
man. She looked up and saw me, her eyes growing wide. I gave her a hard look.
Don’t
get excited. Don’t act like you know me.
Luckily Marianne was a smart girl.
She bit her lip and tried to look elsewhere. But her feet were bare and her
toes wiggled excitedly.

A man flanked by two others sat at
a table, a sheet of paper and a fountain pen set before him. His belly bulged
out over his pants in a rotund stomach covered with shining purple and green
striped fabric. He looked like a melon, but a wealthy one. Rings set with
sparkling jewels practically covered his fingers. His bald head gleamed in the
dim light. I guessed the slave trade was good business. He smiled pleasantly,
as if he weren’t surrounded by a line of depressed people in chains. Or maybe
that was why he smiled so happily.

The two men around him were
scarier, unsmiling and openly displaying wide scimitars at their waists. Both of
them looked like the Bouncer-Genie.

“Good day to you. I am Joran,
finest flesh trader you’ll ever buy from. I’m always so pleased to receive new
customers,” he said, sounding genuinely delighted. “Barra was truly impressed
with what you have to offer.”

Did he mean the guy at the front? How
did he know that? The thought was unsettling.

“So.” Joran folded his hands. “What
is it that you are interested in?”

I gazed around the row of faces,
pretending to survey what he had in stock.

“Is this all you have?” I asked, as
though slightly unimpressed with what I saw.

“For now, yes.”

“Mmm.” I strolled around the tent,
wishing I could free all of them. They looked so tired and worn down. My heart
sank for them, but I did what I could to keep it from showing. Finally I
stopped in front of Marianne.

“Lovely young girl.” I toyed with
her now limp curls. “Such golden hair.”

Joran raised an eyebrow. “Golden?”

Damn, did they not have gold here? “Hair
that shines like the rays of the sun.”

“Ah, I see,” Joran said, toying
with the fountain pen. “Yes, we acquired her just yesterday. She may be a bit
wild though. Apparently she was traipsing through giant territory.”

Yeah, because of me. “Well, that’s
no matter. I have very specific tastes.”

Joran chuckled. “Doesn’t everyone.”

“What would you have for this one?”
Hot damn, I was doing a good job at this role.

“The young ones are always
difficult to price,” Joran said, standing up and strolling over to her. His
keys jingled on his belt. One of them was bigger than the rest.

I really hoped he wasn’t going to
start haggling. I hated haggling. I didn’t even really like shopping all that
much. I go in, buy what I want, and leave.

“How about twenty of those fire
sticks you have?” Joran asked, settling his hand on Marianne’s head. She
squirmed a little under his touch, but didn’t move away.

Yep. We were haggling. “No. I know
you only paid those giants six cows. So my offer is six.”

Joran’s eyes went wide for a second
before he recovered from my would-be all-knowing witch power. “Fifteen.”

“Nine.”

“Ten.”

“Deal.” I brought out the matches
again and counted out ten of them while Joran bent to remove the manacles
Marianne’s hands and feet. I paused for a moment as a strange sensation crept
over me. I looked around. What
was
that?

Then Wolf burst into the tent, and
all hell broke loose.

Marianne’s eyes went wide and she
screamed, “Wolf!” while scrambling back into the side of the tent. Joran swung
around, his face a mix of shock and anger.

“No, no,” I yelled, hoping to calm
her down and waving Wolf away, but he grabbed my shoulder.

“Something is coming.”

“
Wolf!
” Marianne screamed.

“Kill him!” Joran yelled.

I gasped, almost more astonished by
Joran’s belief in a slave rather than his intent to kill us.

The two bodyguards immediately
advanced, their scimitars already out and pointed at Wolf. Behind us, Barra
charged into the tent, his own sword drawn. Everything seemed to go by in a
blur.

I surprised the men by swinging my
daypack into one of the bodyguard’s faces, knocking him to the floor. Wolf took
on the other one, snarling and dodging his blade. He knocked away the sword and
charged the man, crashing into his chest and knocking him down. Barra lingered
for a moment, unsure of who to attack, me or Wolf, before choosing Wolf and
dashed over to find the perfect time to strike. The people in the tent screamed
and cried, trying to clear out of the way of the fight as the two rolled over
the floor.

I elbowed my bodyguard in the face,
stunning him long enough to grab his sword. Wolf pushed away his opponent long
enough to kick out Barra’s knee. Barra went down, shouting in pain. An idea hit
me and I went after Joran, who forgot where his table was and fell over it,
crashing to the ground. Immediately I stood over him, sword at his throat.

“Keys,” I yelled over Wolf’s snarls
and the people’s shrieks. “Now!”

He unhooked them from his belt, and
I snatched them up. I ran for the rock the chain was anchored to, but Barra
grabbed my ankle. I twisted and fell, the keys skidding across the ground. He
cut his sword down at me, but I scrambled out of the way, pushing myself up
enough to jab back at him. We both stared at each other in surprise at the
blade puncturing his chest. A dark red stain bloomed on his shirt and he
slumped back, dead. I stared at him a few seconds more before scrabbling over
the ground, grabbing up the keys, and reaching the rock.

I tried the biggest key, praying it
was that size to distinguish it quickly from the others. I jammed it into the
heavy lock and turned. But the lock was old—Joran must have spent more money on
his rings than new locks. Behind me a man shouted—one of the bodyguards. I
looked over my shoulder in time to see him swinging his scimitar down at me. Cornered,
nowhere to go, I screamed. Suddenly Wolf was there. A splash of blood hit the
dirt floor, and then Wolf and the bodyguard went at each other with blades.

“Hurry!” Wolf yelled to me.

I wrestled with the lock, and then
it snapped open and the chain fell free.

“Go!” I shouted to the people. “Go.
You’re free!”

The slaves pulled the chain through
their manacles, one by one running out the front or back of the tent, wild and
yelling. Another bizarre feeling yanked at me, demanding my attention. I spun
around. Joran stood near the center of the tent, as still as a statue and a
talisman in his hand glowing.

I didn’t know if that meant he was
a wizard, or if he’d just been traded a magic trinket, but it couldn’t be good,
whatever it was. I threw the keys at him, hitting him square in the face. Joran
flailed in surprise before tripping over his own feet and falling on his back
once more. Then the first bodyguard Wolf had tackled started to get up. I sat
frozen for several seconds. I couldn’t kill anyone again, and the slaves
weren’t interested in helping. We needed something to distract everyone enough
to get out.

“Wolf—the tent pole!”

Wolf pushed his opponent into the
side of the tent where a pack of slaves pushed him again so he tripped in an
almost comedic way and hit the ground. Wolf didn’t need to be told twice and
ran at the pole, hitting it with all his might in his shoulder. For a few
agonizing seconds nothing happened. Then it cracked loudly amidst the chaos of
the tent, and then snapped.

Just before the fabric of the tent
fell around us, I caught the astonished looks of the half-dozen people before
me. I knew exactly what they meant.

A wolf had just obeyed a human.

Then the world went orange and
yellow, billowing amidst the air pockets around us. I spotted a small figure in
blue dart towards an opening.

“Marianne!”

Suddenly Wolf was at my side again,
dragging me towards the opening. We emerged and almost ran smack into the jaws
of a roaring beast. It stood on two legs that were bent like a dog’s and a
sweeping tail bristled behind it. Its grasping hands were equipped with wicked
claws and its entire body was covered in slate gray fur. But the roar came from
the mouth of a wolf. Except it wasn’t a wolf. It was too big with ears far too
long and pointed and teeth that were razor sharp. This was the creature from
children’s nightmares. This was a true werewolf.

The strange sensation roiled
through me again. I wasn’t just looking at the creature, I
felt
it.
People yelled and ran in all directions like chickens with missing heads.
Marianne fainted dead away. Before I could do a thing the werewolf scooped her
up, shoved her into its mouth, and swallowed. It was then I realized the
creature wasn’t real. I could see
though
it—I could see Marianne curled
up inside of it, surrounded by a haze of gray. The nightmare wolf launched
itself down the road, leaving a faint trail of gray smoke behind it.

“Marianne!” I screamed and ran
after the thing. I pumped my legs hard, not knowing if Wolf was behind me or
not, knowing I couldn’t catch up to the thing, whatever it was, but I had to
try.

Finally the creature was too far
down the path, and then disappeared altogether. I couldn’t run anymore. I
slowed, eventually stopping and settling my hands on my head as I sucked in
deep breaths of air. I turned. Wolf walked toward me, breathing hard as well,
but not as hard as me.

“What the hell?” I managed to huff.
One question that pretty much handled it all.

“I smelled it coming,” he said. “I
didn’t know what it was, but I knew it was bad.”

So did I.
The thought
practically popped into my head. Except it was true. I kept getting strange
feelings in this place, centered on… I hesitated at the thought.
Magic
. Something
important was happening around here, and it all had to do with Marianne. People
didn’t just send demonic beasts out to kidnap children. Especially not at such
convenient times.

“Someone knew she was there,” I
panted. “Someone really wants that kid.”