Cry of the Ghost Wolf: Neverwinter NiChosen of Nendawen, Book III (46 page)

“Hratt has one of your knives.”

“And … and I need to say farewell to my home.”

“You sound like you aren’t coming back.”

Hweilan shrugged. “The gods know. Not me.”

Darric cleared his throat and said, “And then?”

Hweilan turned toward the castle, thrusting out of the northern horizon. She could not say this while looking at
him. “I suggest you search the village and fortress. You’ll find shovels to bury our dead—or I will help you place them in my family’s tombs. Then, find what supplies you can and leave. It will not be long before Nar and every mountain clan will be eager to claim Highwatch as their own. You should be long gone by then.”

“Gone?” said Darric. “To where? The six of us through the Gap? We’ll never make it. Not even with you. Not with Maaqua roused and watching for us.”

“I’m not going with you.”

“What?” Darric grabbed her arm, and she heard the hurt in his voice.

She pulled away and put her back to him. “I will tell you of paths northward—you should avoid all routes to the south. It will take a long time, but if you go around the mountains and watch every step, you might make it back into Damara before winter. Especially if we can find you some horses.”

“But … but where will you go?”

“At first?” said Hweilan. “I’ll go east. There’s someone I have to find.”

“Someone?”

She turned back to him and was surprised at what she saw. She’d thought to find a look of hurt on his face to match the pain in his voice. But he looked grim, and for just a moment she saw a bit of her father and Uncle Soran in him. They were of the same people, she thought, as I was. Once.

“My grandfather,” she said. “My mother’s father. I think he can help me.”

“How?” said Darric.

“The Hunter …” Hweilan’s voice broke.

“Nendawen?” said Darric. “I thought he was … dead. We saw …”

“Nendawen was not
the
Hunter. Only the vessel. And now …”

“Now it’s you,” said Darric, understanding in his voice.

Hweilan nodded. “Most times, I will be … me, I think. I hope. But when the full moon rises …”

“You will hunt,” said Darric.

She nodded. “Jagun Ghen … is gone. To the Abyss. But many of his ilk escaped. I’m the only one who knows how to stop them. I can’t leave them to roam the world. It would be …”

“Wrong,” said Darric. She heard a hint of pride in his voice. “It would be a sin, Hweilan. And you know it.”

She held his gaze but said nothing.

“I will go with you.”

“No,” said Hweilan. “It’s not safe.
You
won’t be safe. Not with me, not at the full moon.”

Darric smiled. “But you—
he
didn’t kill us last night. Not after he found Flet to feed to Uncle. He could have. He certainly didn’t hesitate to kill every Razor Heart in the fortress. But he didn’t. Perhaps he is not as powerful as you think. He is part of you, you say. Perhaps you are part of him as well, now?”

Hweilan opened her mouth to argue, but then Gleed’s words came to her again—
There’s something about you that even the Master had not planned on
.

And she knew what that was now, or at least a part of it.
Suffice to say that my father was … not of this world
.

Whatever Jalan’s father was, that blood ran in her as well. She would have to ask Gleed about it someday.

“The others will need your help getting to Damara,” she said, but even she heard the weakness in her argument.

“Mandan will not go,” said Darric. “I know it, as do you. And Urlun will follow him. Buureg swore to protect the boy’s family, and I think he’ll keep that promise. And Hratt’s no fool. He knows if he goes home, he’s dead. As for Jaden? He may well leave off with the first caravan we run into, but until then, I think we are stuck with him.”

“Your family—”

“My father has other sons.”

“You are his heir.”

“I don’t want his lands or his titles.”

“Family is more than that. You have a responsibility—”

Darric grabbed her, one arm round her shoulders, one encircling her waist, and kissed her. She let herself return it, just for a moment, then pushed her face away.

“Stop it.”

She looked to the wolf, hoping he’d come snarling to her rescue. But he merely tilted his head, then turned and walked away. Darric’s arms were still around her. She planted both her hands on his chest and pushed.

“Let me go now, or you’re going in the well.”

He held her a moment, staring at her eye to eye, then released her and took a step back.

“You spoke truly, Hweilan. I do have a responsibility. To you. I love you, and whether you feel the same way or not, I won’t forsake you.”

Darric stared at her, his jaw working, waiting.

When no response came, he said, “And do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Feel … anything. For me?”

She wanted to escape, but that was the coward’s way. So she returned his gaze. “I don’t know, Darric. Right now … I only feel …” She searched for the word. There was only one. “Tired.”

A faint smile broke on Darric’s face, then disappeared. Hweilan almost missed it.

“It’s a lonely road, Hweilan. Do you want to walk it by yourself?”

He stepped forward, slowly this time, and held her. She buried her face in him.

“No.”