The Dark of Twilight (Twilight Shifters Book 1) (11 page)

Aein nodded.  "Yes. In just a few minutes."  She looked around.  "Where are the keys to the cell?"

Finn scanned the cell.  "You had them."

She shook her head and then looked through the bars.  There they were.  Sitting in the middle of the floor. 

"Oh gods," she said, looking back at the people in the cell with them.  "Oh gods!  The keys are outside the cell!  I left them in the lock and they fell out!"

She looked back over.  The werewolves were beginning to change.  They were writhing upon the floor in agony.  Their fur was falling off.  Their true faces began to emerge once again.

"Peitrav!" shouted one of the women from behind the bars.

"Mother?" he asked, slowly coming to his human self and realizing where he was.  "What are you doing inside the prison?"

At once, all of the people who recognized their loved ones in the pack swarmed against the cages of the door.  Touching each other's hands.  Pressing against one another for that one blessed minute where time overlapped.

Aein shouted, "I need the keys!"  She kept pointing but no one would listen to her.  "Give me the keys!"

And then suddenly the minute was done and the sun was coming over the horizon.  The people around her recoiled back as the inner torment began working its way through them.

"What is going on?" asked Pietrav.

"I need the keys!" shouted Aein desperately.  "I have to get out!  Give me the keys!"

The boy looked around and made a grab for them, but they were accidentally kicked away by another man who was scanning the floor for the very thing Aein needed.

"The keys!  PLEASE!  For the love of the gods!  Hurry!"

Pietrav dived for the key ring and picked it up.  "Which one?" he asked, showing her the heavy ring.

"Just try!  Just keep trying!" said Aein, looking over her shoulder at the people who had been her allies and were now moments away from turning on her.  She looked at Finn, at her dear, sweet Finn, as his eyes began to change from blue to yellow, as his teeth began to elongate, as the soul inside no longer recognized her as anything other than food for his insatiable hunger.

"HURRY!" Aein shouted again, pushing against the bars of the cell as if she somehow could fit through them.

There was a growl behind her and she knew it was too late.  She turned, ready to meet her fate when the lock clicked and the door swung open.  She raced outside, just as the first wolf finished its transformation.  She slammed the door shut behind herself.

Her hands shook as the wolves inside went wild, throwing themselves against the bars as if they might be able to rip them from their joints.

"What is going on?" said a woman striding into the room.

Aein turned and almost wept with gladness.  The tall, dark princess was as lovely as she had been on her wedding day.  She did not show signs of a single injury.  She did not show an indication time had even passed.  "Princess Gisla!  You're alive!"

"Of course I'm alive!" she said.  She looked at the cage full of beasts and gave a low whistle.  "How did you get all of them in there?"

Aein put her hand on the princess's arm.  Gisla recoiled and looked at her in disgust, as if she could not believe someone of Aein's status would dare to touch her.

Aein stopped her.  "Finn is in there," said Aein.

Princess Gisla stepped closer, scanning the rabid faces of the werewolves for the one face she knew.  "Finn?" she whispered.

Aein felt the strangest twinge of jealousy at the way Gisla looked for Finn, the way this betrothed princess sought him out like he meant something more than a soldier should to his liege.  Aein pushed the feelings down, reminding herself that once she thought Lord Arnkell looked at her that way, too.  She was wrong about people.  "I convinced them to lock themselves away when the transformation took place so that you all might be free.  But in return, you must lock yourselves away, because with the dark of twilight, you, too, will be so transformed.  I just need time."

"Time for what?"

"I believe I have found a cure."

"A cure?" asked Princess Gisla, turning away from the cell.

"I found it in a book in the kitchen... only..." Aein stopped, realizing how ridiculous it all sounded.

"Only?"

"I cannot read the writing.  I can only see the pictures.  I tasted these berries and I have not transformed.  I believe that they are responsible for keeping me safe."

Gisla folded her arms.  "Where is this kitchen?"

Aein nodded her head towards the steps.  "That direction."

Gisla began walking off.

"Where are you going?" Aein asked.

"To read this book of yours."

Aein felt so stupid.  Of course Gisla would be able to read.  Aein trotted after her. "It was the mushroom dish that was served at your wedding.  That is what caused all of this."

"Really," said Gisla, musing aloud.  "Who ordered the menu?"

"A friend..." Aein stopped herself.  "A man I once knew.  He was the one.  He made me collect them while I was in the swamp."

Gisla stopped.  "You brought this curse to the stronghold?"

Aein hung her head in shame.  "I did not know.  I thought I was only bringing back a delicacy... not this."

Gisla searched Aein's face for any sign of deceit, any sign that she was speaking falsely.  Whatever she saw seemed to satisfy her.  "Well, then, you now have a duty to bring back the cure."

They arrived in the kitchen.  Little had changed.  Only the stench of death had grown stronger.  Gisla put the back of her hand against her nostrils.  "Today, I shall have to set about disposing of the dead."

"What will you do with them?" asked Aein.

"Burn them.  Throw them in the moat.  I don't know," confessed Gisla.  "Whatever we can do quickly."

"Please," said Aein.  She pointed at the door to the larder.  "There is a man in there.  See that he is dealt with respectfully."

Gisla looked at Aein from the corner of her eyes.  Finally she said, "I will give him the respect that we are able to give any at this time."

It was all that Aein could hope for.  She rushed forward to the book on the counter and opened it up to the picture of the berries.  She shoved the book over to Gisla.  "These.  I think it was these."

Gisla shook her head.  "There isn't much here.  Just recipes for pies and tarts.  It says that it is helpful for swollen joints and gout.  Nothing about preventing someone from turning into a werewolf."

"But perhaps it is only because no one knew before me," said Aein.

"It is a long shot," said Gisla, closing the book with finality.  "But it is the only one that we have.  We should prepare you for your journey."

They climbed back out of the kitchen.  Aein began to understand why Gisla was a princess.  She was able to command people just with the strength of her voice.

"Haul the bodies into the courtyard.  We'll burn them before the pestilence takes us all."

Two servants bowed, fearful, but willing.

"I do not know if we captured all of the wolves," said Aein.  "It was only one group of people and you all were the only ones who came after us.  There must be more people hidden here in the stronghold."  She did not continue on, that those innocent victims who had hid were now the creatures of their own nightmares.

Gisla pointed to two more people.  "You!  Scout for wolves!  Let me know if you see any!"  Shockingly, they obeyed.  Gisla turned to Aein.  "What do you need before you leave?"

Aein thought of all the dangers before her.  "I need provisions.  A horse.  I have a few items from my room I would like to bring."

Gisla nodded.  "Can you get your things by yourself?"

Fear pounded in Aein's heart as she looked up the steps, up to the rooms that Gisla was asking her to travel alone.  But she was a warrior.  She had signed on to fight and defend the stronghold and that was what she would do.  "Of course.  If you don't see me in the next hour, send an armed party up."

Gisla gripped Aein's arm bracingly, this time the touch was welcome as these two realized how much was at stake.  Gisla strode off into the courtyard, her mane of black hair flying behind her.

Aein looked up the stairs.  There was no putting this off.  She made her way into the garrison.  The beds had been ripped to shreds.  Furniture had been upended.  She sat for just a moment, looking at the destruction.  How quickly the world changed, she realized. 

Aein went over to her footlocker and turned it over so that she could open the lid.  She found her saddlebags.  They were empty, waiting to be filled with food and skins of water.  She took her blanket and rolled a change of clothes inside it.  She removed her fancy dress armor.  The bright green and yellow paint was now scarred, showing the red leather beneath.  She put on her old leathers, the ones used to survive.  Where she was going, she needed nothing else.

She paused, filled with a sense that she would not ever come back to this room again, that what she had here was gone and would never return.  Lord Arnkell's stronghold had fallen.

She made her way into the courtyard and a horse was waiting.  There was only a single stable hand.  The horse was skittish and kept trying to prance away.  No doubt his nerves were frayed by all of the carnivores in the stronghold.

Gisla came in.  Her sword was wet with red.

"What happened?" asked Aein.

"We found more.  They had joined up into a pack.  Fortunately, we were able to corral them downstairs and lock them in a cell near the other dogs.  Hopefully someone will explain to them what is going on when the sun rises."

"Thank you for the horse," said Aein, knowing how valuable this animal was.

"The wolves don't seem to have a taste for horseflesh.  Only human flesh.  The entire stable was completely untouched."

"Really?" asked Aein, smoothing the horse's mane and running her hands along his neck.

"I would have not believed it if I had not seen it with my own eyes," said Gisla.

Aein breathed deeply, getting one last look of the stronghold.  She prayed to the gods she would see it again.  "I should go."

Gisla grabbed Aein's shin and lifted her into the saddle.  "Hurry.  And hurry back.  I shall look forward to eating these berries you speak of."

Suddenly, there was the sound of baying coming from one of the doorways.  Gisla's face tensed as her fighting spirit took over.  "Oh gods.  The cell didn't hold.  They are coming!"  Gisla slapped the horse on the rump and he took off before Aein could gather up the reins and calm him.  "Run!  Get out of here!" Gisla cried, chasing Aein from the courtyard.

The doors were opened for Aein as her steed flew out.  She waited to hear the sound of the gates clanging down behind her, but it did not happen.  She turned back.  There was a single werewolf hot on her heels.  She spurred her horse on.  For now, her horse could run faster than any wolf.  But not for long.  She knew her horse would tire, and then what?  She hoped that he would be able to keep pace at least until the sunset.  If she could only make it to the sunset, they would be safe once again.  But there were many, many hours to go, and the miles to the swamp stretched before her.  She looked over her shoulder.  The wolf was far behind her now, but he was coming.  She knew he was coming, and nothing would stop him except the dark.

A
ein rode all day, pausing to walk her horse for only as long as it took for him to recover, and then she pushed him again.  No matter how fast they went, the wolf tracked her, a distant spot on the horizon.  Never wavering, never pausing, he just continued his inexorable march, stalking her no matter how far away she tried to get.

There was no way she could possibly continue at this pace, she realized.  Not if she wished to keep her horse alive to the border.  And she had to keep her horse alive to the border.

What she needed was to be able to reason with the werewolf, which meant waiting for nightfall.  Perhaps if she stopped now, she thought, she could wait until he turned, and then convince whomever it was to wait in that spot until she got a head start.  Convince him to always stay behind as long as he was in human form for the survival of them both.

She slowed her horse and looked for a defensible position.  She needed something where she would be safe and where she would not have to harm this wolf.  Finally, as she entered a grove of trees, she found one that had a branch only accessible if she stood on her horse's saddle.  The trunk was straight and true.  Surely the wolf would not be able to climb it to get to her this time.

She patted her horse.  "I hope with all my heart that Gisla was telling the truth about the wolves' lack of interest in you."

She stopped the horse beneath the tree.  She could not afford to lose her belongings if the horse was scared off.  She could not afford to leave them on the ground for the werewolf to tear apart.  So, carefully, piece by piece, she threw her saddlebag and bedroll over the branch.  She reached and pulled herself up.

The wolf was upon her entirely too fast.  It seemed like less than a half hour had passed, but there he was.  He circled the base of the tree, jumping up the trunk to get at her.

"I am too far up," she said to him.  "So you might as well sit and wait for me to come down."

The wolf didn't seem to be of that mind at all.  Like a rabid animal, he kept trying to get at her, again and again.  His paws left huge gashes in the bark.

Aein opened up her saddlebag to see what had been packed for her.  There was some hard meat and cheese.  Some old bread from days before.  As she pulled the items out, her fingers brushed against what felt like a pebble.  She grabbed it with two fingers to throw it away, but she paused before chucking it.

She felt herself wobble on the branch.  It was a dried berry.  She remembered that she had gathered them and eaten them there in the swamp.  She must have missed one and it had transformed from a juicy berry into the petrified lump now in her hand.

She looked down at the wolf.  Could she try and feed it to him to see what happened?  Would it do something?  Or worse, what if it didn't?

The wolf's teeth were snarling and snapping at her.  She held her breath, trying to feel if there was any sort of rhythm to his attack, some way of knowing where his mouth might be.