Elzada caught herself thinking that she loves cubs. It hardly mattered if cubs belonged to normies or new breeds; all cubs, no matter their origin, were awesome. But as she shook a tiny body off her paw, she kind of wished these would be a little calmer.
In the wake of the massive retreat, the Ice Fangs turned the lower decks of their mobile fortresses into a sort of kindergarten. Soft and frail children of normies, hardy and sturdy orais, blade-armed or covered in spikes malformed—all kinds of children were herded there, safe behind tons upon tons of trusty steel. Naturally, just leaving the little rascals all alone would spell doom, so a few older Ice Fangs were put to the task of preventing the young ones from accidentally shiving or crushing each other. Normies helped too. Nurses sang prayers, calming the cubs, and teachers started lessons, distracting those who had no love for religion.
Alas, Brood Lord’s cubs were slightly harder to manage. Running back and forth on four needle-thin legs, these little critters had the appearance of a human torso mounted on an insectoid chassis. Smaller than even a normie infant, each cub before Elzada barely reached the length of her paw. Yet they were already ravenous, opening their small mouths filled with razor-sharp teeth, hissing, and lashing out at everything.
The cubs were clearly stressed out by the somewhat rough method of their transportation. Dokholkhu had to keep each of the twenty-eight cubs separate from each other; otherwise, their instincts would kick in and the weakest ones would be killed and devoured. Thankfully, Elzada knew just how to prevent such a thing from happening and put a plenty of milk and bread before the ever-starving eyes, which looked both so human and yet lacked any human sentience.
But, like most malformed, these cubs craved meat, and its supply was in short supply. And they were willing to hunt to get it. Dokholkhu and Jaliqai both volunteered to oversee their younger brood, but after questioning them a bit, Elzada understood that neither of them had any idea how to deal with this hunger. Thus, and in order to monitor these two, she volunteered to perform a mother’s duty and locked herself in the secured compartment.
To her great surprise, Ignacy soon knocked on the door, asking permission to stay. Elzada permitted it, forcibly making Ignacy put on several layers of clothes just to protect himself from bites and to keep a faint smell of blood emanating from his bandages away from the cubs’ nostrils.
This place was used to be a storage room to keep the priceless historical excavated relics from the times when the Twins still led the Order. Even now, with bare steel walls and only bowls filled to the brim with milk and bread on the floor, some scent of the Twins remained. A faint one. It assailed Elzada’s nostrils right away, but where the Blessed Mother’s smell inspired and invigorated, this scent calmed down. It almost felt like coming back to the tent and simply lying down, enjoying a momentary peace in the world.
“Honestly, it’s a bit like dealing with our cubs,” Elzada laughed, nudging one cub toward a bowl of milk. A sound from above alerted her about another one, and the wolf hag sidestepped, shrugging off a small body with her paw on the metal floor. A fall that could’ve hurt a normal cub did little aside from enrage the little one, who sprung to his feet and followed her movements with hungry eyes. “Only slightly more mobile! Nope! You do not get to eat me!”
Elzada plucked the “attacker” off the ground and licked him lovingly, putting the cub near a bowl with milk. Cubs! Was there anything better in this world? The loud and hungry screeching of the little ones has reminded Elzada of the protests of her dear son when she was scrubbing him clean and making him eat vegetables. Years ago, she and Anissa found a ruined hut in the wilderness, a home that belonged to one of the exiles, Wolfkins, who took crippled cubs and left the Tribe to nurse the kid back to health.
Such things were extremely rare, but the Tribe always looked after its own, exiled or not. Occasionally, the packs would drop by the Exiles, leaving supplies. Shamans would visit them, checking if they were not mistaken in their judgment and helping exiles settle in. Even still, the hut that Elzada and Anissa had visited was unique, even by the standards of Exiles. A happy pack of Wolfkins had lived there—eight cubs and two parents big. And seven of those cubs were healthy, a clear blessing from the Spirits. The family always eagerly helped and advised the travelers and chatted with scouts, stubbornly refusing shamans’ pleas to move into a nearby normie settlement for safety. The parents believed that once their offspring grew up, the Tribe would eagerly welcome them back.
But this was not to be. Life in the Wastes showed little mercy for the isolated. A group of malformed had stumbled upon the exiles, butchering, and cooking them. When Anissa and Elzada arrived at the site, the hut was burned, and bones were scattered all over the place. Only a single cub remained, a very young male, hidden beneath the sand by his parents and saved by some miracle from being discovered.
Rules and traditions demanded that they hand him over to the shamans to be judged. But seeing his starved body, the ribs pushing against the skin, his cracked, dry lips from dehydration, and hearing him name her “Mommy” had made Elzada’s heart melt. What female would deny a cub in a situation like this? She begged Anissa, who was just a scout back then, for help, and the two friends lied to the shamans about the cub’s origins, claiming Elzada bore him during a heat. The shaman in charge of their village believed them, whipping Elzada to the bone for hiding and mistreating the cub and permitting him to stay.
As for the malformed who committed the crime… The Tribe never forgets. A blood debt was incurred, and Lacerated One herself led the shamans on a holy war of vengeance, depopulating nearby hills out of every malformed. Their screams filled the night as the claws and fangs talked, bringing retribution and securing the area for a while until the next group of malformed moved in.
And this is how Elzada became a mother. With Anissa’s help, her precious Netslot had recovered just fine and was now enduring the pits. The last time she called him from Houstad, her son proudly announced that he had earned four fresh scars from a girl and had even managed to dominate another boy.
Seeing her son grow made Elzada want to find a soulmate. Someone to share the den with. Someone who will meet in the tent after the young one finds his own mate and leaves. The burning desire coursed through her veins, but no male she met was willing to share his scent with someone afraid of lifegiving. Until Ignacy came along. During an evening in Houstad together, Elzada hesitantly revealed the truth about her fear of having cubs and the true nature of her son, and Ignacy dearest simply shrugged, drawing her closer.
They left marks on each other’s bodies, mating in another violent surge of love to fight off the cold of the Inner Lands. Male, female, it hardly mattered on that night. The leading roles shifted as the two young Wolfkins sealed the pact, leaving rubber scents and becoming true soulmates. Elzada’s heart went cold after Janine took Ignacy with her on the rescue mission; she cried in secret after they failed to return.
But the Spirits gave him back! Her Ignacy, this loveable, always confused-looking doofus, has survived!
“They don’t understand, Elzada. Our kin only gain sentience around one-year-old…” Dokholkhu said worryingly, seeing one of his sisters trying to jump at the wolf hag’s snout. Elzada only laughed, evading the incoming cub, and grabbed her by the neck, returning her to the food.
Jaliqai, meanwhile, slapped another cub out of the air, saving Ignacy from receiving a bite on his neck. The hissing kid has landed on his back and raised his front legs in anger, receiving a light kick from his larger sister. Rolling against the floor, the little malformed stopped near the bread and sank his teeth into it.
Dokholkhu and Jaliqai, along with their reasonable brood-kin, fiercely argued against being sent into the rear. With their true age known, Warlord Martyshkina named them big cubs, leading to Jaliqai shouting for the right to wield weapons and protect her family. Martyshkina had refused to budge on this subject.
“Dude, trust me, I know, okay?” Elzada caught another malformed. “The state has, like, hundreds of different new breeds; you think we never dealt with rascals like these? Ha! You’ve got to treat them like our own cubs. They are animalistic and driven by instincts, but not fully stupid. They don’t understand words, but they understand tone and consequences. So we will train them to behave and stay safe.”
With these words, Elzada fell on all four, raising the fur on the neck’s nape. A low growl left her lips, and the happiness behind her eyes retreated, allowing the bloodthirst to come in. Her lips moved up, showing fangs. The cubs stopped their skittering, looking worriedly at the Wolfkin. She didn’t give them any slack and howled in rage.
But this was a controlled rage, one that made the youngest of her own kind fall silent and obey. She was setting up rules and warning them that retaliation will follow immediately unless her command was obeyed. The hissing stopped, and the silent command, “You will eat what you are given,” was understood immediately, and the cubs rushed to the bowls, sinking their tiny heads comically into milk and tearing loafs of bread asunder with fierce rage.
“How do you know how to do it?” Ignacy asked with genuine awe.
“Surprised you are not the only egghead around here?” Elzada chuckled and jerked her finger away from a tiny maw. Once her mood shifted, the nasty cubs once again tried their luck. “Bad girl! Here, milk! Not my meat; eat bread!” She let out a sigh, standing up and turning to her soulmate. “We will need to ask the Ice Fangs for at least some canned meat. Or I’ll just hunt for something to eat in the forest. As for your question, Anissa and I have been helping with lifegivings and keeping cubs in check in the Outer Lands.”
Ignacy nodded, understanding right away, but Jaliqai frowned.
“In check?” She asked.
“Yep!” Elzada moved aside, smacking back another cub. “Have ya paid attention to what I’ve been saying, girl? No biting! Anyway, tons of cubs in the Outer Lands are born... Well...”
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“Born as murderous psychos, let’s be real,” Ignacy suggested.
“I prefer the word special, but you have a point,” Elzada grinned after Ignacy sent her an air kiss. “Eager to kill their parents on the spot, eager to eat each other, you know, the regular malformed and new breed stuff. And normies can’t deal with them; some of these kids can lift a car right after leaving the womb! Their parents need to sleep, so Ani, I, and quite a few others would often leave our village to help in raising… Son of a bitch!” She tore a cub off her leg, rubbing away a minor wound left by his bite. Razor-sharp teeth, indeed. “Anyway, normies ask for help, we gladly oblige, helping to contain the cubs until they are old enough to understand that…” She roared the next words into the cub’s tiny face, allowing the emotions to deliver her message. “Chewing! Another! Person! Is! Wrong!”
“Which is kind of rich coming from us.” Ignacy grinned tiredly, baring his fangs at a cub who tried to sneak up on him. The cub retreated immediately.
“Do as I say, not as I do!” Elzada beamed and hugged her mate. He smiled! She thought Ignacy might try to follow Bogdan, but he smiled! There is life in him yet! And she will never let him squander it.
“Contain,” Jaliqai repeated the word, clenching her hands together. Another of your brothers tried to leap at Elzada’s back, only to be sent back with a kick. “Back at home, Brood Lord simply stomped any of us who were getting in his way. And slaves tending to young broodkins rarely lived long. I thought…”
“That everyone is just as horrible as the Horde?” Elzada bared her fangs, keeping the urge to growl at bay. This is a cub. It wasn’t her fault for being raised into a murderer. When the time came, Jaliqai had made the right choice. “Nah, get used to civilian life, bitch. You have a lot to atone for. Start by helping raise these ones properly.”
Jaliqai nodded, looking dispassionately at her hissing siblings. Elzada could hazard a guess at what sort of survival guilt was racing behind Jaliqai’s eyes. Let it be. The girl has her family, and in time, the troubles will be healed.
“Dwell not on the mistakes of the past, for they are set in stone,” Elzada said, letting go of Ignacy. “Learn from them instead. Use this experience to mold yourself into a better person…”
“…And make way toward a brighter future for those who lack both opportunity and strength,” Anissa finished the lesson left to the Tribe by the Spirit of Pride. The Wolf Hag came inside the room, closing the door. Her artificial eye shone like a newborn star. “At ease. Keep it up, and we’ll join the shamans together, Elzi.”
“I don’t have a knack for it.” Elzada moved her ears. “Plus, you know. A lung and a leg. I doubt the shamans would approve.”
“How is Mother?” Ignacy asked quickly.
“Recovering.” Anissa crossed the entire room, gracefully evading the lurking malformed, and embraced her brother, pressing his head against her chest. The two stood for a while, saying nothing, before Anissa let him go. “Elzada. Ignacy. Off to recovery. I am taking over the duty.”
“My wounds have already…” Elzada stopped talking when Anissa’s claw ended up against her neck. Spirits, she has gotten even faster! “Yeah, got it; no need to add new ones! Let’s go, Ignacy; I am about to give you a tour!”
Anissa always had the weird streaks of a character. Back when they were cubs, she had beaten Elzada’s baby fangs down her throat during a game. The next day, the girl reappeared, bringing clumsy excuses and inviting Elzada to do the same to her. This weird bonding made them friends. They hunted together, shared secrets, passed pits together, and Anis helped her heal the broken legs after Janine had paid a visit to the pits… And now Elzada has decided that the time has come to catch up to her friend. This war has brought out something new in her body. The bones had grown thicker, and her wounds closed slightly faster. And the mind gained new clarity. There was still a way to go before the prime.
That, and she can’t let herself look weak in front of Ignacy.
Anissa followed them with a heavy look before breaking into curses when several smaller malformed sneaked up on her and now buried the small teeth beneath her armpits and across her ankles, tearing through the fabric of her clothes with ease. Dokholkhu and Jaliqai jumped closer, trying to take away their kin, but Anissa stopped them, gathering air with a mighty breath.
Elzada smiled, leading Ignacy by the paw and closing the door, cutting off the raging howl, which made the walls tremble and caused the cubs to prostrate in fear. A shaman, really, Anissa? Someone like Elzada? Not in a million years. The metal has already stained her body. The leg has slowed down, breaking the perfect cohesion because the natural limb has grown a bit stronger.
Elzada hugged Ignacy, and for a moment, all was well in the world. He didn’t even mind when she led him to her den rather than showing him the engine room. Life was just too short to waste it.
****
Janine looked in the mirror, seeing how the horrid burns left on her face had started to heal and how new fur had come out of the healed flesh. She gulped down, ignoring a net of red veins around her eye, ignoring pain and memories of her son.
“I am still here,” she said, washing her face.
If the traitors were to be believed, this den was fit for a Sword Saint. Rich carpets adorned the floor, and a large and soft bed was covered by a multitude of flowing silken blankets and puffed pillows. The air was cool, perfect for the brooding mood. A small separate room hosted a perfectly fine bathroom, along with a large tub and a shower.
Anissa had long left, taking Marco away. Janine had spared no detail, telling everything how it was and pouring out her soul and feelings in order to share Bogdan’s last moment truthfully and to imprint his last act of sacrifice into the memory of his siblings. She expected lashings, cuts, anything! But they merely hugged her and grieved about Bogdan’s demise all together before Impatient One sent them off.
The shaman kept her cool, making the warlord join her in farewell prayer. Truth be told, it did little to the raging fury within Janine’s chest. She wanted to find Brood Lord and tear him asunder, prying out his sinews, one by one, and devour his bone marrow. And Spirits willing, it may yet happen.
A part of her soul taken away. Just a few days ago, Bogdan was alive. Just a few days ago, she believed in achieving some sort of amity with the order. And how the life had grabbed her by the neck and smacked Janine hard for such stupidity. Her paws clenched. A mistake—her mistake—has cost Bogdan and the others their lives. Looking in the mirror, Janine repeated the names of everyone who died in the trap. Never again.
Janine left the bathroom, picked up the Taleteller, and started mindlessly making swings, reading the information left on her terminal. Camelia’s life was not in danger, and her household has staged an orderly retreat. Alpha was nowhere to be seen, but the reports brought news about forests being decorated with intestines and strange flashes of fear in the region, prompting even the most stubborn farmers to drop everything and join the retreat to Houstad. With Leonidas’ death, Knight Captain Osiris was promoted to Sword Saint rank. Macarius woke up from his coma and begged Janine to visit him. Janine ignored the traitor’s request.
And losses. So many deaths. Janine ignored the urge to shatter the terminal in her paw. In a cold rage, she memorized the images of destroyed settlements and trampled villages. The Horde is coming in full force at Houstad. It wasn’t a matter of days anymore. In twenty-five hours or fewer, they will be there. And the Blessed Mother had yet to appear.
A knock on the door distracted her.
“Open!” Janine shouted, throwing aside the terminal.
Martyshkina pushed through the door, still wearing the full combat armor. The helmet moved away from her head, revealing an unusually calm face.
“Shouldn’t you oversee the retreat?” Janine snapped.
“It’s been taken care of.” The Warlord stepped closer to Janine, looming over her because of the power armor. “Everyone is in place, and the packs travel on foot, picking up any raider foolish enough to try to get a jump on us. I must confess a sin.” Marty bowed her head. “I planned to shoot myself once the war was over.” Her paw slid on the revolver’s handle. “The knowledge of leaving you and our sisters alone burned me. I could not eat, could not rest; all I wanted was to throw myself at the…”
Throwing the Taleteller on the floor, Janine slapped her with enough force that a wave of air reverberated from the room’s walls. She didn’t hold back her claws, and Marty’s cheek opened, showing the white of her bone and fangs.
“How dare you?” Janine pushed Marty into her chest, making her take a step back. Fear, mixed with anger, merged into a cocktail of burning emotions within her. “Soulmates keep on living when their partner dies. Are we worse than them? Are you weaker than them?”
“Maybe.” Marty ignored the blood dripping onto her armor. “I am tired. Exhausted. All we do is fight and kill. I know it’s selfish, but I can barely move on anymore. Waking up each morning, faking this cheerful façade, looking into the eyes of your pack, and wondering whom you will lose today. And then I became afraid of losing my spiritual sisters, the one pillar of my life I thought will never be shattered or removed. You and I grew together, wept, and cheered together. Predaig and Eled became our family. They accepted us, and now they are gone, and you expect me to take it like nothing?” Her voice broke. “What is awaiting us but more war, pain, and loss?”
“We have to live on, Marty.” Janine hugged her, allowing all aggression to disappear. “We have a duty to protect civilians.”
“We are in agreement on this one. I will never give up and never surrender until the Gilded Horde is shattered beneath my boot. But Jani.” The other woman swallowed. “I understand Predaig now.”
“What?” Janine asked calmly, remembering the first time all four of them, Eled, Predaig, she, and Marty, joined for their first party, aiming to bond as spiritual sisters.
Spirits, they were so stupid! Wearing no armor or clothes, the four of them bought enough booze to drown a small village and left for the wilderness, drinking themselves into oblivion while shouting obscenities and trading rumors about other females. They woke up to the sight of a skinwalker sniffing them, with spine mites and parasites busy sucking the blood out of them. And then that bitch tore off some insects, changing into a horrible, mismatched mess made of four of them combined, leading to them running, screaming, back to the village. Alpha mocked them relentlessly afterwards.
Was it fun? Damn, yes, it was! Janine felt another surge of pain at the knowledge that she will never again see either Eled or Predaig. Even their remains were lost.
“I am forgetting her face,” Martyshkina whispered. “The first of my cubs to survive, the pride and joy of my life, and I am forgetting what she looked like! Biologically, my body is barely thirty years old, and my brain is still functioning perfectly. But the doctors said that it is natural to forget some events after living for so long. They recommend making photos and videos to… to… I can’t… This shit, I just can’t. Why must we keep on living when our line ends up ending again and again? When is it our turn already? When can we rest?”
“I don’t know,” Janine replied honestly, letting go of her friend. “All I know is that this all must mean something in the end. But… You are right. We are humans too. You remember our first oath?”
“About beating up Freya?” Marty laughed, wiping the tears. “Yep, I sure do. We went overboard that time, and the poor lass still feels pain in her back. And her sister limped until the day she died.”
“Those bitches deserved it. They nearly clawed our eyes for fun,” Janine grumbled, closing her eyes. “We were cubs back then. Cruel, stupid, merciless fools. I will apologize to Freya after the war. But how about a new oath?” She smiled, seeing confusion in Marty’s eyes. “A good one this time. Let us leave the army once a stronger warlord is ready to replace us.”
“But the Tribe…”
“Will live on! And so will we, for the first time! We’ll steal some males, open a bar, maybe drag some of our cubs with us.” Janine squeezed Marty’s paws. “Think about it! It’s not like we betray the Blessed Mother or the Dynast. Should they call, we will come at once.”
“What is there to think about?” Marty smiled brightly, shrugging off the weariness. “I like it. Abyss, why not?”
“Alone or together,” they said in unison, trusting their instincts to guess the words of each other, “we promise to leave the Tribe one day, find a new soulmate, and start a new life. A normal, happy life.”
The two women hugged each other, grieving in silence upon remembering those they lost and at the same time finding new strength to hold on. One kept going thanks to the fresh dream. And another because of her duties and family.
And the war still raged on. A screaming siren broke the calm, announcing an emergency across the mobile fortress.