Day 23: Evening.
Elzada.
“Right in here, Miss…”
“The name’s Elzada.” She waved the officer away, sniffing the route.
Ignacy was in trouble! Her heart almost jumped out of her chest at the news, and it surprised her. Elzada had always thought of Ignacy as more of a fleeting thing than a serious soul mate. Oh, the boy was handsome, no doubt. His fur was enchanting, his cheeks were simply perfect, and even their size wasn’t far off. His mother’s divinity ran through his veins. Their cubs would have been so beautiful!
But there was something off about him. The mating rituals of the Wolf Tribe weren’t very complicated. In the old days, females simply chose a male at random as their soulmate, regardless of their desires. But after Terrific killed her second mate for failing to make her some male cubs, Lacerated One, Zero, Alpha, Ashbringer, and Dragena, accompanied by the Twins, visited the Blessed Mother and forced her to change things. As always, Ravager refused to stay in charge for long, but some laws were implemented.
Now the Wolfkins needed the approval of both sides to form a union. It was foolish to expect anything reasonable from the males, so the females invented a whole ritual of flashing their claws and not dominating their future soulmates to get their attention. The only exception was the Season of Heat, but that was, well, heat. When a female came of age, there was an urge to mate, and any male was game.
Almost none of them refused free copulation. Except Ignacy. Not only did he reject Elzada, he ignored her advances altogether, begging her not to ruin his blueprints. To this day, the confusion of that moment filled her mind. How could a male reject a female for the sake of mundane things? Elzada respected his odd hobby and tried to avoid the strange buffoon, but something in his gaze always drew her back.
She did not see him as someone who would prepare breakfast for her cubs in the morning. He was more likely to set fire to the tent while tinkering with new gadgets. But when she saw the news, Elzada leaped to Janine and begged to for the right to bring Ignacy back.
I am weird.
“It was Benguigui’s freaks,” she overheard a white-haired officer speaking to the commissioner. “I recognized the head. That creep was seen with Raffy. If you give me a squad, I’ll…”
“Agent Piam has already contacted me,” the commissioner responded. “The Investigation Bureau is handling the situation.”
“The investigators have been sleeping on this robbery! Sir, there is queerness in the air. The Benguiguis are doing God knows what, now that robbery.” The officer put his hands on the table. “They couldn’t have hoped to escape from Houstad. And the Investigation Bureau’s agents are stalling things. Sir, we must act.”
“Notice a log in your own eye before you accuse the investigators of incompetence, Zurkov,” the commissioner said. “I have received complaints about your treatment of non-humans…”
Elzada found Ignacy not in a waiting room or a cell, but down the hall in the basement, where he was busy fixing a leaking battery.
“Why is he here?!” she demanded to know.
“He asked himself.” The officer scratched his head. “We offered him a room to wait in, but Mr. Ignacy insisted on being useful and fixed a water dispenser, lights in the basement, and is now…”
“Elzada!” Ignacy turned, and his happy muzzle made her smile against her anger. “Glad to see you!”
“Same here. I came to pick you up. How are you doing?”
“This place is awesome! They have a library here, the food is simply magnificent, and the people are super nice.” Ignacy put aside the wretch and wiped his paws on his jacket, leaving dirty smears. “Anyway, I wanted to ask you something... if it’s okay.”
“What about?” I swear, if he asks to stay here, I will bite him.
“I’ve read about a cool thing in the city. Called a theater. It’s similar to the way artists perform in the main squares of the settlements, but on a much bigger stage. I thought... Would you like to come with me and check it out?”
“Sure.” Elzada smiled, and Ignacy beamed. She took him under the arm and marched him out. “First, we return to the base. You need to clean up. Then we’ll go.”
Yes! He finally makes the first move! Elzada dragged Ignacy to the car, too worried about him getting distracted again and grinning from ear to ear at the warmth in her chest. Maybe he felt something for her after all. If so, she was ready to find out what kind of man he was. And perhaps give birth to five or ten cubs. Yes, cubs would be nice.
****
Anji.
Anji was relieved that Janine permitted her to leave the base. In recent weeks, the warlords had limited the packs’ training hours. Rumor had it that the order came from high up: the Third Army was here to rest and recuperate. Leaves were available on first request, but many Wolfkins preferred to spend their time in their dens, not showing a nose behind the walls. But not Kalaisa.
Her unexpected companion wasn’t a lost cause. Anji was sure of that. If the Tribe could tolerate people like Terrific, they could tolerate Kalaisa. There was a future for her, and Anji was glad to see that the younger woman was trying her best to become a better person.
In the past few days, Kalaisa had come out of her shell more and more, accepting the jokes and insults aimed at her without the usual claws and fangs. She even pulled a few harmless pranks. Seeing her now, bloodied and brooding, soured Anji’s mood a bit.
I hope our progress won’t go to waste.
“How’s Kirk?” Kalaisa asked as Anji sat down on the opposite side of a table.
“Your brother and sister came to pick him up with Ygrite’s permission. I volunteered to bring you back. I thought you two shouldn’t bump into each other today.”
“Oh. Right. Good idea.” Kalaisa put her legs on the chair and grabbed her knees. “I am broken, Anji.”
“The therapist didn’t think so. She said that you have anger issues, abandonment issues, and…”
“What does she know!?” Kalaisa clicked her fangs. “Anji, let’s be real. Who wouldn’t abandon a trash like me? Especially after what I’ve done to my family.” She rubbed her nose.
“Kalaisa,” Anji stopped, trying to find the right words. “I am... If you are fishing for pity, I have none to offer. I’m your friend, but you’re not exactly a victim when it comes to your family. They are.”
“I know it, Abyss take it! I just have no idea how to fix it!”
“You could try apologizing,” Anji suggested.
“And how do you think that would work? ‘Sorry for beating you up all these years? Kirk, remember that one time I used you as toilet paper? Or that time I nearly broke your legs? Yeah, sorry about that. We cool?’ Arghr!” Kalaisa wrapped her paws around her head and slowed her breathing. For a moment, Anji thought she was going to pass out. “No. Asking for forgiveness puts a burden on them, an obligation to forgive or not. I can’t... Nothing can atone for what I’ve done. The best I can do is give them space. Get out of their lives as much as I can.”
“That may be right.” Anji nodded, placing a paw over Kalaisa’s. “But it’s only a start. Don’t give up professional help. Keep reading the self-help books. Regulate your anger. Keep trying to improve yourself.”
“Where further?” A grin came upon Kalaisa’s muzzle. “I am already stronger than you.”
“In your dreams, perhaps,” Anji let out a ringing laugh. She stopped after Kalaisa fell silent again.
“Today is Kirk’s stupidass birthday. You know, he gave me a toy once and slept on my belly later. How could I forget how happy I was then? Where does this hatred, this anger, come from? I wanted to give him my own gift, to show him I’d never hurt him again. Instead, I have caused him to freak out.” Kalaisa bit her lower lip. “Can you ask that fucker… Bogdan, to throw a party or something? Anything to cheer Kirk up. Tell them I’m staying away.”
“Too late for that,” Anji said. “Ygrite has already announced a big celebration, honoring Kirk’s and your involvement in disposing of the robbers.”
“Ain’t that great,” Kalaisa grumbled, closing her eyes. “I’ll just skulk in the shadows. My family’s had enough of my shit for a lifetime. To be honest, I don’t want to get better. I want them to be better and happier. Myself? Didn’t earn that, Anj.”
Anji reached out across the table and slapped Kalaisa across the face. The amber eyes opened wide, fueled by the fury, and Kalaisa growled, her claws splintering the wood.
“The Abyss was that for?”
“You are a wolf hag, Kali.” Anji tried to speak evenly and not spurn this idiot away. “Your self-loathing won’t help anyone. Think for once. If you disappear, your pack will suffer for the lack of your strength. Unless you missed, you saved Kirk’s life today…”
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“And that fixes everything? Absolves me of guilt? Bullshit.” Kalaisa bared her fangs. “One good deed means nothing.”
“I did not imply it.” Anji ignored the desire to break the table over Kalaisa’s head. “The point is that your strength saved a life. Kirk still lives and can potentially heal the damage you caused. Stay in the shadows instead of leading, and your pack will suffer for lack of training. Your family will suffer.”
“Duties,” Kalaisa groaned. “Always duties. You know, I never wanted to be a wolf hag. I just… snapped when I arrived in Ygrite’s pack and challenged my superior. What I wanted was to loosen up, and in a few blows I won and ended up commanding almost a hundred soldiers. Me! A person with no experience. I dreamed of shiny power armor; instead, ours are rusted and dented. Our shardguns often misfire in real combat and even explode from time to time; that’s why Ygrite forces her pack to accept augmetics. Tracking equipment is of similar quality, radars barely work, and PA’s HUDs flash mid-mission. Guess I deserve it, corroded armor, corroded soul…”
“Again with the self-pity!” Anji slapped her paw on the table. “Drop it! You said you didn’t earn to get better? It’s not what you’ve earned that matters, it’s what you need. The power armor in your pack are rusty? Off to Chak and demand it be repaired. Your pack’s equipment and weapons are barely functional? To Chak you go, write a report; if he doesn’t fix it, write directly to Captain Cristobo; if he drops the ball too, write to the higher-ups. Keep pestering everyone; ask the warlords for help, but solve the problem! These are your soldiers; you are responsible for their lives! Fuck Ygrite, if she does nothing, that doesn’t mean you have to follow in her footsteps!
“Yes. Your life is full of duties. And responsibilities. This is adult life; get used to it, because it is here to stay,” Anji added warmth into her voice. “But you don’t have to be unhappy, Kali. You can both excel in your duties and be happy, and that way you can help others as Janine has helped you. Maybe, no, most likely your family will never forgive you,” Anji told the harsh truth. “They have a right to that. But you are alive, save lives, and educate younger scouts not to end up like you. Don’t give up; hang in there, heal, and let me help you, ‘kay?”
Kalaisa gave a single nod. Anji relaxed a bit and pressed a finger to her lips. By the looks of it, her comrade had taken her advice to heart, but leaving her alone in her paws felt wrong. Dad did not leave anyone in trouble, daring to come to the rescue even in the most remote villages. She won’t drop the situation either.
“Capital. Get up; we go to the base, clean you up, and go straight to Alpha and come clean to her about everything.”
“Anj, I don’t care what happens to me, but you can’t expect me to rat on my warlord. For all her flaws, she is our leader and has always risked her life to save us when our PA failed…”
“That is exactly what I expect from you! If I ever become as irresponsible as Ygrite, I expect you to kick my ass and report me. You know Onyxia acts like Ravager, right? She drops out of the shadows, gives orders to the wolf hags, and fucks off back into the darkness, never training us herself. But every time supplies come in, she meticulously checks every detail—every shardgun, every grenade. And if she doesn’t like something, Onyxia sits down, writes a report, and doesn’t leave until our equipment is up to her standards. Because our lives are at stake, and that is how a warlord should act.” Anji tapped on the table to calm herself. She hadn’t expected to be so riled up about Onyxia’s eternal absence from the pack’s life. “Here’s the thing. If we go to Janine, she will talk to Ygrite and hardly anything will be resolved. Onyxia is still on the mission, and Ashbringer hates your guts…”
“The feeling is mutual,” Kalaisa muttered. “I am going to get that ferret one day.”
“…Alpha is not safe, but she is a problem solver. Kali, this is your duty. Our duty at this point. For the sake of not only the soldiers under your command, but for the sake of Ygrite’s entire pack, we must put an end to this incompetence. Ygrite may be a genius at ambushes and traps, and perhaps she is truly willing to give her life for her soldiers. All this may be true. But we cannot allow her indifference to the equipment in her pack to cost any more lives. So what is your answer, Kalaisa? Are you with me?”
“I am. But we will tell the full truth and let Alpha judge me as she will.” Kalaisa stood up, ready to move toward the exit, when a piercing howl filled the corridor.
“What in the name of the lightless Abyss’ bowels is that?”
****
A police officer.
The police officer barely had time to open the door before a giant Wolfkin stormed past him and into the interrogation room. Impatient One, as the woman called herself, paced the room, towering over the seated woman who had a crimson implant for an eye. The reports said these two were sisters, but to him, all Wolfkins looked the same.
Am I a racist? The man wondered, desperately trying to find any differences between the women, aside from their size. The same color of their natural eyes, heavy fur coverings, and even their hair were pretty much the same.
In the past few days, the situation in the city became unstable. Not because of Wolfkins. Today’s four were the second to be taken into custody, the first being Warlord Martyshkina’s wolf hags, who drank themselves into a stupor and had to be thrown into a drunk tank for everyone’s safety.
But criminals of all kinds have become extremely active, trying to smuggle huge amounts of ill-gotten gains out of the city. The higher-ups were informed of this and attributed the result to Tancred’s influence. The sword saint had already brought more than a dozen smaller gangs to justice. Even though their cells were filled with criminals and the streets were getting safer by the day, the police officer felt uneasy. It was as if an unseen storm was gathering, and no one seemed to care.
I must be getting paranoid. Decided the man.
“You are a complete disappointment!” Impatient One barked at Anissa.
“Listen, I can explain.” The other woman raised her paws.
“I don’t think you do.”
“No, really! Armed thugs stormed into the bank; we snapped and…”
“And you let the bloody male take the lead!” Impatient One shook her fist. “I commend Kirk for his determination, but you should have taken the initiative and gotten the first kill! Didn’t Mother and I teach you better than that?” She leaped on the table, ignoring the police officer’s worried look. Raising a finger, Impatient One continued. “Why did you rip out that bastard’s chest if you weren’t going to eat him? People got scared! Kill efficiently! And why did you pull a spine out of another?”
“I…” Anissa licked her lips, “may or may not have used it as a club.”
“A… club. Instead of the noble blades you were blessed with.” Impatient One stopped speaking, shaking with rage. She released her claws, and the police officer shuddered at the size of them. Impatient One grabbed Anissa’s throat. “I will choke the life out of you for this disgrace!”
The police officer reached for a button on his belt and pressed it, summoning the riot squad. He had experience with New Breeds, of course; they committed crimes just like anyone else. New Breeds were stronger and faster, and they were usually apprehended by other New Breeds or shot with tranquilizer darts.
But he had never seen people like this. Impatient One and Anissa turned into a blurry ball, kicking, slashing and biting each other. Their weight crashed into the table, and as they rolled around the room, hitting the walls and shaking them with the impact of their titanic struggle.
“I will peel the skin off your face!”
“Time to see the color of your guts!” Surprisingly, their voices did not sound angry. They reminded him of times when he and his sister played silly pranks on each other and swore revenge, only to burst out laughing.
A splash of blood fell on his face, and the police officer wondered if he should try to stop it. But how do you stop a fight when you can’t even see the fighters? Where is this damn riot squad?
He breathed a sigh of relief as the officers in green power armor, wielding large shields and clubs, rushed past him. Immediately, they surrounded the fighters, pushing the ball of violence into the center of the room, slamming their shields into the floor to get a better foothold, and bringing down their maces. Electricity crackling, the weapons meant to knock out suspects had landed on the black-furred forms. Again. And again.
“Is this a joke? A grandmother can hit harder than this!” One of the Wolfkins shouted.
“Put your soul into it! You are the soldiers of the state, not some wimps!” added the second.
Neither of the Wolfkins even stopped struggling; they were still hacking, kicking, and tearing chunks of flesh from each other as they snapped at the policemen, more annoyed at their weakness than at their interference. One officer shouted an order to bring in the tranquilizer rifles.
“Anissa! I came as soon as I heard! Are you fine…” A monster straight from hell scuttled into the room, moving quickly on many legs; its chitin-covered body barely squeezed through the doorway, and the newcomer coiled inside the room, raising his head to the ceiling. “What the horror is going on here?”
In the end, it took sixty darts before the perpetrators finally fell asleep, snorting loudly and still holding each other by the.
****
Brood Lord.
“My friends!” The khan spread his arms wide to greet his troops.
He stood with his back to a burning pyre, and hundreds of Purebloods, Dirtybloods, and bondsmen greeted him, banging their golden cups against wooden tables that stretched a dozen meters each. Every food imaginable was here, alcohol and chai flowed like rivers, and beautiful women and men stood ready to serve their every whim. It annoyed him to waste his riches on sacrificial lambs, but Brood Lord needed them in high spirits for what was to come.
His keen eyes scanned the room, taking note of the ambitious and the cowardly gathered under his command. Only these could pose a problem, for they could see the pattern and try to save their hides before doing their jobs. It was no bother. Brood Lord had been playing this game for decades, and he had already figured out who to keep and who to discard. Everything will happen much too fast for anything to go awry.
“What is the best way to topple a nation?” he asked, walking through their ranks, goblet in hand. “Is it to attack, attack, and attack, as Iron Lord Khan claims?” The soldiers laughed. “Overwhelming force is simply not enough if we are to preserve our skins. Eventually a bullet finds its mark! No, my friends. In your eyes I see a true understanding of how the world works. Fear is what paralyzes the hands that prepare to pull the trigger. It is the will that must be broken!”
Brood Lord drew himself up to his full height and drank rice mead, tasting its honey and feeling his hearts race faster. Droplets of sweat from the long celebration glittered in the flames. Drozna was sitting, surrounded by a host of men who fed him grapes. The fingers of his loyal follower caressed their backs. Phaser lingered in the shadows, covetously and meticulously checking his share of the day’s trophies. Farther back, the hired killers, the twins, stood watching, never joining in the festivities as usual.
In their loyalty, Brood Lord wasn’t sure. But their skills were valuable, and he had decided to dance with danger and tolerate their presence. There were safe ways to dispose of them.
“Tomorrow we shall erode the Reclamation Army’s confidence and remind them of the savagery. Their city will suffer and burn, their leaders will die, and fear will touch every corner of their nation. Their wall, hopes, and dreams will crumble amid it all.” He saluted his troops. “You know your targets, but do not stop there. Murder and desolate, do not retreat until you have fired your last bullet. Let them wail in horror at the sight of piles of corpses in the streets; let them know that their order is lost. And as our forces break through the wall, our steeds shall march upon the backs of broken and frightened populace. Our raid will haunt their dreams to the end of days!”
He paused, waiting for a slave servant girl to refill his goblet. She had a nice, muscular build, and the blackness of her skin was simply irresistible. Brood Lord decided to taste her first on this night.
“Some of you will die. I may die,” he lowered his voice to give it gravitas and briefly softened his face. “Doubtlessly, you have all experienced loss. Brother, mother, sister, father… By your strength, you have stood where they fell! Conquest is in our blood! If we die, we will go out as martyrs, saluting the Sky and watching as our horde crushes the unbelievers!” Brood Lord yelled. “And to the survivors go the spoils. Glory! Wealth! Women! Lands! Slaves! To each their own, and our prey has it all in abundance! It is a great land, but one swollen with the fat of peace, while you are in your prime! So as you face your fate tomorrow, know that whatever it may be, it won’t be in vain! The Horde is merely beginning, and our deeds will go down in legends! Slaughter for me! Victory for Mad Hatter Khan! Devour the world and prosper!”
“Devour the world!” The roar of his soldiers surrounded him, and Brood Lord smiled, basking in their adoration and enjoying their stupidity.
There will be prosperity, but it will be reserved for the survivors. Mad Hatter will conquer the world. These willing pawns will pay the blood price for it. And he will rule it.