“We’re getting close.”

Greg could have cried with relief when he began to feel like he knew the area, when the curves of the mountains started to line up with the picture the Morgulon had somehow left in his head. And it was only the day right after new moon.

“Should we – maybe announce ourselves?” Thoko asked. “I mean, maybe you should announce yourself? With a howl?”

“We haven’t crossed into their territory yet.”

“Yeah, but if they’re within hearing distance? Might be nice to tell them we’re coming before we cross?”

“Maybe tomorrow night,” Greg sighed. “I’m not going to turn today.”

He did transform the next day and threw his head back into a long howl. He still wasn’t entirely firm on how to communicate as a wolf, but he hoped he managed to convey a message of “we come in peace, may we approach?”

They’d approach anyway, but he tried not to think of that.

Mostly, Greg thought, he ended up sounding tired.

It took more than four hours before they got an answer, loud enough that even Thoko twitched on his back.

“Please tell me that was a ‘come on over, we’ve got food’,” she sighed, once the echo had died.

Greg nodded to the “come on over” part, and shook his head on the food.

“Great. You going to go hunting tonight?”

Greg nodded again.

Early the next morning they crossed the border. Greg had half expected to find the same kind of scent markings regular wolves used, but instead, it was more of a magical aura. At least they wouldn’t have to worry about the Rot any longer.

Now they just had to worry about the potentially hostile elder werewolf.

Greg closed his eyes for a second and let his head swing left and right until he was fairly certain he knew which direction the elder was, and then started walking slowly, with Thoko at his back, as safe as she could be.

Hopefully, it would be enough.

They didn’t have to go far. Just as the day started warming up again, Greg heard the light footfall of paws in the underbrush, just out of sight.

And then he walked into a wall of the unseen elder’s power, and he stopped, wincing.

He was still blinking in confusion when the man stepped out between the trees, a tall guy, with a wild beard and mane of black and brown hair. He wore nothing but pants, which was more than Greg had expected.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

His yellow eyes flashed with anger.

“Human,” he huffed. His voice was rough as if he had yelled himself hoarse over this already. “What do you want here?”

Six other werewolves appeared behind him. All of them older than Greg, all of them wolf.

“The Morgulon sends us,” Thoko said.

Greg could feel her fingers digging into the fur on his neck, but her voice was perfectly steady.

A growl went up all around them, and the elder barked at his pack.

“What the hell for, human?”

Greg wanted to transform, to explain – this was what he had been sent here for! – but he couldn’t move a muscle, let alone find the mental balance to turn human.

He could hear Thoko taking a deep breath. “Do you – know anything about what is happening with the humans in the rest of the country right now?” she asked. “A lot of things are changing. We’re building a railway from Eoforwic to Mannin, and –“

“Eoforwic to Mannin? Shit, that’s gotta take a lot of Alchemy.”

“None at all,” Thoko said hurriedly. “Just werewolves. The Morgulon is there, and Bernadette and Calder, I don’t know if you know them...?”

“Children,” grumbled the elder in front of them. “Yeah, I know them. Bernadette always had a soft heart for your kind. How’d the Morgulon get involved in that mess?”

Thoko ran her fingers through Greg’s fur again. “Duke George Louis wants to take the crown of Loegrion. He needs the railway for that. For the railway, he needs werewolves. He is making it illegal to hunt werewolves who are – sane.”

There was another round of growls at that.

“Yeah, and then it’s full moon, and they chop our heads off.”

“On the contrary,” Thoko said. Greg was amazed at how her voice wasn’t shaking. “It’s illegal to hunt werewolves on full moon. Any hunter who kills a werewolf without a crown warrant or a trial – and the trial has to happen first – will be themselves bitten. There are even volunteers, people who are sick, who line up to be considered for a bite, to survive.”

“You’re lying,” grumbled the elder flatly.

“The Morgulon sent us,” Thoko repeated. “How else could we have found you? She’s expecting children of her own soon.”

“And he’s what – your dog?”

“He’s my friend,” Thoko replied, and now there was a growl to her voice, too.

“If that is true, then get off his back.”

“And that’ll prove what, exactly?” Thoko asked back.

“I’d just like to have a word with him. You stay away from me.”

Thoko hesitated a second longer but did slide off of Greg’s back. Greg moved forward. He couldn’t stop himself. But when he stood right in front of the elder werewolf, he did manage a low growl, and half turned his head to look at Thoko.

“The human was telling the truth, after all,” muttered the elder. “At least about that. How very strange.”

Greg closed his eyes. This wasn’t the Morgulon. This elder didn’t have the same kind of raw power, and when he focused, he managed to plant his paws a little wider, digging his claws into the dirt.

The older man half frowned, half smiled. “Really, kid? You’re gonna fight me? Us?”

If that was what it took to get Thoko out of here safely.

“I see.”

One werewolf sniggered, another one growled, but the elder just raised one hand without looking at his pack. “She’s telling the truth?” he wanted to know. “They are making it illegal to hunt werewolves?”

Greg nodded, but he was fairly sure he needn’t have.

“What about the Mad Butcher?”

It took Greg a few seconds to remember that that was the name other werewolves called deLande. But how he was supposed to explain what had happened between her and the Morgulon, he had no idea.

“The Morgulon herself saved her life,” Thoko replied in his place, and Greg nodded. “They’re working together.”

“There is no way –“ The elder broke off and stared at Greg. After a few seconds, he started shaking his head, asking, “What about, can’t remember his name, that black guy?”

“Bram Feleke?” Thoko asked. “He quit hunting. You’re looking at his son.”

“I – what?” the elder asked, and just kept shaking his head.

“Fine,” he sighed eventually. “Come along. I need to hear the whole story.”