Greg trotted after Lee, tired, yet at the same time filled with the restlessness of the soon-to-rise full moon. More than anything, though, he was bored. Lee was one of those guys who acted entirely human around new moon, and more and more wolfish as the moon waxed. Which meant that for the past two days, Greg’s travelling companion had been no more talkative than a dog.
They should have taken Thoko along.
Greg shook his head at himself. He did miss her a lot, but bringing her would have been way too dangerous. Already, the weather was turning, even though they were only just in the foothills of the Argentum Formation. No doubt back in the heartlands, the trees hadn’t lost all their golden leaves yet. Here, Greg could smell the first snow on the breeze.
A year ago, he wouldn’t have known what that note, that taste in the cold air was, but he was getting better at interpreting all the smells and sounds only the wolf could ever notice.
As the temperature kept dropping and they trudged onwards, Greg dreamed himself back to a warmer day and the seaside and holding hands with Thoko while strolling along the beach.
If only he could show her around Deva sometimes, go for a walk through the Royal Gardens along the White Torrent’s shores, introduce her to Gustave and maybe even at court. Just show her his old life.
The thought made the howling in the back of his head rise in volume, as if the wolf wanted to remind him how much his life had changed. As if he needed reminding.
How had Gustave reacted to his letter?
It had been more than a month, there might even be an answer waiting for him at Brines. He should have mentioned that he was going to leave for the mountains again.
But that would only matter if Gustave decided to answer right away, and after Greg hadn’t written in almost two years – well, he’d be lucky to get any answer at all, after everything that had happened. Greg hoped he would. But it didn’t seem too likely.
And what would he do if Gustave was willing to forgive Greg disappearing without a word of good-bye and then the long silence – what would they even do? Their friendship had been anchored around the lessons they shared with Mr. Higgins, and the distractions of Deva they had enjoyed together. Greg still wasn’t sure if he would be able to return to the capital, and Gustave wasn’t really a pen-pal type, was he?
He’d just have to hope that David could talk the duke into allowing werewolves into Deva, without a guard, at least around new moon.
First he needed to survive another full moon and an oncoming snow storm.
And then they needed to find their way again in the white-out.
The last part wasn’t too hard, mostly since Greg could just leave it to Lee. The other werewolf had claimed, when he had still been talking, that he had never been past the Crucible Ridge, but he was very good at sensing elders. So Greg just had to follow him.
As boring as it was.
They ran into another issue once full moon was over: the clothes Greg had brought were barely sufficient for the weather and in three feet of snow, hunting as a human was incredibly difficult. Lee watched him trudge around and freezing his arse off for half a day and then downed him in a snow drift.
Turn wolf, he ordered.
It was the first thing he said in a whole week, so Greg complied. His clothes were drenched anyway, and he was getting more miserable by the minute.
Lee took the lead again, and Greg got his first lesson ever at hunting like a wolf.
The other part of him pressed to the forefront as soon as they picked up a fresh trail and this time, Greg let it. He had no idea how to become one with the wolf, or whatever Morgulon had been talking about, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to, anyway. Even if that might have saved him the embarrassment of finding himself a father without any memory of his one-night-stand with the mother.
What other fun had the wolf had with their body that Greg didn’t know about? Nathan had talked about him and Fleur “snuggling.” Was that all that had happened between them?
Sun, he hoped so.
How much of whatever had been going on did Fleur remember?
He’d have to ask her. He had never meant to lead her on, or anything, but if that was what had happened, he needed to set things straight between them.
What a mess.
The wolf made an almost as big mess of the wild pig they hunted down. Greg felt a little embarrassed about that – he was good at killing his prey fast and with minimal suffering. In his other body, at least. The wolf very much did not care about the pig’s feelings.
Greg got instead a strong sense of accomplishment from it, a deep satisfaction while it ate its share of the warm meat.
Afterwards, Greg turned human again to tie the two haunches they hadn’t finished to their small packs. He didn’t get dressed for it, and hurried to become a wolf again. His fur was nice and thick. He wondered if it had been that way before or if part of the magic that allowed him to change shapes also gave him a winter coat. It hadn’t occurred to him to check his fur in summer. He’d have to wait and see if it was different then.
Lee wasn’t yet at a point where he would answer questions.
It was a night before half moon when they settled down to rest, that Lee finally – not spoke. But communicated.
You all right? the older werewolf asked. Sorry for the silence, I should have warned you. It’s less of an issue if I remain human, but if I’m wolf a lot... Well.
It’s fine, Greg thought and shrugged. He hoped that Lee would get the message. He still wasn’t very good at getting his meaning across, even after all that time with Bernadette’s pack.
Lee nodded. Right. I forgot how new you’re to all this. Less than two years, right?
Greg nodded.
Lee – Greg thought Lee laughed quietly.
I cannot believe how much has changed since last spring. Mind you, he added with a shudder, I’m still sometimes surprised I’m alive. Once we realized that the bloody – that your brother was after us – with deLande of all people, too...
Lee shuddered again.
Greg’s hair stood on end, too, and his heartbeat had picked up, even though there was no reason for him to be afraid at all.
Well, wasn’t that interesting? No wonder all the werewolves older than him shared the same reaction whenever David’s name came up.
Suddenly, Greg was very relieved that he hadn’t been a famous hunter. Wouldn’t that have been embarrassing, if all the other werewolves saw that kind of danger in him?
Or would the fact that he had gotten bitten outweigh that?
Pierre had mentioned that most of the males in his pack had been hunters, once. Did other packs accept them as easily?
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Lee flicked his head in a gesture that Greg knew by now meant “no”, once Greg had finally gotten his question across.
That’s the reason why I never went past the Crucible Ridge, Lee said. I wasn’t nearly as famous as your brother, but still. A lot of packs out here do not react well if they find out you’ve been a hunter, especially if you’re a really young werewolf. At least, that’s what I heard. I didn’t want to risk it.
Greg wondered if they were old enough now not to get into trouble, should they run into a pack that wasn’t Pierre’s or Theo’s. He had a feeling that the elder one called Bridget might take a swing at them. Or a bite.
They should be far enough to the north to avoid her, Greg hoped. He had aimed for north of Theo’s territory, since Pierre had mentioned that he lived in that direction. They didn’t know how far north, though, and there was no telling who the elder was that Lee was sensing.
“Why did we decide again that winter was a good time to visit the Argentum Formation?” Lee asked on new moon.
“Autumn,” Greg corrected, shivering, too. “Late autumn.”
“How do, what, five feet of snow? How does this not qualify as winter?”
“I just meant that it’ll get worse. Probably.”
“Something to look forward too, then.”
All that snow was slowing them down a lot, and it took them another day to reach the territory of the elder Lee had guided them towards. Greg knew, as soon as he crossed the border, that it was not Pierre.
They howled to announce themselves, but when there was no answer, they moved forward anyway, cautiously, since they had come all this way to find elder werewolves, no matter who they were.
Less powerful than Pierre, Greg thought while they moved on. About Theo’s age? Although, the pack might be smaller and the individual members older, he supposed.
There were four wolves waiting for them in a clearing, watching them and radiating unhappiness. The oldest one was female. She had the same grey around her muzzle as Pierre had. The male by her side was nearly as old, and the two younger ones were about Bernadette’s age, Greg guessed.
The will of the pack leader made both him and Lee stop quite a distance away from them. It was almost funny how nervous the four elders were at the sight of the two of them.
Are you from the heartlands? The leader asked.
Yes, Lee confirmed. We’re here about –
The old priest told us about you. You should not have come here.
The she-wolf was quickly reaching a point where fury overwhelmed fear.
Lee ducked his head. We’ll just leave you in peace then.
They tried to back off, but the elders didn’t let them.
You should not have come here, the leader repeated. Greg could feel an echo of hate and fear in her thoughts, and a terrible determination. We will not run away again.
Shit, Greg thought, while Lee whined softly.
The two younger werewolves of the pack already approached them, growling and snarling, ducked low over the snow. In the back of his mind, the wolf was howling in terror, telling him to raise his head, to present his jugular in a gesture of surrender. To beg for mercy, just like Lee was doing.
But Greg was fairly certain that no amount of begging would save them. He had felt it in the female elder’s thoughts – her mind had been made up before they had even started talking.
Greg had not expected this. Sure, that they might not be welcomed with open arms – even a hasty retreat –
But Morgulon had said that there was danger, hadn’t she? That someone might try to kill them?
That had been the very reason why he had been chosen, not someone else. It had made no sense to him when she had first made the decision.
Now he knew why.
He forced the wolf’s voice aside and planted his feet wide, ducking his head low to protect the vulnerable underside of his neck. He’d yelled at Bernadette, at his own pack-leader, at someone he actually liked, and on full moon, too. He wouldn’t roll over and offer his throat to these strangers now.
Greg glanced from one attacker over to the other, trying to figure out a way to get them out of this mess alive.
The Morgulon sent us, Lee said. He sounded strangled.
There was only the briefest hesitation in the two who were about to murder them. One of them looked back to their pack-leader, but she just growled: Then even she must have gone mad after all.
Greg hesitated a second longer. He was certain that the attack on them would stop if he could threaten the leader, but that would leave Lee undefended.
As if she could feel what was going through his head, the elder focused on Greg, laying the whole weight of her will onto him. But that could only subdue the wolf-part of him. And he wasn’t going to be ruled by an animal’s instincts. Especially not if they were sure to get him killed.
Greg forced his legs forward in a jump, tumbling into the closest one of his attackers, nearly knocking him over. Greg could have gotten a couple of good bites in, but he needed to focus on the pack leader.
Neither of the four had expected a fight. Only one of them was as tall and heavy as Greg, and it was the wolf furthest away from him. They probably thought that he was too young to be any trouble.
Think again, Greg tried to tell them. The older male tried to block him, but Greg just ploughed through him, and then he was onto the female pack-leader. She wasn’t very big, and she was fragile. He thought he might have heard something break when he bore her down onto the ground, or maybe it was just old joints creaking. He didn’t really care.
You’re mad, he heard her squeaking in his head.
Back off, or he’ll seriously hurt her.
Greg was glad to hear Lee’s warning. He didn’t even want to think about how this meeting might have gone if it had been any other moon phase.
He’s mad!, the elders kept repeating. Totally mad!
He’s not mad at all, Lee gave back calmly. You’ll all back off now, and we’ll leave the way we came. Or he’ll break her neck. Your choice.
Greg wasn’t entirely certain that he could bring himself to break the elder’s neck, so he bit down a little, hoping that they wouldn’t press the issue if he drew blood.
The two younger ones did as Lee had said, but the older male screamed in a way that sounded almost human and crashed into Greg. The old guy managed to rip a pretty good hole into Greg’s shoulder, but the muscle was thick there and it was entirely superficial. It hurt like hell, though, and Greg turned to him.
He wanted to yell at Lee to run, to get clear. The elders likely wouldn’t be able to stop Greg with their power alone, but Lee was another matter.
He thought “Lee, run” as hard as he could and barked once, and then bit the old guy while still leaning heavily on the leader.
Finally Lee asked: You want me to leave you here?
Greg nodded desperately. He did not want to kill anyone, even if these elders had been perfectly happy to end them, and the longer this took the more likely it was that he would have no other choice.
He snapped at the male wolf again and got a grip on one of his front legs. Behind him, Lee finally went, as fast as the deep snow permitted it.
Greg growled deeply when the younger two of the pack started towards him. It was dead-lock, the wolf-equivalent of pointing a gun at two foes at the same time: The old female had no chance of throwing him off, and if he closed his jaws and broke the guy’s leg, Greg would likely cripple him for life.
Once he did that, though, there was a good chance that the other two would come at him, and then this would get really ugly.
For now, however, the standoff held: they kept their distance. Greg considered his options. They had let Lee go. Greg was bigger than either of them, but probably not strong enough to fight them at the same time.
Shit, Greg thought again. He shifted his weight, bit down just deep enough for blood to well up from the guy’s leg, and then let go in a hurry. The deep snow slowed him down considerably, but he hoped, with all his might, that the two younger werewolves would check on their pack leader first, giving him a chance to escape.
Just as Greg began thinking that it had worked, he heard the crunch of someone following him echo in the still mountain air. He did have quite a head start, though. All he could do was to keep running after Lee and pray to any god that might listen that his pursuers wouldn’t move too far beyond the border of their territory.
Greg had no idea how long he’d been running by the time he caught up with Lee. They were both breathing hard, Greg more so than Lee.
Good news, the other werewolf informed him. I’m pretty sure we’re running towards this Pierre guy.
That was indeed good news, Greg thought. He was fairly sure that Pierre would protect them. The question was if they would make it there before their pursuers caught up with them.
He and Lee took turns ploughing a path through the snow, moving as fast as their tiring muscles allowed. As dusk fell, Lee threw his head back and howled. A cry for help.
There was no answer.
Instead, as the first stars rose overhead and the air grew even colder, their pursuers came into view. Greg tried to push faster through the snow, but he had no reserves left. Lee howled again, and then faltered in his steps.
Go on, Greg heard him say.
He did consider it, for one thundering heartbeat, but stopped and stepped as close to Lee as possible, for what little protection that offered. There was no way the two wouldn’t come for him after he had injured their pack leaders, anyway.
Greg was right in that regard: They came at him first, mostly ignoring Lee. It was like fighting the mad ones at First Camp all over – they were circling around both Greg and Lee, snapping at Greg’s legs and flanks. They were better at this than the mad ones, though, and more experienced than Greg, too. One of them presented him a clear opening while the other one was behind Lee – Greg took it and realized too late that they had been waiting for him to do exactly that. Without Lee’s motionless body protecting one of his flanks, it took only two bites for the female one to lock her jaws around Greg’s hindleg and crush the bones just above his paw.
Greg staggered around on three legs, snapping at her muzzle, but she had already retreated, and her partner used his distraction to push him over. Greg tried to roll with it, but with one paw not supporting his weight, he took too long to get up. The female one jumped for his throat and bit down –
A distant howl shattered the silence of the winter night. What few birds had remained in the mountains over the winter screamed and rose all at once from where they’d been hiding in the trees when the wave of magic crashed over them. The two wolves about to rip Greg’s throat out backed off and whined.
And then they ran.
Greg let his head sag into the snow. All would well. Pierre was here. They were safe. Then he blacked out.