31 – Uninvited
A gentle breeze wafted through Ward’s hair, making it dance and flutter over his forehead, and the tickling sensation woke him. When he opened his eyes, he felt rested and relaxed but was slightly startled to see gray skies overhead. Where had he fallen asleep? He sat up with a grunt—his abs were a bit sore, and then looked around. He was lying on a patch of cold grass, surrounded by tumbled gray boulders and rocks. A short distance away, he saw tall evergreen-type trees and, through their high bows, the dim, yellow-white blaze of the suns as they moved toward the horizon.
“Suns,” he grunted, then looked down at his naked body. His knees were stained with mud, as were his feet, and his hands were bloody up to the elbows. The blood was old and dry, and Ward didn’t panic because he was starting to remember. He’d eaten an animal, hadn’t he? “A deer.” He turned to his left and, sure enough, saw the remains of a smallish deer. It wasn’t a great stag or anything, but judging by the remains, Ward had eaten thirty or forty pounds of meat. “How the hell…”
The thought trailed off as Ward saw his sword and clothes on a nearby boulder. He’d brought the deer back to the little hilltop to eat? Again, he looked down at himself. His stomach was slightly distended, but even so, there was no way, even with his increased appetite, that he could have put that much meat away in a single, gorging feast. He hadn’t exactly been himself, though, had he? Images flashed through his mind of black-furred arms and fingers tipped in hard, black claws as he pulled hunks of muscle from the animal's bones.
He remembered leaping on the deer, effortlessly bearing it to the ground and biting a great, gouging wound in its neck. Ward felt his mouth and teeth—normal. He’d certainly gone through more of a transformation than the first time he’d run naked out of Westview. Part of him felt like he should be abhorred, that he should be freaking out, but he wasn’t. He remembered how he’d felt as the wolf emerged, and it was glorious. He’d been enraptured by the power and freedom of it—the smells, the sounds, the tastes.
Ward stood smoothly. Even back in his normal state, he felt powerful. He was eager to see what the hemograph would say about him, but to do that, he’d need to get dressed and go back to town. He hoped it was still the same day, but he couldn’t be sure. He pulled on his pants, lamenting the loss of his underwear, then quickly finished dressing. After he buckled his sword belt around his waist, he picked up his hat and coat, then started down the hill, back toward the town.
It was all downhill, and though he didn’t feel like running, he made good time, his long legs eating up the distance. When he emerged from the forested hills, he detoured toward the road and stopped at a watering trough set up against a fence where some sheep and goats grazed placidly. He took off his coat, rolled up his sleeves, and washed the blood from his face and hands. When he straightened from the task, putting his hat back atop his head, he noticed a man with a shepherd’s crook watching him from the field.
Ward waved and called, “Hello.”
The man tipped his straw hat and then turned back to his flock. Feeling a little dismissed, Ward turned and continued back to Westview. He wondered if he’d upset the shepherd by using his watering trough to clean up. The water hadn’t exactly been clean, but Ward didn’t know enough about livestock to tell if the blood he’d washed off would make them refuse to drink. He hadn’t even considered it.
“Nah, I bet dogs, wolves, and all kinds of animals drink out of those things when the flock and shepherd are away.” He shrugged and put the thought out of his mind. Traffic was light, and when he got to the town, meandering in through one of the narrower roads without a guard station, it was almost dark. He strolled through the winding streets and had made it about halfway to the inn before a thought occurred to him, and he stopped cold in his tracks. “Where the hell is Grace?”
He spun around like he might find her there, ready to jump out and startle him, but she wasn’t there—just an old man pushing a small cart full of coal. Ward nodded to him, but the old timer hurriedly looked away and pushed his cart toward the other side of the road. “Grace?” Ward asked the empty air. When she didn’t respond, he frowned and turned, hurrying toward the high streets that made up the nicer part of town.
When he arrived at the inn, Haley jumped up from one of the couches near the big fireplace in the common room and hurried over. “Ward!”
He smiled and tipped his hat. “Worried?”
“Well, yes! Lisa’s upstairs, changing into pants and boots—we were getting ready to go out and try to track you down!”
“It’s still the same day?”
Haley looked at him quizzically, and then understanding washed over her face. She took a step back and looked him up and down. “You, um, changed?” She whispered.
Ward nodded. “Yeah. Do I look okay?”
“Your beard—looks like you haven’t shaved in a few days, but you were clean-shaven this morning.”
“But nothing permanent?”
Haley frowned, then stepped closer. “You seem bigger. Bulkier.”
Ward opened his jacket and checked the fit of his shirt. The buttons weren’t exactly straining, but he supposed she was right; it had less slack than before. “Muscle, I hope.”
“Where’s Grace?”
“I wish I knew. Haven’t seen her since I drank the potion.”
“Truly?” Haley did exactly what Ward had done out on the street; she turned in a circle as though she might find Grace lurking in one of the corners of the big common area.
“Ward!” Lisa called out from the stairs, and Ward turned to wave. She hurried over, smiling broadly. “I’m glad we don’t have to go stumbling around in the woods looking for you!”
“Well, yeah, me too. I mean, if this ever happens again, don’t do that—just wait for morning. Odds are, I’ll wake up and make my way home.” Ward sighed and gestured to an empty seating arrangement in the corner near the fireplace. “Let’s sit down and talk.” He didn’t wait for a response and led the way over, sitting in a spacious leather armchair.
“Everything all right?” Lisa asked, sitting on a small, vine-embroidered sofa with Haley.
“I’m worried about Grace. The first time I ran off, after drinking the refinement potion, I somehow—I don’t know. I somehow buried her or something. I remember shoving her aside that time, though, physically. This time, I didn’t do anything like that. I wasn’t irritated with her. In fact, we were getting along really well. I drank the potion, transformed, and then she was gone, and I was running through the woods looking for a meal.”
“How long until she resurfaced the first time?”
Ward frowned, trying to remember. “I guess I was out all night, wasn’t I?”
Haley nodded. “It was late when you drank the potion and early when I found you, however. I feel like you were gone just as long this time. Maybe longer.”
Ward groaned and leaned back, kicking his feet out and crossing them at the ankles. “Well, maybe it has something to do with the sun. Maybe she’ll be back in the morning.”
Lisa shook her head. “You’re grasping.” When Ward scowled in response, she hastily added, “I mean, we’ve no basis for that theory. Why would Grace’s presence be tied to the sun at all? Can you describe what you went through today?”
Ward sat up straight and then leaned forward so he could speak more softly to the two women. “I drank the potion, and almost immediately, I transformed. It was more profound this time, and my impression was that I took a, um, lupine form, though I’m damn sure I was bigger and differently shaped than a standard wolf. I took down a deer, bit its throat out, then carried it back to where I left my stuff.” Ward touched his sword belt. “Then I ate it—like, thirty goddamn pounds of meat. I’m not exaggerating.”
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“And then?” Lisa prompted.
“Then I laid down and closed my eyes. When I woke up, it was late afternoon, and I felt fantastic.” Ward shrugged.
“What did you feel like when you were the wolf?” Haley inquired.
“I felt powerful. I felt like I owned the forest. Honestly, the number one feeling I had was one of freedom—limitless possibilities.”
Lisa snapped her fingers. “That’s it!”
Ward arched an eyebrow. “What?”
“The wolf—your alter ego—has a much stronger sense of self than you, I think. It’s a wholly dominant persona. Grace cannot coexist in the wolf’s mind. I believe she gets suppressed, and now that you’ve further refined your lycan bloodline, that suppression is more powerful. She may struggle to arise, but I think that if you can avoid calling forth the wolf for a time, she will resurface.”
Ward nodded, folding his arms and leaning back again. In a way, he liked the idea that his mind was becoming more dominant, but, on the other hand, he’d just begun to really like Grace, and he didn’t want to harm her. Haley must have been thinking something similar because she asked, “What will this mean for Grace? If you become an incompatible host…”
She trailed off, but Ward knew where she was going with the thought. He shook his head, frowning. “I don’t know. We’ll have to ask her if—” He felt a weird, sinking sensation in his stomach as he finished, “If she comes back.”
Lisa stood and moved to kneel, somewhat awkwardly, beside Ward’s chair. She gripped his forearm and gently squeezed, her fingers cool against his hot flesh. “She will, Ward. I’m sorry you’re worried. I’m sorry I questioned her loyalty in the spire. I’m sorry—”
Ward interrupted her by clearing his throat and shifting, turning to look at her. “Hey, let’s try to keep positive. No need to confess our guilty feelings yet. Save it for a funeral.”
Lisa nodded, her lips pressed into a thin smile as she stood. “Well, on a happier note, we acquired three tickets for berths on the living ship. It arrives in three weeks and will depart five days after that.”
Haley clicked her tongue and reached into her vest, producing Ward’s pouch. “And we didn’t use all your money.” She tossed it over, and Ward caught it, noting it was decidedly lighter than when he’d left it with her. He loosened the drawstrings and looked inside—three one-thousand-glory coins. Considering he’d been afraid he wouldn’t have enough, he wasn’t upset by his reduced finances.
“Thanks.” He stuffed the pouch into his jacket next to the one containing his smaller denomination coins. “So your cousin’s contacts helped, huh?”
Lisa nodded, standing and moving back to sit beside Haley. “Yes. Bidding was light today, so much so that they saved some of the berths to auction off closer to departure.”
Ward took his hat off, setting it on his knee. “So we’ve got a month to kill, give or take?”
“Indeed. I was wondering, Ward, would you be interested in splitting the cost of a fencing tutor with me?”
“Fencing? I don’t want to learn another sword when I’ve got—”
“No, no, I misspoke. I need instruction in fencing; however, we can hire a more general master of the blade, someone who can teach us both our respective styles.”
Before Ward could respond, Haley interjected, “I already found a Gopah school.”
“Really?”
“Yes! There’s a school a block from the auction house! Lisa and I stopped in after we won our tickets.”
Ward rubbed his chin and immediately became distracted by the length of his beard—it had grown a full inch since he’d shaved that morning. He hoped it had to do with the potion and wouldn’t be something he had to contend with regularly. When he noticed the two women staring at him, he cleared his throat and nodded. “Erm, yeah, that sounds good, Lisa. Let’s make good use of our time before the ship comes.” As she smiled in response, Ward added, “I’d like to see what changed in my hemograph readings. Do either of you mind if I head up to the room?”
Haley stood and pressed her palm to her stomach. “You don’t want to get some food first?”
Ward thought about it and realized he still wasn’t hungry. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m still full. I think whatever I ate while I was…” Ward glanced around before lowering his voice, “a wolf must have gone a long way to satisfying my endless hunger.”
“Do you feel different now?” Lisa stood up from the couch as she spoke. “I mean, what about your senses?”
Ward nodded. “Sharp as hell. They already were, but,” Ward pointed to the big bay window where, outside, he could see a lamplighter going about the business of bringing all the gas street lights to life. “I can see all the way down the hill. There isn’t any real darkness to me. I can see the difference between daylight and how it is out there right now, but the shadows are more gray than black, and shit, man, the people are practically glowing. Like, holy smokes, it’s almost like I can see the heat drifting off them.”
“Fascinating!” Lisa stepped a little closer, staring up at Ward’s eyes. He felt a little uncomfortable but looked down, peering into her beautiful green irises. “Haley, do you think the golden band around his pupil is the same?”
“I think so. They don’t look different from me. They might be glowing a little more, though, but I bet that’s because of his refinement—”
“Hey, I’m right here, ladies.” Ward chuckled, shaking his head. “Anyway, you two go and eat. I’m going to go check my hemograph readings.”
“You’re sure you’re all right? I could come up with—” Ward waved his hand, cutting Haley off.
“Nah. I’m good. See you in a couple of hours.” As they nodded and waved, Ward hurried up the stairs and straight to the room he shared with Haley. Inside, he closed the door behind himself and sat at the foot of his bed, where he rifled through his pack until he pulled out the hemograph. A few minutes later, he was looking at a new readout:
Previous reading detected – Earlier values displayed in brackets.
Bloodline: Evolved Human – Aetherborn traces, Lycan prominence [manifestation], *Unknown* traces
Accumulated Mana: 400 [0]
Mana Distribution: Natural – No allocation enchantments detected
Mana Well: Tier 3 – 88% [76%] to Next tier, Enhanced regeneration minor
Mana Sensitivity: Tier 4 – Bloodline dependent
Mana Pathways: Tier 5 – Bloodline dependent, *Unknown* artifact influence detected
Vessel Capacity: Tier 4 – Bloodline dependent
Vessel Durability: Tier 3 – 27% [2%] to next tier, Enhanced healing – notable [moderate], Enhanced Bone Density – Moderate
Vessel Strength: Tier 3 – 58% [5%] to next tier, Enhanced physical power – notable [moderate]
Vessel Speed: Tier 3 – 11% [Tier 2 - 94%] to next tier, Enhanced reflexes – moderate
Longevity Remaining: 80% – Tier-3 depletion rate (approximate)
Anima Heart: Tier 1 – Closed, Pathways detected
Anima: Nil
Ward stared at the numbers until they began to fade, trying to make as many conclusions as possible. He’d somehow gained mana. Had it come from the potion or, and Ward felt this was more likely, had it come from when he’d killed and eaten the deer? Something in his gut told him it was so. Something about the act of hunting as a werewolf had triggered some natural gathering of mana, much the way Haley could gather it by doing Gopah.
Just as interesting, it seemed the potion hadn’t touched his other bloodlines—all it had done was push his lycan bloodline into “prominence.” Even so, his other bloodlines were still there, so it seemed likely that he could still improve them. “If I wanted to,” he muttered. He still wasn’t sure about that. His enhanced healing and physical power had improved. His speed had ranked up to the third tier. Everything that could improve with mana cultivation had done so, which meant it didn’t matter to his “vessel” where the mana came from.
All in all, the report gave him hope; nothing seemed negative about it. Ward closed the hemograph with a click, and as he did so, his ears literally twitched as he heard another soft click from the direction of the door. He narrowed his eyes as a deep rumble emerged from his chest. “Haley,” he called, “forget something?”
He knew it wasn’t Haley. He could hear heavy breaths—male breaths. Ward stood and drew his sword, and then the door burst open, and a large, bearded man wearing a heavy leather, high-collared trenchcoat stepped forward with a blunderbuss leveled at Ward. “Get the fuckin’ safe,” he growled, then the gun boomed. Ward’s reflexes were incredible; anyone would give him an A for effort in his attempt to dodge that fiery payload, but he’d just tensed his leg muscles and begun to leap to the side when hot balls of lead pounded into his stomach, side and right arm.
The bullets ripped through his coat, perhaps slowed a little by the thick fabric, then tore through his shirt and flesh and dug their way into his muscles and bones. Ward’s vision went red with fury—he felt no pain whatsoever. He crashed into the bedpost with a grunt, shattering the wood. Something felt different about his sword; it was light and small in his hand, and when he whirled on the shooter, the man blanched, dropped his gun, and fumbled for a hatchet hanging from his belt.
Ward was on him, though, hacking the sword downward at the crook between the fellow’s neck and shoulder, right where his high cowl flared up from his coat. As the sword bit through the leather, flesh, and bone, splitting him to his mid-chest, hot blood sprayed on Ward’s face, and he roared his outrage—the sound rattled the windows. The man was dead, but Ward wasn’t done with him. He grabbed his face with one huge, clawed hand and drove him against the wall, smashing him into the wood repeatedly.
Paintings fell from the walls, boards cracked and split, and blood sprayed in a starburst pattern over the wall as the invader’s skull gave way. Ward let the body flop to the ground, and that’s when he heard retreating footsteps. He looked toward the door, his vision still hazy and tinged with red, and saw two more men running toward the stairs, the one in front carrying the room’s small safe. How had they loosened the bolts so quickly? The thought was fleeting; Ward charged toward them with one thing on his mind—killing.
In three bounds, he caught the guy in the rear, raked his long claws—he’d left his sword inside the dead man’s chest—down his back, ripping four long gouges through his leather coat and flesh. The fleeing fellow screamed, then turned, falling onto his back, scrabbling away from Ward. He held a brass and green-glass contraption in his hands and, with panicked, shaking hands, he did something to it. Ward reached down to slap it out of his hands, but before he could do so, it burst in a flash of brilliant green light, and Ward’s world went dark.