Silvermoon. A Tale of a Young Werewolf. A YA Novel. 12-18 (14 page)

He cursed the human he had just killed, or half-killed, it didn’t matter anyway, the snow would cover her quickly and the cold would do the rest. He did feel some guilt though, humans were not his enemy, but it wasn’t his fault, she had seen too much as he removed his mask. His face still hurt where it had swelled out, he felt the cuts where the mask had caught in his flesh. Because of the cold he had changed his form involuntarily; it was his first time as a human and that for over five long years. Ingrid had called out as she saw his fangs and his distorted features. He’d tried to quieten her as she called for the others and lost hold of her as they struggled because of his mittens.

After chasing her he caught her easily when she stumbled. He’d grasped her by the throat and held onto her until she collapsed. He’d thought it best to hide her somewhere and if he managed to change back he could return to the others saying he had lost sight of her. But he knew they wouldn’t believe him and he felt his goblin form was with him forever. After a while, he felt his strength fading, he dropped her onto the snow and decided to leave her there.

He felt weary, he wanted to sleep and the cold slowed him down and he must find home, and soon. If the others found him they would imprison him, hurt him or even kill him. He recalled the instructions about the pathways over the hills and around the lake, but now he could cross the lake in safety in its frozen state. As he had left, it was one shimmering place of death. Many a goblin had slid down its grassy slope into its cold and callous embrace in the dark and drowned. He shivered at the thought as he s
truggled on in the fading light.

H
e stumbled and fell over a carcase, an animal, a calf or something. The animal stirred, he brushed away the snow and pulled back the fur. He didn’t recognise her at first, it was less than a year ago near the woods by the college and she was in human form then, now she looked old and ugly and she had put on weight. He pulled her to a sitting position. “Hello sister, what happened to you, I heard someone stole the rune stone, I guessed it would be you, father will be pleased.”

Reega came round slowly and focussed on his face. “Jorgul, is that you?”

‘Jorgul’
he hadn’t heard that name in years, it had been ‘John’. ‘John this and John that’, now he was home and it would be Jorgul once again, he grinned, baring his fangs and asked her, “What happened to you, where’s the rune stone, show it to me?”

“I haven’t got it, I did have it, but
he
took it from me.”

He glanced around quickly and
then back to his sister. “Who do you mean, who is this ‘he’?”

“You were not part of his plan, but you know of him, he is the one with the silver tongue, the one who found us a home here in the hills. My troll and I were taken by surprise at the Rune House. I managed to obtain the rune, but Burr, my faithful troll, died at the hands of the elves and I had to make my way home on foot.”

He pulled his twin sister to him. “Burr, not Burr, oh
,
those wicked and deceitful peop
le, poor Burr, I shall miss him
dearly. You know that if I had known I would have joined you.” He helped her to her feet, her features creased in pain. “Are you badly hurt?”

“My head hurts. I may have ruptured something. That treacherous swine had a punch that would have downed a troll.”

“Do you know the new path home, I could recall this one, but I don’t know the one leading across the lake?”

“Yes, across the frozen water, I will show you, we must follow the track to a fourth inlet, a frozen stream will guide you there, but everything has been altered because of the weather and the path from the lake is at the second inlet, then - .”

She stopped as an arrow thudded into her chest.

Jorgul turned in alarm and
ducked involuntarily as another
shaft zipped by and took Reega in the throat.

She fell to her knees, gurgling, pulling at the feathered shaft protruding from underneath her chin.

He saw a shape approaching, running along the path he had made, he saw a flash of steel and watched mesmerised as a dark and feral form flew through the air, its arm outstretched, pointing a long knife at him. He felt nothing until the thing bumped into him with a force incomparable with its size
, knocking backwards, leaving him sprawling in the snow
.

The creature
must have been a werewolf in human form, not as deadly or as fas
t as the changed one they said, but deadly enough. He di
dn’t realised how fast and how deadly until the creature pounced upon him and plunged the blade deep into his chest repeatedly in a frenzied attack as he lay there. He stared into venomous eyes as the knife rose and fell, and he recognised his school friend, Yvette. Then the vision slowly dissipated and deafness and darkness came as his lifeblood left him.

Jason watched in silence, he had just seen Jennifer shoot two arrows in quick succession, bringing the furry creature down, and then he saw John, recognisable by his clothing, nearby. Yvette had left his side and moved at an incredibly speed holding her knife
before her as she leapt and flew through the air as straight and true as one of Jennifer’s arrows. He saw John fall under the impact and watched as his werewolf sister jumped on him and stabbed him repeatedly.

He made his way with Jennifer and they both stopped as Yvette raised her head and howled. He had a sudden impulse to join in. He could smell blood, goblin blood, his senses told him. He looked around at Jennifer and saw the glint in her eyes, he saw death there too, she had killed a goblin, and
,
as she said, she had also killed a troll.

As if in conclusion to the goblin’s deaths, it started snowing
heavily
. The cadavers were covered in seconds. Yvette came to them, she handed Jennifer her two arrows and said, “I’ve cleaned them.”

The manner in which she said it astounded him, here was this d
elicate creature, half his size,
who had downed a transformed goblin and killed him in seconds. She’d handed over the arrows,
cut from the
cadave
r and washed clean in the snow
as if she was referring to common cutlery.

Jennifer took them and dropped them into her quiver. “Thanks, that was a neat
job;
I knew werewolves were fast but…”

She let her voice trail off, the compliment understood as Yvette nodded and looked up at Jason. “I am sorry Jason, we should have shared the kill, but I thought it expedient to dispatch him quickly, I wasn’t sure of your feelings for him.”

He answered in a daze, “John! Yes, John was my friend. He was your friend and Ingrid’s too.” He shrugged and raised his arms. “This is crazy, how did all this start, can’t we live in peace with these creatures?”

Jennifer walked off towards the two snowy mounds and dropped to her knees.

Yvette moved closer to him and touched his cheek with her fingers. “My dear, Jason, dear innocent, Jason, these creatures do not want peace, the elves have warred with them for centuries. They want nothing more than to kill all the elves. If it wasn’t for us the elves would have been slaughtered long ago when the goblins numbered millions. We came to their aid and in gratitude they gave us long life.” She glanced behind her
at Jennifer. “The goblins would have
the upper hand
by
possessing
the rune stone. It was our duty to retrieve it, the killing of those two was already written, and they knew what would face them if they were caught.”

Jennifer appeared through the snowy curtain, they sensed her despair before they heard her voice, “Chanteline is not there. The stone is gone. That was Reega, but she doesn’t have the stone anymore. Somebody must have taken it.”

Yvette roared, a loud and horrific sound coming from someone so small, then her eyes gleamed yellow and her body swelled out underneath her clothing as she panted.

Jennifer touched her shoulder and said, “Not yet, not yet, the time will come, Swiftfoot, we must find support first.”

Slowly, Yvette’s form ceased to swell and her breath slowed down to normal.

Jason stared at his sister wide-eyed. She looked at him sheepishly and said, “So sorry, I am a little short of my temper as of late. I am the repentant girl now.”

Jason put his arm around her. “You are not alone, Ingrid is my friend too.” He turned to Jennifer. “Maybe this female goblin wasn’t alone and the stone is now with the enemy.”

Jennifer said as she shouldered her bow, “We must journey farther North, there should be a werewolf enclave in the mountains somewhere, not too high up and they will help us.”

Lucas knew he was being fo
llowed, he knew also that she was one of his kind;
a female of course,
as
they always sent females to spy out the enemy. He couldn’t dispose of her though, if he
managed to kill
her they would send more, which would complicate things. He had to disappear, without her finding out she had been discovered.

His hand touched the satchel slung over his head and shoulder, he had what he came for. He thought of all the planning down to the last detail, with Jorgul, Yvette and Jason, pawns in his hands, but luck had smiled on him and now he could proceed without worrying about the rest of his plan, which was reliant on other beings and unreliable factors.

He thought of the two goblins, Reega and poor stupid Jorgul, he had promised him he would make them king and queen of all the elves. He thought Jorgul’s
renegade sister Raylin and her people
who wished for peace with the elves and werewolves. He knew of the ancient oracle-
Neither elf, nor werewolf, can bring silence to the forest.
Which in fact pointed to something else,
Not elf, not werewolf, - but a combination of both”,
was the answer to this riddle, but he had put an end to that.

No, there could never be peace, peace was for fools. He laughed to himself at the memory, he gloated over his ingenuity. It was he who had successfully spread a rumour amongst the elves and his own people, stating that elven blood was poisonous to a werewolf, saying he had seen it happen with his own eyes.

This “myth” was almost proven false when Lengowyn, now a leader of the local werewolf tribe, who found, when he was a youth, a wounded elf one day in the forest and had foolishly “contaminated” himself with its blood. He told his people of this amazing occurrence and he, Lucas, had convinced him it had been an elven ‘Halfling’, part elf, part human whose blood had been diluted in the process and was not harmful.

The last thing he wanted was some werewolf-elf creature spoiling his plans. He came to a stop and looked up at the ridge of rocks towering above him, his cave lay on the lee side of it, easily accessible from below, but he had to shake off his pursuer before he returned there. He reached up and started to climb, the rocks were slippery with ice and the wind buffeted him from the right and would do so for the whole climb. He toiled on upwards and paused only when he reached the top. He glanced below and saw a shape scurry towards the bottom of the ridge. He smiled and continued, balancing precariously on the narrow ridge.

His journey continued upwards as the ridge rose slightly. As it reached a peak it descended once more. Lucas
squatted down and peered over the
top of the ridge peak. He waited. There she was, yes, he was right, a female. He could make her out through the snow that flew across the ridge and fell gently on the lee side. He moved out of sight and continued downwards.

The ridge rose once more and after he reached the top he made haste downwards. As he reached a certain spot, recognisable by an out-jutting piece of stone, he turned with his back to the wind and stepped off the ridge. This was no desperate attempt to lose his pursuer. He had practiced this in broad daylight, during the absence of snowfall. He knew exactly how far this first step must be, too short and his body would shatter on the rocky surface, too far and he would miss the deep snow that now rushed up the meet him and land in the valley.

He hit the surface cleanly, feet first and plunged into the soft snow. He tensed his stomach muscles as he travelled deeper and lifted with his feet, curving his body. This action brought him nearer to the surface and as it did so he dropped his arms, which until now, he had held above his head. Out of pure instinct, and of course practice, he knew exactly where he was as his body came to a halt and he trampled the snow beneath him and moved forward with a swimming motion.