Wolf's-own: Weregild (3 page)

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Authors: Carole Cummings

BOOK: Wolf's-own: Weregild
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"I'm not quite certain that's your concern,” she told him, her own tone deliberately even and unruffled. “Or mine. Perhaps you'd best ask Fen."

Joori turned his head from his scrutiny of his brother, stared at Yori for several strides, then waved a hand vaguely over toward Fen, said, “Pardon me for a moment,” and he walked off.

Damn. Yori wished she could warn Fen, and apologize in advance for apparently setting his brother on him, but.... Well, maybe it would make him stop dragging that stupid cart for a little while, at least. Joori was right about that—Fen looked like shit.

Deliberately, Yori looked away, sent a glance ahead and to all points, scanning the shadows, but if anything was going to come at them, she was fairly certain she wasn't going to see it before it saw them, not tonight. No moons, a low-hanging fog, and trees bloody everywhere. She'd have to rely on Shig and Malick twigging in time. Anyway, they were halfway home, and nothing had happened so far, and she had more magic at the Gates to look forward to.

Biting back a bit of a sigh, Yori ignored the steadily rising sound of Joori's voice as he chastised his brooding brother, tried to ignore her numbing toes with rather less success, and tucked her hands up under her cloak to warm her fingers. If there was trouble, she'd need them flexible. Although, she mused, trying not to snort as Joori's voice rose again, and the sound of the dray's wheels on the road ceased abruptly, perhaps any trouble that might come wouldn't be from anything lurking out there in the dark.

Then again....

"Yori, look sharp!” Malick snapped as he flew past her, sword drawn and stalking ahead, a hot welter of power like she'd never felt in her life nearly swatting her aside when he brushed her arm. Had that come from
Malick
?

Body moving before she even told it to, Yori swung her bow around and nocked an arrow, feet planting themselves into an offensive stance, even as she squinted ahead in the direction Malick was striding. Trees and more trees, shadows and more shadows, and she'd been looking right at them only a second ago, but now... well, bloody damn. Now they were
moving
. And not in any way people moved—at least not people with bones beneath their skin. Vague man-shapes then hunched... somethings. It was fascinating and revolting all at the same time, and she hadn't even got a good look yet. She wished for a flash of lightning, just so she could see what the hell they were dealing with.

She spared a quick glance behind her, taking in the configurations, so she'd know if things got messy. Fen had shoved all of his siblings behind him. Morin and Caidi both huddled in the cart with Joori between them and his brother. Samin still stood behind the dray, sword drawn, watching Malick, and Shig had turned to face the rear, bright head atilt in the way it did when she let her own magic loose, seeking. Satisfied, Yori turned back, eyes flicking back and forth between the smoky curls of... whatever they were farther up the road and Malick as he stalked up to them, planted himself mere paces away, and drew himself straight. Threatening. Frightening in a way she'd never seen him before. Powerful.

"Three of you?” he taunted, swinging his sword lazily in a figure eight about his shoulders, smirking. “That's all?"

Rolling hisses gathered from the writhing murk as it wound into three distinct shapes then fanned out again.

"No,” Shig called from behind. “There's more."

Yori glanced back again, just long enough to see more of them pooling to either side of the dray, like twisting pieces of the stormy sky, thrashing themselves into shapes she almost recognized but couldn't quite settle in her head yet.

"Fucking Husao,” Malick muttered, jaw clenched. “Manipulative prick. Whatever you see,” he called, voice deep and resonant, almost eager, like he was looking forward to whatever was coming, “remember that it's all glamour. They're only maijin. They bleed and die just like everything else."

Terrific
, Yori thought sourly,
good to know
, then sucked in a long breath and sighted down.

* * * *

It had to be Husao, Malick concluded, or Vonshi, or whatever Husao was calling himself at the moment. Malick watched the shapes take on substance, hunched beasts vaguely wolfen, snarling through slobbering, jag-toothed maws. They were still on Asai's lands, which made these Asai's creatures, but Malick had been covering all his people since they stepped foot out the Girou, and Husao and Umeia were the only ones who knew they were coming. Even if Husao hadn't told Asai directly, that split second when he'd dropped his protections over Fen's brothers and sister might have been enough for Asai to have twigged. And the wolf-shapes... just too damned obvious. Arrogant fucking prick.

Malick sneered.

He could strip away all their glamours, but he didn't want to give himself away if he didn't have to, and it wouldn't necessarily stop them from attacking, anyway—they weren't after Malick himself, after all, and they couldn't touch him even if they were. He could veil his own people and walk right past the threat, except his veil wouldn't work on Fen, he'd be exposed, and Malick didn't know for certain to whom these maijin answered. None but Wolf's-own could touch Wolf's Untouchable, but if even a single one of them
was
Wolf's.... And Asai was smart—he'd have thought of that.

"Shit,” Malick muttered, keeping his eyes on the creatures as he turned his head a little to call over his shoulder, “Fen? Don't get excited, all right?” then he sent his veil to Joori, Morin, and Caidi, heard Fen cry out a little when they disappeared in front of him, but Samin was rumbling something at him, so Malick had to hope he wouldn't do anything stupid. “Shig, I need you up here.” Well, he didn't
need
her up here, but touch just made it easier, and why expel more power than he had to? Shig didn't employ her usual ambling,
I'll get there when I get there
gait, but was at his side inside three breaths. Malick reached out with his free hand and latched onto her arm, let her magic curl in through his palm, and found Joori.
Take them out of the cart,
Malick told him
, and bring them over here behind me.
He felt the alarm, the confusion, the anger, and cut through it:
No time for angst and avarice right now. Do as I tell you and your family will live. Stay there and stare, and your brother will throw himself in front of every one of these things to protect you.

"You're
Temshiel
,” one of the creatures growled, guttural and garbled through a throat and mouth not meant for speech. Another made a quick dive for the dray, prancing back with a leering grin as Fen's knives just missed its nose. Teasing. Taunting.
Playing with its food
, Skel would have said.

"Kamen,” the one in front of Malick rumbled.

Shit. Whoever this was, he or she knew him. Which meant Asai would know before the night was through.

"Uh-huh,” Malick replied easily. He flipped the handle of the sword in his palm and grinned. “And you're apparently exactly as smart as you look, and don't choose your allies very well. But don't worry—you won't be regretting it for long."

Something like a graveled growl, thick and wet, and the loose circle of shadowy not-wolves snorted through soggy muzzles. Bodies curled in and tightened the loose ring, long jaws pulling back in feral grins before the one in front of Malick morphed again. Wet fur turned to gleaming scales, multihued beneath a metallic matte as teeth became barbed fangs, paws became rough talons.

"Ooh.” Malick blew out a soft whistle. “D'you breathe fire too?"

"The earth-bound,” it hissed. Like it really did expect Malick to just shrug and hand it what it wanted.

Malick shook his head, still grinning, and slipped his hand once again to Shig's arm, said, “Sure. But you'll have to get through his brother first,” and sent,
Move your bloody ass—hurry
, to Joori at the same time.

Joori was already moving, but the prod quickened his pace. Fen seemed to have taken Malick literally and lunged at the closest of the man-sized pseudo-wolves, knives whirling, and face set in all too familiar rage. Malick did the same. He waded into the thick of the three before him, and watched out the corner of his eye as Joori swept his little sister onto his hip. Joori shoved Morin ahead of him, angling between Fen and Samin as he led them through the small pocket of calm in the middle of the abrupt melee. Just in time too; every one of the creatures that wasn't already engaged with either Malick or Fen went driving in for the dray, apparently assuming their quarry was still there.

"Keep down!” Malick called to Joori, then he swung his sword around, satisfied when it hacked through rigid scales covering a long neck, before he glanced again to make sure Joori had obeyed. Yori's bow was twanging, and she wouldn't be able to see Joori and the others if they got in her way. “Fen, I've got them,” Malick called, then, “Yori, shoot high—go for the eyes,” just in case, as Fen's siblings made their way to a huddled knot behind Malick, as close to the ground as they could get without actually crawling.

Shig liberated a knife from one of Malick's sheaths, but seemed to be concentrating mostly on pulling apart the glamours, distracting the maijin as they tried to maintain them. Samin and Fen simply engaged. Samin had gone out of practice with the sword, but it seemed all the sparring with Fen had done him some good; he swung the thing in wide, efficient arcs, wounding whatever was in his path with each blow. Fen was doing what Fen did—nothing more than a whirling flash of metal in the dark as he placed himself staunchly between the things and his siblings where they hunched behind Malick.

Malick parried a set of long, black talons with a sweeping drive, then lunged in right up close with a brutal swipe at a scaly thigh. The satisfying sensation of flesh and meat parting beneath his blade wound up through steel and into his palm. Grinning at the creature, Malick waggled his eyebrows, said, “I've always wanted to be a dragon slayer,” then flipped the sword up into his palm and drove it down, just so. It sank in just below where a clavicle would have been. Malick kept the plunge shallow, remembering only at the last second that to actually kill any of these creatures would mean his soul. Even as he pulled back, thrashing talons swiped out across his midsection, slicing easily through cloak and shirt, but only striking dull sparks from the mail underneath.

This was why maijin shouldn't play with glamours. They got too caught up in what they were projecting to remember they weren't actually as invincible as the things they pretended to be. Malick's sword sank again through the scales just as easily as it did through flesh. And maijin bled just as red.

A feral, hissing shriek turned to an angry scream as Malick took advantage of the creature's distraction and stripped its glamour away. He found himself staring down into eyes gone from cat-slitted yellow to just plain hazel. “Aw, shit,” he muttered. “Leu, what the hell were you
thinking
?"

One of Wolf's, as he'd suspected, but he hadn't suspected her. He'd always thought Leu was smarter than this. Shouts and hisses and low, rolling screeches were going on all around him, and all he could do was look at Leu as her mouth moved, blood dribbling out over her chin as she hung in his grip, gaping at him, long, shiny haft-less spikes dropping from her hands and falling to the mud, useless. Malick slid the sword loose from where he'd lodged it in her between her ribs, only watched as she stumbled back, gasping, trying to draw in breath and choking on blood. He must've hit a lung. It would hurt like hell for a while and make it hard to breathe, but she'd live. Good thing too, or he might've just fucked himself without even thinking.

Enough. He was going to end up accidentally killing one of them and burning for it, or one of his people was going to end up hurt. Malick dragged his eyes away from Leu and narrowed them over at Fen. Fighting side by side with Samin, but none of them were going after Samin. Instead, they were focusing their attacks on Fen, lunging in to swipe and snap, but....

It wasn't right. Yori had dropped back, bow nocked and cocked, but the creatures were positioning themselves so that she couldn't shoot without the risk of hitting Fen. They wound themselves in front of Samin so he couldn't get through them to aid. And yet, they weren't driving in for the finish—harassing Fen, swiping to wound but not to kill, mauling him, too obviously damaging him, and accepting their subsequent slashes from his knives with angry roars and hisses. They could have had him twice just since Malick had been watching, and they'd foregone both opportunities.

They weren't all Wolf's—couldn't be. They didn't quite dare kill Wolf's Catalyst, but it seemed they were willing to risk damaging him. Things could get out of hand very quickly if they got carried away with their glamours.

Malick set his jaw, turned back to Leu, catching her as she tried to make her slow way into the trees and go to shadow. He yanked her around and leveled a swift rabbit punch to the bleeding wound he'd given her, ignoring how she wheezed a thin curse as she went to her knees.

"Call them off, Leu.” Through his teeth, and to make sure she knew he meant it, he drew his fist back again. “Don't fuck with me—I'm not in the mood."

"Kamen, I only—"

"I know why you're here, and you've already lost the earth-bound.” He took her by her collar, snapped another blow between her eyes, all knuckles, and waited for a moment while she gasped and tried to writhe away. Malick only reeled her in closer, drew back his fist yet again, and jerked his chin back toward Fen. “Maybe I can't kill you, but I can hold you down while he does.
Call
them
off
."

She believed him. Without a word, she slumped, head bowed, and shut her eyes. Only a few seconds later, the creatures surrounding Fen widened their circle, fur morphing back to flesh as they withdrew, until Fen, the cart, and Samin were surrounded by eight men and women of varying sizes and ages. All of them held double handfuls of spiked weapons, some obviously limping or clutching at various limbs in suppressed pain. One of them had a white-fletched arrow jutting from her bicep.

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