Banewolf (Dark Siren Book 2) (10 page)

Kalista was alone. Barefoot in a frozen field, she stood listening to sounds of slaughter in the valley below. She looked behind her. The army would return soon. For months, they had campaign
ed against a horde of barbarians pressing the northern borders of the homeland. Kalista closed her eyes and could almost hear approaching hoof beats. They would not arrive soon enough. Her feet started running.

It took forever t
o reach the valley. But as she surged through the trees, a sight more horrible than she could have ever imagined greeted her. The people…they were all dead…or dying. Men wearing strange bronze masks carried torches as they rode amongst the carnage. Her stomach made a sickened twist when the masked men began setting bodies on fire.

The voice of a youngling caught her attention. Crying for his mother, his small hands clutch
ed desperately at the garments of a dead woman. Her heart ached so deeply for him, she feared her chest might rupture.
Rion.
She ran to the boy. Dreading a masked rider might see him, she would not call out.

“Mommy!” Rion kept trying to rouse his mother, shaking her with his tiny fists. A mixture of mud, tears, and blood covered his skin and clothing. “Mommy, please get up.”

A horse screamed. Kalista stopped. One of the riders had turned and was headed straight for the boy. He would reach him first.

She brought her hands together. A tunnel of grey flames came forth by her demand. The fire swirled, climbed higher until it formed a barrier between the boy and the masked rider. Neighing shrilly, the
horse leaped back from the heat.

“Blyjourse,”
she whispered, commanding the flames to stay in place. Scooping Rion up in her arms, she turned to run but was unsure of where to go. Everywhere was burning. Masked horsemen were all over the valley. More were coming to finish the slaughter.

She thought of the special place. Only Rhane would know to look there. Clutching the boy to her tightly, Kalista ran
across the frozen earth as fast as her legs could carry her. She shielded Rion’s face from their gory surroundings. No child should have witnessed such horror.

Directly ahead, she spotted a charred mass of bodies. Just as she would have passed it, something
within the mass moved.
Did someone else live?

Checking to be certain it
was safe to stop, Kalista dropped to her knees. “Keep your eyes closed,” she whispered firmly to Rion. “I’m going to sit you down. Listen for me. I will not leave you.”

The child’s lowered lip trembled, but he nodded and obediently kept both eyes shut.

Kalista moved cautiously toward the pile of burnt villagers. There it was again. Movement. Rolling the body aside, she gasped. Beneath it was a boy close to her son in age. How he had escaped death was lost to her. She patted his cheek gently. “Orrin.” She repeated his name until at last, the boy’s eyes opened.

“Where is my brother?”

She shook her head. “I do not know.”

Despite the devastation surr
ounding them and the trauma he had no doubt endured, the boy’s voice was steady. “What has happened?”

She answered his question with
one of her own. “If I get you out, can you walk?”

Orrin nodded. Gritting his teeth as
he climbed to his feet, the boy’s bravery lingered even as he looked upon the lifeless remains of those he had loved.

“It is not safe. We must move quickly.” She picked up Rion again and ran with Orrin close behind. The trees were only a few hundred yards ahead when she heard the snort of an animal over her shoulder. There was only a moment to react. Shoving Orrin aside into a nearby stone dwelling, Kalista dove in behind him. Seeing a riderless horse go by, she breathed a sigh of relief.

As Orrin started to creep toward the open door, she grabbed his shirt to stop him. “Wait.”

A co
mmanding voice had entered her mind.
Darkesong, daughter of Whytetree, what
have you done?

“This is not my burden,” she said.

You craved their souls. Now you have them. By your hands, prophecy has been fulfilled.
The child with bane eyes has brought death to his people.

That feeling…was it her heart breaking?

Come out, daughter.

Cautiously,
Kalista emerged from the shelter with Rion still in her arms. Orrin followed eagerly. Then she and the boy dropped slowly to their knees. It was a sign of respect, to kneel before a Prime. They were the oldest and wisest kin of the royal families, honored leaders of Warekin society.

The huge white wolf regarded the trio with glacier blue eyes.
Did the little ones see what
has happened?

“Yes, Ptolen, they saw.”

There was a weighted pause. Drums of the approaching army were very close now.

There isn’t much time. The younglings must die.

With a thought, wings of fire enfolded Kalista and the children. But the white wolf leapt through the blaze, jaws open and claws outstretched. A blur of movement shot from behind Kalista. It was Orrin. Silver dagger drawn from his boot, he charged at the wolf. She screamed for him to stop, but it was to no avail. Just when she thought the boy was lost to Ptolen’s fangs, Orrin feinted left. Tucking into a roll, he brought the dagger’s point across the wolf’s hide. A trail of red appeared in the snow-white fur. Ptolen turned. Snatching the boy up with a furious snarl, he shook his little body like a ragdoll. Kalista felt control slip away.

The earth began to quake. Darkness opened up a hole in forest.
Her fire burned black and exploded, expanding like a dying star until it engulfed the entire valley. When it receded, the Prime lay still. His life blood seeped into the surrounding earth.  His breath came in shallow gasps.

She stood over
the wolf, watching Ptolen’s translucent blue eyes stare up at her harshly.

Regret welled inside of her. Kalista took no pleasure in what had to happen next. Closing her eyes, she stretched out her hands above the singed fur as if to touch it.

A final thought came from the Primes who had once been a source of guidance, of greatness and wisdom.
He will not forgive you.

“I’m sorry.” 

Fire erupted from her hands, burning so hot the flames became as white as the wolf that was consumed. And when Ptolen was no more, the fire returned to her.

Kalista looked up, her eyes inexplicably drawn to the tree line. Another figure in white sat at the edge of the forest. A Prime…and he had witnessed what she had done.

In the distance, the rumble of the army’s horses drew nearer. The crouching figure turned its head toward the sound and then back to Kalista. It was time to run.

Over one shoulder and across the chest, Bellefuron was flipped and twirled between deft fingers. Sunlight glinted off the silver blade whenever an arcing slash crossed before the window. Few of the best swordsmen could have performed such maneuvers, much less do it while distracted with other things. But Rhane had been at it for the past half hour as he strode back and forth in the large room. A huge decision weighted his mind and body. There was pressure to anticipate, to be prepared for every outcome. For what they were about do, a lot of things could go wrong. People he cared about could get killed.

The other kin stood by, watching him silently. York’s attention was elsewhere. More familiar with Rhane’s mind than anyone else, he already knew the decision his warlord had made. Rhane was only sorting risks and didn’t need him right now.

Warren was a different story.

The young kin stood in a corner, as far away from the others as he could get and still be in the same room. His eyes were on the floor, head bowed low and face as red as his hair. War felt responsible. Worse than that, the kid was ashamed. He no doubt blamed himself for losing Kali yet again. Rhane hadn’t said or done anything to indicate he held anyone accountable for what happened. But in a guilty mind, silence could be the worst judgment.

The pacing stopped and Rhane finally looked at them. “We’re going. York, Orrin, and Rion, with me. War, you will remain here. Call if Bailen or Kalista returns.”

There it was. He was being sidelined. War’s breath left him. If anyone had to stay behind on a dangerous mission, it should’ve been Rion. He was the youngest, the smallest, and the least accomplished fighter. “But, Rhane—” he began but stopped when he saw York stiffen from the corner of his eye.

Rhane tilted his head to
one side. Bellefuron’s sharp edge rested lightly on his shoulders. “I have given you your orders.”

“I know.” War felt his cheeks burning. Great. He probably looked as stupid as he felt. He dropped his eyes to the floor again. “I should apologize. I—”

“Warren, look at me.” He placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Afraid to face what would be in Rhane’s eyes, War did as he was told.

“I know the burden that rests on your shoulders,” Rhane said with as much mildness as he could muster. “Learn from it.”

“Yes sir.”

“We are going into an extremely volatile situation. I have to know my orders will be followed without question. Stay behind. Show me you can follow orders.”

“I will.”

Rhane squeezed his shoulder and then inclined War’s forehead to meet his. Their heads touched in the symbol of trust and friendship shared only between those of close bloodlines. “We’ll find her.”

Orrin and Rion left to
go downstairs. York lingered. Rhane paused at the door and looked back. The other man met his eyes. “I’ll catch up.”

After a moment, Rhane nodded and closed the door.

York didn’t waste time. He marched across the room, grabbed War by the shoulders and put the boy against the wall. With his face less than an inch away, he spoke. “You were really about to question your warlord’s order.”

War swallowed, keeping his eyes carefully averted. It probably wasn’t the best idea to answer a rhetorical question, so he preserved his silence.

“Rhane let you off easy. The shit you pulled last night is for children. When I give an order, you follow it. Period. You had Kali. You were supposed to take her to safety. You didn’t. Now she’s gone, and we’re about to make a deal with the devil because Rhane doesn’t think he has the resources to get the job done. Why didn’t you stay with her? What were you thinking?”

“I thought you needed my help. Gabriel—”

“Kali needed your help!”

“I know.”

York took a calming breath and stepped away. He didn’t get worked up very often, maybe twice in a decade. He was the level-headed, crack-jokes-to-ease-the-pressure kind of guy. But when smart kids like War made stupid decisions that got people killed, York’s fuse got a lot shorter.

“You were raised to
think
. You were also raised to be a soldier. What happens when a soldier in the Warekin army disobeys orders?”

“He and the commander fight until one cannot stand. The victor leads.”

“Remember that,” York said and walked away.

Outside, the others had piled into the pickup. York eyed the driver’s seat longingly. “We’re going to see Ian.”

Rhane answered though it wasn’t really a question. “Yeah.”

“How do you plan on finding him?”

“We’re going to go to where I found Kalista the last time.”

“Why? Do you think she’s killed more kindred?”

“I think we need Ian’s help.”

York sighed. Deal with the devil.

Rhane crouched low and took in his surroundings. Mostly untouched by man, the preserve was beautiful in every sense. His senses missed nothing. Dividing the area into quarters, he had commissioned Orrin and Rion to work their sections together. The two were not to allow more than three hundred yards between them. York had his own area, as did Rhane. But with the advantage of four legs, the kin would cover ground faster and were responsible for a larger part of the grid.

Glancing at his watch, Rhane got a little nervous. Over two hours had passed. He was close to being done. The others had almost certainly finished. And yet, there were no results. A Plan B existed if Ian couldn’t be found this way. But it wasn’t pretty. A frustrated growl slid from his throat.

It feels like I’ve been running in circles.

He scanned his environment warily. Everything had started to look and feel the same, especially the huge pine that stood to the east of his current position. A recent lightning strike left
the old trunk marred by an ugly, black scar. Either there were two just like it or Rhane had passed the tree twice.

“I’m losing it.” He shook his head. “Or missing something,” he muttered.

Walking to the tree, Rhane stood at its base. He stared at his hand, channeling his concentration to imagine talons of the bane wolf extending from his fingers. It took only a second before his nails gained four inches of length and darkened in color. Smiling, Rhane dug the claws into the bark and began to climb.

About ten feet from
the top was a bough large enough to support his weight. The perch made a good vantage point to see things from a different angle, but nothing stood out at first. All appeared exactly the same from above as it had from below. Then he noticed something. His eyes wouldn’t leave the spot. And Rhane wondered how he had missed it before. He descended the tree twice as fast as he’d climbed and dead dropped the last thirty feet. Lowering his head to the ground, Rhane whistled. The earth helped carry the sound, even vibrating it through the trees with urgency.
Come to me.

A moment passed before someone answered. This whistle was deep and raspy. York.
I’m
almost done here.

Rhane whistled again.
I’ve found them.

An excited trill sounded back, already headed in Rhane’s direction.
I’m on my way.

Gather Rion and Orrin.

Rhane didn’t wait. The others would catch up easily enough. He plunged into the forest and was nearly outside the search area when he finally reached the point he’d seen from above the horizon. It started as a trickle, barely discernible through nearby brush and overgrowth. The waters gradually thickened until Rhane’s boots were splashing in a narrow stream that moved surprisingly fast for its size. Where the stream abruptly ended above ground, he stopped.

It was quite an u
nexpected change in landscape. Here, the tiny river surrendered completely to gravity, pounding a downpour into a gaping hole within the limestone. With the sound of rushing water thundering in his ears, Rhane edged closer to the opening and peered down. Another underground source joined with the stream, feeding into a huge pool at the bottom of the pit. It was maybe a hundred feet below.

Perfect.

Rhane stood up. Two figures were approaching from behind. Orrin in a larger than average skin. Rion was a smaller black wolf. A third figure came from the left—a huge, black mountain that stood as tall as Rhane’s shoulders. York.

“Lose the skins. We didn’t come for a fight.”

Rhane drew Bellefuron from the scabbard lashed between his shoulders but kept the blade lowered in a relaxed guard with both hands resting lightly on the hilt. The manner was ready but nonthreatening. The other kin, fully human now, flanked his sides.

They didn’t have to wait long.

Down below, shadows scurried about in the pit. They were phantoms moving silently within the water’s intrinsic light. Rhane backed away from the mouth of the cave. York, Orrin, and Rion followed his lead.

Four very human looking creatures emerged from the cavern. Water drained from their bodies as they passed through the falls and came topside. Not one of them wore
a single scrap of clothing. Wild, reddish irises glimmered in the fading light as their gazes darted in all directions, resting nowhere for more than a second.

Two of the kindred were huge, nearly as tall as York. And these guys had muscles carved from granite and outlined in steel. They were moving, breathing rocks. Three of them Rhane did not recognize. The fourth was Ian.

“I will never be cozy with the nudity,” York muttered.

The alpha stepped forward. “Banewolf.”

“Ian.”

“I must confess wonder at seeing you so soon. The time has not arrived for you to repay your debt. What brings you to my doorstep?”

No point in beating around the bush. “I am a warlord in exile. My army is small and mostly untried in battle. But we face an enemy with resources whose limits are unknown and motives are unclear. I need more manpower for this fight.”

“Indeed.” Ian’s eyes flitted right and then left. “The situation must be dire for you to ask for my help...a request that would further indebt Banewolf to me.” The alpha took a step closer. York tensed.

“Yes. The situation is dire.”

“Why should I help you? Your kind once hunted and killed my brothers until we neared extinction. Sparing the siren has already guaranteed what I require of you.”

“Do you simply want a favor, Ian? Or would you prefer to have an ally?”

In a distorted blur, Ian moved like a striking serpent and suddenly stood behind them. York whirled in the same instant. A warning growl ripped from his throat.

Another growl slid from Rhane. But it was one meant to soothe.
Relax.

Ian smiled with dark satisfaction at the exchange. “But as you have said, your army is small and…untested. Of what use is it to me?”

“I meant the bane wolf.”

Ian’s eyes widened and then narrowed suspiciously. “You would be my ally?”

“We have common enemies.”

“Gabriel?”

Rhane nodded.

“Rogues?”

“Yes.”

Ian’s smile returned. “Very well then, Banewolf.” He gestured to the granite pair. “Mykelti and Darwin are two of my strongest soldiers. Take them. They will follow your orders as if I myself had commanded them.”

Though the offer was quite generous, Rhane shook his head. “I need men capable of blending into a very specific environment.”

“Oh?”

“High school.”

“Ah.” Ian nodded. His countenance was unreadable. He waved a hand at Darwin. “Send for Matthias and Ander.” His red eyes settled on Rhane again. “I believe you will find them well suited for your tasks.”

“Do I have to worry about seven foot tall trolls appearing at night? Or can they remain mimics in moonlight as you have?”

“The latter. Matthias and Ander are young but have been disciplined well.”

“Thank you, Ian.”

T
he kindred moved away, slipping soundlessly back into the shadowy pit until only their leader remained above ground. Just as he too was about to disappear, York cleared his throat. “Um…these guys you’re sending, they’ll be wearing clothes right?”

A snort of laughter started and ended abruptly from behind him. Rhane knew it
was Rion but aimed the glare solely at York. The big kin shrugged his shoulders innocently. “What? It’s a fair question.”

Ian lifted his chin. “Kindred were born from the earth and choose remain one with it. Manmade things disrupt our unity. But if the norms of human society require it, of course we will conform to fulfill Banewolf’s wishes.”

Rhane looked at York. “Are you satisfied?” York opened his mouth to answer and Rhane narrowed his eyes. “Just nod.”

Ian’s head disappeared into the cave but popped back up. “Were we almost friends once?”

He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about the alpha’s expression made Rhane nervous. He answered honestly. “Almost…until you proved I couldn’t trust you.”

Ian dropped his eyes to the ground. After a beat of thought, he raised them. His gaze was piercing. “Fifty miles northeast of here there have been a succession of unexplained fires. A scout spotted the last one nearly four hours ago. Good providence finding your siren,” he said. And then Ian was gone.