Blood Moon (18 page)

She saw nothing. It seemed she ran for
miles, and all the while the sounds behind her became louder as the
pack closed in upon her. In desperation, she began to look up at
the trees as she approached them. Being treed was the last thing
she wanted, but it began to seem it might be her only hope of
escaping the wolves.

She was so busy looking up at the trees
that she failed to see the chasm of darkness before her. When the
earth suddenly dropped from beneath her feet, she hit the ground
and began to roll, over and over. Striking a young sapling that
almost cracked a rib, she came to a halt at last, but she was too
dizzy to rise at once. When she finally managed to stagger to her
feet, she discovered that she had rolled down onto a frozen
stream.

It was wide, but she had no idea how
deep it might be. Near the center a narrow track remained unfrozen.
Looking around, she finally found a long branch and made her way
carefully to the rushing water, leading with the branch. The ice
thinned to the point that it shattered under the branch before she
got within a yard of the open water. She slipped when the branch
broke through the ice and landed on the ice so hard it cracked
under her.

Holding her breath, she stabbed at the
open water again and found that it was not nearly as deep as she’d
feared it might be. When she tried to get up, she broke through.
The freezing water snatched her breath from her lungs. She
struggled--to get up, to catch her breath, floundering in the knee
deep water until she was soaked to the skin without a dry thread to
her name.

Finally, she managed to get her feet
under her and, using the branch, levered herself up until she was
standing. At last, she managed to draw in short, panting breaths.
Her boots had filled with water when she’d fallen. With her first
step, water gushed up and out of them.

She found she could not cross. Each
time she stepped up on the ice, it broke beneath her weight. The
baying of the wolves was far more distinguishable than it had been
before she tumbled down the ravine into the stream. She wasn’t
certain of how long she had struggled in the icy slush, but she
knew it was far too long.

Turning, she began to make her way
downstream, trying to put some distance between her and the wolf
pack. When she had rounded a bend and was out of sight, she tried
once more to cross, still with no luck.

She could not feel her feet. It felt as
if she was walking on stumps, except that pain shot up her legs
each time she stepped down and her knees threatened to buckle. She
was panting so loudly by now, she had to hold her breath to listen
for sounds of pursuit, but she knew they were closing in on
her.

Frantically, she searched the edge of
the stream for a place to hide, a tree to climb. The banks were
slick with snow and ice. Here and there a small tree, perhaps as
big around as her thigh, grew, but she could not climb anything so
flimsy and it would do her no good if she could. If her own weight
did not bend it double, it would take no more than a push to bring
her down, or shake her from the precarious perch. Further up the
bank, she saw that there were larger trees, but she doubted she
could reach them in time, or climb them if she could, for she saw
none with branches low enough she could hope to grab a handhold and
pull herself up.

As she rounded yet another bend in the
stream, however, her situation went from very bad, to catastrophic.
A small, mostly frozen, waterfall blocked the mouth of the stream.
Aslyn stared at it in dismay, realizing she had trapped
herself.

She could hear the wolves behind her,
knew they’d reached the stream and were searching for her scent.
Any moment, they would discover that she had not crossed and they
would be on her. Casting around frantically, she saw that the banks
were steeper here even than those she’d already passed.

Trying to be quiet no longer seemed an
issue. She began to struggle toward the nearest bank, breaking ice
as she went, slipping, and falling. She heard them behind her
before she ever managed to reach the bank and turned, staring in
frozen horror as they rounded the bend in the stream and came into
view.

It was like a vision from hell. They
were mounted upon horses as men, but it was the eyes of wolves that
looked out at her from wolf faces and claws that held the reins.
She thought for several moments that it was a trick of shadow, or
that, perhaps, they had donned the hides of wolves. As the leader
lifted his head and bayed, however, she realized that they had
shifted into part man, part wolf.

The sound made the hair at the base of
her skull prickle and sent a shaft of panic through her. She
screamed as they leapt from the horses. Whirling, she struggled to
climb the bank. When she saw she was making no progress, she leapt
to her feet and raced mindlessly toward the waterfall. She
discovered when she reached it that the half formed intention of
climbing it was an impossibility. The water had frozen over in
flow, forming a slick curtain of ice from the top to the base,
where it had mushroomed into frozen curls. It could not be more
than eight to ten feet high, but it might just as well have been
fifty. She could find no handhold to climb.

Slowly, she turned to face the
men/beasts. They shifted as she watched, becoming men. At a signal
from their leader, they spread out across the stream. Lord Algar
grinned at her. “I’ve always enjoyed a good chase. We’ll have to do
this again sometime, just for the sport of it. But right now, we
must be on our way.”

Aslyn could only stare at him in horror
and revulsion, so frozen with fear and cold from the icy water her
jaw was locked in spasms of chills. As she stared at him, however,
too panicked to even think of how she might escape him, something
large and dark leapt from above her, landing in the stream between
her and Algar.

Dark as it was, she knew him instantly,
and hope surged through her as his men, following his lead, landed
on either side of them, spreading out across the stream as Algar’s
men had, facing the wolf men.

“Renegades, we have been
charged by High Chief, Renoir, to bring you to justice for your
crimes against
the
people
,” Kale said coldly.

Algar’s face contorted into a mask of
rage. He spat at Kale’s feet. “We do not recognize Renoir as our
High Chief any longer! We’re of no mind to obey his
laws.”

“Our
laws,” Kale corrected. “It is not your choice to decide which
laws you will obey and which you will not. You have endangered the
entire clan by your actions. You will be tried by the people for
your crimes against them.”

Algar roared. “We will face trial by
combat … now!” He dropped to the ice on all fours. Around him, his
men did likewise. As Aslyn watched, they shifted, their bodies
changing form and contour, splitting the man clothing they wore so
that she could see the fur that sprang from their skin.

Kale, too, dropped to all fours. Aslyn
stared at him a moment, then, stunned, turned to look at the men
with him. They, too, had dropped. As she watched, they shifted to
beasts all around her—wolves, bears, cats. When she turned to look
at Kale again, a large snow fox stood where he had knelt only
moments before. Almost as one, they roared a challenge at the
werewolves they faced.

Aslyn staggered back in shock as they
launched themselves into battle, roaring, swinging great paws
studded with wicked claws, their sharp teeth bared and gleaming in
the meager light the stars in the heavens offered.

Two wolves leapt upon the bear nearest
her. With a roar, the bear swatted the wolf that leapt at his
throat, sending it flying. The wolf’s head struck her shoulder in
flight, knocking her to her knees in the icy stream. The blow
didn’t hurt that badly, but it broke through her shocked paralysis
enough that she began scrambling toward safety as the battle waged
around her, wolves, bears, and cats locked in a fight to the
death.

A wolf landed, snarling, in front of
her. Even as he leapt for her throat, however, his wickedly sharp
teeth bared, a white blur collided with him. The fox’s jaws locked
on the wolf’s throat, ripping away a chunk of flesh and fur. Blood
spurted from the wound, spraying Aslyn across the face and chest.
She screamed, nearly gagging, wiping frantically at the
blood.

Whirling away, she struggled in the
opposite direction, dodging the beasts that fought all around her,
swaying, skidding on the ice as they leapt with bared teeth to rend
flesh and shatter bone. A cat crashed to the ice just to her left,
rolling with the wolf that was snapping and tearing at it. The two
combatants collided with her, knocking her down. She gasped as the
icy water splashed over her. Before she could get to her feet, the
whirling fighters caught her again.

As she scrambled to crawl away from
them a shadow fell over her. When she whirled to see the newest
threat, she discovered one of the great bears was standing over
her. Reaching down, he scooped her up with one arm, holding her
against his furry chest. She fought and clawed at the beast,
struggling to break free even as he lumbered across the ice with
her.

He dropped her onto a mound of snow as
they reached the stream bank and Aslyn whirled to flee, expecting
any moment to feel the crushing weight of his jaws, or a blow from
one of his great paws. When neither came, she spared a glance
backward and discovered the bear had turned away. He stood just
below her, as if guarding her from the battle still being waged on
the ice below her.

Aslyn hesitated, wondering if it was
safe to stay, but as she glanced out over the carnage of the
battle, fear and revulsion spawned renewed panic and she turned
away, climbing. She had no destination in mind when she reached the
top of the bank at last. She only knew she could not stay. She had
to get as far away as she could.

She had not even gained the edge of the
forest that surrounded the stream when something huge slammed into
her back. Blackness clouded her mind and sight as the impact of the
blow propelled her forward and her head cracked against something
hard and unyielding.

Chapter Fourteen

Aslyn roused slightly as she felt the
warmth of hands, turning her over, wrapping something around her.
With an effort she lifted her eyelids fractionally. Kale’s worried
face swam before her vision. Satisfied that she was safe, she
closed her eyes again, enjoying the warmth that was slowly seeping
into her frozen bones.

Dimly, she heard voices around her;
men’s voices, talking, groaning in pain; and the soft wicker of
horses, and the shuffle of hooves against packed snow. She moaned
when she was lifted abruptly, feeling pain shoot through her skull
and claw its way through her body.

When she became aware again, she
realized that she was on a horse and the warmth against her cheek
was Kale’s chest. The steady beat of his heart comforted her and
she was tempted to simply drift off again, but something nagged at
her, something that she needed to tell him. “Can’t go back. Burned
the cottage,” she mumbled with an effort.

His arms tightened around her. “I know.
I’m taking you home.”

She smiled at the word, realizing there
had never been a sweeter one, or one more cherished.

* * * *

Aslyn woke to find herself in a strange
bed. As groggy and sluggish as her mind was, she was in no doubt of
that. Blinking, she looked around the dim room in confusion,
wondering where she was, how she’d come to be there.

She discovered that Kale was propped in
the bed beside her, watching her.

She stared at him a long moment. “Where
am I?”

“Home.”

She frowned, more confused than ever.
“The cabin? This doesn’t….”

He shook his head. “Our
home.”

Aslyn sat up abruptly, discovering in
the process that she was naked. Grasping the cover, she clutched it
over her breasts. Her head swam at the sudden movement and she
lifted one hand to press it against the throbbing pain. “How? What
happened?”

Gripping her shoulders, he pushed her
gently back until she was lying with her head on the pillows behind
her. “My men and I captured the renegades and brought them home to
stand trial.”

Aslyn rubbed her head. “There was a
battle….” Her eyes flew open and she stared at Kale. “I didn’t
imagine it, did I?”

Kale frowned, a look of uncertainty
crossing his features. “No.”

“You’re….”

“A werebeast.” He lay back, staring up
at the ceiling. “I cannot undo what I’ve done, Aslyn. In truth, I
confess I feel no remorse for it, though I am sorrier than I can
say that it has been the cause of so much pain and hardship for
you.”

Aslyn turned her head to stare at him
uncomprehendingly. “I don’t understand.”

Kale rolled onto his side again.
Reaching over her, he lifted her hand and brought it to his lips.
She remembered then. It was the hand the snow fox.… Kale had bitten
her. She tried to snatch her hand back, but he held it. Rubbing the
fresh marks with one finger, he then traced the pale, white scars
beneath them.

He looked into her eyes. “I was only a
youth myself when I saw you the first time. In my eyes, I saw a
tiny princess and in that moment decided to claim you for my own. I
marked you. It was not Algar, but it was my mark that led him to
you.”