The Dark of Twilight (Twilight Shifters Book 1) (12 page)

"Are you hungry, boy?" she asked.  "I have a tasty treat for you, puppy."

She held out the berry and dropped it down.  The werewolf was in such a frenzied blood lust he snapped at it.  It seemed to go down, she thought.  She waited, wondering what was going to happen.

The change was gradual.  It did not shift him from werewolf to human, but there was a change.  Rather than leaping up at the trunk, he sat down on the ground and considered her.  His barking and snarling stopped.  His mouth opened, but this was so that his tongue could hang out and he could pant away the heat and exhaustion.

"With just one berry..." she said aloud.  She sat, wondering if she dared tempt the fates.  "Will you eat me if I come down?" she asked.

The werewolf cocked his head as if he was trying to comprehend the words coming out of her mouth.

Her horse came wandering over and placed his muzzle against the nose of the werewolf.  He gave a dismissive snort and went back to grazing.

"Perhaps I should listen to the horse," she said.  She dropped her saddlebag and bedroll onto the ground.  The werewolf sidled away, but did not lunge to attack.  This felt like a good start, she thought.  She wrapped her hands around the trunk of the tree and hug-slid her way down.  Her feet touched the earth and she braced herself for an attack.

She stood there regarding the werewolf and the werewolf stood there regarding her.

She placed the back of her hand out to the werewolf.  He stood, and then walked over, giving her a sniff, and then pushing his great, furry head beneath her fingers.  Slowly, with terror still pounding in her veins, she gave him a scratch behind the ears.  He repaid her kindness with a friendly lick.

"I do believe," she said, "that I have a new traveling companion."

S
he sat atop her horse, glancing at the werewolf which now trotted beside her as docile as one of the Lord Arnkell's hounds.  Her senses were on full alert, waiting for any sign that he might turn on her.  But for now, the most he seemed interested in chasing were butterflies.  He even paused to roll in the grass and sniff something in the dirt before running to catch up.  Still, she did not push her horse to anything faster than a walk out of fear it might trigger a chase.

The day wore on and finally, as the sun was getting close to the horizon, Aein found one of the campgrounds she and Lars had used during their travels from the stronghold.

She walked her horse into the glade.  The grass was high and would make good eating for him.  She dismounted and took off his saddle, rubbing him down before letting him graze.  There was the area they used as a fire pit in the middle. She would need to gather more wood before the sun went down and took all the light.

She looked at the werewolf, who was now staring up at her expectantly.  "We make such strange bedfellows, you and I," she remarked.  She began walking towards the trees.  The werewolf kept right at her heals, glancing in to the forest.  "Do I now have my own personal watchdog?" she asked.

She filled her arms with all the thick branches she could find lying about.  She made no move to acknowledge the werewolf, as if making contact with him would remind him she was something he should eat.  But he just followed.  When she returned to the camp and began clearing out the dirt around the pit, he came over and watched what she was doing.  And then, out of nowhere, he bumped her with his gigantic body.  She stepped away, trying not to let him see her fear.  But then he began digging with his paws, clearing away all of the grass faster than she ever could have until there was nothing there but a circle of dirt, perfect for her to begin her fire.

She looked at him.  "Thank you," she whispered.

He gave a sneeze and then lay down.  She kept eyeing him as she set up the tinder and the kindling.  She walked over to her saddlebag to get the flint.  He lifted his head from his paws to see what she was doing, and then settled back down again, closing his eyes to sleep.

She could run now, said the voice in her head.  Who knew how long this friendly transformation would last?  She knelt down and hit the two rocks together, creating small sparks which caught the tinder and started a small flame.  She blew upon it and the kindling took.  She began layering the wood upon it until a crackling fire was going.

"In the past, I used a fire to keep the animals away," she said to the werewolf.  He had fallen onto his side, soaking up the heat.  "I seem to be doing something wrong."  Aein grabbed her bedroll from the back of her horse.  Once again, the moment she stepped away from the werewolf, his head came up, as if checking to make sure all was well.  She came back with the roll and placed it upon the thick grass, chucking aside a few rocks and twigs that would make for an unpleasant sleep.  As soon as he saw her settling in, he lowered his head to the ground and began snoring.

His snoring was interrupted, however, by the sun going down.  Instead of writhing in agony, his eyes merely opened and he sat up.  Within moments, the transformation was done without pain she had seen in every animal.  He was staring at his hands in disbelief.

"Finn..." she whispered.

He looked up at her.  "I remember," he said.

She ran over to him and hugged him tightly, pressing her body against him fully.  He was strong and real and here with her.  She was not alone.

He stroked her back and whispered, "I remember.  I remember everything about this day after that moment I had you up that tree.  There was a taste in my mouth, and then I remembered everything."

"I had a berry," she said, parting from him.  "I fed you the berry and it changed you."

The smile started in his eyes, but slowly spread across his face.  Then laughter and hope bubbled up inside of him.  "There is a cure!"

She held up her hands.  "I don't know for how long.  It might be in the morning you change back into a vicious creature again."

His face fell, realizing that she was telling the truth.  "You should go," he said.  "Before the dawn.  You should put as much distance between us as possible."

They stood staring at one another in the darkness as the fire crackled.  Its flames leapt across Finn's face, a face that been there for Aein in her darkest moments, a face which had kept her alive.  A face she wanted with her.

He reached out and with the tips of two fingers, brushed back a long strand of hair which had fallen across her cheek.

She knew, though, that he was right and she had to say goodbye.

"I should sleep first," she finally said.

Silently, he took her hand and guided her down to the bedroll.  He placed her head upon his thigh, to use his leg as her pillow.  He stroked her hair and said, "Sleep.  I shall wake you in a few hours to send you on your way."

She stared into the fire, feeling Finn's rough hands gently soothing her to dreamland.  He began to hum a tune so low and quiet that she could barely hear.  She did not know when her eyes closed, but it was too soon when Finn shook her shoulder to let her know it was time. 

Groggily, she stood, rolling up her bedroll and bringing it over to her horse, who did not seem entirely happy that they had to leave, either.  Aein tied everything securely and turned back to Finn.  It felt so good, so good for just one night to be safe.  To not be hunted.  To just be with him.

His eyes were soft as he stepped in close, so close she could feel his breath.  "No matter what..." he said.  And then he lowered his mouth to hers.

Though his stubble was rough against her face, his kiss was tender and gentle, asking nothing more than just that moment, but at the same time, it felt like falling into eternity. 

As they parted, as Aein ached to stay, she knew that unless she found that bush, this was all they would ever have. 

He reached down and grabbed her shin, hoisting her up into her saddle.  "Go," he said. "I shall travel in the opposite direction until the sunrise."

She nodded, knowing that it was the right thing to do, even if she did not want to.  As she rode away, she looked back.  He lifted his fingers to his lips and held it out to her, held it until the darkness swallowed him and she could see him no more.

T
he days and nights faded one into the other.  Aein slept when she could, but would wake with nightmares of those she left behind.  She traveled until she was ready to fall out of her saddle, or until her horse refused to move another inch.  In case the transformation brought about by the berry had not lasted, she traveled when Finn would have been in wolf form.  Her path was lit only by the waning moon and she found she had to stop frequently to get her bearings.  Sometimes she would hear a wolf howling in the distance.  Each time, she prayed that it was not any of the creatures from the stronghold.  But part of her also prayed it was Finn trying to let her know that he could not leave her.

One night, she noticed a glowing light in the forest flickering like a campfire.  She pulled her horse to a stop and dismounted.  She tied him to a tree.  Though she knew she had a duty to investigate, to warn the people that there might be wolves on the prowl, there was something which told her to approach with caution.

She skulked through the undergrowth, trying to move as silently as possible.  She peered into the light, grateful that she was hidden in the darkness.  Lying around the fire were forty enormous werewolves. 

But each of them wore a silver harness which wrapped around their necks and legs.  None of the werewolves moved, but all forty shifted their eyes towards her.  One tried to stand, but fell with a whimper as if the silver harness weighed a thousand pounds.

Around the fire were the bedrolls of another forty men.  They, too, each wore the same silver harness as the werewolves.  Four men were awake, eating hungrily off of metal plates.

"We should be back to the stronghold next week," said one man.  He ran his hands across his beard stubble and spat upon the ground.  "I thought when Lord Arnkell led us out through that cave, we'd never see home again.  Revenge for what that princess did to us is going to taste sweet."

"She will pay."

"But what if her father comes?" asked one of the soldiers.

"We are an army now," the first replied.  "Just as Lord Arnkell said.  All of Haidra's men should be dead by now.  We'll get ourselves new recruits from any survivors and then we take over the Haidra lands, just as he promised.  We'll teach that family to put curses on us."

Aein slinked back, her heart pounding.  She wiped her face with her hands.  All of her people were hiding themselves away in those cells for each other's safety.  They would be sitting ducks.  It would be a massacre.

One of the werewolves whined.

"Come on, now, Fuller," said the man to the dog.  "I know the harness is uncomfortable, but you'll tear us from limb to limb if I let you go."

Aein knew the werewolf was whining because he smelled her and was longing to rip her apart.  She turned and hurried back to the road.  If those werewolves got loose... if they were released from whatever was holding them... She quickened her pace.  She did not stand a chance against a pack of them.  She hoped the men would not figure out that the werewolves were trying to tell them something, were trying to let them know that all was not right.

She got her horse and climbed onto his back.  This time, she gave a tap of her heels and leaned forward in the seat.  They needed to go faster than a walk, even if the dark was pressing around them.  They needed to get as far away from those werewolves as possible.

She whispered a silent prayer to the gods.  Oh, for her people left behind.  What did they mean this was payback to Princess Gisla?  Was Princess Gisla somehow involved in all of this?

A shiver ran down her spine and she urged the horse to go even faster.  Whoever fashioned those silver harnesses knew what they were doing, she thought.  But who knew that silver could control them?  And how did they create so many in so short a time?  It was as if... she stopped herself from the thought, but then continued it, her certainty ringing true.  It was as if they had known there would be werewolves.  It was as if this was part of a plan.

The question was whose plan?  She thought this was just some revenge played out by Cook Bolstad.  He said that Lord Arnkell was not a good man, and she thought the dish which changed everyone was retribution for some grievance.  But now... did Princess Gisla turn them and that's why these men said there would be payback?  Did Lord Arnkell?  Was it something else entirely?  It did not make sense.

She wished Finn was with her.  He would know what to do.  He would tell her to stay focused on her task.  She needed to gather as many of the berries as she could to try to bring sanity to the werewolves, which would stop this plot, whatever it might be.  People could not continue to go around acting like monsters.  But, she thought, perhaps the monsters had already existed in the stronghold before a single person turned into a werewolf.  Perhaps she had been living with and serving monsters all her life.

S
he continued on for the next week and a half, terrified of stopping to rest.  She pushed her horse to his limit, but was careful not to push him over.  Her journey would not be helped if he dropped dead.  Aein breathed easier knowing that all of the werewolves in the camp had changed back to human, and in human form, they would have no memory of her.  She kept looking over her shoulder, though. 

And despite everything, she almost wished that the form of one particular werewolf would darken her path.

Finn, she thought.  Would she ever see him again, she wondered.  She hoped that the one berry was enough to keep him sane.  She hoped that he had not slipped back into a meaningless beast, possessed by only the desire to bite and tear.  She touched her lips.  She hoped that he remembered.

Still, she did not see any sign of Finn or any other werebeast.  It should not have made her feel as lonely as it did.

The trees began to change, the land became boggy.  Her horse's hooves hit the solid planks of the walkway and too soon, she was in the swamp.  She sat up a little straighter in her saddle, trying to keep aware of her surroundings.  A frog sang in the distance.  Where had she seen those berries?  It had been almost three months ago.  The seasons had changed.  Things that were alive were now dead.  Things which had been dead were now alive.  The swamp contained ghosts as she wandered through it alone.