The Dark of Twilight (Twilight Shifters Book 1) (17 page)

"Never!" said Aein, meaning it with the depth of her heart.  No matter how she felt, she would not abandon him again.  She could not live with a lifetime of more memories of him alone and lost.

"We could marry..." he said, this time not looking at her.

Aein held up her hand, stopping him.  It was all moving too quickly.  "Let us survive the coming battle," said Aein.  "And I shall give you my answer then."

She tried to ignore the defeat in Lars's eyes by her answer, the flash of hurt upon his face.  He bowed, kissing her fingertips

"I am not saying no," she pleaded.  "I just need time."

But that was one thing she was not to have, for the sound of pounding feet suddenly echoed in the hall outside.  Trumpets were blaring from the parapets.  She sprang from the bed and opened the door.

"What is going on?" she asked a woman jogging down the hall in full armor.

"We are under attack," came the reply.

Aein looked back at Lars.  He nodded grimly and then pushed past her to his room.

Aein grabbed her filthy clothing from the pegs and jammed herself back inside her trousers.  But as she dressed, her hand brushed upon her pocket.  Inside was the remaining half of the berry, wrapped up in the square of fabric.  Could this berry provide Lars with some relief?  He had suffered more than anyone else.  He had suffered longer than anyone else.  He deserved it more than anyone else.

She sprinted off to his room and then realized that she was being followed by her pack.  Had they been waiting outside her door?  Taking her side was the large wolf with the silver scar.

"Good morning, Finn," she said as she ran.

He gave a bark.

Aein paused to pound on Lars's door.  He was buckling his armor as best he could.  Whatever moment they had was now gone.  Aein shooed his hands away to help him and he returned the favor.  But perhaps the moment had not passed for him completely, for he left his fingers lingered on her last buckle and said, "Once again, we needed one another to survive."

She looked up into his soft, green eyes rimmed with red lashes.  This man forgave her for abandoning him, forgave her for bringing this nightmare upon him, desired her despite it all.  She pressed the cloth with the half berry inside.  "Take this," she said.

Before he could respond, the foundations of the fortress shook.  Dust fell from the ceiling.

"So they have a catapult..." murmured Lars.

"It is like they were planning this for a long time," remarked Aein.

Finn gave a bark, hurrying them to catch up.  Aein and Lars followed him, running up to the top of the battlement.  King Haidra stood, looking out upon the gathering forces surrounding his stronghold. 

"You say my daughter is among them?" he asked, looking out upon a sea of werewolves.  Their silver harnesses caught the light of the sun.

"Yes," replied Aein.

"And you say that you can cure her?" he asked again.

She looked at him.  "Not completely, but I can ease her suffering."

He nodded.  "So be it."  He turned to his archers.  "Prepare!" he cried.

Aein walked over to join them on the battlement.  Her own bow and arrow had been taken by Lord Arnkell when he raided her camp, but she grabbed the equipment available, ready to make do.  She realized that the arrows had been tipped with silver.  She swallowed, looking at Finn's scars. 

"Pull!" King Haidra cried.

The arrows took flight, striking the army.

"Prepare!" he cried again.  And then "Pull!"  Another volley flew, knocking down the next wave of soldiers.

Ladders were being placed against the battlement.  King Haidra's men kept busy knocking them over.  Aein looked over the edge and fired upon the soldiers attempting to scale the walls.  A hand pulled her back.  King Haidra grabbed her shoulders and said, "Prepare your army."

She motioned to her werewolves.  "Attack any that come over the wall!  Allow no one to make it past this post!"

As soon as the words came out of her mouth, an enemy soldier stepped over.  His shield was pierced by several arrows, but he swung it protectively against the snarling fangs and snapping teeth that waited to greet him.

It was then that there was a cry from the courtyard.  Aein looked over.  It was filled with the bodies of silver clad warriors and werewolves.

"They tunneled through," whispered Aein.  She turned to King Haidra.  "They tunneled through," she said again.

He was busy with the attackers.  "GO!" he cried.  "Stop them!

She gave a whistle and her entire herd led the charge.  She lined up for shots and began taking them.  The chaos of the battle around her was mighty.  She needed to be able to protect herself.  Arrows with fire were beginning to come over the battlement.  She raced down the stairs, Finn loping by her side as Lars, sword in hand, took up the rear.

She reached the courtyard and it was a melee.  She did not know who was winning or losing.  The air was filled with the crash of metal against metal, the cries of valor being cut short, the horrible barking and snarling which she had grown too used to.  A person might hold his own with a sword, but not against these rabid canines who knew only bloodlust.

"Go!" she commanded her pack and they fell into the battle, leaping upon the backs and grabbing at the throats of those around them.  She hoped that their preserved intellect would be able to fight the berserker bloodlust.  She only had eight wolves, though, she thought.  Eight wolves against Lord Arnkell's forty.  If only he had attacked at night when her wild werewolves had turned with the moon...

Her heart broke as she fired, knowing that each wolf she struck down was someone from her own stronghold, someone who thought they were cursed, someone that she, herself, was responsible for transforming, even if it was unwittingly.

It was this moment of guilt and reflection which led to her distraction.  And that was all the enemy needed.

She felt powerful jaws grip her arm and she cried out as she was drug away.  Her wrist slammed against the wall with such force, it knocked the bow from her hand.  Shooting pain went up her arm.  She flung her free arm over her head to beat upon the face of the wolf that had gotten her.  He shook her like a ragdoll and she felt the bone in her arm break as he flung her against a pillar.  Blinding, white hot pain seared her mind.  Nausea overwhelmed her.  But the wolf did not stop.  She tried to kick her legs out to catch the wall, to do anything to halt his course, but she was powerless.

And then she heard a growl from the other direction.  She summoned the last of her strength to lift her head, to bravely look death in the face if it was coming for her.

But it was not death.  It was a wolf with a scar across his chest where the silver ore had burned him.  Finn.  It was Finn. 

And his eyes were dark with fury.

He made a flying leap and landed upon the wolf carrying her away.  In an instant, they were nothing but a tumble of fur and fangs.  Snarling they circled one another, Aein herself forgotten.  She cradled her injured arm that hung uselessly at her side and scrambled away.  Surely one of the doors in the hallway was open, she thought as she tried them all.  She was unarmed.  She was injured.  She just needed somewhere to hide from the wolves until she could bind her arm.  Weeping, she pulled one open...

...and found herself in the throne room with Lord Arnkell.  Princess Gisla stood at his side and screamed to Aein, "HELP!"

P
rincess Gisla lunged forward towards the open door, but Lord Arnkell grabbed the silver harness she wore and yanked her back.

"You..." Aein snarled.

Lord Arnkell barely glanced at her as he shoved Princess Gisla into her place, distain dripping from every word.  "I see my dog brought you."

"Stop this!" she cried.

He spread his arms wide.  His silly yellow and green armor seemed so sad and vain.  How had she ever seen him as anything but a madman?

"This could have been so easy," he replied.  "No one needed to have died.  Why did you make this all so hard?"

"You used me to destroy your own people," Aein said, struggling to her feet.

"There will always be more people," he shouted back at her.  "There will always be more peasants breeding like rabbits looking for a leader to promise them the moon.  You think that you are so special?  You are disposable.  You are nothing but a useless foot soldier who served her purpose and is now too stubborn to die."

"Then kill me yourself," said Aein, standing tall, even though her arm made her want to curl up into a ball and throw up.  "Give me a sword and let us see how powerful you are.  Put me in my place if you think I am nothing but the dust beneath your shoe."

He laughed.  "It would be a mercy killing."

"After everything you have done to me?  You owe me that much," Aein spat.

He cocked his head.  "You think I do?"

"I brought you those mushrooms, not knowing what they are.  For better or for worse, whatever happens here today happened because of me.  Consider it the payment I request for my services.  Put me out of my misery."

"But you see, you look upon those mushrooms as a weakness," he explained.  "The problem is that no one saw the gift as a strength.  Why, with a little experimentation," he casually brushed his finger against Princess Gisla's dark cheek.  She flinched away, "I learned that a person can become more powerful than ever imagined."

And with that, he removed silver harness from Princess Gisla. Before Aein's eyes, she began to shift.

"RUN!" Gisla cried to her, her face a twist of agony and apology.  "RUN!" she shouted again.

And then she was no longer the princess, but a werewolf who did not need the sun or moon to change her.  She was an animal.  And Arnkell had set her upon Aein. As the werewolf flew at her, Arnkell spoke the final words, "Here is your mercy killing."

And then Gisla was upon her.  Without the silver holding her back, the werewolf was mad.  There was no intelligence.  No humanity.  She was nothing but animal instinct.  The hunger shone in her eyes.

How to defend herself without killing the king's daughter?  Aein's mind scrambled even faster than her legs could.  She lay with her foot up to use the force of Gisla's momentum to hurl her overhead.  The wolf landed upon her side and scrambled to get back to her feet. But so did Aein.

The door burst open.  Only his cry and a flash of his red hair and shining sword let Aein know that Lars was here.  He raced take down Gisla, but Lord Arnkell intercepted.  Aein heard the sound of their weapons crash, but she did not have time to register any more.  The shifted form of Gisla kept her busy.

How she wanted to just succumb to the darkness and make all of this stop.  But there was a voice inside her.  This time, though, it reminded her that her existence was not for someone else to take.

She saw Lars go down, heard his sword clang to the floor as his head struck the flagstones.  But then she heard a snarling pant.  Finn was there to take up the battle with Lord Arnkell where Lars left off. The wolf knocked Lord Arnkell over.  Arnkell stretched for the silver harness to use against him. Poor Lars lay silent, unmoving.  Aein tried not to think about what that meant.

Aein grabbed Lars's discarded sword and held it as best she could.  It was too heavy for her one hand.  She could not lift the point, but used the sharp edges as a weak shield, trying to aim the edge towards him as Gisla came at her again.  The werewolf took the cuts, though.  Her thick fur protected her from the worst of the sword.

From the corner of her eye, Aein was aware that Lord Arnkell gave up on the harness and was fleeing the room with Finn fast behind.  But then she heard a yip and then a thud, and she did not hear Finn get up to continue the chase.  Only silence and the sound of a man's booted footsteps pounding down the hall.

The fact her master was gone did not stop Gisla from her blind attack.  Aein knew that she was alone.

She ran for the door, but tripped on one of the flagstones.  She tried to push herself up, but her arm would not obey her command.  Suddenly, she felt her leg being ripped apart as Gisla bit into the back of her unprotected calf.  Aein kicked and connected her other foot with Gisla's eyes and nose, but she did not let go.  Aein felt herself being dragged back, even as she clawed her way forward. 

Gisla picked her up and shook her like a rag doll.  Aein's head struck the floor and she fought the stars and swelling darkness.  How was it possible for her to still be feeling pain? she wondered.

But Lars was still alive.  His eyes opened.  He reached out towards her.  And in his hand was a small, blue mound.  It was the other half of the berry, the one that the boy had given back to her.  With her good arm, Aein reached for him.  He crawled forward, even as Gisla bit and tore at Aein.  She had to get to the berry.

It fell from Lars's fingers as he lost consciousness again.  Aein took every break in the onslaught to inch towards it.  She screamed and cried, not making any pretense of bravery.  She fought the darkness which called to her so seductively.  She wished the twilight would come so that this nightmare would end.  She wrapped her fingers around the berry and thrust her good hand into Gisla's mouth.

Gisla stopped.  She backed away.  She rubbed her snout with her paw as if she had been stung by a bee.  She shook her head and heaved, as if the monster inside of her wanted her to rid herself of what she just ate.  But suddenly Gisla's eyes were clear.  They were not the eyes of a monster.  The changed from yellow to bright blue.  They were the eyes of the woman trapped inside the body of a dog.

Gisla shifted from wolf to human to wolf again.  And then to woman, to the princess that Aein had once knew, and stayed.  The berry had been just enough to counteract the unnatural shift Lord Arnkell had forced upon her.

Aein lay with the cool flagstones against her face, watching as the woman realized where she was and what was going on.  Aein closed her eyes.  Death could take her now, she decided.  She had served her purpose.

And then there was darkness.