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The moment they stepped out of the fog into the sunlight on the edge of the swamp, Aein felt as if a massive weight had been pulled from her chest. She looked back at Lars. His vision, which had been cloudy despite the moment of clarity in the fight, left him. He almost shook his head, like coming out of water and needing to shake the droplets away.
He rode his own horse now, who seemed to recognize him and settle down into a grudging acceptance of a rider. Surrounding their feet during this entire journey was their new pack. The wolves were serious about their posts, moving silently through the grey. But as soon as they stepped from the wooden road onto the gravel one, it was as if the pressure lifted for them, too. They ran and leaped, chasing after each other and wrestling. Aein couldn't help herself from laughing. The absence of that fog left her dizzy with euphoria, like when a terrible pain suddenly stops. It wasn't so much happiness as it was the lack of misery.
Lars swung his leg over and slid off of his horse. He walked over to the grass and felt it beneath his fingers. He looked back at the mist swirling across the walkway they just left. A few tendrils snaked out, but it stayed on its side of the border.
Lars lifted the back of his hand to his nose, wiping away the moisture forming as he fought back tears of gratitude. "We are out," is all he said.
Aein dismounted her horse and walked over to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. They didn't need to say anything more. One of the werewolves came over and placed his head beneath her other hand. She looked down. It was Finn.
"He seems to like you," said Lars.
She replied dryly, "Yes, I believe he does."
Lars stood up, running his hands over his long, unkempt hair. "We should find a place to rest for the night."
"Preferably farther from the swamp," said Aein, looking over her shoulder.
"You are reading my mind."
They rode their horses side-by-side, not needing to say a word. The werewolves pranced along, cavorting and rolling in the dirt. Finn seemed to come back frequently to check in on Aein. Finally, they reached a spot close to a stream that looked like a good enough spot to spend the night. The swamp was behind them, the forest was ahead, but for a moment, they were in the clear.
The werewolves set about digging up a fire pit before Aein could even lift a finger to start it herself. She left Lars to unpack the horses as she went off to find some firewood. The sun was low in the sky and they did not have much time.
She returned and the camp was almost completely set up. The dogs waiting around the fire, like politicians in a petition room. She plunked down hard next to Lars upon the bedroll.
"There is only one bedroll," he remarked.
"Yours was disgusting. We can share if you need it," she said.
Finn gave a low growl.
She held up her hand. "I think we're about to have a much bigger bedroll problem when all of you transform."
And sure enough, the dark of the twilight came. All of the werewolves around her began to shift. Again, not in pain and agony, but just as if having one's fur fade to skin was as normal as removing one's shirt.
She turned and looked at Lars. "It will be your turn soon."
He nodded, watching the werewolves until the transformation was complete. Instead of eight dogs, suddenly there were now eight people.
They were of all shapes and sizes. Aein recognized them from the stronghold. But most of all, she recognized the warrior who would not let her go.
"What happened?" she asked Finn.
"There was a raiding party," said Finn. "They came to the castle and... they persuaded everyone in human form to put on these silver collars. They said it would control the change. They said that it would keep us from killing one another. They swore that it was Princess Gisla's family who cursed us. They captured her and put her in silver chains. They are heading off to the Haidra stronghold and will release the werewolves upon it."
"It wasn't Gisla," said Aein.
"I know," said Finn. "She would never do anything like that. The few of us who think as you do, I told them of the cure. We decided to escape. We went out that secret passage and ran. But I am sorry that we found you while in our wolf form..."
She looked down at her bloodied hands. "Hazard of the trade."
Finn looked at Aein and Lars, the only soldiers in their company. "We must go and warn the Haidra stronghold."
It was at that moment that Lars began to turn. He looked over at Aein with fear in his eyes.
"Noooo..." he whispered. "Make it stop..."
But the change continued until his legs and arms were changed into furry legs, he mouth grew into a snout, and his skin sprouted fur.
She realized this was the first time someone had taken a berry in human form rather than wolf form. He was aware of all the shifts, of everything happening that was not him, rather than having the relief that he was turning back from beast to man.
Lars looked up at her and his ears flattened sadly upon his head. He stood, his tail listless between his legs. He walked over to the fire and, with a sigh, laid down beside the flames, hiding his nose in his paws.
Aein hated to see him like that. She walked over and placed her hand upon his head comfortingly, aware that Finn was watching her closely. "It is going to be all right, Lars. This is just the first step in the cure. We only need to wait for the bush to sprout again."
Lars just turned his head away from her.
"How many berries do you have?" asked Finn.
"Twenty-two now," said Aein. "There were only thirty berries left. The season was gone and other animals had eaten them all."
Finn pursed his lips and began pacing. "There were more than twenty-two wolves," he said.
Aein nodded. "Perhaps silver is the only way to control them until the bush sprouts again."
Finn looked off into the horizon, crossing his arms as he thought. "It is a cruel way to hold them," he replied. "The transformation is still agonizing. Their memories are still wild. It is only that they are being held in a wearable cage that they don't move. It is only pain that keeps them in check."
"Only until the summer," promised Aein. "As soon as spring comes, we will return and gather all that we can. I ate handfuls of them and never transformed. Perhaps with enough..." She let the hope of that wish linger in the air. Perhaps with enough, it could stop the transformations for good.
She gave Lars's head another stroke, but he pulled away from her. She stood, leaving him alone in his misery.
"Will he be all right?" asked Finn.
Aein explained. "He was stuck on the border for too long."
She didn't have to say anymore. Finn understood what that meant. "We shall do whatever we can to aid him in his recovery."
Aein went back to the group. "I have no food. No comforts. Nothing that I can offer you."
"We ate in our other form," said one of the men. "We shall continue to do so."
Aein nodded, realizing it was the only way they would survive. "Now, tell me more about this invasion and what you propose we do about it."
It was at that moment that Lars sat up. He whined into the darkness. He turned to Aein and barked.
"They are coming," said Finn. "The werewolves are coming."
"Go," said Aein, pushing him away. "From the look of our camp, it will appear no one is here but me."
"Their dogs will smell us."
"You must try. Run as far away as you can in as many different directions as possible. They cannot track you all. Come back before the sunrise." She turned to Lars, taking his great head in her hands. "Lead them to safety. You may not owe me anything, but you swore an oath to protect the stronghold's people. Protect them."
He struggled to his feet. He then gave her a gentle lick on the cheek and ran out into the darkness beyond the light of the fire. The eight others followed, leaving Aein alone.
She dashed to her saddlebag and grabbed the remaining berries, wrapping them and placing the precious handful in her shirt. She sat down again by the fire, resting herself upon the single bedroll, hoping that no one observed her doing anything besides sitting perfectly quiet and preparing for the night.
It was then that she fell under attack.