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They returned to the campground and set about the task of making it habitable again, spending most of the day in silence. Lars found a snake for them to eat, but game was scarce. They cleared away the last ashes of the bodies, scattering them to the wind, and tried to wash the blood from the walls.
"It is stained," said Aein, pushing back the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. "We'll have to replace the wood."
Lars came over and examined her handiwork. "Or we could stain the wood to match."
"I am not opening a vein to paint a shack," Aein replied, earning a smile from him.
"A true soldier would give her blood, sweat, and tears for the needs of her people."
"You are not people."
"There are other people who will come here that will be people," he ribbed.
Aein couldn't help laughing.
"I was thinking more along the lines of finding some berries..." he said.
"Not berries..." Aein replied with a groan.
"...or something else which causes stains," added Lars, holding up his hands in protest.
Aein pursed her lips. "It might work."
"It'll work better than trying to hack down a bunch of trees and rebuild every structure in this camp."
"You've got something better to do?" she asked.
"I can think of about twenty different things."
"Name one."
He squinted down at her good-natured challenge, and his eyes said that at least nineteen of those things would involve her. But instead he said, "Eat that delicious snake I so bravely caught for us."
He walked back to the fire and turned the snake on its spit. Aein came over. "I have seen leather thongs with more meat on them."
"I should know better than to cook for the kitchen's favorite apprentice," retorted Lars.
"You should," she replied, giving him a bump with her shoulder.
Suddenly, she stopped. She realized all of the sounds in the swamp had stopped. She reached towards her belt, realizing that she had left her axe by the shack.
"What is it?" said Lars.
The answer came from the forest as twenty men stepped into the camp, arrows and weapons drawn.
"I believe we might be 'it'," said the leader of the group.
It was soldiers from the Arnkell stronghold. They wore the simple green and yellow leather armor of their old home. Aein even recognized their leader, a lower soldier named Paske. He was a good man when sober, but had a habit of smashing up taverns when he was not. He used to spend as much time under disciplinary action as he did doing his actual job. But his fists were solid and Lord Arknell always valued him when someone needed roughing up. From the paint on his shoulder, it seems Paske had been elevated in rank since the war began. His bald head was filthy with grime and sweat. His entire company was gaunt and their eyes haunted. She could tell they had not had enough to eat. What better way to beat the drums of war than to tell your people all the food they could want was just one kingdom over? With just a modest invasion, it could all be theirs for the taking. Hunger drove people to desperate actions.
"Paske! Friends from Lord Arnkell's stronghold!" Aein exclaimed, trying to overcome the tension with a friendly greeting. But as she stepped forward to take the leader's hand, the entire group raised their weapons.
"We remember what you are, Aein," the man spat. "And you, too, Lars. Werewolf loving traitors."
From the weapons they carried and lack of supplies, it did not seem like they were here to take over the post. "You have it all wrong," Aein replied, her mind working to diffuse the situation. "Please, come share what food we have. Sit and take advantage of our hospitality and let us talk."
"Hospitality?" Paske turned to his friends and laughed. It was an ugly sound. "And why would a traitorous kitchen wench like you be so anxious to share her 'hospitality' with the people she left to die? Why are you two in the wrong end of the swamp?" he asked. "Did that general, oh what was his name... that fellow who was riding hell-for-leather to the Haidra kingdom just yesterday... Finn? Did he leave you here to die?"
Fearfully, Aein locked eyes with Lars. How did they know about Finn? Did they capture him? Did they kill him?
"...and now you hope you can wheedle your way back into our good graces by offering us a snake?" the man continued.
Lars stepped forward, holding out his hands in peace. "I swear we are only here to help. The border must always have two people guarding the line," he said. "There are monsters coming through—"
Paske cut him off. "The only monster we've seen is that bitch-queen sitting on the throne of the Haidra kingdom. I use the term 'bitch' as a technical term." He scratched his crotch and laughed. "We know she turns into a dog every night."
"Whatever is happening between the Haidra kingdom and the Arnkell land is unimportant," said Aein, trying to calm everyone down. "The only thing that is important is holding the swamp. This border was left unprotected. Terrible things are getting through."
"Yeah, I'd say two terrible things got through all right and it is about time we took care of that." The man barked at one of his men. "Harness them."
"What?" asked Aein in confusion.
"We don't know if you're going to turn into bitey little dogs come sundown and I'd prefer not to take any chances, if you don't mind."
The other man stepped forward with two silver harnesses. He threw them at Aein and Lars's feet. Aein felt Lars shiver. The pain from the silver when he shifted would keep him in check and make it impossible for him to do anything but sit very still once twilight came.
"What are you going to do to us?" Aein asked.
"We're going to take you back to Lord Arnkell's stronghold and give you a chance to visit your old friend in a comfortable cell."
So they had caught Finn, Aein thought. There wasn't anything to be done now. Perhaps once night came and the guards went to sleep, Aein and Lars might have a chance to escape and get to the stronghold to free Finn.
"You're making a grave mistake," said Lars, reaching for the harness.
"Just put it on and I'll tell you if I've made a grave mistake," he replied.
Aein and Lars slipped their arms through the harnesses. Aein turned her back to Lars so that he could buckle the silver buckle. When he turned his back for her to do the same, she whispered a promise in his ear. "I will get you out of this," she said.
"No talking!" shouted the man. He was distracted by the gashes in the trees. "What's this from?" he asked.
"That's what we were trying to tell you," said Aein. "That's why we are here."
"Probably just a bear," Paske dismissed, but his fingers kept tracing the marks.
"There are no bears in the swamp," Lars replied.
"You don't know that," he said. But, for all his faults, Paske was not an idiot. Aein saw a flash across his face as he realized they might not have been lying outright. He directed his men. "Get a good look around. Make sure there's nothing hiding in the shadows, would you?" He then saw the stains on the wood. He peered closer and squinted. "This doesn't look natural."
"There were a lot of good men and women who died here," Aein informed him.
"Our people?"
"No, but good people nevertheless."
"How many?"
"All of them."
Paske hesitated, but then sniffed. "Served them right." He balled his fists and took a wide stance. "Teach them to be in places they shouldn't be. Should have kept to their own portion of the swamp."
"We are just trying to help!" said Aein, unable to keep the frustration out of her voice.
Paske lifted his arm to hit her across the face with the back of his hand but stopped himself. "Just give me a reason..." he threatened. But Aein could tell the real reason he stopped was the possibility she was telling the truth.
The truth decided to come overhead with a screeching cry.
Before he could warn his party to arm themselves, a body struck the ground in front of them. It was one of his soldiers. Only his head had been turned on his neck.
"What fresh hell...?" Paske whispered, stepping forward. He glared at Aein, looking for somewhere to aim his confusion and rage. "What did this?"
Aein scanned overhead, but the fog had come in and shrouded the sky, masking out even the sun.
And then another body dropped, hitting the ground beside them.
"ARM YOURSELF!" Paske cried in terror.
Aein ran to grab her weapon but he pointed his sword at her. "Not you! You stay here where I can see you."
"Let me help you!" she shouted.
"Let you slit my throat while I'm trying to defeat this...thing? Is that what you mean? Get back!"
Aein walked to Lars and gripped his hand. They didn't stand a chance. She had seen what it had done to their troops. She had cleared the bodies herself. Another soldier's corpse struck the ground, his stomach opened by sharp claws. She pressed her forehead into Lars's shoulder. "I am so sorry," she said to him. "I am sorry I could not tell you that I love you."
Her words yanked him away from the terror of the moment, his face a mixture of shock and surprise just as the sun struck the horizon.
"No..." he whispered, looking down at his hands as they began to change.
"One minute," she whispered aloud as she scanned the skies. One minute before she would be completely alone, before the only person on her side shifted and was trapped in the body of a wolf. "Oh dear gods..."
Lars limped to the body of the fallen soldier and picked up his sword. Every movement seemed to cause him agony as the silver harness pressed into his changing body. He pointed the tip of the sword at the sky, fighting the change. It seemed as if it was causing him agony to hold onto his human form. "I won't leave you, Aein!" he shouted. But then, he shifted, unable to stop it any longer, unable to hold the sword.
Aein watched as the man who held them captive didn't know whether to kill Lars or the monster first. She heard the creature whizzing through the trees, the sound of flapping and wings in the air. One moment it sounded directly in front of her. The next, on the other side of the clearing. Aein ran and picked up the sword Lars dropped. It was a two-handed blade, too heavy for her to lift. Lars was writhing on the ground, the silver harness burning through his fur.
And then, Paske was gone, lifted up into the sky and into the fog. And then he dropped, his neck broken, his eyes vacant and lifeless.
He had a dagger at his side and Aein scrambled over, her terrified fingers trembling and slipping as she tried to undo the buckle holding it in place.
Lars began barking. It was a warning cry. He ran and leaped, striking something solid.
And just as her fingers grabbed the dagger, the creature had her by the shoulders and was hauling her up.
Aein lifted her head to figure out what captured her. It appeared to be a winged woman with wild hair and rows of sharp teeth. Her eyes were red and her claws were hooked. She looked like what would have happened if a person had tried to shift into a dragon form, but had gotten caught halfway. Her skin was yellow and scaly. Her hair was wild and the color of an apple.
"Harpy!" Aein screamed, hoping anyone who was still alive could hear her warning. She saw the harpy's hooked claws reach down for her neck to snap her in two. Everything slowed and Aein felt like she was seeing the whole world through a tunnel. Aein was not going to die without a fight. Aein put the knife between her teeth, grabbed onto the harpy's ankles and flung her own legs upward. She wrapped her feet around the harpy's neck, and used her weight to fling the harpy upside-down.
The harpy's legs let go of Aein's shoulders and now tried to scratch Aein like a cat disembowels its prey. The harpy's claws ripped at Aein's armor, but when they touched the silver harness, she hissed and pulled back. They were a ball of fists and claws rolling in the sky. Aein twisted her body around so that she was sitting on the harpy's shoulders. The creature dove and bucked, trying to knock Aein off. Aein took the silver dagger and began stabbing wildly, releasing the fury she had built up over months. With a gurgling cry, the creature fell, clawing at the air.
Aein braced herself as the earth grew closer. The harpy's wings were outstretched as she tried with one last gasp to escape the inevitable. But Aein forced the harpy's body to the ground first and used the creature to cushion her own fall. She rolled off as they hit, feeling as if a horse kicked her in the chest. She needed to close her eyes... just for a moment... The darkness was so soft... so welcoming...
She opened her eyes and the fog had rolled in. The world was nothing but dim and gray, illuminated by only the flicker of the campfire. She wondered how Lars lit the flames with his wolf paws. She saw the campgrounds were filled with sleeping shapes tucked into their bedrolls. Something told her not to call out, not to wake them.
It was as if they were inside of a gigantic bubble. Outside the protection of their dome was a world of nothing but white and fog. Even the trees were gone. She realized Finn was sitting upon a log by the fire. His eyes scanned the skies overhead. There was a vague memory that he should be somewhere else. A winged shape flew by, but did not venture any closer. Finn did not acknowledge her and she knew to leave him alone.
She heard footsteps coming towards her and she sat up in her bedroll. A figure came out of the fog.
"No..." she whispered.
It was Cook Bolstad, the man who raised her, the man responsible for making her poison her own people.
"You're dead," she said, trying to remind herself. Perhaps he had not died. Perhaps he had been here all along, looking for her, looking for the cure. Perhaps it had been nothing but some terrible mistake.
But then he reached out for her and she could see he was not alive. His face was deathly pale, his hands were bony and skeletal. When he opened his mouth, he began to fall apart.
"I did it for you..." he whispered, his voice carried to her on the edge of a breeze. "Seek me, Aein... Find me... I did it for you..."
Then the last of his flesh crumbled away, leaving behind the shape of a hawk who took to the skies and flew away.