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Aein cracked the ogre's skull and he fell like an oak. She spat out a mouthful of blood and wiped her lips with the back of her hand.
"You got him before I even had a chance," said Finn. The water splashed around him as he struggled to his feet. "Stop claiming all the fun." He almost disappeared in the darkness. Mud covered him from head to toe. His once blonde hair was stained green from all the algae. Finn wiped the muck from his face, revealing the long scar that ran from the top of his forehead to the bottom of his cheek.
Aein couldn't even guess what she looked like. Finn helped her cut off her long, blonde hair weeks ago. Lars balked when she asked him to do it, but her braid just gave the monsters something to grab on to when they fought and she was tired of washing the blood out of the tangles.
In the month they had been battling their way through the swamp towards the Haidra kingdom, her body had hardened. Her skin was covered in scrapes and bruises. Her useless arm had been retrained. Funny how survival motivated a person to get over their old wounds, she thought as she gripped and ungripped her fingers to stretch them out. Her hand still ached, but she didn't have time to pay it any attention.
Lars trotted painfully towards Finn and Aein and shook the water out of his black coat. The ogre attacked while they slept. Fortunately, Lars had been on the lookout. His wolf senses were able to hear and smell the giant before he attacked the camp. Lars sounded the alarm, which only angered the monster. The ogre tossed Lars against a tree and Aein guessed it had taken all this time for his broken spine to heal. It was enough distraction, though, to allow Finn to grab his sword, jump on the ogre's back, and start stabbing him. The ogre responded by falling into the water, pinning Finn beneath to drown him. It was the perfect angle for Aein to cut off the ogre's head, but the ogre disagreed with this plan. He batted her away with his mighty fist and split her lip, but that just made her angry. The only thing to do was to finish him off, and so she had.
"What can I say?" she replied to Finn as she patted Lars's mud-encrusted ruff. "I've never been fond of sharing."
A sound crashed in the branches. Aein spun around, sword up, and searched the trees. It was a squirrel.
A hawk and an owl had followed them for weeks. The birds gave no indication why they were there or what they found so interesting about Aein's party, but they had become fixtures during this trek. Neither owl nor hawk was in sight, though. Instead, fingers of white mist were crawling their way through the roots of the sunken trees.
"So soon..." she groaned.
"What?" asked Finn, tightening his grip on his sword and bracing himself for the next wave.
She pointed. "Fog." She shouted at it and motioned towards the ogre. "Well, come and get it then! Eat up! We want to make sure you are well fed."
She turned the opposite direction and slogged towards their camp. Their fire beckoned with its promise of warmth and sleep. But the fog had other plans, wrapping around her and replaying the sound of the battle.
"Yeah, yeah," she shouted at the mist. "I was there. I know what it sounded like." She felt the fog loosen its grip. "There is nothing you can show me that I have not seen before," she grumbled.
The month in the swamp had been grueling. She did not know how many they killed. She did not know how many times they escaped death. She lost count. They all joked that they should start making notches on their sword sheaths, except they'd be down to ribbons at this point.
She was so tired, she was beyond exhaustion. She was so hungry, she seriously considered whether they should cook the ogre they had just slain. She was wet and cold. Aein thought back to that day of the fire when Lord Arnkell abandoned them to the swamp. He swore he would tell everyone to burn their roads to keep the monsters back. And he kept true to that promise. She banged her hand on a blackened pylon as she passed it, the only remains of where the road once stood. Everywhere they went, all that were left were charred ruins.
They had taken what supplies they could scavenge from Lord Arnkell's abandoned camp. A distance which could have been traveled in a few weeks by horseback became unending. They walked on dry land when they could find it. More often than not, they swam or trudged through the water. In the morning, they could usually tell which direction the sun was rising and use it to guide them towards the Haidra territory. Sometimes the fog cooperated. Sometimes not.
Aein was sure they would die before they got out. But they did what they had to do to survive. They held the border. They killed what they came across and tried not to get killed themselves.
Finn squinted up at the sky as false dawn crept across the inky blue. "Not even enough time to finish that wonderful dream I was having," he sighed.
As Aein reached the relatively dry ground, she thought back to how thrilled they were last night when they hit the muddy earth and didn’t sink up to their calves. Most nights they spent in tree branches. The ground was too wet to sleep on and too easy to attack. The boughs at least made it a little more difficult for the things that wanted to eat them. But last night, each step became firmer and firmer, and they decided to celebrate the dry land with a campfire. The fog had followed them doggedly for the past few days. It had been more persistent than any of them remembered. The fire seemed like an opportunity to chase it away. The ogre seemed to appreciate their campfire, too. It let him know fresh food was near.
Aein glanced back at Finn and Lars, who were still in the water up to their knees. "Lars? Do you want to go scout the camp for us? Let us know if there is anything else hoping to make us breakfast?"
He gave a bark and bounded ahead, creating great splashes as he leaped on to the bank and raced into the tree line around their camp.
"Well, if there are any monsters who didn't know about us, they do now," remarked Finn dryly.
Aein heard Lars give four sharp barks. They had figured out a code so they could communicate when the men were wolves. Three barks meant, "No" or "Get back." Four meant, "Yes" or "All is clear." Growls needed no interpretation.
Finn stepped out of the water. His entire leg was stained with red and he was limping.
"How bad is it?" Aein asked, eyeing the gash.
"So bad, I'm not going to be able to collect any firewood at all," he said as he sheathed his sword. "Or find us breakfast. In fact, I think I'm going to lie about with my feet up while you feed me snake meat."
She grinned and pushed the side of his head. "Nice try."
Lars gave a low growl. She turned, at the ready for another attack. Instead, Lars blocked their way with his feet splayed and she realized the growl was aimed at her for joking with Finn.
If Finn and Lars were wolves at the same time, they would have spent it nipping at each other trying to figure out who was the leader of the pack and who had claim to her, Aein thought. She just fought an ogre, found one moment of lightheartedness, and Lars decided it was the appropriate occasion to remind her who she belonged to. She sighed. She wanted Lars to play along with them. She wanted him to join in on the camaraderie. She wanted Lars to understand he was a part of their band and any jokes or smiles included him, too. Instead, everything seemed like a contest and she had to prove to him time and again that he was always the winner. She was exhausted by it.
Finn ignored Lars, though, and shouted, "Come on, you lazy dog! Haven't you caught us a rabbit or a troll or something yet? If I have to eat frogs one more time..." He stepped on his leg wrong and it buckled beneath him.
"Let's get to the camp before the shift," interrupted Aein, taking Finn's elbow. "Think you can hold off on dying until the sun comes up?"
"You are such a killjoy," he winced.
The one advantage both Lars and Finn had over her was that with each shift, their body regenerated itself. As werewolves, they were immortal except for dismemberment and silver. There was one other danger, thought Aein as Finn hobbled beside her. Death by the wolves who had the ability to kill other wolves. The werewolves that escaped from the Arnkell stronghold and traveled with Lord Arnkell turn into these monsters. Lars had seen it. So far, they hadn't run into this new breed; Aein was not eagerly awaiting that first meeting. All she could hope was that they would reach Queen Gisla's road before it happened. If these new wolves killed them, perhaps Queen Gisla's guards would find their corpses and deduce something was wrong.
Because even though Lord Arnkell abandoned his post and swore he would convince others to retreat, Aein was sure Queen Gisla would not. Aein was sure Queen Gisla would feed every man, woman, and child in her kingdom to the swamp before she abandoned the border. Aein believed in her heart that somehow Queen Gisla knew it was that important. Or at least, that was what Aein told herself each morning when she woke up. She told herself she could not quit and surrender to death, no matter how much she wanted to, as long as Queen Gisla was still fighting. Queen Gisla's patrols were out there somewhere and Aein, Finn, and Lars would find them.
The hill led to a flat clearing where they had set up their camp. Aein placed her hands on her thighs and bent over to catch her breath. The air was already thick from the humidity and heat. It never went away, even in the night.
Finn flung himself on to the ground and closed his eyes. "I would kill to get out of this armor," he sighed.
They had taken the armor from Lord Arnkell's men, who wore the chainmail and leather plate of Aein's old stronghold. It gave almost no protection compared with what Queen Gisla provided her soldiers, but it was better than nothing. When the shift came, everything Lars and Finn wore transformed with them.
Aein wore the silver harness that had bound Lars when he had been kept captive by Lord Arnkell. It was good to have it in case they ran into a werewolf they could not control. It had already come in handy against several other creatures.
"Are you going to lie there all day or help me cook breakfast?" asked Aein.
Finn pointed at his leg. "I'm bleeding."
"Excuses," she replied, heading towards the base of a nearby tree to pick up any dry wood that was to be had.
"I heal," explained Finn, as he took off his boot and poured out the water, "but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."
"Baby!" she shouted back.
As had become their normal routine, Lars took off to hunt and by the time she had the fire going, he had returned with a fat squirrel in his mouth. Aein sighed. The monsters scared off all the game with brains larger than a walnut.
Lars went back into the swamp to look for more while Aein set about skinning it. Finn half-crawled over and lowered himself to the ground beside her, wincing.
"Can I help with that?" he asked.
She smiled. "No. I'm going to send you out into the scrub for your own breakfast, so no use making you prepare mine."
"Fair enough," he said. He glanced at the sky. "Not too much longer."
"I'll see you at sunset," said Aein, patting him on the back.
"Hey!" said Lars, walking back into the clearing. He looked freshly scrubbed and as healthy as the day they had entered the swamp last summer.
"So, dawn has come," groaned Finn, jamming his foot back into his shoe. "Finally. Anything you need me to know?" he asked Lars.
The tall, red-haired man replied. "Try to not get too cozy with Aein."
Finn gave him a little salute. "Never crossed my mind."
Aein watched Finn's easy smile and there was a part of her that still mourned that their journey together down that road had ended. Lars and Aein had sworn themselves to each other, and he was good to her. She did not regret the decision. Lars was sweet and kind, but... She tried to busy herself preparing their breakfast and push away the thought. It came anyway. From the start, Lars had always needed her, and that need continued to grow instead of diminish. It was like the more he had of her, the more he wanted. She felt like she was being consumed by him sometimes.
Aein turned and tossed more wood into the fire. "I'd like to cook breakfast before the next attack, if you don't mind."
Finn stretched. "I would not mind resting after that last ogre."
"Rest or pass out?" asked Aein.
He looked at the blood still pouring out of his leg, but didn't complain. "For once in my life, I am looking forward to the shift." His hands began to fade and he sighed happily. "Oh thank the gods." As the fur covered his body, the bleeding stopped and a peaceful look crossed his face. By the time he was a wolf, he rolled on his back in the dirt, unable to contain his exuberance.
It must feel good to have an end to the pain, thought Aein as he bounded around the campground. She clenched and unclenched her fist.
"So did you smell anything or see anything?" she asked Lars.
He squatted next to the fire and shook his head. The sunrise illuminated his light, freckled skin.
"Is that squirrel going to be enough?" asked Finn, looking at the charred meat.
"Maybe we'll get lucky and a nice, juicy boar will come wandering out of the swamp and collapse dead on our fire. It will have onions and potatoes impaled on its tusks and will have just finished taking a bath in au jus," she dreamed. She picked up the makeshift spit and stared at the squirrel, trying to figure out if it was cooked enough.
"Hey, Finn!" Lars shouted. "See if you can find us more food! Aein would like pork loin!"
Finn jumped to his feet, as if thrilled to take his healthy, well-rested wolf body out on an adventure, and bounded into the swamp.
"If he comes back with a boar, I am going to owe him," warned Aein.
"If it's to be found in the swamp, he'd bring it back for you." Lars was teasing, but there was an edge to his words.
"What?" asked Aein.
He shrugged, pretending to be interested in the squirrel. "I don't like the way you two were joking around earlier, especially after my back had been broken by that ogre. That's all."
"You were in werewolf form. We knew you were healing," Aein replied defensively.
"You didn't know that."
"I'm sorry," she sighed. These moments of careless acts being taken the wrong way were becoming more and more frequent between her and Lars. It wasn't that anything he asked for was unreasonable, she felt like she apologized all the time for things she should not have to apologize for. She motioned to the swamp. "All of us almost died at the hand of that ogre. I was over the moon that we survived. I apologize for not maintaining proper distance from a person who happened to risk his life to save mine."
Lars picked up a stick and poked the log in the fire. Flames sprang from the coals. "I'm not saying don't do it. I'm just saying that I don't like it," he stated.
"Your passive-aggressive command has been noted," replied Aein.
"I don't mean it like that," he said, the frustration in his voice. "It's this swamp. It's this place. It grinds on me and makes me... edgy. About everything. I can't help it."
Aein didn't say a thing, thinking to herself that Finn seemed to have no trouble being able to help it.
Lars tilted back his head and closed his eyes. The muscles in his jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. "I can't wait until we get out of here. Until it is only you and me and we don't have to wonder every second if something is going to pop out of the shadows and kill us." He gave Aein a sideways glance. "When I don't have to worry every second if something is going to kill you."
She realized what he was trying to tell her: he was anxious because he cared. He was overprotective because he didn't want anything to happen to her. It made her feel miserable that he didn't trust her to be able to take care of herself, that he didn't trust her the way she trusted him. But maybe it was just the pressures of the swamp that set her on edge. Or maybe this was what a serious relationship felt like. It was all just miserable.
She sighed. "Me, too."