Chapter 30

I was on the floor, my hand burning with a throbbing needlework of pain, closing and opening my fingers, desperate for some sort of feeling. Claws clicked and one of the Lycans lurked from its former prison, emerging out into the room.

“Shut the cages!” The thick, growling voice of an orc shouted, its rage tinged with a sharp edge of poorly contained terror. One of the other orcs sprinted toward me, lumbering across the metal catwalk. 

He never made it.

Chaos swarmed, a sudden surge of charging Lycan bursting free of their cages, lunging toward one of the orcs, a trio of large werewolves converging on the howling creature, teeth shredding and claws tearing. The sprinting orc drew close, but not close enough as the white blur of Daniel’s father smeared before me, right-to-left, leaping airborne and hitting the large creature broadside. They went tumbling in a twisted gnarl of limbs, the orc desperately battering at the large beast, trying to force him off. The white wolf landed on top of the sprawled orc, paused for a moment, then buried his fangs deep in the creature’s meaty throat. He clamped his jaws and twisted his head, spraying a geyser of torn meat in the air, and the thrashing orc immediately fell still.

“Horrors!” The Realm Walker hissed and fired a comet of blue light from his palms. The magic blast struck a charging Lycan headlong, charred its fur and sent it toppling into a backwards roll, howling in agony. Three more werewolves filled the gap, leaping toward the demon. The Realm Walker twisted, slashing his hand across his body, a sudden surge of violet energy ripping free, crescent-shaped, and tossed the wolves aside as he moved away.

I made a move for the door, but the Realm Walker spotted me, wheeled toward me, then launched into the air, surrounded by a curtain of purple light. The creature lifted both arms, its singular wing snapping behind him, fluttered by mystic power. Both hands became the eyes of two small storms, swirling vortexes of blue, a whirling consummation of powerful energy converging into a blinding light within both palms. He curled an arm back and hurled it forward, a spinning ball of heat erupting from his outstretched hand. I dove right as the magic blast exploded against the wall a foot away, the impact and energy discharge buckling the metal wall and spraying the surrounding air with embers.

I felt useless and helpless, with no knives, the shorn tip of Joyland little more than a useless sliver against my palm. My shoulder banged hard into the metal catwalk and I rolled awkwardly, then came up in a kneel, facing off against the demon, who drew ever closer. There was nowhere to go. Another rippling sphere of energy surrounded his right hand as he drew power into his mottled flesh, tapping it directly from beyond the veil.

He never saw the wolf coming. Daniel’s father leaped through the air, ten feet, and collided with the Realm Walker before he could unleash his magical blast. There was a sudden thud of fur and flesh, the white wolf’s momentum carrying the demon down. Metal buckled and clanged as the two bodies struck the floor, and it shook beneath my bent knee. Fangs clamped and claws shredded, the demon’s piercing, animal howl choking into garbled gasps as the Lycan tore him to shreds.

Then, the cavernous room was eerily silent. Orcs dead, the Realm Walker finished, the hunched form of Daniel’s father bent over the ragged remains of the demon, one narrow arm lifted, hand hanging by narrow sinew. Slowly, the broad, pale head of the wolf turned, piercing green eyes glowered out from the darkened mass of his scarred fur. Some of the blackened hair had started to grow out, but the side of its snout was puckered with ruined flesh, one ear scorched into misshapen cartilage.

“You.” The wolf took a long stride forward, slowly rising from all fours, drawing himself erect on two feet, standing over seven feet tall. His broad, sloped shoulders were clad with layers of pale fur, his limbs thick with ribbons of muscle. “You did this to me.” He gestured toward his burned face and took a long stride forward, the hooked claws of his foot clacking on metal. There was a primal ferocity to his voice, a full moon fueled bestial edge.

“I’m— sorry,” I stammered, trying to keep the terror from my voice. “I jumped to conclusions. I regret—”

You did this to me!” his voice was a feral scream, almost a howl and he lurched forward. His breath was hot and sour on my face, languid drool seeping over black lips, his fangs bared wide. The white wolf was inches from me, nostrils flared, the withered burn scars clearly visible throughout the mats of his pale fur.

I wasn’t sure what to say. My heart hammered so loud I could hear it. The creature took another long step closer and I braced myself for the slash of claws or the clamping bite of its sharpened teeth.

“Father!”

The white wolf paused, mouth open. Drool spattered the chest of my Whitesnake t-shirt. With a shift of fur and muscle, the white wolf turned his head, looking over his shoulder. My breath held as Daniel stepped out into the pale light. He’d been in one of the cages, I just hadn’t seen him. As his father had been, he walked on two legs, though he was also in full wolf form, every inch buried in dark fur.

“This man saved me,” Daniel said, nodding toward me. “Even now, he risks his life for us.”

The large, white wolf turned his entire body, a lumbering movement as he maneuvered his large, old form.

“He— burned me, Daniel. Scarred my face.”

“He made— an error, father.”

“An error?” The voice was a snarl more than speech. “An error?” The growl rose in volume.

“Yes, father.” Daniel maintained his calm even while his elder roared at him, clearly on the edge.

“I have torn out men’s entrails for less.”

“I say again, father. He saved my life. He opened our cages. He has— redeemed himself, in my eyes.”

The white wolf snorted, his tail thrashing. I couldn’t tell if he was actually considering his son’s words or not. Huffing a rasped exhalation, the white wolf stood again, rising up on hind legs before he turned to look back at me once more. He studied me for a long moment as I desperately tried to read the expression on his face.

A sudden flare split the darkness, a short distance away in the cavernous room, a supernova star in the dark blackness of space. My heart locked and my breath caught high in my throat, my voice clamped into silence. Light seared the air, a sudden spear as it sliced through the white wolf as if he wasn’t even there.

Daniel’s father jerked and stomped forward, looking down at his chest where a sudden blossom of dark, red was spreading along his torso. He pawed at it, took another uncertain step, then toppled forward, hitting the catwalk with a resounding bang.

“Father!” Daniel stepped forward, then paused, turning toward the source of the light.

“I prefer to take them alive.” Lucas Androse stepped from the shadows, his enchanted rifle clamped in two hands, barrel at the ground. “But dead works, too, if there’s no other choice.”

A scattering of eyes flitted alight around him, the nocturnal glare of a dozen orcs revealing their presence on the far side of the room. Rising above him, a darkened silhouette framed against the sparse curtain of violet light— the second Realm Walker, drawing magic into his palms, preparing to attack.

“Orcs,” Androse hissed, “Walker of Realms— finish them.”

All at once, the quiet broke open into a wild cacophony of violence.