the day transporting the supplies back to the den. With the insurgents’ wagon out of commission, they had to move everything to their own wagons and ferry them back. Ettrias and Golmin helped guard the road while Talin provided protection for the column from the safety of the trees, and Ashera had joined the transports in the morning and decided to stay as an escort until they were done. Talin admired the girl, in an odd way; here she was, in a strange land, only twelve years old, but she did her part to help the Drakels.
Below, Ashera was happily chatting to one of the younger Draconian swordsmen in Torrian, occasionally pointing at objects around them. The Drakel would nod and repeat the word, then say something in Kier Dekkel. Talin figured she was trying to teach him Torrian and he was teaching her his language in return. She wasn’t sure how they had come to their arrangement without understanding each other’s language, but in any case, it was better communication than some of the disputes between kings. The wagons rolled on behind them.
A whistle sounded, signalling for the convoy to halt. Talin made her way to the front, keeping to the treetops, to see what was going on. Upon discovering that they were simply stopping the marching swordsmen for a rest, she sat herself down on a thick branch and lowered her bow. Ashera and the Drakel chatted on in their respective languages. Talin saw Bo’Kata watching the convoy from a tree on the other side of the little path they’d carved, and the two exchanged a brief, understanding look.
The whistle sounded again, and the swordsmen began to move. Talin pulled herself to the next branch and tried to keep up. Weeks of training had strengthened her muscles, but she knew she was in no fit state compared to Golmin or Ettrias, who often worked long hours after dark to sharpen their skills. All this climbing through the trees was going to make her sore in the morning. Red Wolf would probably laugh at her complaints and tell her he would go easy on her.
His version of ‘easy’ isn’t very easy at all, Talin thought. She hoped he was recovering; the full moon was tonight, and he would shift, assuming the torslek didn’t stop that too. He had told her that Corvan had tried a number of milder, Torrian poisons on him to control his shifting, but they had never worked.
But if the venom does stop him from shifting, does that mean his healing power is permanently gone too?
She preferred not to think about it. If his powers were gone, that would mean that he wasn’t likely to survive. He had to survive. She couldn’t lose him here.
This was the last convoy they had to escort; after this, all that was left was for the guards on the road to clean up and vanish without leaving any trace of where they’d been or where they had gone. Talin could soon see the outline of the den in the distance, the keep walls rising at the forest edge. They were safe now. She dropped down from the trees and accompanied the convoy on foot the rest of the way. Ashera continued chatting to the swordsman until they had to part ways at the gates, where the wagon was escorted to the warehouse for everything to be sorted and stored. The girl skipped off with a grin on her face, muttering the phrases she’d learned, and the swordsman seemed to be smiling too. Talin could never tell with the Drakels. She bathed and had her clothes sent off with the servants for washing, changing into more comfortable attire. Celio was busy changing Red Wolf’s bandages when she entered his room.
“Has he improved at all?” she asked.
“A little,” Celio said. “Tonight is the full moon. He tells me he draws his powers from the moon. He will improve further throughout the evening, I believe.”
Talin swallowed and tried not to betray her relief. “Thank you.”
“You care for him very much, I can tell,” Celio said, tying off the new bandages and wiping his hands.
“We’re friends,” Talin said. Celio didn’t respond.
“Let me know if his condition worsens,” the healer said instead, shuffling out of the room with his supplies. Talin was about to pull up the chair and sit when Ettrias burst in, still clad in his armour.
“He’s recovering?” he asked.
“Celio seems to think so,” Talin said.
“Kadis is calling another meeting. His spies have found the torslek suppliers.”
“That’s excellent news!” Talin followed him back out of the room.
Kadis and his officers had already gathered by the time they entered. Bo’Kata shuffled to make room for them.
“My spies tell me the torslek is being made by private brewers hired by the Elitists and warlords,” Kadis explained. “This makes it difficult to halt the supply. The good news is that all of the brewers are situated in one place to make the poison easier to transport in large quantities. Right here. Ked’Fald.” He positioned one of his flags on top of a large, fortified castle, several miles south of the den.
“That’s a castle,” Talin said.
“I’m aware.” Kadis sighed. “We have a dilemma, as you can see. With the supplies we have, we could either build our weapons to siege Ked’Fald, or we could ignore it and storm El’Vane. Either assault will be risky.”
“The insurgents are less protected in El’Vane. The city is not designed to withstand an extended siege. If we can hammer at their walls for a few days, we could get through—or try to starve them out,” Bo’Galesh continued. “Ked’Fald is well-fortified and well-supplied. We could be there for months. Of course, from this information, it might seem wiser to storm El’Vane. But if the Elitists have hired private brewers to make the torslek, they could more easily make large batches of the poison. Enough to…arm a city, perhaps.”
“If we are to siege El’Vane, we would have to spread out and blockade every gate,” Kadis said. “The insurgents cannot be allowed to smuggle their torslek into the city.”
“And they would get wind of your efforts to siege the capital,” Talin said. “Ked’Fald would start sending out as much torslek as possible, and to as many of their troops as possible.”
“Exactly.” Kadis made a low, rumbling sound in his throat. “We cannot allow the insurgents to distribute the venom.”
“Ked’Fald would be a better target if we wanted to prevent them from distributing it,” Talin said. “But I fear it will take too long to siege.”
“I’m worried about that too,” Kadis said. “The castle could survive for months in a siege, but we may not have the supplies to last that long. Besides, a few months is…perhaps too long for you and your companions.”
“Unfortunately so,” Talin confessed.
“Then we take El’Vane. My engineers will work on crafting better armour to withstand their blades, but if their alchemists find a way to make the poison potent in the air, we will not stand a chance,” Kadis said. “We will discuss strategy in the morning. This council is dismissed.”
Talin found herself by Red Wolf’s bed again after supper, long after the sun had dipped below the horizon and the full moon had risen. Golmin had told her that he shifted at dusk each time. Perhaps he would not be shifting tonight. The temperatures were dropping rapidly, too; Celio had predicted snow. Talin wasn’t sure what that looked like but had heard stories of blankets of white ash covering the Highlands in winter.
“My queen…”
Talin turned her head and almost jumped when she saw Red Wolf’s golden eyes locked on her.
“You’re awake,” she breathed.
“Hmm. Wish I…wasn’t. Why do you…visit so often?” he asked.
“I…don’t know what you mean,” she said. How could he know how often she’d visited? He had been unconscious for all of it.
“I hear it. The wolf smells it.” Red Wolf grimaced and pressed a hand to his side. “What…what’d they do? How did…my healing…fail?”
“Artificially brewed venom, native to the Draconian Empire,” Talin said. “But if you’re awake, it must finally be wearing off, surely?”
“Feels like it.” Red Wolf tried to struggle into a sitting position but soon gave up with a curse.
“Do you think…” Talin began. “If the venom stopped your healing to this extent, do you think it will work on the Hellhounds?”
“It seems likely,” Red Wolf said. He dragged himself to the edge of the bed and half-rolled, half-stumbled off, almost falling face-first onto the floor. “Help me…help me outside. Full moon’s…calling. I need to be out there.”
“You should rest,” Talin said. “The full moon came up hours ago, and if you still haven’t shifted…”
“I need…to be outside.” He staggered to his feet again and leaned on the windowsill, throwing open the curtains. Talin saw for the first time that flakes of white ash were falling from the sky, covering the ground below.
“What’s…?” she began.
“Snow, my queen. No doubt you’ve never seen anything quite like this before,” Red Wolf answered. “This is what a Highlander winter looks like when it gets cold enough in the mountains.”
“It’s beautiful,” Talin said.
“Come, fetch a coat. I will show you.” Red Wolf pushed himself away from the window again and somehow made it to the door without collapsing. He leaned on the doorframe heavily for a few moments before continuing.
“I don’t think you should be up and about like this—” Talin began, but he was already out of sight. “Oh, for the love of the gods.” She threw on a coat and caught up to him at the top of the stairs. He bent over and allowed her to duck under his arm to support some of his weight. Together, they made their way down and out of the den, stopping just before the archery range gave way to trees and shrubbery.
“You never did answer me,” Red Wolf said. “Why did you keep visiting?”
“You’re…well, you’re a…friend,” Talin said. “If anything happened to you, I’d feel responsible.”
“A friend?” Red Wolf’s expression faltered for the barest fraction of a second. “And here I thought we were supposed to have a…professional relationship.” He flashed her a teasing smile and bent down to scoop up some of the snow that was forming, placing it into her hands.
“It’s cold!” she exclaimed, dropping it.
“Yes, it is.” A snowball struck her in the arm. She looked up to see Red Wolf readying another one. “Whoops.”
“You know, I have a better aim than you.” Talin scooped up a handful of snow and flung it at his head. He brushed it off with a grin. His second snowball landed square on her hip. She flung another handful of snow at his face and laughed as he was forced to wipe it out of his eyes.
“Much as I’d like to continue this, I believe it’s time you returned to the den,” he said, looking up at the moon. “He’s dangerous. I doubt he’ll recognise you. If he sees you and decides you’re a threat, he will attack without hesitation.”
Talin shook her head. “I’m not afraid of him. He saved me at the border.”
Red Wolf began unwinding his bandages. “Perhaps, but I cannot take that risk. He is the one thing I cannot protect you from.” He let the bandages fall, and she saw then that his wounds had completely healed, leaving no marks behind, save for the old scars across his torso and arms. She didn’t dare ask about them.
“I won’t just leave you here,” she said.
“Please, I can’t—” Red Wolf dropped to his hands and knees with a roar of pain as bones cracked and reformed. Talin took a few instinctive steps back. Skin turned into fur and muscles rippled as he transformed. His hands and feet soon became huge, clawed paws, digging into the thick snow. She watched on, unable to look away, until all she could see was a massive, bear-sized wolf with streaks of red running through its coat. Golden-yellow eyes locked onto her, and she could see him, or whatever was left of him, as the wolf’s mind took over.
“Easy,” she breathed. The wolf stared back, unmoving.
I will not be afraid.
“Red Wolf?”
The wolf cocked its head at that and padded towards her slowly, paws leaving tracks in the snow.
“I know you remember me,” Talin said. “I know the world thinks you’re a monster.”
The wolf growled softly and continued stalking forward.
“You are not a monster.” Talin stretched out a hand gingerly. Her heart slammed against her ribcage hard enough for her to hear her own heartbeat. Part of her told her this was suicide, that she should run back inside as fast as she could before it was too late, but she stood her ground.
I will not be afraid.
The wolf stopped with his snout inches from her fingers, close enough that she could feel his breath against her fingertips.
He nudged her hand.
Talin’s fingers brushed against his head, and he seemed to allow it, waiting for her to pet him. She ran her hand down the side of his neck, through his fur, watching him in case he decided to attack. He never did. She lowered her hand again gingerly, and he let out another soft growl, stealing one last glance at her before stalking off into the forests beyond. Talin stood there for a while longer, unmoving, listening to her heart pounding against her ribs as the wolf disappeared through the trees.
Then she turned and headed back inside.