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Knights of Passion
Taming the Wolf Knight
Book 5
Chapter 1
For the first time in her life, Selene didn’t have an immediate plan. Zelda’s child was sick. She’d eaten something from the courtyard – no one could discern what – and had been coughing up blood for days since. Selene had to assume it was a rock or a stick. Children sometimes swallowed dangerous things. But there was no true way to know without the aid of a healer or a sorceress.
The knights were terrified. They blamed each other. They argued. They sat up with Aereth the night through, watching her sleep, waiting for more coughing and blood. Because they didn’t know what the matter was, they had no clue how to treat the sickness. They debated riding the girl to a healer in the nearest town, but reentering Priine could put them at risk of capture, and they had little coin between them.
Then one night, after Aereth had screamed, cried, and coughed blood for hours, Selene realized the child’s injury was not getting better and was, in fact, getting worse, and she knew what she must do.
“We have to do something,” Gweneth snarled.
The three knights were standing outside the door of the barracks where Aereth slept, in the dark and cool hall, as moonlight fed through the nearby window. Gweneth and Cassandra were facing each other while Selene sat on one of the wooden benches that lined the hall. Selene thought Cassandra looked as calm and serene as ever, even in the middle of their panic and fear. It was a little maddening, especially when Selene herself was ready to tear her hair.
“We cannot just sit here and watch her die!” Gweneth was saying angrily.
Selene thought it strange, but for once in her life, she was actually glad for Gweneth’s emotional display of frustration. It made her feel better about her own misery. She felt so helpless, watching that sweet child suffer, knowing the hurt it would cause them all – cause Zelda – if she should perish.
Cassandra turned and faced the window, her hands in her trouser pockets. She looked almost angelic as moonlight streamed over her pale skin and hair. “I already suggested writing to Melvalda and my mother for aid. Both of you refused. What else do you wish of me?” There was a bitter, tired note in her voice, and Selene had to remind herself that Cassandra was as frantic and unhappy as they were, even if she did not show it.
Selene and Gweneth exchanged guilty glances, but Cassandra’s words were true. When Cassandra suggested sending a raven to Melvalda for aid, they both declared that they would chop off Melvalda’s head if she even set foot in the gate. As far as Selene and Gweneth were concerned, Melvalda was evil. She had coerced Zelda into laying with her, had nearly taken Aereth for her own, and had attempted to keep Cassandra trapped in the enchanted form of a child – all to soothe some old wound of hers from twenty-odd years before. She was a selfish, dangerous, evil old woman, whether Cassandra could see it or not.
“I . . . have an idea,” said Selene heavily, and the others looked at her.
Selene dropped her forehead in her hand and couldn’t believe she was even bringing it up, but they were out of options. “It will require some travel,” she said, “and we must abandon Wolf Fortress. Probably for quite some time.”
Gweneth waved an impatient hand, gazing at Selene intently. “Tell us your idea.”
Selene lifted her face. “We must travel north of Dark Bloom, to a small town near Menosea. My grandmother lives there.”
“Can she help the child?” asked Cassandra sharply.
“My grandmother is an elven witch,” said Selene quietly. “She is . . . quite powerful. She hates humans, but she will aid us. There will be a price, but she would never turn a sick child away.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” said Gweneth impatiently. “Let us depart!”
They set out immediately. The knights donned their armor and repacked their satchels. Selene gently wrapped little Aereth in a blanket and tied the blanket around her chest as a makeshift carrier. Then she headed down to the stable, where the others were waking the horses. The Knights of Falcon mounted their steeds and galloped off into the night.
They kept mostly silent, riding as fast as they could. Selene knew there was no portal that could take them close to Eldaris, the village where her grandmother dwelt and where she had grown up, surrounded by elves. They would have to make the journey there on horseback and hope they reached the village soon enough.
As if the sickness in her sensed something, little Aereth was quiet for the duration of the journey. She did not scream, cry, or cough blood, instead sleeping deeply in the blanket that wrapped her, only opening her eyes to suck the milk-soaked rag that Selene occasionally offered.
As they traveled, they encountered no one. No Rose Guard knights, no monsters or wolves. Just cascades of flowers and crickets chirruping. They did not even see a sign of Wilde Women in the trees, which would have been welcome, considering the circumstances.
“Do you think the Wilde Women would aid us?” Cassandra wondered one night as they sat around the fire at camp. “They have magick of their own, and Aereth is the child of one of their greatest warriors.”
“Was the child of one of their greatest warriors,” Gweneth corrected. “Yrsa was defeated by Calain, remember? And in front of her whole clan. If they didn’t exile her, then they killed her. Either way, Aereth wouldn’t be welcome among them.”
“They would turn away a sick child even if it were one of their own?” Cassandra said in disbelief.
“Aye,” said Gweneth heavily.
Selene thought that cruel but said nothing as she gently rubbed the milk-soaked rag against Aereth’s lips, coaxing her to suckle. “If only Zelda were here, she could feed the girl for us,” she muttered, for she had grown weary of trying to make stubborn Aereth suck the wet rag.
“If Zelda were here, this wouldn’t be happening,” said Gweneth. “I suspect whatever ails the babe is magick in nature. Some lurking creature saw an opportunity and took it.” She glanced at Cassandra. “Are you sure you found nothing in the courtyard?”
Cassandra shook her head. “I searched it all over, but the vibrations there were normal. Nothing sinister whatsoever. I cannot fathom it.”
“What was she doing right before she took ill?” Selene asked.
“She was looking in the pond,” said Gweneth helplessly, as if it were the most innocent thing in the world. “She kept trying to get at it all day.”
“Hmm. The pond,” said Cassandra thoughtfully.
“Does it mean something?” Gweneth asked.
Cassandra sighed and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “There’s probably nothing more magickal than water,” she said heavily, “but that still doesn’t tell us what sort of curse was put on the child.”
“Grandmother will know,” said Selene. “Just a little further, and we shall come to her village.”
They arrived at Eldaris the next day, after having been set upon by Skoll Wolves on the edge of the forest. Gweneth and Cassandra took care of the wolves easily, while Selene stayed aloft on her horse, clutching Aereth tight with one arm as the child sobbed and wept in fear.
Like Arinol, Eldaris was a small fishing community. It was built right along the beach, on the shores of the Arinath sea, and while there was no snow, it was still quite cold. People wore coats and hats and gloves and staggered up and down the sand with capes flaring. Only in the summer was it warmer, and at the moment it was Fall.
And though Eldaris was small, with barely four hundred elves living in it, it was always full of hustle and bustle because of so many elves going to and from Menosea, the mysterious island to the north. Menosea housed a coven of elven sorceresses, the Order of Tirathell, as well as – supposedly—the underground training cell of Venom Six, an order of elven assassins, and also – again, supposedly – the headquarters of the elven resistance. Most of what went on at Menosea was based on hearsay. It was only known for a fact that the island housed a school of magick and that boats were always coming and going back and forth with supplies.
Selene stood on the edge of the village, having dismounted Apple, and stared at the place she used to call home. It looked exactly as it had when she’d left it. All the houses had the same strange elven shape to them, with roofs like sunken cones and front steps that were rounded off, not cornered, so that it looked as if the steps were made of water or large pebbles.
As ever, it was a dark and gloomy day in Eldaris and looked as if it was going to rain. Elves were heading out to fishing boats, or else returning at the dock with large nets weighed down by fish. Children were running and playing, pigtails flying, and Selene saw a little dog chasing two girls up the middle of the street, leaping playfully at their skinny legs.
As she stood there, Selene thought of her own childhood, how she’d run in bare feet through the sand during the summer, how her grandmother had scolded her for collecting seashells that still had creatures living inside. The other children hadn’t liked her. She was a human and all the children in Eldaris were elves. She didn’t belong there. And even now, standing there holding Aereth, she felt like an outsider looking in. It was as if she had never even lived there, for elves who had known her as a child and recognized her now as an adult simply turned their backs and ignored her.
“Are you well, Selene?” asked Cassandra with concern.
“Aereth isn’t well. That’s what matters,” Gweneth firmly reminded them.
Selene shook herself and steeled her heart against the glares and cold-shoulders. “Come,” she said and led the way down the street, pulling Apple’s reigns.
Selene led the others through the winding streets, to a small hut with the same cone-shaped roof as the others. As they went, elves peered from windows or else stood in their sand-swept yards, whispering and staring. Selene and the knights drew near the hut, leading their horses behind them. They hadn’t left behind Calain’s horse, Arthur, for they had no idea when, if ever, they would return to Wolf Fortress. The horse followed cautiously behind them, his reins tied to Cassandra’s horse, Sunny.
They stood outside the hut and gazed up at it, looking for smoke and signs of occupancy. Seashells and green algae and the nests of seagulls were all stuck to the roof as if someone had glued them there. Selene could see a thin wisp of smoke rising: her grandmother was home.
Selene took a deep breath, steeling herself again, and releasing Apple’s reins, she climbed the step and knocked on the door, one arm cradling Aereth in her swaddling. Then Selene stood there waiting. She heard Gweneth and Cassandra dismount and draw near behind her, heard movement within the hut as her grandmother stirred. The old woman’s face appeared in the window near the door, pinched and angry and small, as Selene remembered it. Then the door flew violently open, and Selene looked down at her tiny grandmother.
Neserie was a small old woman with a hunched back, barely four feet tall. She wasn’t pretty by any means, with a wart on her chin and a toothless mouth that was sucking inward in folds of skin. Her wrinkles were so heavy, they nearly obscured her face, and her white hair was a long curtain falling either side her biting, pitiless black eyes. In her pointed ears were rings of gold. She was wearing a patched little dress and no shoes or socks and she smelled like garlic. Selene thought her grandmother looked exactly like a witch in a child’s tale.
Neserie stood there in the doorway, looking up at Selene as if she had interrupted her nap. “What in blazes are you doing here?” she said angrily. No greeting, no concern, just immediate disapproval and annoyance.
Selene was so used to her grandmother’s hatred that she didn’t blink an eye, but she knew Gweneth and Cassandra were likely standing shocked behind her.
“I thought I told you never to come back,” went on Neserie. “I know you’re a fugitive. If you’re looking for a place to hide, it’s not here.”
“Gods be good,” muttered Gweneth in disbelief.
Neserie glared past Selene at Gweneth. “And you brought your raggedy knight friends with you. The nerve! Not that I blame them for slaying Ellanara, but I don’t want any trouble.”
Selene took a shuddering breath and said, “Grandmother, this child needs healing.” So saying, Selene opened the bundle to reveal Aereth’s small, pained face.
“A human brat,” said Neserie indifferently. “It isn’t yours. You’re sterile, thank the gods! Why should you care?”
“It is my lady’s child,” answered Selene calmly. “I am sworn to protect them both.”
“And now that you’ve failed them both, you’ve come to me. Hmph. Just like your damned father.”
Selene’s father, Emyr, had been a highborn human knight of a noble family. He was injured in a battle on the edge of Dark Bloom and was brought to Neserie for healing in Eldaris. It was how Selene’s parents had met.
Selene’s mother, Gilme, had been a simple fish-netter, heading out on her boat every morning to catch fish she could sell to the Order of Tirathell. Like Selene, she had never shown any aptitude with magick nor any desire to learn. When she saw Emyr sleeping in her mother’s house, she loved him. And when Emyr awoke to her singing, he loved Gilme.
Emyr’s parents had been as pleased as Neserie to learn that their son had eloped with a common elf, which was to say not pleased at all.
“Please,” said Selene, offering the child again. She knew that if she kept Neserie focused on the child’s pain that she would win her over.
Selene was right. Neserie looked at Aereth’s miserable face again, and her pinched, angry face softened in sympathy. Grudgingly, she held the door open as she said, “Fine. Bring the babe inside.”
Relief filled Selene and she led the others inside the cool, shadowy hut.
Neserie’s hut was one floor, but there were several rooms all sectioned off by curtains of seashells. Neserie led them to the room where she often nursed back to health those sick and injured who came to her. It was a small, plain room with one low, wooden chair, a nightstand, and a single, narrow bed against the wall. The small square window that stood over the bed shed a pale beam of sunlight across the sheets.
Selene gently laid little Aereth on the sheets and hovered anxiously over her, loath to leave. She was unhappy but not surprised when Neserie shooed them all out, telling them to wait in the front room and not to touch anything.
“Your grandmother’s a bit shite,” said Gweneth when they were all sitting on grass mats in the front room.
A low fire was blazing in the firepit. Selene stared into the flames, straining to hear what her grandmother was doing to Aereth. She could just barely hear murmuring and chanting. The smell of incense grew strong.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were half-elf?” Gweneth went on. She sounded a little hurt that the information had been kept from her.
Selene looked up. Gweneth was staring at her. So was Cassandra, though her eyes were full of pity with no hint of bafflement or surprise.
Selene looked back at the fire as she said, “Is it not obvious? I grew up in an elven village where I was shunned for being half-human. Then Grandmother sent me away to a human order to become a human knight. I didn’t wish to be shunned for being half-elf.”
“No, instead you were shunned for being bossy and obnoxious,” teased Gweneth. She looked across at Cassandra. “Remember what she was like? Always telling us what to do!”
“I thought she was a rather short instructor myself,” joked Cassandra.
Selene smiled, listening in content as they teased her and suddenly very glad they were there. All her life, all she had ever wanted was to belong, to be loved. She had only ever known the comfort and joy of acceptance with the Knights of Falcon.
The knights looked up when Neserie hobbled into the room. She folded her arms as she said bitterly, “Well , you’ve really done it. You let the child eat food not of this world.”
Selene went still. “What does that mean?”
“It means she is being pulled into another dimension,” answered Neserie impatiently. “Likely by the fae. They’re the only ones mad enough to steal little brats. All that soiled swaddling and the constant screaming and whining.” She looked with narrow-eyed dislike down her crooked nose at Selene. “Brings back so many memories.”
It was Selene’s turn to be impatient. “Is there nothing you can do?” she said, getting to her feet.
“I placed the child in deep slumber,” Neserie answered. “It won’t stop the transition, but it will slow down the process.”
Selene held out her hands. “Is there no way to stop it?!”
Neserie lifted a brow, arms still folded calmly. “With your sword, girl? No. With magick? Yes. Unfortunately, I cannot venture into Elwenhal to bring the child back. She doesn’t know me. She would not listen if I beckoned.”
“Can none of us be sent?” Selene desperately implored, and behind her, Gweneth and Cassandra rose to their feet, nodding seriously.
Neserie snorted. “The human? No,” she said, nodding at Gweneth. “You are also too human,” she added disdainfully as she gazed at Selene. Her thoughtful eyes went to Cassandra. “But your other friend, she has the blood of the Tula-Dan. I can see it in her.”
Selene shook her head. “But what does all that matter?”
“Humans aren’t allowed in Elwenhal,” said Neserie, “unless they are babes, or unless they force their way in with magick.” Her thoughtful eyes went to Cassandra again, scanning her with interest. “Your friend has magick and the blood of the old elves. I could send her to Elwenhal, but there is no guarantee she could return. If her magick was stronger... but it isn’t.” She shook her head. “And I sense such potential in you, child. But you became a knight? Such a waste.”
Cassandra barely reacted, remaining calm and serene as ever, though Selene noticed a slight line of irritation appear between her brows in the barest of frowns.
“Then send me,” Cassandra said, seriously and dutifully. “My lady’s child is in peril. We cannot afford to linger.”
Gweneth stepped close to Cassandra and said in a low voice, “Do not martyr yourself, Cassie! If your magick isn’t strong enough –”
“Calm yourself, Gweneth,” said Cassandra soothingly. “I shall find Aereth in the other realm and keep her from the fae as long as I can. In the meantime, you must find Zelda! She is our only hope now.”
Gweneth nodded, but Selene knew she felt as frustrated as she did: how were they supposed to find Zelda? Only one of them was Bound to her, and that one had abandoned them.
“This way then, child,” said Neserie, leading Cassandra down the hall.
Gweneth watched Cassandra and Neserie leave the room and shook her head darkly as she said, “None of this would be happening if not for Calain.”
“Gwen . . .” Selene said wearily.
“Tis true and you know it,” snarled Gweneth. “She is reckless and irresponsible and a child! She turned her back on her duty, and it upset everything. We are lost without her!”
Selene tried to find the words to defend Calain, but she knew Gweneth was right. Calain had left the group, upsetting a balance they hadn’t consciously been aware of, and now. . .they were lost.