Toothbreaker, page 1
Toothbreaker
Daughters of Tamnarae
M.H. Elrich
Published by M.H. Elrich, 2020.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
TOOTHBREAKER
First edition. March 21, 2020.
Copyright © 2020 M.H. Elrich.
ISBN: 978-1393202127
Written by M.H. Elrich.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Toothbreaker
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Glossary
Map
About the Author
Although this book does not contain any sexual content or cussing, it does contain themes that may not be suitable for all readers, including a suicide attempt. I have portrayed these things to show how far that people can fall from God—and how far He will go to get them. If you struggle with depression or suicidal thoughts, please reach out for help. Your life matters, and this book is meant to show just that.
Prologue
The forest darkened and the trees closed in around them, making the path so narrow that only one horse could walk at a time. Etania’s father took the lead, putting Etania in the middle and Keyel at the end. Etania noticed that birds fluttered from one branch to another, calling out, but their voices seemed hushed. The horses’ hooves crunched over the leaf-strewn path.
They stopped only once, eating quietly and quickly before mounting their horses again. Jakin thought that they would wait until the Eritam found them, winding their way through the forest for days before the wolf-tamers arrived. Etania hoped that the Eritam would come sooner rather than later because she didn’t want to sleep on the forest floor.
Suddenly, she heard a loud and long howl, piercing the night with its mournful sound. She shivered, hoping that howl belonged to an ally. Another howl echoed through the night, sounding like a threatening growl, deep and equally long. Starlight moved uneasily beneath her, and Etania felt her pulse quicken.
"Master—" Keyel began.
"I know. Etania, load your crossbow!"
Etania dropped her horse's reins and pulled out her crossbow from the pack, grateful her father insisted she carry it in her saddlebags. She nervously put the bolt along the stock and lined it up as best she could. Despite a week's worth of practice, her hands were shaking.
"Master, what's..." Keyel said.
Before he could finish, Etania saw yellow and green eyes staring at her in the distance. Their horses trotted without command, and she heard the yips and barks of wolves coming from their rear. The wolves were closing in, loping and howling as they drew closer to their prey. The horses whinnied and reared, and all three of the travelers bailed lest they be stomped underfoot. Their mounts fled to the west, galloping away with their supplies before anyone could stand. Etania had no time to grieve the loss of her favorite horse, but instead focused on standing and arming herself.
Luckily, their weapons had come down with them. Keyel was on his feet first, sword drawn and shield ready. Jakin was next, lighting the dark forest with purple fire in one hand and a hammer in the other. Etania tried to keep her legs from wobbling as she peered into the darkness over the stock of her crossbow. They stood in a triangle, twirling around to see their opponents. All was silent.
Out of the darkness, a wolf leapt from the side. Etania instinctively shot it straight in the chest. It yelped and died, but Etania had no time to react as more jumped from the darkness. Keyel killed them with swift and efficient strokes. Her father burned them or whacked them with his hammer as he defended Etania, who struggled to load another bolt into her crossbow. These wolves took multiple hits to kill. Etania had been blessed with her first shot. She needed to hit the wolves coming from a distance so they wouldn’t be overwhelmed. Her heart was pounding and her palms were sweaty, but she took a deep breath. Concentrate. You have to help them!
She felt the coolness of the wood stock, the taut lever beneath her fingers, and fired.
She missed. Etania cursed, fumbling for another bolt. Keyel cried out, and Etania saw that his sword arm now bore bloody scratches. Making matters worse, her father's flames seemed like they were fading. She had to do something, anything, to help them.
Her Neuma—of course! But how could she project her Neuma in such a way that it wouldn't hurt her companions?
She looked at the bolt on her crossbow and smiled. Etania concentrated, trying to ignore the noise around her. She created a small flame of Neuma with her hands, lighting the bolt on the crossbow. She took a deep breath, trying to recall what Keyel had taught her. Feet apart, breath even, she aimed the crossbow and fired.
The bolt soared through the air, landing in a werewolf’s shoulder. Etania watched in shock as her Neuma transformed the werewolf, a cry of agony rising from the Skazic as its fur flew from its body. Suddenly, it was no longer a werewolf, but a man covered in fur! The other wolves shrank back from his abrupt transformation, and Keyel and Jakin took advantage of the situation, killing the rest of the pack.
When the battle ended, Etania looked for the man, and she couldn’t find him.
“Where is he?” Etania questioned.
“I don’t know,” a deep voice answered, “but I will find him and kill him.”
Chapter One
Pack healer Tamar Prevost tossed and turned in bed. It was close to the Eritam dawn, which was sunset for most people living in Tamnarae. Rain pounded on the roof of her home, and she could hear the constant dripping from the lip of the den mouth to the floor. She flipped again, swearing she would reinforce the wood covering, and tried to sleep again.
Pounding on the den door jolted her awake. Rubbing her eyes, she rose and walked toward the cave entrance, her wolf, Eponee, trotting behind her. Removing the wood covering, she stepped back as a silver-haired man stumbled forward. An iron bolt shaft protruded from his shoulder. He was soaking wet and bare-chested, only wearing a silver fur blanket that was tied around his waist. Tamar’s eyes widened. Even though she had seen many patients as a healer, this one was unique.
“Help,” he whispered.
“Of course!”
Apprehension gone, Tamar’s professionalism settled over her. She ushered the man into her exam room.
“Take a seat here,” she commanded him. She looked over at her wolf. “Fetch Falor.”
Eponee left as the man took a seat on the long bench Tamar used to diagnose patients.
“What happened?” Tamar put logs in a fireplace against the wall and started up a fire. “I thought they banned honor fights.”
“Who is Falor?” the man asked, evading her question.
“Falor is my apprentice,” Tamar said. She poured water from a bucket into a kettle and hung it over the fire. She faced him, her hands on her hips. “You didn’t answer me. What happened?”
“A lot has happened since I left this place,” the man said.
Tamar huffed. He still hadn’t answered her question. Deciding to drop the subject for now, she walked over to the man and examined his wound, wondering what he meant and whether he was delirious with pain. The barbed bolt had lodged itself in his shoulder, and didn’t protrude from the other side. She would need Falor to hold the man down while she cut out the bolt and pulled it from him. If the bolt had attached to his clavicle bone, he would leave with a broken bone and she could nick an artery. Her clinical examination finished, she wondered about his background. Her eyes searched his face.
“Do I know you?” she asked.
“A long time ago,” he replied.
“I brought the alcohol,” Falor called.
Tamar turned around. Falor, a young Eritam ten years her junior, stood in the doorway, mouth agape.
“Sage?” he said.
Tamar’s eyes darted to her patient. Redness crept into her cheeks as she examined his features: the sharp, angular chin, the bright, yet gentle, yellow eyes. Why didn’t I recognize him? She thought. After all, he and I used to be so close! It must be his hair. His long silver hair stuck to his wet back. When we were together, he had it short. And his eyes...were they always so hollow? So dark? Her heart began pounding in her chest. Hands shaking, she fetched the flask from Falor and shoved it at Sage. Not again, she thought. I won’t let my heart be broken again.
“Drink,” she commanded.
He obeyed, gulping for several minutes before handing it back to Tamar.
“Falor, clean my tools,” she said.
“But—” he began.
“Do you want to help him or reminisce?” she snapped.
Falor didn’t reply. He walked over to her set of small knives and poured the alcohol on them.
“Hold him down,” Tamar said.
Some part of her, the vengeful part, was glad she could remove the bolt head and cause him pain. The other part, the healer part, knew she had to be careful.
Sage lay down on the bench, and Falor put his hands on each of the Eritam’s arms. Tamar took her smallest knife and made a slight incision on the left side of the bolt head. Gently, she probed with her finger and widened the incision so she could see the bolt head’s depth. Sage groaned, and Tamar told Falor to give him more alcohol. From her probe, Tamar could tell that the bolt had reached his bone. She cursed.
“What is it?” Falor questioned.
“It’s in the bone,” Tamar said grimly. “I’ll need you to pull it out, since you’re stronger than me.”
“Oh, you’re admitting that?” Falor teased.
She glared at him. Now was not the time to be cracking jokes.
“I’m going to cut another incision to make enough room for the bolt head to come out, but you have to be firm and careful,” Tamar warned. “Any other nicks and you could cut an artery.”
“Or break a bone,” Falor added. “I know this stuff, remember?”
Tamar nodded. She felt the bone would break anyway, but she didn’t tell Falor that. She carefully made another incision and sterilized the wound with alcohol. Sage thrashed, forcing Tamar to take a step back. She gulped and steadied her nerves. She gave him more to drink, and his eyelids started fluttering. Perhaps he would black out, rather than fight them. Then, she switched places with Falor.
Falor put on gloves to grip the bolt better and began the process of removal. He tugged as firmly as he could, Tamar holding Sage down. Falor tugged again. Snap! The bolt head came free, throwing Falor back against Tamar. Sage cried out in agony. Tamar pushed Falor out of the way to assess the damage.
No arteries were nicked, but Falor had broken Sage’s clavicle. The bone protruded from the wound. Tamar gently pushed it back into place with her fingers, and Sage passed out. She checked his breathing, and seeing that he was fine, she went to work on the stitches. With efficient and methodical motions, she closed the wound. Tamar was about to prepare a poultice when Falor handed her a clean bandage with the herb mixture already prepared.
“Thank you.” She wiped the sweat from her brow.
“I told you I could do it,” Falor replied.
Tamar nodded once, her breathing feeling like it had stabilized. She wrapped the bandage over the wound and washed her hands.
“Now we’ll just need a sling for his arm until it heals,” she said. “Can you carry him to the back room?”
“Sure,” Falor said. “But Tamar, Sage has been gone a long time. There were rumors he is a—”
“Don’t say it,” Tamar cut him off. “I don’t care about the rumors. Jaira, his mother and my master, would’ve helped him. Besides, he’s also kin to you, right?”
“My cousin,” Falor said. Turning, he picked up Sage’s limp body to carry him out. His wolf, Leo, followed him out of the room. Eponee whined at Tamar, who patted her wolf’s white head.
“I know,” Tamar said. “I’ll feed you right after I get this cleaned up.”
Eponee nodded, falling to a lying position right outside the small room. Tamar then cleaned the area, using hot water and alcohol to mop and sterilize everything, as taught by the Leici. She had scrubbed most of the blood when she heard a loud knock. Going to the door with Eponee behind her, Tamar pulled it open. The rain had stopped, and a man with hair as white as hers stood towering by the entrance.
“Vartok!” Tamar exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
“Is that any way to greet your brother?” he growled.
“I’m just surprised,” Tamar said. “With Alpha Kayne and Sarai gone, you’ve been busy.”
“Yes,” Vartok replied. “Can I come in?”
Tamar nodded and led her brother to the living room, a small area made-up of chairs, a fireplace, and cupboards where she stored her food. Her brother took a seat on one of her chairs, his wolf sitting next to him. His knee moved up and down, and his eyes darted around the room. She wondered what could be wrong, but didn’t ask. Her brother tended to be one that took awhile to speak what was on his mind.
In the meantime, Tamar grabbed pieces of dried jerky and tea leaves from the jars in her cupboards. She gave jerky to Eponee and then offered some to Vartok’s wolf, Scipio. Tamar poured water into a kettle, tea leaves into the infuser, and hung the kettle over the fire to boil. By the time the wolves had gobbled down each piece of jerky, the tea was ready. She grabbed tea cups from her cupboards and poured tea for Vartok and herself. At last, with tea cups in hand, Vartok was ready to speak.
“I’ve come because of the Lehrling,” Vartok began.
“A Lehrling? Here?” Tamar questioned. “What for?”
“I’m not sure why he is here, but when he arrived, he and his party were being attacked by Toothbreakers.”
“Toothbreakers?” Tamar gasped.
Toothbreakers were Eritam who betrayed their pack by becoming Skazic, evil beings said to have sold their souls to Malstorm. They were usually enormous wolves unable to take human form, unlike the Eritam, who were only human wolf-tamers.
“You know, we’ve heard rumors of their activity for years,” Vartok said. “Jaira died because of them.”
“I know.” Tamar stared down at her hands.
She had been called to examine Jaira’s body when a hunting party discovered it. The body had been mutilated, almost beyond recognition. Tamar shuddered as she thought about it and wondered if Sage knew his mother had passed away.
“I’m surprised the Lehrling survived,” Tamar said. “An attack by Toothbreakers isn’t one many live through.”
“That’s because they had a Vexli with them,” Vartok explained.
“A Vexli? Surely not. I thought flesh-changers were stuff of legend...” Tamar trailed off.
Vexli were supposed to remove a Skazic’s powers and abilities, leaving them without any Neuma.
“So would I, but I saw the results of her Neuma with my own eyes,” Vartok said. “The Toothbreakers were men again, with fur loosely covering their bodies.”
Tamar’s mind flashed to Sage’s appearance, her heart quickening. Could it be? She thought, but quickly cut it off.
“Where is this Vexli now?” Tamar asked.
“Staying in the spring caves. She and her party will give me a full update in the morning.”
“Alright,” Tamar said. “But you still haven’t told me why you came here.”
“One of the Toothbreakers escaped alive,” Vartok said. “He was injured, and if he is from this pack, he would know you are our healer and come to you for help.”
Is Sage this Toothbreaker? Tamar’s mouth felt dry.
“Have you had any suspicious clients?” Vartok questioned.
“I—” Tamar began.
“Vartok!” Falor exclaimed, walking into the living room. He went to Tamar’s brother and locked wrists with him as a greeting. Taking a seat across from the Beta of their pack, he leaned forward, his hands tucked under his chin. “What brings you here?”
“I’m looking for a Toothbreaker,” Vartok replied.
Falor began laughing, but at Vartok’s glare, suppressed his mirth.
“You’re serious?” Falor said.
“Yes. He was injured, so I thought he might come here for help.”
Falor exchanged a glance with Tamar. She tried to keep her face neutral.
“No one came here,” Falor lied. “We’ve had a rather uneventful time.”
“I see.” Vartok glanced at both of them. Tamar tried not to flinch. Satisfied at his quick examination, her brother stood to his feet. “Well, I’ve stayed long enough. Let me know if you hear anything.”
Falor and Tamar nodded. Vartok gave Tamar a brief hug before walking out the door, Scipio following. As soon as she felt they were out of earshot, Tamar turned to Falor.
“Why did you lie?” Tamar questioned.
“Why did you?” Falor replied.
“I didn’t lie. I just didn’t say anything,” Tamar countered.
“Same thing.” Falor shrugged.
Tamar resisted slapping the man, but her glare must have gotten through to him, because he spoke up.
“I couldn’t turn in Sage, okay?” Falor said, “He was like a brother to me when I was little, and we don’t know for sure that he’s the one they’re talking about. We won’t know anything until Sage talks, and knowing the history between him and Vartok, I kept quiet. If you don’t like my decision, why don’t you run after your brother and tell him right now?”
Tamar bit her lip. She could do as Falor suggested, as his reasoning made sense. Sage could be evil, but Tamar wanted to find out for herself. She knew her brother was the “kill first, ask questions later” type, so Tamar would never get her questions answered if she turned Sage over to him.
