Pack of Wolves, page 22
“Why?” Cyrus rasps as the anguish clouding his eyes recedes enough for rational thought to take its place. “Did you send me here to face my brother? Were you trying to get rid of me? Do you really hate me that much?” I can see the wildness in his expression, the overwhelming fear and madness that all he’s endured has wrought.
My chin wobbles as I speak, and I cannot look him in the eye any longer. “I don’t hate you at all, Cyrus. In fact, I have a fresh perspective on everything that’s happened between us. Nobody deserves what you’ve faced, and if I had known what Wolf was up to, I would never have sent you here.” The words pour out of me in a hiccupping, tear-soaked confession. “I’m so, so sorry.”
Cyrus turns his face away from mine and mumbles something under his breath. Whatever he says, I think it is not meant for my ears. In fact, watching his eyes track to the right, I’d almost guess that he speaks to a figment of his imagination, a phantom in his mind. When he finishes, his shoulders are shaking with effort. “What is your plan?”
“It hardly matters. You’ll be dead before the night ends,” comes a seething voice from behind us as Wolf enters the tent. He grabs my wrist and tugs me outside toward the House of Piranhas. “It appears that you and I need to chat. Let’s go restructure your priorities.”
Wolf drags me up to the house’s porch, his feet slowing before they cross the threshold. A scream issues from upstairs, a woman howling in unimaginable torment. Another one dressed in a medic’s apron hustles down the stairs to the kitchen. She hauls a boiling tea kettle with her as she returns to the crying lady. “Lynx?”
“She’s been like that all night,” Wolf answers wearily, leaning against the wall as he listens to her cries. I wonder suddenly if the baby Ddraig I’d held back in the Pith would belong to Lynx’s child. “Why did you heal him, Iris? Have you forgotten what he did to you?” Wolf grips my arms tightly as he pulls me close to his chest, as if bodily proximity will somehow reawaken whatever I am supposed to feel for him. “This is all the Ddraig’s fault, isn’t it? It tells you he’s important and you believe it? Why would you take the word of that scaly overgrown lizard?”
I keep my voice deadly calm, wishing I could claw my way out of his grasp. “This has nothing to do with Siri. I know all about your past. You’re the one that gave Cyrus the scar on his face. You left him to die alone in the forest outside my old house. And I know that your father never gave the order for you to kill him. You did all that yourself.” My hands pat his chest softly, confusing ideas jarring my mind. Friend, monster, kind, murderer, gentle, crazed and brutal…who exactly are you, Wolf? “I cannot understand it. The persona that you’ve shown me is nothing like the child I’ve been told about, nor the self-serving conqueror I see before me now.”
Wolf drops his hold on me and jerks away, declaring, “I’ve never changed, Iris. I’m still the same man you’ve always known. But you were too blind or desperate to recognize it. You always came to me to do your dirty work! You needed a fighter, someone who could make the tough decisions no matter how terrible they were, so you never had to shoulder the guilt! I was that person for you, but you never allowed yourself to see the real me.” A wolfish smile overtakes his mouth, eyes glittering with cunning madness.
He was always rough, but I had clung to the idea that his actions were out of kindness toward me. “You’ve been good at disguising yourself,” I mumble, my body going rigid as I stare at the stranger in front of me.
“I am not a villain, Iris. But I never claimed to be a hero either.” His fingers reach to brush through my hair, and it is hard not to flinch. A dangerous game I am playing now. “Why did you heal my bastard brother?”
Suddenly, a crazy plan forms in my mind. Maybe you’ve been a good actor, Wolf. But now it’s my turn. I force myself to think on things that I find exciting, just to make my eyes sparkle. In many ways, I feel as though I am enduring a life in a mask once more. This persona, however, is not the Mynah bird I once loved; this face is a husk of brutality that I hope is strong enough to fool the monster before me. If it works, I just might be able to free Cyrus without any more bloodshed. “I wanted the pleasure of causing those injuries myself.” I lift the back of my shirt slightly to make my point, letting the scars of Falcon’s beatings speak for me. “Surely you can understand. I want his blood to paint my knife, to see the whites of his eyes as they roll back into his head because of the pain I’ve caused. I want him to suffer again; and I want him to know that it’s my hand causing the agony.”
Wolf doesn’t seem to notice my lies as he nods, a small smile catching me off-guard as he replies, “That’s my girl! But I want him gone by the morning. Can you have your vengeance completed by then?”
This time, I can answer with complete truthfulness. “Absolutely.” With any luck, all of the Ddraigs, Cadogans, and remaining prisoners will be free before the sun rises tomorrow.
***
“Are you clear on the plan?” I ask Siri one final time. After Lerual separated the grieving Ddraigs from the rest of the group, I explained my reckless idea to the others. Siri paces between me and the rest of the Ddraigs, her thin lips turned down at her disapproval.
“It’s too dangerous. You don’t even know if you can—”
“I’ll do what’s necessary. Just get everyone else out of here,” I bark back, a little louder than I should. Murmurs radiate through the Ddraigs the way water drops bring ripples. They disapprove of a Cadogan and Ddraig arguing publicly, but I don’t have time to stand on the basic rules of etiquette. We have to get Cyrus and the other potential Cadogans to safety, and even if Siri understands this, she doesn’t have to like it.
“Just be careful. Keep moving so you don’t end up a target,” my Ddraig mutters, her nose smoking as she lowers her eyes to my level. We stare at each other in silence, my heart breaking as memories of Wolf’s finer moments in our past parade through my memory. Why did he help me try to save Antero? Why did he protect me in Omphalos? Unless he does have some shred of true feeling for me. What if there is something good in him, buried deep in his heart because this brutal world does not allow for kindness? What if—?
“You seriously don’t believe that, right?” Siri answers my unspoken thoughts with a snort. “The Carreglas is never wrong, Iris. How much more proof do you need to rid yourself of these silly fantasies? At least seven Cadogans are dead because of him, and that’s just the ones that were freshly killed. There could be fifty more that we didn’t save! How many more must die before you realize how evil he is?” Siri motions to Lerual and the rest of the Ddraigs, whose heads are bowed low in their unspoken agony. “How many more grievers will you see?”
“I know…it is just a fool’s dream,” I murmur, heat flooding my cheeks with embarrassment. “Haven’t you ever just fantasized about things being easy to fix? Like it’s all just one big misunderstanding?”
“You’re being as bull headed about him as you accused Warbler of being about Creeper. And you know how that story worked out,” Siri barks, her blunt words piercing my heart.
Yet as much as I would love to shout at her, to disprove her argument, I know I cannot. “Enough, Siri,” I mumble, shutting my eyes in defeat. I know what’s true, Siri. I just wish I didn’t have to go through this.
“I just don’t want to see you end up dead by the likes of that monster! Can’t you understand? You cannot let yourself get distracted by these fancies! I’m trying to keep you safe, and—”
“I said enough, Siri.” I growl in annoyance. “I know what must be done. I’m just worried about the aftermath.” He’ll never stop hunting me after I betray him. He will lust for my blood or my head on a pike. This land makes us monsters; Cane had told me something similar once before. He was living proof of that statement, and soon enough I would be too. “I know this is the right plan. Just allow me a few moments to mourn for the illusion that had taken residence in my brain.” Everything will change after tonight. The ally that I’ve always counted on will become my greatest enemy.
“I am sorry,” Siri replies, lightly touching her chin to my head in a gesture of comfort. “Truly.”
Facing the Ddraigs who observe us, I command, “Fly low over the corrals, and if you find your Cadogans, pluck them out of the pen and get up into the skies where arrows and spears cannot reach you. Even if the Cadogans are screaming and wailing for mercy, do not stop.” Patting Siri’s nose absentmindedly, I wait and wonder where Suryc is hidden in all of this. Why has he not joined us? Is he still waiting for Cyrus? I hope that this evening’s escape attempt will bring the black Ddraig out of the shadows and back to our sides.
Siri smiles, a deep rumble of satisfaction pouring from her throat. “It sneaks up on you, doesn’t it? Caring for Suryc and his Cadogan. There’s just something about them that is alluring.”
“I agree, in part,” I whisper with a smile, anticipating the moment when I see Suryc safe and sound, back where he belongs beside Siri. “I’m not sure Cyrus will ever forgive me for what he’s faced though.”
“We’ll know soon enough,” Siri declares, but she cannot hide her own tremor of fear.
The golden hour finally makes its debut, the sun a gleaming spotlight as it sets in the west. I hurry to my position, testing out my plan as I run. Swirls and eddies of dust rise under my feet. If I concentrate, the wind will writhe at my command. How had I not noticed this before, all those years I spent running through the forest? I have missed a great many things in my life, haven’t I? Wolf’s cruelties, Cyrus’s virtues, the fact that my mother survived the windstorm. Just add not seeing my own Windwalker abilities to the pile of blindness and mistakes I’ve made.
When I’m sure the sun’s blinding rays will assist me in camouflage, I begin to dance. At first, I am unsure of how to move to build a strong enough storm, but the Windwalker’s powerful voice whispers and corrects my movements. Within the span of a few heartbeats, I am spinning along the earth, a line of tornadoes appearing in my wake. Shouts of alarm rise up from the people loyal to Wolf. Keep moving, the magic in my blood sings to life, intoxicating me deeper into its thrall.
“It’s the Windwalkers! They are coming for us!” Someone shouts as a volley of sharpened rock and fletched arrows pummel into my storms. They pass harmlessly around me. I’m too good at evasion. Unstoppable. Unbeatable. A relentless force that can destroy mountains with the gentlest whisper. I am a hurricane of power and rage.
“Iris!” At first, I lurch in fear that I’ve been discovered. Then Wolf shouts again, his hands covering his mouth to call again. Frantic, he searches the crowds, terrified for my safety. “Iris, come here!” He fears that I’ll end up like his first love, Lavender, dismembered by the enemy.
The small part of my disillusioned heart that still tenderly clings to the dream feels sorry for him. “I am fine, Wolf,” I whisper unthinkingly. “Just let me go.” Never did I stop to consider how my voice might carry on the breeze.
Yet the effect is immediate. Wolf stills his body, eyes landing on the exact place where I twirl. “You’re a Windwalker? How long have you known?” Throughout the chaos of his soldiers running into formation for an attack, none of them notice that the Ddraigs systematically lower themselves over the corrals, some plucking people out of the stalls as though they are wheat in a ripe field. Their screams as they rise to the sky sound no different than the soldier’s alarms.
“Not long,” I reply softly, with a lump building in my throat. Keep your eyes on me, Wolf, I demand, even though I feel no mental connection to him anymore. It is not an effort for him to watch me dance and writhe through my windstorms. I only pray that my movements will distract him long enough for the rest of the people to be saved. “I am sorry it must be this way.”
“You would choose Cyrus over me?” Wolf squints into the fading sunlight, his incredulous smile slowly shifting to a shuttered, dark expression. “After everything I did for you? After all the hell I’ve put my brother through, punishing him for his sins against you? I thought you understood how much I love you.”
“And I thought you knew me better than that. But it’s not just your brutality toward Cyrus,” I whimper, my skin beginning to itch and dry out from the force of the winds swirling around me. “I never wanted you to hurt anyone! I sent you to build a master house for a united front, so that we could fight Déchets. Not join them by becoming monsters too! They are a danger to—”
“The Ddraigs,” Wolf finishes my thought, spitting on the ground in disgust. “Everything you do now is for them, isn’t it? You follow a path I cannot take.”
“As do you, I fear,” I reply, the Windwalker’s magical, strange voice sighing through my thoughts. I am power. I can bring worlds to destruction with my dance. I am never ending. With the intrusive voice comes a lightness of feeling, a euphoria that demands I free myself from my troubles, succumbing to the power raging through my veins. The ache in my skin lessens even though when I look down at my fingers, I can see rough cuticles and cracked, bleeding patches of dryness. I can bring the Devil’s Spine down into a pile of gravel if I choose! Nothing—no one—can hold me back!
Fight it, Iris! Only a few more in the corrals, then we’re done, Siri bellows through our connection, momentarily clearing my mind. Don’t get lost in the magic!
“Tell me something,” I stall, struggling to keep the traitorous euphoria from pulling me away from my cause. “Why hurt the house members here? How does this help you?”
Wolf clicks his tongue as though scolding a child. “Fear is a wonderful motivator, Iris. It helped me separate the cattle from the carnivores. I’ll claim my title as king quickly because of the terror my name will strike into the hearts of man. Word will travel that I am brutal in my justice, and none will stand against me.”
Siri’s voice shouts in triumph, stilling my response before I can begin. The last one was just picked up. Three of your old housemates are among them. I’m calling out for Suryc, and once he gets Cyrus, we’re gone.
With a lump forming in my throat, my next words take several attempts before they can be voiced. “Our land does not need a ruler to be feared; if we did, we’d sign our allegiance over to Déchets. I will make sure that you fail, Wolf. We will meet again on a battlefield of our own design soon enough.”
“Oh no! You don’t get to just walk away from me! Not when I’ve got your precious—” Suryc’s triumphant screech rattles my bones as he soars up to join the rest of the Ddraigs. They swirl up into the clouds, easily disappearing from view. Cane looks around, noticing the canvas tent that’s now ripped to shreds and the empty stalls. “You asked me to lead, and yet you betray my authority like this?”
“I would not act a traitor if you had not become a tyrant.” It kills me to speak the words, my lungs threatening to seize up around my heart. Yet even as my limbs grow tired of the dance, my mind is alive with the peculiar voice. I am a tornado; I am destruction. I am the siren that leads men to their doom. Nothing can hold me. No one can stop me. I am a new force of nature, and I will not yield.
Cane’s head droops to touch his chin to his chest as a sigh escapes his lips. “If I ever catch you, the law dictates that you must be sentenced to death. And while I will never stop hunting you, I will always love you still. Even when your blood pools at my feet, I will love you.”
Without another word, he whistles to his troops. A sharp gesture of his fingers and all preparations for battle cease.
Fire blazes around me, destroying my line of sight. I feel heat rise in the storm surrounding me, the winds spiraling into an uncontrollable mania as the voice inside me cackles wildly. Siri hoists my numb body out of the violent winds I have created. Easy now, Siri murmurs in my mind, her voice stealing its way into the mysterious words of death and destruction. The Windwalker magic comes with a price, Iris. It can drive the user insane!
I wish you’d stopped me sooner, I reply as I struggle to quell the chaos inside me to a faint whisper. My skin feels raw, as if I’ve just scalded every inch of it by draping over a steaming tea kettle. Parts of my flesh are openly pouring blood; other dry areas crackle audibly when I move.
“These wounds will not heal through our bond, I fear. Your Windwalker magic stops me from aiding you,” Siri whispers regretfully, focusing on her flight back to the waiting Ddraigs and Cadogans. “We will find oil and animal fat to cover your wounds and rehydrate your skin. I fear some of these dry patches might leave scars, but maybe they will remind you of your limits.”
When she gently drops me to the ground, Suryc immediately appears, nuzzling Siri’s cheek affectionately. “Thank the gods you are safe. Were you followed?” If Siri answers, I do not hear her words.
He let me go, my heart cries as I curl into a ball on the ground and try not to scratch my bleeding skin. In every sense of the word. There is no turning back for me now. I tremble in response, fearing my voice will betray me.
“I think I am glad you are safe,” Cyrus mumbles feebly as he slowly rises from his hiding place a few feet away from me. “It is really you, isn’t it?” He moves disjointedly, as though his limbs have forgotten how to follow his brain’s commands. “And you are truly alive? I’ve…I’ve watched you die many times.” His words sound hollow as he holds out a hand to me.
