Forged by Greed (17 page)

Jatred grunted in discomfort and
shivered. His concentration doubled and any prior fears vanished. He felt
strong and confident, the way he had never felt before. The Garhanan didn’t
scare him anymore, and now Jatred viewed the monster as a minor nuisance;
something that he needed to deal with quickly and efficiently.

In his peripheral vision he
saw a pack of huge wolves, walking out from the woods. They bowed to Crystal
and sat in a safe distance. The wolves’ coats varied from silver-gray, to black,
to pure-white.

With an ear-rending roar, the
Garhanan charged forward, its mouth wide open, spit flying. Dark lips were pulled
back to show short, stocky, uneven teeth. Jatred moved quickly to the side. But
the beast managed to scrape his upper arm with its thick claws. A burning pain shot
through the wound, and Jatred winced and gritted his teeth. Blood streamed down
his arm in a bright-red ribbon, dripping onto the snow. The wolves yelped in
distress. He felt strange, boiling anger surge through him. He watched the Garhanan
stop and turn around. Its beady eyes assessed Jatred. The monster calculated
his next move. But Jatred already knew the best tactic, as if some experienced fighter
controlled his mind and body.

With a speed never seen in
humans, Jatred turned and jumped, throwing himself onto the monster’s back.
Right before landing, he bent his elbow, drawing the arm back and forth. His
fist hit the creature’s meaty, flat ear. The Garhanan bellowed. Its head jerked
under the impact, and the monster staggered. Jatred leapt to the ground and
rolled away. The wolves howled and barked in applause.

The beast faced Jatred again.
He tried to deliver another strong blow, this time onto his opponent’s nose.
The Garhanan quickly moved its head. Jatred’s fist flew a few inches away from
its face.

The monster grabbed Jatred’s extended
arm and pulled him down to the ground. Jatred didn’t have time to react. He
smacked the snow-covered ground with a thump. The creature moved to grab his
hair, but Jatred rolled swiftly away. He scrambled to his feet. His elbow hit
the ground when he fell. Despite the pain, he punched the Garhanan in the face.
The monster blocked the blow with its
arm. It flailed its
other arm toward Jatred, leaving three deep, parallel slashes in his cheek. Jatred
yelled and charged forward. The blood trickled from his new wounds.

The wolves snarled and yelped,
pacing. Crystal watched the fight in silence, motionless. Her brows were drawn
together, her arms folded over her chest.

Even with his injuries,
Jatred’s concentration only became stronger. He flung himself onto the beast,
grabbing its ears. He smashed his forehead hard onto the creature’s nose, then
pushed himself off to get out of the Garhanan’s reach. The monster roared even
louder, its nose broken. Dark blood dripped heavily onto its white fur.

The wolves’ barking and
growling oozed with excitement. Jatred kicked the beast in the crotch. The
Garhanan bent forward and wheezed pitifully. The next kick hammered the beast’s
throat, breaking its neck with a dry snap. The Garhanan fell to its knees, its
head lolling toward its immense chest. For a few seconds it looked as if the
creature would stay in this prayer-like position. But then the massive body
swayed forward and fell with a loud thump onto the blood-splashed mud.
 

No one dared to make a noise.
Jatred dropped to his knees, right by the Garhanan’s steaming body. He felt
relief mixed with remorse. This was the first time in his sixteen-year-old life
that he had killed another being. Even as a wolf, Jatred didn’t need to hunt
like his ancestors. He and the other Shifters were products of a long and
complicated evolution that left them more human than animals.

What have I done?
A cascade of guilt
washed over him. Even fighting for his life couldn’t, in his mind, justify his actions.
And how was I even able to beat the
Garhanan
? This was his last thought before the Winter Goddess spoke. Her
voice was cold and free of emotion.

“You are a good a fighter. But
your abilities are intensified here. The ancient Spirits of the Realm enhance
your performance. That fire ball that shot into you was one of them.”

All the wolves were now pacing
nervously. Crystal ignored the commotion and continued, “You fought bravely.
I’m pleased with your abilities, but…” her voice hung in the crisp winter air.
“I am still unhappy about the Amulet.
Never
before has it left the Winter Shifter’s
hands during our turn of its custody
. It must permanently stay
within the Royal family circle, Prince Jatred.”

Jatred wanted to speak, but
his throat constricted.

“I will not let you get away
with it, Prince Jatred, whether you did it on purpose or by a mere accident.”
Now the Goddess’s voice lacked any emotion. “You will stay frozen, until I
decide what to do with you.”

The wolves that had gathered
around had already changed into their human forms. There were several girls and
boys, all teenagers. Bogdan, Lusia, Erik, and Georgeta stood next to several
others. The Goddess’s words made them all protest with shouts of disbelief.

Before Jatred could even feel
scared or surprised, he lost his ability to think or move, and all his senses
were gone. The enhancing Spirit shot out of his body and vanished. Jatred
became a frozen sculpture of a kneeling teenager.

A low murmur rolled like a
wave through the group of Shifters. They looked wide-eyed at the scene in front
of them: the frozen kneeling form of Jatred and the furry Garhanan, laying in
the blood-soaked, feet-stomped muddy slush. It started snowing and, before
long, both figures looked peaceful, and completely blended in with the
immaculate, white surroundings.

              
                                 
                 
CHAPTER 19

Human World, November 16,
evening.

The furniture in a small
bedroom was sparse but well put together. Two large posters hung on the
opposite walls: Star Wars and Seattle International Film Festival. Books
spilled onto the floor from a solid-wood bookcase. Bogdan and Lusia sat in a in
a tight embrace.

“I feel so helpless.” Bogdan’s
voice was sad. He ran his fingers through his sandy-blond hair for the sixth
time in the last ten minutes.

“Bogdan, there is absolutely
nothing you or anyone of us can do for Jatred now,” said Lusia. Her face was
wet from tears, her nose the color of a ripe tomato. She fumbled in her pocket
and pulled out a large, wrinkled handkerchief.

 
“Lusia, stop crying.” Bogdan gently caressed
her spiky auburn hair. “We’ll think of some solution.” Both of them needed such
words of encouragement. Neither one actually believed what was said possible.

Lusia sat up straight. She
started to dab her face with the kerchief, then blew her nose loudly.

Bogdan looked at her in
disbelief. “Use Kleenex. It’s more hygienic.” He took a sip from a soda can. He
winced, and his hand went to his jaw.

“Does it hurt?” Lusia asked.

“A bit. I wonder if the
Goddess threw us out of Winter Realm like this on purpose. Is it always like
that?” He massaged his jaw.

“That nasty bruise is already
gone. You should stop hurting soon. What did you hit?”

“Some stupid decorative
boulder. I was lucky I didn’t break my glasses. This is the last pair I have
now. Are
you
okay?”

“Sure. I landed on top of you.
I think Georgeta is fine too. But Erik got the worst of it.”

“Yeah, I thought he broke his neck
on that tree. He said he actually blacked out for a second.” Bogdan winced
again.

“The tree snapped in half. Must’ve
hurt like son of a bitch.”

“It was a small tree.”

“Still. Poor Erik.” Lusia
shook her head.

Bogdan looked at her incredulously.
“Poor Erik?”

“Oh, you know. I always worry
about everyone.” She kissed him on the cheek. “I’m glad
you’re
fine though. No more trips to the Winter Realm, okay?”

“Unless Crystal summons us
again.”

There was a knock, a pause,
and the door opened slowly. Georgeta poked her head in. She smiled and asked,
“How are you two doing? Recuperating?”

“Come here.” Lusia motioned to
her.

Georgeta sat next to Lusia.

“Darn it. Sometimes I just
wish I was a regular human. Life would be so much easier.” Anger rippled
through Lusia’s voice.

“Lusia, don’t get upset again.
We’re wolves; we’re strong.” Bogdan hugged her and kissed the top of her head.
“There must be a way. Has anyone ever appealed to the Goddess?”

“We shouldn’t start anything
we’re not prepared to finish.” Georgeta’s forehead furrowed, which made her
look much older than her fifteen years. She was two years younger than Bogdan
and Lusia. ”Even talk like this gives me the creeps. I don’t think this can be
done. Crystal’s so freakin’ mean.”

“Where is Erik?” Bogdan asked, looking at Georgeta.

“Still in the shower, complaining about his head. He’s fine though.
Don’t worry.” Georgeta sighed and looked at the window. Dark clouds covered the
sky and delivered a clear message of an upcoming storm. “Hope we won’t lose
power.”

There was a loud knock on the door, and a low muffled male voice
announced, “It’s me. Everyone decent? Can I come in?”

The door opened wide, and Erik walked in. “Ah. I didn’t know you’re
here too, Georgeta. Everyone alive and peachy?” He looked from one person to the
next.

Each of the kids nodded, and a series of grunts and moans
followed.
 

Erik scratched his chin. His sunny-blond hair was still wet from the
shower and carelessly slicked back. He crossed the room in just a few steps and
stood, looking out the window. His tall, muscular body blocked a big portion of
the late-afternoon light, making the room feel even smaller than it was.

The old trees outside the
window creaked and swayed. Legions of leaves flew on the wind’s wings. The wind
was growing stronger, bullying a row of skinny trees with its power. They
swayed uncontrollably, bending their trunks toward the ground. The rain made a
pact with the wind and whipped everything in sight, ruthlessly drenching it all
until there was not a dry spot for miles.
  

“I think the key is to know what the Goddess is playing at,” Erik’s
voice was pleasant, almost soothing.

“I agree.” Georgeta stood and joined her adoptive brother by the window.
Her head barely reached Erik’s wide football-player chest.

“What do we know about the Amulet, since it seems to be the apple of
our Goddess’s eye?” Georgeta turned away from the window and lit more candles.
There were many, all half-burned, all close together on a simple metal tray.
The wax spilled from each in elaborate shapes.
 

“It’s ancient. It dates itself to the beginning of both Races,” said
Bogdan, playing absentmindedly with Lusia’s spiky hair. “My folks don’t want to
talk about it, but they once told me it was commissioned by our Goddess for the
first Winter Prince. He was announced the Prince by Crystal after an especially
bloody competition between the candidates for the first Royal Family. They
fought to the death.”

“Savages,” murmured Lusia. “I’m glad we’ve evolved to more civilized
creatures. On the other hand, our Goddess seems to be stuck in the past for
good.”