Moon Rise (Twilight Shifters Book 2) (15 page)

Lars could not help his head popping up the moment he saw them.  His body vibrated with excitement.  Finn rushed over to free him from the silver harness while Aein ran over to the bush to see if it had been damaged.  What if their decision to save Finn had led to the destruction of the only cure?  What if Lars's feelings for her and his fear for her safety, what if his willingness to do anything to keep her safe, cost everyone their future?

Finn cursed.  "Why won't this harness let me unbuckle you?"

Suddenly, a panting man raced into the clearing.  Aein spun around, knife drawn and ready to throw.

Standing there, naked sword in hand, was Lord Arnkell.  His eyes were wild and his face was white as a sheet.  He stared at Aein in disbelief.

"Are you a trick of the fog?" he asked.

"S
PEAK!" he shouted at her.  "Tell me if you are real or a phantom of the fog or I shall cut down this wolf that you once held so dear!"

Finn rose and pulled out his sword.  Aein held up her hands to stop him.  "I am real!" she said.  "I am real..."

Lord Arnkell lowered his blade.  He wiped his face with his hand.  "Thank the gods.  Oh thank the gods our prayers have been answered!"

But Finn was not ready to believe they were the answer to anyone's prayer, much less Lord Arnkell.  He spun the hilt of his sword to adjust his grip, keeping the tip up and ready to fight.  "Just let us go with our friend and we shall leave you forever..." warned Finn.

"No!" said Lord Arnkell, panicking.  "NO!  You cannot leave!  You cannot leave us to these... these... things!"

Finn glanced back at Aein in confusion. 

"What things?" asked Aein slowly.

"There are monsters," said Lord Arnkell, waving his sword out at the swamps.  "There are monsters everywhere.  We retreated here.  It is the only place they cannot enter.  We keep trying to leave the swamp, but the fog... the fog won't let us.  It keeps turning our feet and we keep ending up here.  Why won't it let us leave?"

Lars whimpered and she realized that while Lord Arnkell may not have set a trap for them, they were trapped nonetheless.

"What do you mean?" asked Finn.

Lord Arnkell seemed terrified and weak.  Dark circles ringed his eyes and his face looked haggard and old.  Aein realized it was the first time in his life he had not been in control.  This was the first time he wasn't surrounded by people who were ready to make his nightmares go away.  He had never been to the swamp before, never faced the fog, never seen the creatures of the border.  He always sent someone else to do it.  And for whatever reason, the swamp decided to give him a full taste of what he missed.  He motioned impotently with his sword.  "You have got to get us out of here."

"Why should we help you?" asked Aein.

"Because there are monsters here," explained Lord Arnkell, his eyes wild, "just like my father once warned me.  They are coming through the border and soon the swamp will overtake the land.  The edges are already shifting.  It will eat up everything my family has fought for, just as the prophesies foretold.  We have to stop these creatures before they get out.  None of us will survive if we don't stop them."  He threw aside his sword and fell against Finn, grabbing him by the shirt and begging on his knees.  "We have been fighting the creatures of the swamp since the day we arrived.  Since the moment we arrived!  You must save me.  I shall go mad!"

"You mean like you left Lars here in the swamp to go mad?" Aein reminded him.

"I was wrong..." blubbered Lord Arnkell.  "I was a fool and didn't know..."

"I should run you through where you stand," said Finn, his words cold and impartial.

"You need me as much as I need you," warned Lord Arnkell.  "Just try to get back to the edge of the swamp.  Just try.  You'll see.  You'll be picked off by harpies.  Eaten by ogres.  Set on fire by chimera.  The swamp will never let you leave.  There is only strength in numbers.  Help me get out and I will help you get out, I promise."

"We will part ways the moment we reach the edge of the swamp?" said Aein.

"I promise," said Lord Arnkell, bobbing his head.  "I promise you whatever you want.  What do you want?  Gold?  Land?  It is yours.  Name your price."

Anything, Aein thought.  She had gone from orphaned kitchen wench to reviled pariah to having her lord and master beg at her feet.  She could ask him for anything in the world and he would make it hers.  She looked at Lars and Finn.  There was only one thing she wanted.  "You shall call an immediate peace with the Haidra Kingdom and cease this war," said Aein.

"It is yours," he promised, desperately.  "I swear it!  It shall be the first thing I do."

Aein walked to Lars and placed her hand on his harness.

"Don't!" shouted Lord Arnkell.  "He will attack you!  They have all turned and attacked!"

Aein put her hand upon the buckles, her eyes never leaving the face of Lord Arnkell, just challenging him to stop her.  He did not move a muscle.  Aein released the harness and it fell to the ground with a clank.  Lars got up, shaking his fur.  And then he began to growl and advance upon Lord Arnkell.

Lord Arnkell fell back, tripping over himself and falling to the ground.  "I told you!  He is wild!  He will kill us all!  Strike him down!"

There was something about Lord Arnkell's fear, about his powerlessness, which delighted Aein.  She should not have felt such joy to see him so weak, but she loved it.  She loved watching him grovel and squirm and cry like a frightened child.  There was a voice inside of her which seemed to whisper that she
should
command Lars to attack, she
should
let Lord Arnkell feel the pain he had inflicted on others and experience the fate he had doomed his people to.

And then she felt a hand upon her shoulder.

"Look down, Aein," Finn said calmly.

She glanced at her feet.  The fog had breached the clearing.  It wrapped itself around her ankles like shackles, chaining her to her hatred, and dooming Lars to memories of murder.

"Come back, Lars," she commanded.

The werewolf bared his teeth at Aein and snarled.

"Remember who I am," she said.  "The fog is making you forget." 

Lars continued to growl, but it was softer.  It lacked the violence of his earlier threat.  The removal of the silver and the pain which remained was tapping into his wildest survival instincts.  But he was listening.

"Lars," said Aein.  "The fog will try and trap us in the swamp.  It is hiding the path.  It wants us to destroy one another.  It wants to keep us here for itself.  Resist it, Lars."

A noise came from behind Lord Arnkell, a roar and the sound of battle cries.

"It's coming closer," he whispered, shaking in fear.  "We need to go now."

"This way," said Finn, stepping into the water. 

Lord Arnkell grabbed Finn's dripping sleeve.  "NO!  There are creatures in there ..."

"The road is blocked by a girtablilu," said Finn, shaking him off and pointing out what seemed like the obvious.  "We shall die if we go that way.  This is the only way out."  He waded in deeper and Aein moved to join him.  The sooner they left the swamp the better.

"Stop!"  Lord Arnkell cried.  "Do you think we have not tried?  Do you think we have not attempted to get out that way?  The moment you set foot in the water and head in any direction other than deeper into the swamp, the monsters will come for you.  The fog will let you in, but it will not let you out.  I left with one-hundred men, half of them werewolves.  They are dead.  Every one.  That thing which looks like a scorpion is finishing off the last of them now.  Not even my wolves survived.  They found a way to snap their silver harnesses and killed one another.”

“The wolves can’t be killed except by silver or dismemberment,” said Aein.

“Can’t?” Lord Arnkell laughed madly.  “There is no such thing as ‘can’t’ here.  They are dead.  They killed one another, as viciously as rabid dogs.  And now those strong enough to win are out there waiting for us, hiding in the shadows.  They have hunted us, picking us off, one by one.  We must fight our way out through the road."

The water around where Finn was standing began to ripple.  Aein felt her mouth go dry.  Finn saw it, too.

"Finn..." said Aein, holding out her hand to him.  "Come to me."

Lars began to whine.

"This is what always happens," said Lord Arnkell as he backed up.

The surface of the water began to boil with air bubbles.

"FINN!" Aein cried.

He leapt as the jaws of a gigantic eel snapped right where he had been standing.  The creature was the size of a cart.  Finn hacked at it as it chased him to the bank of the clearing. The eel threw itself out of the water and onto the land, swiping Finn with its head and knocking him down.  Finn's sword clattered out of his hand.  Without a pause, Lars charged the eel and landed on its head, biting its eyes.  The eel slithered backwards, flailing as it tried to throw Lars off, but the wolf had dug his teeth in deep.  There was a crackling and popping sound.  Fingers of lightning spread from the eel across the water.  The heat singed the air.  Lars's body convulsed and the eel tossed him aside before sliding away into the liquid depths of the swamp.

Heart in her throat, Aein ran to Lars's side.  "He's breathing," she announced with relief as she stroked his head. 

Finn rolled to his knees and grabbed his fallen sword.  He used it to push himself up from the ground.

"This is what I am trying to tell you!" yelled Lord Arnkell, waving his hands impotently at where the sea monster disappeared. 

"You win," said Finn, wincing as he limped over to Lars.  "We'll stay away from the water."

Lars's eyes began to flutter open.  "Thank the gods," said Aein, burying her face in his neck.  His fur was crisp and smelled burned.

Finn reached down and rested his hand on the wolf's shoulder.  "Too tough to die, that's what you are, Lars.  When the balladeers sing your praises, it will be a song about that time you wrestled lightning and not even the gods could steal your thunder."

Lars rolled himself to standing with the panic of a downed animal.  Though he was shaky, he kept his feet.  He seemed completely uninterested in the praise of his brave deeds.  He kept circling the clearing until the stunned look left his eyes.

The battle outside the clearing suddenly stopped.  Lord Arnkell paled, rubbing his arm.  "It is done.  That creature has killed the last of my men."

There was a clacking sound on the road outside the clearing, and the boards groaned as if under a great weight.  They all stood silent, not even daring to breathe, until it passed them and the noise faded to nothing.

"It's gone," whispered Lord Arnkell.  "We need to leave before it comes back.  We need to leave now."

Aein and Finn locked eyes and came to a silent decision.  Queen Gisla commanded that if all was lost, to choose to hold the border.  But it was time to acknowledge that this situation was well beyond the means of their army of three.  Their deaths would be meaningless.  The border was lost.  Aein turned to Lars.  "Can you lead us out?" she asked.

Though Lars eyed Lord Arnkell like he would rather make him lunch than help him, the wolf walked out of the clearing, sniffing the air for anything that might be in the shadows.  Though Aein had her small knife, she realized she was going to need more.  There was a stained and dirty sword next to one of the abandoned bedrolls.  She picked it up.  She might not be able to wield it well, but at least it was something.  Finn found a discarded chainmail shirt and pulled it over his clothes.  Lord Arnkell ran to one of the lanterns and held it to his chest, as if terrified to stand anywhere but in the protection of its light.

Lars gave a soft bark and Aein interpreted it as a sign the coast was clear.  The remaining three walked out onto the wooden road.  Immediately, they were shrouded in mist.  There was a faint glow from the lantern, but she could not even see the shadows of the others.  Aein brought her fingers up in front of her face.  She saw nothing but fog. 

"Grab onto one another," she instructed.  Aein reached down and rested her hand on Lars's back, then Finn’s hand rested on hers.  "Everyone together?"

"I'm here," said Finn.

"And I," added the shaky voice of Lord Arnkell.

They walked on without a word.  The fog pressed down and played the last sounds of the battle with the girtablilu.  She heard Lord Arnkell stifle a terrified sob.  She hoped his guards' screams of terror haunted his dreams. 

Suddenly, she felt Finn trip and his hand left her.  "Finn?  Are you all right?" she asked.  She searched the fog for him, but the moon's light could not pierce the gray.

"I'm here," he said. 

She breathed deep.  He grunted and placed his hand back where it had been.  She told her heart to stop beating like it was about to pound out of her chest.  But then she realized it was not Finn behind her.  The angle of the hand was wrong.  It was too big.  It came from a shoulder too tall.  The fingertips had claws which tested her shoulder to figure out how thick her protection was.  And the answer was she was not protected at all. 

Without a word of warning, Aein took her blade and swung it against the arm.  There came an inhuman scream.  The arm fell to the ground.  It was smooth like it was made from amphibian skin and it bled a tar-like substance.

"What was that?" she heard Finn cry from off in the distance.

"You are not following me!" warned Aein, striking out again and hitting something that sounded hollow like resin or wood.  She could not see what it was.  It was a glancing blow, nothing that could do any damage.  It had been too long since she held a heavy sword and the sharp edge of the blade was wrong in her hand. 

The furry body of Lars rushed past her thigh, his dog-like battle cry in his throat, snarling as he attacked whatever was in the mist.  There was the ring of metal striking something hard and roars coming from the direction of Finn's voice.  The mist parted just enough to show what was behind her. 

It was the girtablilu.  

It had been a trap.