Page 24 of In Darkness Forged
He did not expect the wolf to simply twitch his ears and race off down the trail, retracing Tal’s steps and disappearing before he could be recalled.
Whatever it was, the wolf would deal with it. And he would return. He’d waited this long for Tal to be freed, and that sort of loyalty could be neither bought nor broken. If only those of Tal’s own kind had the same steadfastness of heart…
Turning back towards the mountains, Tal went on his way, secure in the knowledge that he was no longer alone and would sleep both soundly and safe when daybreak came.
On the morrow, he could turn his attention to the task ahead and determine how he might somehow survive to claim his vengeance.
CHAPTER6
Aislin hadn’t really even stopped to think. When the terrifying prisoner strode out of the hall, Vanadar raised one eyebrow at her as if to say, “This is your only chance,” and she’d simply run after him.
No pack, no preparation—she’d just run, with none of her possessions but her worn and threadbare cloak. Because if she lost her “guide,” she faced this task on her own, and the night elves’ reactions told her it was likely to be a fool’s errand. Whatever an arantha might be, it terrified an entire crowd of deadly, shapeshifting warriors, which meant Aislin had no hope at all.
No hope unless she could catch up to the man who’d glared at her as if personally infuriated by her existence. He was clearly angry, dangerous, filthy, and somehow still undeniably compelling. As frightened as she’d been, she could barely stop staring, caught by the aura of power and menace he radiated even while bound. Whoever he was, he scared the other night elves spitless, which was… a good thing? Maybe. If she could catch him. If she could convince him to workwithher.
So she ran, because just as before, it was the only path she could see to take. And even if that path seemed to lead ever deeper into danger, what did that matter? She could not go back to Lord Dreichel empty-handed. His threats made it perfectly clear that she may as well die here as face him with nothing but excuses.
But before she could even reach the edge of the night elves’ village, the former prisoner had disappeared into the night. All Aislin knew for sure was the road he’d taken, so she followed it. Past the last of the gray, wooden houses that seemed to spring out of the ground itself and flow naturally beneath the eaves of the forest. Past the last of the paths that led away from the main road, their depths illuminated only by dancing golden sparks and beds of glowing purple lichen.
It was beautiful and magical, and at any other time, she would have stopped to gawk at the wonder of it all, but now she dared not stop. She ran as she had never run before, knowing she had no chance to keep up with the long, tireless stride of her night elf quarry, yet given no choice but to do her best.
Her skirts were heavy, and her boots unsuited for running, but still she kept on as the road curved with the land, dipping into hollows and climbing over a low ridge before plunging into a deeper valley. Eventually, she was forced to stop, stumbling with weariness and gasping for breath, but even then, she only paused long enough to draw fresh air into her lungs. The road kept going, and so would she.
One step, and then another, until her knees gave way, and she tripped, falling headlong and catching herself with her hands on the rough ground. The impact scraped her palms and drew a cry of pain, but she shut her eyes and recalled her mother’s hopeless gaze. Lord Dreichel’s merciless stare. The sneer on the face of that man who’d looked her up and down as if suggesting she find some other way to pay her debts.
Against all odds, the night elves had offered her a path that did not involve money, so she must go on. Must follow this road as long as she could.
Aislin pushed to her feet, opened her eyes… and froze.
Inches from her face, a mouthful of glistening fangs leered in a silent snarl. Drool dripped down black fur to land on the dusty road, while golden eyes the size of apples glared down at her with intent to rend and rip and tear.
This road, it seemed, was about to come to an end—with her in the belly of a wolf the size of a dray horse.
The creature was far larger than the shapeshifting night elves. Never in all her nightmares could she have conjured such a terrifying beast, and her mind insisted furiously that she run while her body stayed stubbornly rooted to the spot.
She had no weapon. Even words failed her. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, and her breath froze as she waited for those teeth to pierce her skin, tear her flesh and break her bones…
But instead of teeth, an enormous, ice-cold nose ruffled her hair, sniffing as if in curiosity. One gargantuan paw lifted and tapped her on the shoulder, sending her rolling across the ground like a child’s toy.
Oh gods, it was playing with her before it ate her. Aislin closed her eyes again, breathed a few silent words of apology to her family, and then screamed involuntarily as she felt hot breath on the back of her neck.
Teeth the length of her hand pricked her skin, released her, then fastened resolutely on the stout leather jerkin beneath her cloak. She shrieked again when her body left the ground, rose effortlessly into the air, and began to move.
The wolf wascarrying her.Like a parent with a wayward pup, it trotted off down the trail with Aislin in its jaws…
Sweet mother of all Abreia, was it taking her home for its pups to feed on?!?
Aislin began to struggle, but the wolf shook its head briefly as if to say, “Stop that!”
So she stopped. Hung there limply and just concentrated on breathing. She was still breathing. There had been no rending or tearing yet, which meant the road had not ended. She was alive. She might still find a way out of this.
Aislin waited and watched, but the passing of the road beneath her made her dizzy, so she closed her eyes and wondered—what kind of wolf followed the road? What kind of wolf did not kill its prey but captured it alive instead?
Even the most terrifying legends about night elves had included nothing like this creature. She’d thought the wolf she’d seen before was large, but this one made it seem almost laughably small. Was it a creation of magic? Something unique unto itself? Or a monster even night elves feared, much like the prisoner she sought?
If she lived, she was going to have so many bruises. First from being slung over a shoulder, and now this. Was this why Brannic sometimes hesitated to speak of his adventures? Because they were cold and painful and terrifying, and he wanted only to remember that he was now warm and safe in his inn?
Suddenly the wolf began to whine and broke into a run. Wherever they were going, they were almost there, and Aislin opened her eyes just as the wolf slid to a halt and dropped her right into the middle of the road.