A Clan of Novaks
Page 54
“No!” I gasped.
“I had a bad feeling about all of this.” Brucella steamrolled over me. “As soon as we gather the strongest and most influential wolves of our land all in one place—the very backbone of The Woodlands—first comes the magical arrival of her so-called family from The Shade, and now these hunters, barely a few hours apart!” Her harsh eyes drilled holes into mine. “All of this was planned, wasn’t it, you little hussy?”
“No!” I shouted, the blood boiling in my cheeks. “I swear, it’s not true!”
As I locked eyes with Bastien, the expression on his face knocked the breath out of me. Gone was the warmth I was accustomed to seeing in his eyes whenever he looked at me. In its place was doubt. Cold, hard doubt.
“You know it’s not true, Bastien!” I pleaded. My hands were shaking. I wished he were a man right now so I could grip his shoulders and shake him.
How can he think I would betray him? The answer to that question chilled me. I was not blind. I knew what this looked like. I myself could not even offer an explanation as to how these hunters had arrived.
I just needed time to get through to him. But time was the last thing we had.
A chorus of demonic screeching pierced our eardrums. The mutants were too close now. Fire began to billow from their mouths, scorching the trees beneath them and setting them alight as they hurtled forward.
“Cast her aside, Bastien!” Brucella roared, even as she began wading across the tree toward us. “You are meant for more than her.”
I never got the chance to discover whether Bastien would have still fought for me.
As Brucella came within four feet of reaching us, in an aura of pale orange, my cousin Ben arrived at my side. His mouth was grim and set as he wrapped his arms around me. He swiped me away from the tree and lifted me into the air.
“Bastien!” I cried down, even as Ben carried me further.
With snarls of frustration, Brucella and Dane began retreating, scurrying away from the blaze the mutants would soon engulf the tree in.
But Bastien remained perched in that treetop, head turned toward me, eyes dazed and glazed, until Ben swept me out of sight.
Derek
I felt bewildered as to how the hunters had known to come here, but when Ben returned carrying my niece, we had to leave.
Victoria begged our five witches to do something to help, but she was out of her mind in panic. We didn’t have enough time, enough warning. God knew how many hundreds—maybe even thousands— of mutants had flocked in the sky and were but moments from devouring our part of the woods.
“Where is the gate, Vicky?” I asked, gripping her shoulders.
“On the other side of the mountain,” she croaked. “There are five oak trees. Above them is a plateau. But Uncle, please! We have to help Bastien! He was still in the treetops!”
“I’ll go,” Kailyn said. “I’ll join you by the portal.” She lifted into the air and hurtled away toward where Victoria was pointing.
Our witches vanished the rest of us to the other side of the mountain, where we located the gate. My niece was practically trembling as we gazed out from this vantage point. The sea of trees had become a blazing ocean of fire.
Anger coursed through my veins. These hunters have lost their damn minds!
I caught sight of Kailyn shooting toward us, empty-handed.
“There was too much fire for me to see anything,” Kailyn panted, landing. “I’m so sorry, Victoria.”
Victoria looked like she’d been winded as Xavier caught her by her midriff and carried her to the edge of the gate. He leapt through with her, and the rest of us tumbled in after them.
On the other side, we landed in a field of wheat, bordered by low, oblong buildings. We were on the outskirts of some kind of walled human settlement, no doubt. But we had no time to ponder where in the world we might be. I just ordered the witches, “Take us back to The Shade.”
* * *
“How did it happen?” Vicky asked shakily, as we reappeared at the end of the Port’s jetty. “How did the hunters know to come?”
I didn’t have the slightest clue. Neither did anyone else.
But before any of us could start coming up with speculations, Victoria gasped. “Oh my,” she said softly. “Wh-When you visited Bastien’s cousin…” She gulped. “Could he have tagged you in any way?”
“Tagged us?” Vivienne frowned.
“Planted a tracker with you?” Victoria pressed.
“W-We accepted water flasks from them,” Grace blurted.
Oh, God.
So we did.
A chilled silence followed.
“Show them to me,” Victoria demanded.
We retrieved them from our backpacks and laid them on the floor in front of her. She crouched over them and picked them up one by one, examining them closely before discarding them. When she came to Arwen’s flask, however, she pored over it much longer. Her fingers trailed along a tiny ridge that ran the circumference of the flask’s lid, a ridge so small and insignificant, one could hardly notice it. She began twisting the lid forcefully, and to my shock, it pried in half, revealing a small hollow interior, inside of which was… a tiny metal bullet. A metal bullet with a minuscule red-flashing light at either tip.
A tracker.
There was no way in heaven or hell we could have guessed a medieval-looking chieftain would have implanted this kind of technology in one of our water flasks. At the time, we’d had no reason to distrust his offer of something so simple and innocent as water. It was only later that Victoria had informed us that he had been compromised by the hunters. But still, I’d never thought to suspect the water flasks. I’d had far too many other things on my mind.
“I had a bad feeling about all of this.” Brucella steamrolled over me. “As soon as we gather the strongest and most influential wolves of our land all in one place—the very backbone of The Woodlands—first comes the magical arrival of her so-called family from The Shade, and now these hunters, barely a few hours apart!” Her harsh eyes drilled holes into mine. “All of this was planned, wasn’t it, you little hussy?”
“No!” I shouted, the blood boiling in my cheeks. “I swear, it’s not true!”
As I locked eyes with Bastien, the expression on his face knocked the breath out of me. Gone was the warmth I was accustomed to seeing in his eyes whenever he looked at me. In its place was doubt. Cold, hard doubt.
“You know it’s not true, Bastien!” I pleaded. My hands were shaking. I wished he were a man right now so I could grip his shoulders and shake him.
How can he think I would betray him? The answer to that question chilled me. I was not blind. I knew what this looked like. I myself could not even offer an explanation as to how these hunters had arrived.
I just needed time to get through to him. But time was the last thing we had.
A chorus of demonic screeching pierced our eardrums. The mutants were too close now. Fire began to billow from their mouths, scorching the trees beneath them and setting them alight as they hurtled forward.
“Cast her aside, Bastien!” Brucella roared, even as she began wading across the tree toward us. “You are meant for more than her.”
I never got the chance to discover whether Bastien would have still fought for me.
As Brucella came within four feet of reaching us, in an aura of pale orange, my cousin Ben arrived at my side. His mouth was grim and set as he wrapped his arms around me. He swiped me away from the tree and lifted me into the air.
“Bastien!” I cried down, even as Ben carried me further.
With snarls of frustration, Brucella and Dane began retreating, scurrying away from the blaze the mutants would soon engulf the tree in.
But Bastien remained perched in that treetop, head turned toward me, eyes dazed and glazed, until Ben swept me out of sight.
Derek
I felt bewildered as to how the hunters had known to come here, but when Ben returned carrying my niece, we had to leave.
Victoria begged our five witches to do something to help, but she was out of her mind in panic. We didn’t have enough time, enough warning. God knew how many hundreds—maybe even thousands— of mutants had flocked in the sky and were but moments from devouring our part of the woods.
“Where is the gate, Vicky?” I asked, gripping her shoulders.
“On the other side of the mountain,” she croaked. “There are five oak trees. Above them is a plateau. But Uncle, please! We have to help Bastien! He was still in the treetops!”
“I’ll go,” Kailyn said. “I’ll join you by the portal.” She lifted into the air and hurtled away toward where Victoria was pointing.
Our witches vanished the rest of us to the other side of the mountain, where we located the gate. My niece was practically trembling as we gazed out from this vantage point. The sea of trees had become a blazing ocean of fire.
Anger coursed through my veins. These hunters have lost their damn minds!
I caught sight of Kailyn shooting toward us, empty-handed.
“There was too much fire for me to see anything,” Kailyn panted, landing. “I’m so sorry, Victoria.”
Victoria looked like she’d been winded as Xavier caught her by her midriff and carried her to the edge of the gate. He leapt through with her, and the rest of us tumbled in after them.
On the other side, we landed in a field of wheat, bordered by low, oblong buildings. We were on the outskirts of some kind of walled human settlement, no doubt. But we had no time to ponder where in the world we might be. I just ordered the witches, “Take us back to The Shade.”
* * *
“How did it happen?” Vicky asked shakily, as we reappeared at the end of the Port’s jetty. “How did the hunters know to come?”
I didn’t have the slightest clue. Neither did anyone else.
But before any of us could start coming up with speculations, Victoria gasped. “Oh my,” she said softly. “Wh-When you visited Bastien’s cousin…” She gulped. “Could he have tagged you in any way?”
“Tagged us?” Vivienne frowned.
“Planted a tracker with you?” Victoria pressed.
“W-We accepted water flasks from them,” Grace blurted.
Oh, God.
So we did.
A chilled silence followed.
“Show them to me,” Victoria demanded.
We retrieved them from our backpacks and laid them on the floor in front of her. She crouched over them and picked them up one by one, examining them closely before discarding them. When she came to Arwen’s flask, however, she pored over it much longer. Her fingers trailed along a tiny ridge that ran the circumference of the flask’s lid, a ridge so small and insignificant, one could hardly notice it. She began twisting the lid forcefully, and to my shock, it pried in half, revealing a small hollow interior, inside of which was… a tiny metal bullet. A metal bullet with a minuscule red-flashing light at either tip.
A tracker.
There was no way in heaven or hell we could have guessed a medieval-looking chieftain would have implanted this kind of technology in one of our water flasks. At the time, we’d had no reason to distrust his offer of something so simple and innocent as water. It was only later that Victoria had informed us that he had been compromised by the hunters. But still, I’d never thought to suspect the water flasks. I’d had far too many other things on my mind.
