post 16

Cassia felt a shiver run through her at Atropos’s tone. He had been dry and abrasive during their trip to the Crossroads and back, but this was different. Atropos’s voice was flat and lacked any warmth, even betraying real anger at her father. “I thought you and my father were friends. I thought you two grew up together,” Cassia said shortly.

“We did, though he was many years older than I.” Atropos stated mutedly. “And we were.”

“Until when?” Cassia demanded. “Until a few months ago, when he arrived at Laddinley, and the entire scandal with Diamantia blew up?” Atropos’s eyebrows knitted at the name. “Shouldn’t you have known?” Cassia continued in a heated whisper, “when you saw me? Don’t we look the same, anyways?”

“Almost the same,” Atropos corrected her.

“Why did you pick now to antagonize him, then? Why not twenty years ago, when Diamantia was born?”

Atropos was silent. Cassia, irritated, continued running alongside Atropos easily. After months of training, months of strict, disciplined practice, she was in the best shape of her life. Instead of gasping loudly and painfully, as she had the very first run with Step, she could now keep the rhythm of her steps the same. They were also indiscernible. The sound of their leather shoes on the dirt road was akin to dry leaves skittering across the same path. They were making sure that only thing that guided the werewolf would be scent, which would make its travel tedious and tentative.

After about and hour, the scenery had not changed. Cassia had not expected it to; the forest ran for many miles along the southern road. It would be a while before the forest thinned to shrubs, then to a dry plain, before the earth rose to form the cluster of mountains that housed the goblin city of Keshia.

“So,” Cassia ventured after the minutes began to become uncomfortable. “What exactly is the plan?”

“First we go south,” Atropos said, voice dry again. “Traveling as we are, we should be able to lure the werewolf away from Laddinley, yet stay so that we are far ahead. We’ll pass Keshia, which should detour the werewolf. It will blunder through. Perhaps the Keshian militia will even take care of the werewolf for us, and save us from having to face it ourselves.”

Cassia frowned. “Do you really believe that?”

Atropos let out a breath. “No. Werewolves rarely are distracted from their query, especially when they are being paid, and I have no doubt that Tempest paid it well. But it is something to hope for, because the whole of Keshia is much, much better equipped than we are, and thus they stand a much greater chance of slaying the werewolf.”

They continued running. “But…” Cassia tried to remember her lessons, which seemed decades ago. “Isn’t Keshia a township?”

“Yes.”

“Is that not a concern?” Cassia asked sarcastically.

Atropos pressed his lips together, so that the faint moon cast a dark shadow on his chin. “It is a concern that we must ignore.”

“Can we not warn the people, at least?”

“No. The people of Keshia would not be happy to know that they face a werewolf. They may simply turn us to it.”

“So you will let them be surprised by one?”

“Their defenses are well equipped,” Atropos said shortly. “And they are just goblins, after all. In times such as these, our kind must come first. It is the only way.”

Our kind being what? Cassia wondered. Humans or elves?

Atropos slowed into a brisk walk. “I think we can break for dinner,” he whispered. “The werewolf must be at least two hours behind us.”

Cassia let Honey out of the sling. She trotted happily, her breath coming in soft whoofs. Atropos brought out a large chunk of bread and broke it in half, handing one portion to Cassia.

Cassia bit into the soft crust, which was still faintly warm. The scent of butter and yeast filled her nose, blocking out the earthy scents of the night forest with images of home. Cassia thought of warmth, warmth unhindered by arching boughs that imprisoned as well as protected. A cold breeze snaked through Whispering footsteps scrambled up a nearby tree.

Then a thud resounded in the forest.

Cassia lunged down and replaced Honey in the sling, but Honey did not complain. She huddled at the bottom of the pouch and shivered. “What was that?” Cassia whispered.
Atropos shook his head. He sped up, and Cassia matched his pace. They were running again. The terrible bay rebounded against the moon, now full and uncovered by the dark fog. Before it faded it was picked up by answering voices. The chorus of howls rose into the air.

Atropos and Cassia exchanged alarmed glances – it was not a single werewolf chasing them; it was a pack.

The rest of the night was spent in hurried, blind panic. When Cassia thought back to those moments her memories were unclear, consisting of flashes of movement, the sensation of being whipped across the face by a stray branch hanging over the side of the road, stinging pain, ragged breaths of Atropos beside her, the thudding, warm weight of Honey, who she clutched against her side, and the occasional bays that kept echoing closer and closer, like thunder that cuts across the quiet of a storm. Every time they called, Cassia forced herself forward and prayed that they would lose their trail, fade away.

But werewolves were notorious good trackers, and neither she nor Atropos were making any attempt to hide their trail. Speed was their friend, and they were sprinting through the wild night.

“How much longer?” Cassia gasped, squinting but failing to read a faded road sign.
Atropos strained his sharper eyes, “two miles. Almost there.” His voice was hoarse and extremely strained. “Look.”

Cassia raised her head and peered through the mist that had begun to rise nearly an hour ago. Dull prinpicks of light, which she had thought were the obscured stars, now shone brighter. She realized that they were too low to be part of the night sky. Keshia. “What happens? When – we get there?”

Atropos looked weary, “Run – through town – plan – holds.”

Cassia sighed, regretting it immediately as the breath whooshed out of her lungs. She quickly sucked in air, making a sound similar to a fish. Atropos glanced over, and exchanged a look with her. Then he quickly turned his attention inward, steeling himself for the last two miles. Cassia concentrated on the dots of light in the distance, feeling the earth pound against her feet with each step, feeling her ears ring in an answer.

A hair-chilling howl rose from somewhere in the trees. Cassia’s heart leapt against its already jagged cadence. Honey whimpered in response. A thin leaf blade whipped against Cassia’ raw cheek. Her eyes burned. They zoomed past another road marker. Cassia did not need to read it to know what it said.

Closer to the mountains, the fog had thickened, but the cold road beneath and the dim lights ahead were enough to guide them. Cassia opened her mouth to breathe again and another leaf smacked against her face. She spat out a leaf, recognizing the bitter taste of the alia berry.

Its sharp tang burned in her mouth, but she kept going; the berry wasn’t poisonous, and they were so close…

Another howl, much, much close than the previous ones, was answered by half a dozen, the same distance away. Cassia exchanged a panicked look with Atropos. They knew where they were. Rustles could be heard from behind.

“Don’t – under – stand.” Atropos gasped. “They – can’t – run!”

The road tapered out to form two lanes.