“It’s a long story,” Sharyn said. She scratched the ear of the werewolf crouched beside her. “But yes, you’re not the only one.”
“Twelve years ago would’ve been about the same time as me, though,” Kari said. She rubbed her chin reflexively and flinched from the painful wound.
“You should get that looked at,” Sharyn commented.
The demonhunter nodded. “Oh, I plan to, first thing when I get back to the city. Gods, I wish I knew what this all means. But I’m smart enough to realize meeting you wasn’t a coincidence. I don’t suppose you know anything about the Temple of Archons?”
“Nothing other than the obvious,” Sharyn answered.
Several other werewolves emerged from the woods, some in their human forms, some still in their hybrid forms, and one in lupine form. There were five males and three females in all, and they looked young in their human forms. Kari wondered where all of them came from, how they had ended up werewolves, and how they had all found each other if they did indeed all come from different walks of life. Again, she thought of what powerful allies they would make, and considered that Sharyn’s ability to track Turillia had been based as much on scent as her skills as a ranger. To have such friends available for future missions could make Kari’s hunting much, much easier.
If Kari were to become head of the Order, she might be able to convince them to trust the werewolves tentatively, but that still left the issue of how to differentiate them from their lycanthrope “cousins.” Eli had spoken of a battle with vicious werewolves; were those “lycanthropes,” then, and not the same as the people before her? These folks seemed totally in control of their curse—or was it a gift?
Sharyn said werewolves are a force of nature. Maybe their ability to shape-shift isn’t a curse at all. Yet another thing I can have people research when I return home.
A young woman with long silver hair came closer to look Kari over. She was dressed in simple utilitarian leather trousers with many pockets, a loose-fitting button-up shirt, and sandals upon her feet. Her face was round and what Kari would’ve described as cute, with eyes that were grey like Jared’s. Kari wondered if the two were siblings or otherwise related by blood. The girl was pretty, about the same age as Sharyn, but there was a softness to her that suggested she hadn’t been out in the wilds for long. After studying Kari for a silent minute, the girl held her hand out.
“Kari, this is Gillian Erin MacKenzie. She’s new to our pack,” Sharyn introduced them.
“Just call me Gil,” the girl said with a disarming smile.
They shook. “Karian Vanador, Sword–”
“Of the Heavens, by Zalkar’s Grace,” Gil finished. “I know. I’ve heard all about you.”
Kari looked northward as thunder rolled in the distance. “I’d better get back to the city; we still have to get that shadow demon out of Lord Black.” She turned back to Sharyn. “Do you want me to try explaining things to Sherman?”
“What would you tell him?” Sharyn asked.
“That you love him,” Kari said, “and then take it from there. But he needs to know. I’m going to tell my Order about you, too, but I’ll take that slowly. I don’t want them to send hunters looking for you or stirring up unrest with the ranger network. Can you trust me on that?”
Sharyn looked at Jared, and the silver wolf nodded his lupine head. The ranger turned back to Kari. “I suppose we’re going to have to trust someone eventually. Trying to live in the shadows and stay a secret from everyone didn’t work out too well for our predecessors.”
“If I tell them about you specifically, it should keep them from doing anything rash,” Kari assured her. “The existence of another person—a werewolf, no less—who was resurrected will make them curious. There’s got to be a reason… a purpose behind all of this.”
“Do you want to use me as a visual aid?” Gil asked, and she chuckled at Kari’s reaction. “I can come up to DarkWind and show your Order that you’re serious.”
“That could be risky,” Kari admitted.
The girl laughed again, a jovial sound that betrayed her youth. “Let’s just say I’m no stranger to danger and leave it at that.”
“All right, but you’d better give me some time to get back home to DarkWind and try to explain things to my Order. Maybe you can come up for midsummer? I should be able to get my point across to the Order by then,” Kari said, and Gil agreed. “Sharyn, I’ll talk to Sherman. I’m not sure what’ll happen, but I’m sure he’ll get in touch with you either way.”
“I understand. Thank you, Kari. I’m sorry about the misunderstanding with Turillia. I hope you understand why I did what I did.”
Kari sighed but then shrugged. “I do. And there’ll always be more demons. We’ll meet again, I’m sure. If I learn anything, I’ll send word to you. Farewell until then.”
The werewolves bid her farewell, and Kari made her way back to the city at a brisk pace. There was still work to be done, and though things had come to a head, the situation seemed to be getting more complex. Kari could only shake her head at what had just transpired. She had spoken—spoken—with a group of werewolves and had all but welcomed them as allies. It was something she wanted to talk with Aeligos, Lord Allerius, and the Order’s council about, because the complexity of the plots she was uncovering was beginning to overwhelm her.
She pushed the thoughts aside and reached a brisk jog. Right now, she had to rescue Lord Black. She’d made a promise, and she intended to keep it.
The stable square was busy when Kari returned. Guards swarmed the area, keeping watch over the grasslands outside the gate and the body of the demon lying in the square. No one had touched Turillia while Kari was gone, afraid to provoke the wrath of the hammer-wielding half-corlyps guarding the body.
Kari was glad for Eli’s protectiveness, even over a dead body. Though Sharyn had killed Turillia, there could be clues to the deeper mystery on the succubus’ person, or wherever she had made her abode.
Not surprisingly, Emma was gone. What was surprising was that Deirdre had the manacles on when Kari approached her and Eli. The half-elite priestess was fuming, and Kari wondered how the manacles had ended up on her instead of Emma. Kari wanted to ask Eli how Emma had escaped, or whether anyone had really tried to stop her egress. Judging by the fact that Deirdre was manacled, she had probably tried to apprehend the mallasti.
Kari tried to gauge Eli’s expression, but his face was unreadable. Whatever Emma’s feelings were toward Eli, his toward her were much different. Eli thought of Emma as a friend, regardless of what he said on the matter.
“Do you have the key to these manacles, Lady Vanador?” Deirdre asked.
Kari produced the key and made an effort not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. “Do I even want to know how this happened?”
Deirdre didn’t answer. As soon as her hands were free, she turned and slapped Eli hard across the face. “Treacherous bastard!” she growled at him. “You wonder why your race has such a miserable reputation.”
Kari tilted her head. “Wait, what happened?”