Another Hunter

SAELYNA

Cyran places a finger on his lips when our eyes meet. He doesn't need to tell me. Even Ima has gone dead silent.

Floorboards creak as whoever it is walks into the house. My palms tingle with anticipation and magic. Cyran is crouched by the doorway, his bow and arrow in place. Nothing moves except the intruder in the kitchen.

Then Camille stumbles into the kitchen and I release a breath. Cyran frowns upon spotting her. 'What are you doing here?' he growls. Her face flushes on spotting his annoyed expression. 'Sorry. Just wanted to say farewell. Quain told me…' She shakes her head and holds my gaze for a while before she grabs me in a bone-crushing hug. 'You're one of the best persons I know, Sae. Please stay safe and strong', she sobs.

I've had my fill of crying for one night so I gently push her away. 'Ima', I say, 'Please take care of her'. Camille nods quickly. I know she will, we brought the panther up together. I rub Ima's ears one last time, and square my shoulders. 'See you around, Cam'. She smiles wanely. 'See you around'.

I feel kind of sad for her, that she could not tell Cyran how she felt about him. Even if she did, it would not matter. That's not who he is.

I can't dissuade Cyran to stay behind. So we both head out into the forest, leaving our lives behind.

CYRAN

The moon provides light that penetrates this part of the forest, illuminating the path ahead. I don't need it, not really. My night vision is 20/20.

But it bothers me. If the stories are true, wolves would be about tonight. My hand is taut on my bow, my eyes are sharper than ever.

Saelyna walks beside me, more easily and relaxed than I am. Probably because sight isn't really needed tonight. She turns this way and that, listening to sounds that I can't pick up, but never betraying panic.

Then out of the dark to my right, a large shape lunges at us, claws flashing, jaws snapping. I duck sharply and roll forward, raising my bow as I right myself on my haunches.

It's not a wolf. A wolf would be on all fours, larger, fiercer, and even more ferine.

The one in front of me, is at least 6 feet tall. His fur blends in with the moon's silver, and his knife-point claws catch and reflect the light as he flexes it.

Then it advances in my sister.

I release the arrow without thought, and it sinks into the monster's back with a loud crunch. I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this; the wolf-genn continuing its advance on Saelyna like I hadn't even lifted a finger. I draw another and aim for its head. It bounces off, but he's finally distracted. 'Run, Saelyna! Go!' I call out and bolt in the other direction.

As I expected, the beast gives pursuit. He's faster than the other one, way faster, so I head downstream, where the rocks are thicker and plentiful. He comes within biting range more than once, but each time his jaws snap, I leap out of reach.

I'm running for my life, I'm fully aware. This is much different from the other wolfen. This one is better than the other in every way. And I'm clinging to life with a thread. I'm right about the rocks, though. The beast has slowed down to an extent, but still fast and close enough that I can hear his breath.

I take a turn and realize it's the wrong one. I know Halden's woods well, and a low cliff is up ahead. But I have no other choice.

I intensify my speed, leaping from rock to rock, from edge to edge, approaching the sharp incline above me…

A sharp slice of pain travels up the back of my thigh and I collapse to the ground, headfirst, then everything goes black.

SAELYNA

My palms are still tingling. My head is light, my chest is burning as I race for the cliff. That's the only place he would have headed, if my hearing is right.

A howl travels through the cold air, chilling my blood, but I continue running. I can't afford to stop now.

I stop on spotting a dark shape walk into view up ahead. Tall, massive and every bit as feral as the previous wolfen that went after Cyran, but this one's fur is black, and instead of the other's deep yellow eyes, his are green.

I don't wait. I keep on running, taking a bend to my right. "Cyran". I weave between trees and keep listening. The wolfen is not far behind now, and if I'm not mistaken, another is catching up on my left flank.

For some reason, I become extremely vexed. I allow the tingle in my palms become a rushing river that I channel at the one behind me.

A burst of blue escapes my hands, and I have a moment to catch the creature's shocked expression in the light before it yowls in pain and falls, stricken. I keep on running, increasing my pace when a sharp pain runs up the side of my head.

He's fallen unconscious. I can't reach him anymore, but I can still feel his last signal.

I arrive the cliff, and the first thing I see is the silver wolfen he had distracted crouching over his limp form.

I blast the creature away from my brother, throwing him over the cliff. Then I hurry over and I feel for his pulse. Slow and weak, but he's alive. Good. I tap him sharply on the head, and he jolts awake, so fast that his head collides with mine. 'Watch it, you squinard', I snap, rubbing my temple. 'The ravener..' 'Is gone. Come on. We must get going'. 'No need to be in a hurry, elf. Qarax is a day's ride from here, and I'm sure you'll enjoy the journey'.

Shit. They found us.

CAIVAN

If I get back on time tonight, I'll kill Gylen.

The carriage rolls by like some giant caterpillar through the forest while we watch from the shadows. It's one of the wolf's blessings, the ability to blend into nature. To hear and see anything within a 100 mile radius. To be superior to any other genn.

I nod at Ronn to move along. He does so with lightening speed, his only edge over me. Seirnon and Edril follow suit, while I take a detour.

The mission is simple: attack the carriage, and take its hostages. Father makes it sound easy. It's one of his skills, honey talk. That's how I ended up here, instead of planning strategies with the rest of the leaders.

I see a clear path ahead, strewn with bedmoss and strichen leaves to make it smoother for wheels. It's perfect. Less noise then.

Ronn crashes in from the north while Edril flanks him. I hear yells and snarls intermingled with each other, drawn blades, snapping jaws, ripped throats. Then Seirmon joins the fray and it all goes quiet.

I approach the carriage, and the carnage. The three of them stand behind it, huge and ferine in all their best, like a hunter over prized kill. Or a wolfen over slaughtered king's patrol. 'The twins?' I ask. 'Unconscious', mutters Ronn, 'They must have been knocked out by these men'.

I approach the girl. Ronn had propped her against a tree, and he stands next to her like some guardian. I brush past him, crouching to examine the elf.

She's ordinary, mediocre at best. Or at least compared to the ladies I see at Xanwed's court. Her face is oval-shaped, her skin is a darker shade of olive. She is garbed in a green cloak and black trouser, entirely different from the girl that fretted over her brother yesterday in a shirt and knicker. I reach out and pull a strand of hair away from her lashes.

For some disturbing, unfathomable reason, I'm content with staying here the rest of the night, and watching her sleep. 'Sir. What's the plan?' Edril asks, snapping me back to reality. I straighten slowly, and look up at the moon. It is not full yet, two nights more before the curve is complete, before I succumb to its lure. But for now, there's twin elves to be transported, and a plan to be schemed.

'Come along, brothers', I say with a yawn, 'Eldad awaits'.