Rain drummed against the hood of Ella's cloak, soaking through, weighing it down, the cold seeping into her skin. The bay mare Farwen had arranged for her, Bell, neighed, her hooves sloshing in the mud. Faenir loped along beside Bell, his back barely lower than the horse's, his fur flattened to his body under the weight of the rain.
Tanner and Yana rode to Ella's left, at the edge of the trees. Yana had shown up with Tanner at the northern gate, a storm raging in her eyes. Even Farwen didn't ask any questions when the woman insisted on joining the party, which Ella figured was a good idea. Farwen may have been a centuries old elf, but Yana had the ferocity of a wild bear. The flat-nosed soldier Varik and two of the other scouts rode ahead, their shapes only just visible in the night.
Ardle and Keela, the two of Juro's scouts Ella knew from Tarhelm, along with two scouts Ella had never met before, rode on Ella's right, hoods drawn.
Farwen and Juro had taken the rest of the scouts to search deeper into the woodlands that framed the main road in search of any signs of Juro's missing scouts. According to Farwen, Juro had sent a group of five scouts about sixty miles southwest of Elkenrim, to keep watch on a Lorian outpost that had begun to report an increase in activity over the past few weeks. But the scouts hadn't reported back.
Ella dipped her head and tugged at the rim of her hood, trying her best to keep the frigid touch of the rain off her skin and out of her eyes. Her cloak was already soaked through, and she could feel the cold in her bones, but the least she could do was provide herself with some relief.
The rain continued to fall as they skirted the edge of the woodland, keeping off the main road. It hammered down relentlessly, pools of water forming, small streams trickling down the slope towards the road. With each step, Bell's hooves sunk deeper into the mud. The mare whinnied, her ears flattening against her head.
"It's all right," Ella whispered, running her hand along the horse's saturated neck. With her words, she could feel the horse's anxiety at the sodden earth fade. Bell's distressed whinny softened to a warm neigh, her muscles relaxing and ears standing up.
"How are you feeling?" Keela asked, drawing her own mare closer, her orange eyebrows striking against her dark complexion.
"How am I feeling?" Ella lifted her gaze from Bell to Keela. "Cold. Wet."
"She meant about being out on assignment," Ardle said with a laugh. "This is your first time coming out with us, but I get the feeling you already knew precisely what she meant."
"Sorry," Ella said, shaking her head. She hadn't meant to be so curt. But her patience had begun to fray ever since Tanner had told her about Calen. It had been weeks since Coren had reached out to her contact – Aeson Virandr, she'd said his name was. Still, they'd heard nothing back. Coren had said it could take some time, and with everything going on across Epheria, Ella was sure it would take even longer. But sitting around and waiting while she knew Calen was out there being hunted clawed at her from the inside out. "A little nervous, in truth."
"So was I." Keela smiled at Ella. "I worked my family's fields before I joined. It takes a while to get used to the shift."
"What made you join?" Ella pulled Bell's reins a little tighter, shifting in the saddle. The people of the South had many reasons to despise the Lorian Empire, but she'd never considered that anyone in the North could feel the same way.
Keela hesitated, looking forward into the night. "Soldiers killed my father in a drunken bar fight. Stabbed him in the neck with broken glass. My mother died from the Blackrot three years before. That left me and my two brothers on our own. When I reported what had happened, the local lord just sent me away and told me to be happy I still had a farm. Two days later the soldiers set the fields alight, then salted the ground and beat me and my brothers until our faces were so swollen we couldn't speak. As it turns out, the lord told the soldiers that I'd reported them, and they came to teach me a lesson. We were near starving when Yana found us begging in the streets of Berona. She offered us food and warm beds. We took them. Then she told us we could leave if we wanted, but that we were welcome to stay. That was four years ago."
"What's your story then?" asked one of the scouts Ella hadn't met before, barely waiting for Keela to finish. "You show up outta nowhere with a wolf the size of a horse and suddenly you're best pals with the commanders? Don't think I haven't seen Commander Valmar taking you out the eastern gate each morning."
"Leave her be, Laran." Ardle threw the woman a glare, frowning.
"Oh, you've your eye on her then, Ardle? I should've guessed."
"Shut up, both of you," said the other scout Ella hadn't seen before. He was older than the others with sun-bronzed skin, hair more grey than black, and the bottom half of his face covered in a thick, meticulously kept beard. He reminded Ella of her dad. "Looks like they found something."
Ella looked up to see Juro emerging from the edge of the forest on his black gelding, rain dripping down his cloak.
Ella welcomed the brief respite from the rainfall provided by the canopy above as she and the others followed Juro through the forest to where they found Farwen and the rest of the scouts standing over the remnants of what had once been a campsite.
A saturated pile of ash and half-burned wood lay at the centre, packs and blanket rolls strewn about, damp and torn. Three mangled bodies lay in the mud, armour rent like dry parchment, limbs strewn about. Maggots and other insects crawled over swollen, bloated flesh. The putrid fetor of damp, rotting flesh assaulted Ella's senses.
Her stomach turned at the sight, but she forced herself to keep looking. Push through it. The taste of vomit touched the back of her tongue, acidic and sharp. She swallowed, forcing it back down.
"You get used to it," a woman with braided grey hair and a leathered skin said.
"May Heraya embrace them." Keela held her hand to her heart as she looked down over the rotting corpses.
"Two more bodies by the edge of the camp," Farwen said as Juro dismounted.
Juro shook his head, folding his arms, droplets of rain dripping from his hair down over his face. "They were good people. Strong. Loyal."
"At least we've no doubt as to who is responsible. Fuckin' filthy beasts." Varik sat on the back of his horse, taking in the gore and bloodshed.
Juro frowned at Varik, then dropped to his haunches beside one of the rotting corpses, his hand resting on a gold torc wrapped around the arm. "Alder. He'd seen no more than nineteen summers."
Ella hadn't noticed Yana slide from her saddle. The woman rested her hand on Juro's shoulder, a tenderness in her that Ella had rarely seen. "We will bury them before we move on."
Farwen looked as though she was going to protest, but she nodded as she met Yana's glare. The elf looked at the gathered warriors. "We bury the bodies, then we move on."
An hour or so passed as they rode through the forest, hooves slapping against mud, rain drumming against the canopy and forming deep puddles wherever the moonlight pierced. Soaked to the bone, Ella's thighs had begun to chafe, which was not a good sign considering they still had days' of riding before they reached Steeple.
She let out a grunt as she shifted in her saddle, trying to relieve the ache that had set into her lower back. She'd ridden horses a fair amount when she was younger, but not in the last few years. It seemed her mind remembered the basics, but her body didn't.
The sound of mud sucking hooves drew closer to Ella's left, and she turned to see Yana pulling her horse up beside Ella's. Yana's hood was pulled over her head, droplets coalescing at its peak before dripping down onto the saddle. Ella's eyes had adjusted enough to the night to see the scowl carved into Yana's face, the smouldering anger in her eyes. They rode side by side for a while, neither of them speaking.
"If anything happens to him," Yana said, not looking at Ella. "Anything. I'll—"
"You'll kill me, I know. You've told me before." Ella let out a sigh. "I didn't ask him to come with me, Yana."
"You're smarter than that." Yana pulled gently on her horse's reins, her expression softening. She looked away as if contemplating something for a moment, then offered Ella a half smile.
"What?"
Yana shook her head. "Nothing. Just… try not to get yourself killed, or he'll throw himself on the blade trying to chase after you."
"I'll do my best," Ella said, letting out a short laugh. "I'm a big advocate of not dying."
"Good." Yana's smile warmed. "Not dying would be appreciated."
The woman pulled on her reins and said something to her horse, who slowed, moving back to where Tanner rode a few feet behind them.
Tanner raised an eyebrow as Yana dropped in beside him, water trickling down her face, her horse letting out a soft neigh.
"What are you staring at?" Yana scowled in the way she did when she knew Tanner's answer was going to be something sweet or emotional. Yana had the biggest and warmest heart Tanner had ever known, but if he ever told anyone that, he was absolutely certain she would never speak to him again. She had a reputation for being a hard woman, a reputation she liked, so she tended to hide behind that scowl.
"Nothing," Tanner lied, his eyes following the droplets of rain as they rolled down her soft skin and over her lips. There was no situation where she wasn't the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on. None. But again, that was something better implied than stated. Yana was quicker in the mind than he was – by a large distance. She always knew what he was thinking just by his eyes or the look on his face. She just liked to pretend she didn't.
"Hmm." Yana narrowed her eyes as though a child had just told her they would behave if left to their own devices.
"What did you say to Ella?"
"I told her if anything happens to you I'll kill her."
Tanner laughed, wiping the water from his eyes. "You like her."
Yana frowned but didn't answer, instead looking off into the depths of the forest. She signalled her horse to move and pulled away from Tanner, drawing up beside Farwen, who rode ahead.
Tanner stared after her, allowing a soft smile to rest on his lips. They had tried for children – many times. Two had been born still. Three lost in the womb. They'd blamed themselves for a long time. One night – a few days after their second still birth – Farwen had found both Tanner and Yana weeping in one of Tarhelm's alcoves that looked out over the plains between the Firnin Mountains and Fort Harken. Until that night, only Coren and Alari, the infirmerer, had known the depths of Tanner and Yana's struggles. But when they told Farwen, the elf said something that had stuck with both Tanner and Yana until this very day.
'My people believe that what is grown in the womb is simply a vessel. It is our gift to the soul that will one day become our child. When our children are born still, we believe the soul has chosen to wait for a different vessel, one that aligns with their hearts. In some cases, we cannot build the vessels our children need. But that does not mean there is not a soul out there that needs our love. It is said that life is a gift from the gods, but love is what gives life meaning.'
Ella wasn't a child, but she was someone who needed love.
Ella looked back to see Tanner and Yana talking, Tanner laughing, Yana frowning.
She couldn't help but smile. Looking at Yana and Tanner, she saw everything she'd ever wanted with Rhett. A love that was true. A love that pushed through anger and irritation. A love that permeated everything. When Ella was younger, she'd always thought that when she found the right man, every moment would be like dancing on the edge of the world. But when she'd met Rhett, she'd understood that love was about finding a soul that resonated with her own. It was about wanting to give without ever needing to take. Looking at Tanner and Yana, she understood that even more. They were opposites in almost every way. He was calm and stoic, his words few, his smile tender. She was brash and fiery, her tongue sharp and her wits sharper. And yet, they were everything the other needed. They were, as Farwen had said, Ayar Elwyn. One Heart.
As Yana rode away from Tanner to join Farwen, Ella shook her head, trying to push Rhett from her mind. Now was not the time. She dropped her hand to her hip, pushing her cloak aside, her fingers resting on the triangular pommel of the sword Farwen had given her. She wasn't used to carrying a blade. She could feel the weight of it dragging at her left side, swinging as she moved. Even then, she felt the need to double check it was there. Seeing the bodies at the campsite had set a fear in her. Memories of the Uraks at Farrenmill. Their blood-red eyes, leathery skin, jagged yellow teeth, obsidian-black claws. In the back of her mind, she could still see the beasts tearing through the Lorian soldiers like scythes through grass. Blood spraying over the dirt. Bones snapping, cracking, breaking.
Snap.
Ella jerked, tensing, wet leather squeaking as her left hand tightened around the reins. To Ella's right, Faenir's ears pricked. The wolfpine stopped for a moment, sniffing at the air. The smell of rain flooded Ella's nostrils, far more crisp and clear than her own senses were capable of perceiving. The fresh, earthy scent filled her, so strong it left an almost metallic taste on her tongue. Faenir's senses were her own.
She shook her head looking about the group. There were twenty-four of them in total. Ella counted amongst the twenty Coren had told Farwen to take with her. Along with Tanner, Farwen, Juro, and Varik. Each of them rode on horseback through the dark, damp forest, rain drumming, hooves squelching in the mud. Most marched onwards, unperturbed. But a few looked as nervous as Ella, their faces pale, their hands gripping their reins so tightly Ella could see the veins bulging through their skin.
More scents drifted to Ella, breaking through the scattering of fresh rainfall, augmented by Faenir's senses: blood and wet fur – the festering carcass of a deer not far away; the deep, earthy smell of loam; the sharp tang of mushrooms with blue caps and yellow spots, images crossing Faenir's mind.
"You all right?"
Ella nearly jumped out of her skin at Ardle's words. She'd been so lost in the smells she hadn't heard him, Keela, and one of the other scouts approach. The other scout looked close to Calen's age. Her skin was pale as ice, her blonde hair matted to her face. It must have been her first excursion as well, as Ella could see the anxiety in her eyes. Ella frowned at Ardle. "Do you make a habit of sneaking up on people?"
"Well, I'm a scout. It's kind of what I'm trained for."
"Fair point," Ella said. She looked back over at Faenir, whose ears were still pricked, nose sniffing in the air. Wariness radiated from the wolfpine, a sense that something wasn't as it should be.
"Can he smell something?" the blonde-haired scout asked, leaning forwards, her eyes focused on Faenir, concern in her voice.
Ella frowned. "He's not sure. It's hard for him to tell in the rainfall. It breaks the scents, scatters them. But there's something…"
"What? You can tell all that?"
Ella turned to see the blonde woman staring at her – Ardle and Keela too. She'd forgotten that her link with Faenir wasn't widely known. It was only really Farwen, Coren, Tanner, and Yana who had any idea. And in truth, Ella wasn't exactly eager to go telling people she thought she might be a druid. They'd look at her as though she'd lost her mind – she looked at herself as though she were losing her mind.
Ella made to answer the woman, but then something changed in the air, the wind shifting, carrying the scent of blood and the sound of heavy feet slapping against mud. The hackles on Faenir's back rose. A deep growl resonated in the wolfpine's throat. Farwen stared at Faenir then shifted her gaze to Ella.
Faenir's snout crinkled, and his lips pulled into a snarl. The wolfpine snapped at the air, his snarl turning into something savage as he charged into the dark of the forest. Images touched Ella's mind, the change in the air taking shape: dense, muscled bodies and blood-red eyes. She howled at the top of her lungs.
"Uraks!"
No sooner had Ella shouted than an Urak leapt from the darkness, unleashing a visceral war cry, blackened steel blade swinging. The beast's call was cut short as Faenir leapt and slammed into it in mid-air like a battering ram, dropping it to the ground. A savage snarl rang out, tearing and snapping as Faenir ripped out the Urak's throat. The iron tang of blood touched Ella's tongue, and she shivered, her body recoiling at the sensation.
The forest erupted into chaos, leathery shapes bursting from the dark, howling. The clashing of swords rang out, shouts and screams rising, the drum of rainfall hammering in the background.
Something whooshed past Ella, followed by a blood-chilling scream. She turned to see the blonde-haired scout shrieking, her eyes fixed on Ardle who sat upright on his mount, a black arrow shaft with white fletching protruding from his left eye. Ardle's arms dangled by his side, his head lolling backwards as his horse snorted and stomped before bolting. Ardle slipped from the saddle, landing in the mud with a wet slap, the horse vanishing into the night.
A roar sounded to Ella's left, and Bell reared, snorting and squealing. The mare's feet must have caught in the mud, for seconds later Ella was falling, her heart hammering, blood thumping, a feeling of weightlessness filling her. As Ella fell, she saw a blackened blade sink into the neck of the blonde-scout, blood spraying.
Ella twisted as she fell, slamming into the ground face-first, the mud sucking around her, pushing into her nose and her open mouth. Spots of light flickered in the darkness covering her eyes. Ringing. Panic turned her blood to ice. She clambered to her knees, frantically wiping the mud from her eyes, sounds returning. Through her hazy vision she saw Bell floundering on the ground, muscular body twisting and turning, trying desperately to lift herself to her feet. A black spear crashed through the mare's head, killing her instantly.
Blood-red eyes fixed on Ella, set into grey skin latticed with old scars. Ella pushed back, her arse slamming against the mud, her hand reaching for the sword at her hip. Her fingers slipped around the mud-covered hilt, and she pulled the blade free. The Urak lifted its spear and struck down.
Ella spun in the mud, the spear tip missing her by inches, burying into the ground. As the Urak pulled at the spear shaft, Ella dragged strength from the pit of her stomach and threw herself to her feet, swinging the blade with her right hand. It skittered against the spear shaft, then she felt a brief touch of resistance as the sword bit into bone, before the steel sliced through the Urak's fingers.
Blood pumped from its disfigured hand, and the beast roared, catching Ella in the face with a swipe of its arm. Pain exploded in Ella's nose, stars flitting across her eyes, then she was crashing into the ground once more. Her head was ringing, vision blurring. She scrambled to her feet in time to see Faenir crash into the Urak's chest, tearing chunks of flesh free as they fell to the sodden ground. Faenir clawed at the monstrous beast, his claws gouging furrows of blood through its leathery skin. He wrapped his jaws around the creature's neck, then thrashed his head side to side until the Urak's neck snapped.
Faenir stood over the creature, his chest heaving, a snarl resonating in his throat, blood coating his muzzle and dripping into the mud. The wolfpine's head dropped low, hackles raising as he backed towards Ella, snapping and snarling.
Ella's hand shook, and she clutched the hilt of her sword. Around her, the men and women she'd travelled with fought for their lives, steel crashing, mud squelching, blood spraying. In the middle of it all, Farwen moved like a woman possessed, the path of her blade marked only by the trail of blood it left in its wake.
Ella watched as the elf drove her blade up through an Urak's jaw, heaving it free as she spun, cleaving another Urak's arm at the elbow before bringing the blade back and driving it through the beast's head. Farwen clasped her fingers into a fist, and Ella watched in horror as the steel breastplate of one Urak and the vambraces of another crumpled in on themselves, bones snapping like twigs, blood spurting. The creatures howled, their bodies breaking beneath the force of their own armour. Another twirl of Farwen's blade and she sliced open the belly of a wolf-like creature that looked almost as large as Faenir, its back coated in stone-like scales. The creature shrieked and thrashed as its intestines slid free, slopping into the mud.
Again, Farwen motioned with her hand, and tree roots burst from the ground, twisting around themselves, forming pointed spikes that impaled a number of the leather-skinned beasts, pinning them to trees.
"Ella!"
Ella turned to see Keela stumbling towards her, her hand clasped to her stomach, blood pouring through her fingers. The sight brought images of Rhett to the fore. The tip of the spear bursting through his gut, blood pouring through his fingers like a burst dam – the fear in his voice. 'Ella?'
"Ella?"
Ella trembled as Keela's voice mirrored Rhett's, pulling her from her thoughts. The woman reached out, her mouth opening in a wordless scream as a blackened blade sliced through air and cleaved her arm at the elbow before swinging back and hacking into the bridge of her nose.
The Urak heaved its blade free like ripping an axe from a tree, blood spurting from the wound. Keela collapsed into the mud.
The edges of Ella's consciousness dimmed. The sounds of battle faded until all she heard was the beating of her heart, each thud filling her with ice. The cold flooded her veins, rivers of ice carving paths through her body. With the ice came a fury like nothing she'd ever felt. Something clawed at her from within. Something feral. Something untamed. A howl rippled through her mind, her hair rising like hackles across her skin. Beside her, Faenir lowered his head, his amber eyes fixed on the Urak, his face twisted in a snarl, his fur weighed down by rainfall, stained crimson by blood.
The Urak unleashed a guttural howl and charged, swinging its blackened blade in a sweeping arc.
Ella and Faenir lunged together, their minds connected by an unseen cord. The wolfpine dove beneath the swing of the Urak's blade, his powerful legs launching him ahead of Ella. Faenir slammed into the Urak's legs, tearing at the beast's leathery flesh, carving through muscles and gouging bone. When Faenir last protected Ella from the Uraks in Farrenmill, he had been half the size of the monstrous creatures. Now, his shoulders were as broad as the beast's, his muscles just as dense. The Urak collapsed, howling and thrashing, letting go of its sword as it swiped frantically at Faenir with its clawed hands.
Ella's blood burned in her veins as she charged. The howl of a wolf rippled in her mind, drowning out all other sounds. Her nose throbbed from where the Urak had caught her. A blur of motion flashed to her left, and another of the beasts charged, a glowing gemstone set into its spear. The Urak roared and thrust its spear forward. Reflexively, Ella sliced her blade, redirecting the spear tip as Farwen had taught her. The Urak stumbled at its shifted momentum. Her back foot sinking into the mud, Ella swept her sword back up along the shaft of the staggering Urak's spear. The blade smashed into the creature's jaw, carving through its chin, smashing through teeth and bone, and bursting out the other side. As it reared back, Ella plunged her sword into its gut, driving it to the hilt. Something hammered into her side, sending her spiralling to the ground.
As she slammed down into the mud, the burning feeling that had been clawing at Ella's mind – the howling wolf – flared into life, her skin itching, her fingers curling. She dug her hands into the mud, dragging herself to her feet, lunging at the Urak that had crashed into her. She caught a glint of steel shimmering in the mud, and she snatched the short sword as she moved, narrowly avoiding the swinging claw of the Urak.
Growling, Ella threw herself forwards and rammed the sword into the Urak's side. She pulled the blade free in a spray of blood, then drove it back in. A bloodlust filled her, a feral fury, clouding her mind with a red mist, raging. A wolf howled within her. Again and again she drove the blade into the Urak's torso, steel grating against bone and carving through flesh. The beast stumbled backwards, its lifeblood leaking from its ravaged side. Ella leapt onto its chest. She clawed her free hand into the beast's shoulder, felt her nails break skin followed by the warm touch of blood. The Urak fell and Ella drove her blade down into its chest in a series of frenzied stabs before letting go entirely and instead clawing at its face, her nails tearing strips of flesh.
The Urak hit the ground, mud and dirt spraying the air. Ella slashed, her claws rending. The red mist consumed her, each moment blurring into the next. She lost all sense of time. Her jaws clamped around something, blood filling her mouth, and then she was heaving herself to her feet, running to where Faenir ripped at the Urak that had killed Keela. She leapt onto the creature's back, snapping and snarling, her arms wrapped around its neck, her teeth ripping flesh.
Faenir ripped a chunk from the Urak's calf, and the beast fell backwards.
The air punched from Ella's lungs as she hit the ground, the Urak crashing on top of her. The creature thrashed, raking its clawed hand along the side of Ella's head, carving lines of searing pain into her skin. With the pain, a howl ignited in her blood, echoing in her mind. Ella answered with a howl of her own, finally feeling the wolf within her, understanding it, knowing it. The wolf wanted to protect her, to keep her safe, but she needed to set it free, and so she did. Her nails lengthened, hardening to claws, and she could feel her teeth changing and sharpening. The red mist filled her mind, and the wolf howled within her once more.
She opened her jaws and sank her teeth into the Urak's neck, thrashing her head side to side, tearing open the flesh, blood spilling over her face. As she did, she sank her claws into the far side of the beast's head, raking flesh.
The red mist dulled her mind, the world blurring as she ripped and tore at the Urak. She was herself, and she was not.
She drew in heavy, laboured breaths as the creature lay dead on top of her, blood coating her clawed hands. Then the weight was lifting from her chest, Faenir dragging the body off her. Ella pulled herself upright, kneeling in the mud, her chest heaving, lungs burning. A shout rang in her ears, far sharper and clearer than anything she'd heard before. Yana. Ella threw herself to her feet, yanking a sword from an Urak's body as she ran.
Yana, Tanner, Juro, and two others stood together, swords moving in a blur as they held three Uraks at bay. Two bodies lay before them, one missing a leg, the other in a pool of mud and intestines.
One of the men fell, a blackened sword driving through his neck, the gemstone in its blade pulsating with a red light.
Ella clenched her fist around the hilt of her sword, the wolf within her howling, snarling in her blood. Faenir bounded past her, leaping at the nearest Urak, jaws wrapping around its arm, ripping and tearing as he dragged the creature to the ground.
Ella swung her blade as she reached the others, hacking into the leg of the Urak closest to her. She let go as it lodged into the Urak's bone, blood spilling around it. The Urak roared in pain, turning to catch Ella across the face with the pommel of its sword. Bone crunched, skin splitting, pain bursting. Ella's knee pounded into the sopping mud, her own blood mixing with that already in her mouth.
She looked up to see Tanner's blade slicing through the Urak's throat, a second blade driving into its chest. The Urak howled, ignoring the weapons lodged in its body, and rammed its blackened blade through the belly of a man with a shaved head and a knotted brown beard.
'But I can teach you to never stop.' Coren's words resonated in Ella's head. 'I can train you to push through the pain, to carry the weight on your shoulders.'
Ella unleashed a primal howl, the wolf burning in her blood. 'You need to be willing to fight harder than anyone who stands in your way.' She reached up and wrapped her hand around the hilt of the blade she'd left buried in the creature's leg. With a heave, she rose to her feet and pulled the blade free, the momentum forcing her to step backwards. She plunged the steel into the Urak's chest, heaving it free, driving it back in, snarling, roaring. She lost herself in a frenzy of blood and steel, her throat raw, her muscles burning.
She dragged the blade free one last time, and the Urak staggered backwards, catching itself before it fell, its body shredded, leaking blood. It raised its blackened blade, choking breaths escaping its throat.
Before Ella could move to finish the creature off, a blur of grey flashed past her, and Faenir leapt, closing his massive jaws around the Urak's head. He hauled it backwards, slamming it into the mud. The Urak shook feebly, trying to break free, but Faenir let out a savage snarl, spittle and blood spraying as he crunched into the Urak's skull. The wolfpine thrashed his head side to side, rending flesh and cracking bone until the Urak's arms fell, lifeless, by its sides. Moments passed before Faenir released the creature's head, and still, the wolfpine stood over its body, blood dripping from his jaws, bits of flesh sticking from his teeth. A vicious growl resonated in his throat as though he was daring the beast to come back to life.
Ella staggered forwards, the call of the wolf fading as pain pushed through. She dropped into the mud, the cold seeping into her bones from her saturated clothes. Her nose throbbed and felt as though it had been stuffed with wads of cloth, while the side of her head burned where the Urak had clawed her. Glancing around, she saw Farwen and the last of the scouts had slain whatever Uraks were left.
Yana dropped to one knee in front of Ella, a hand clasping on her shoulder, the other tenderly probing the gashes at the side of her head. She met Ella's gaze, blood flowed from a deep slice along her right cheek. "Are you all right?"
"I've been better." Ella coughed as she spoke, blood catching in her throat. She released her grip on her sword, letting it splat into the mud.
"You've broken your nose." Yana narrowed her eyes as she examined Ella's nose. She ran her tongue across her top teeth, pushing out her lip. Yana leaned forwards, cupping her hands against the sides of Ella's face, resting her thumbs on either side of Ella's nose, just below her eyes.
"What are you doing?" Ella swallowed. She knew what was coming. She'd seen her mother do it a handful of times. But her mother had stuffed Alpaisea leaves up the nostrils to numb the pain.
"You're a stupid little girl," Yana said, tutting, shaking her head. "You've no place out here."
Ella clenched her fist, leaning forward, feeling the anger begin to rise within her. "What did you ju—Aagh!"
Yana clasped Ella's face tight, wedging her hands against Ella's nose and pushing hard from the left.
Crack.
Ella howled, trying to pull away. Blood spilled into her mouth, but Yana didn't let go. She pushed again with her thumbs, and Ella felt a grinding crunch, more blood dripping, then a click. Yana let her go, and Ella fell backwards into the mud. She clasped her hands to her nose, recoiling in pain at her own touch. Her nose felt as though it had been hit with an axe, then stuffed with rags. Even thinking about drawing a breath through her nostrils sent pain shooting through her. "What the fuck did you do that for?"
Yana knelt in the mud, picking at something in her teeth with her tongue as she stared at Ella. She shrugged. "Could've left it the way it was. Averaged out that pretty face." She laughed, dragging Ella to her feet as she rose. She leaned in, clapping Ella on the cheek gently. "There is no god in this world that could explain what you did here. But you did good."
"Yana. What am I?" The question caused Ella's stomach to churn. That red mist, that feeling of bloodlust, still touched the edges of her mind, sending shivers through her. She looked down at her hands. Her nails had shortened and returned to normal, but her skin was red with blood. A quick probe with her tongue told her that her teeth were no longer sharp fangs.
"You're a druid," Farwen said, appearing over Yana's shoulder, blood splattered across her face — none of it her own. "If we were not certain before, we are now."