Aela Darkwood's Arc

Chapter 16 of 22

The boot steps stopped. Whoever moved out there was listening now. Aela dropped into a crouch behind the fallen trunk. Kalen crawled beside her. Lyra pressed flat against the bark, her palm mark dim. She lifted three fingers and pointed north. Far off. Not yet on them. "He's mine," Aela whispered. Kalen looked at her. "You've never fought as a wolf." "Then teach me. Now." Lyra shook her head. "No time for a lesson." "Give me one anyway." Kalen pulled her deeper into the ferns, out of the wind line. He shed his coat. "Shift. Slow. Don't lose the shape when I come at you." Aela shifted. Her bones folded down. Fur pushed through her skin. The world tilted low and sharp. Kalen shifted too, gray and lean, and lunged. He hit her shoulder and rolled her over. She scrambled up. He came again. This time she dropped her weight and let him pass, then bit his flank. Not hard. Enough. Kalen shifted back, panting. "Go for the throat or the hamstring. Nothing else stops a man fast." "Throat," Aela said. Her voice came out low through the wolf jaw. "Hamstring if he's turned." "Yes." Lyra hissed. "He's moving again." The light was gone. Night came down through the canopy in patches. Aela smelled him before she saw him — gun oil, wet wool, sweat. She circled wide through the undergrowth, low to the ground, the way the fresh wolf inside her wanted to move. Kalen kept her flank. Lyra went the other way, silent. Marcus Hale stepped into the clearing between the fallen trunks. He held a short rifle across his chest. He turned once, slow, reading the ground. He didn't see her. Aela hit him from the left. She drove her shoulder into his hip and he went down hard. The rifle spun into the leaves. He rolled and pulled a knife. She snapped at his wrist and missed. He cut her across the muzzle. The pain was clean and small. She lunged again and caught his forearm in her teeth. Her jaw closed. Bone gave a little. He shouted. He swung the knife at her ear. She dropped the arm and darted back. Blood ran down his sleeve into the dirt. "Stop," she said. She let the human voice come up through the wolf. "Go back. Tell her the knife is gone. Tell her I'm not coming." Hale stared at her. His good hand shook. He looked at the ruined arm, then at the trees, where Kalen and Lyra stood in wolf shape, watching. He picked up the rifle with his left hand. He backed out of the clearing. His steps went slow, then fast, then he was gone through the ferns. Aela shifted back. Her muzzle burned. Her hands were shaking. "He won't come again tonight," Lyra said, human again, wiping her mouth. "Maybe not at all. He was paid to track, not to bleed." Kalen touched Aela's shoulder. "You held the shape." "I held it," Aela said. She wiped the blood off her lip and watched the ferns where the hunter had gone. The witch was still out there. But tonight, the woods were theirs.