Remington “Rem” Riley's Arc

Chapter 10 of 10

The wolf shook water from its black coat and fixed its red eyes on Rem. It stood on the only shore, between them and escape. Rem pushed himself up. His cracked ribs stabbed with every breath. He gripped the heirloom axe. The blade still glowed faint red, tugging toward the beast like it always had. One clean strike to the throat. That was all the ancient markings promised. But his arms shook, and the ice under his boots was slick and thin. "It's hurt," Beth said. She crouched beside him, the former detective who once thought he was a killer. Now she watched his back. Her cut hand still carried the red bloom's scent. She saw him wince and grabbed his sleeve. "You can't lift it alone. Not like that." "I have to." Rem's voice was rough. "The blade has to reach its throat. Where the hex marked it." He pointed. Along the wolf's neck, the fur was singed and raw, a scar burned into it long ago. The wolf lowered its head. Its claws dug the ice. It was going to charge. "Then we lift it together," Beth said. She stepped in close and wrapped both hands under his on the shaft. "On three." The wolf sprang. It crossed the ice in two great bounds, jaws wide, breath steaming. Rem felt Beth's weight join his. Her strength filled the gap his ribs had stolen. "Now!" she shouted. They swung. The axe rose faster than Rem could have lifted it alone. The beast leapt for his chest. The glowing blade met its throat where the old hex had burned. The edge bit into the singed fur and drove deep. Red light flared along the metal. The wolf's howl broke apart mid-cry. Its body slammed into them and knocked them both flat on the ice. Rem's ribs screamed. He rolled, gasping, and shoved the huge weight off his legs. The beast lay still. The red glow faded from the blade. The wolf's eyes dimmed from burning red to dull black. Its huge frame seemed to loosen, as if a rope inside it had finally cut. Beth crawled to Rem. "Is it dead?" He pressed a hand to the wolf's flank. No breath moved it. "It's dead." He almost couldn't believe the words. Then the body changed. The black fur thinned. The limbs shrank and straightened. Where the great wolf had lain, a man now stretched across the ice. He was old, gaunt, his skin gray. The singed scar still marked his throat. Rem stared. His axe had killed the creature. But the thing it left behind was a human shape, cursed for years beyond count. The markings had shown the wolf. They had never shown this. "Rem," Beth whispered. She pointed past the body. Under the clearing ice, deep in the black water, other pale shapes drifted up toward the surface. More faces. More victims. But there wouldn’t be any more. THE END