45 – Wins and Losses

  Grace’s words and urgency registered in Ward’s mind, but they were muted; despite being cognizant, despite having control over his bestial nature, Ward couldn’t have argued that rational thought was his primary driver while the wolf ran rampant. His side burned and ached, and he wanted to turn and lick the wound. He’d ripped the head from his foe, and, in his animal mind, that was good enough. No challengers stood ready to face him, and he wasn’t particularly hungry after getting a mouthful of that vile black blood. Still, Grace’s words struck a chord, and he grunted his agreement, turning back to Dame Ruby’s broken corpse.

  “Hurry! Ward, you have to hurry! Get the medallion in her chest!” Grace waved her arms by the body, her figure bright in his wolfen vision, and he padded over to her, his claws clicking on the hard floor. He reached out one powerful arm and flipped the corpse onto its back, and there, embedded in the skin at the center of her chest, was the golden, rune-inscribed medallion. A flick of his powerful claws tugged it from her flesh, and Ward grabbed the thing, growling at its coldness. “Now run! The library! Your friends are fighting!”

  It was true; Ward could hear the sounds of battle, but he was tired and hurt—the wound from the sorceress’s whip wasn’t regenerating easily. The wolf wanted to rest. That thought, that urge—to lie down and lick his wounds—sparked something in the human part of Ward’s mind, and he growled, “Get moving, dammit!” He forced himself to think of Haley and how she’d looked after Nevkin had killed her. He pushed the memory of his guilt and despair to the forefront, and the adrenaline surged into his muscles. His pack was in danger!

  Ward charged the doorway, snarling, massive teeth exposed, as he bounded over the broken, smoldering corpses piled there. When he burst into the library, he scanned the scene—scattered books, toppled bookcases, bloody smears, torn, dismembered bodies, and companions locked in a desperate battle. True was cornered, back pressed against a wall, one of the mutated cultists pressing her. Her right leg was nearly torn away at the knee. Ward could see bone and shreds of flesh, but she stood solidly on her other leg, hacking left and right with her short, broad blade.

  Haley was defending Lisa, fending off the other stinger-tailed cultist. She slapped his many attacks away, somehow evading that dripping, poison-filled barb. Lisa looked spent; her robes were torn, her face wan, and she cradled a hand to her chest where Ward could see twisted, bloody fingers. He wanted to help his friends. The wolf wanted to rip and rend, but Grace was beside him, guiding him, shouting things like, “Find the swarm, Ward! Find the entity!”

  He didn’t see it, though, and True cried out, gasping in pain as her aggressor hooked her cheek with his talon-like claws, ripping through it and hooking on her lower jaw. He tugged, pulling her off balance as she screamed, exposing her neck for a follow-up swipe from one of his extra limbs. Ward leaped. He was massive in his full transformation, and he covered the distance in a second, catching the cultist’s arm in his jaws and snapping it in half with a single powerful bite. He ripped it away, showering himself and True with blood, and then he pummeled the cultist with left and right swipes of his claws that would have made a grizzly bear proud.

  True watched, wide-eyed with fear or pain or both, as he—quite literally—tore the cultist limb from limb. The savaging probably took twenty seconds, and in that time, Grace began to scream for him. “Ward! It’s going for Lisa! Stop it! Pick up the medallion!” When the words finally registered, Ward had to hunt for the medallion in the cultist's blood and viscera; he’d dropped it during his swiping rampage.

  “Ward!” Haley shouted. “Something’s happening!”

  Ward grunted and growled, his mind reeling in a hazy fog; the wound, the wolf, and some sort of malaise or exhaustion were all combining forces to make his thoughts sluggish. He dragged his clawed fingers through the mess he’d made until he felt something hard and exposed the glint of gold. He grabbed the medallion and looked up just in time to see the swarm of corrupted mana motes swirling around Haley and Lisa, undeniably drifting toward Lisa’s face.

  “Ward!” Grace screamed. “Hold the medallion in the cloud. I can force the entity into it, but I must use some of your anima. I have to! I swear I won’t take more than I need.”

  Ward looked at her, bright and clear, despite the growing shadows at the edges of his vision. Her words hit home, waking up more of his human rationality. She was asking for more anima after he’d just earned it back. She was doing it at a critical time where argument or debate or even lengthy thought might get someone killed or worse—just like when she’d brought him to the Vainglory system. In that split second, Ward had to decide if he trusted her. “Do it,” he growled, then rallied himself into a charge.

  He barreled through the library to where Lisa cowered, and Haley fought the four-armed, stinger-tailed cultist. The cloud of motes was descending to a point, like a funnel, only inches from Lisa’s mouth when he got there. As he came in, almost as an afterthought, Ward swiped a decisive blow against the cultist’s head, his claws digging deep into the man’s skull as he swatted him to the ground. Haley pounced on the demonic figure, seizing the opportunity to finish the job, and Ward thrust the medallion into the swarm of corrupted mana.

  Grace’s voice rang out, a soprano song that echoed and built upon itself, stunning Ward further with its beauty. He’d never heard such a haunting melody, and something in it called to the wolf in him. As the medallion began to glow with ghostly white light, he tilted his head back and howled. To his delight, his song to the moon didn’t clash with Grace’s voice. If anything, it enhanced it. Their two voices interwove harmoniously, each building on and strengthening the other, creating a sound greater than the sum of its parts.

  The corrupted mana reacted like bees in a smoke cloud. It calmed its spiraling dive toward Lisa and became more like a lethargic fog. As the song continued, the medallion grew brighter and brighter, and the motes began to sink into it—first a few, then a dozen, then hundreds. Ward barely noticed. His mind was too caught up in the music of his howl and the way it rang from the library walls. Grace’s voice began to fade, the urgency and volume diminishing by the second, and then something fell on Ward like a sharp-edged ton of bricks.

  Leathery wings flapped, a voice shrieked like a bird of prey, and talons dug like knives into his back. Haley screamed; Lisa fell back, choking off a gasp of surprise and pain as she jostled her wounded hand, and Grace continued to sing as Ward’s howl was cut short by the final mutated cultist doing its best to dig his spine out of his back.

  Ward’s lethargy and self-imposed musical trance were shattered as his overworked adrenal glands did their job again. He roared and thrashed, his legs and arms driving him up and back as he tried to smash the winged cultist with his body weight. He felt bones crunch, and the cultist shrieked again as it attempted to worry its claws deeper and chew on the thick muscles of his shoulder. All the while they battled, Grace’s song continued, and the cloud of corrupted mana shrank.

  Ward heaved and smashed himself up and down, trying to break the cultist apart while the vile creature dug its claws into his back over and over. Finally, he slammed himself down so hard that the twisted creature shifted upward on his back, and Ward could reach over and get ahold of him with his mighty, clawed fist. He grabbed the cultist by the back of his neck and pulled with everything he had, ripping the claws from his back and hurling the creature against the steps leading to the ritual chamber.

  Black walls closed in on Ward’s vision as he stared at his enemy, watching it take a final shuddering breath before succumbing to the wounds he’d inflicted. Seeing it die was like a signal to the wolf in him, and it departed, determined to rest. Pain bloomed to life in Ward as his transformation reversed and his human sensations asserted themselves. The fire of his wounds was so intense that any hope he had of clinging to consciousness was dashed. With Grace’s song to accompany him, he drifted into blissful dark.

  ###

  “…’ats right, up he goes. Big feller, ain’t he?” The voice drifted into his dreamless slumber, and Ward wondered who it was. He could feel hands on his legs and arms. His body felt strangely numb, and when the hands released him, and soft things were piled around him, the oblivion of sleep returned.

  ###

  “Ward?” Haley’s voice drifted to him through the darkness. “Your breathing changed. Are you waking up? Come on, Ward. It’s been too long; we’re starting to worry.” He felt her hot fingers grip his wrist, gently squeezing. He forced his eyes to open with an effort that felt like swimming out of a hundred-foot, dark, water-logged hole. He saw a white, plaster ceiling, hazy gray daylight, and, as he’d hoped, Haley, looking almost healthy despite her pale flesh and even paler eyes.

  “Ung,” he grunted as his stomach rumbled and groaned.

  Haley laughed, relief washing over her as she squeezed his wrist tightly. “I knew you’d be all right!”

  “Am I?” Ward managed after clearing his throat. He felt foggy and weak, his stomach ached to have something in it, and his recollection of the events that had gotten him into such a state was hazy at best.

  A different voice answered, “I bet you’ll have a few new scars. What lengths you go to, all to impress the ladies!”

  Ward tilted his head to scowl at Grace. “Glad to see you’re still yourself.” He lifted his hand to scratch an itch above his ear, but something rattled, and his hand jerked to a stop. “What the fuck?”

  “Now, don’t overreact, Ward—” Haley said, squeezing his other wrist gently.

  “The hell is going on?” Ward jerked his wrist again and peered down to see a silver cuff connect to a chain, which was, in turn, attached to a bracket in the stout wooden post that ran from the flagstone floor to the ceiling. Half-inch bolt tops were visible where it was connected to the bracket, throwing doubt on Ward’s initial impulse to yank the chain out.

  “I don’t know.” Grace appeared near the chain where it was connected to the wall. “I was out while you were.”

  “It’s the marshal. She’s just taking precautions, Ward. I’m sure she’s going to release you.”

  “True?” Ward growled, his voice growing thick and savage as betrayal iced his heart.

  “Ward! You were doing this in your sleep! Growling and carrying on! She was afraid you’d go mad with fever or something. She’s going to release you, I’m sure of it.” Haley’s reassurances got through, and Ward felt his racing heart begin to calm as he forced himself to breathe a little easier.

  With a final jerk on the chain, he let his wrist fall and, with his other hand, reached up to roughly scratch his itching whiskers. “I need a goddamn shave. What’s the story, then, Haley? Did we get it? Is Lisa all right?”

  “Lisa’s…” Haley sighed and shook her head. “She’s herself, still; the cursed demon or whatever it is went back into the artifact when Grace did her song. But Lisa… Well, she lost a pair of fingers and got beat up pretty badly. She’s been by several times to check on you, but she’s withdrawn.” Haley shrugged as though she were to blame for Lisa’s wounded spirit.

  Ward hated to hear that about Lisa, of course, but something else struck him about Haley’s words. “How long was I out?”

  Haley forced a smile, and she let go of his wrist so she could grasp his hand with both of hers. “It’ll be a week tomorrow.”

  Ward voiced the primary concern her words evoked in him. “I need to eat something.” He looked around the little room, taking it in—the bright window with no drapes, the plain walls, the cedar chest on the wall opposite the bed, and the unstained, heavy, wooden door. “Where am I?”

  “True’s house. I’ll go tell her you're awake and get you some food.” Haley started to pull away, but Ward grabbed her hand.

  “Hey, what about you? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Ward. Things have been mad since the fight—politics, and laws, and the city watch up in arms—but I’ll leave that to True; she knows more about it than I do.”

  “But you’re good. The, uh, corruption?”

  “It’s the same…” She shook her head, smiling almost shyly. “Actually, it’s better. I’ve been doing my Gopah and resting plenty. The marshal made me up a room, too. She has a lovely garden, and the sun’s been out despite the winter season.” As she spoke, the door latch rattled, and it creaked open. True stood in the opening, a crutch under one arm.

  “Heard you talking and figured he was awake.”

  “Yeah,” Ward grumbled, “he is, and you need to get this goddamn chain off him.”

  “Woke up grumpy, did he?” True chuckled and hobbled into the room, making room for Haley as she pulled away from Ward and moved toward the door.

  “He’s hungry,” she said, pausing to look back at Ward. “Be nice. True got hurt, too, and she’s been singing your praises while fending off some very upset noblefolk.” With that, she slipped out, and True hobbled closer. As she cleared the foot of the bed and came up beside, Ward saw her leg was truncated at the knee, and he suddenly remembered the scene in the library. True’s leg had been dangling by strands of torn flesh. Apparently, a healing tonic hadn’t been enough to save it.

  Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

  “Shit, True. I’m sorry to see you lost your leg.”

  “Only part of it.” She clicked her tongue and shook her head ruefully. “I’ll admit to some tears the night after the fight. Lucky for me, though, the Assembly saw fit to approve the purchase of an artificed appendage. I’ve already hired the work out to a local craftsman.”

  “Yeah?” Ward pursed his lips in contemplation, remembering Fay’s magical teeth. A leg was a hell of a lot more complicated, but he supposed he’d seen stranger things since coming to Cinder.

  “Yes, indeed, Mr. Werewolf.” She pulled on a string around her neck and produced a shiny key from inside her blue linen shirt. “So? If I cut you loose, will you rip me ’ead off and run raving through the city?”

  Ward jerked on the chain, rattling it and causing the post to creak with the strain. “You mean as opposed to saving your ass like I did back at Dame Ruby’s?”

  True tsked, then stepped a little closer to insert the key. She twisted it, and with a click, Ward was free. He rubbed his wrist as True pushed his legs. “Shove over a little; this crutch is turning me armpit black and blue.” Ward grunted as he moved his legs. Tightening his core, he felt the lingering pain in his side and lower back for the first time and winced. True chuckled again. “Yeah. Them buggers did a number on ya. Figure if you ’adn’t been half-wolf, you might have passed on.”

  “Well, looks like I’m all in one piece, at least.” Ward regretted his flippant words when True’s face fell. “I’m sorry, True. Sorry about your leg and your poor deputy.”

  “Aye. The wounds aren’t so fresh any longer, no worries.”

  “Speaking of not so fresh, I don’t know how I’m even talking after not eating for nearly a week. Did I get some water, at least?”

  “Oh, aye, Lisa and Haley have been at your side, drizzling cup after cup of honeyed water into your parched, grumblin’, growlin’ mouth.” She looked toward the little window, cleared her throat, and looked at him without a hint of humor. “I’ve got to talk to you about some serious matters, but I think I’ll let you get some food first.”

  “No. Tell me now. What’s going on?”

  “There were seventeen cultists in that room. Far more than you expected, I know; I ain’t blaming you. Thing is, only two survived, and they were burned something ’orrible.”

  Ward sighed and pushed himself up into a near-sitting position with his hands. “Yeah, I, uh, was hoping we might be able to take more of them alive and exorcise the demons or whatever.”

  “I know that’s what you wanted. Like I said, I ain’t blaming you. The nobility in the city, however, are blaming you and me besides. You see, none of them folks were commoners. They were all tied to the nobility, and some of ’em, like Dame Ruby, were pretty damn powerful folks. Then there were the ones that were in league with ’em. Your friend Lisa’s cousin, as an example. You saw his men turned on us at the last minute, yeah? So people didn’t take too kindly to me having my surviving deputy arrest him nor the ones he gave up to my questioning.”

  “Jesus.” Ward was honestly surprised the marshal wasn’t strung up in the streets. He was lucky he hadn’t been strung up while he’d been unconscious. For a town the size of Westview, losing that many nobles would be an enormous scandal.

  “So,” True continued, “I’ve had my hands full. Lucky for me, I was wrong about the city watch captain. He backed me right away when I showed him the evidence in the ritual chamber; those twisted, demonic bastards didn’t magically start looking normal again after they died.”

  Ward tilted his head and arched an eyebrow. “So? I have a feeling there’s a ‘but’ coming.”

  “Well, Ward, when half the nobles in a city lose family members to a marshal’s intervention, it stirs up a lot of noise, whether the local constabulary is on that marshal’s side or not. I’ve been recalled to Primus—to the Citadel—for an inquest. More than that, they want me to bring that gods-damned artifact with me.”

  “Shit. Long journey?”

  “The longest. Primus is a month’s travel via a living ship.”

  “Well, sorry for your bad luck, but—”

  “Oh, dear man, it ain’t just my bad luck. The Assembly wants to ’ave a look at you, too.”

  “Huh.” Ward dragged his nails through his beard, enjoying the feel of the stiff bristles as he thought. “Sorry to disappoint, True, but we just spent a fortune on ship tickets to Springsea.”

  “I wasn’t askin’, Ward. Look at the bright side; the Assembly will pay for your tickets to Primus, and you can sell them other ones.”

  Ward pushed himself further up, shifting his legs away from True toward the other side of the bed so he could stand if needed. “So, you’re arresting me?”

  “Arresting? No, but if you refuse to address the Assembly about all this, it’ll make my life a living hell, and then, yes, I imagine they’ll put out a bounty for your capture. It makes you look bad, if nothing else!”

  Ward’s scowl deepened, but he didn’t say anything. True had said the right thing. She needed his help, and she wouldn’t try to force him. The threat of a bounty down the road was concerning, but she’d couched it in the right terms. The Assembly didn’t know him. They wanted to question him. It wasn’t totally unreasonable, and did he have anything against seeing the capital of the system? Did he really want to go to another relatively backwater world? Weren’t they just going to Springsea because it was the next closest world?

  “Are they going to be reasonable? Will they try to prosecute me?”

  “No, they’ve already seen my reports, and we marshals have allies in the assembly. I’ll be by your side. They’ll want your testimony, and they might want to get a good look at you. My report mentioned your, uh, particular talents. As far as they know—as far as anyone knows—you saved this city, Ward. If that cult had grown unchecked?” She shook her head and shuddered.

  Ward chuckled, sucking his teeth as he shook his head. “You’re full of shit.”

  “What? ’ow so?”

  “That!” Ward pointed his finger at her. “Your accent comes and goes.”

  True grinned sideways at him. “You caught me. I play it up; folks make more mistakes when they think they’re dealing with a bumpkin.”

  “Yeah, I get it. Listen, let me talk to my friends. I feel like it’s only fair if we’re all involved in the decision.”

  “Sure, Ward. You ought to eat, too. Miss DeGrand ought to be by soon. Careful with that one; her cousin’s in the city prison, and it doesn’t look like he’ll be out soon. Worse, she knows he told his men to kill her along with the rest of us.”

  “Dammit,” Ward groaned. “What is it with backstabbing, evil cousins in this world?”

  “Ain’t that the truth?” True smirked at her word choice, then stood and stuffed her crutch under her arm. “Speak to you soon.”

  As soon as she was out of the room, Grace appeared, lying on her side, head propped up as she stared at him. “That was interesting. Are you afraid she’s being dishonest?”

  “No. I think she believes what she’s saying. I don’t necessarily trust this ‘Assembly,’ though.” He stared at her for a few seconds, then groaned. “Okay, out with it. What’s your opinion?”

  “My opinion? Oh, I don’t know. Why would anyone want free passage to the most advanced world in the system? Why would anyone seeking knowledge and power want to visit the center of all that?” She feigned a yawn. “How boring it all seems!”

  Ward gave her a shove, nearly knocking her off the bed. “Smartass.” The door opened, and she disappeared, but she reappeared when only Haley came through carrying a tray laden with meat and cheese.

  “Hungry?” Haley asked, bringing the tray over to him.

  “Holy shit, that smells good.” Ward could barely contain the saliva flooding his mouth. She’d barely placed the tray on his lap before he had a fistful of cured pork and was stuffing it into his mouth.

  “I bet he won’t say a word until he’s eaten every scrap of that food,” Grace observed.

  Haley laughed. “I’ve never seen anything like it! He’s like a starved dog.”

  “Wolf,” Grace corrected.

  “Ung,” Ward added, jamming some cheese into a mouth already full of meat.

  Haley sat down near Ward’s feet. “Did True talk to him about Primus?”

  “She did. What do you think?”

  “I think it’s an amazing opportunity. Honestly, I think she’s scared to travel with the artifact alone, and I feel like we ought to help her. I mean, even if the Assembly didn’t want to talk to us.”

  “Us?” Ward managed to get out around another enormous bite.

  “Mostly you, but True said we should come to back up your tale.” She looked down, frowning as she picked at a loose thread on Ward’s blanket.

  “What is it?” Grace pressed.

  “I don’t think Lisa’s going to come. She’s devastated and, apparently, with her cousin’s crimes and her father’s recent death, her remaining family are looking to her to take on some responsibility.”

  “I…” For the first time in a very long while, Grace seemed lost for words. After a few minutes, while Ward continued to eat and think about what Haley had said, she finally spoke. “I don’t blame her, to be honest. She almost died three times in as many days. She’s a smart young woman, and I think she has a good heart, but I don’t know if adventuring is where she ought to be seeking her destiny.”

  “That’s not really fair, though,” Haley replied. “She got thrown into deep waters. Ward and I had already been through some hell and were better prepared for the violence we faced. Besides, I did die, and Ward nearly did a couple of times, too.”

  Grace smiled and reached toward Haley. “I wish I could take your hand. You’re such a bright soul, Haley. Lisa’s lucky to have you as a friend.”

  Haley blushed and looked down, and Ward ate some more, finally feeling some relief. His body had been starved for nourishment. When he scraped the last shreds of meat into a wad and stuffed them into his mouth, he looked up to see Haley and Grace staring, transfixed by his display of gluttony. He smiled, wiping his lips as he swallowed the bite down. “I’m going to need more soon. Tell True I’ll pay her back.”

  “Ridiculous.” Grace pinched his side, and he winced, shifting away from her. “Careful! That’s where that woman whipped me.”

  Grace folded her arms, huffing. “Baby.”

  Ward nodded toward the cedar chest. “Are my things in there?”

  Haley stood and walked over to it. “Yes. Did you want something?”

  “The hemograph. I want to see how much damage Grace did.”

  “Damage?” she asked as she lifted the top of the chest open.

  Grace huffed. “I had to use a tiny bit of anima to activate that amulet.”

  “Ah!” Haley cried. “Your song?”

  Grace clapped her hands together, beaming. “That’s right! Did you like it?”

  “All right, all right,” Ward grumbled. “Quit patting yourself on the back.” He slapped the blanket beside him. “The hemograph, Haley.” Haley dug around for a minute, obviously searching through Ward’s pack, and then she brought the wooden box to the bed. When Ward pressed his finger into it, and it drew his blood, they all watched with expectant faces, waiting for the report:

  Previous reading detected – Earlier values displayed in brackets.

  Bloodline: Evolved Human – Aetherborn traces, Lycan prominence, *Unknown* traces

  Accumulated Mana: 56 [1288]

  Mana Distribution: Natural – No allocation enchantments detected

  Mana Well: Tier 4 – 7% [Tier 3 - 91%] to next tier, Enhanced regeneration – Minor

  Mana Sensitivity: Tier 4 – Bloodline dependent

  Mana Pathways: Tier 5 – Bloodline dependent, *Unknown* artifact influence detected

  Vessel Capacity: Tier 4 – Bloodline dependent

  Vessel Durability: Tier 3 – 49% [33%] to next tier, Enhanced healing – Notable, Enhanced bone density – moderate

  Vessel Strength: Tier 3 – 77% [62%] to next tier, Enhanced physical power – Notable

  Vessel Speed: Tier 3 – 25% [16%] to next tier, Enhanced reflexes – moderate

  Longevity Remaining: 85% – Tier-3 depletion rate (approximate)

  Anima Heart: Tier 1 – Emerging, Pathways detected

  Anima: 12/100 [5/100]

  When Ward saw that he’d still gone from five to twelve anima despite Grace's use of it, he whooped, punching a fist into the air. “You didn’t ruin me again!”

  Grace grabbed his ear and gave it a tweak. “I told you I’d only take what I had to. ‘Good job, Grace! You saved us all.’ There, I said it for you!”

  “Thank you, Grace!” Haley beamed at her, and Ward sighed, nodding.

  “Fair enough. You saved me at least twice in that madness.” He looked her in the eyes and, with all the seriousness he could muster, said, “Thank you.”

  ###

  Ward sat on the edge of True’s garden fountain; it was dry for the winter. He was enjoying the brisk air, mainly because the sun was bright, and not a single cloud marred the pale blue of the winter sky. Lisa smiled at him, cradling the wrist of her wounded hand, the bandages hiding the stumps of her missing two middle fingers. She looked pretty—pale and a little sad but pretty with rosy cheeks and bright eyes. She was dressed in a fine winter dress and coat—dark gray with silver buttons and a soft yellow blouse beneath.

  She’d asked him to step outside, saying she wanted a little air while they spoke, and now she paced, struggling to get started. “Hey, whatever you want to say is fine, Lisa. We’re friends.”

  She nodded, turning to face him, her eyes pooling with tears. “I suppose Haley’s told you about my decision?”

  He shook his head. “She mentioned you might be having some second thoughts. She said she was worried about you. Are you holding up all right?”

  “Not really, Ward. Laurent’s betrayal hit me hard. It hit our whole family hard. If it weren’t for the fact that nearly every major house in the city had at least one person involved in that cult, then we’d be ruined. Our victory has put me in the position to salvage our reputation, but…” She sighed, shaking her head. “I didn’t want this!”

  “So? Tell them to pound sand and come with us.”

  She chuckled, wagging her pointer finger at him. Of course, the gesture drew his eyes to her damaged hand, and she cradled it close to her chest again. “You know it’s not that simple. It’s not just this injury, either, but—” She turned abruptly, digging a kerchief out of her sleeve. He could see she was dabbing it at her eyes. When she turned, they were bloodshot and not at all dry.

  “Lisa, I’m sorry.” He stood with a grunt of pain and moved closer to her. “Come here.” He tried to put his arms around her, wanting to comfort her in her distress, but she shook her head and stepped back.

  “You’ve nothing to be sorry for. You’ve such a bold heart, Ward. The road before you is wide, and I can see it climbing many peaks. I envy you in a way, and, in another, I pity you.” She chuckled. “I don’t see much peace in your future.”

  Ward smirked. “Are you a fortune teller now? I’m pretty sure I’ve got a month to kill until True’s living ship gets here, and then I’ve got a month of relaxation awaiting me onboard. That’s more time off than I took in twenty years on the force. You sure you don’t want to come?”

  “Don’t tempt fate, Ward!” Her voice was raised in dismay, but the ghost of a smile touched her lips. “I can’t go. I mustn’t. I have to help my family and… I’m going to study. I’m going to order more books. I’m going to practice fighting—as soon as I get some new fingers—and when the horror of these last few days fades to a distant memory, and all I have left are fond recollections of you and Haley…and Grace”—she smiled, shaking her head—“then maybe I’ll seek out some more adventure. It might be years from now.”

  “Well, I hope you know that we’re damn grateful for all the help you gave us. We all suffered some wins and losses during our time together, but we came together in the end. It’s not your fault your cousin was rotten, and it’s not your fault that we were badly outnumbered at the end. You stood your ground and kept it together. You should be proud.” Not wanting to press his luck by trying to hug her again, he held out his hand. She hesitated briefly but then, to his surprise, placed her injured hand in his.

  “I’m glad I met you, Ward.”

  Ward gently squeezed her palm. “Me too, Lisa. We’ve got a month before we leave. Don’t tell me this is the last time we’ll speak.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “No, of course not. We’ve still got a sword instructor waiting to meet with us. I’ll be learning some off-hand techniques until my fingers are finished.”

  “All right, then. Just tell me when and where.”

  “I will.” She squeezed his hand with her pointer finger, then pulled herself free. She turned to the house and, over her shoulder, added, “You’re a good man, Ward.”

  He didn’t reply. He watched her leave and then sat down on the fountain again. He felt good—too good, really, considering all they’d been through. He was flush with glories, or would be after selling his other ticket; he’d gained some incredible magical abilities and found peace with the lycan bloodline buried in his genes; he’d survived a conflict with a death cult, vanquished them and, possibly, saved an entire city, and, on top of all that, he’d continued to build friendships in this new world. Ward was looking forward to the future.