Servant of the Moon #1 - unedited draft

A soft voice called out to him urgently, ‘Comhnyall, Stop!’

He was surrounded by the smell of pure snow, so similar to his mother’s scent. His wolf could feel another very near but he could not see it. A ghost from the Moon was following him, helping him, warning him, Comhnyall was sure of it. There could be no other explanation for the feeling.

He crouched behind a fallen tree. He was directly across the wider part of the Black River Lake from where the pack house had once been. He could smell wolves on the frigid, wet air. He slunk toward them carefully. His wolf ears twitched in the cold as he listened to the four talking.

“The pack house was right over there, we burned it and all the other buildings,” the black-haired one was saying.

“And you’re sure the girl you saw in town was the Alpha’s Daughter?”

Nyall’s ears perked up at the question. He and his wolf evaluated their enemy as his father had taught him. The one asking the question was a Beta or lower ranked alpha. From his scent, Comhnyall knew he was not here that night. But he was cautious, and from his stance and manner, very experienced. This Beta was the most dangerous of them, Comhnyall’s wolf decided.

The gray haired wolf answered,“Yeah. I’m sure. Her hair’s brown now but she’s got two scars down her face where I slashed her face for cutting me with silver, that was before her mother attacked me and broke my leg. Even wounded, she almost killed me before I got her throat.”

His words made Comhnyall’s lip curl up, before him stood the wolf who had taken Moire’s eye and spilled the blood of Luna Merida. His wolf howled for his death, but the voice spoke to him again.

‘Just wait and listen.’

Comhnyall pulled his wolf back. The voice was true. He needed to be cautious, patient, find out what these wolves were seeking before he attacked. He would not make the mistake he had last summer that had almost gotten him killed. There may be more wolves about that he had not scented yet.

“But she didn’t smell like a wolf and she is working for humans,” The older Beta said thoughtfully. “I don’t think you found the right girl.”

“I swear Beta, it is her. We were told her grandmother was a witch by the traitors...” he started.

“We sent 258 warriors to deal with less than 300 wolves and their pups. Less than a third of the Wemyss were warriors. How are any of them still alive?!?” A younger Beta demanded angrily. “Only 39 of you survived, all but 3 were severely injured, and now over half of those are dead, including both of my brothers and my uncle.”

The younger Beta was practically raging, Nyall could smell it. This wolf was not a threat to him and would easily end up staining Comhnyall’s teeth, just like the blood of this wolf’s uncle had. His wolf tipped his head, he had killed the uncle, but he had not killed this beta’s brothers. He wondered to himself, if he had not killed as many as the second beta claimed, who else had survived that night to avenge their pack? He had not scented any other New Wemyss wolves since then. Unless the warrior had left the territory for the mainland. Eyes narrowed, he watched them wandering around the charred ruins.

‘Follow them,’ the soft voice whispered.

Comhnyall stalked them as they walked. There was a van parked on the snowy road nearby. He continued to appraise the wolves in front of him, two betas, one old and cautious, and one, young and hot headed. Two maimed pack warriors who obviously did not want to be back in the place where they had committed atrocities against the Moon by murdering shewolves and pups. To Nyall, their fear smelled like blood to a shark.

The gray haired one limped as he walked, he bared his neck and apologized nervously, “I am sorry, Betas. Even with the witch making it so they couldn’t talk to each other, they still fought as one. They fought like nothing I had ever seen, even the shewolves and juveniles. Somehow one got out of the keep and killed the witch and then... then the Alpha used those left to slaughter us like lambs as the keep burned around them. I guess a lot could have escaped, but we counted 317 bodies when we burned them and the two who helped us. Maybe they are the ones from the town up north?”

The black haired wolf looked and smelled the most terrified, his arm hung useless. This wolf could neither shift nor fight if he wanted to. Nyall could tell he had once been a good warrior, but his mangled arm left him a cripple and it would never heal properly. He would never fight again. The bite on his arm looked like one of his brother’s doings. Nyall felt a pang of grief and loneliness for his older brothers, he missed them, their mates and children, and his older sister who never got the chance to grow up and the younger one that hadn’t been born. He missed the mother he could barely remember, but most of all he missed his father.

“Beta Lucius? What do we do now?” The gimpy gray warrior asked.

The older Beta opened the van door, “We move on. Next week, you’ll wait for the girl to come back to town and follow her home again. If you lose her this time, don’t bother coming back. For now, we’ll follow the list of address and see if there are any wolves still living in the territory. If that blonde warform is still here or any of the New Wemyss wolves, we’ll finish them off and take the girl with us.”

Comhnyall growled aloud as the van drove away. He followed stealthily. He wanted to kill these wolves, before they contacted anyone off the Peninsula but first he need information. He needed to know what they knew. He had to warn Shamus not to come to port if they knew about him, and he had to move his family away from Wolfville and the Hellsgate. Nyall followed the van all day as it made it’s way from the closest addresses to the pack. These wolves had been murdered in their isolated homes.

The voice whispered encouragement to him all afternoon, kept his wolf company. By early evening, Nyall watched as they parked in front of a hotel in New Minas. The older beta had been looking through a folder of papers. He threw them on the dashboard almost angrily as they got out. He looked as tired and frustrated as Nyall felt. They watched the wolves enter the lodge and waited for the darkness to grow deeper.

‘Be patient, you need to see that list,’ the soft voice whispered. His wolf agreed.

As darkness fell, Nyall crept from his hiding place, belly crawling through the snow until he reached the van. He nosed the handle, the door was unlocked, so he shift and slipped in. In the streetlights, he read the list and smiled. Shamus’ address wasn’t on the list, nor was the slip number of the Seawolf. Neither was the abandoned farm on a hook of land to the northwest. The old homestead was one of the first places wolves had lived on this land. His father had talked about it fondly. Nyall had always thought of it as a good place to go if Mamó’s den was discovered. Which it might be, he realized. On the last page he discovered a map of the Hellsgate illit (watershed) and several places circled, one was very close to Mamó’s den. Too close for his liking.

‘Where will you go?’ the voice was concerned.

“Thar be an olde homestead ta tha west, on the land’s crooked finger. No one lives there now,” he tapped the map. He no longer finding it odd to converse with this ghost of a wolf who had been with him all day.

‘Then the old farmhouse it will be, on the hook of the land, in the crook of the sea’ the voice smiled, ‘It sounds like a place from an old story or nursery rhyme.’

“Et is,” Nyall answered aloud, smiling. His ghost had a quirky sense of humor.

The old farmstead would be their refuge and they would leave tonight. He wondered if Caully or Cullen had even thought of the old place when they betrayed their pack. Nyall nodded as he glanced back at the map of the territory. The Goddess had blessed them with Caully and Cullen’s forgetfulness. Snow began to dust the air as he placed the folder back where it had lain.

He was about to get out when the voice giggled and whispered malevolently, ‘What if you left the window open?’

He almost laughed aloud. His ghost voice had a mean streak, snow would fill the vehicle by morning. Just to be spiteful, when he rolled half down the window, then he jammed it offtrack so it wouldn’t go up again.

The voice laughed and whispered, ‘I like your style, servant.’

As he slipped away into the Darkness, he made plans to move his family tonight. He wanted to sing his thanks to the Moon but he knew it would be foolish with wolves hunting them. He would have to let these wolves leave this land believing none of the Wemyss still lived here, but he vowed never to forget their scents.

‘I will sing a prayer of thanks to the Moon for you, Comhnyall, go to your family. Stay safe.’ the voice promised, then she was gone, and he felt completely alone.

The scent of freshest snow that had followed him all day was gone too, as was the warm company his wolf had felt. He was going to miss her. He wondered about who had spoken and traveled with him all day but he didn’t have time to ponder the mystery for more than the run to their den. He had to get his family away from this place.

Del woke up in her room, in her skin, with Essie on the foot of her bed, “So blonde and handsome in a kilt grew up.” She had been eaves-viewing through their twin link.

“Oh for Goddess’ sakes Essie! He has a mate, and that is Mamó’s grandson. So, I wouldn’t creep on him if I were you, you know how sharp her teeth are,” Del scolded as she took the cup of tea from the tray by her bed, grimacing at the cool temp.

But Essie just grinned with mischief, “Future kings need mistresses too.” Waggling her eyebrows at her sister’s snort. “So, what’s the big deal? Unless you want him for yourself, twice you’ve walked the Tides to help him.”

“Phtsh.... He is a new servant, a chosen one, the Moon just marked him,” Del answered quietly, shaking her head at her sister’s suggestion. Her sister really was outrageous sometimes, truthfully, most of the time.

Essie’s eyes changed and she scowled, “And what did it cost him? He’s already lost everything, just like us.”

Del looks troubled, “I don’t know yet, I can’t see anything definite. The future is in too much flux, but that he will know great sorrow and even madness before his duty begins in earnest. The Moon’s tears falling from her lidded eye, like silver leaves into the morning sea. A greater loss than the loss of his pack will push him from sanity for a season.”

Essie whistles softly, “That leaves his mate, the little one, or Mamó.” Essie rubs her forehead for a moment, her fingers wander into her hair, to her hidden scar, “Goddess, it’s never easy, is it?”

She lit a cigarette and blew a smoke ring. Her free hand drifting back to her scar. In silence, they watched the loop drift between them before Del sliced the ghostly circle in half with her finger. Then she reached out, taking Essie’s hand from her hair and squeezed it.

“No, sister, it is not.” They sat in silence as Del ate her cold dinner. The sun was set, Del felt tired like she had jetlag, for a moment, she wanted to laugh, no, not jetlag, she has tide-lag. The Tides whispered and she remembered what the Betas said to each other.

“Call Grandfather and tell him the Des Rues think the last Wemyss warrior is the one killing off their mercenary wolves,” Del says darkly.

“Del, you can’t keep letting Leon sending the Seekers out to find the ones that were there when Luca died so he and Ketsu can end them,” Essie immediately regrets saying it as Del’s eyes harden into the stone they were colored after. She looks like she could cut diamonds with a glance. Essie noticed for the first time since Luca’s death that the deep blue of Del’s eyes is slightly faded, slightly grayed. Her sister's eyes were more cornflower than sapphire now.

“He was my mate, the Moon gave him to me and they sent him back to Her too soon. We should have had more time...” Del’s voice was a hiss as she throws off the covers, “Find out everything you can about a fishing ship called the Seawolf and its wolf captain. Comhnyall trust him, but I want to be sure. I will not have them at risk. The queen-to-be needs to be strong when we present them to the packs.”

“Del, what is this really about?”

Del looks at her sister closely, “Do remember the storm visions I had as a child?”

Esther nods slowly, “Yes, but those came to pass when our pack was attacked.”

Del shook her head, “No Essie, they didn’t, not by a tenth. Every pack in this land will burn with the blessing of the bleeding sun, if the warrior king and the queen with a pure heart fail to unite the wolves of the Goddess against the burning ones. I don’t know what that means, but it will be.”

Esther swallows uncomfortably, “I... I think I know what is means...”

Del looks at her in shock, demanding,“Did you finally have a deep vision? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Trembling, Essie lit another cigarette, she knew Del hated her to chainsmoke in her rooms but if she was going to talk about the nightmare visions.

“The bleeding sun in the sign of a ancient Sun-war God, Aztec I think. The burning ones are the wolves and witches who worship him. My... my mate is... is th-their Alpha. If he finds me, he will r-rape me on the altar of his god for days, then ch-chain me in a cell like a breeder, to have his pups. He will pull my teeth, and tear out my claws, and cut out my tongue. Then let his witches touch me and pour potions down my throat so I get pregnant each time. A pup every year, that he takes away and gives to his witches to raise, while he kills innocence and decency and all that is good in the world. And you can’t see him, Del, because the Sun hides him from all those who follow the Moon but I can sometimes because I’m his mate. He’ll make me watch. He will sacrifice everyone who worships the Moon to his god and pour their blood into his infernal fire with the bodies of the children whose hearts he has devoured. He... he is a... a monster. Oh Goddess, Del... he... he wants to kill the Goddess and her sisters, and then the human god and then take over the world. He... he won’t stop until all the living of the world are corpses for his false god to... to burn and... and feed on... ”

The words pour out so fast Esther stammered over a few but they don’t stop until she was sobbing in her horror. Delilah just held her sister’s hand, wide eyed from the images in her sister’s mind, but as her sister cried, a look of vicious determination settled over Delilah’s features.

Del vowed, “I won’t let him take you, I’ll find a way to see him, Essie. I will not lose you too. I...”

Essie grabbed Del’s shoulders, shaking her. Her voice wheezed out in desperation, “If he takes me, you come through the Tides and kill me, you find a way to do it. Promise me. Promise me, you won’t let him do that to me, to my pups. Promise you’ll kill me before he can breed me, Del.” Essie was shaking and nearly hysterical.

Del put her hands on both sides of her sister’s face, in the wetness of her tears and promised, “I will find a way to save you, even if I have to kill you from the Tides.”