Young Writers Society

A few months later....

I hit the ground running- literally. The guards were on my tail as I bolted down an alleyway to the backstreets that I knew so well. Once they were on my home turf, I had the advantage. Darting around a corner I slid through the backdoor to an abandoned building and vaulted through a trapdoor that opened into the sewers- a back entrance to the Lair. Even if the guards did pursue me down there, they wouldn’t be able to keep up.

I kept up the speed for several more minutes before the yells of pursuit were out of earshot. From there I found my way to the Guild. The Wildcat would be happy with my catch- a ring off of the finger of Lord Kennewick himself. He was the only noble that ever came through town, the poor bugger.

Padding down the last tunnel, I waited for the sounds of our tavern to reach my ears. None came. Silence.

Frowning, I slowed, unsure. Dropping into a low crouch I made my way to the door and pressed my ear to it.

“That’s the last one,” a man was saying. “According to our list we’re missing one of the ones that got into Kennewick’s manor, the one who pretended to be Lady Branwen, but all the others are bagged, sir.”

“Well, find her. I don’t want to tell Kennewick that we lost some fifteen-year-old scoundrel.” His voice was authoritative and I had no doubt that this was the top dog.

“Yes, sir. We’re sending out guards through the sewer now, but she knows them better than we do.”

“Well, we’ll do what we can, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.” Footsteps receded.

“I know you’re there.” The second man’s voice didn’t seem to be addressing anyone- I couldn’t hear another soul in there. “Are you really going to make me come find you, kid?”

Was he talking to me?

“You’ve got about five seconds before I come and get you.”

He was talking to me. I fell back- I needed to run before I met the same fate as the rest of the Guild.

“5…”

I turned and raced down the hallway.

“4…”

The yells of guards trying to find me somewhere up ahead.

“3…”

The desperation of trying to escape as I spun around and went back the way I came.

“2…”

There he was, blocking my path.

“1.”

The man’s brown eyes glinted from the reflection of the broadsword in his hand. “You are under arrest. Surrender yourself or surrender your rights.”

I would have run. I should have run. That’s what my head told me to do, that’s what Ari would have told me to do.

My instinct thought differently. Fight.

No.

Fight.

I couldn’t.

Fight.

He’d destroyed the Guild, my family, my home.

Fight.

I had to. The world became black and white, the contrast stark in the darkness that had formerly blurred my vision. Every detail was visible now. I could hear the man’s heartbeat, smell his sweat, feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins….

Next thing I knew, I was on the ground, the guardsman pinning me down. I growled, struggling to get free, but he was bigger and stronger than I. I wasn’t quite sure how I’d gotten there, but there wasn’t much time to worry about what had happened.

He pulled a rope off his belt and began to tie my hands. “You are under arrest for major thievery, breaking and entering, and impersonating a noble.” The punishment for which was death.

I didn’t say a word as he hauled me to my feet and dragged me to the cart with the last of the Guild. I didn’t know any of the thieves there very well- the Pride was big, and I didn’t recognize them all.

_________________

The door clanged shut behind me with a finality to it sure as death itself. My weapons had, of course, been taken and unfortunately they’d all been found. I paced like a caged beast, back and forth and back and forth, never faltering in my step..

Step, step, step, pivot, step, step, step, pivot, step, step, step, pivot…

I lost track of time. I simply put one foot in front of another again and again and again.

The Guild was gone, obliterated. Any semblance of family or of pack I’d had was now gone. I couldn’t become a werewolf and go back where I came. I didn’t know my parents. Now I was trapped, trapped like some beast and awaiting my death sentence!

No home.

Step.

No family.

Step.

No pack.

Step.

No life.

Pivot.

I slammed my fist into the wall with such fury that I actually managed to put a crack in the brick. Oblivious to the pain this caused me, I did it again.

Why was I damned to this eternal circle? Fight, find home, find place, find pack, be slammed back down!

Crack.

I had done nothing, nothing to deserve this!

Slam.

Why me?

The brick shattered into a billion pieces, falling to the ground with hollow chinks, scattered across the floor like my life.

Damn!

I fell back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t fight, I couldn’t win. There had to be a way, any way, to get out of here. I was going to go mad in that brick cell, pacing along the same wall over and over.

Footsteps interrupted my reverie. They were probably coming to feed me- they couldn’t have me starve to death before the execution, now could they?

A key scraped in the lock and the door creaked open. Two guards stood in the entryway. The one in front gestured for me to put my hands behind my back so he could tie them.

I growled. I might die, but I sure as hell wasn’t going down without a fight.

That was a very bad, very reckless idea that earned me a broken nose, a black eye, and several bruises.

They dragged me down the hallway to another cell, this one with a table and two chairs in it. Great. An interrogation room.

The second guard shoved me into a seat and stood back as the first disappeared outside. I snarled as he pushed me, but couldn’t resist.

The man who’d arrested me entered the room, a white and silver Hunter-bred dog at his heels. It gave me a glare as the man took a seat across from me. He smelled…odd, something I hadn’t noticed before. I couldn’t place the scent but it was definitely not a normal one.

“My name is Inialos,” he was saying. “I’m the Dragon, the Last of the Three.” So he was a Hunter, and a damn good one, too, to be one of the leaders.

I gave him a death glare and didn’t answer.

“You don’t have many options,” he said. “Actually, right now, you don’t have any. As of the first day of Raliith — which is tomorrow, if I’m not mistaken — you’ll be strung up with the rest of your friends and get to find out what death really looks like.”

“What’s yer point?” I growled.

“I’m willing to give you another option. Join the Hunters and I’ll give you a pardon.”

What? What motive would he have to do that? I was just some common thief — or, rather, a very damn good one — not anyone who was Hunter material. Hell, they were more than just guards- werewolf hunters nonetheless.

And, being a Hunter, I had no doubt that he’d recognized my distinct albeit very slight accent.

“What do you say?”

What did I say? He was giving me a chance at life, but that meant betraying the closest thing I’d had to family since the Pack cast me out. I couldn’t do that. They had my loyalty, through hell and back again if need be. I shook my head.

Weirdly enough, he didn’t seem overly surprised. “Don’t take this, and you’ll be dead by tomorrow.”

I just watched him with those icy blue eyes of mine, making it very, very clear that I wasn’t going to betray them.

“Why wouldn’t you take this?”

Finally I spoke. “I ain’t betrayin’ me own guild fer life ‘r anythin’ else. Ain’t for them I’d be dead in a hole somewhere, so I ain’t ‘bout t’e leave ‘em.”

I don’t know what I expected his reaction to be, but I hadn’t expected that satisfied smile that crossed his face. I was about to make a sarcastic comment about it when the song reached my ears.

The Huntsong. Howls echoing across the plains with promise of blood and chaos and death. I had no doubt about who they were coming for- me.

Inialos stood so fast his chair hit the floor when he heard the cries and bolted out the door, leaving me with quite the predicament. The guards came back, gesturing for me to stand up. Didn’t they ever just talk?

I ignored them. If my plan was to work, I needed them closer.

Sure enough, they came forward to grab me. As the first guard extended his arm to haul me to my feet, I grabbed the chair and spun, winding him. He stumbled back as the second one drew his sword. How considerate.

Thank the gods I was good at unarmed combat.

Number two charged me with his sword to the side, leaving himself open for attack. Idiot. Did he think I couldn’t fight? I charged back and slammed him with my shoulder. He hadn’t expected that. Stupid, underestimating me just because I was only fifteen. Fifteen year olds can fight.

Now number one was standing back up and drawing his own blade. He advanced with number two, cornering me.

The howls were growing louder, faster, more consistent. They had almost reached the climax of their song. When they did, they’d cut it off and then move in for the kill.

The second one raised his blade. “Stand down or we will kill you.”

“Try,” I dared. It was rather brazen and probably very stupid of me to say that.

That was when they both converged on my position. I dropped, avoiding their attacks that were aimed at more vital areas and darted between them as their swords slammed the wall. One’s clattered to the ground- the other retained control.

I jumped, swinging my wrists under my feet so that my hands were tied in front of me instead of behind. The one who still had a sword swung at me with an overhand attack. I blocked with my bonds and he sliced right through them.

“Thanks,” I said, and sprinted out the door.

Dogs have a very good sense of direction, and, thankfully, so did I. It only took me a moment to figure out which way I was going and then off I went as fast as my legs could carry me.

I had two options: run or fight. If I ran, I left the innocent humans to face the Pack, which I knew full well was after me. If I fought, it was suicide. I turned to go towards the back exit- this was a good time to take Ari’s advice and take a run for it.

Something stopped me. I felt the guilt gnawing at me already. Could I really just leave them?

Damn my conscience! I spun and ran down the passageway to a side exit. They had many exits in these jails, because things like the Pack attacking happened far too often. They needed to get the guards out.

I hurtled straight into a figure as I tore around a corner. Stumbling, back I looked up at who I'd nearly knocked down.

"Lynx?!" What the hell was he doing here?

"Agrona?!" He seemed just as surprised as I.

"Ain't y' supposed t' be in a cell?"

"I could ask the same of you. They were quite curious about you, you know." His blue eyes had a look in them, one I hadn't seen before. It unnerved me.

"You didn' tell 'em nothin', did y'?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

Wait, what? How? He was my leader, my alpha- he had my loyalty, did I not have his?

The Wildcat saw my surprise. "What, kit? You so startled I gave them what they wanted?"

"Traitor," I snarled.

"There wasn't loyalty to begin with, girl."

Had these last three years been nothing but an illusion?

"They're right. Yer nothin' but a lyin', backstabbin', son o' a bitch," I growled.

"You're no better." The wolves' howls were growing louder.

"Yes, I am. I don' kill innocents fer money, and I don't betray me pack!" I lunged forward and slammed my elbow into his ribs before he knew what hit him. He stumbled back and I leaped forward again, slamming his head into the wall. Bastard.

He crumpled to the ground, unconscious. I dragged him into a cell and charged down the corridor and skidded through the door, tearing down a sidestreet. The wolves’ song had stopped. Now to wait.

Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long. It was only about three minutes before I saw the hunting party step out from the alleyways and corners. Humans turned wolf before my eyes, approaching the prison. The Hunters were already there.

I didn’t have time to ponder how the Hunters had worked out where to go. The wolves charged, tearing through the Hunters’ ranks with ferocity.

This was my last chance to run.

No. The innocent would survive!

I scrambled up a wall to the top of a thatch-roofed hut. “Hey!” I screamed at the wolves they froze, realizing that their target was not where she was supposed to be. “You! Yeah, you! Y’ wanna piece o’ me, t’e Harbinger o’ Death? Huh? T’en come ’n get it, y’ ground-licking, cowardly, deer-sired, newborn whelps!”