“Conri went foraging with me.”
Aurora pauses mid grab of a handful of greens. She shoves them in her mouth, chewing over them for a long minute.
I continue in her silence, “He knows what’s been happening—more or less. That I’ve been resisting him…” I quickly recap her on the events of the past day. Her expression is impossible to read the entire time I speak. “… But I’m thinking that, if he’s sincere, maybe there is a way for us all to get what we want.”
“Not with him. Not Conri,” she says finally, shaking her head slowly. “He will want you to believe it’s possible. But there is no way he’d ever give in.”
“And maybe he doesn’t have to, not really,” I say hastily. Her words echo Evander’s and I feel more and more foolish by the moment for starting to trust Conri. “Maybe we can use him long enough to get what we need. If he thinks we’re on his side, we can use that to our advantage.”
Aurora considers this. “I’d rather you didn’t.”
I sigh heavily. “You and Evander…you both have given me such warnings about him. And I do believe you both.” I glance toward the tent flap, hoping my voice is low enough that Evander doesn’t overhear. “But Conri hasn’t been the man that you’ve claimed. At least not to me. Maybe he really is trying to change and grow?”
“I have stood beside hundreds of wolf kings, and each one of them becomes as corrupted by their power as the last.”
“Aurora, we mortals aren’t a monolith. I know you have endured hundreds of years of hardship. But every single person has the capacity to change, if they want it.”
“If they want it,” she repeats, emphasizing. “He never will.”
I rest my elbow on my knee and sink my head into my palm. “I just don’t know how to free you without his help. I saw Midscape, or just this portion of it… This world is expansive. I don’t know if I could get us free of him and I fear his wrath should we try and fail.”
“You are not alone in fearing his wrath.” Aurora rests her fingertips on my free hand that is on my other knee. “Which is why we will not fail. We will continue gathering spirits to our cause and we will call on them when the time comes for us to make our flight. We will plan carefully and only act when we’re sure.”
I nod and straighten, trying to exude more confidence than I feel.
“So let’s finish our meals and then we work on your magic again.”
We spendone more night in the camp with Weylyn’s pack, and then the tents come down. There are almost a hundred wolves now, running as one, thundering across the sloping plains. I do not find the same joy in the rides as I once did. The wind doesn’t smell as sweetly with hope.
Every night between the two pack camps, we set up temporary tents. Yet Conri’s remains the most established. Every night, I have my separate cot and he bids me to dream well.
Come the dawn, I am only more conflicted.
I watch Conri’s every movement in search of betrayal. A hint of deception. But I can find none.
Given his past, all that Evander and Aurora have said, I don’t think I could ever love him…but if he is trying to change, perhaps we could be friends. Or friends enough that he would be right and we could accomplish something meaningful for both our worlds.
Helping lykin and human alike is a far greater purpose than defending the woods. And when I am successful in restoring Aurora’s power to her, I will need a purpose after. A goal.
Every morning I wake, thinking I will have more clarity than the last. But I only feel more muddled and confused.
“Faelyn,”Conri says, announcing his presence as he enters the tent on our first night in the new pack’s camp. “Are you awake?”
“I am,” I say, even though he can plainly see as much.
Conri sits on the edge of his cot, near the foot. “If you are not too tired, I would love for you to hear our songs.”
“Songs?”
“Yes, they will be sung around the bonfire.” He extends his hand. “Come with me? But only if you wish.”
I am curious enough that I accept the invitation. Conri escorts me out of the tent, Evander at his shoulder. We head to the large bonfire at the center of camp. Half of the pack sits or stands in a circle around it. I see pan pipes and simple, flat drums.
A man I recognize as one of the other alphas gives a respectful nod to Conri. Then he tilts his head back and lets out a noise that is not quite singing and not quite howling, but something between. It comes from deep in his gut and rises upthe back of his head. Others lift their chins and howl in reply. It’s a call and repeat, soon joined by slow and steady thumping of the drums.
The pack is soon breathing as one, sharp inhales part of the sound that is quickly becoming music. Each person seems to sing-howl one sound, but they do so in such quick succession that, together, they begin to form words.
“Evander, if you would?” Conri commands in so few words.
