We set off down the road leading away from the palace, armed with two carts, six horses, and enough knives and swords for the whole damn army. I don’t know what we expect to happen. Panthers are vicious, sure, but considering we outnumber themandhave the Light of Solari on our side, it should be an easy enough venture.
I opt to walk rather than ride one of the horses. I could conserve my energy, but what kind of message would that send? That I think I’m better than the men and women who march beside me? Nonsense.
Hugh and Sym walk to either side of me, and we stay in the middle of the group. Our marching order is intended to protect me, make me less of a target, but I wonder if I would be better off in front. Keeping wolves between myself and the attackers just puts them in harm’s way should I unleash Solari’s power. I have a modicum of control, but accidents happen. It’s almost as though they want to sacrifice those lives.
Almost by design.
The first day goes without incident. In every town we go through, small children chase our carts and weave between us, babbling questions and offering trinkets to the “warriors.” Their parents bow in deference and offer up their homes should we need to rest. I gracefully decline each offer, as that might place the poor citizens in more risk than if we just passed through.
We set up camp for the night, then resume our trek at sunrise. Hours upon hours pass with no sign of our enemies. More towns, more fanatical responses to my presence, but no panthers. We reach the near edge of the woods and beyond, but we continue on unmolested. No one jumps out from behind the trees, no one leaps from the shadows. The birds chirp like always, the squirrels chatter, and still no attacks.
It’s almost too easy.
By the time we get to the site of the first attack, my nerves sit on a razor-sharp edge, teetering on the verge of a steep drop. Every movement catches my eye, every scent heightened, every sound magnified. I almost wish the panthers would just get on with it. Attack us already, give us an outlet for this tension.
Six of my thirteen companions have shifted to their more deadly wolf forms. The rest stand armed to the teeth, steel glinting in the scattered sunlight streaming through the trees. I have a dagger in each hand, and the Light of Solari lies just beneath my skin, vibrating with power.
Still nothing.
We stop at the edge of a small clearing to rest and regroup, and I send four scouts—two as humans, two as wolves—out to investigate the woods on either side of the road ahead. For a moment, all seems rather boring …
… until a yelp rips through the air, followed quickly by the sharp tang of blood hitting my nostrils.
Our soldiers spring into action without need for orders or commands. I sprint with them through the trees, heading for the sounds of struggle. We break through the brush at the bank of a bubbling creek, a sight that would have been peaceful if not for the sheer amount of violence before us.
One scout crouches over the body of her partner, bloodied snout twisted into a snarl. Four long slashes in the throat of the other scout still drip coppery-scented blood, his human face frozen in a mix of rage and terror. Parallel gouges crisscross his broad chest, exposing both muscle and bone.
Just behind the scouts lies a slight, crumpled form. From the curve of the hips and the splay of raven hair around the head, it appears to be a young female wolf in human form. I can’t tell from where I stand how badly she’s hurt; there’s too much blood. I can neither spot nor scent any companions near her, and I wonder how she ended up alone in the woods.
Surrounding the wolves are four shifted panthers, each with bloodied claws and fangs. None of them appear to be injured, a problem I intend to rectify.
“Wolves, attack!” My voice rings out through the trees, and without waiting for the others to heed my call, I jump into the fray.
My feet pound the dirt as I charge forward, blades at the ready. I release the energy within me to ignite my knives, summoning the gift our priests have dubbed “the Blades of the Sun.” Flames flicker along the lengths of the steel daggers, heating them to a bright red glow. I reach the panthers first and slam full force into the one nearest the injured girl, knocking it off its feet as we tumble away.
The acrid scent of seared flesh and fur burns my nose as I slash its flank with my charged blade. A roar echoes through the forest, and it twists to try to bite me. I’m too fast, though, and get my other blade between its mouth and my neck before I meet the same fate as my soldier. It roars again before falling silent as my dagger slides through the hinge of its jaws like the proverbial hot knife through fresh cheese.
My momentum is such that I roll with the body several feet before we come to a stop. I twist and stand in a crouch, bloody blades smoking as I assess the scene.
Two more panthers still stand, while the fourth has been taken down by Hugh and Sym in wolf form. They circle around the body, hackles raised, growling at the nearest panther. More soldiers, both man and wolf, box in the remaining enemy.
Four accounted for, but where are the rest? One report mentioned as many as a dozen panthers.
My question is answered in the form of overlapping growls from all around us.
It was a trap.
Chapter 4
Cara
“What’s this? A whole unit of wolves come to slaughter!”
The voice comes from behind me. I whirl around, angling so my body stands between the injured wolf girl and this new threat.
On the hill above me, a dark-haired nude man leans against a tree, his posture relaxed, though it doesn’t fool me. I smell him now, the panther beneath his skin, and I refuse to let my guard down just because he appears at ease. Black shadows move in my periphery, multiplying and spreading out all around. Without taking my eyes off the apparent leader of these bandits, I count no less than nine, with the sounds of leaves rustling and branches snapping behind me indicating even more flanking us.
Given the four we’ve already encountered, it seems our earlier estimates were off.
