He stalked through the meadow grasses, looking for Foxglove, one ear attuned in his brother’s direction. Since it was late September, the flowers would be dead, but he found a seed stalk easily. He pulled it out of the ground and took it back to prepare it.
He didn’t know what he was doing, so he let his wolf guide him. He pulled the seed pods off the stalk, then emptied the tiny seeds out onto a rock and smashed them with another rock until he had a dark paste. He pulled a t-shirt from his rucksack and cut it in strips, then gathered up all the paste with one of them. Barely touching it, it still made his fingers tingle, telling him he was dealing with something potent, possibly deadly. He took it to Timber and pressed the paste onto Timber’s injury, then tied it on with more rags.
The reaction was quick. Timber’d been sleeping as a man, the left arm flung out away from his body, panting heavily, but now his breathing eased, and he curled the arm into his body, cradling it with his other arm. After a minute, he shifted into a wolf and curled up inside his clothes, no longer panting. Canyon was glad to see it.
Canyon let Timber sleep until dusk, then woke him. Timber shifted into a man and picked up his clothes, using his left arm normally. His face still looked swollen, but not like the day before.
Timber held up his arm and peeked inside the bandage. “What is it? Feels like menthol.”
It’s Foxglove seed paste.
“Cool. You getting us outta here today?”
Canyon shouldered his ruck.You know it. Follow me.
He didn’t head north, but rather west, because he was letting his wolf lead the way. As soon as they entered the forest, Canyon saw it—the boulder with the protrusion from his dream. He walked around it, eyes peeled, and once he was on the otherside he found a hidden path. They followed it, and within an hour, they saw remnants of a campfire.
Timber grunted and pointed at a tree with a saw-trimmed branch. “Civilization.”
Canyon grunted and picked up speed.
56—Staged
Abigail made her way slowly down the stairs into the Templum with Number Six behind her, telling her about the wolves. Ethedra waited above her well with her vortex held between her hands. She was staring into it, her face lit strangely.
Sage was still unconscious in the cage, and had been for three days, which was how long her magically controlled period lasted. Abigail would be rousing her soon. The two dirty wolves were still stuck in the hole and Abigail needed them to stay stuck there a little longer.
“We confiscated da truck, Missus,” Number Six was saying. “Had ta tow it, couldn't get into it.”
Abigail snorted. “Thatvodvodthinks he's so smart.”
Abigail reached the bottom of the stairs and hurried to Ethedra’s well, her face expectant.
“They’re near the north wall,” Ethedra said, her eyes on the vortex.
“They’ll find the way out!” Abigail turned and grabbed Number Six by the shirt. “Cut the power to the elevator!”
Number Six patted her hand. “They don’t know the code.”
Abigail shook him. “They’ll hack it!”
Number Six held his hands up. “Ayuh, Missus.” He went to the electronics panel and threw an entire row to the off position. “That’ll hold ‘em.”
Abigail turned back to Ethedra. “Kiki?”
“She’s back to hunting.”
She pointed at Number Six again. “Sage’s apartment?”
He produced a printout of all the times Sage’s apartment had been checked by thevodthat day. They’d knocked on thedoor at 6 a.m. and again at 4 p.m. They weren’t expected again till almost midnight.
Abigail muttered thickly to herself as she set about the next phase of her plan. “It has to be enough; it has to work. Just a couple more hours.” She went to the well overflowing with mouse eyeballs. Usingvvyst, she lifted the eyeball vat up and set it aside, then peeked down into the well. Conri Bloom lay curled at the bottom, in perfect magical hibernation, which was so easy withbearen. She’d snatched him three days ago because he was key to her plans.
She hurried to the table and picked up his cellular phone, forcing it to unlock, looking through his dozens of recent calls and texts.
She went back to Ethedra’s well, holding up the phone. “Onefheargacha, if you please. Only for a moment.”
Ethedra rolled her eyes, but handed it over, dropping it between worlds. Abigail caught it and put it on her right index finger. She scrolled through the texts until she found several from Conri’s brother, Bruin, who was out of the country. She read through them carefully to see if any indicated he was coming home.
