Mother nodded. “In the villages. And it isn’t due to monsters.”
That was concerning. “Are you certain it’s the Black Claw?”
“Who else could it be?” she insisted. “Your father was concerned about them before he died. He was working on a plan to draw them out and eliminate the rest of them. Unfortunately, his time drew too short to carry out this plan. Don’t inform anyone of this. He was to keep it between us.”
This was news to me. “Why didn’t he tell me?”
“I don’t know, Ethan. Yet it makes sense. When was the last time a leshane was in Malovia? Long ago. What kind of dark magic was used to summon such a creature out of Droga’s underworld?”
Her lip trembled. “And now your father is gone.” She didn’t cry this time, but she looked like she might.
I got off the couch and leaned forward to embrace her. “I’m sorry, Mother.” I didn’t know what else to say. I still felt like all of this was my fault— that all of the Arcanea were left vulnerable due to the mistake I’d made. I was responsible for every one of my people, and I’d let them down.
Mother sniffed. “The Seven Gods help me. If you go through with this, Ethan, I’ll never forgive you.”
I stood up. “Then I guess I’ll have to beg for your mercy, because I don’t intend to withdraw my declaration.”
I walked away before she could say anything more. She knew where I stood, and I wouldn’t change my mind.
I thought about what she’d said as I packed the last of my things into my suitcase. If my father had been right, and the Black Claw was coming back into power, I’d hunt down every last one of them.
He’d died before his mission to end the Black Claw was realized. So I’d end them for him.
* * *
I waiteduntil nightfall to embark on the streets of Dolinska, just past the hour of midnight. I donned a black cloak, throwing the hood over my eyes, along with black breeches and boots. I fitted a wooden wolf’s mask over my eyes, white in color, before I locked my bedroom door and fastened a hook to my window. I quickly rappelled down the side of the palace tower. It was a hundred feet down, a straight shot, but it didn’t bother me. I’d done this hundreds of times.
When I hit the ground, I yanked the hook so that it came off the window, then rolled the rope up and tucked it into my secret spot behind a barrel before taking the servant’s door into the city. It would be much more difficult to sneak out once I attended the university, but I’d make do. I wasn’t about to give this up.
The streets were mostly empty. A self-imposed curfew had fallen upon the city since my father had died. No one seemed much in the mood to celebrate the end of the warm summer days. Everyone was nervous.
The streets of Dolinska were cobblestone. Gothic buildings rose up five stories in height around me, enclosing in the area. Renaissance mansions and Baroque churches of massive structure were built here and there among the massive spread of food carts, coffee shops open to the air, and vendors selling potions and magical items. All were closed for the night. The streetlights were dim, and the elaborate fountains sculpted in shapes of Companions and Marked were turned off. There were only a few shops open— shady bars, strip clubs, and establishments of a magical nature no Arcanea frequented unless they were dabbling in things they shouldn’t be.
I had no fear of being spotted, so I shifted into a wolf and ran throughout the city streets, sure of where I was headed. There were regular humans in Malovia, and they were afraid of us. Even though this was the modern age, fairy tales and folklore still ruled the country. They spoke with hatred of sorceresses and their trained monster hunters. They didn’t know we truly existed, but rumor and myth had been passed down generation to generation of unfeeling Arcanea and their love for blood and coin.
Anyone Arcanea wasn’t permitted to live in Dolinska— the government found excuses to avoid allowing humans into the city, and the city was surrounded by such thick forest that nobody but the Arcanea bothered to come here, anyway. The nearest human settlement was a tiny farming town, and it was at least thirty miles away.
Many humans still didn’t go out at night. A good thing, too. Centuries past had done nothing to curb the amount of monsters still lurking in the country. They avoided humans now more than in the past, because technology scared them and was unfamiliar, but every now and then one got brave enough to step out of line and go hunting.
That’s when people started disappearing. More often than not, they went after tourists who didn’t know the area and didn’t respect the culture. Malovia was mostly Christian, but the local folks still participated in pagan ceremonies and followed traditions that had been carried out by their ancestors long ago.
Mother was sure those disappearances weren’t monsters, but the Black Claw. Monsters usually left traces. The Black Claw did not. They came and vanished like a thief in the night.
Salt was sprinkled across many doorsteps. On some doorways hung crosses. Others, antlers. On a few mantles was the smearing of dark blood— deer’s blood, an offering to the Seven Gods for protection.
Monsters usually couldn’t cross these paths, if the magic had been done right. Didn’t mean the Black Claw couldn’t. It usually took a powerful Marked to keep them out.
After fifteen minutes of running, I came to a stop at my destination. It was a narrow alleyway that led to a few apartment buildings that had a statue of two snarling wolves in the middle. Rumor had it that there was a group murder in this alleyway a few nights ago. Three Arcanea dead. I was determined to investigate. Black Claw, or monsters. Which was it?
Lord Lucien wouldn’t approve of what I was doing. But I didn’t care. Something had to be done, and I’d been at it for months.
I investigated. The scene had long been cleaned up, but I was a Companion, and I could use my magic to see what had been done in the past. I cast a spell to intensify my sight and senses. I saw a glowing on the ground where blood had once been— it’d been a massacre. I witnessed outlines of bodies lying on the ground, and deep scratches in the cobblestone. The spells that had been cast left dark residue on the ground, like gunpowder. Something had come at them from behind and prevented them from defending themselves properly.
From what I’d read in the paper, the people killed hadn’t been taken from the scene. I didn’t see any signs of a struggle. That ruled out the possibility of the Black Claw. They usually took people alive, to sacrifice in dark rituals later. That meant it was a monster.
I tried using my magical sight to judge what spells had been used, but no good. I didn’t see any signs. I recalled the article in the paper. One griffin and two Marked. Throats ripped out. The authorities hadn’t caught whoever… or whatever… was responsible yet.
If their throats were ripped out, that usually meant either wraiths or ghouls. Couldn’t be sure of which yet. Ghouls liked to eat their victims, but the paper didn’t specify if the victims had been consumed. I put my nose to the ground and tried to get a smell.
