The Wolves of Midwinter (The Wolf Gift Chronicles 2) - Page 86

Elthram started to come towards Phil with his arms out, and at once the females menaced him as they’d menaced Lisa, with Fiona jerking herself free of Felix and dealing Felix one fine blow that sent him stumbling backwards. Thibault quickly came to his rescue. Margon rushed at Fiona but Fiona would not back off. Elthram pressed in as before.

Fiona made a great swiping gesture at Elthram, which appeared to go right through his solid body without so much as causing it to flicker. A gasp came from Phil as he saw this, and Lisa remained close.

“No harm will come to you, master,” Lisa said to Phil. “We won’t let this happen.”

Other shadowy figures moved on either side of Elthram, unsubstantial but visible, and seeming to multiply before Reuben’s very eyes.

“You brought him here, Fiona!” said Elthram. “How do you hope to deceive us? How do you hope to deceive anyone?”

“Silence, I warn you, unclean spirit!” she said in a low seething voice. “You go back to the woods until you’re called. You have no voice here. As for the man, his fate is sealed. He’s seen us here. His death is inevitable. You and your unclean brethren should leave here now.”

“You brought him here,” Elthram continued. “You planned this. You and your cohorts, Catrin and Helena, you went for him and brought him here to force this bloody travesty. The man will not die in our forest, I warn you.”

“You warn me? You?” Fiona was howling. But for every advancing step taken by any of the females, the males countered while others moved this way and that behind them ready to spring.

There were outraged roars on all side. Only Hockan remained motionless on the periphery, not uttering a sound.

Stuart now stood directly behind Phil. Laura had taken up her place on the other side of him from Reuben. Indeed things were happening so fast, words were spoken so swiftly that Reuben could scarcely follow the thread.

“What are you now, Margon and Felix?” asked Fiona. “Sorcerers, that you call the spirits to defend your unholy actions? You think these insubstantial spirits have power over us! Hockan, speak for us!”

The white wolf did not respond.

“You, Felix, this is on your head, this death,” cried the other female. “And it can’t be extirpated, what you’ve done, you with your dreams and your schemes and your risks and your madness.”

“Back off, Fiona,” cried Frank. “Leave here now. Get out of here, all of you. Fiona, lead your pack out of here. You take on every single one of us if you persist with this.” Berenice remained silent at his side.

There came snarls from the other females.

“And what?” Fiona spat back. “Stand idly by while you drag us into yet another chain of fiascoes? You with your glorious Nideck dominion—your festivals, your village of sheepish serfs, your splendid displays of hubris? Is no one’s safety and secrecy sacred to you, you arrogant greedy Morphenkinder? Show your loyalty now to us by punishing this human! Stand with us and our customs or it will be war. Modranicht demands a sacrifice—a sacrifice from you, Felix!”

Margon stepped to the front. “The world’s big enough for all of us,” he said in a low commanding voice. “Leave now and there’s no harm done—.”

“No harm done?” came that Slavic accent from the female wolf beside Fiona. Surely it was Helena. “This man has seen us as we are. He’s seen too much to live. No, you can be certain on one thing now; this man will not live!”

Reuben was in a rage. Weren’t they all in a rage? What held them all back? It was driving Reuben mad. Beside him, Stuart uttered a long low menacing growl as he looked at the women. When the explosion finally happened, Reuben would throw himself over Phil to protect him. What else could he do?

Margon raised his arms for calm.

“Go!” declared Margon. His lupine voice rose with a power he never exerted in human form. “Stay and this is to the death,” he said, the words rolling out slowly and forcefully. “And it won’t be this innocent man’s death unless you slay every single one of us.”

Phil was staring wildly at Margon. Plainly he must have been recognizing the cadences of these many voices, Reuben thought, and Reuben didn’t dare to speak, dare to confide that he was the monster standing beside his father.

“We will not go!” said Helena, the sharp accent once more defining her. “You’ve done more to harm us in these times than any others the world over, what with your passion for human display and human kin. You tantalize the most dangerous enemies we’ve ever known, and you carry on, and on, and on as if this is nothing! Well, I say an end to it. Enough of you and your Nideck world. It’s time that house was burnt to the ground.”

“You can’t do such a thing!” Laura screamed. A roar went up from the males. “You wouldn’t dare to do such a thing!” There were low contemptuous protests from all sides. The tension was unbearable. But Felix called for silence.

“What harm have I done, and to whom and when?” demanded Felix. “You’ve never suffered on account of me, not a single one of you.” It was his old reasonable approach, but what good was it going to do here? “It’s you who bring the treachery here—seeking to divide us—and you know it. It’s you who violate our code!”

As if on cue, the males sprang at the females.

Fiona and Helena ducked and rushed Phil, their powerful arms snatching him out of Reuben’s grasp and away from Laura in a split second, their mouths closing on Phil’s shoulder and chest as swiftly as any animal of the wild moves to slay. Reuben was thrown down forcefully, and Laura was fighting as if for her life.

At once, all the male Morphenkinder were on top of Fiona and Helena, dragging them backwards, as the other females—except for Berenice—assaulted the males. Reuben, freed from his attacker, managed to smash a fist into Fiona’s bloody fangs. He felt hot breath on his face and the maddening stab of fangs into his throat. But Margon hurled his assailant away from the frenzy.

Phil had fallen to the ground, white faced and gasping, the blood streaming from his torn shoulder and side. Lisa had thrown herself on top of him.

From everywhere came the Forest Gentry surrounding Elthram and sliding between the male Morphenkinder and the two rebellious females and surrounding the females with countless bodies and countless embraces, as the two prisoners fought in vain with furious protests.

“Modranicht!” chanted the Forest Gentry in a deafening chorus. “Modranicht!” shouted Elthram.

Tags: Anne Rice The Wolf Gift Chronicles Horror
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