The Wolf King's Burden

The Compound

The following day we ran Garrett's wolves around in circles through the woods. Owen knew all the trails, all the hidden paths, and all the areas where scent could get mixed up or lost. We ambled through streams, crested bouldery spots, and double-backed on our own routes so many times I couldn't count.

By mid-afternoon, I was hearing the annoyance in the trackers' howls. They were close, then distant, then close again. We were making them earn each mile, wearing them down while saving our own energy.

"Garrett's good, but he's predictable," Owen explained as we crouched behind a splintered log. "He tracks by scent trails like he was trained. But the woods aren't logical. They're chaos and instinct. You need to think like prey if you're going to truly disappear."

"And how did you learn all this?" Elara huffed, gasping for breath from all the running.

"Sixty years of being an outlaw. You learn how to blend into the background, or you get killed by every Alpha who considers you a threat." Owen checked his watch. "The sun will set in two hours. That's when we make our move on the compound."

The strategy was simple in theory, terrifying in practice. We'd enter from the west flank of the compound, using the incoming Alphas' visit as cover. While Kaine's busy with his guests, we'd navigate the sewer tunnel, break into the vault, swipe the Moonstone, and escape before anyone even knew what was going on.

Easy. Crazy. Our top option.

As night fell, we strolled through the woods with purpose. Owen led us down paths I did not recognize, far from trails and patrol beats. The woods grew denser and older until trees that had to have been centuries old loomed over us.

"The compound is up ahead," Owen whispered, gesturing through the trees. "See the lights?"

I could see them, row upon row of burning torches on all sides of an enormous stone and timber building. Kaine's compound was more fortress than house, with soaring walls, sentinel towers, and wolves guarding all the gates. I could feel the power radiating from it as far away as I was. This was the seat of Blackthorne power, built to intimidate and overwhelm.

"The opening to the drainage tunnel is on the opposite side, hidden in a ravine," Owen stated. "We'll have to cover exposed ground to get there. Maybe thirty seconds of exposure. If someone sees us."

"They won't," Elara interrupted. "I can create a glamour. Not elaborate, just enough to blur our outlines, make us appear as shadows or beasts. It won't hold up to scrutiny, but it should likely get us through open ground."

Owen c****d an eyebrow. "You didn't mention you could do magic."

"You didn't ask. I learned from my grandmother when she completely lost her mind. I'm not as tough as she was, but I understand what I must do to get things done." Elara produced a small pouch from her backpack. "I'll send you in a minute or two."

She threw herbs in a circle around us and muttered some words in a language I couldn't identify. A flicker of the air, and I was transformed instantly, lighter, less real. Looking down at my hands, I saw them quiver on the surface as if I was only half-present.

"That's creepy," I growled.

"That's survival," Elara said, standing up straight. "Now move, before the glamour fades."

We ran across the open area in stooped position, running fast but low. My heart thudded against my ribcage, and all my nerves shrieked that we were in the open and exposed. But no trumpet shrieked, and no guards screamed. The glamour was still intact.

The ravine was steep and rocky, but it was covered with plants. Owen led us down at a slow pace, roots and rocks providing handrails. At the bottom, after the moss, was a little hole in the rock. The drainage tunnel.

"It's smaller than I remembered," Owen acknowledged, standing in front of the opening. "You two will make it, but it'll be tight."

"What about you?" I asked.

"I'm staying here, on guard. In case something doesn't go as planned, someone's got to create a diversion so you can get out." Owen pulled out his knife and checked the blade. "Besides, I'm too old and too big to make it through that tunnel. I'd be in the middle, and we'd all be dead."

Elara rested a hand on his arm. "Thank you. For everything."

"Thank me when you're free and alive. Now go, before Kaine's visitors arrive and security is clamped down."

The tunnel was tighter than horrible; it was claustrophobic. I moved on my stomach, dragging myself along with my elbows, through mud and water. The rock pressed in on me from all sides, and more than once I had to stop and fight the panic rising into my throat.

I could hear Elara breathing behind me, hard and fast. She was scared too, but she kept running.

The tunnel stretched on and on, dark, wet, and interminable. My clothes were soaked through, my arms ached, and I shredded my knees raw on the rough rock. But finally, after what had felt like hours but was probably only twenty minutes, I saw a patch of light ahead of me.

The tunnel connected to a storage room in the basement, and was only illuminated by a solitary torch. I dragged myself out, gasping, and pulled Elara behind me. We were both covered in mud and dirt, and resembled swamp monsters rather than thieves.

"Vault's on one level above," Elara whispered, reading the map that Owen had given us. "Through this door, up the stairs, third door on the left."

We climbed up quietly, listening for sentries. Above our heads, the compound rang with sounds of laughter, footsteps, and voices from Kaine's group. Perfect cover, as long as we were quiet.

The stairs themselves were stone, polished to slipperiness with centuries of use. We crept up, sensing each step for creak. At the head of the stairs, a corridor stretched out before us, lit by torches spaced ten feet apart. And there, the third door along the left, was the vault.

Two guards stood outside, just as Owen had assured. Large wolves, alert and armed. Two massive roadblocks blocked our way to the Moonstone.

"Now what?" I panted.

Elara's face was firm. "Now we find out if Owen was right about my blood."