“AndI thought the Kings were backwards,” Tavi spoke through our bond. “It’s so weird here.”
“I know.Let’s just do what we can.”
We went to one of the huddled groups. They peered up at us, desperate, wary eyes trying to assess if we were going to hurt them. I crouched down.
“Let us help you,” I said gently. “We’ve brought plenty of supplies.”
The group began to perk up as they realized that we’d brought resources. We went around, soothing the sick, bandaging injuries, and giving pain medication to those who needed it.
The women were dressed in long linen dresses that covered most of their skin. Other than the fact that they were shaking and huddled together for comfort, most of them seemed fine. Tavi and I and the doctors began to treat them, spraying antiseptic on their wounds and bandaging them. As it turned out, the Camas already had plenty of medical supplies, so we didn’t have to worry about running out.
That would have been the case for all our supplies aside from the salves. We needed more herbs, and if I was right, there should be a bunch of what we needed growing somewhere in the forest surrounding Camas territory. I was thinking about this while treating Mulberry’s arm.
As I finished coating her wound with the last of the jars I had on me, I asked, “Do you know where we can find some echinacea?”
“Yes, it grows a few miles from here,” she replied. “We can lead you to some.”
“That’s great. We’ll need to bring a few more bodies to grab as much of that as we need.”
She nodded because she understood. “I volunteer to go. My arm isn’t so injured that I can’t gather some herbs.”
I nodded. “Thanks, I appreciate that. Anyone else want to come with us?”
They glanced at each other, then slowly raised their hands. Nine of them agreed to come along, more than enough to grab what we needed.
“You stay with the others,” I spoke to Tavi through our bond.
“You sure?” she replied.
“Yeah.This shouldn’t take too long.”
We walked for a little while. They took me deep into the forest, so deep it felt like the trees were pressing in on us. I glanced behind me, but the Camas lands were nowhere in sight.
I tapped Mulberry’s shoulder. “The echinacea is this far out?”
“Yes,” she replied. “Don’t worry. We’re almost there.”
I nodded. It felt like we were isolating ourselves from the others, but I tried to push away the worry that filled my chest. There were ten of us, after all. There was security in numbers.
They led me to a crop of echinacea. The vibrant magenta of the petals told me they would be good for combatting infections. I bent to gather them.
I’d collected an armful of the flowers when a stillness fell over the group. I raised my head, and that’s when I saw it—a wolf with mangy, dark fur coated in dust. The minute I looked into its venom-yellow eyes, I knew it was feral. It was impossible to tell if this was one of Troy’s or just a normal feral who’d wandered into Camas territory. Either way, it was hungry and desperate.
“Be quiet and don’t make any sudden movements,” I told them. “There are a lot of us, so if we stand our ground, we’ll be able to force it?—”
One of the women screamed, and the shrillness of the sound caused the feral to shake its head. I wasn’t sure who had screamed, but it didn’t matter. It leveled its gaze on us and growled, seconds away from attacking. I turned to the women and saw how they trembled in the face of this wolf. Though I was right that strength in numbers ought to make the feral run away, I realized five things at once: I wasn’t trained, these womenwouldn’t be able to help me, I couldn’t force them to help me because I had no authority over them; even if I did make them help me, that would only worsen their trauma and potentially get them hurt, and finally, I had to defend them on my own.
“Get away from here!” I called. “Go home! Get help!”
Screaming, they scattered, and confusion filled the feral’s eyes. It wasn’t sure which woman to go after first, but I wouldn’t give it the chance to find a target. I shifted and automatically let my wolf take control. She took advantage of its uncertainty to slam into it, shoving it into one of the trees.
It yelped as it bounced off the trunks. My wolf didn’t let up—she bore down on it, going for the throat, wanting to end this quickly. But the feral hopped to its paws just in time. It was much bigger than I’d thought, towering over my wolf form. It might have been as big as Night’s wolf or even larger. Teeth coated in saliva and flashing white in the sun went for my flank. I tried to hop away, but it was too fast, too desperate. It got hold of fur and muscle and bit down, ripping out a chunk of fur.
I felt my wolf’s rage as powerfully as I felt my own. She rushed again, tackling it. It gnashed its jaws, blood and saliva splattering across my fur. My wolf kept it on its back and avoided those teeth, and when there was an opening, she dived down with deadly intent. Taking hold of the feral’s throat, I bit hard at its windpipe.
The feral held out for a little while, kicking at me, but the fight quickly drained from it as the air left its lungs. In seconds, it lay still. I was more in control of my wolf again and let go of the dead feral’s throat. I felt real remorse as I stared down at it. Could I have prevented its death? Would I have avoided having to kill it if not for the fact that I’d believed in strength in numbers, onlyfor tradition to undercut me? I was so foolish, so short-sighted. And now a wolf was dead. It was only the second time that I had blood on my tongue, and I hated its metallic tang almost as much as I hated the act of killing.
I started walking back to the camp but stumbled to the side, almost bumping into one of the trees. I tried to keep going, but my body wouldn’t obey me. I glanced back at my leg. It was coated in more of the thick, sticky crimson. Only, this wasmyblood. My vision blurred as I realized far too much of it was leaking out of me. I stumbled again, but I couldn’t catch myself. Panting, I fell to my side.