Page 26 of A Skirl of Sorcery
His voice rang through the night. ‘This is not a suitable place for you to be. I strongly suggest you turn and leave.’
The female werewolf lunged again and drew closer; she was growing bolder and so were her buddies. The silver wolf was pawing at the ground, snarling more loudly; even from my concealed position by the oak tree, I could see that his hackleswere raised. If young Silver had been a feral cat I’d already have been backing away, but the dryad had to hold his ground.
Although the three older werewolves were making no move to draw their compatriots away, they were smart enough to hold back and watch rather than try any moves of their own. It was difficult to tell from this angle but at least one of them seemed to have old battle scars and that didn’t bode well. The younger wolves would likely covet similar badges of honour.
One of the skinnier werewolves padded forward and circled around the cluster of dryads. He was joined by another, then another, until the three wolves were parading around the dryads in ever-decreasing circles. A knot of tension tightened in my belly.
Then I saw one of the younger dryads reach into the folds of her robe and turn her head towards her companions with a questioning glance. They nodded. Something was about to go down.
‘You must leave now,’ the tall dryad said calmly, though now it was an order rather than a suggestion.
Silver responded with a snarl and the circling werewolves joined in. The three older werewolves stalked towards the dryads, their heads lowered not in an act of submission but as a prelude to aggression. I held my breath. Perhaps that would have been a good time to grab He Who Roams Wide and get out of there, but if I ran I’d be labelled as prey by the werewolves and as a security threat by the dryads.
I checked the time again. There wasn’t long to go until midnight.Make this quick, I prayed silently.Please.
A second later, it was as if the dryads had heard me. When the young dryad pulled her hand out of her pocket, she was holding a small linen pouch. I scooped up He Who Roams Wide, who had the sense not to protest, covered his face with one hand and squeezed my eyes shut. A beat later there was a bright, whiteflash of light that pierced my eyelids, and the night sky was rent with anguished howls.
It was the magical equivalent of a military-grade flash bang, although this particular version was soundless – all flash and no bang. The dryads didn’t need noise because the searing light incapacitated all seven werewolves.
When I opened one eye to peek, it was clear that even the three more experienced werewolves had been taken unawares: two of them had collapsed. Silver was swaying off-balance, barely managing to stay on all four paws, and the three who’d been circling the dryads were crawling away on their bellies. It was over as quickly as it had begun.
The older dryad raised his voice. ‘This is your final warning. Leave this place and do not return or there will be consequences.’
He might not have regained his sight yet, but Silver wasn’t in the mood for backing down. He growled, a rumbling sound that grew in intensity. His nearest companion whined while the one of the older werewolves who’d stayed upright slunk forward and nudged Silver’s flank. The meaning was clear:Not tonight. We’ve been outsmarted and we have to go.
One by one, they picked themselves up and returned in the direction from which they’d come. Eventually only Silver remained. He shook out his fur and snarled one last time then, in a last-ditch effort, lifted his head and howled. This time his companions didn’t answer. His broad shoulders dropped and he turned and padded away, his tail between his legs.
I smiled. I hadn’t doubted the dryads’ capabilities but I was impressed they’d dispatched the werewolves so quickly.
The young dryad who’d thrown the magical concoction was beaming. ‘That was brilliant – it worked even better than you said it would! Those bastards will know better than to comeback here again.’ She pumped the air with her clenched fists and performed a triumphant pirouette.
‘Don’t get too excited,’ one of the others said drily. ‘That young silver wolf will doubtless return next month.’
Her face fell. ‘But we defeated him!’
‘That’s why he’ll be back. He was humiliated and he didn’t strike me as the sort of werewolf who appreciates that.’ The dryad was right: Silver was trouble. He clearly had a chip on his shoulder and a lot to prove.
‘We’ll double the patrols next month and change our defensive spells. That blinding trick won’t work a second time.’ The older dryad didn’t sound afraid; he was merely considering his next move. I suspected it would be a long, long time – if ever – before Silver gained the upper hand.
I crouched down and released He Who Roams Wide then watched while the dryads turn back to their posts by the main gate.
Chapter
Twelve
The remainder of my grove heist went smoothly. As soon as the dryads were out of sight and far enough away not to sense a burst of cat-sith magic, I checked the time on my trusty EEL watch. It was 11.51. Obviously I couldn’t wear the watch when I was in cat form so I’d have to rely on my body clock, but that wasn’t a problem. Although I tended to lose count beyond the twelve-minute mark, I could time myself effectively enough to snag the alder bark at the right moment – if I could find the right tree.
I plucked a small tuft of black fur from He Who Roams Wide and swallowed it. Unfortunately I banged my forehead on one of the oak’s branches as my body rose, spun and spasmed into transformation; I’d have a duck-egg sized lump come tomorrow.
Once I was safely on four paws, I shook off the pain and dipped my head in gratitude towards He Who Roams Wide. He knew better than to follow me into the dryads’ grove and I could trust him to wait close to the oak tree until I returned.
I touched my nose briefly to his then performed an unnecessary – but very satisfying – air spin so I was facing the high fence. I checked its length for inconsistencies or weak points but, as I’d already thought, the easiest way into the grovewas via the oak tree where I’d been hiding. I purred deeply, unsheathed my claws and sprang up the trunk to the first broad branch.
He Who Roams Wide was hovering at the foot of the tree, watching my progress with his judgmental gaze. I knew better than to show off; I was a cat sith, not a cat, and my joints often reminded me of that. As a result, it took me a while to choose the best branch to access the grove. I wanted to get as close to the top of the fence as possible so that it would be easier to jump over, but the nearest branch was rotten and wouldn’t hold my feline weight. Instead, I opted for a higher one which, although narrower, appeared to be sturdier.
My claws dug into the soft bark and I swayed for a moment or two as I fought to maintain my balance, but I relaxed as my feline instincts kicked in. I sauntered the length of the branch towards the other side of the grove wall. I was less than a foot away when the branch started to shiver from my weight. I paused, but it seemed strong enough to let me inch a few more steps. I kept going.
I eyed the jump ahead. The top of the fence was wide enough for me to land on it without too much trouble but I suspected that would trigger some sort of magical warning system. The dryads weren’t stupid; they could enforce a simple perimeter spell that wouldn’t activate if a mere bird landed on the fence but which would screech an alarm if anything bigger did the same. My smartest move would be to leap over the fence and land on the ground on the other side of it. In theory that was easy, though I couldn’t see what lay directly below it so I’d have to be careful.
