Page 5 of Wolf's Bane
“A new gun will not help you,” she said. The ancestor’s weapons discharged searing bolts of energy. The weapons had little effect on the monsters and more often than not exploded in the operator’s hand. They were too dangerous to use. “You’d be better off practicing with the crossbow.”
“I did. I have the callus to prove it.” Luis held up his other hand, the palm red. The family had a crossbow made of a flexible carbon material similar to the armor, but they also had an armory full of models made from humbler material.
The weapon did not matter so much as the silver-tipped arrows did. Silver injured the beasts better than anything.
“I’m going into the village to see Miles,” Solenne said.
“I’ll walk with you.”
She thought he might.
Luis sprang from his seat. Tall and athletic, the morning sun picked out golden highlights in his dark hair. Solenne knew her brother much preferred history to fighting, but they were not given a preference for their lot in life. Solenne had once wanted to learn archery and become a swordfighter. Godwin forbade his daughter from such pursuits—bet he regretted that now as Luis was unequipped to handle such responsibility on his own—so she learned the uses of the plants of the forest.
“No worries. I just wanted you to know to expect me back in the afternoon. I’m calling on Charlotte for lunch,” she said.
“Let me.”
“Luis—”
“Solenne, please. I know nothing will happen during the day, but I need to know you’re safe,” he said. “Please.”
Her brother stood a few inches taller than her. Somehow, in the last winter, he shot up and filled out. At the end of every term when he returned home from boarding school, he was taller, broader. In the months since graduating, he shot up. The scrawny beanpole she remembered now rivaled their father in stature. He was eight years younger than her, but somehow Luis had grown into an adult without her noticing.
“If you must,” she said.
“I enjoy the way you make it sound like a hardship for yourself.” He grabbed an overcoat from the rack in the hall, and they made their way into the village.
The sun had finally pierced through a rainy spring, although a damp chill hung in the air. Rain was a constant for the season. Soon enough, the afternoons would grow warm and the greenery would explode in the valley. At the moment, mud colored everything.
The Marechal estate sat midway on Boxon Hill. A standing stone circle loomed above, at the very top of the hill. The top of the hill offered panoramic views, if a person could tolerate the humming from the stones.
A ring of old-growth trees surrounded the bottom half of the hill, and denser forest growth lay to the south. To the east, the village was a brisk walk away. Pastures suitable for grazing were to the north and to the west. Beyond the pastures were the plains, the West Lands, where the terraforming of the original settlers ended and the wild, indigenous planet began.
As removed as she felt from the defunct technology the original settlers brought from the old world, it defied comprehension to think the flora and fauna were also from another world. Another planet. Various histories all agreed that a portion of the world had beenterraformed, whatever that meant. Livestock was revived from frozen cells. Seeds planted in newly transformed ground. All that humans farmed and harvested came from the old world. Even the forest and the wild plants were planted by the settlers.
Humans were aliens here.
It seemed impossible that humans had so much technology, so much power to change the face of an inhospitable planet, and it slipped away. Nexus energies caused havoc on machines and humans alike.
The settlers had changed the planet, but the planet had changed them as well.
In the sunshine, a sparkle at Luis’ throat caught her attention. Now interested, she studied his wardrobe. Luis wore his typical tan trousers and white shirt with a plain white waistcoat. The greatcoat was made of heavy wool and dyed a deep navy that hid many stains. His dark hair had been pulled back and tied with a red ribbon, but wisps had escaped. He very much had the air of a gentleman farmer.
That cravat though…
“Are you expecting to be attacked by a blood drinker in broad daylight?” she asked, keeping her tone light and jovial.
Luis touched the silver-infused cloth and blushed. “I thought it looked nice.”
She hummed and straightened the fabric. Pressing her lips to hide her grin, she looked away and said nothing. She counted Miles as a friend and he would make a suitable match.
Sneaking a glance at Luis, she approved of the excited gleam in his eye.
Just not for her. Luis’ crush on the blacksmith had been obvious for years, at least to her.
“Miles is awfully clever,” she said. Luis nodded. “Awfully handsome too.”
A furious red blush took over his face. “It’s not like that, Solenne. He thinks I’m a child,” he sputtered.
