Chapter 4
The instant Mak and Kalia vanished behind a row of shelters, loneliness washed over Flisety like a chilling wave. She shivered, then began pacing a tight circle, her gaze sweeping the streets.
She found herself examining every passing wolf, even those so distant the shade of their Pelt was hard to make out. What would happen if Rowtag found her here? Would he force her out of the ring?
Yet that wasn’t the true fear of the thought. What made her shiver was the realisation that if he tried to chase her away, the sting would awake in her claws again, and this time she wouldn’t hesitate to let her dart fly.
She hissed between her fangs. No, she wouldn’t let herself become that beast again. She had control of her own body, her own magic. The strange darkness would only get to her if she let it.
Even if it did promise Fixel the avenging he deserved.
Spinning on her paws, she paced the other way, her pads pressing against cobbles. She felt for Kalia’s band with her magic and pulled it tight against her leg, letting its smooth texture compress her fur. All of her focus went into that band, for that was where her focus belonged. On Kalia, and her exciting magical invention.
Still, she couldn’t help but let a glance dart about the streets again. Unlikely as it was, meeting Rowtag again was a risk she didn’t wish to take. She noticed a gap behind a shelter, mostly obscured by a tangle of brambles, and sped towards it before she’d let herself consider how unnecessary it was.
Her fur caught on the thorns, but she ignored the pricks of pain and struggled through. It was a tight space, but the support of the shelter’s wooden wall felt more secure than the empty brush of the air.
She glanced down at the band, thankfully confirming that it hadn’t been noticeably scratched on the way in. She hoped she hadn’t ruined Kalia’s plan by moving. She guessed that this signal would have something to do with the band, but she wasn’t entirely sure what.
“Hey, Edkar! You coming tonight?”
The sudden voice, shockingly loud, jolted Flisety upright. She ducked lower behind the shelter, yet curiosity pulled her to peer through the brambles.
She locked eyes on the speaker, who was lingering outside a shelter several paces away, and froze. His dark orange coat summoned a fresh memory within her. He was one of Rowtag’s companions, which meant if he saw her, he would recognise her immediately. She was acutely aware of the bright nature of her pink fur.
Thankfully, the wolf’s attention was focused elsewhere. A Toxiwylf -- presumably Edkar -- was sitting outside the shelter, studying his claws. “You mean Rowtag’s party?”
Something sharper than thorns stabbed at Flisety’s spine. She held her breath.
The Flamewylf nodded. Edkar looked up and cocked his head to the side. “Still debating. Alysi might come round tonight.” Together with his smile, his tone betrayed an extra detail. Flisety swallowed her sound of disgust.
Much to her relief, neither of them elaborated. Stepping forward, the Flamewylf barked a laugh. “Fair enough. But you’ll be missing quite the party.” A spark entered his eyes. “We’ll all be quite mad, if you catch my meaning.”
Clearly, Edkar did. His head lifted, his attention grasped. “You don’t mean…”
“I do. Garel got a new delivery yesterday. Of course, most of them go to Rowtag rather than being sold, but all the better for us.”
Flisety dug her claws into the soil. Quite mad. She could be entirely wrong, but from the unrestrained excitement shaping their snouts, she couldn’t think of anything else rare and sought after enough to match.
Acel-bak, translating to ‘madness berries’. They only grew in a section of central Sylvera, not too far from Lunerda. Flisety had never even seen any, let alone tried one, but she knew what they did -- it was clear in the name, after all. She and Fixel had joked about them once or twice, but she’d never wished to actually take an acel-bak. Sending yourself into a brief insanity, losing control of all thought, was not inviting to her, however freeing it might be.
Yet from what she’d seen of Rowtag, the idea of him enjoying them fit quite well, and clearly these two wolves took after him. She growled silently to herself.
In her thought, she missed a portion of their conversation, but the Flamewylf’s next comment snapped her attention back. “Speaking of Rowtag, you’ll never guess who tried to fight him earlier.”
Edkar leaned closer. “Go on.”
“Aest-nef. A Kinetiwylf, even.”
“Fantastic.” Edkar barked a laugh. “What a duj.”
Flisety’s claws tingled. If he’d seen her fight, he wouldn’t have dismissed her as incapable so easily.
“It was quite the show,” the Flamewylf added, his smirk so smug she longed to scratch it from his snout. “Anyway, I’m sure Rowtag will tell you the whole story later. I best get back to the Tower. See you tonight, Ed!”
Edkar returned a similar farewell, before the Flamewylf bounded away. When he passed Flisety’s hiding place, she tensed, but he vanished without a glance.
With a long, quiet sigh, Flisety moved back, closing her eyes for a moment. Her heart had begun to pound without her noticing. The very mention of her fight had sparked her magic to life, throbbing in her claws, and it was all she could do to hold it back.
She couldn’t let this happen. She wouldn’t become a story Rowtag told his friends at parties, the kind they howled with laughter over, the kind where they shook their heads and wondered at how useless that Kinetiwylf had been. Her true fiery fury and the glimmer of fear she’d seen in Rowtag’s eyes would be lost. The return to the dark void and the loss of control would be for nothing, because in the end, all she’d achieved was to make a fool of herself.
And that wasn’t what she wanted to give Fixel.
She rested her head against the wooden wall, carefully steadying her breaths. Perhaps not, but there was still a chance of avenging him the right way. In the shadows of the shelter, an idea gradually leaked into her thoughts, the beginnings of a plan.
Comments (0)
See all