CHAPTER 24: Demon Grey
That winter, the biting winds and constant snowfalls didn't torture the Tortallan people alone: wild animals also turned desperate and began preying on humans for their meals. A certain wolf, dubbed Demon Grey, was becoming largely infamous; even when the majority of the other beasts had been killed, he had lost only an eye to a bowman. Finally, after a young baby fell victim to his ravaging hunger that February, the king decided to take action. Every man capable of handling a spear was to report outside at dawn in two days' time to hunt down the murderous creature. The morning before, Duke Gareth decided that Alanna should tag along too.
"You're as good as any knight, and probably better than some. Why shouldn't you come along?" he said briskly.
"Because it'll be cold, and I hate the cold," Alanna whined under her breath, though positively glowing at his compliment.
So, the next morning, to the men's dismay, she sat out in the yard, bundled up tightly in layers of snow gear. When Douglass commented on her presence, she simply waved an arm dismissively. "I'm just along for the ride."
Duke Roger rode up on her other side, the strangest expression on his face. "You are taking this seriously, though, surely? It's not just a ride in the woods with the boys."
Alanna didn't look at him in fear of betraying her utter hatred through her eyes. "Of course, my lord. I would never treat something like this as a game."
"Oh, leave her alone, guys," Jonathan told them. "Alanna knows her stuff. She's proved that many times before now—you know that."
The two of them exchanged grins, and then the group headed out on the hunt. At first, it seemed almost like a game—the boys joked, laughed, and started snowball fights. But then, around midday, one of the soldiers spotted a fresh trail of wolf tracks. Voices hushed, and bows and spears were readjusted to more efficient positions. A half an hour later, a bowman took a wolf down, but it wasn't Demon Grey.
The large group separated into smaller ones, branching out and communicating through horn calls. Sometime around two o'clock in the afternoon, Raoul, in Alanna's group with Gary, Jon, Alex, Roger, Douglass, Sacherell and Geoffrey, found enormous paw prints that could not possibly belong to a wolf. Alarmed, they ventured cautiously into the trees where the prints led. Alanna squeezed her ember-stone for comfort and stuck to the back of the group with the nervous squires.
A small growl was their only warning. Alanna spun around with a gasp just in time to see a gigantic brown bear swipe an equally gigantic paw across Douglass' face, knocking him head-over-heels off his horse. Pure reflex made her throw a handful of Gift-fire at its head. Just before hitting its mark, however, it collided with an orange mist shot from behind her. She watched in shock as the two Gifts slammed into one another and exploded in a blood-red burst of sparks just in front of the bear's face, causing it to roar, turn, and flee. It dropped to the ground ten feet away, riddled with arrows. The archers emerged from behind trees, while still more hunters hurried to help Douglass up from the ground.
Alanna could only stare at the place where her Gift and the orange one—Roger's, probably—had collided. Suddenly everything was becoming clear. Whenever her violet magic mixed with Roger's orange—like now, and when she had healed Jarinth—it came out blood red. She also knew that blood red magic had splattered the palace repairs and that it had run in the Queen's veins during her strange illness. And if she assumed that Roger's orange Gift had something to do with those situations, then a violet Gift had to be present too, in order to cause the new color. Since she knew she herself had not contributed, she could only deduct that someone else with her same Gift-color had. And only one other mage existed with her Gift-color that she knew of: her brother, Thom.
"My apologies, Alanna," Roger chuckled. "I hadn't realized you would react the same way I did, or I would have aimed elsewhere."
Alanna looked up at him and found herself staring straight into his gorgeous blue eyes. She found herself staring into eyes that stared ruthlessly back, studying, questioning, testing—and she knew even before the small smile touched his lips that he had seen right through her, right through her suspicions, fears, and knowledge about him and his ways. He knew that she knew about him.
"Alright, you lot," Duke Gareth announced, trotting up as if his leg weren't stiff from its break at Drell River Valley. "Good job with the bear, but we're splitting up, now. Jon, take Meron and go with those men over there. Gary, take Veldine and head east with these hunters. Raoul, Alex, and Wellam you two join the group heading north. Trebond, you and Roger will come with me. We're going to double back and see if old Demon Grey is following us, because we don't seem to be following him. Now, remember: no heroics. If you see something, then you yell. You guys aren't experienced enough to take down that Chaos-sent beast on your own. Gods bless, and let's go."
Alanna kept Duke Gareth in between herself and Roger, bracing herself against her heavy fear of Jon's cousin. At the same time, Duke Gareth taught her the finer points of hunting, and she hung onto every word to take her mind off Roger, who watched her constantly out of the corner of his eye. An hour later, from a clump of trees closest to Roger, something growled. Alanna brought up her bow as Duke Gareth held a finger to his lips, creeping slowly towards the trees.
Suddenly, however, the same growl repeated from behind a different tree two yards from Alanna. All three of them turned to face it, just as a snarl erupted from Duke Gareth's trees and the duke dropped under an enormous grey ball of fur.
"Your Grace!" Alanna shrieked, lunging forward, but suddenly was slammed to the ground under another monstrous, snarling weight. Her bow slipped from her hands.
Sharp teeth wrenched her hat off her head and scraped painfully across her scalp. She screamed and rolled, dumping the animal in the snow. He barked furiously and jumped back at her, but hit her awaiting sword. The blade speared his shoulder, and he howled and shied away, taking Lightning with him. Alanna glimpsed his face only long enough to see an empty left eye socket. She had found Demon Grey.
Now crazy with fury, he lunged at her again. Unarmed, she flung herself to the side, but not quickly enough. He slammed into her ribcage, knocking the breath from her lungs. Mind reeling with panic and pain, Alanna groped for her knife. She found it just as Demon Grey yanked at her arm. She blindly swiped and managed to hit fur; he released her arm with a yelp.
She turned as the wolf leapt again, and threw herself into his flying body, knocking him back and plunging her knife into his chest. Teeth sank into her shoulder; claws tore at her face. She screamed and yanked the dagger out to stab again once—twice—three times—
His body froze, shuddered, and went limp. Too faint and pained to do anything else, she fell as he did. Her vision blurred; her shoulder, head, face, and side all throbbed sharply. She closed her eyes and gasped for breath.
"Alanna? Alanna, are you alright?" someone cried.
Her head swam. Who was talking? What had they said?
"Here's—er—the girl's necklace…," a gruff voice murmured, and someone shoved something into her hand. "Must've broke when Demon bit 'er."
"Thank you, Hunter. Trebond, open your eyes. Look at me, Trebond."
That voice belonged to Duke Gareth. Alanna opened her eyes. White snow and blazing sunlight blinded her. A shadow moved over her, though, and she recognized the duke's face. She opened her mouth and winced as the slashes in her cheek responded angrily.
"Trebond, are you alright?" Duke Gareth asked firmly.
She stared at him blankly, and then blinked. What? She looked around. Mounted hunters surrounded her, staring. Roger stood there too. For some reason, he glowed orange.
It took her but a moment to remember the necklace in her hand—her ember-stone. Knowing Roger, the glow couldn't mean anything pleasant. She sat up, ignoring the pain, and skimmed the surroundings wildly. What else glowed orange? Her eyes fell on Demon Grey, just beside her, and another frighteningly large wolf—Duke Gareth's attacker—lying, dead, yards away.
She glanced at Duke Gareth, who supported her back and watched her, waiting for an answer. Though alive, he sported gashes on his neck, shoulder, arm, and chest. He looked terrible.
Roger had just tried to kill them both, and failed.
"Yes, sir," she answered firmly. "Yes, I'm alright."
---
Back at the palace, Alanna called for a meeting with Jarinth and the Coopers immediately to relay her story. She ended with a shudder, rubbing Lightning's hilt for comfort.
Jarinth stared. "So he's already trying to kill you. Alanna, that's not good. We need to get you out of here."
Eleni nodded. "He'll find you less of a threat and will leave you in peace, more or less, if you're not around."
"What?" Alanna cried indignantly. "Run away? I can't just leave Jon to Roger's mercy!"
"You're not the only one protecting Jon, lass," George cut in firmly. "I have my birds watching him, and there's Gary, Raoul, Duke Gareth, and Duke Baird. Roger will not try for Jon's head as much as he'll try for yours until his defenses have been diminished."
"When do you intend to leave?" Eleni asked briskly.
"As soon as possible. Next week. This week."
"Tomorrow," George corrected. "You need to get out fast. If we're lucky, Roger will think you're running away."
Alanna didn't think the gravity of the situation had quite hit her. Everyone else spoke so seriously, and she already felt like the wolves had been a dream. "Where will we go?"
"Um… the west coast. We're planning on going to Carthak this spring, but our ship doesn't leave until May. We'll go to Caynn and take the Coastal Way through Legann to Port Saragin."
Alanna shifted anxiously. She had forgotten. Though apprehensive of their voyage to Carthak, she was even more anxious to reach Saragin and talk to Duke Nathaniel, the last known person to have seen her brother.
"Sounds good," Eleni agreed, nodding solemnly.
"So, tomorrow, dawn, we're heading for Port Caynn."
Alanna trembled, staring down in her lap. Tomorrow, and then no more George, Myles, Jon, or any of the others. She didn't want to leave. Corus had become her home.
"Come on, Alanna," George finally sighed, easing himself from his chair. "Let's go get your and Jarinth's horses ready. You need to get back to pack."
Alanna glumly followed him out the door. Silently, they saddled the mounts, but before they returned to the women, George caught her arm. "A word, if I may."
She winced and nodded. She hadn't told George about Jon, but still had no doubt that he knew why her nightly visits to the Dove had ceased. She didn't want to know how awkward it would be to discuss this with him when his own feelings for her were so clear.
"Listen, lass, we don't have time to beat about the bush. I know about you and Jon. But I just want you to know that there aren't any hard feelings between us, if that's what you want."
Alanna sighed in relief, a hundred pounds vanishing from her shoulders. "Thanks, George."
"I also want you to know that, if anything goes awry with Jon, I'll still be waiting for you. I'm patient like that for the lass I love."
She hugged him. "I'll miss you."
"Take care of yourself, lass."