Chapter 73
Avalina followed the Horned King all over the castle as he showed her everything the massive structure contained.
She had only seen a small part of it before, and the sheer size of it from the inside was just as staggering as the outside. The Horned King told her which rooms were which, in between her questions and his replies.
Most of her fear had subsided, but at this proximity to the lich, she still felt a very deep terror of him, despite the rather civil conversation they were having. The weight of just *who* he was, and *what* he was, pressed against Avalina heavily, and she still felt the bile rise in her throat when she looked at him for too long.
If he noticed her discomfort he made no mention of it, and she was determined to make good conversation while she had him talking, although his very voice made her hair stand on end and her blood freeze.
Exploring the entire castle took several hours, and she was thankful for the Horned King's slow, deliberate pace. Without it she would have been worn out.
The went up and down flights of stairs, walked endless halls, and Avalina knew that there would be no way possible she could ever remember all of this.
The Horned King may have noticed the overwhelmed expression on her face, for he told her, "You may explore anywhere you wish, except below the dungeon level. The Invisibles will guide you back if you lose your way."
Avalina timidly asked, "What's down there?"
"Nothing of your concern."
Shivering under his stare, she asked no more of the subject.
As they approached another door, Avalina sensed the Invisibles all around, and one of them whispered something to the Horned King. She pretended not to hear the little breeze, for they had said they were not allowed to communicate with her, and she didn't wish to get them in trouble.
The Horned King gave the faintest of nods, before turning to her, gesturing for her to go in front.
"Go on."
The doors swung open, and Avalina looked back at him, wondering what he was getting at.
"But there's no torches."
"Just go in."
Her nerves on high-alert with the Horned King directly behind her, out of her sight, she tiptoed inside, before she felt the breeze sweep about and all the torches lit simultaneously.
Avalina's eyes widened as she gasped out loud, putting a hand to her mouth.
The room was massive, easily the size of the dining hall, lined wall to wall and floor to ceiling with large shelves. Rows of them extended the length of the room down the center, leaving walkways between each one, with ladders to reach the higher areas.
And they were brimful of books. Every single one.
Avalina could only stare in dumbfounded shock as she stared all around, completely at a loss for words. She had never seen this many books in her life. She hadn't even known this many existed. She had seen the royal castle's library, but it had nothing on this one. Apparently the royal family didn't appreciate reading as much as she'd thought.
Books. Books everywhere. Anywhere. The entire room was filled to the ceiling with them. She could read to her heart's content and then some.
"You. . .don't like it?"
The Horned King's voice dredged out behind her, making her jump. She had forgotten he was there.
Turning to him, she said a little breathlessly, "Its. . .its beautiful! Whatever made you think I wouldn't love it?"
"You're crying."
Avalina brushed her cheeks, realizing it was true, and she thought that just for a split second, he looked almost disappointed.
"No, no!" She hastened to reassure him, "These are happy tears, not sad ones."
The Horned King looked slightly puzzled.
". . .I have never seen someone cry because they're happy. How can you tell the difference?"
Avalina nearly laughed.
"I don't know! You can just. . .tell."
Turning back to the room, she made a weak gesture, her words nearly coming out as a whisper, "I had no idea there were so *many* books in the world! It'll take me the rest of my life to read them all! And maybe three more lifetimes on top of that!"
The Horned King gestured towards a small ring of furniture near the fireplace on the left side of the room.
"Well then, I suppose you had better get started."
In a daze, Avalina slowly walked down one of the pathways between the shelves, reading the titles on the spines and wondering just which one to pick up first. They all looked so interesting!
The soft rattle of breath behind her made her turn and nearly jump out of her skin at how close the Horned King was to her.
"I. . .This. . ."
She furrowed her brows slightly. The Horned King seemed to be struggling with himself, and she slightly inclined her head to the side, puzzled by this behavior.
"Yes?" She asked him curiously, wondering what he was trying to voice.
"Think of this as a gift of gratitude for. . .saving my life."
It sounded like he had choked that sentence out rather unwillingly, but Avalina heard the sincerity in it, and felt her heart grow warm.
"You're welcome, sir," she answered softly. "And thank you."
Arran turned the horse and plow around at the end of the field, before stopping the horse in the shade of the forest.
They had been working for hours, and both of them needed a break. It had rained thoroughly all day yesterday, and the ground was awful wet to work. But it had to be done.
Clipping the feedbag to the mare's muzzle, Arran sat down with his own sandwich to rest.
It had been almost a month since he had acquired the animal, and he had to say, he couldn't have made a better choice.
The chestnut draft mare obeyed all his commands, and was as patient and willing a beast as he had ever seen. She was good and steady, reliable and well-trained. She was much better than the black beast Arran had had to work before.
His sister had worked, rather. The horse had grudgingly tolerated him when Avalina was around, but if for some reason she would disappear he would balk and refuse to obey his commands. He could swear the animal had laughed at him during these instances, and it felt so good to have something that would actually listen to him, especially since he had never been fond of horses in general.
Arran couldn't help but think about his little sister. He thought about her every single day, wondering if she was alright, if she was even still alive.
They were not pleasant things to ponder, and it was worsened by the fact that Arran knew he had failed her. He had failed his father, his mother, and Avalina, because he hadn't been able to do a single thing to prevent her from going back to that monster. His hands had been completely tied. Oh, if only he knew she would be able to get away in time, he would gather a mob and storm that castle and make that monster pay. . .
The mare quit chewing, pricking her ears toward the path that led into the field.
Arran noticed this, right before he heard the cantering sound of hooves.
In a flash he was on his feet, his heart thumping in his chest as he said a silent prayer.
'Could it be? Has my sister come home?'
A dark colored horse came out of the trees, before the rider saw him and cantered in his direction.
Arran's heart had soared for a moment when he had seen the dark animal, before immediately dropping into his shoes.
It wasn't her.
The brush farmer cantered up on his horse, a mostly black animal with a brownish, faded look to his coat. Arran privately preferred the type of black his sister's horse had been.
"Hey, Arran!" He called.
"Hello, Yale!" Arran called, trying to swallow his bitter disappointment, "I haven't seen you in a while! Is something wrong?"
Yale was one of the closest neighbors Arran and his family had. As in, a day's ride away type of close. But that's how it was out here, and Arran's first thought that if someone was to ride all that way, something might be wrong.
"No, nothing's wrong, but I came across somethin' mighty strange today."
Arran's heart clenched.
"Like what?" He asked, trying his best to keep his voice casual.
"Well," Yale drawled, leaning back on his horse, "It'd actually be just better if ah showed ye, if you got a spare hour."
Arran looked over at the mare, who was finished eating, but the heat was telling on her. A short ride would be nothing to the massive horse, however, if they stayed in the shade.
"I've got time."
About an hour later, they were walking down the road toward the nearest village, talking.
"So, how's your family?" Yale asked. "How's that sweet sister of yours?"
Arran gritted his teeth and willed himself to sound convincing.
"We're all alright, thank you."
Arran and his mother were determined to keep Avalina's absence a secret, for if anyone ever found out that she was missing, and where she was, the entire country would panic and Avalina's life would be in danger. If she were still alive, that is.
"Gah, what is that *smell?*" Arran choked as the horrid smell of rotting flesh entered his nose and mouth. "What died?"
Yale dismounted. "You'll see, but we better leave the horses here. They don't like it."
After walking on foot for several minutes, both of the men were forced to tie their handkerchiefs over their faces to try and keep the nauseating stench out.
Not daring to speak, Yale simply pulled Arran's sleeve and gestured to the clearing in front of them.
Arran's eyes widened in horror at what he was seeing.
Skeletons of what might have been wolves at one time lay all around the clearing, nearly filling it completely. It was obvious no scavengers had tried to clean the mess away, for nothing had been touched.
The white bones gleamed brightly through the rotting flesh that covered some of them, flies, gnats and maggots crawling all over them, through the matted fur.
The clearing was a rotting battlefield.
The skeletons were not perfect, either. Broken ribs, fractured spines, necks and smashed skulls were everywhere. Not one was unbroken.
Arran could only stare numbly.
'What in the name of Orion could have done this?'
Arran nearly jumped out of his skin when Yale drew his attention to one skeleton hanging limply from a tree limb, its skull smashed to nothing.
Yale picked up a stick and walked over to one of the skeletons, motioning for Arran to look.
Willing himself not to vomit, Arran leaned over to look at what Yale wanted him to notice.
One of the toes on the wolf's feet was missing.
Standing up, Arran began to count the rotting bodies that lay all around, his eyes getting bigger with every one.
When he was finished, Yale walked him down nearly a quarter mile into the forest, and the scene nearly made Arran leap out of his skin.
Two wolf skeletons lay impaled on the sharp limbs of a massive log that lay across the path. The image looked just as sinister as the clearing had, particularly when you took into account the scratch marks all around their skulls and feet. They had died very, very slowly.
The stench, although still bad, was not so bad that the men couldn't speak to each other, and Yale choked out, "There's one more another quarter mile down through there. It got rammed into a tree and broke its skull."
Arran counted those up too, before Yale beckoned back toward the road.
Yanking off their masks as they approached the horses, letting the slightly cleaner air enter their lungs, Arran choked out, "The Mad Pack. Every single one of 'em, dead! Thirty five wolves, unless you missed one when you were scouting."
Yale gasped himself as he mounted his horse.
"What could have done that? There's no way to tell, those skeletons are a fortnight old and any tracks or evidence got washed away by the rain last night."
"I don't know," Arran choked out as they rode their horses away from the place, back towards Arran's farm.
"What could have been powerful enough to kill all of them, and then walk away unscathed?"
"I have no idea," Arran said. "But why are the other three all down there," he gestured, "And the rest of them are way up there?"
"The only thing I can think of," Yale answered, "Is that they were chasing something, and then they walked into more than they could handle."
"How many people have you told?"
"Just you and a few others."
"Then, we need to spread the word around, tell people they don't have to worry anymore," Arran said, feeling a bit of malicious triumph inside him, "Because the Mad Pack is dead. But," he said on second thought,"Tell them to be careful anyway, because whatever killed them could be roaming about. For all we know it could be infected now as well."
Yale paled a little at this, but straightened in the saddle as he and Arran parted ways.
"You bet!"
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