The Wolf Fey (A Frost Novella) Page 2

  Father had a grim look on his face. “The war between the fairies have escalated. The Summer Kingdom has captured one of the Winter Kingdom’s royals, and the Snow Queen is furious. She has her Winter Knights patrolling all the lands, including our forest, ready and eager to take prisoners.”

  “But the Wolves are neutral in this war. We do not take sides,” I said, echoing what I heard Grandfather had said throughout the years. “Don’t they know that...these seasonal fairies? We don’t care about their war,” I said.

  Father nodded. “That’s what we hope, but since taking over our Forest and land, forcing us to find food elsewhere, our people are urging Grandfather to choose a side - Winter or Summer. The Wolf Fey are outnumbered by the seasonal fairies, but if we choose a side, we have better chances of survival and of preserving our lands.”

  “Is Grandfather ready to choose?” I asked as we came nearer to our home in Feyland.

  “One of the other clan is forcing him to decide,” Father said firmly. “Balthazar is his name, this wolf challenger.” Father looked at me then in all seriousness. “Watch your back with Balthazar. Do not trust him. He doesn’t know the word ‘loyalty’ if it bites him in the butt.”

  I laughed at Father’s words. It was funny coming from a lawyer who was also a werewolf. I now towered over my father, but he could probably outwrestle me any day.

  “So he can be bought at any price, I take it,” I said.

  “Winter Kingdom, Summer Kingdom, Pixies...you name it. Balthazar can be bought, and now whoever bought him wants to use him to get to your Grandfather.”

  “Not if I can help it,” I said. “I’ll watch Balthazar during the meeting. Don’t worry.”

  My father smiled and reached out his hand to pat me on the shoulder. “That’s my boy. You have the makings of a king, you know.”

  “Well...” I said. “And so do you.”

  Father laughed, and then we shifted into wolves, running as fast as we can through the unconventional routes of Feyland, over a fjord and across the land nestled between the Summer lands and Winter lands, a patch of land covered with trees, with stretches of grass and lakes in between. Here in the Forests of Feyland, the Wolf Fey ruled. Here in the forests, the Wolf Fey called home.

  Chapter 4

  The Chase

  Father ran first into the clearing and into the trees where a cave was hidden in the mountains. He was immediately greeted by other wolves, welcoming him back into the clan. Father shifted back into his human form and walked out to signal for me to join him. I ran as fast as I could, thinking I should make the clearing and the trees fairly quickly, but as soon as I made it halfway across, a large shadowy shape sprang out of nowhere.

  It was a Minotaur aiming its large bull horns straight at me as he rushed like a football player out at me.

  “Run!” Father yelled, transforming himself back into a wolf before springing towards me.

  I sped up, running until my legs ached and my lungs burned, but the Minotaur was faster. In a moment, he had grabbed hold of my hind legs, tackling me down to the ground. I twisted my head behind me, trying to sink my teeth into his monstrous face. I was lucky, my sharp teeth made contact and I could taste the coppery taste of blood on my tongue as I crunch down harder, trying to tear flesh away from his face.

  The Minotaur roared in pain, loosening his grip on my legs, just enough for me to leap out from under him. In human form, I was large, built like a gladiator. In wolf form, I was larger. But under the Minotaur, I was dwarfed in size. He was more bull than man, and I had only made a small dent in stopping him. In a minute, he had stopped wincing and had started running towards me again.

  The trek to Feyland was a long and hard one, and I was in no condition to begin another run, but as I saw the fierce red eyes of the Minotaur flying fast at me, adrenaline took over. That and anger. I could keep running until I was exhausted and then fall prey to the Minotaur or I could face him.

  I decided to face him.

  He was still running towards me when I stopped, and when he was a few feet away, I sprang up at his throat, baring my fangs as wide as I could and bit down hard until I heard bone crunch and tasted hot pulsing blood run down my mouth. I had his throat in my mouth in one second, and in the next it was ripped out of him.

  The Minotaur did not have the breath to scream his last scream as he fell down on the ground like a cut tree, dead.

  I was panting softly, taking the gruesome scene in as Father and a pack of wolves showed up, panting and out-of-breath. How far did I run, I did not know. But I was now near a running stream. I walked over to the stream, placed my muzzle down into the cool water and washed the Minotaur’s blood away. As I bent down again to take a drink of water, I saw the reflection of four men - all tanned, muscular, and handsome. My Father, Grandfather, my older cousin Jacob and his friend Paris. I shifted from wolf into human boy again and turned around.

  “Well done!” Grandfather said, smiling and coming over to put an arm around my shoulders. “Who knew this would be the day when the Minotaur is slain. And by Logan, our youngest wolf.” He beamed proudly while he turned me to face my Father, Jacob, and Paris. Father smiled widely while Jacob and Paris kept a straight face. The only sign of emotions I could see in their faces was a twitch around the corner of Jacob’s lips. He did not congratulate me nor did he say anything stupid like he always did to tease me like he did growing up.

  “That was pretty brave,” Paris finally said, clapping me on the shoulders.

  “I would not think less of it,” Grandfather said proudly. “Logan not only has the strength of the old Feyland Wolves, he has the heart.”

  I blushed, embarrassed by Grandfather’s praises in front of Jacob and Paris. Unlike me, Jacob and Paris were Feyland Wolves who had spent most of their lives in Feyland, like Grandfather did. Although they had human blood in them, they detested being more human than fairy, and refused to be raised by human mothers in the Land Beyond the Crystal River.

  As I glanced over at Jacob, I could see he did not like that I had bested him over the Minotaur, winning the favor of Grandfather. At nineteen, he was older than me, and he should have been the one to take down a Minotaur. I knew that thought was in his heart. I wished it was he who should have been the victor rather than I, for he was the one who wanted to be Grandfather’s favorite grandson. At the moment, all I wanted to do was get this Wolves meeting over with so I can return home to Gregory, Oregon to prepare for Breena’s birthday, not fight Minotaurs, not get involve in petty jealousy politics...

  As though Father could read my thoughts, he cleared his throat and said, “We better head back to the cave. The meeting with the other wolf clans will be starting soon. We wouldn’t want to be late for our own meeting, right?”

  Grandfather nodded. “Yes, the meeting...that darn meeting.” He looked squarely at my Father, his son, the big bad wolf lawyer, and said, “Well Counselor, what do I say? It is time to make the decision...”

  Father answered back. “You do what you think is best for the Wolf Fey, Father, like you’ve always have.” Then all five of us shifted forms and started running back to the cave.

  I knew it would be a difficult decision for Grandfather, having known the sovereignty of both fairy courts - Winter and Summer, having forged a friendship with both courts for wolves to travel back and forth without hindrance through Winter and Summer territories. Knowing Grandfather, he would have preferred to keep it as so, but the tides of change will force his hand soon, and it will mean I will have to join him in Feyland for however long I do not know. Father had already joined Grandfather more or less, only returning back to Gregory to see Mother and I once a month, and now having been the one to defeat a Minotaur, I could see Grandfather thinking about my future in the Wolf Fey. No doubt he thought I would be the Champion... the strongest and fiercest wolf in Feyland, the one who would bring magic back to the Wolf Fey. The problem is, my heart was in Gregory with Breena, and at the moment, I could not see a future witho
ut her.

  Chapter 5

  The Promise

  The wolves from the different clans of Feyland have gathered at Grandfather’s home, a large cave the size of a manor house with all the amenities of one, too. Because Feyland Wolves were not wolves, but rather werewolves, they needed human comforts like rooms, furniture, and everything human in a home. I was not selective about furnishings by any means, but I was glad Grandfather’s palace was nicely furnished. It reminded me that I was more human than wolf.

  Grandfather walked in, followed by Father, Jacob, Paris, and I. “Sorry, we were late,” he bellowed, taking the head seat of a large oak table. Father took the seat next to him, and I took the seat across from Father. Jacob and Paris did not take a seat, but situated themselves at the back of the great hall near the door.

  Already situated at the table were the Wolf Clan leader of the South, Deacon, a man in his fifties with blue eyes and yellowish-blonde hair, and across from him, the Wolf Clan leader of the North, Balthazar, a man in his mid-twenties, tanned like myself, but with pale blue eyes, and dark wavy hair. If he did not have a scar from a deep cut plaster across his face like a gruesome reminder of a battle he escaped with his life, he would be what girls at school would call movie star handsome. Remembering my conversation with Father about Balthazar’s tricky ways, I could not care less about the way he looked right now. Rather, I was concentrating on what he would do. For all the magic in the world, for all the enchantment that being a wolf fairy had, I could sense danger and death in the air. And the scent was strongest at the table.

  “So, let us get this meeting started,” Grandfather said in his gruff wolfish voice. “I did not wish to have this meeting, but since the fate of Feyland has come to this, we must face the possibility that we, the wolves, would be dragged into this darn war.”

  “Yes,” Deacon said. “It is inevitable now, isn’t it?” He slammed his fist down on the hard oak table. “They have forced us to take a side...the Winter and Summer fairies. As of right now, the Winter fairies have encroached upon our forests, cutting down trees to use as weapons and firewood and driving the animals that we hunt away.”

  His eyes flashed as he spoke with heated passion. “My people are being forced to leave our home in order to hunt for food. Families are being torn apart as parents leave their children behind for days to go on a hunt that now takes them away for days.” He stood up. “Your Highness,” he addressed Grandfather. “We must choose sides now - Winter or Summer, fight with one so that we can keep our lands, our home from the other.”

  “Why side with the seasonal fairies, Winter and Summer?” Balthazar spoke in his surprisingly deep voice. “Why not side with the Pixies? They have claimed the lands of Feyland long before the Winter and Summer fairies. According to them, all of Feyland is rightfully theirs. If we side with them, we will have certain advantages.”

  “No!” Grandfather said, standing up. “I will not bring my people into this war. Do you understand the costs of war?” Grandfather turned to Deacon. “You think your forests are devastated now, wait until you see how the trees, the grass, the whole forest, your home will look after a war. And families? You think families being torn apart by a hunt taking parents away from their children for days is cause enough for joining the war? Wait until you see the war orphans - instead of a few days without their parents, they are forever torn apart from their parents because of war. ”

  “I can understand your need to keep the wolves out of the war,” Balthazar calmly said. “Have you thought of the advantages we will have when we join? The Pixies offer riches beyond belief. They promise us more land, more bounty. If you choose the seasonal fairies, the Winter Queen has the advantage. Her army of Winter Knights are cold, unemotional, and strong. If we are going to choose a winner for this war, I would side with the Winter Court...but apparently you prefer status quo. That is how it has always been, right, old man?” Balthazar looked away from Grandfather’s face in disgust.

  Grandfather blinked as Balthazar stood up. “Old man?” Grandfather repeated.

  “Yes,” Balthazar said. “Old. Man. Ahh, I meant. Your Highness.” His voice had turned cold. It was clear how he hated Grandfather and disagreed with the Wolf King’s rule.

  Balthazar and Deacon exchanged looks before both took out daggers from underneath their shirts. I moved as fast as I can, getting in front of Balthazar on his way to Grandfather, but Deacon had already made quick long strides to Grandfather’s side. There was a swishing of air, and Grandfather fell forward, his eyes in shock. I caught him in my arms, while Father, Jacob, Paris, and other men of our clan fought Deacon and Balthazar.

  I recovered from my shock quickly, and was angered beyond reason. As I saw the traitorous Deacon and Balthazar trying to flee, I wanted to join the fight. But Grandfather’s hand clamped down on my arm. “Logan,” he gasped, trying to talk.

  “We have to heal you,” I said. “I don’t know how. Fairies are supposed to know how. We’re fairies, us wolves. Can we heal you?”

  Grandfather tried to pull himself up in my arms to whisper in my ear. I leaned down, placing my ear near his mouth. “Logan...our fairy blood is dying. Generations of mixing human blood with wolf fey has diminished our fairy magic. I am afraid we cannot perform fairy healing.”

  “No, but we have to find you help, Grandfather,” I said on the verge of panic.

  “Logan, I am old, I do not have much time. I must tell you something important that you must promise not to tell anyone.”

  I swallowed. “Of course, Grandfather. I promise.”

  Grandfather nodded. “Because you are the youngest of our clan, you are our chance, our hope. Your father married a human - your mother, no offense - but this diluted our fey blood. Without fairy blood in the next generation, the magic that helps us shift will fade until we will be trapped in one form forever.” Grandfather coughed, and I can see the strain in his eyes as he fought back unbelievable pain. His stabbing by Deacon was deep in the chest near the heart. Seeing the gaping hole in Grandfather’s chest overrun with blood that soaked through his shirt, hit me in the guts. Father and I knew Grandfather would die one day, but I was not prepared for it to be today. Tears I did not know I had rolled down my cheeks until they fell on Grandfather’s chest, mixing with his red blood.

  I tried to compose myself for Grandfather to continue. “What will happen when there is no fairy blood in us?” I asked.

  “We will remain in wolf form permanently,” Grandfather faintly said. “Promise me, Logan, that you will not let that happen...that you will find yourself a fairy woman to marry and have children with so our clan will continue as fey.”

  My heart dropped. Marry a fairy woman? How could I promise Grandfather this when I loved only one girl - Breena, who was human? I struggled to say something when Grandfather spoke again.

  “It is vital for our clan to exist in Feyland, Logan... this fairy blood.”

  “I know,” I said, picturing Breena’s face in my mind, remembering how she felt in my arms, how I felt when she looked at me with those direct lavender eyes. How could I say “good-bye” to her? I loved her more than life itself.

  As Grandfather’s breathing became more labored, his voice ragged, “Your father will be King, and you will be the Wolf Prince when I am gone.” He weakly patted my hand. “You were always my favorite grandson. You must be proud of being a wolf. Be proud of who you are, Logan. One day you will be a good and strong ruler. And you must do what is best for our people.”

  “I promised, Grandfather,” I croaked, my throat suddenly feeling parched. With his last breath, my heart shattered into a tiny million pieces for losing the Grandfather I loved dearly and for giving up the girl who owned my heart.

  Chapter 6

  The New King

  Father had avenged Grandfather. Still holding Grandfather’s body in my arms, with tears in my eyes, I saw Father shift back into a man. On the ground at his feet was the body of a large yellow wolf with its throat torn out. Deaco
n.

  I have almost liked Deacon, have admired his devotion to his people and even once looked up to him as an elder. It was hard seeing him beaten. Dead. It was hard seeing anyone dead, although I’ve seen quite a handful.

  But in Deacon’s death, Grandfather’s death was avenged.

  Father bent down and cut off a piece of pelt from Deacon’s body. Then he handed it to me. “This is from the traitor who killed the Wolf King, your grandfather. Wear it proudly to let those know you have avenged your grandfather. Now the Wolf King can rest in peace.”

  I took the still-warm pelt and placed it over my shoulder. Father took Grandfather from me and laid him down on the oak table. Father, who lived in Feyland and Gregory, said a prayer for Grandfather before he called the rest of the clan together.

  Jacob and Paris came in dragging a bloody and bruised Balthazar. “What should we do with him?” they asked Father.

  “We’ll wait and hear from the rest of the clan, shall we?” Father asked Balthazar. “You and your friend just killed the Wolf Fey’s beloved Wolf King. Think that is going to sit well with his people?”

  “You might as well kill me now,” Balthazar said proudly, staring down at the ground before him.

  “That was what I thought,” Father said. He clapped, and the doors open, letting in a large group of Feyland wolves. When the last of the Wolf clan staggered in, Father made an announcement:

  “The Wolf King, my father, was murdered. I am now the Wolf King, and Logan is the Wolf Prince.” Startled looks and even weeping filled the cave as the reality that my beloved Grandfather, the former Wolf King was dead. Then there was a roar of approval, as they shouted, “Long live our new Wolf King and the Wolf Prince. Long live the Wolves of the Feyland Forests.” Along the shouts of approval, came shouts of anger. “Death to the murderers!”