Luna of Rogues

Part 16 - A Fight to Remember

Please don't hate my guts after this chapter. Trust that this is all part of my plan. I would put the smiley face for an evil grin here, but I don't think there is one.

Although Brandon's men were dangerously close, they weren't attacking just yet. So I thought it would be safe to find Fion. To keep her away from the battle, I had asked her to look after the toddlers. Most of the mothers were eager to fight and welcomed the offer of a babysitter.

My sister was fully capable of fighting and definitely willing to. But I had expressively told her to do the opposite. Brandon's first priority, as a young male werewolf, would be to retrieve his mate. That was happening over my dead body, so it was best Fion stayed out of harm's way. With the children to care for, at least she could make herself useful.

The entrance to the cellar was concealed by crates and sacking. Brandon knew where it was, but I was in no hurry to remind him of its existence. Everyone who couldn't fight would be safely ensconced in these stone rooms, far from danger. I had to descend several rugged staircases to reach the most secure of them. My footsteps echoed horribly, alerting them of my approach.

I half expected Fion to be waiting in the open doorway, impatient and eager for company. She had been pestering me through the mind-link for a while already, consciously or not. But instead, I was greeted by a solid and firmly closed door.

"Password, please," a faint voice demanded from the other side.

"What password?" I asked in bewilderment. We had definitely not agreed on a password. To the best of my knowledge. Or so I thought.

A stony silence was my reply.

"Look, I don't know the password. But can't you recognise my voice?" I reasoned.

"Sorry. No password, no entry. Those are the rules," the reply came. This time I exploited my wolf hearing to turn up the volume. And consequently recognised my tormentor. Fion, the annoying little asshole.

"Um ... Brandon's a jerk?" I tried. She snorted, but the door remained firmly closed. "Open sesame?"

Fion tried unsuccessfully to hold in a laugh. "Try that on a bird. It might actually work. But still — incorrect. You have one attempt remaining."

Something that will never cease to amaze me: we could be under siege and in life-threatening danger, yet still find time to wind each other up.

I racked my brains for a memorable word which Brandon wouldn't understand the significance of. At first, it was utterly unsuccessful. Then I remembered those poor, victimised fish. "Walnuts?"

There was a faint click and a grating sound as the door swung open. Fion stood in the entrance, exhausted but relieved. More faded bruises dotted her exposed skin, especially around her wrists. She was painfully thin and shaky, but the smile on her face made up for all that.

"I got it right?!" I half-shouted, incredibly pleased with myself.

"Nope. I got bored of teasing you." She moved aside to let me in. I didn't fail to notice a skittish flinch when I got close and passed it off as a side-effect of Brandon. "It was last haven, because this is the final safe place if the castle falls."

"That's kinda deep. No wonder I didn't remember it — just doesn't have the same ring to it as walnuts," I protested.

"Anyway, did you need anything? Or did you just come to criticise the security protocols you came up with?"

"Ollie made up the passwords," I muttered. "I would have been far more creative."

"Skye. Focus," Fion reminded me, with a hint of a grin.