The Keeper of Wolves

Chapter 9

News of Abatardi had successfully dampened the immortal's inclinations to celebrate, although they could not be squashed altogether. Those who had been freed were still interested in relishing their reclaimed freedom, even as they tapped their glasses once against the table in honor of the dead. They hadn't gotten all the doors open before Abatardi sprung the trap he'd set, Soren had disclosed in a quiet moment. The support beams in many of the cells had been rigged with explosives as a safeguard long ago, in case someone got too unruly and needed to be simply put out of their misery. The chamber itself could be detonated, crushing everyone and everything inside. Several of their own had gotten caught in these collapses, Soren explained, and of course, everyone who hadn't made it out yet had perished as well. Kosazana felt like crying at the news: to have weathered so long in torment, to come so close to it all ending, to have it all snatched away again at the eleventh hour, seemed unbearably cruel to her. How lousy did the cards have to be for that to be the hand you drew?

"This was not fate or destiny or any such thing," Soren interjected, seeing her expression and accurately guessing at her thoughts. "This is human cruelty, plain and simple. I am perhaps a bit biased...but I hold no love for such malice."

Kosazana was inclined to agree.

Still, she did her best to focus on the people they had saved: there was nothing they could do for the dead, as much as they weighed on everyone's minds. Several of the drow, fascinated by the stars over the ocean, had proposed they take the several-block walk down to the shore. It was, apparently, everyone's idea to bring their drinks, which meant it was actually Tyr's idea. The swift and firm denial of any such association brought a smile to Kosazana's face, lifting her darkened expression for a moment, and the slight buoy she felt in her emotions was well worth it. Tyr looped an arm around her shoulders for support and walked with her. They were silent, letting others fill the night with chatter and excitement; there was no awkwardness between them, only quiet companionship.

Voldsa was among those attempting to celebrate and banish all thought of Ambatardi from her head. "One night," she'd insisted, when questioned about her motivations and intentions. "I need one night of peace every now and then. I have decided I want it to be tonight. It is as good a night as any!"

"What of the dead?" a sullen-looking witch muttered in her direction.

"Either I drink to celebrate their lives or I drink to forget their deaths. Either way, I drink!"

The rest of her wolves had joined her shortly thereafter; now, they had all congealed in one large mass in the sand, laughing uncontrollably at something that Kosazana got the feeling maybe wasn't all that funny. Still, it was hard not to smile, seeing them so goofy and ecstatic. Voldsa did have a point: one night every now and then could sometimes be just what you needed to stay sane.

A short distance away, Tyr stood alone, a bottle of dark amber liquid in one hand and the other in his pocket. Staring up at the sky, apparently lost in his own thoughts, he was entirely still...too still. There was a statuesque quality to him that indicated that he was not entirely of this world. Shivering once, Kosazana turned back to the pack of wolves, a lively and boisterous group, very much alive and not nearly so cold.

The time passed quickly with Voldsa and her pack. All of them were willing to move over to make room for Kosazana, share their liquor with her, and invite her into their conversations. Even half-drunk, the women were fierce, and the stories and jokes they shared reflected that. They were so different, so foreign, but Kosazana felt nothing but intrigue and warmth. As the night went on and the bottles got lighter, many other immortals came and went from the circle. The Fell Wolves made room for all who cared to join, scooted back in when they left to fill any gaps, and let people come and go without remark. All save for Tyr, who received a loud cheer to welcome him in as well as an entirely-full bottle of tequila, "to get him started."