Blood Debt

Chapter Three

Yes, she was very close. Her stench was swirling through his brain, jumbling his thoughts and making it impossible for him to think of a strategy. He never went into any type of confrontation without a well thought out plan. He was a strategist, a thinker. He may not be the strongest of the Tribe, but he was the first sought out for battle plans when they had territory wars with the Rogues. His brother was the strong one, and he was perfectly fine with that. Besides, he doubted that he'd have trouble taking on some whithered old woman, anyway, even if she had over 400 years of experience and magic on her side. She was probably blind and deaf by now.

He padded out into the clearing, the brightness of the sun caused him to pause temporarily until his advanced eyes could get used to it. His eyes shifted fromt the right to the left, then back again. He didn't like it here, in this place he felt too exposed. Too helpless. He enjoyed the safety and closeness of the forest, where he could stay hidden. In the middle of the clearing was a dead tree, about 10 feet long, that had fallen across the opening in the forest many years ago judging by the amounts of decomposition that it had succumbed to. It was covered in moss and beautiful purple and blue flowers, vines intertwining across it in the kind of creative patterns that only nature could create.

Where was she? He could distinctly smell her here. What was going on? He crept closer cautiously, dreading an ambush, althought what would ambush him, he didn't know. Where was she? It was impossible for her to be hiding inside or behind this tree. He would be able to since if she was, Witch or not, he doubted she'd be able to fool his sensitive eyes and ears. He moved as close as he could to the tree and lowered his nose, his nostrils flairing with each breath he breathed. Then, off to the side, he saw a flair of red flickering just inside his peripheral vision and jerked his head quickly toward it, his whole body becoming tensed. Caught on one of the various flimsy branches that were still attached to the tree was a piece of fabric. That was the source of the smell. Anger coursed through him, he had been so damn close. So close to saving his best friend Galin, so close to saving his brother who was a year older than him. He had been so close and had failed. He stared at it for a few more moments in shock and disbelief, then sent a long, lingering howl into the air. He knew the urgency carried in his lone voice and that his pack would follow the orders he sent with it. It was answered by many howls in the distance and when he heard the answering calls of his pack he shuddered and closed his eyes. They were coming and before they reached him, he needed to think of a plan. But, one thing he knew, if he was going to catch the Witch, he would need the best hunter the Tribe had to offer. His older brother. He needed Lycaon. And, depending how quickly his wolves got word to him, he would be there soon.

If Lucien had looked up into the trees to his right he would've seen Her. She was there, perched on a large branch on a great Sycamore tree. Her white teeth gleamed as she grinned and her green eyes flashed. Everything was coming together nicely. Soon she would be able to sleep. Forever. And she wasn't going to be going alone. She closed her eyes and listened to the words being passed between her beautiful creations. She loved her wolves, she really did, but too bad their lives were going to end. Very soon. Lycaon and Lucien. They were the key. The last sons of her enemy, the ones that looked most like him. They were the key to ending the reign of their father. The end was near. She was tired of running. Tired of hiding. It was time to finish what she had started. The Witch had returned.

FYI:

Lucien *LOO-shun*

Lycaon *Lye-KAY-uhn*