The Warden

Chapter 50

Masis pressed on. Even in the dim light his feet were sure, his hands unfailing, and his balance unaffected.

Still, Elwith's words kept returning.

What does he know? thought Masis.

He had not been running from his problems. He had come after them head on. Kyla would have probably said recklessly.

Masis halted.

He stood on a massive branch of an ancient, oaken monarch, one hand resting on another limb just above his head. Chest heaving, tongue lulling out his mouth, Masis just stood, eyes unfocused, the swaying leaves before him, blurred and fuzzy.

First, he had lost his family. Next, he'd brought destruction to the Shadow colony. Finally, after gaining something—he still didn't know how to classify Kyla's and his relationship—that too had been torn from him. Nothing remained but his revenge.

A half-chuckle, half-gasp vibrated in his chest at the thought.

He only had his revenge. Nothing else. No person. No place. No identity.

His home and anyone he still cared about there had been leased away with the scratch and scribble of a nib. In actuality, as soon as the night queen stepped foot in his home, his fate had been sealed more assuredly than with his family's crest and hot wax.

His claws plunged through the tree's bark into the wood beneath. His grip tightened and his claws bit deeper and deeper into the branch. They sunk in until they could go no further.

"Though I be left with nothing after," said Masis to himself barely above a whisper. "I will end the night queen."

He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath in through his nose. Comforting, familiar scents stimulated his nose. Moss, moist and earthy. Sap, clean and strong. Scat, pungent and somehow settling. Then another odor hit his nostrils, one that made him take several quicker sniffs. Corroding metal, like too much blood, bitter and out of place. The telltale sign of night wights.

The sovereigns had granted the Animal Kingdom's lands to Lady Telias and her fellow wights, but she had near insisted that no wights would be anywhere near their route as they made their way to the night queen. So why was this scent here?

Masis jumped to the ground. Trusting his nose entirely, he made his way, without a sound or rustle, along the scent trail. As he went, it increased in strength. Though difficult, after spending time with the various nightlings in Lady Telias' group, Masis had begun to differentiate between them by smell alone, but even still the differences were so subtle at times it was hard to be sure. This trail was either made by a wightie he had never smelled before or Lady Telias, herself. Which begged the question, if, as Lady Telias said, all wighties vanished just before or at sunrise, why and more importantly how had she come this way after she had supposedly evaporated for the day?

His heart beat harder within his chest at the promise of discovery, especially the prospect of forbidden knowledge. His feet barely left a trace as he first walked, then jogged, ran, and finally sprinted through the wood. Branches and ferns, vines and shrubs, hedged the way, making the truth all that much more desirable. They tried to scratch at him. He refused their advances. Twisting, ducking, flipping, at times leaping from one tree to the next, Masis sped along. Light increased in the sky, but still Wilo remained behind the horizon. Time was not on his side.

He reached for that curtain that apparently was always before him, a screen that hid the realm of the Great Wolves, a place beyond time. He envisioned a veil, tangible, made of flimsy fabric. A hand could move it aside with ease. Masis could all but feel it before him, but it would not yield to his efforts. Knowing it existed did not seem enough. A greater knowledge of its mysteries seemed requisite. It again asked for things he could not answer: who he was. A question he had no answer for. So, it remained closed to him.