Maeve ran from the oncoming man near the animal cages. The insistent roars of Dragún made a thicker bolt of fear rush up Maeve's spine. She mentally berated herself as she ran. This was all due to a heroic action when she saw Phelan in need of help when he was cornered. She just had to breathe fire into the man's long and dirty dreadlocks.
The hair had instantly ignited in brilliant orange flames. His screams had caused enough commotion for Phelan to free himself. However, that turned those dirty men on her instead. Perhaps they thought she was just a disgusting creature. Or maybe it was because she was a girl that they began chasing her. Either way, Maeve had to get out of there before she regretted her decision.
The gray light of the moon washed over Maeve's intended path as her quick feet carried her. Her bare soles were coated with mud and sharp little sticks poked into her heels. Her breath was heavy. Maeve couldn't remember the last time she had ever pushed herself to run so fast. She hoped that her body wouldn't fail her.
If the weather had been more agreeable, she would have just stood her ground and blew fire at the men chasing her. Even as the small rain droplets fell, she knew that her original plan wouldn't work out.
The men were gaining on her, their shrieks of pure wrath echoed on the grounds around her. Maeve soon entered the forest lining, hoping that their echoes would become as lost as she intended to get.
No matter where Maeve ended up going, the men were right on her heels. She could even smell the rank odour of stale ale on their tongues. She could almost feel their hands upon her skin as they continued their laughing and shouting behind her.
But then suddenly all sounds behind Maeve ceased to exist. She stopped her movement and glanced behind her. A gasp escaped her lips as she stared down the narrow path she decided on using since she escaped the circus grounds. There just a few feet before her was the soft but shaggy coat of a very familiar wolf.
Maeve peered at the animal, observing its sharp teeth glint in the moonlight. The wolf had a blood stained muzzle and a chuck of flesh gripped between his jaws. Those hard and dark eyes softened at the sight of the young fire breather. His gaze washed over Maeve as he took inventory of her well-being.
Good, he thought. No harm done.
The sudden cry of a madman sounded behind Maeve. She began turning to face the man, already knowing that she had reacted much too late to do anything but to look upon the face of her killer.
The man's knife came down fast, but a dark flash of movement pushed the man to the ground with a shout of agony. Maeve clutched at her face as her fingers felt a long gash from the corner of her right eye down to the edge of her mouth.
But as her eyes met the man's body, she noted that he wasn't moving anymore. The wolf had taken care of the nuisance.
The dark, shaggy dog came over to Maeve and whined slightly. His sad eyes met hers and did nothing else. As Maeve took a good moment to look deep into those dark irises, she couldn't help but feel as though they seemed more nymph-like rather than full wolf. They were familiar, and not just due to her friendship with the wolf, but as though she had seen them within someone else's face before.
The sting of the cut along Maeve's cheek jolted her out of her trance-like state. The pain was horrid to say the least. As the cut healed, she could almost feel the tendrils of flesh gripping the other side of the gash and pulling her skin together again. It was a weird feeling, painful but with a fuzzy pins and needles sensation.
The gun shots within the forest caught Maeve's attention and she quickly spun on her muddy heel. Whoever, or whatever, it was, something would need some help.
***
Thomas sneered down at Keelia. She had been backed up against a thick barked tree and never took her gaze off of the man that would deliver her death. She wasn't afraid. She had met so many wonderful people in the circus. Maghnus was such an amazing friend and without his and Tadhg's help she would have never mastered the tightrope.
She had seen her mother again after believing her to be dead. The very fact that her mother was alive and in the company of her previous family was fantastic to Keelia. Maghnus would be there to help her mother mourn for Keelia and he would always be there for her.
But there would be one thing that Keelia would regret.
"Since you are your mother's daughter, I will allow you to say a few last words before I end your life." Thomas stated. "It's the least I could do for your mother."
Keelia looked up defiantly into the eyes that this man had shared with her father. Those eyes that held such hate and pure revulsion couldn't have ever belonged to her father. Stephen Adams was a man of pride for his home and family. He respected all those that ever laid an eye upon his person. He was a man who was loved and held close to Keelia's heart. And this man – her uncle – had taken away such love like it was an ant at a picnic.
She wasn't going to do anything he wanted. Not now. Not ever.
Keelia adjusted her hands as she right herself. Her flimsy arms struggled to push up her exhausted body, but nevertheless, she stood straight and proud before Thomas. She stood as though she had just won a championship. As though she had just performed her tightrope act in front of her beautiful mother. Her head was high and her eyes were hard.
"Just do it," was Keelia's simple command.
Thomas' eyes were wide and his eyebrows reached up into his hairline. He swallowed, his mouth was quite dry. He had not expected this behaviour to come from such a spoilt brat. A child that no man had ever wanted to court. A child that had no purpose on this earth other than to make Thomas' plan all the more difficult to follow through with. He had expected her to beg.
Thomas soon regained his composure. "Then I shall do as the lady asks."
Thomas tightened his grip and cocked his gun, aiming it straight at Keelia's smug and insolent face. Her eyes never wavered. She never blinked even once before his finger began to put pressure upon the trigger.
Just at the last second, Keelia closed her eyes, not seeing a colourful blur dash out in front of her as a loud bang rung through the night air.
All was silent for a long moment.
Keelia didn't even breathe.
But when she opened her eyes, she saw a bloody mess upon her beige shirt. And on the ground, lying at her feet was a fatally wounded Maghnus.
Keelia kneeled down to him, adjusting his torso in her arm to make his fading gaze face her. Liquid crimson leaked out the corner of his mouth as he attempted a smile.
"I made it in time, didn't I?"
Keelia felt tears threatening to escape. "You did Maghnus. Thank you."
She had told a white lie, noting that Thomas was still standing next to them. His second bullet was already lined up and eager to blast out of the chamber.
"Your mother and Lorcan are coming." Maghnus coughed.
Keelia sniffed. "You're such a fool, Maghnus. Why would you do this?"
He grinned. "To save Kyna's daughter, I would do anything." His body trembled with his last remaining breaths.
The shuffle of tall wet grass sounded nearby, but Keelia refused to take her gaze off of her friend. These were his last moments, she be damned if she wasn't by his side.
Stella saw the scene before her and gasped, her hand reaching up to her chest. Lorcan followed closely behind, nothing but a narrowed gaze and fiery amber eyes could be noted as a change in his normally neutral expression.
However, before Lorcan could do anything, a wolf lunged from a distant bush and knocked Thomas to the ground, his gun tumbling out of his hand.
Lorcan recognised the wolf and gave him a slight nod. This was no time for praise. His good friend Maghnus was to be soon in the Night River.
Stella went to hover over her best friend's body, tears already falling onto Maghnus' blood soaked chest.
"No," she shook her head. "No!"
Keelia held onto both Maghnus and her mother as best she could. Maghnus had been her friend for a short while, but her mother had known the nymph all her life. She would need all the support her daughter could give.
Thomas stood and held onto his bloody hand, a couple of fingers were missing. "Come along now, Stella. It's time we return home." He snuck a glance at those around him, feeling his stomach drop.
Stella stood and glared at the man she once called brother. She picked up the gun off the ground and aimed the loaded chamber at his head.
She had had enough of this man's mind games and torture treatments. She had enough of him harming her family. She had enough of Thomas Adams altogether.
Lorcan approached Stella and laid a hand on her shoulder and said lightly, "Are you sure you want his blood on your hands?"
Stella shrugged Lorcan's hand off of her. "I want to be the one to take everything away from him, just as he did to me and my daughter."
Lorcan backed away. If he had learned anything from his sister, it was not to doubt the wrath of a woman scorned. Stella would do as she pleased, just as she always did when they were younger.
"Thomas," Stella began, "burn in hell."
She pulled the trigger.
Thomas' body slumped to the ground as the hole in his forehead leaked a flowing stream of blood.
Lorcan glanced to the wolf and nodded. "Thank you, Phelan. I owe you so much."
Maeve, who had been standing off to the side and watching the scene unfold before her, raised her brows in shock. Did Lorcan just say Phelan? Was Phelan really the shaggy wolf she had grown accustomed to? If so, then he would already know all her inner most secrets. She instantly blushed.
But her train of thought was derailed as the sounds of sobs reached her ears. Keelia and Stella were bent over Maghnus' body as he said his last words.
"Do be careful, my star," Maghnus whispered, and then glanced to Keelia, "You too, little dancer."
Maghnus' eyes then closed for the very last time.