There are candles everywhere and bowls of incense. The smell of pungent herbs is so strong it stings my nose. I breathe through my mouth and search through the smoke. Fireworks still blast in the distance. Water trickles. Ahead of me is the silver plate of the freezing cold pool. There’s a group of figures huddled near the waterfall. A bunch of acolytes dressed in skimpy white shifts.
“Liora?” I call, when one of the figures breaks and runs towards me. I recognize her narrow face a second before her face splits into a snarl.
Vera.
Chapter Twenty
Aster
Vera flies at me, her fangs elongating in her rat-like face.
I return her snarl, bracing for her attack, when a white shape flies out of the darkness and slams into Vera, knocking her to the ground a few feet from me.
It’s Liora, wearing her white ritual shift. She straddles Vera, pinning the younger wolf and rearing back, raising both hands over her head. She’s holding a large rock. Without hesitation, she slams it onto Vera’s head, and the downed wolf goes limp. She bludgeons her a second time. Then a third.
By the time I find my voice, Liora is on her feet. “I knew you’d come,” she says to me then signals to the acolytes. Two of them cringe back, looking cold in their wet garments. Liora must have sent them into the water to be “purified” already.
“Girls,” Liora signs and speaks in a calm voice. “It’s time.”
What?
One acolyte breaks from the pack. “Seeress?” Oriana says to me.
Pain lances my chest, and I flinch. “Just Aster. We’re here to help.”
Oriana freezes as Noah approaches us.
“This is your brother,” I say. Liora is busy herding the frightened young woman forward.
“We’re getting them all out. Now.” Liora’s eyes flash bright as she gives us the order. She squares off with Noah, a determined set to her shoulders.
Noah looks like he wants to protest, but he backs down. I don’t know how we’re going to sneak back to safety with six young women in bright white garments, but Liora isn’t going to take no for an answer.
Strength, my wolf whispers. Liora has the strength of a mother. The Warden didn't beat it out of her.
Shift, Liora signals the young women, her hand drawing the shape of a wolf’s snout in front of her face. Oriana immediately strips out of the skimpy garment and calls her wolf. Four of the acolytes follow suit, but one sniffles and shakes her head, trembling.
OK, Liora signs. She must have been teaching them sign language, so they could communicate silently. I wish she’d taught it to me growing up, but I’m picking it up fast. She puts her arm around the girl who’s having trouble changing into her wolf, comforting her.
She signs to the rest of them to go, or maybe to follow, her two index fingers making an arc toward Noah.
He beckons to them and leads the five female wolves back into the bathhouse.
I bring up the rear, hovering behind Liora and the young girl she’s helping. Tingles run down my arms, like mini lightning bolts of adrenaline. I want to run, or fight, or scream, but I make myself hold back and focus on Liora’s murmurs to the frightened girl.
“It’ll be okay. My son is here. He’s here to save you.”
“What about the Warden?” the girl warbles.
“Shhh, child, it’ll be all right. Fate has another plan for you.”
I hope she’s right. I have a hard knot in the pit of my belly. The scent of ritual incense clogs my nose, reminding me of all the times I stood with Oma overseeing a rite. It makes me want to puke.
Ahead of me in the gloom, Noah has gathered all the young wolves around him at the bathhouse door. He leans forward enough, so the moonlight gilds his hair. Then he signals us to wait while he scouts ahead.
I crouch with the others in the bathhouse, gritting my teeth. Pressure builds along my sides, like a psychic vise threatening to clamp me and keep me still.
The three guards that Noah took out are in the bathhouse, tied and gagged. He must have taken the time to do that when I was inside, watching Liora deal with Vera. They’re starting to rouse and tug on their binds.
