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Edouard was the least of our worries as the werewolves circled in closer to us. The emperor and his entourage hurried to our sides just as the werewolves lunged forward with talons splayed out. Cal blasted out a gust of air that knocked a few of the wolves about, but some of the beast men clung to the ground and reached our position. Edouard drew his sword and Ben revealed his talons.
The sight of the claws made Edouard’s mouth hang open. The commander snapped his jaws shut and glared at Ben. “You! You’re-”
“No time for accusations, Commander!” Cal scolded him as he dodged a blow by a heavy werewolf.
Edouard scowled but leapt into the fray. Even Fysan flew out of the house and latched his talons onto the head of one of the wolves, sending the creature quipping off into the woods.
In the fray, I didn’t notice the pale shadow creep up on me as silent as a ghost. That is, until their cold hands gripped my wrists from behind and wrenched my arms behind my back. My back was pressed against the cold chest that belonged to Werd and his heavy breathing wafted over my ear.
“I. . .I’m so sorry,” he whispered even as I felt the life energy be drained out of me.
“Werd!” The shout came from Dreda as she vaulted over a fallen werewolf and landed a few feet away. Her pained eyes searched Werd’s face. “Whatever has a hold of you, you can fight it, Werd! Fight it!”
The magic that drained my life force paused and my captor froze. His hands shook and his breathing became more ragged.
“That’s it, Werd!” Dreda encouraged as she opened her arms and took a step toward us. “Please, my love. Please come back to me.”
Werd jerked back and released me. I stumbled forward into the waiting arms of Cal as Dreda flew past us. She caught Werd as he crumpled to the ground and lay him in her lap.
Cal had a bittersweet smile on his lips as he watched them. “She found her fairy tale ending, after all.”
I envied their happiness as the battle raged on around them. Four werewolves lunged at us and Cal threw up his arms on either side of him. Waves of air blasted outward and struck our attackers in the stomach, knocking them backward several yards. One of the unharmed wolves swiped his claw at me. I raised my left arm and he sliced through the canister. Apparently, Hantverk’s work could withstand practically anything as the claws failed to slice open the leather. The straps on the front, however, were less sturdy and were cut through.
The flute slid out but I managed to catch it in my other hand. The werewolf took another swipe at me but I grasped the flute in both hands and swung it like a bat. Much was my joy when the flute extended into its broom form and the hard handle hit the unprepared werewolf on the side of his face. The force spun the wolf in a circle before he crumpled to the ground in a heap of wet fur.
The torrential downpour didn’t stop our foes from putting up a good fight, and we were hard-pressed to fend off so many. I couldn’t help but notice that they were all very burly and especially hairy. My observations would have to wait, however, when another four rushed us.
I slipped the broom between my legs and caught Cal’s eyes. “Hop on!”
He flung away two of our enemies before he hopped on behind me. I pulled the broom up and flew us far out of reach of the wolves, though they hopped their best to catch hold of the broomstick. Unfortunately, one of them managed to throw a rock at the bundle of sticks at the rear and the force of the blow knocked us in a tailspin. Our high altitude meant we were flung away into the trees.
I tried my best to pull up, but in my panic and inexperience I must have touched the gas pedal because we rocketed forward through the trees.
“Stop, you stupid broom!” I shouted as I throttled the handle. “Stop!”
The broom did as commanded but so abruptly that Cal and I were flung over the handle. We crashed into the brush and I struck a tree. Cal fell somewhere around me, but I was so dazed I couldn’t see straight.
A shadow fell over me and a pair of golden eyes stared out from the shadows. That was the last I knew before I lost consciousness.
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
I awoke sometime laterwith a hell of a headache and the stench of dirty fur in my nostrils. My back rubbed against something hard and my hands and feet wouldn’t move properly. A quick inspection of my person told me that my limbs had been bound by a tight, thick rope. The rope that bound my hands was also tied around a post.
I also wasn’t the only one strapped to the wood.
“Good evening, Millie,” came the bittersweet greeting from the emperor.
I twisted around and saw that Cal was also stuck to the post, but he had a pair of heavy manacles around his wrists. “Evening?”
He lifted his eyes upward and nodded. “Or so I believe. It’s difficult to decipher through the thick canvas.”
I noticed what he meant. We had been bound to a stack in the ground within a large leather tent. The entrance was a simple flap that was heavy enough to block out any chance of seeing our surroundings.
I heard voices beyond the walls and their gruff laughter didn’t give me any comfort. “Any idea where we were?”
A dark shadow fell on his brow. “The camp of the mountain werewolves. Gasric has apparently betrayed Eall and plans to destroy the truce.”
A horrible thought struck me and my face fell. “How?”
