Wolf pack, p.23
Wolf Pack, page 23
Her scowl softened, and her gaze turned calculating.
“I’ll visit the northwest camp this afternoon and send wine for Lammas.” The young king put his knuckles on the table. “Maybe tonight’s celebration should be pared down in light of tomorrow’s departure.”
Darius brightened.
“Absolutely not.” Forsyth cut a swift hand through the air. “Our celebration tonight must continue as usual.”
It was Darius’s turn to scowl.
“We must show the people that we are not afraid of the Draco Slangs.”
Slangs? Really? Ferth fought the urge to lean against the wall and close his eyes entirely.
“Elysium will celebrate Lammas as we always have.” Forsyth set her jaw, ready for a fight. If only she would point some of that stubbornness toward the real enemy.
Abner wilted under her gaze. “Fine.” He sighed. “I’ll see you both tonight.”
Ferth followed behind Darius, who gave way at the door as Forsyth barreled past. In the hall, she whirled around. Her belly nearly pressed against Darius’s sword hilt. “Don’t get any ideas about turning that army around and taking the crown on your way back.”
Darius frowned. He looked down his straight nose at the red-faced raja. “The thought would never cross my mind. It concerns me that it has crossed yours.”
She sniffed, jerked around, and waddled away.
Darius’s jaw twitched and his brow furrowed.
Forsyth certainly had visions of increasing her power and prestige, but Ferth found he couldn’t rise to concern over it. She wasn’t scary like the Draco officers at Shi Castle. Her insubordination felt petty. Despite her assertive girth, she seemed insignificant.
He hoped he wasn’t underestimating her.
He stayed respectfully quiet as he trailed the worried Darius through the castle. Flowers, streamers, and ribbons hung in blues and gold. Enticing smells of baking sugar and roasting meats tempted him to linger. He was beginning to look forward to tonight’s party. Outside, they crossed the gardens to Darius’s estate.
Angeline greeted them at the front door. “Come, boys.”
Her voice seemed to draw Darius back to this world. She led them to the anteroom of the master suite. With a flourish, she pointed to the fabric spread over the couch. Ferth wasn’t sure what he was looking at. Swaths of fuchsia, silver, and black lay in the shape of a body.
“A bit bold for our Ferth, here. Don’t you think?” Darius said.
“With his body, he’ll look splendid. It’s the latest fashion.” She sent them an encouraging smile. “Try it on.” She handed Ferth the pants and shirt and shooed him into the dressing room.
He sighed as he stripped. The shiny black pants were tight, hugging his thighs and calves. The silky shirt tickled his healing scabs. It didn’t close. The silver fabric hung open in front, revealing tan skin and white scars. He held it closed, hiding his Draco brand. He forced a smile and stepped out.
Darius sat in a chair and stared out the window.
Angeline instructed the woman, Trissha, to wrap him in swaths of fuchsia. Nimble fingers grazed his skin as she opened his shirt six inches. Not quite wide enough to reveal his heritage. He exhaled. She tied purplish-red ribbon impossibly tight around his ribs and waist, leaving crisscrossing windows of skin visible on his chest and abs. Smaller fuchsia ribbons wrapped his biceps and wrists. She smiled coyly and pointed to the full-length mirror.
I hate it. I hate it. I’m not wearing this anywhere.
“Perfection.” Angeline clapped her hands.
Darius turned from the window and his thoughts. He took one look at Ferth’s stricken face and doubled over in laughter.
His wife’s elegant face fell. “What? What is it?”
“It’s just that he’s a farm boy, dear.”
“Not tonight. Tonight, he is a member of my household. He’ll sit with us, and he’ll wear the latest fashion.” She turned to Ferth. “Won’t you?”
His refusal caught in his throat. He glanced at the mirror. He was wrapped up like a pompous present. “I’ve never seen an outfit like this,” he said weakly. All bright colors and exposition. Thirro would love it.
“You look wonderful. All the ladies will swoon.”
“I shouldn’t dress above my rank. I’ll wear the suit I wore to dinner.”
“To Lammas at the castle?” She looked aghast. “You will do no such thing. I’ll send Trissha to help you dress properly in three hours.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Trissha unwrapped him, and he darted into the dressing room to change back into his simple, comfortable shirt and pants.
Forty-two - Infiltrating
THIRRO
Jade locked the door behind her. “It reeks in here.” She surveyed the cramped room. Dracos lay in various states of consciousness over the bed and floor. Her gaze lingered on Gavriel, lounging against the wall. Dara drew her knife slowly over a whetstone—she’d nicked the tip of her blade while disposing of the stable boy.
“What did you find out?” Thirro asked. The hours he’d spend cooped up while she frolicked through the city had put him in a sour mood.
She dropped a bundle of emerald fabric on the floor, took off her cloak, and ran her hands across her furry brown scalp. She pulled out a scroll and unrolled it. “To the esteemed Lady Lucus. Blah blah Lammas. You are invited to dine and dance with the esteemed King Abner and his royal rajas. Blah de blah. Please present this invitation at the Lilac Ballroom. Et cetera.” Jade rolled the invitation back up and grinned.
Thirro frowned.
Her frivolity died. Her next words were crisp—all business. “There are four entertainment troupes. Two are in full costume. Our best chance is the theatrical group. They have several actors dressing up as beasts for a play they will be performing during a break in the dancing.”
Thirro beamed. “It’s perfect.”
“It’s later in the evening. You will have to maintain your guise until you can come out with the troupe.”
“Doesn’t matter. We won’t be performing.” He turned away from her. “Pull out the costumes.”
Gasson levered up from the floor and pulled one of the bags he’d carried from Skotar to the center of the room. Out came masks, gloves, fabrics, and paints.
“The performers are entering the castle through the south wing,” Jade said. “I don’t think the guards will know that you aren’t part of the show, but the performers will.”
“Once we are in the castle”—Thirro looked over the beaked mask in his hand—“you will meet us and lead us to where we can see and not be seen.”
Jade grimaced.
“Are you not up to the task?” He took satisfaction in the thought, despite the mission.
“I am.” Her brows lowered. “But it is more heavily guarded than I expected. Only four of us should go. You will be Dara’s wings, and Gavriel will be mine.”
Thirro nodded, happy to be leaving some of his cumbersome crew behind. “Dan, you will make sure the wagon is ready to go and that we have provisions for the return journey.”
Dan looked about to protest.
“You will take care of this inn.”
Glossy eyes sparkled at the implication. “Yes, sir.”
With a piece of charcoal, Jade drew a simple map. “Let’s plan on meeting here.” She pointed to an area inside the south wing. “Don’t go wandering around the castle.”
Forty-three - Peacock
FERTH
Ferth was back in the pink silk. Trissha left him with instructions to meet Darius and Angeline at the front door.
In his room, Ferth stood with his back to the mirror. He couldn’t face his reflection. He braced himself. “You can come out.”
Rom and Lyko padded out of the bathroom. They stopped midstride. Narrow jaws dropped. Raucous laughter echoed painfully through Ferth’s skull.
“You look like a peacock,” Lyko said.
“I feel like one.”
“Dara would have fun unwrapping you,” Rom said.
Is that what was bothering him? Draco Sang loved to stand out, flaunt their bodies. He had expected the humans to be different. He had wanted the humans to be different.
What would the old Ferth—the Draco captain—have done? He turned to his human face in the mirror. He wouldn’t have worn this. He would have ripped the fuchsia ribbon to shreds with his own claws. He would have marched into that ball wearing only his scars and stripes for a shirt. And he would have been feared and respected for it.
He fingered the silky sash, considering. The temptation was almost too much, but in the end, he dropped the silk. He couldn’t do it. Not when he thought of the consequences. He needed an army to protect his mother, Suza, and himself. For now, he had to play the idiot in pink.
“Have I traded one tyrant for another?”
“I wouldn’t compare Angeline to Laconius,” Rom said.
Ferth smiled at the thought of Angeline talking down her nose at the chief. His face fell. Laconius would destroy her. His father wouldn’t grovel to humans. He would never bend his will or his pride to a weak human’s whims.
And Laconius wanted his son dead. Ferth straightened. “Tomorrow I march north at the head of an army. Who cares what I look like at tonight’s ball?”
“We’re coming with you,” Lyko said.
“I wish you could.”
“We’re coming,” Rom said.
“Tomorrow the hiding will end. Tomorrow we will go north together.” To Suza. They would follow the tug deep inside that called them home.
“If you leave us locked in here, we will destroy this room,” Lyko said.
Ferth might have called Rom’s bluff, but not Lyko’s. He let them out the back door and into the gardens before he marched down the hall.
Darius wore all black under a long velvet red cloak. He looked elegant and regal. Like a falcon, not like a peacock. Angeline’s red dress matched her husband’s cloak. Rubies sparkled in her hair, braided into a crown. A dozen other people Ferth recognized from the previous dinner party stood with them. Three of the young gentlemen wore outfits like Ferth’s, with patches of skin showing. Two wore brightly colored suits. One wore a robe-like dress that was worse than Ferth’s outfit.
Tamaria stepped forward, adoration in her eyes. “Commander Ferth. Good evening.”
She wore the same fuchsia swathes of silk wrapped around her curves. Slivers of ribs, breasts, and thighs peeked through gaps in the fabric. Ferth’s blood warmed against his will. “A pleasure to see you again.”
She lowered her chin and smiled, peering up at him through thick lashes.
Ferth looked away. He refused to be seduced, no matter how tempting. He belonged to Suza.
Forty-four - Party
THIRRO
Jade adjusted long cream gloves over her furry hands and arms. She wore an emerald gown that covered every inch up to her neck. Thirro knew she’d left her boots and pants on underneath. Cream silk wrapped her head and pointed ears. The only skin showing was her lovely, nearly human face. A black baldric disguised as a corset cinched her already tiny waist. She slipped four knives into the ribbing. Thirro tried not to stare as she applied red paint to her already dark lips and kohl to the black outlining her eyes.
I hate her.
Jade handed Dara her bow and quiver. “Don’t forget these.”
“Good luck in there,” Dara said.
“We’ll see you soon, soldier.” Thirro folded his arms.
“Yes, sir.” Jade’s lips curved up on one side.
She wouldn’t be smiling by the end of the night—Thirro would make sure of it.
Gavriel bent down. His long fingers gripped her hips as he lifted Jade off the ground. “Be safe.” Their lips met. His hands roamed.
Heat spiraled down Thirro’s core. “She needs to go.” His voice was hard. Angry, not jealous.
Gavriel pulled away. Red smeared his lips. He gently set her down. Jade’s cheeks flushed as she fixed her rouge, then she slipped out.
“Are you ready to focus on the mission?” Thirro’s words came out edged with venom.
“I’m ready and focused.” Gavriel grinned like an idiot.
Thirro jerked his attention to his own preparations.
Dara stepped forward and pointed to his costume. “I’ll help you get it on.”
His temper calmed as her fingers worked open his buttons. She held out a loose tunic with feathers sewn over it. He couldn’t just bare his own feathery chest. He had to wear a costume of feathers—be dressed up as a bird, not actually be a bird. Dan handed him a helmet with a large beaked face-mask. Gavriel put on a matching costume. Dara wore fox furs and a mask. She rolled the weapons in a leather blanket and put them in a musician’s case.
Time to party.
Forty-five - Embarrassment
FERTH
Hundreds of people clogged the halls and filled the ballroom. Ferth suffered through an endless line of introductions before he abandoned Tamaria with a group of chatting young people. He weaved over to the banquet tables and mounded food on a silvery plate.
“Excuse me, my lord.” Ferth turned to face an anxious servant. “It would be our pleasure to serve you.”
Ferth glanced around. The food was untouched—before he had disturbed it. No one else had a plate.
Tamaria looked at him across the room, her eyes wide in horror.
He sighed and handed his dinner over. The servant looked relieved and slightly embarrassed as he accepted the loaded plate.
Ferth picked up a strawberry from the top and popped it in his mouth. “When might I look forward to such an event?”
“The king will announce dinner. Shouldn’t be too long.” The servant whirled around and darted away.
But it was too long. He’d been introduced to twenty-six people before King Abner announced dinner.
On the outside, Ferth looked like he belonged. On the inside, he was far away. He was with Suza in his barracks at Shi Castle. He was with Keturah in the basement of the laundry. He even thought he saw Jade’s face on one of the women. He blinked, and she was gone. What would it be like to see her teasing smile again? She would spit on your humanness. You’re not her friend anymore. You’re her enemy.
He wished he could have gone with his mother to her quiet Lammas party at Elssa’s house. He wished he could go home. He wished he had a home.
“Ferth.” He jerked out of his daydreams and focused on his mother’s face. She wore a yellow dress, nothing fancy like Angeline’s, but she was beautiful. He was so grateful to see her friendly face.
“I thought you were at Elssa’s.”
“Elssa will be here later. You leave tomorrow. I couldn’t miss out on any precious time with you. I’ve just got to run something to Darius’s suite for him, and then I’ll be right back.” She looked suddenly shy. “Then would you dance with your old lady?”
“I’m not very good.” He grinned. “But I’d love to.” And he meant it.
Forty-six - Guilty
JADE
Jade was ushered into a brilliant ballroom along with a group of guests. Guards dotted the room. They mingled with the brightly clad humans. She soaked in the splendor for a heartbeat before stealing into the dimly lit hallways. She needed to find a way up to the balcony. She tried to become one with the shadows as she patrolled the halls of the human castle.
“May I help you?” The woman wore a yellow dress that brought out the bright gold of her eyes. She was beautiful … and strangely familiar.
Jade’s fingers trailed the handle of a knife in her corset. “I’ve gotten turned around.” And if the woman would turn around, Jade wouldn’t have to see the terrible expression that would overtake her face when Jade’s blade sunk deep.
“It happens to me all the time.” A soft smile parted wide lips.
Jade’s hand froze on her weapon at the woman’s trusting expression. Again that sense of familiarity rocked her.
“I like your head scarf. I don’t see that much here, but when I lived in the desert, people covered their heads all the time. Helped with the sun, and you didn’t have to fix your hair.” She gave Jade a conspiratorial grin.
“Yes. No one wants to see my hair at the moment.”
“You’d get along with my son. He’d much prefer to wear his hair in a wild mane.” She stopped talking, her eyes widening. “Excuse me if that came out wrong. You look lovely tonight. May I escort you back to the party?”
Jade dropped her fingers, glad she didn’t have to kill this one … yet. She let the human lead her back toward the music and lights. The woman took Jade past a narrow spiral staircase. Just what she was looking for.
“Enjoy yourself tonight. Happy Lammas.”
“Thank you,” Jade said.
The moment after the woman sank into shadow, Jade followed. In seconds she was darting up the stairs. The stone steps opened to a narrow balcony overlooking the glittering ballroom. She stilled. A guard watched the scene below. He stood at full attention. She tiptoed back down the steps. She would have to kill him when it was time. She didn’t allow one sliver of regret or remorse hack through the walls she’d built around her heart.
Forty-seven - Impersonating
THIRRO
The feather vest chafed. His breath steamed the helmet, leaving his cheeks unpleasantly moist.
“I’ll do the talking,” Thirro said.
Dara nodded. Gavriel didn’t acknowledge the command. He was really grating on Thirro’s nerves.
The performers they were impersonating had just entered the castle. Dara and Gavriel followed Thirro up the stone stairs. Thirro stepped carefully; he wasn’t used to wearing shoes over his taloned feet. They didn’t fit well.
