The Legion of 5 by Morgan Blayde

Author:Morgan Blayde [Blayde, Morgan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-12-15T07:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-ONE

“Letting go of good places

is part of growing up too fast.”

—Caine Deathwalker

Next morning, my negligent kidnapers slept in. The fire had died. Cold, so I threw a blanket over me and headed down the rope ladder. The ladder swung freely as I descended. On the ground, I found the small kids from Wolves’ Lair out chasing each other with mock-growls and laughter. Two of them had branches, engaged in swordplay. A few more were in wolf-cub form.

Some of the older teens in animal skins carried large jars strapped to their backs, hauling water in from a nearby spring. The community guards were posted but the atmosphere was light. No one seemed too concerned about the Storm Court sending out more busybodies.

There was a feel here of the home I’d never really known. I’d grown comfortable with Lauphram, but the clan itself was still a bad fit. A part of me wanted to stay here forever. The rest feared that desire. It was a new kind of fear and I hated it.

The rippling blackberry vines let the pack members come and go from the hill caves, but blocked my way. I taught them a lesson by picking a handful of berries for breakfast. They endured this stoically.

Mira approached with a smile. She had the bag with the Bird Banger, cartridges, and primer nuggets. “Good morning, young Deathwalker.”

“Good morning, Mira.”

“Come join me for a walk.”

“Sure.”

We took the main trail into the forest. It seemed to me that it went new directions this morning, as if the trail itself were taking a stroll, looking for a change of scenery. Well, that was consistent with Fairy, a place where the land has a soul and mind of its own.

Silent, Mira moved at my side, relaxed, eyes picking up the motion of hopping birds and squirrels flicking their bushy tails. She stopped me with a hand when a grunting creature appeared ahead of us on a trail crossing ours. Easily two-hundred pounds, it had mean little eyes, tusks, rudimentary horns, and a creamy blue pelt with black leopard spots.

The fey version of a wild pig.

It stared but didn’t seem inclined to pick a fight.

That didn’t stop Mira from pointing the Bird Banger. I’d set it up for firing two of the screamer cartridges.

“Maybe you want to pick on a rabbit instead,” I said. “I hear boars can be vicious.”

Mira slanted me a look and a grin. “But I have you to protect me, Young Deathwalker.”

“Still…”

She fired twice, turned, and ran.

I watched the comets from her handgun wiggle down the path and explode near the boar. It squealed in fury and charged us. I went plunging after Mira. She was way ahead, hauling ass.

Damn.

I remembered something the Old Man had once said: You don’t have to be faster than the lion to escape with your life; just faster than at least one of the other hunters.

Apparently, Mira knew that, too. Being a shifter, she was very fast, even in human form. I closed the gap, slowly. At least we weren’t far from the village.

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