Wolfpack by Rem Wigmore

Author:Rem Wigmore [Wigmore, Rem]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781734360394
Publisher: Queen of Swords Press

Chapter Ten

Leader,

I keep an eye on the Truest Church, but they’re the opposite of energy criminals: their beliefs emphasise honouring the Earth, even if it is through the lens of their deity. A dangerous organisation to be sure, but if hurting children in the course of making sure they’re raised right is an offence worthy of the Order of the Wild, I should have come after myself years ago, eh?

- From Luga’s journal

* * *

Bright scowled down at the readout device, which she’d designed to look like a cat, because she’d been up four days in a row at the time and it seemed funny.

The cat opened its mechanical mouth and gave another plaintive meow, eyes still flashing the same data.

It had to be Orfeus. That was the problem. None of the boring Elders in the grove who had Blood in their bloodlines had anywhere near that high a mechanical trace in it. This was almost too much of a mechanical trace even for Orfeus, not the composition her Blood should have had right now. Maybe she’d been messing around with it again.

Bright folded up the readout-cat and got on the bike again, managing to power it up after a few moments. She kept close to the ground because she wasn’t experienced enough with these things to risk going up too high when that could lead to falling and getting smushed to a pulp. She had her Blood, but it didn’t activate on its own. Bright was smart, but what if she wasn’t fast enough?

Her mind flashed the images in front of her: what it might look like if she fell, the crushed and mangled remnants of her body. Maybe the handlebars would go right through her head.

Bright leaned forward, going just a bit faster. Not too fast. She couldn’t outrun intrusive thoughts.

Cuddling with Em might do it, or working long enough she got exhausted, but out here there was too much to look at and her mind buzzed restlessly.

Who was that?

Someone else was following the same rough path she was. Almost like they were following the same person, but that wasn’t possible. Surely not even Orfeus would have two discrete organisations of assassins after her in one lifetime.

Then again.

Bright veered down and came to a stop in front of the stranger, or more of a crash, really, bike skidding through the dirt for several metres. She hauled herself up with a grimace. Her knees were scraped and would be bloodied if she’d still been in shorts. A reluctant victory for wearing pants.

She waved. “Hi!” she said and grinned. Bright didn’t have much natural charm, but she could try.

The stranger was tall, sturdy-shouldered, with brown hair braided back using what looked like plastic beads. Aside from the plastic, their clothes were very plain, brown and tough. There was a healthy amount of dirt on their hands and face.

“Hail,” they said slowly.

Charm didn’t seem to be working. Bright grinned even bigger. “I’m Brightspark, you can call me Bright. Oh, she and her.

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