Marsheila Rockwell - Legacy of the Wolves

She could cast a quick spell to make sure she left no trace of her passage back to Andri and the dwarf-something she should have thought to do earlier, though she’d had no reason to suspect they would be followed-but the older tracks would still be there. She had nothing she could use to obscure the tracks herself, but … there. A whispered word revealed the presence of rats-even in a seemingly dead city, the clever scavengers would find a way to survive, and thrive. After a few moments of concentration, she discerned that there were at least a dozen of the sly creatures in the gatehouse alone, and several dozen more spread out in the basements of the ruined buildings nearest the gate. She walked toward the closest of these until she knew her voice could be heard, and then she called out to the rats, chittering at them in their own strange language, cajoling them with promises of fruit and bread if they would come to her aid.

At first, nothing happened. Then the blackened debris in front of her seemed to shift and slide, as if it were collectively heaving itself up to shamble toward her. Irulan felt a moment of fear before she realized it was the rats-hundreds of them, not dozens-heeding her call.

She singled out a large gray one in the front of the teeming mass.

I do not have food enough for all your people, rat-brother .

The rat’s nose twitched, and its red eyes gleamed. The squeaks and chitters, both in front and behind her now, subsided as her chosen envoy replied.

Those who cannot eat will be eaten, wolf-sister. It is the way .

She nodded. It was, indeed.

I travel with three horses, a man, and a dwarf. I need you to erase all evidence of our passing, so that we may not be followed .

The rat regarded her with beady eyes before nodding its head once in a gesture it knew she would recognize.

We have done this for the wolf-brother. We will do this for you .

Wolf-brother?

Quillion.

But if he could teleport, why did he need the rats to hide his tracks? Perhaps, she thought, the spell required a focus his addled mind was no longer truly capable of, and transported him to the gates or the Garden District, instead of to his lair.

Where might I find the wolf-brother? I wish to pay my respects .

The rat clicked its teeth at her.

The wolf-brother sleeps beneath the blue waves and the black ships .

Blue waves and black ships? Was Quillion lairing in the ruined docks down on the Arrow? That hadn’t been one of the places Ostra’s shifters had marked on the maps.

Can you show me?

The clicking became more pronounced. The rat was getting angry.

We do not wish to die .

Apparently, humans weren’t the only things Quillion liked to eat.

Irulan wished she could ask more questions, but the creature’s growing impatience was obvious. So she simply nodded her thanks. Perhaps Andri or Greddark would be able to puzzle out this choice bit of information later. But first she had to get it to them.

She slung her bow over her shoulder and began an easy lope back towards Artificer’s Avenue and the circular junction. Behind her, the rats swarmed over the road, their long, segmented tales sweeping over the dirt and erasing all the tracks-including their own-as if they had never existed.

At the entrance to the junction, she had the rats wait while she hurried over to speak with Andri and Greddark, who were understandably unsettled to find her at the head of a horde of vermin.

“You brought friends?” the dwarf asked when she got close.

Irulan ignored him. “I need your food,” she said to Andri.

“What? All of it?”

“Just the fruit, vegetables, and bread.”

“That is all of it,” Greddark muttered.

“But that will only leave us with jerky, and oats for the horses,” Andri protested.

“We can resupply in Olath,” Irulan said impatiently. “Just hurry up. They’re hungry, and there’s enough of them they could eat us if they decided to.”

“And why are we feeding the local rat population?” Greddark asked, fishing his own supplies out of his pack and handing them over to Irulan reluctantly.

“Because they’re going to make sure your friend from House Medani doesn’t sneak back to bother us again,” Irulan gave the dwarf a dark look. Then she allowed herself a triumphant grin. “And because they told us where to find Quillion.”

“Beneath the blue waves and black ships?” Greddark asked, flicking his reins. “Sounds like the docks to me.”

Irulan had cast her spell to keep them and the horses from making any tracks, and then they had exited the junction after leaving their rations in the dry fountain basin. They were trying to put some distance between themselves and the squealing of rats feasting on fresh food-including meat, as they tore one another apart to get to the fruit and bread.

Eat or be eaten, indeed.

“I thought of that, but the docks aren’t marked,” Irulan said, astride her own horse now. The nag still fought her. She might be able to calm anything from an angry bear to a host of hungry rats, but no horse had ever responded to her touch or her magic. Flame, but she hated the things, and the need to ride them. Why couldn’t she have been born a halfling? Fastieths had to be easier to handle.

“I don’t think they meant the docks,” Andri said. He looked over at the dwarf. “Let me see the maps again.”

Greddark reined in his horse and handed the maps over, watching Andri with interest. After a few sharp tugs on her own reins, Irulan’s mount followed suit.

Andri pointed to the first spot marked on the map, the large park to which they were heading.

“See this district that backs up to the park? It was known as the Crown District, because of all the nobles who lived there. What if Quillion isn’t lairing in the park, but in one of these estates?”

“So the blue waves and black ships are some sort of family crest?” Irulan asked. That would make sense-since most shifters she knew didn’t care much for any body of water they couldn’t cross under their own power, she would be surprised to find a lycanthrope choosing to lair virtually on the banks of the Sound. Then again, Quillion was supposed to be crazy.

“Yes,” said Andri.

That was abrupt.

“You recognize it?” Greddark asked, picking up on the brevity of the answer.

The paladin looked uncomfortable.

“I believe it is the device used by the Stalsun family. The entire family died in the invasion of Shadukar, all save one-Lady Hathia Stalsun, who now resides in Flamekeep.”

“You know her?” Greddark pressed, his curiosity clearly piqued.

Andri did seem to have a lot of information about her.

“I know of her,” the paladin replied, and something in his tone made Irulan wonder just how well-acquainted he and the Lady Stalsun actually were. Then she decided she probably didn’t really want to know.

“Well, how are we going to figure out which estate belonged to the Stalsuns?” she asked, turning her attention back to the map. “There must be at least twenty properties near the park alone, and that doesn’t include the rest of the Crown District. We can’t possibly search them all.”

“We don’t have to.”

Both Irulan and Andri looked at the dwarf, who was smiling.

“Why not?” Irulan demanded, not liking the inquisitive’s smug expression.

“Your rat friends gave me the idea,” he replied. “Look what they were willing to do for food that was several days away from fresh, and then again what happened when they turned on each other to get that food-a feeding frenzy, driven by the scent of new blood. Of rat blood.”