“Pascal.”
5
I winced as another flag went up.
“That’s six hundred,” Pascal murmured.
From the high observation tower in the middle of Lake Thana, I watched the annihilation of our tribe in Water. The playing field was on a part of the lake tucked behind the hill where Herc’s will was read.
“Six hundred and one,” she said.
Ugh.Embarrassing.
You came here to learn.But still. Bet Sascha was having a fucking laugh over this. And his pack. Cheeks burning, I studied the surface below. The water was clear and with the calm evening, visibility was easy.
The Luthers used rope against us to great effect in this grid. My stewards had oxygen tanks, and the Luthers—stronger and faster swimmers—merely trussed up our players, safe in the knowledge they could breathe for the duration of the game.
Cliffs lined a small part of the lake’s perimeter. The stewards stationed there were safe, and they could fire at any werewolves within range. Of which there’d been a paltry number.
Problem one: The cliff couldn’t fit one thousand stewards. The battle had to occur in the water. Our weakness there in comparison to the Luthers was undeniable. The equipment needed to give us much-needed speed was horrendously expensive.
Herc had a Water savings account. I’d traced the equipment bought over the last two years. He didn’t choose Water because he wanted some defence when they eventually came here again, but that shit was costly.
Problem two: Our method of communication didn’t work here. Once my stewards slipped under the surface, they were on their own, so our plan couldn’t be adapted.
“Six hundred and two,” Pascal said.
She murmured, “Six hundred and three,” a second later.
Fuckers.
We were literally sitting ducks. I couldseethe Luthers converging on groups of us but had no way to warn my units.
The werewolves moved from one area of the lake to another with clear direction. They’d altered in response to our strategy too. Sascha had to be guiding them somehow. The wolves could talk underwater. There was no way they could be in sync otherwise, but we’d put frequency generators underwater that should block their ability to hear.
A puzzle.
That I intended to solve.
“Do they always do the same thing?” I asked Pascal, who was frantically tapping on her tablet.
Looking at her, a person would never guess this woman knew far more than she let on. Pascal had known about the will change. She’d been there when Murphy died.
My grandson was an expert rock-climber, Margaret had said.
That’s why the Freys hadn’t liked Herc. They believed he killed Murphy. Even for stealing me, his eldest daughter, could Herc have done such a thing?
Sure, I’d seen him attempt to kill a werewolf. He was capable of the act against a Luther, but not against humans.
And even if he was, Murphy was Herc’s best chance of finding me again. Yet he’d never shown up on our doorstep. Herc never found out where Mum and I were.
If his plans were to find me, why kill Murphybeforegetting information?
Nope.
The Frey’s need to blame someone was understandable, but I didn’t swallow that Herc killed Murphy.
“Yes,” Pascal answered. “Always. It’s effective.”