Page 6 of Destined to the Lycan
A part of me realized that she was deliberately trying to freak me out as it seemed to amuse her.
I swallowed hard again, refusing to show how well she was succeeding in that endeavor.
“That sounds rather painful,” I said carefully. “Will I be in any condition to go back to Ranael for the second bite?”
The strangest expression fleeted over her features. She didn’t respond right away. While her face betrayed nothing of what thoughts were crossing her mind, I understood at a visceral level that this would be a key part of the trial that awaited me.
“Pick a guide you literally trust with your life, and all will be well,” she replied in a mysterious tone.
“Trust with my life?” I echoed with disbelief. “How am I supposed to do that with someone I will have just met?”
She shrugged with a taunting expression. “That’s for you to figure out. But do so swiftly. Time isn’t on your side. Just so you know, Ronika cannot help you again.”
My stomach dropped, and a sense of dread and borderline despair washed over me. That she knew of this when I had not even remotely hinted at the help the healer had given me trulymessed with my head. But this confirmation that I no longer had this safety net wrecked me.
“How much time do I have?” I whispered, my voice slightly shaky.
To my surprise, the Weaver didn’t answer right away. She glanced instead at the wall behind her to her left. I couldn’t see anything there but an empty wall. The way she examined it, there was something beyond my capacity to perceive. Only then did I take a moment to look around the large room I had just spent the past twenty minutes in.
It looked more spacious inside than one would expect from the outside. This further supported my theory that the exterior was an illusion. The left side of the room had a multitude of scrolls, grimoires, and various parchments that undoubtedly contained the type of advanced magic most spellcasters, conjurers, and arcanists would sell their souls for. The opposite side of the room had countless vials containing potions and liquids. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what purpose they served. It also boasted an impressive collection of herbs and reagents that would likely be worth an insane amount of money on the free market.
But it was the spinning wheel next to the wall that retained my attention. Only then did I finally notice that a golden thread from the wheel pointed towards the wall before fading away. This could only mean that whatever she was spinning was displayed on that wall but invisible to my layman’s eyes.
Before I could dwell further on the matter, the Weaver turned her attention back to me.
“If you go on this mission to seek out Ranael, your fate will be decided in the next six weeks. But if you don’t go, you will die in less than two months,” she said in a factual manner.
This struck me like a boulder to the chest. I clasped my hands in my lap, squeezing them tightly to keep them from shaking. Itook a deep breath, not even realizing that I was slowly nodding as if in acknowledgement of the inevitable.
“I see. Is there no other way than exposing myself to the bite of a cursed demon wolf?” I asked, hating the pleadingly hopeful tone in my voice.
“There is. But do not get your hopes up. You would never live long enough to see the alternative paths through. Had you come to me a month ago when you first noticed the symptoms, you would have had other options. That window has closed. However, even if you had come then, I would have strongly suggested you go to Ranael instead. This path is the one that ensures the greatest possible outcome for you.”
My shoulders drooped, and I nodded again, this time with resignation. “Should I leave now then?”
She shook her head and took on a serious expression. “Not today, but in three days time. Only go to the Howl Inn on the day after the full moon.”
“Afterthe full moon?” I repeated suspiciously.
“It’s called Wolfmoon Mountain for a reason,” the Weaver replied as if I’d said something stupid. “Various Lycan packs share the territory.”
“Yes, I’d heard as much. But I thought the full moon business was just legends and folk tales parents tell their children when they misbehaved, like some kind of boogeyman?”
She gave me an indulgent and slightly mocking smile. “All legends and folktales are rooted in reality. Lycans are indeed not affected by the werewolf curse. The full moon doesn’t affect them. But therearewerewolves. You don’t want to be caught by one of them on the full moon. Get to the inn the day after.”
“Understood,” I said before clearing my throat and giving her a wary glance. “So… What is your fee for your assistance? I doubt my rarest witch candles will entice you.”
Her disdainful snort stung.
“I have a respectable amount of savings, and I could sell—”
“Your blood,” the Weaver said, interrupting me.
“Excuse me?” I asked, stunned.
“Once cured, you will give me a phial of your blood,” the Weaver said firmly.
I recoiled and stared at her in outrage. “What? That’s out of the question!”
