Page 55 of The Wolf Queen

“This is the throat of the wolf,” Higgins said, his eyes gleaming as he looked around avidly.

I’d seen wolf cult statuettes before. When men were sent north to serve at the garrisons, my father had been particularly officious, insisting that the men, whether highborn or low, be stripped and searched, making sure they were humiliated in the process. This often resulted in the confiscation of small votive figures carved from the deepest ebony. Wolves, all of them, the hard, dense wood carved in abstract shapes with sharp edges, though many of them had been well-worn and polished through the daily touch of the devoted, over years. And here, in this chapel, a massive jet black stone wolf was set behind a rough altar, also made of stone. Something, however, whether it was that they seemed to be made from a different type of stone, or had a different style of construction, made me think that they’d been installed at different times, and I wondered why. While we stood looking, Higgins fished his medallion out, as did the other worshippers he had collected in Middlebury. They bowed low to the statue for some minutes, then Bryson walked over and interrupted their devotions.

“I must ask you to curtail your worship or else leave you to it,” he explained. “Time is of the essence for me to make my way to the throne room.”

“And we will join you there,” my grandfather replied mildly. “Go on ahead, Highness. We will be there presently.”

“And us with you.” Selene came to stand by my shoulder. “Hoods pulled down, of course.”

“That goes for the rest of us,” I said, turning around, “But the children…”

“Darcy, I should come,” Del said, gripping his sword hilt. “I can help. I can—”

“You can set her heart at ease, knowing you’re safe,” Gael said, crouching down before the boy. “She can’t do anything that she must if she knows your safety is at risk. Down here, you’re not likely to be in any danger.”

At that statement, we all looked around the gloomy cave. I wasn’t entirely sure that was true.

“Then we should stay, too,” Selene told Del. “We’ll lay in wait, young prince, and if we get a sign from Darcy—”

“How will we get a sign?” Del demanded. “How?”

“Your mother is goddess-touched,” she replied evenly. “We’ll know if she needs us.”

“As for us, we’ll go out into the city,” Higgins said, speaking for the wolf cultists that he’d brought with us. “All of us have families to reunite with, but we’ll make contact with the chapters we know of, let them know that she has come.”

Bryson looked back at me speculatively for a second, then nodded and strode off.

“You’ll keep the children safe?” I asked Selene, knowing she would but needing to hear it anyway.

“With my life,” she replied.

“And ours,” Orla and Ayla added.

“Goddess hope that’s not required,” I said, then flinched when I heard the sound of birds fluttering. “Perhaps—”

“We must go now, Darcy. The crown prince is going to attempt to have his father declare him king and Bryson will need all the support he can get in the throne room,” my grandfather said.

I knew he was right, but what unnerved me was hearing the low chuckle of the Morrigan inside my head as we left the children and the Maidens behind and walked some way through the cave. Here and there, we passed the evidence of new worship, of altars and symbols that had been installed in this sacred place. But they looked nothing like that skeletal statue I had glimpsed in the Crone’s chapel beneath Snowmere. The trappings of worship that we came across looked more like toys left by children, rather than religious artefacts. What lurked within this place was far older and far darker.

More than you know, the Morrigan said.

After a time, my attention was caught by the crystal walls as we passed, our reflections moving and distorted by each spine of quartz. But as I looked, they changed.

Other women wreathedin cloaks stalked forward, their arms burdened down with the fruits of their labour. Wheat from the harvest and corn, fruit from orchards, animals from the field. A lamb bleating piteously, struggling in their grip, but the women marched forward. The reflections changed, showing me the stone altar from before as they laid their sacrifices down. The fruit rotted and the wheat withered the moment it touched the stone, drawing cries from the women that seemed to echo around the chapel. But when I glanced at my mates, I knew they didn’t hear the sounds. My princes strode forward, taking the four points around me, forming my honour guard. I looked back and the women had laid the lamb down. It gave one shrill, sharp cry that was there and gone again, as it too was eaten by decay.

Is that what I need to do?I asked her as we walked.Bring you a lamb?

You brought me two very pretty ones, she replied and that was when I saw an image of Selene and the Maidens sitting down with the children, Orla pulling a set of dice from her tunic and explaining the game. Jan shook the dice first and I watched them tumble onto the floor, then bounce free, rolling towards the altar. She was up and after them, running towards the hunk of stone, hands outstretched, the dice bouncing forward.

No!I shouted inside the confines of my mind.No!

No? You want to be queen, don’t you? You want to wield all the power of the land. One girl for so many… You’ll need everything I have to give if you’re to survive walking into this wolf den. They’re strong with the power of gods that don’t belong here.

I said if you needed a sacrifice, you’d take it from me.

Weyland’s head turned in my direction when I pulled out my knife, a protest on his lips unvoiced as I sliced my palm. You always know a bad knife cut by the sensation that follows. Immediate pain and the cut probably isn’t that deep, but one that took some time to feel was never a good one.

“Darcy!” Weyland snapped, slowing his pace, but I moved sideways. I walked along the wall, smearing the pristine crystals with my blood as I went. It dripped between my fingers, onto the stone and everywhere I went, the stones grew brighter and brighter.

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