Have you read Snow Shifters Part Three - The Fireplace?
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The leopard slipped through the trees. The wheels of the carriage groaned as it rolled over the hard frozen ground. They’d waited all day until it had finally emerged at dusk, heading west toward the setting sun.
He stepped carefully over a branch, placing his large paw on a bed of pine needles. The trees were finally thinning. He slowed as he reached the edge of the forest, watching the yellow light in the small carriage window wind its way up toward the tall gothic castle on the hill. Behind it, a huge yellow moon hung in a deep midnight blue sky, a sparkling strip of stars arcing across it. Clumps of grass, mounds, and boulders littered the hill side of the castle. Not big enough to hide an army, but enough for a couple of shadows.
Slipping from shadow to shadow, the leopard made its way to the base of the outer wall. He caught a glimpse of the carriage before it rumbled over the bridge and through the main gate. Guards flanked the gate, silhouetted against the moon.
Heading to the back of the castle, his paw prints slowly turning to shoe prints. Stopping, he turned to the wall, finding solid hand hold in the frozen rock. He quickly hauled himself up the wall. Pausing at the top he peered into the bailey. The keep was closest on this side, the back of a large workshop casting a long shadow between the outer wall and the keep.
He braced to flick himself over the wall when another shadow appeared next to him. Uller sent a manic grin his way before disappearing over the wall. Hurrying to follow, he landed with a silent roll into the deeper shadows of the workshop. He lost sight of Uller as he moved toward the towering walls of the keep. The keep was unusually tall and slender, as if it were reaching up to the stars. Light flickered in some of the pointed arch windows.
He moved silently to the nearest dark window. Peering into it he found an empty drawing room. Couches, tables, and cabinets created deep lumpy shadows. Uller appeared next to him again, running his gloved fingers over the line between the bottom of the windowpane and the sill. A long slim knife appeared in his hand, sliding into the crack. With a small click the window swung open. They froze, listening to the silence. Satisfied they were still alone, the two men slipped into the room. They crept across the plush carpet to the door, silently opening the door on the other side of the room. The hallway beyond was empty. A dark staircase stood at one end of the hall.
“What the hell are you doing here?” a voice hissed.
His heart launched into his mouth as the two men spun around.
“Skadi?” Uller whispered.
“Of course it’s me you idiot,” the shadow with ice blue eyes growled at them. “Don’t make me ask again.”
Iys cleared his throat. Skadi’s icy eyes shot to him. “We’ve tracked the carriage we suspect has the Dragur Staff in it to this castle.”
“Really?” Skadi’s eyebrows shot up.
“Why the hell are you here?” Uller hissed at her.
Her eyes flicked back to her twin. “Accompanying the Duchess to the ball.”
Uller rolled his eyes. Damn, did that guy have a death wish?
“You idiots better come with me,” she said, pushing past them to open a small door under the stairs.
They stared at her.
“Bol, some guy with a ridiculous hat, and a wolf are heading this way,” she said, ducking through the door.
Muffled voices reached him from the direction Skadi had appeared. His heart kicked against his chest as a light appeared under the door at the far end of the hall. He dashed after Uller, shoving him deeper into the cupboard and forcing the door closed behind him.
“Watch it you dumbasses,” Skadi hissed.
A door creaked open in the hallway. Rumbling voices and heavy footsteps vibrated through the floor. He settled against the door of the cupboard. Uller was curled up under the lower section of the stairs. Skadi had her eye pressed to the wall.
“What about the ring?” a voice squeaked, causing Iys to jump.
It sounded like it was under the stairs with them. He looked around wildly. As he moved, a pinprick of light caught his eye. He paused, moving his head slowly until he found the light again. He brought his eye up to the wall.
On the other side was a large gothic saloon. A huge white wolf sprawled out in front of the roaring fire that sprang to life in a black stone fireplace. A candle-filled chandelier hung from the towering vault ceilings. A tall man in a gold blazer folded himself into a plush black armchair, while a shorter man with a comically tall and slender top hat took a decanter of deep red liquid and two glasses from a shelf.
“I will hold on to that for now, Helfen,” the greasy voice slid out of the tall man.
The shorter man finished pouring the glass and handed it to the tall man. “We both know she won’t accept that, Bol,” Helfen said frankly, pouring himself a drink and taking a sip. He paced in front of the fireplace.
“I’ve brought the Staff. Surely that’s enough to please Her Grace,” he said, gesturing to a staff with a silver dragon claw clasping a crystal ball lying on the desk.
Iys tensed. It was here, right in front of them. His eyes flicked to Uller who gave him an evil grin. Despite himself, he felt the corners of his lips pull up as excitement flared through him.
Helfen sighed, pulling Iys’ eye back to the wall. “I will speak to her, but surely you have something more I can go to her with?”
“I do,” Bol said, his spindly fingers snatching up his glass. He took a sip. “The Drifters are back in the Frozen Valley.” The short man abruptly stopped his pacing, his eyes widening. “And they’ve brought the Orb with them.”
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A blast of icy wind followed her as she swept into the ballroom. Her green dress swirled around her heels. Her eyes roamed over the room through the slits in her mask. Those closest to the door paused mid conversation, nodding to her. She ignored them, scanning the hundreds of beautifully dressed and masked party-goers dancing under a massive chandelier suspended from an ornately painted ceiling.
There she was.
A figure stood on the raised platform at the other end of the ballroom, in front of the band. Her dark braided hair hung down to her waist, white pant suit standing out against her dark skin. Her lips were painted blood red under her silver wolf mask.
The other duchess.
The crowd parted as Vuur made her way around the edge of the busy dance floor toward the platform. The guards stepped aside at the base of the short flight of steps. She looked up to find deep red eyes watching her.
“Vuur,” the woman said.
“Verta,” Vuur said, returning the nod and taking up a place next to her. She clasped her gloved hands in front of her, eyes roaming around the room. She caught a glimpse of Elsa in a puffy purple gown and butterfly mask talking animatedly to a large group of lords and ladies. She couldn’t see Aardé but she was probably in an adjoining room preparing for the Midwinter Moon service.
“I hear Bol is looking for you,” Verta said.
Vuur scowled behind her mask as she searched the party for the spindly man. “He can wait.”
“Suits me. The more enemies you have, the more allies I gain.” Verta laughed, long fangs poking out between her full lips.
Vuur narrowed her eyes at the duchess. As the two highest ranking members of their depleted aristocracy, the people had little choice on who to follow. If it wasn’t Vuur, it was Verta.
“I have more pressing issued,” Vuur said.
Verta nodded but remained silent.
Vuur took a deep breath. “Have you seen anything… unusual lately?”
“Perhaps,” Vetra said after a long pause. “I’ve heard rumours-“
Verta cut herself off as a short man in a dress coat, black mask, and ridiculously tall top hat appeared at Verta’s elbow.
The man eyed Vuur suspiciously before turning to Verta. “The… service preparations need to be finalised, Your Grace.”
With a nod, Vetra turned back to Vuur. “You’ll have to excuse me,” she said, a small smile flickering across her face before she turned and followed the man.
Vuur watched the other duchess cross the stage, until she reached the other set of stairs. Leaving the stage, she strolled slowly through the parting crowd. Her heels clicked on the stone floor, as her eyes wandered around the room. She had to admit, she liked the other duchess’ style. The huge black gothic candelabras were pretty cool. Maybe she could get Seppa to make something similar. It would have to be curvier though. And in gold. But it couldn’t be too similar. She couldn’t have people thinking-
“Your Grace.”
Suppressing a snarl, her eyes snapped to the spindly figure wearing a gold blazer standing in her path.
A greasy smile spread across his face but didn’t reach his eyes. “Would you care for a dance?” He held his hand out to her.
She thought of the cold snow outside as she forced back the hot tingle, the shift her body wanted to make. She looked at the man who had attacked her best friend and forced herself not to rip his throat out. “We’ll play darts,” she said, ignoring his hand as she swept past.
As soon as she stepped into the billiard room the busy room emptied. Bol closed the door with a soft click which echoed in the empty room. She stepped up to the line at the nearest dart board. The last players hadn’t scored very well. Only two darts were left on the clawfoot table next to her. She watched in silence as Bol collected the darts.
“I had a slight… issue involving one of your Shifters the other night,” Bol said to the board.
She remained silent, her yellow eyes burning into him. He returned, placing the darts on the table and handed her the first. It was well weighted and balanced. She aimed at the board. Releasing the dart in a fluid movement, she knew it was perfectly on target before it hit the board. She stepped aside.
Bol moved up to the line. “Good people were injured. Them and their families are struggling. They were attacked unprovoked.”
Icy guilt twisted her stomach as he threw the dart. She stepped up and threw another dart. It landed millimetres from her first.
Bol stepped up again. “Of course, you’d never order an attack on me, so you seem to have a rogue Shifter in your ranks. I would hate to have to bring this up with the Duchess of Vampyyri so the criminal can be brought to...” the dart thudded into the board “…justice.”
Fire flared through her. She didn’t bother suppressing her thoughts of tearing his throat out as a soft snarl rumbled in her chest. “Of course, you’d never threaten me,” she said softly.
“Of course not,” he said quickly, stepping down from the line. “I only mean that I hope we can come to an agreement.”
She stepped up to the line, grabbing a handful of darts. She flicked four off in quick succession, all landing within millimetres of the first two. “I will pay for the upkeep of all the guards and their families until they recover.” She changed target, sending two more darts into the board within millimetres of each other. “And I will replace the income of the families who lost someone in the attack.”
“You should also pay for the replacement guard.”
She didn’t take her eyes off the board as her lips curled back, canines elongating. A hot tingle spread through her body. Her chest rumbled, a deeper growl clawing its way up her throat.
“But- but not paying for the replacements is also fine,” Bol cowered.
She threw the last dart without looking, sweeping from the room with an icy breeze following her. The smoking dart landed in the centre of the bullseye.
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Read Snow Shifters Part Five - The Meeting out 27 July!