All's Fair in Revenge

Chapter 8: A Hard Goodbye

Early morning, more night than dawn, I untucked myself from under Bröd's arm. Crickets greeted me as I tiptoed out of the one room pit-house his mother used to dry herbs, the smell of wood fire and lavender wafting behind me. Bröd and his soft snores were not what kept me awake. Instead, it was the prickle of anxiety in my chest. It was the whoosh of energy pulsing in and out of my heart. It was the fear of what I'd see when my lids dipped over my eyes.

Before closing the gate to their family garden, I paused, memorizing the way Bröd's chest rose and fell, safely tucked behind the door carved with the protection of Vegvísir; his unwashed hair scattered about his face, parted by his nose. I had traced the thin, winding scar along his bicep with my finger before leaving, testing to see if he'd wake. He got it from trying to catch me as I fell from a tree when we were younger. Much younger. In that moment, I knew I might never see him like that, shrouded in slumber, at peace ever again; a price I was more than willing to pay to get what I wanted. A small part of me hoped he'd feel the sudden cold beside him and wake. He didn't. I shouldn't've expected it.

With a sharp whistle, I nodded for Mook to follow me. He obeyed, happy to have my hand sifting through the soft fur of his ears as we passed through a neighbor's vegetable garden, a short stable leaking the nocturnal groans of goats, and the outline of a new long-house for a new family. I'd heard they moved to Srisset from one of the smaller farming villages somewhere along the Green Pass in the North. They joined three others who'd all arrived over the past few weeks.

From there I walked Mook to the entrance of my own family's long house. At the side entrance marked by two crossed horns, I leveled a stare at my boy. He backed up until the long feathery tendrils of his hind quarters swept across the wood and iron door. His eyes drooped and I swore I saw his snout form a frown.

"I don't want to do this just as much as you," I said, hardly having to bend to cup his massive face. "But taking you with me is too much of a risk." I cleared crusted goop from his eye. He whined, sharp whine and stabbing. "Come now. Don't be like that." He whined again; longer and softer and I shattered. "Look after Bröd and Sune. My father is stuck with Ma'ma, and I fear he may not survive her alone." The wolf nudged me with his black nose, and I almost did it. I almost caved. But this was the right thing to do. In a long list of wrongs, I could do this one good thing. I could protect Mook and Bröd, and I could find a way to both save my sister's soul from Hella and ensure no one ever must endure what I had.

So, I yanked him into a hug, my arms hardly overlapping his shoulders. When I pulled back Mook yawned, his lips stretching wide over his teeth. "It's okay," I reassured, but was it?

No, far from it, actually.

Tears burned in the corners of my eyes. I wiped them away when I felt a heavy head drop onto my shoulder. The weight of him finally broke me. I embraced my boy; my arms wrapped tight around his fluffy body and snuggled my face into his fur. Tears fell freely, soaking him, and I kissed between his two circle brows. When I released him the second time, he sat, the damn wolf giving me as much of a nod as any person ever had. He then turned and sulked into our home.