The Weaver's Source

Chapter 93

I woke slowly, my body stirring before my mind, responding to Grigore's song. I felt him approaching, returning to me, but something was wrong. His song was grim, heavy and dangerous. The moment I realised, I snapped to attention, sitting up sharply and pushing my hair from my face as I scrabbled to dress.

With my cloak surrounding me, I yanked the door open and stepped out into the snow, my feet freezing instantly and breath shallow from the cold. Dawn hadn't struck yet, I doubted it was even close to it by how tired I felt, and a storm was thickening, billowing over rooftops with bitter winds and flurries. I taste him before I saw him, looming in the snow and wind and reaching for me protectively.

"Inside." Grigore murmured firmly, ushering me in the moment he brushed his mouth against mine softly in welcome. I spied Remus behind him, carrying someone, and my heart sunk instantly.

Grigore left me in the kitchen and swept up the stairs as Remus bundled in, his steps heavy and song weak. Blood spattered his hair, his breath was ragged and his body heavy. Worse, he carried a body in his arms, limp and unmoving.

I shut the door, locking it firmly, then turned my gaze to Remus as he stepped away from the table, his body low with exhaustion.

I swallowed thickly as I stared at No-Tongue. I didn't need to be told he was dead. It was clear. No-Tongue's chest was frayed open from claws and thick teeth, with his ribs and glistening innards showing beneath the tears in his pale flesh. His black bloodied throat was gaping with bone bared to the world and his face was practically ripped off with only one eyes intact and half of his mouth remaining. I simply stared at the body of No-Tongue, numb with shock and sick with the gruesomeness of his remains.

"We thought we had him. Healed up No-Tongue, got him strong enough and continued the hunt." Remus said numbly, as if he spoke from a dream. "We knew we were heading into a trap. We knew that. Just didn't think I'd face my nieces so soon." He paused and balled his large hands into fists. "I choked. Couldn't hunt them, hurt them, even as No-Tongue fought and the wolf just kept attacking, no matter how wounded. Soon No-Tongue had no souls left. I tried to help him and get him to eat souls and heal himself but the wolf wasn't letting me. He kept attacking us, kept me on the defensive, kept Olive and Mary and that human male slashing. Got to No-Tongue a couple more times. Ripped a chunk of my leg off. Wasn't until Grigore came that he ran off." He went quiet for a moment. "It was too late then. No-Tongue was dead."

I glanced at his leg and sore only a huge rip in his trousers and dried blood. The wound had healed. All the wounds had, only leaving smears of blood over his neck, face and shoulders. But I saw the damage his soul had taken. Remus didn't say anything else. He just gazed down at his mute partner. I had never seen such haunted dead eyes before, as if his very soul had been ripped from him, leaving nothing but an empty husk behind. His expression said nothing but pain as he stood limply. It made me want to cry.

Wilson stumbled down the stairs, his face pale as he took in No-Tongue. His mouth opened and closed a moment, disbelief thick in his old face. He leaned on the table, breathing heavily from sickness and sorrow, as Grigore came to my side, tugging my against his chest as his magic curled about me.

"Rhye escaped last night." Wilson told Remus without taking his eyes from remains of No-Tongue burned face. "She stabbed Lynda." Some animation came to Remus' face. Fear. "She is alive though. Grigore healed her. She'd be dead if he hadn't." Wilson gave Grigore a single look that was filled with appreciation and gratitude.

"And Nanat is home now." Grigore added quietly.

Remus nodded numbly. Silence fell on us. All eyes remained on No-Tongue.

"I will burn him outside the city." Remus said thickly. "But first he must be cleaned." He turned to my Weaver. "Take care of Lynda and the girls while I am away."