Annihilation - Book Three

Chapter 42 ( End)

Unfreezing him was the easy part considering the access to the fire mage, though the group was left to wonder if leaving him some time to think might have been wiser. Between the bordering hypothermia and the intense rage, it took Reid and Tonic to hold the frosted lycan back from jumping out the window in pursuit.

 In the moments of calm that followed, Verando could explain the circumstances and the exchange that had taken place. There was no betrayal, as much as Reid seemed to want to think so; there was only survival.

 It was fully understood by the one that mattered that I did what I believed had to be done, even if, at this moment, it seemed like the worst thing to do.  Corina believed, in her broken mind, that I was ill and needed to be cured of my lycan affliction. This meant she was motivated to keep hunting us, and with me as her target, the best way to keep everyone safe was for me to go with her. 

It's hard to understand someone who isn't the most open, my emotional state was often blocked off and hidden under the sarcasm and snide comments. They struggled to know what I was going through or how much I was currently under her control, and the fractures within our group were already beginning.

 As much as Verando insisted I was of sound mind when he was frozen, doubt crept in when my father suffered a similar set of circumstances at the woman's own hands. 

My group gathered their things, for staying here was no longer an option. The insane are easy to go around in their current state as they appear to have been left in a state of stupor, their energy source gone when Corina vanished, and their minds were practically liquified. 

Those in the group who aren't lycans wonder why their intellect was left intact, and Tonic is happy to provide crude assumptions on intelligence and the usefulness of having pompous and drunken servants. 

As they raid the kitchen and prepare to leave, the crossroads that the group feels they should take slowly begins to become obvious. While the disgruntled warlord wants to go after me and my captor, the reality of their situation slowly starts to set in as they stand around the broken table and various corpses.

Surrounded by death and destruction, the furniture is battered and broken, the donkey nibbles on a fallen plant, and the house is in a state of disrepair that renders it a hazardous shelter for any length of time, it was obvious they could not remain here.

"We go after him." Verando insists. "If we leave her to her own devices and she controls him, this is it. We are finished; we can't defeat them both."

 The group looks back and forth between one another. Even the overly loyal Reid shrinks back to join the crowd, nobody saw it in the light that Verando did. Nobody saw my rescue as urgent, for I was the most powerful being any of them knew. To rescue me when I could not rescue myself seemed nearly impossible.

The rage that follows is met with patience, for no speech, no call to action would provoke the weary travelers to embark on yet another suicide run through an unforgiving frozen wood. Winter sets in outside, and the broken doors and windows creak and moan at the howling wind and snow. 

"Verando," Adriam says slowly. 

"Don't." The gray-haired man snaps sharply, setting his jaw. "Do not turn on me now. Adam, we have to go after him. He needs us, you didn't see him-"

The Frenchman frowns, folding his hands patiently. "Randy. We can not go after him." He carefully puts his arm around Penelope. "We have others to think about, we have to be realistic in what we can handle. There are only a few days left of food, and winter is setting in; we need to get to safety and recoup. We are all exhausted, you... are exhausted."