Chapter 33

The five werewolves, with Lola riding on top of Russel, made excellent time across the Oclan countryside. Less than ten minutes after leaving for the castle, they came to a cobblestone road and their speed picked up even more. Lola leaned as far forward as she could, squeezed her eyes shut, and tried not to die from mind numbing terror. Russel was going incredibly fast and the feeling of it was like something wrenching at her stomach in a very unpleasant way. The only thing she could do to make the feeling a little more bearable was to clench her stomach as tightly as possible. As a result she ended up squeezing her knees together maybe a bit too hard. She was pretty sure Russel didn’t like it that much. She felt him tense up a bit but he never indicated to her that it was too painful.

The wind blew past her, tugging at her hair and clothes. The sparse, wooded sections and rocky hills sped past in a blur. The dreary, gray skies of Oclan seemed to grow even darker the closer they got to the castle. Not that she could tell with her eyes squeezed shut.

There was no else on the roads and the only sign of civilization was the cobblestone road they raced down. It wasn’t until they got closer to the castle that they started to see some instances of life. There were dilapidated, rundown huts and fields of depressed, scraggly crops that looked maybe one or two steps away from being dead.

As the group started to pass these places, they slowed down a little. Enough to where Lola didn’t feel the need to keep her eyes shut the whole time. Cautiously, she opened them, mostly because she really wanted to see the kind of place where Russel had grown up. She expected…well she wasn’t really sure what she expected, but it definitely wasn’t what she saw. The pathetic farmland full of near-death crops. Buildings and houses on their way to total collapse. Haggard, dirty, and stick-thin humans struggling to do anything because they were so obviously malnourished.

It was heartbreaking to see.

When Russel and his brothers sped past, eyes widened in evident fear as each human practically threw themselves to the ground in supplication. They kept their heads bowed so low, their faces were practically in the mud and dirt.

Lola saw it, saw all of this misery, and was appalled. How could anyone do this to their subjects? How could a king think to prosper when this was how he treated his people? She already hated the man but seeing all that only reinforced her hatred even more.

Not long after they flew past the beleaguered, malnourished humans, they got to Oclan, the kingdom’s central city. That, at least, was an impressive collection of stone buildings with wooden roofs covered in slate shingles. A tall, stone wall encircled the entire city and a single gate was the only point of entry. As they drew up to it, the portcullis rose with a shriek of rusty chains. Once they were through, the guards manning the thing reversed its course and it screeched loudly as it came back down. It was, Lola realized absently, even louder going back down than it had been going up.

Torches guttered from sconces attached to the buildings. People milled about. In the lower sections of the impressive city, most of the people she saw looked like they were human. She wasn’t sure how she knew that but her instincts told her this was true. However, as their progression continued onward, the buildings got more elaborate. More intricate. Those she saw here were werewolves. She had no doubt in her mind about that. The murderous, hungry way they looked at her as she rode past was an almost dead giveaway.

That and the icy sensation rippling across her spine.

Now that the harrowing part of her journey to the castle was over, specifically the part where Russel ran full out across the road, Lola could now focus on other things besides her own terror. Things like the weird sensation she kept feeling. It was impossible to ignore now. She wanted to, mostly because she had no idea what it meant, only that somehow, it was connected to supernatural creatures. That was the only time she ever felt it.

That wasn’t quite all of it, she knew. Supernatural creatures seemed to be the trigger but not all the time. When she first met Russel after she had trapped herself under a fallen tree, she hadn’t felt it then. It wasn’t until later, when he tried sneaking up on her, that she felt anything. What was different then?

There was something to that, she could feel it but with all the wild emotions still surging through her, she couldn’t think straight. A tiny scrap of something, an idea perhaps or a guess of some kind, floated up to the surface but it was too unstable to grasp and it flitted away, back down into the depths of her brain.

She didn’t have much more time to consider it anyway. Russel and his brothers had come to the focal point of the city. The castle. It was situated about three or four levels above anything else on a massive rock formation. Guards and soldiers manned the immediate area but as the easily recognized princes of the king, they were let through without question.

They passed through the castle’s first set of doors. They were massive and made from a heavy, dark wood that looked almost black. They went through a short hallway with slits on both sides of the walls and then went through a final door. They came out onto an expansive courtyard filled with tall, gorgeous fruit trees. They were completely at odds with the gray, dreariness of Oclan she’d seen so far. Past the courtyard and through another door, they finally found themselves in the main foyer of the castle. Lola was shocked to see the place was beautifully appointed, full of impressive oil paintings, tapestries, thick rugs, and beautiful fixtures and furniture. A grand staircase was in the direct center of the enormous foyer.

The brothers all stopped at the foot of the stairs and started to shift back. With their clothes shredded during the shift, they returned to normal completely naked. Lola had no desire to see the other brothers, however, she couldn’t help but let her eyes wander over Russel’s body as he returned to his human form. She tried not to make it obvious, at least, but she wasn’t sure how successful she was at that.

Out of nowhere, and completely silently, came a group of five human servants. Not one of them said a word or even really looked at Russel and his brothers. They just held out elegant, silk robes for them to take so they could cover themselves. The brothers took the robes without a word and didn’t even glance at the humans as they put them on but as Russel took his, he gave the human bearing it a quiet word of appreciation.

Once their task was completed, the humans left, just as silently as they entered.

“This is where you grew up?” Lola asked, looking around with appreciation. She had never in her life been inside any building as massive and impressive as the Polver family castle.

“It is,” he replied, keeping his tone neutral. He didn’t look at her when she asked that.

“Come on,” Roland said. “No talking. No stalling.”

Lola wanted to say something rude to him but Russel just shook his head, face grim, and urged her onward. It looked like he didn’t want to stall any longer either. She could almost feel a low, thrumming terror coming off him and she knew he was just as scared to face his father as Lola was. She wanted to grab his arm, yank him out of that castle, and run away with him but she knew he wouldn't go with her.

Whatever happened, it was too late for running.

Eventually after climbing three flights of stairs, they went through one final set of doors and found themselves in a long, wide room full of torchlight, thick columns, and a dais on the far side with a single throne carved from what looked like pure obsidian. Hanging from the ceiling behind the throne was a banner bearing the crest of the Polver royal family in their ancestral colors of red and grey.

The crest, Lola saw, was of an open hand, each finger tipped with a claw. Behind the hand was the outline of a circle.

Sitting on the throne, leaning forward slightly with his hands steepled, was one of the biggest and scariest people Lola had ever seen. As soon as their eyes met, she felt that sensation along her spine again but this time, it was much, much worse. In fact, it was worse than anything she’d experienced before.

Worse than when Russel snuck up behind her.

Worse than with the ghouls.

Even worse than the oni.

It was a malevolent, vile presence against her awareness and it was so powerful, she almost fell to her knees right there.

“Come forward, my sons,” the man said. He had a deep, rumbling voice that only made things worse for Lola.

The brothers, including Russel, started walking down the middle of the throne room on a blood red runner that started at the door and ended at the dais. The torches guttered in their sconces, as if they were muttering amongst themselves.

Lola forced herself to follow. It wasn’t easy. Her body wanted nothing more than to turn and bolt. That, she knew, would be a very bad idea though. So, instead of doing that, she matched pace with Russel. She wanted him to give her a reassuring look, something that would ease her state of mind and give her comfort but every time she looked at him, his eyes never wavered from his father.

When they got to the end of the runner, each brother dropped to one knee, crossed a fist over their chest, and bowed deeply.

“Rise,” their father rumbled.

Lola could feel something heated in that voice. Something angry.

The king got up from his throne and glared down at his sons as they stood back up. His eyes drifted over them all, including Lola. When he got to her, that anger felt like it wanted to jump out at her and smash her down. But then his gaze drifted past her and finally, it settled on Russel.

“I have to admit, Russel, you were the last one I thought would have the balls to throw the Blood Challenge at me,” he said. “At least now I have a legitimate excuse to cull you from my bloodline.”

Russel’s nose twitched and his lip curled up at his father’s words. His eyes narrowed and Lola could see him clenching his jaw, trying to bite down on the words he probably wanted to throw at him.

“Bring in the witness!” the king shouted, the tendons in his neck popping out as he yelled.

Immediately, a human woman in somewhat better clothing came rushing in. She held a roll of parchment in one hand and a quill in the other.

“Here, Your Majesty,” she said, breathing heavily. “I, Wilma Marsten, shall serve as witness to the results of the Blood Challenge between King Carter Ismael Polver and Prince Russel Arthur Polver. This is a binding challenge.”

“Good, good,” King Carter said. He started removing his clothes. As he did, the other four brothers moved off to one side. “I promise you, son, this will not end well for you.”

His head turned and that murderous gaze landed on Lola again.

“Or for you, human.”