sidir—seedeer

sid—seed

A fierce howl splintered the hive. Thrax's rage shuddered through the bond. It snapped Rowan out of palsy. Hessa was charging at her with rancorous shrieking.

Her knees were giving out, violence raging in her chest. Whatever Thrax was bellowing at her was drowned out by the wrecking thunder of her heart. She could feel his dread swooping into her—fear for her! She was frozen at the ledge, the egg trembling in her grasp. Hessa leaped, stinger aimed for the strike. Rowan launched the egg over the edge and dove out of reach. She rolled and turned, clawing at the ground to halt her momentum.

Hessa's gaze swooped over the edge as she collapsed to the ground, talons grasping at air. Rowan crouched, rigid, eyes fixed to the monster queen. Her grip was naked without her mirok dagger. It was still impaled in the rock below with the shackles.

Thrax snatched her around the waist and spun her behind him. A wall of warg muscle stood between her and Hessa as the queen's eyes turned deadly red. Hessa was so livid, she appeared beyond words. Capable only of vitriolic squalling that ripped out of her splayed pincer mouth. There was murder in her gaze as she began to stalk them.

The hive dome trembled, dust and rock shooting down around them. Rowan flinched behind Thrax, eyes burning under the onslaught.

Thrax was covered in vishwa blood as well as his own. There were gouges all over his wolf skin, the fur on his back matted with white viscera. But he held the mirok sword with steady wrath and strength of purpose.

"Save your egg, Hessa!" Rowan shouted from behind him. "It's not too late, just let us go!"

The feral sounds stopped as Rowan's words sunk in. The queen stormed back to the edge and bent over to look for herself. Snarling erupted as she began spooling the silk bungee up by her forearm.

Rowan's hands were at Thrax's sides, tugging him backwards. His back was tense, his glare fixed on the queen, but he was steadily backing away with her.

Hessa shot evil looks at them as she yanked on the rope, her movements nimble. "I'll eat you alive!" she hissed. "I'll suck out your brains through your ears! You're dead when I get hold of you!"

"Run!" Thrax growled, brandishing the mirok fang. "Find Barthac and the others, I'll take care of her."

But the queen had her egg now and was tearing at Shebol's anchor silk to get it loose. Her glare was tracking the mirok fang in Thrax's grip. More soldier drones were rushing in. The hive crumbling around their ears.

Rowan's vision clouded. Raw panic lashed down her spine as she watched Hessa free the egg with a sharp yank. If that egg moved away from the edge, the plan was dead. They would be dead.

Insidious clicking filled the crescent hall as Hessa wheeled around to face them. Her back was to the water, her stinger thrust out over the drop-off. She was no longer watching her egg. It was safe in her grasp. As Rowan feared, Hessa started forward, stinger creeping back from the drop-off.

Thinking fast, she darted out from behind Thrax, planting her feet wide so that she was standing alongside the drop-off. Live bait. Like a cobra, Hessa's black eyes zeroed in. The queen swerved towards her, grinning hatefully as her three drones knocked Thrax down.

His bellow was agonal, splintering through her. Roaring for her to run! But she couldn't tear her focus from Hessa. Her heart rattled in her chest, in the throes of terror. "Now!" she screamed over the water. "Now!"

"Yes! Now!" Hessa seethed, storming forward. "Now you die, little fly!"

"You first!" Rowan's eyes shot wide as the mirok lunged up from the water, its eyes on the egg.

With a deep hiss, the mirok billowed out like a storm, maws wide. Time ground to a halt and the mirok seemed suspended behind the queen, the powerful tail sweeping in the water, fangs framing its prey. But the illusion was fleet, and the jaws snapped shut over the queen's abdomen, stinger and all.

Hessa screamed as the mirok dragged her down from the precipice. Both monsters were instantly swallowed up by the dark water. The egg, too.

She whirled around to find Thrax—to help him—but he was already running towards her, the drones hacked to pieces. His arms shot around her, holding her tight. Her back slumped against his chest as all the air flew from her lungs. Her legs had finally given out, but he held up, anchoring her against the tremors wracking through her.

They stared down from the ledge at the swirling river below. She thought it must look like Hafsalir. The River of Souls. She hoped Hekki tossed the queen's dismembered flesh to all dark corners of Hek.

Slowly, she knelt down, her hand catching Thrax's forearm. She scoured the murky surface for any sign of the mirok. But Thrax pulled her away, lifting her to face him.

The air wheezed out of her lungs in his fierce embrace. His fangs grazed her temple and his breath was still coming out in hot bursts. She knew he must be exhausted from fighting, but his arms were thick and solid as steel. "I don't know whether to throttle you or hug you!"

Since her face was buried in his chest, clearly he'd decided on the latter. "Just love me."

"I love you so much!"

She forced her gaze to where Thresh was lying and she felt her eyes heat with painful tears. "We need to get out of here before the other vishwa—" She gasped as his arms wrenched tighter.

His hold on her was suddenly rigid, and an ominous growl rolled through him as he glared over her head at something. Or someone.

Rowan twisted around to see what had his hackles up. "Shebol!" She sighed, knowing Thrax could sense her relief. She wiggled free. "She's on our side."

The statement served to end his growling, but his body remained tense. "The vishwa take no sides but their own."

The little queen moved forward, her gaze cautious and fixed on the wargrex. Behind her, vishwa soldiers were edging into the crescent chamber. Hundreds of restless eyes were darting around, sifting through the cavern shadows. Searching. For Hessa?

From the opposite tunnel, Barthac emerged, the pack directly behind him. They were all in berserker fettle, like Thrax. Even the wargas. And all were wearing thick nixrath chains around their necks.

Barthac glanced at Shebol and her vishwa drones, and then, dismissing them, marched over to Thrax. "You look like hek, Brother."

Thrax tore his glare from the vishwa queen and clasped Barthac's forearm in greeting. "You, too." His gaze shifted to the others. "How many dead?"

"Eela and Thurstag," was the grim reply. Barthac's gaze swept over Rowan, his face softening briefly. "Thank you for sending help, Har Kani." He nodded towards Shebol. Then his darted over to where Thresh was sprawled. "This is no time to nap, Thresh!"

From the floor, Thresh lay still as death. Except for his hand. The middle finger twitched, turning rigid in a rude gesture.

Rowan's hands flew to her mouth.

Barthac grunted. "What happened to him?"

"He got tickled by a stinger," Thrax drawled, his frown deep. "We need to get him straight to Ugla."

Rowan gaped, her shock slow to leave her. When her knees recovered, she took off at a run, her legs eating up the distance to Thresh. She dropped down beside him and hugged his back. "You sneaky bastard! I thought you were dead!"

"So did I." Thresh was eating dirt as he spoke, his voice weak.

Thrax came up behind her. "He's a tough bastard, or hadn't you noticed all the scars?"

Thresh rolled over with a groan, wincing. "That cock-eating bitch dead yet?"

"Yes," Rowan sniffed, helping him to sit up. "The mirok ate her." There was an ugly wound to the side of his spine, below his shoulder blade. It was oozing dark blood. "Gods, Thresh, she missed your heart by a breath."

"It's just a scratch," he coughed. "Meera?"

"She's fine." Brow etched in worry, Rowan gestured Thorsten over. The warg looked almost as dire as Thresh, except there were no visible wounds on him. His twin brother was dead—a wound far greater than anything Thresh had sustained. "I'm sorry about Thurstag," she murmured. She'd liked his twin very much. A sudden, intense gratitude fluttered through her chest because she still had Thrax and Meera. The force of it left her reeling.

"Don't be sorry," he murmured, clasping forearms with Thrax, "Tonight my brother will be feasting with the gods and licking ale from Falca's tits. We should all be so lucky." But his jaw was tight and the words rang hollow. Then he bent down to help Thresh up. The latter grunted in pain, his arm slung around Thorsten's thick neck as he limped off.

She looked a question at Thrax. "Who's Falca?"

"One of the more promiscuous sidir—she drinks and romps and brawls as fierce as any warg. She's quite popular in Himmingard."

Rowan huffed as he helped her up. "That's all very well, but who are the sidir?"

He pulled her in for a long kiss.

Sighing, she sagged against him, eyes drifting down. Even with a snout, he was a glorious kisser.

He pulled away, gently kissing the corner of her mouth. Then her nose. Then her brow. "A sid is what you are, min skani—a demigoddess." He nuzzled her neck, his embrace threatening to crack her spine.

But she didn't care. As always, she couldn't get close enough to him. When she sensed his attention straying elsewhere, she looked up and followed his gaze to where Shebol was hauling Meera and Merritt up from the oubliette.

Jaw flaring, he turned to Barthac. "Get Thurstag and Eela, we're leaving. One of these tunnels has to lead out of here."

"My drones will show you the way out," came Shebol's lilting reply.

"Your drones?" Thrax narrowed a look at the little queen and began stalking towards her. Rowan hurried after him.

She clicked at the soldier drones nearby, but they were slow to react. To her credit, she kept her stinger sheathed as Thrax barreled towards her. Unlike Hessa, she was a quiet one, her peculiar face stoic, and her small eyes a fathomless black. She had Meera in one hand and Merritt in the other. They were both frozen in fear. The mirror lights were still on and Merritt was staring at Shebol in rapt horror.

The soldier drones moved in behind her, looking jerky and confused.

Thrax sized up the soldiers as Torgon, Thesta, and Barthac, with their gleaming nixrath neck chains, formed ranks beside him. The vishwa all tensed at the sight of so much nixrath. An instant undertone of menace swept through the cavern.

"This one helped us in the tunnels," said Barthac, breaking the tense silence. "We'd have lost more than Eela and Thurstag if not for her."

Thrax's nod was curt, his glare remaining fixed on the queen.

Shebol eyed the mirok sword gripped in his fist. Then at the silver hanging from the three wargs. The drones inched back a few paces, but she held still despite her obvious discomfort.

Thrax handed the sword back to Rowan. "Why did you help us, Shebol?"

"It was in my best interest, wargrex."

"And now? Will you stand in my way?"

"I have no desire to meddle with wargs. If you leave now, none shall stand in your way." She nodded to one of the drones, clicking a rapid order. "This one will show you out." It hesitated a moment before moving forward.

Thrax's brow slashed lower. "You sure you have control over your hive?"

"I am queen now, they have no choice. Their mother is dead." She shrugged, unconcerned. "But I will make my own drones soon enough."

Thrax reached forward and yanked Meera out of the queen's grasp, pushing the girl into Rowan's waiting arms.

Meera shuddered in relief against Rowan. "I knew you'd save us," she said, sniffling bravely.

Rowan hugged her tighter. "I had help." Staring past Meera, she nodded at Shebol.

The little queen's stare shifted back to Thrax. When he reached for Merritt, though, she pulled the lordling flush to her side, stinger peeking. "Not this one," she clicked. "I have need of him."

"For what?" Thrax growled.

"You know what..."

"Fok," Barthac muttered.

Merritt's eyes were bulging out as he struggled in her grasp. "What's it saying?! Rowan, what's it saying?!"

Ice shot through Rowan's veins. "You can't, Shebol! This wasn't part of the plan."

Shebol stood rigid. "This was always part of my plan." She ignored Thrax's growls, facing Rowan. "You asked for my help and I gave it. Now I want that favor repaid. Take your wargs and your dead, let no more blood be spilled." She gave Merritt a light shake. "Leave this one to me." Her stinger rose to Merritt's throat. It swiftly ended his struggles. He stared at the stinger, turning white with fear. "If I'm to rule here, my hive brood requires" —she glanced around at her shifty drones— "fresh blood. New life."

Rowan followed her gaze with dawning understanding. These drones belonged to Hessa. They would never fully belong to Shebol. Even physically, she was wholly different from them.

She tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry. "You didn't tell me who—what—your sire was."

Thrax and the other three wargs exchanged looks. It was Torgon who said, "You look...half golrag to me. Is that it?"

The queen inclined her head. "An experiment gone wrong. Hessa has tried many species, even trolls. But none she mated and hated more than the golrag. Ironic, isn't it, that it was a golrag mating which begot her her first heir." Shebol shrugged. "She nursed me at her breast even though she despised what I was."

Rowan's eyes flared. There was some similarity between Hessa and the High Lady, likewise between Rowan and Shebol. Like Shebol, she'd always felt her mother regretted her. She clutched her belly, intent on the queen's every word. Despite the stakes, she felt almost sorry for the young queen.

"She'd have killed me as soon as that new queen emerged." Shebol shrugged, eyes flicking down to the water.

"Why not sooner, if she hated you as you say?"

"Vishwa instinct is too strong—an heir is preserved at all costs. Until there is a new one. In turn, a queen's brood protects her at all costs."

"So why didn't you protect your queen?" Thesta asked.

Shebol grinned at the warga. "Because I'm half golrag and golrag pups grow up to challenge their own mothers for control of the pack. Some even kill for it." Shebol shifted her attention back to Thrax and Rowan. "But it's human and warg nature alike to honor a parent. Human nature to follow blindly. But I won't make the same mistake as Hessa. I want nothing to do with golrags. And you wargs give too much trouble." Her brow quirked. "I have no taste for pack animals." She yanked Merritt's shivering frame closer to her when he tried to inch away. "Humans are more...malleable."

Thrax shot Rowan a meaningful look. "Not my mate."

"No," Shebol agreed, "not her."

Thrax gestured for Thesta to take Meera out. The girl was shaking and her wounds were still seeping. Thesta kissed the top of Meera's head, tucking her under a protective arm. She gave Rowan a reassuring nod and lead Meera to where Thresh and Thorsten were hunkered.

The three warg males surrounded Rowan protectively. "Where's your mirok dagger?" Thrax asked her.

"Down there," she said, pointing behind Shebol, to the oubliette.

Thrax nodded to Torgon. The burly warg shot her a grin and leaped down.

Now only Barthac and Thrax stood flanking her. "We need to leave, min skani," said Thrax. "Say your farewell." He was looking at Merritt as he said the last.

Rowan stepped forward and reached into Merritt's surcote. He whimpered as she pulled her red wolf stone out of his inner pocket. "To remember you by," she said woodenly, switching to Wrasian. Her words sent him into a fit of screaming.

"Not for self, but kin," she whispered to herself, her words drowned out by his hysteria. She knew what it felt like to be abandoned as, no doubt, Merritt now felt. But what choice was there?

Shebol pushed he screaming mate to one of the drones, pincers clicking orders. The screams continued as he was dragged down the stair bridge to the eggery.

Guilt squeezed at Rowan's gut. A pang of regret was worming into her chest. But she wouldn't fight for him. They couldn't risk any more death. It felt wrong to leave him here, though. "You might not want to kill Lord Marwort," she said to Shebol. "You could make a bargain with the High Lady—the boy in exchange for a steady supply of murderers and rapists. All excellent breeding stock."

She watched the queen mull over the suggestion, then she turned away with a nod at Thrax. She'd planted the seed, but it was up to Shebol now. She'd done all she could for Merritt. She owed him nothing more. After all, it was his fault they were here at all. "Oh" —glancing back— "if you plan to rid yourself of the old queen's eggs, I hope you'll reward the mirok. I'd endear myself to that one if I were you."

"An excellent idea, wargrix. I have a nursery full of tender young vishi to dispose of." The queen chuckled, shooing her soldier into the tunnel with a rapid click. The one who would show them out. "Farewell, wargrix."

Rowan inclined her head, letting the pack file past her into the tunnel. Only Thrax remained at her side, their hands linked. "Goodbye, Shebol. I can't say I'll be back anytime soon."

The little queen smiled. "I can't say you're invited."