In the late afternoon, Aedric and his companion reached Frostvine Ridge.
Here the trees were older and the air was much colder.
The sky seemed a bit too dark.
Rell dismounted first, her eyes scanning the tree line.
"This is where her last raven came from," she said. "Beyond here, the forest changes. Tracking becomes nearly impossible." She took two steps forward. "I have a bad feeling about this place."
Aedric remained on his horse a moment longer, not because he wanted to but because his thighs were sore and he wasn't ready to admit it.
"What do you mean by 'bad feeling'?" he asked, sliding off the horse with a muffled groan.
"Death," Rell said in a low voice.
"Oh great," he muttered. "How very cheerful."
He followed her off the path, her boots making no sound.
Aedric growled as he tripped over a root for the third time.
"Does the north ever not smell like damp stone?" he muttered.
Rell didn't look back. "Careful, princeling. The trees might take offense. Or worse… start talking back."
Aedric grumbled, "That'd be the most conversation I've had all day."
Without warning, she came to a halt, and he almost collided with her.
"What?" he asked.
"You are too loud," she said flatly. "Do they not teach stealth in the south, or are you too busy practicing ballroom dancing?"
He rolled his eyes. "I didn't ask for a ghost of the trees as a guide."
She grinned for a second, then snapped. "Stop fidgeting and follow me quietly. Or stay behind and talk with the ravens."
Before he could answer back, her hand shot out.
"Stay close." She said and walked on.
They'd been tracking the scent for over an hour and found nothing.
"This is madness," he muttered. "You're sure this is her trail?"
Rell didn't turn. "I'm sure you've never tracked anything more dangerous than a parade route."
Before he could retort, a branch cracked far ahead, too heavy for a deer. Aedric growled low in his throat.
Suddenly a silver lycan burst from the trees, throwing Aedric onto his back. The attacker snarled and it was faster and stronger than anything he had ever seen. Its eyes glowed red, and its silver fur was covered with filth.
Rell shifted in mid-air, her wolf crashing into the attacker. Aedric rolled aside and let his beast break free with a roar.
The fight turned savage.
The attacker was wild, stronger than any ordinary Lycan. But before long Aedric clamped its neck between his jaws, holding it down.
That's when Rell saw her face.
"Eira."
Aedric froze.
Beneath him, the corrupted wolf was panting, its eyes blazing wild with foam dripping from her muzzle.
Aedric stood up slowly, breathing hard. Rell stepped in and pressed a vial of silver-laced tranquilizer against Eira's skin. The corrupted Lycan twitched, then shifted back into her human form and fell unconscious.
"We leave for Draemore at once." Rell declared.
By the time they stopped to make camp, exhaustion weighed heavy on them both.
Rell tossed him a strip of dried meat. "Eat. You're impossible when you're hungry."
He sniffed it. "What is this?"
"Don't ask."
He bit down, then gagged. "Goddess, I prefer the rabbit."
"Well something has driven away all the prey."
Suddenly, Eira stirred. She groaned, shifted once, then shifted again, back into human form, before releasing a wet, graceless snore.
They both froze.
"Well she's still alive," Aedric said flatly.
Rell stood up. "We'll keep watch in turns. If she wakes up feral again, aim for her legs."
Dragging a hand down his face, Aedric muttered, "This is the worst diplomatic mission I've ever been on."
They arrived in Draemore with Eira at dusk. She walked with them, still on her feet but moving slowly. She didn't seem hurt, at least not on the outside. The hall fell silent as she entered.
A surprised Maelor rose from his throne.
"By the gods… Eira," he said. But she didn't answer, so he signaled to the guards to take her to the infirmary.
Maelor's gaze then settled on Aedric.
"You found her."
Aedric nodded. "Yes Your Majesty."
"But why does she not speak?"
"Something must have been done to her before we found her."
"And yet she stands before me whole. Explain this, Aedric. How did you bring her here? Who held her? By what means was she taken?"
"I know little, Your Majesty, Only that we found her in the ruins, alive but broken and wild. She would not speak and she even tried to kill us."
Maelor's expression darkened. "This reeks of dark sorcery," he said, pacing the chamber. "Tomorrow, we will speak of this alliance."
Aedric bowed as the king departed with his guards to the infirmiry.
As Maelor entered the smell of herbs and smoke greeted him.
Eira sat on the edge of a cot, her eyes distant. Every now and then her fingers moved, as if she were still holding something unseen.
A healer stood nearby, nervously twisting his hands as he spoke to the king. "There's no cut or poison we can find. Her body is unharmed as far as we can tell u."
"She bears a shadow within her," Ezura the old high priestess said as she entered. Dragging her mystical staff along. "It coils around her soul for she is touched by very dark magic."
"How do we cure her, then?" Maelor asked,
"There is only one way," Ezura said quietly. "An ancient ritual. Dangerous, almost lost to time. It calls for one who can command the Moonfire of the goddess herself."
She hit her staff on the floor with a resonant thud, and a bowl of smoking herbs appeared at her feet, filling the air with a sharp, bitter scent.
"How… how do we summon it?"
"You do not," Ezura replied. "The flame answers only to the heir of the Moonguard, and none other."
"Only the Moonguard?" Maelor said. "But they are gone from the world. Then there is no hope for Eira. Is there no other way?"
"The heir of the Moonguard throne lives."
Maelor's eyes narrowed. "Impossible."
"She lives," the high priestess said. "But she is hidden by very powerful magic. I will find her."
"Are you certain?"
"I have never been wrong, do you doubt me now?"
Maelor bowed slightly and left.