Chapter 10: The Valley

Highcrest is two hours from Greywater by road and forty minutes by wolf.

I did not decide to go.

My body did it, and I let it.

I shifted on the Crown lawn at first light with twenty guards, and the silver wolf came up in me easily this time.

Caspian's black wolf ran at my left shoulder.

He didn't tell me to stay behind.

He didn't try.

We came over the north ridge as the sun cleared the pines.

Below us the Greywater valley was on fire at one end.

Smoke was coming off the lumber yard.

A ring of rogues stood in the road outside the school, at least thirty of them, big and mangy and starving.

Behind the school door, forty children were screaming.

I knew the building.

I had learned to read in it.

Greywater's wolves were there too, in human shape, three hundred of them who could no longer shift.

They had pitchforks and splitting mauls and a shotgun.

My father stood in front of the school door with an iron bar.

His shirt was torn and he was bleeding from the scalp.

He swung the bar at a rogue twice his size.

He couldn't shift, and he was still standing in front of the children.

I would think about that, later.

I ran down the ridge with nothing in my head at all.

A rogue saw me coming and turned.

I hit it at full speed.

I had never fought in my life, and my wolf had been caged for twenty-four years.

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