Hounded

me merely to vent their spleen. «
    » Vent their spleen? Are you trying to quote Master Shakespeare to me again? « She smiled at me, and I began to think of things I really shouldn’t before going into battle. » Because no one in this age speaks of spleen venting. «
    » No, you’re right, « I said. » I get my idioms mixed up sometimes. It would be more contemporary to say they’re going to go apeshit on my ass. So what would you suggest? «
    » Communicate with them. Explain what I did and refocus them on their goal. They should vent—I mean, go apeshit—on the witches’ asses, not yours. «
    » I cannot do that, « I said. » I fall far short of your skills in these matters, Flidais. «
    She frowned at me but said nothing. Then she considered the werewolves splayed on the ground, and I felt her draw a bit more power as she spoke to them through their pack link. After about half a minute, the werewolves leapt to their feet as one and snarled at her. It became one long, threatening growl, and if I had that many burning eyes glowering at me, I’d probably have issues with a squirming colon. But Flidais appeared unconcerned. She said aloud, » Go and free your second. If your sacrifice survives the witches’ traps, I will render what aid I can to remove the silver. You are a strong pack. Fight well, feast well, and be whole again. «
    Gunnar Magnusson barked a last note of defiance before turning around and launching himself down the path into the canyon. His pack quickly followed, and I had no time to do anything except mutter a clipped » Bye! « before taking off after them, Laksha close behind.
    The werewolves were not bothering to keep their pace down for the slow bipeds anymore. They quickly outran us, and Laksha and I were left running alone. Some of them—perhaps many of them—would be severely injured or even killed tonight to rescue one of their own. But for Gunnar and the rest of them, this wasn’t about saving a pack member so much as saving face. No one could be allowed to mess with the Pack and not suffer retribution—with, perhaps, the exception of Flidais.
    I was glad not all the Tuatha Dé Danann had her gifts. Clearly Aenghus Óg did not, or he would not have given the coven the task of taking out the Pack. He had other gifts, though, and I could only hope mine were a match.
    We ran in silence for a while, but by and by Laksha observed that Flidais’s interference might turn out to be a good thing.
    » I have never seen a pack so angry, « she said. » It makes them stronger. They might survive the silver. «
    » Let’s hope we all survive. «
    We ran six-minute miles over rough terrain in the unforgiving Superstitions, so we approached the Tony Cabin area in a little over twenty minutes. We heard the werewolves ahead of us going apeshit on someone, and that’s when Laksha pulled up and told me she would attack Radomila from where she stood. Her eyes were rolled up in her head again, and I wondered if Granuaile would get a headache later.
    » We are closer than we need to be now, and the werewolves could use my help. It will be only a few minutes. «
    I wasn’t sure how she knew they needed her help. They sounded pissed off, but that didn’t necessarily mean they required aid. » All right, « I said. » I’ll see you there. «
    Laksha was already drawing a circle in the dirt. » I am counting on it, « she said.
    I continued on in solitude.
    Tony Cabin isn’t situated in a bowl, nor on a hill, but rather in the middle of a meadow graced by little beyond dried grasses and weeds. Around it, sycamores and scrub oaks as well as mesquite and palo verde provide ample cover for stalkers. There are a few trees near the cabin itself, including a couple of sycamores, and it was to these that Hal and Oberon were chained. Oberon had not yet realized I was near, and for that I was grateful and continued to shield my thoughts as best as I could.
    I saw where the werewolves had set off the witches’ trap: It was hard to miss, because there was a werewolf moaning pitiably on the ground, with silver needles sticking out of him like S & M acupuncture. It was a bit difficult to tell for sure, but I thought it might be Dr. Snorri Jodursson’s wolf, and I wondered how he had managed to draw the shortest straw. He wasn’t at the bottom of the Pack but rather near the top—and as the Pack’s doctor in both human and wolf form, they could ill afford to lose him. I would never understand pack