Chapter 15

ACHILLES. Carlos and I stare at the flags, which are waving merrily in the breeze as though they’re trying to mock us. That alone is dumb to think about, but then again, I already feel stupid and insulted at the fact that Tristan has made more progress in a single night than I ever did. However, I know Tristan. He’s not a man of action. He prefers to sit back and wait. It’s totally out of character for him to get into this kind of fast action at a very small amount of time. ‘He must have planned this for a long time,’ I tell Carlos, who’s still staring at the flags. ‘I can’t believe he already got a village to support him. A big one at that, too.’ “You’re right,” he says. “Should we go in? Do we continue doing this or should we just turn back?” I think about that for a second. We made the journey and it would be bad to leave now, wasting all that time. We’re already here. We might as well make something work. ‘Let’s pretend to be travelers,’ I say. ‘We can look at the Rogues and the people. Two birds with one stone.’ Carlos nods and is about to say something, but then I feel something shift in the air. I feel a slight vibration on the ground, amplified by the silence of the forest. It’s coming from right behind us, so I turn around, only to find an elderly man who’s carrying a big basket of those flags, probably to prop them up all over the place. He frowns at both of us, and I read his lips when he asks, “What are you doing here? Who are you?” “We’re merchants,” Carlos answers easily, rushing forward to shake the man’s hand. “I’m Carlos, and this is my friend Achilles. We’ve been traveling all night, and we were wondering if we could seek some hospitality in your village.” “I’m Morgan,” the man answers, obliging to the handshake but only for two seconds. The frown on his face eases, though. “Of course you can come to the village. We have a hot meal and beds for both of you if you need to rest.” “We just need food and a place to sit,” Carlos replies. Morgan looks at me as though waiting for me to reply, but Carlos sweeps into my rescue. “Forgive my friend.” He smiles sheepishly. “He’s a man of very few words. Even fewer without rest, and we do need to travel after this short break once more.” “I quite understand.” Morgan motions us to follow him. “Let’s go and we’ll get you some grub.” I feel pretty bad about deceiving a seemingly nice old man into welcoming us into his homeland, but I have to do this. I keep thinking that it’s going to be for their own good when I succeed anyway, and that’s my comfort thought as we head to the village and arrive at a pub. Carlos and I both sit in the very corner, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Thankfully, there are only a few villagers here and they don’t seem to mind us at all. Morgan himself doesn’t seem to mind having us here. In fact, he delivers us a hefty plate of eggs, bred, cured meat, and baked beans. I start eating. Mostly to have an excuse to not talk, but eventually, I enjoy the taste. Morgan sits with us, drinking from a big mug full of beer. “So, what do you young men sell?” “Armor,” Carlos answers, and I internally thank him for his quick wit. “I recognize the flags you were putting up. It’s for Alpha Tristan, right? The leader of Moonlight Grove Pack?” “Oh, yes.” A big smile appears on Morgan’s face. “He came by just last night. He said it was his first stop. He told us about what he wanted to do, about what the Alpha King has been doing. He wants to put a stop to these Rogue attacks, and I support him.” I look at Carlos, who looks too stunned to speak at first. He snaps to attention and asks, “How does he plan to do that?” “He wants to kill all of them,” Morgan says proudly. “That’s good! We are so sick and tired of living in fear because of those damn creatures. It’s time for us to be free from them.” I knew it. Tristan’s approach is to just kill all of them, not fully aware of how good their survival rates are, not aware of how easily they could repopulate and do it again. It’s a brave but stupid decision. Does he really expect to wipe all of them out at the rapid rate they reproduce? My hands are starting to clench in anger, so I pocket them, nudging Carlos as I do so. For a moment he just glances at me in confusion, but the longer he stares at me, the sooner he understands. “You know, we were a little apprehensive about finding shelter here,” Carlos says, his tone nervous now. “We heard that a lot of Rogues are in your area.” “Well, yes.” Morgan scratches his head, shooting us both a look that tells me he’s getting annoyed at the direction that the conversation is following. “See that over there?” We follow his line of sight and see a gigantic warehouse on the far-off hill, surrounded by a tall metal fence topped with barbed wires. It’s a tiny speck from here, shrouded from view by trees and clouds. “That used to be a factory for our lumber.” Morgan’s eyes narrow. “There was an explosion there two years ago. So many people died. Not many of them made it out alive. After that, the place just became a hub for Rogues. They made it their home. Alpha Tristan said we would bomb that place.” My eyes go wide. I remember that tragedy. I remember fighting the board of Alphas and saying that we needed to send people to inspect the place and help the residents who lost their loved ones. I was blocked from doing all of that because they claimed that the factory shouldn’t be touched and the people wanted to be left alone. But now… Tristan is just going to do whatever he wants. No one’s shooting down his stupid plans. A bomb close to residential areas? What is he thinking? Is he planning to kill everybody? I look at Carlos, and he immediately gets what I want. “Can we go up there to just get a closer look?” I don’t know what I was expecting with that direct request. Morgan has been very nice up until this point, but that seems to ring bells in his head. He gets up, peers at us, and leans over the table. “What do you really want?” “We just want to see the place,” Carlos replies, only this time, he doesn’t seem so cool. He’s jittery. He tries to reach out for his cup of coffee, but then his big sleeve gets in the way and makes it spill all over the table. However, that’s not the worst thing that happened. His sleeve rolls back, revealing a very vivid tattoo. A tattoo that I have too. The phases of the moon. The insignia of Sangria Amori, the mark of Royals, known by everyone. Morgan glares at the tattoo. Then he slowly looks up at us. At me. “I know who you are,” he growls. “You’re the deaf-mute Alpha King. You condemned us to this fate, and now you have to suffer.”