Chapter 5
The argument that the mysterious woman was the Luna wasn't something he took seriously. To be fair, he didn't even believe that a Luna would arrive according to the prophecy, at a time when their community would need it, to unite them and resolve their troubles. It all sounded too fantastical, too good to be true.
"Most parts of the prophecy have been lost with time, twisted and distorted through countless retellings," Eldric added, his voice filled with scholarly caution. "And it's been decades, perhaps even centuries, since the prophecy was first uttered. It's unlikely that any of it remains accurate."
"Exactly. I'm more inclined to believe that the woman was sent by Victoria," Daniel spoke up, his voice laced with suspicion. "It's just like her to try and infiltrate our pack. And I'm pretty sure everyone sees what's been going on right? The spies sent from the enclave."
"That's right," Caspian said with a nod, his eyes narrowed in thought. "It's no need to anyone how much the enclave has been on our backs sending spies to infiltrate our pack. It wouldn't surprise me if this woman is one of her pawns."
"And there is only one way to find out for sure," Ronan said, his voice practical. "We question her, when she wakes up. We need to find out who she is, where she comes from, and what her intentions are."
"How is she now, anyway?" Orion asked Lysander, turning his attention to the healer.
"I've treated her injuries, as best as I could. She's stable, but still unconscious. There was…" He swallowed, his expression troubled. "She has some broken bones. A broken wrist and, like we already know, knife marks on her body. The cuts are deep."
That wasn't news to Orion, besides he had been the one to carry her to the pack but he didn't know the knife wounds were deep. It didn't appear so.
"Knife marks?" Madam Tyler asked him, her voice filled with morbid curiosity.
"Yes," Lysander confirmed, his voice grim. "Someone inflicted those wounds deliberately. And like I said, it's a deep hash."
"How deep are we talking about?" Orion asked him.
"Not just to get some small amount of blood." Lysander said to him.
"Could you describe where exactly the knife marks are located?" She asked him, her eyes gleaming with a strange look.
Orion couldn't identify if it was one of fear or intrigue or just plain disgust.
Lysander hesitated for a moment, then described the location of the knife marks in detail. Deep gashes on her wrists and legs, precise and methodical. Madam Tyler gasped when he finished, her hand flying to her mouth.
Orion noticed her reaction, his senses on high alert. Even Eldric, Caspian, and Daniel sat upright, their expressions shifting to concern. There was something amiss, something they weren't saying.
"What's wrong?" Orion asked them with a frown, his voice sharp.
"Those marks…they're for a ritual," Madam Tyler said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Orion frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean? What type of ritual?"
"One I thought was long forbidden, lost to time. A dark, twisted practice that should never be resurrected," Madam Tyler said, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and revulsion.
"Were there marks from a rope or any other type of restraint?"This was from Caspian to Lysander, who gave him a nod, his expression grim. "Yes, there were marks on her wrists and ankles, as if she had been tied down."
"Black magic," Daniel muttered, his voice filled with dread.
Eldric adjusted his glasses, his eyes wide with disbelief. "But it's forbidden, right? No one practices it anymore."
Daniel chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. "There are always those who seek power, no matter the cost. There are still practitioners, hidden away in the shadows, clinging to forbidden knowledge. And perhaps this person was used, or about to be used, for one of their rituals."
"I still need to check if it's really black magic. I'll need to see her, examine the wounds myself," Madam Tyler insisted, her voice filled with urgency.
Orion hesitated for a moment, then gave her a nod. "Alright, you can see her. But I want to be there as well."
Caspian scoffed, shaking his head. "No other magic would require a restraint and knife gashes that deep, inflicted on specific parts of the body. We all know it's black magic. There's no need to confirm what's already obvious."
"But we have to check, just to be sure," Madam Tyler said, her voice pleading. "We need to understand what we're dealing with."
Tobias released a sigh, his boredom momentarily forgotten. "Does this mean the Enclave uses black magic?"
"We do not know if she is part of the Enclave, or if she was sent by Victoria," Brynhild argued, her voice firm. "We're jumping to conclusions. We need to gather more information before we start pointing fingers."
"But she could be. And there's information floating around on the black market that Victoria practices black magic. It's hush-hush, whispered in dark corners, but it's there," Tobias said, his eyes gleaming with a hint of morbid fascination.
That was news to Orion. He had heard rumors, of course, but nothing concrete. "Really?" Orion asked him, his voice laced with surprise.
"Yes…but there is no solid evidence of it yet. Some say she uses a cave deep in the west, hidden somewhere in the mountains. But they don't know which one, and the West has numerous mountains with countless caves," Tobias said, his voice filled with intrigue because he was going to find out.
His position may be the master of trade, focusing solely on the black market since their pack was banned from selling directly but he was also a master at gathering information.
"Does this have anything to do with why the Enclave has been sending spies then?" Mary asked, her brow furrowed in thought.
"Unlikely," Ronan said, shaking his head. He stepped forward and gave Orion a sealed letter. "This just arrived. It might shed some light on the Enclave's current situation."
Orion opened the letter, his eyes scanning the words. As he read, a slow smile spread across his face, and he let out a short, sharp laugh.
"Oh, how the tables have turned," he said, wiping a tear from his eye. "It seems the Enclave requires our help."