The Wolf Esprit: Lykanos Chronicles 3
Chapter Eight

Slipping out of camp before sunset proved itself more considerable a liability than I’d expected. Without the cover of darkness, even the chaos of the pre-show bustle wasn’t enough to distract many who noticed me move north through the camp. I’d already lied to Mother about the duties I’d taken on to prepare for the show. And each person who noticed me walking the wrong way was one more voice to contradict me should they see me with a stranger.

Father had almost made me join the parade in town, but he shook his head after giving my bruised face one last examination before leaving. When I arrived at the spot where Maximillian would collect me, I thought I could hear Uncle Guillaume and the others singing past the tall town wall in the far distance.

At the rumble of their hooves, I turned to see horses approaching around the bend. Two large white stallions trotted down the road, pulling a fine black carriage and its driver. Slowing to where I stood, the lacquered gleam of the carriage took me by surprise. With its polished copper accents and glass windows, it appeared to be a nobleman’s vehicle.

The driver stepped down from his perch and nodded to me.

“Sir,” he said before approaching the door. He wore a fine uniform of navy linen and a matching hat. When he pulled the door open, I was certain he’d made a mistake.

From inside the carriage, a man sat forward and called out to me.

“Come, nephew.”

Dressed in a handsome green coat and fine black leather boots, the nobleman sighed with impatience under his powdered wig. The lace at this collar was the unobtainable perfect white that would’ve made my mother and her friends gasp. But the man’s young face was Maximillian’s.

The stark contrast between the man I knew and the aristocrat my eyes beheld stunned me.

Come sit inside, please. I promise you it’s all right.

Despite his telepathic words, I stood frozen.

“Nephew, the hour grows late,” he said with firm impatience.

With reluctance my body could not hide, I took a step forward and Maximillian sat back on his bench. He nodded I should sit across from him, and at the gesture, I climbed to step inside as he asked. When the door was closed and the driver was back upon his perch, the stallions shot the carriage in a circle through the tall grass and back to the dirt road to return from where they came.

I said nothing to Maximillian for a while, taking in the whole of him, his clothes more of a costume than anything. The carriage interior was just as sumptuous to behold. Fine lacquered cherry woodwork surrounded by plush velvets, as if the upholstery were part of the man’s costume.

To say it all made me self-conscious would be an understatement. Though I dressed in my good coat and breeches, anyone could realize I didn’t belong in this carriage.

Don’t concern yourself. I’ve well accustomed Alphonse to my traveling in regular attire. I’ve convinced him it’s safer in the country, and that you’ve traveled to meet us with a similar mind.

“Your nephew?” I said aloud.

“Come from Paris to visit us on holiday,” he smiled at last. Hopefully, to stay. It will not do to have you pose as anyone else but family. Alphonse knows that you’re traveling with few valuables and stayed at a tavern last night. I confided how you don’t intend to visit for more than dinner, but the baroness and I plan to talk you into staying longer.

It was another guise that didn’t sit well with me, though the man seemed satisfied, if not pleased, with his ruse. I realized how necessary it must be for these people, these lycan, to manufacture realities that would ease the common sensibilities of the normal people among them.

You will, I pray, allow yourself to be dressed upon our arrival so as not to disturb my servants’ expectations.

“Dressed?”

“My house is wealthy and noble, and such people are expected to dress in a certain manner when they dine. I assure you, my servant will take only a few moments to dress you in a proper frock. And then, you may meet my wife.”

“Where is your house, then? We’re traveling the way to Paris instead of from.” I nodded up behind me as if I could see through the compartment wall where the driver sat. “Your man must know.”

Maximillian smiled again with a boyish beauty that pushed through his refined features.

“You no doubt know your way around this country, traveling from town to town. Most people have no idea where Paris lay on a map. They do not need to know, as they’ll never see her with their own eyes, my driver included. We all live in a quiet world. Anyhow, the inn you spent the night in is behind us, and that seems right to him.”

I nodded at his statement. “And your house?”

We will be there in twenty minutes.

Again, I felt not the slightest deception from him, and again I knew this must be impossible. He must be other than what he claimed to be—some monster disguised in perfect beauty to deceive me.

You have my word. I’ve never lied to you, and I never will.

The statement gave me a chill, the way his words echoed in my mind. He could hear my every thought against my will.

“I’ll teach you to control your gifts if you stay with us. Soon enough, you’ll be able to stop me from hearing the thoughts you wish to keep private. It’s a simple enough discipline.”

“Will you teach me now?”

Maximillian seemed unprepared for my request, but he nodded after consideration.

“Close your eyes,” he said. “In your mind, picture a town like Saulieu surrounded by a tall wall. At the wall’s front is a large gate standing wide open. Carriages enter and exit through the gate with wares for sale. Do you see them in your mind?”

“I do.”

“Now, realize you are the town inside the walls. The carriages that leave through the wall’s gate are your thoughts, while the carriages that enter are my thoughts. Can you see them in that regard?”

I furrowed my brow but gave him a nod in moments.

“Good, now simply close the gate.”

I opened my eyes and gave him a suspicious look.

“It’s that simple,” he nodded. “But you’ll need to give it practice. See the wall and carriages, and then bar the gate closed. Do you see how they cannot leave or enter?”

I closed my eyes again to picture what he described. In my mind, I saw the closed gate. My carriages waited inside and I no longer saw those who waited outside waiting to drive through.

“Good. Now, picture how one of the carriage beds is filled with produce. Do you see them clearly? To each of those vegetables, assign a thought; a memory—something you don’t want me to know.”

I exhaled, thinking the exercise was stupid, but I didn’t stop trying. I saw the gate, I even pictured it being bolted shut. Into the carriage, I placed my mother’s maiden name: Ledoux.

“I have it,” I said.

“Good. Now, keep the gate closed as I try to enter.”

A moment later, I saw Maximillian’s face looking through the gate. His hazed countenance appeared like a whiff of smoke.

“More,” he said. “Bolt the gate against me.”

Again, I exhaled and saw my hands draw bars across the town gate.

“I can see the thought you’re hiding in the carriage. It’s a name.”

I pushed with all my strength to bolster the gate. I dozen more bars fell against it with loud clangs. And at once, I watched Maximillian’s face fade away like pipe tobacco in the breeze.

“That’s it,” he said, and when my eyes opened, I found his smile nodding with approval. “It was a name—a woman’s name that starts with an L. But I could not see the other letters.”

I still saw the gate, though I could not focus on keeping it closed with my eyes open.

“Ah, yes,” he said. “Ledoux. Someone you love deeply.”

“It was so difficult to stop you. I’ll never be able to do it unless a can concentrate undisturbed.”

“That was only your first attempt,” he shook his head. “What seems difficult now will happen with only the slightest effort one day. Think of it as learning to walk. I toddler tries and tries, lumbering and falling while his soft legs build and he learns balance. And then one day, he can walk. Did you give the slightest thought to standing up from your breakfast table this morning? Did the mechanics of everything involved with the act even cross your mind as you rose? Or did you simply choose to stand?”

I considered his point and recognized the parallel. Indeed, I hadn’t given it any real thought. Mother had said my uncle was waiting, and I pivoted my legs to rise when I saw him.

“Like everything we do, the first steps are challenging. And then one day they become second nature, and we forget the challenge ever existed.”

I nodded, though I realized the work it would take to discipline my mind to that extent would be daunting.

“But again, you have nothing to fear from us. And so there’s nothing you’ll ever need keep from us.”

The honesty in his eyes was unquestionable, and I shook my head at the thought of such beauty buried under his ridiculous powdered wig. Again, I remembered the sight of his body from the night before, the chiseled strength in his arms and legs, and my erotic attraction rose against my will.

Maximillian let out a silent laugh in response, and my face burned at once to realize he’d seen my uncontrollable thoughts.

“Your town will need a much stronger gate to guard those sorts of secrets.”