The trek back to the Wolf's Den was long, cold, and silent. Liam and Noah climbed the goat paths, the wind whipping at their faces. They were exhausted. They were covered in grime from the city. And they were carrying the weight of a heavy report. They had to tell Master Durai that Eiden was injured. That the mission was a mess.
"He's going to kill us," Noah moaned, trudging through a snowdrift. "Master Durai is going to turn us into rugs. Wolf-skin rugs. I'm too young to be a rug, Liam!"
"Quiet," Liam snapped, though he looked just as worried. "We just give the report. We take the punishment. We are Wolves. We accept our fate."
"I bet the punishment is cleaning the latrines," Noah sighed. "For a year. With a toothbrush."
They reached the final ridge. The massive stone gates of the Den loomed ahead. Usually, this place was silent, guarded by two stoic sentries who stared at the horizon like statues.
Today, however... there was a lot of shouting.
"NO! LEFT! YOUR OTHER LEFT, YOU FUR-BRAINED GROUND-WALKER!"
Liam froze. "That... sounded like a bird."
They crested the hill.
The main gate was wide open.
Perched on top of the gate was an Eagle warrior, waving his arms frantically. Below him, two massive Wolf guards were struggling to hang a giant, crooked banner made of stitched-together bedsheets.
It read, in dripping red paint: WELCOM HOOM EVERGRIN.
"That is spelled wrong," the Eagle screamed down. "And it's crooked! Do Wolves not have eyes? Or are they covered by your eyebrows?"
"Come down here and say that, feather-duster!" one of the Wolf guards roared back, dropping his end of the banner.
Liam and Noah stood there, mouths open.
"Liam," Noah whispered. "Are we... are we hallucinating? Did we die in the city?"
"I don't know," Liam said, gripping his axe. "Stay sharp."
They walked through the gate.
If the outside was weird, the inside was a fever dream.
The main courtyard, usually a place for solemn martial arts drills, looked like a construction site run by lunatics.
There were people everywhere. And not just Wolves.
There were Eagles hopping from roof to roof, dropping bundles of ribbons.
There were Snakes—actual members of the Snake Clan—slithering through the crowd, carrying trays of drinks and trying to sell "Commemorative Evergreen Daggers" to confused children.
And there were Owls... well, Liam assumed there were Owls. Every now and then, a barrel or a crate would sneeze, or a shadow would move and whisper, "The feng shui is terrible."
"What is happening?" Liam grabbed a passing Wolf disciple. "Soldier! Report! are we under attack?" The disciple looked frantic. He was holding a basket of flowers. "Sir! No, sir! It's the... the Welcome Committee, sir! Master Durai said we have to make it 'grand'! We're planting petunias!" "Petunias?" Liam whispered, horrified. "In the snow?" "The Snakes said they could make them grow! It involves... questionable chemicals!" The disciple ran off.
Noah, meanwhile, had found a food stall. "Liam! Look! The Eagles brought mountain goats! And the Snakes brought... something spicy! It smells amazing!"
"Focus, Noah!" Liam hissed. He dragged Noah toward the War Room. "We need to find Master Durai. He must be held hostage. This has to be a coup."
They stormed up the stairs to the main tower. They kicked open the heavy oak doors of the War Room, ready to fight, axes raised.
"MASTER DURAI! WE ARE HERE TO SAVE—"
Liam stopped.
The War Room was full.
Master Durai was there. So was Master Sebastian.
But so was Master Kael of the Eagles. And Malachi of the Snakes. And Jiro of the Owls, who was currently trying to clean a stain off his cloak.
They were all standing around a small table, looking at a clay model.
It was a statue. A very... confusing statue.
It depicted a woman (presumably Evergreen) holding a sword in one hand, a dove in the other, standing on a pile of skulls, with eagle wings sprouting from her back and a snake wrapped around her leg.
"The wings need to be bigger," Kael was saying.
"If the wings are bigger, they block the snake," Malachi argued smoothly. "The snake represents wisdom. And it's solid gold. You don't hide the gold."
"It looks cluttered," Jiro critiqued from the corner. "It lacks... negative space. And why is she standing on skulls? It's tacky."
"They are the skulls of her enemies!" Durai roared, slamming his fist on the table. "It shows dominance! But maybe... maybe we add a wolf? Howling? At her feet?"
Liam lowered his axe. "Master?"
The room went silent. All the Masters turned.
"Liam! Noah!" Master Durai beamed. He actually beamed. "You're back! Perfect timing! We need a tie-breaker. Look at this."
He gestured to the monstrosity on the table.
"For the Great Statue of Evergreen. Do we go with the 'Avenging Angel' motif, or the 'Mother of Mountains' look?"
Liam looked at the clay blob. He looked at Noah. He looked at the most dangerous warriors in the world, arguing about interior design.
"We..." Liam stammered. "We have a report? About Eiden?"
"Oh, later, later," Malachi waved a hand, sipping wine. "Unless the boy is dead, it can wait. We are deciding on the centerpiece. Tell me, boy, do you like gold?"
Noah stepped forward, squinting at the statue. "Is that... is that a badger on her shoulder?"
"It's a WOLF!" Durai shouted.
"Right. Wolf. Definitely," Noah said, backing away. "I think... maybe... more gold?"
Malachi pointed at Noah. "I like this one. He has taste."
Liam rubbed his temples. The war at the school seemed very simple compared to this.
"Master," Liam tried again. "Eiden has located a lead. And... we fought. There was a battle."
"A battle?" Kael perked up. "Did you win?"
"Yes. But Eiden was hurt."
"Is he walking?" Durai asked.
"Yes."
"Then he's fine," Durai dismissed. "Now, about the pedestal. Marble or obsidian?"
Liam sighed. He realized there was no point. The Den had gone mad.
"Obsidian, sir," Liam said defeatedly. "It hides the blood better."
"See?" Durai pointed at Kael. "The boy knows aesthetics! Obsidian it is! Now, someone get the Owls out of the rafters, they're shedding on the map."
While the Masters argued about interior design in the tower, the real war was happening in the Armory.
Charlotte, the Den's logistical genius was currently holding a clipboard like a weapon. She was standing in the center of the Armory, surrounded by chaos.
"NO!" she screamed at a Snake Clan member who was happily dipping arrowheads into a bubbling green pot. "We do NOT poison the training arrows! We are hosting a welcome party, not a massacre!"
The Snake looked disappointed. "It's just a mild paralytic. It adds... zest."
"Put a lid on it, or I will zest you," Charlotte threatened.
She turned around, her braid whipping through the air.
"AND YOU!" She pointed at an Owl who was trying to reorganize the rifles by "aura" instead of caliber. "Put those back! Guns do not have chakras!"
The Owl looked offended. "This Lee-Enfield has a very aggressive energy."
"It's a rifle!" Charlotte roared. "Its energy is bullets!"
In the corner, Emma was sitting on a crate of grenades, aggressively knitting. She was making a scarf. It was already ten feet long. "He's going to be cold," Emma muttered to herself, her needles clicking furiously. "England is wet. He hates wet. I should have knit him a wetsuit. Can you knit rubber? I need to ask a sheep."
Just then, the Armory doors creaked open.
Liam and Noah stumbled in. They looked like they had been dragged backward through a chimney.
The room went silent. The Snake hid his poison. The Owl dropped the rifle.
Charlotte lowered her clipboard. Her eyes narrowed.
"You're back," she said. Her eyes scanned them. "Where is Eiden?"
Emma dropped her knitting. She scrambled off the grenade crate. "Eiden?! Is he here? Is he outside? Does he need the scarf?!"
"He's... not here," Liam said, collapsing onto a bench.
"Not here?" Emma's face fell. "Did he... did he forget us?"
"He's busy," Noah said, grabbing a canteen of water and chugging it. "Being a hero. And getting shot."
Silence.
Absolute, terrifying silence.
Charlotte walked over to Noah very slowly. She took the canteen from his hand.
"Repeat that last part," she said, her voice dangerously calm.
"The hero part?" Noah asked innocently.
"The shot part."
"Oh," Noah said. "Yeah. He got shot. And burned. And he broke some ribs. And I think he fell through a floor? It was awesome."
Emma let out a sound like a deflating balloon and fainted, falling gracefully into a pile of camouflage netting.
"EMMA!" The Owl with the bad feng-shui rushed over to fan her.
Charlotte didn't faint. She pulled her Webley revolver from her holster and checked the cylinder.
"Who?" she asked.
"Who what?" Liam asked, tired.
"Who shot him?" Charlotte asked. "Give me a name. I will find them. I will end their bloodline. I will burn their house down and salt the earth."
"Eiden already killed him," Liam said. "Smashed his head into a wall. It was... messy."
Charlotte paused. She holstered her gun. "Good. Good boy. He's learning."
She looked at Liam. "So, he's alive?"
"He's fine," Liam said. "He's healing fast. Too fast. The doctors were freaked out."
"And the mission?"
"Complicated," Liam said. "But he found a lead. He's... changed, Charlie. He's not just a brawler anymore. He's... scary."
Emma popped up from the netting, miraculously recovered. "Scary? Like... 'brooding mystery' scary? Or 'axe-murderer' scary?"
"Both," Noah said cheerfully. "He fought with an axe in his mouth! It was so cool!"
Emma swooned again. "Oh, my heart."
"Focus!" Charlotte snapped. She looked around the chaotic Armory. "Okay. Eiden is alive. He's fighting. That means we have to be ready."
She turned to the gathered clans—the poison-happy Snakes, the mystical Owls, the arrogant Eagles peering in the window.
"LISTEN UP!" she shouted. "The Wolf is still hunting! That means we are on standby! I want every weapon cleaned, every poison labeled, and every chakra aligned by sundown! If Eiden brings trouble back with him, we are going to be the ones who finish it!"
A cheer went up.
"For the Wolf!" shouted the Snake.
"For the balance!" shouted the Owl.
"For the scarf!" shouted Emma, knitting furiously again.
Liam looked at Noah. "They're all crazy." "Yeah," Noah grinned, stealing a cookie from a Snake's pocket. "But they're fun crazy."