Don't Call the Wolf - Aleksandra Ross Page 0,144

work to occupy her.

The trees fell away around the road, and the horses broke into an empty plain. The land beyond the forest. Lukasz had missed it. In the distance, a train billowed steam as it pulled into Queen Irena Station, the newest installment of the Royal Welona Rail. In the distance, the white tents of the Wrony army loomed on the horizon.

Lukasz kicked Król to a canter and pulled far ahead.

The tents flew past, their soldiers saluting. Lukasz barely noticed them. He headed straight for the far end of camp. Here rose the general’s tent, larger than the others, bearing a gold crest on the awning: a lynx head back-to-back with a dragon. Ren’s Dragon curled around the tent, long golden tail twitching while she slept.

And there, leaning over a table with Felka and Jakub, stood Ren.

Running wild in the woods, Lukasz had thought she was beautiful. But out here, in this perpetual sunlight, in the glow of her Dragon, in her black Wrony uniform, she was breathtaking.

The splendor of kings had transformed her. Her hair was piled under her cap, so dark and shiny that it sometimes looked nearly black. There was an intensity to her that hadn’t existed before.

She wore a fitted black Wrony jacket with a long black skirt, both decorated with golden embroidery. She had a gold epaulet on either shoulder. An army cap with the lynx and dragon was crooked on her head. The fine clothes made her look wilder. More dangerous. More out of place.

After all, she wasn’t just Ren, queen of the forest. She was also General Irena Khiva, of King Nikodem’s army.

The Dragon woke as Lukasz swung off Król. His knee hurt less and less these days.

Ren moved away from the table and whispered to the Dragon, before kissing her equine forehead. With a rush of powerful wings, she lifted off into the sky.

Ren watched her take off. And then, as if they were both dreaming, she lowered her gaze to Lukasz.

And she smiled.

“Don’t kiss the Dragon,” said Lukasz, taking off his cap and throwing it on the table. “You don’t know where it’s been.”

“I don’t know where you’ve been, either,” Ren pointed out, but she let him kiss her lightly before he glanced down at the table.

One of Jakub’s maps was pinned flat to it. Over the last two months, she’d watched Jakub redraw it, again and again, with every offensive. Ren’s armies were efficient: animal, monster, and human working in tandem. Lukasz and his brothers had even expanded the Brygada Smoka and offered their assistance.

And as their armies swept across the forest, fewer pits seemed to open in the forest floor. Evil bred evil, it would seem. Each time Ren’s armies attacked, wiping out another pocket of monsters, fewer pits would open. She’d also found that when they settled the areas quickly with humans and animals, fewer monsters returned. It was as if the presence of humanity—along with a few soldiers or wolves—kept the evil subdued.

Lukasz leaned down and tapped a black, shaded circle near the edge of the forest. It was the last dark mark on the map.

“You can cross this out,” he said to Felka. “We finished them off this morning.”

Ren grabbed his shoulder.

“Wait,” she said. “We’ve finally finished? The monsters are gone?”

“For now,” said Lukasz, smiling. “Tad and the wolves are heading back to the Mountains next week.”

Felka gave a small cheer, and with a fountain pen, she drew an exaggerated red X on the spot. In contrast to Ren’s black uniform, she was dressed in a pale green suit that brought out the amber in her eyes.

“Kuba,” said Felka, turning to Jakub. “That will give us enough time to get back to Miasto.”

Felka had just enrolled as a student at the uniwersytet, where Jakub was taking on a rather daunting workload as the other half of the department of Unnatural history.

“I have a short manuscript to finish first,” said Jakub. “Perhaps next week? Anja is excited to see the city.”

The Baba Jaga hadn’t just given back Jakub’s daughter. She’d also given him his face back. It was smooth and unscarred, and he looked ten years younger even with his spectacles and his dark suit.

“Oh good,” said Felka, replacing her pen. “Ren can come with us. To prepare.”

Ren was confused.

“Prepare for what?”

Felka snorted. Lukasz rolled his eyes.

“I think Felka is referring to your wedding,” said Jakub helpfully.

“As you can see,” deadpanned Lukasz, “Ren is incredibly excited to marry me.”

Felka laughed.

“I didn’t forget,” Ren protested. “I just can’t believe it’s such an ordeal. I’d almost rather go after the Dragon all over again.”

“I wouldn’t,” said Lukasz. “I barely survived the first time.”

Ren smiled, but what she had said was true. She was much better at fighting monsters than choosing cutlery—and that was exactly what King Nikodem was expecting of her.

In fact, in awe of their recent victories, the Miasto king had personally offered the use of the Miasto Basilica for their wedding ceremony. Ren had been reminded by everyone—repeatedly—that refusing the invitation was impossible. She’d also been informed that the chosen venue came with entirely new sets of rules, reporters, and photographers. Ren would rather have been married in Hala Smoków, weeks ago.

But this, she had been informed, was out of the question.

Ren remained lost in thoughts of domowiki playing wedding marches and Leshonki strewing flower petals while the other three exchanged plans for the upcoming weeks. Before long, Felka and Jakub returned to their tents to begin packing for Miasto. Ren watched Lukasz’s lips move, almost imperceptibly, as he tried to read a few of the words on the edge of the map. She watched his burned fingertips trace the letters, and in that moment of effort, she had never loved him more.

She slipped her hands over his shoulders and whispered in his ear.

“Let’s get married,” she said.

He half turned to her, like he had so many times in the forest, when they had been starting over and over. When they had loved each other without even knowing each other.

“As soon as possible,” he agreed. He leaned against the table and put his hands in his pockets, grinning. “In case you forget again.”

“I mean,” she said, putting her hands around his neck. His hair was a little longer now, not as rough as it had once been. “Let’s get married in Hala Smoków. Not in Miasto.”

“King Nikodem wants us to get married in Miasto.” Lukasz grinned.

“Hang King Nikodem.”

He kissed her.

“You treasonous thing,” he murmured. Ren kissed him again, and then he added: “Anyway, disobeying a royal decree would be asking for trouble. Calling the wolf, you know?”

Ren thought about it for a moment and then smiled.

“Oh, but Lukasz,” she murmured. “I like wolves.”

Pronunciation Guide

One of my most vivid memories of my Babi (grandmother) is of the two of us sitting on the living room couch, reading Polish children’s books. I also clearly remember struggling with the pronunciation of many Polish words! After all, this gorgeous language can make for an intimidating reading experience, with its unfamiliar sounds, unusual letter combinations, and library of different accents. Therefore, I have opted to include a brief pronunciation guide for some of the words and names in Don’t Call the Wolf.

Those familiar with Polish pronunciation will have already noticed that I have taken one enormous creative liberty: Lukasz’s name. In Polish, ?ukasz is the equivalent of the English Lucas, and is spelled with the “?,” which transliterates to a “w.” The correct pronunciation of ?ukasz would therefore be “WOO-kash” instead of “LOO-kash.” However, for the sake of accessibility, I’ve opted for a version that hybridizes both English and Polish pronunciation.