Part Two
"Well, what an insightful letter. Too bad Zeina won't get a chance to read it. Akello realized more than I would have given her credit for."
Jack gave a very small shrug as if to say 'what a pity,' before lightly tossing the letter Spot had been charged with into the flames of his fireplace. Spot watched, the bile rising in her stomach and a tightness clamping down on her throat, but didn't dare to move. The woman who was not Melina Porter stood behind the young Shadow Wolf was made to sit; Spot's long, sleek hair was wrapped around the woman's fist and she gave it a jerk just to make sure Spot didn't get any ideas. Spot was furious with herself. She hadn't seen the trap laid for her; she hadn't seen what was now clearly the trap laid for Zahi. She hadn't gotten more than twenty meters outside of the Red Jackal's quarters before she'd been caught, gagged from behind. No one ever snuck up on Spot.
"You've played your part very well, Spot."
"I didn't do anything for you tonight," Spot spat back, though she knew it wasn't true. "Whatever you think happened tonight, your'e wrong. Kui didn't find me. I didn't say anything that wasn't fron -"
Melina-not-melina's cold laughter interrupted Spot. "The White Bitch-in-heat isn't our only messenger. You must realize that, smart girl that you are." Spot only seethed in silence in response. Pulling Spot by her hair to face her, the 'woman' asked, "Did anyone else see you go to the Red Jackal other than 'Clarion?' Did you give the message to anyone else?"
Spot huffed, glared, but set her jaw and refused to answer. Jack opened his mouth to try a more congenial tract, but Melina hit Spot hard on the side of her head, spots exploding in front of her eyes, before pulling her sharply back up by the hair. Jack winced at the sudden outburst of violence. The Beta Wolf did not have the stomach for this business.
"Did you tell anyone else?" Melina repeated, her voice calm and cold.
"No," Spot finally answered, head still reeling from the blow, hating herself and this woman and Jack.
"Good. Good girl." Melina patted Spot's cheek, then turned to Jack. "You'll have to assign someone to step in for the missing Red Jackal. Someone she trusted. And best to quiet things down for now. And you keep a lower profile until the darling Red Wolf returns. Make it look like Akello had a part in the trouble. In the mean time, with no one knowing who to trust, dischord will grow on its own. Those who were loyal to Zahi won't know what to think." She paused, as though a thought just struck her then turned back to Spot. She had her feelers, her informants inside the Blood Wolves, but the mind of the Red Jackal wasn't something she knew. "What do you think, little Spot? Was that letter all your darling Jackal guessed at? It included some interesting information about those problematic Blood Wolves she had killed, but I think it didn't say it all. What else did she tell her little pet?"
This time Melina didn't tolerate Spot's silence for nearly as long. She gave the Shadow Wolf only a few seconds before she hit Spot across the face. (Again, Jack winced.) When Spot remained silent, Melina dragged her up by the hair over to the fireplace. "Are you going to make me ask again?" Melina asked lightly, as - still holding roughly on to Spot's hair - she lifted the cast iron poker from its place beside the fire, and stuck it into the coals.
Spot's eyes widened and she felt the words leaving her mouth before she even realized she was talking. "She suspected the Beta might be setting her up, but she wasn't sure," she answered, her violet eyes fixed on the poker which was slowly heating. Another jerk at her hair let her know that wasn't answer enough and loosened her tongue. Spot was talking quickly now, almost automatically, hating herself more with every word, but driven on by fear. "She wasn't sure if it was him, or, or if Rufus was setting a trap for her. Or, if he was testing her. Especially having the Dire Wolf shadow her in his absence. And because she didn't feel that he, that he gave her very much information. She didn't like being kept in the dark."
"And the Blood Wolves most loyal to her?" The woman asked, toying with the poker in the fire that was now beginning to glow gently orange. "What about them?"
"It... it depends," Spot answered, her eyes transfixed on the glowing poker, the pain from the earlier blows to her head starting to throb. "I mean, I'm not a Blood Wolf, I - " Another yank to her hair told Spot that she couldn't back out of the question. "There are some who are loyal to her who don't like the way Rufus handles things with the Bloods, with Torak and thinking... thinking maybe he was punishing her unfairly. But I don't, I don't know what they would think if... if..." Spot couldn't bring herself to say 'if Zahi were killed.' Suddenly it occurred to Spot, through her fear, that she wasn't sure if any of the rank-and-file Blood Wolves suspected the Beta. If they thought Zahi had been killed, would they think it was his orders? Or the Red Wolf's? Carried out, maybe, by the menacing Dire Wolf... She felt her stomach fall a little.
But the woman finally released her. For half a second, Spot relaxed, only by the most miniscule amount. But it was just enough to be taken off guard when the woman - for no reason clear to her - brought the iron poker lashing down across her middle, winding her in a sudden burst of heat and pain.
"I dont' know if that's really necessary..." Jack protested, though a little half-heartedly, cringing at the open display of violence. But all the same, he didn't move to help Spot. After all, the Gray Wolf had his own neck to watch out for. Instead, with blanched pallor and a naive grasp of the obvious outcomes, he asked, "Is it wise to say so much to her? She's worked well with us, but -"
Jack was cut off by a cold, but genuinely amused, laugh. "Very astute, Mister Amsel!" With a thin smile, the woman took a knife that had been lying idle on a nearby table. Spot's usefulness had ended. It was time to take care of her, before the tool became a liability. Coolly confident, Melina picked Spot up roughly by the hair and was prepared to slit the Shadow Wolf's throat, but as the knife made contact with the skin on Spot's neck, and unseen to Melina, Spot twisted, swinging the fire poker hard at Melina. The woman, taken off her guard, was sent sprawling. Spot was wild, only half-thinking; she was not a trained fighter. Though it was shallow, warm blood was flowing quickly from the cut across her throat. Scrambling, Spot grabbed the knife that had clattered to the ground and flung herself at Jack, stabbing with all the strength she could muster at the Beta Wolf.
But Spot did not stay to check her handiwork. She wasn't a killer, wasn't a fighter, and the instinct to flee boiled up inside of her. Jumping off the Beta, Spot flew to one of the 'secret' exits from the Beta's quarters. She needed to get out. Quick. Out of the room. Out of the Den. Probably, out of Arca. So she flew like a wild animal from a hunter, employing all her knowledge of the secret passages of the Den to make her escape, finally disappearing in a trail of blood. Hers and the Beta's.
Melina-not-melina recovered quickly. Too quickly. Jack groaned, lying on the ground in a pool of blood. Spot had stabbed him just below the collar bone. It wouldn't be fatal, but Jack was not one for blood and pain. And he was surprised to hear laughter, once again, from the woman.
"Well," she declared glibly, "that couldn't have gone much better. Now not only has Akello fled, but one of her minions has made an attempt on the life of the Beta Wolf. Very good, very good indeed."
Hours later, in the inky dark of the Arca night, Spot stared in disbelief. The fire blazed uncontrolled in front of her, consuming the old building. Sick with fright and self-loathing, the Shadow Wolf (or, she was sure, former Shadow Wolf; undoubtedly Jack had already demanded her death from any Soot Wolf who came across her) had immediately set about finding the smithy that Clarion had taken the Red Jackal to. She hadn't known its location for sure, but it hadn't taken Spot long to find it. But when she had...
The fire set by Zahi's retreating attackers, fed on the debris of the old and decrepit building, had grown into something wild. Spot stood amongst the few others who dwelt in this district; those working late, and drifters who took shelter in the abandoned and derelict buildings. No one of import. No one with the authority to investigate the fire.
"Shame," an old man to Spot's left said aloud, and Spot suddenly realized he was speaking to her. "Bet it was them kids. Saw them in there yesterday lightin' the fires in the old ovens. Up to no good. Still, don't think anyone were livin' in there."
Spot turned to look at him, old and bent and poor, but no words came to her. She just looked at him wide-eyed, disbelieving.
"Whoa there, you okay girl?" the old man asked, now seeing the dark cut across Spot's neck, the bruises on her face that had been covered by the darkness. "You look like you been in trouble. You okay? You come with me, I'll - "
"No." Spot said suddenly, decisively. She needed to leave. Stay on the move. Surely this would be the first place they looked for her. If they weren't on the way already. "No, I'm fine. Thank you. I need to go."
The man opened his toothless mouth to speak again, but Spot was gone. Melted into the shadows.
Inside, everything was covered in ash and coal. Pinned under a fallen beam was the crushed form of Murky. His spell dispelled, his life spent.
No word would get back to the Den of what, before the fire, had happened here.
((OOC: Sorry this is so rough and long! That's all for now. Hopefully this gives any Wolves still around some tension to work with, without having to rely on any of these characters. For now Spot and Zahi can both b considered either fled or dead. Jack's around, laying low.))