Wolfs Soul

by Jane Lindskold

  Firekeeper suspected that all three of their human companions would follow, because they had already demonstrated ample courage—sometimes more courage than prudence. She handed the lantern to Arasan, then turned the key she had left in the lock when she and Blind Seer had departed, pleased that the sharp click the key made turning in the lock would be covered by the noise without.

  Once the door was open, the wolves bolted out side by side. Farborn soared overhead as high guard. Unlike humans, who would have pulled up short upon seeing the area so transformed from the last time they had been there, Firekeeper and Blind Seer had the gift for both remembering the past and accepting change.

  To their right, where before had been a massive pile of dirt and rubble, was now a wide-arched opening floored in dirt. Through the arch was another open area, but their view of what lay beyond the door was partially obstructed by three figures: Kabot and Uaid in close combat with the statue the wolves believed they had laid to rest some moonspans before.

  Both men showed fresh injuries. Uaid’s nose was bleeding. The side of Kabot’s face was raw and abraded. By contrast, the statue looked much as it had the last time they had seen it, with one disturbing exception. Although the front of its “shirt” showed a tear, the large iron spike with which Firekeeper had stabbed it had completely vanished. Instead, around the edges of the wound was a dark orange-red stain, very like rust.

  Blind Seer said, “Kabot and Uaid are sorcerers both. They will not have iron on them. Iron is what you used to stop that thing last time.”

  “And I have iron with me now,” Firekeeper reminded him. Dreading a fresh encounter with this arcane monstrosity, she had visited the blacksmith before they left the Nexus Islands. Now she drew a cold-forged iron knife from a sheath she had threaded onto her belt alongside the one that held her Fang. This new blade was honed far sharper than the iron spike she’d been forced to use the last time.

  “I will distract the sorcerers,” Blind Seer said. “You deal with the statue.”

  As much as Firekeeper appreciated her partner’s confidence in her, she was not certain it was merited. Last time both of them had been necessary to subdue the thing. Briefly, she considered suggesting that they let Kabot and Uaid wear the statue down, or at least fight it until the sorcerers had exhausted themselves. Then, in a flash, she understood why Blind Seer was not willing to delay. Kabot’s pack possessed one highly potent artifact. They had every reason to believe he knew how to tap its latent mana. If he managed to get his hands on another…

  Worse, Blind Seer wore around his neck a third artifact. Worse yet, Laria was the prisoner of these would-be experts in blood magic, an art their own people held to be anathema. Humans liked taking hostages as a way to cripple their adversaries. Although Blind Seer and Firekeeper had sworn they would not be hostage one for the other, Laria had taken no such oath and merited their protection. This meant that Firekeeper and Blind Seer must deal with this situation before hostage taking became an option.

  “The statue must wait,” Firekeeper howled, leaping forward. “Laria is a greater danger to us and to herself.”

  Blind Seer’s agreement was given in a deep-throated howl that reverberated off the walls of the subterranean complex so that it sounded as if the full pack cried the trail. Firekeeper’s blood thrilled as she ran forward, muscles bunching so she might leap out and around the trio of combatants. She felt, rather than saw, that Farborn soared alongside her.

  Despite their desperate situation, Kabot and Uaid had momentarily frozen in visceral fear upon hearing the howling of wolves reverberating through the enclosed area, then again at the sight of Blind Seer charging forward, fangs bared in an impressive snarl.

  Firekeeper didn’t have time to luxuriate in the honest pleasure of seeing her partner instill terror. She had not forgotten that Kabot’s pack consisted of three, and that one of these was unaccounted for. Orienting by sound and smell as well as by sight, the wolf-woman took in her surroundings. A large room, without even a scrap of furniture. Indeed, were it not for the brick walls glimpsed here and there, the space could have been taken for a natural cavern. Even as Firekeeper unconsciously ascertained that there were no windows, no other doors, she located Laria.

  Wisely, the girl had distanced herself from the combat, shrinking back against a far rubble heap, one of the ribbons that tied off her braid wrapped around her fingers. Her golden-brown eyes were wide and watchful, but didn’t hold the least trace of terror. Indeed, upon hearing the howls, a smile began to spread over Laria’s face. She’d been disarmed, but otherwise seemed to have all her belongings. Leaping into the space between Daylily and Laria, Firekeeper motioned with the blade of her cold-forged iron knife.

  “Away from Laria,” she commanded. As always when she was more wolf than human, her voice came out low and hoarse. “This is iron. Your kind does not love iron.”

  Daylily’s eyes—a brilliant leaf green—narrowed, but blood-lore hungry though she might be, she was no fool. Spreading her arms wide in surrender, she stepped back, taking care not to do anything that Firekeeper might misinterpret as attack.

  “Laria, get your sword,” Firekeeper growled. “Has this one harmed you?”

  “No!” Laria replied with a rapidity that spoke volumes to the wolf-woman. Not only had Daylily not harmed her, Laria felt some gratitude toward the woman. Firekeeper smiled at Daylily, remembering perfectly well that humans often saw her smile as threatening. Laria came running back, strapping her sword belt around her waist, then drawing Volsyl as she skidded to a halt.

  Firekeeper nodded approval. “You and Farborn, guard this one. I go help Blind Seer. I would not like to bind this Daylily. If we cannot deal with the statue, she should be able to run.”

  “Sure,” Laria motioned with Volsyl as she spoke to Daylily. “Stand in front of me. Remember, I was raised among those who practiced the anathema art. I’ll know if you start a spell.”

  Farborn shrieked approval and dropped to take up a post on Laria’s left shoulder.

  Firekeeper paused long enough to ask Daylily one crucial question. “You give your parole?” She had learned the concept of making one’s own honor a prison, and tried to anticipate any loopholes. “If you not involve yourself in this fight or do us harm, after we will take time to listen to your side.”

  Daylily nodded stiffly, outwardly composed although her sweat reeked of fear. “I give my parole. Now go. Your wolf is in more danger than you know.”

  Firekeeper tilted her head, wishing she had time for more questions but, whatever it was that Daylily was trying to warn her about, there were problems enough. Blind Seer was not affected by iron as so many spellcasters were, but he carried none on him. Neither would Wythcombe, Ranz, or, probably, Arasan—although Firekeeper was not prepared to bet on that last, given the presence of Chsss. Only Firekeeper carried a weapon which could harm the living statue, and she knew that its heart was as vulnerable as that of a living creature.

  As she raced across the gritty floor toward the combatants, Firekeeper wondered why she felt something was misaligned. At a quick glance, the situation was as one would expect: Kabot and Uaid had their attention split between the statue and Blind Seer. Through the doorway, she could see Wythcombe, Ranz, and Arasan anxiously trying to figure out the best way to help without interfering with or harming the great grey wolf. The statue was moving with more agility than the last time. Did this mean it had been “awake” longer? It held its staff in a defensive pose, and was backing toward the side of the doorway, where a heap of loose dirt and rubble was still settling.

  Why did she feel as if something else was going on? Firekeeper glanced at Blind Seer hoping he would offer clarification, then noticed that he was digging his paws into the floor, as if trying to keep from being dragged forward. As she watched, she saw him plant his haunches firmly on the floor, while at the same time rearing his head back. The stance unsettlingly reminded her of a leashed dog straining against a collar, and brought a flash of unde
rstanding. Someone, something, was trying to remove Hohdoymin’s necklace. Lacking hands, unwilling to disarm himself by grabbing the necklace in his mouth, Blind Seer was doing what he could to keep his prize.

  For a fraction of a breath, Firekeeper considered asking one of their allies to grab hold of the necklace, but she remembered how Blind Seer had refused to give the thing to Wythcombe. Ranz would not be a good choice: not only was he also a spellcaster, he might give Wythcombe the necklace to win favor. And Arasan? Maybe Arasan, but never Chsss.

  Howling in the hope of disorienting their enemies, as well as to let Blind Seer know she was coming, Firekeeper sprinted over, straddled Blind Seer. Then refusing to admit that she feared what might happen if she did so, she laid her hands firmly on the multistranded cords of Hohdoymin’s necklace.

  IX

  “BLIND SEER!”

  Firekeeper’s howl lifted the wolf’s heart, for not only did that mean she was coming to his aid, it meant that Laria was safe. Blind Seer no longer doubted who came first in Firekeeper’s love, but he also knew Firekeeper would not abandon a helpless pup. His partner’s howl had not ceased to vibrate on the air when he felt her behind him, long legs over his barrel, clever hands reaching down to grab hold of Hohdoymin’s necklace.

  That the necklace—or rather one particular charm upon that necklace—was less than pleased, Blind Seer could not doubt. The scent of that displeasure made fresh skunk emission sweet by comparison, but Blind Seer did not have time to wonder what an unhappy artifact might do.

  Firekeeper unlooped the necklace from around Blind Seer’s throat, backing quickly so he could rise onto all four feet. Even the time for those few motions had been enough for the situation to change. Kabot was no fool. When Firekeeper had entered the fray, Kabot had realized that while two humans—assisted by the artifact that strained beneath his shirt—just might have been able to remove Hohdoymin’s necklace from Blind Seer’s custody, with the addition of Firekeeper and her iron blade, the equation had shifted against the Rhinadei rebels. Kabot spoke in hushed tones to Uaid, but he had not reckoned with a wolf’s sense of hearing, so both Blind Seer and Firekeeper heard every word.

  “We can’t deal with shapeshifters, but that statue, it looks as if it’s made from stone. Can your magic bind it or slow it?”

  Uaid replied, the doubt in his tone shifting to excitement. “Maybe… There’s something weirdly organic about the matrix but…”

  Kabot cut him off. “Then do it! Palvalkay may help me extract Xixavalkay. Then we’ll have both.”

  Blind Seer didn’t give them time to confer further. It would be wonderful if Ranz could seal the statue behind a wall of ice or even make the floor too slick for the humans to run upon, but Ranz could not make ice without water.

  As for Wythcombe… How he would act, or if he would act at all, was something Blind Seer did not try to predict. Where Kabot was concerned, Wythcombe was clearly deeply conflicted. Chsss? Best never to ask favors of that one.

  Blind Seer was gathering himself to spring upon Kabot when a flourish of metallic musical notes, each as distinct and pure as drops of water, echoed through the cavern. After one repetition of the initial phrase, they were joined by a clear voice weaving through the notes, song shaping a wordless counterpoint.

  Humans and wolves do not hear in the same range. Wolves hear more, both in higher and lower ranges, and this was doubtless what kept Blind Seer from being captured by Arasan’s music. Kabot and Uaid, even Firekeeper, slowed, as if the air around them had become dense and tacky. Then Kabot and Uaid stilled, dreaming on their feet. Firekeeper struggled as Blind Seer had seen her do when wrestling with a nightmare.

  Arasan always claimed that his gift was a minor one but, in this music, Blind Seer scented Chsss’s odor. At least this time, it seemed that the just-might-be-a-god had proven himself a faithful ally.

  Blind Seer did not pause to consider. He nipped Firekeeper on one buttock, the pain breaking her violently from the trance. Knowing they might have little time before Kabot and Uaid also broke loose, Blind Seer ran at the statue. Although unaffected by Arasan’s music, it was having problems of its own. The artifact that was its heart was straining to rejoin its siblings. The statue was using all its considerable strength to throw aside bits of rubble, like a rabbit frantically trying to dig a burrow.

  Even in the urgency of the moment, Blind Seer felt laughter bubble up. The statue was trying to rebury itself, hoping to make it impossible for any to reach its heart or for its heart to reach for another. The odor of a magical working billowed about it like fog. He envisioned the statue reburying itself, fusing the stone around it, rather as a box turtle pulled itself into its shell. He recalled how the iron nail Firekeeper had buried in the statue’s chest had been reduced to rust, and considered that if this thing could use magic to degrade iron, creating a stone shell might be simple.

  For a moment, Blind Seer was tempted to let the statue seal itself away, but he’d already seen that burial would not end the threat it offered. He must claim the prize hidden within its breast, even as he had Hohdoymin’s necklace. Then, with both of these in his keeping, and the statue hopefully inert, they could deal with Kabot.

  As he ran, Blind Seer stretched his ears, hoping to hear Wythcombe and Ranz taking advantage of Arasan’s song to subdue the Rhinadei rebels. Hearing nothing but the hypnotic rhythm of the wordless song, the wolf dreaded that Arasan had captured friend as well as foe. That would be very much like Chsss.

  Blind Seer wished he could share his conjectures with Firekeeper, but there was not time. He knew that Firekeeper trusted that if her chosen partner was running away from one enemy, toward another, he would have good reason. Such trust was a terrible burden. Worse, he could smell that she still carried Hohdoymin’s necklace on her, so she was bringing together two of these arcane powers. But maybe he could use that to their advantage…

  Blind Seer launched into a tremendous leap that carried him to where the moving statue swam into the loose rubble, pausing only to toss larger lumps of brick or stone out behind it. The material was not firmly packed, so the statue was having trouble shaping a proper burrow, but Blind Seer didn’t doubt that if it was given just a little more time, it would manage.

  But I’m not going to give it that time, he thought, flinging himself into the statue from the left. From their prior encounter, he knew the statue would not be quite as hard as stone, more like bags packed tightly with sand. Nonetheless, that was hard enough so that when he hit, he heard his breath explode from his lungs, felt the shock reverberate through his body. The moving statue teetered. Despite the throbbing pain caused by the first impact, Blind Seer rose on his hind legs and pushed. He and Firekeeper had often practiced how he might subdue a human without needing to bite that too delicate skin. His awareness of points of balance made the difference now.

  The statue crashed onto its back. Unlike what a human would have done, the statue did not try to cushion its fall, but fell as a tree would fall. Blind Seer flung himself across its legs, Firekeeper onto its chest, her legs spread so that she could use a knee to pin each arm. When she bent forward, the doubled disk charm on Hohdoymin’s necklace yearned toward the rust-edged gap on the statue’s chest. From that gap was emerging a disk made from sharp-edged crystals of translucent gold, silver, and copper. Minute sparks flickered across the disk’s middle where it had been broken, showing how crystal knit into crystal in a partial mend.

  Firekeeper angled the blade of the cold iron knife intending to slide it beneath the artifact, flip it loose, then grab it with her left hand. The extraction was proceeding quite neatly when Kabot let loose a scream of rawest fury and wheeled to face them, his hands outstretched, his gaze blank and insane.

  Had Kabot not been distracted by the need to assist Uaid, surely he never would have been entranced by the deceptively simple music that rose from one of those who stood among the flickering shadows on the far side of the newly opened doorway. At least that’s what he told
the Voice when it chided him.

  “And so that’s it?” Phiona said mockingly. “It’s Uaid’s fault? You’re going to just stand here and wait for that crazy woman and her giant dog to grab Xixavalkay, then take you all captive? Don’t look for Daylily to rescue you. She’s already been subdued.”

  Kabot actually had been waiting to see what Daylily would do. If she hadn’t been able to help, he’d been willing to be taken captive, because that would mean that the stone man had been dealt with by someone else. He’d figured that being a captive would put him in a position to lay his hands on all three threads at once. With Phiona’s laughter ringing in his ears, he couldn’t make this plan sound reasonable.

  Did Phiona put the next idea into his mind? Maybe, but his thoughts were so clouded by that music that he wasn’t certain who came up with the idea. He felt what he must to do, knew it was brutal, but knew he must win the day.

  Uaid stood next to Kabot, linked by the blood they’d shared. How easy to reach out, reverse the flow so that Uaid’s mana flowed into him. To use that mana to subdue Palvalkay where it rested in his pocket, to redirect Palvalkay’s yearning to go to where the other two threads were so that it tried to draw them toward him.

  Teyvalkay did not react to its sibling’s call, maybe because it was still bound into that necklace, but Xixavalkay, emerging from the statue’s chest, the matrix that had held it weakened by the cold iron of the crazy woman’s blade, rose of its own accord, then darted toward Kabot.

  Moving with more speed than Kabot would have thought possible for a human, Firekeeper’s hand darted after the fleeing artifact, but she failed to get a firm hold. Kabot grimaced in satisfaction. Just a moment more and..

  Seemingly from nowhere came a flash of motion as a small falcon pounced upon Xixavalkay as it might have a sparrow in flight. The falcon lacked the strength to counter the artifact’s forward motion, but it provided enough drag that on her next attempt Firekeeper grasped Xixavalkay between thumb and forefinger.