She awoke to a splitting head and the smell of roasting meat. The snap of the fire and the pitterpat of rain echoed through her head with devastating effect. She wanted to moan with the pain, but held herself still, cracking her eyes open enough to see she was in a cave. A man crouched before a campfire with what looked like a skewered rabbit held over the flame. He was completely bald, though fairly young, and his muscles bulged almost grotesquely. The man was huge, nearly a freak of nature. She examined him closely for several moments but didn’t move, not wanting to draw attention to herself. He said nothing, then caught her eyes with his own. They were an icy blue, so light as to be almost white.
Somehow he had known she was awake.
He spoke, his voice startling her into a jump. “Get a good looksee?” He chuckled. “I thank you for your kind gifts.” The man fingered the weather charm that now lay over his neck. “The sky doesn’t rain mud where I come from. It was getting rather annoying. Of course, the sky doesn’t send out much of anything there.” The man’s grin was toothy and too big for his face, much like that of a cat taunting its prey. “The horse will be a nice addition as well. Poor Neemus was getting a little worn out from all the travel.” Ember glanced past his bald head to see Brownie staked to the ground just outside the small cave.
She had no idea where she was. The hills surrounding Karsholm were dotted with caves, she knew, as she’d explored a good many of them with her stepbrothers over the years, but this one was unfamiliar.
Ember didn’t say anything. She tried to sit up, but couldn’t move. Her hands and feet were shackled in front of her and staked to the ground just like her horse, though how the man had put a stake in the rocky ground of a cave, she didn’t know. She lay in a puddle, just far enough away from the fire to be cold. She shivered.
The man noticed and grinned his toothy grin once more. “Get used to it—you’re not going anywhere. The mistress wants to see you. She’s been looking for you a very long time.” He glanced at her hands. “You’re a little young for tattoos, aren’t you? I thought that was a Ketahean tradition. I’ve not seen many around here.” Ember didn’t answer. She wouldn’t have if she could, but at the moment, her heart raced, her fear thick and choking.
The big man snorted and rolled his eyes at her, obviously amused by her stubborn silence. It only made her mad. She struggled against the chains that held her fast, but she was stuck good and solid. If only she could change the metal like she had changed her dress, maybe she could escape. She closed her eyes and concentrated. The image of chain turning to water was so brilliant in her mind, she could almost feel it happening. There was a build-up, a burning in her hands where the cuffs had become one with her skin, but just as she felt something was about to happen, the power trickled away to nothing—like a hole in a bucket.
The bald man chuckled, a very satisfied, smirky sound that set Ember’s teeth on edge. “It won’t work, Shandae. The chains are spelled.”
“How do you know my name? And who are you?”
The man shrugged. “Name’s Ian. Been looking for you for a long time. We knew who you were, but not who you’d become. It wasn’t until this afternoon that I finally zeroed in on Karsholm. You finally came into your power, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question, and it chilled Ember’s stomach that he knew so much about her. She’d escaped notice all these years, and now Ian just happened to be close enough to sense the change when it came. Couldn’t it have waited just one day? One more day and she would have been with Ezeker, one of the most powerful mages in the country, safe on the road to Javak, surrounded by an armed guard. One day more and she could have seen her dream fulfilled of reaching the mage trials.
Instead she had the bitter taste of defeat.
Ember let her head relax against the ground, wishing with all her heart she could just melt into it, disappear as if she’d never been. Suddenly the cold stone grasped Ember’s ear as if it had sunk into mud, and she gasped, jerking upright, or at least as upright as she could with the chains holding her down. They dug painfully at her wrists.
Ian looked at her and quirked an eyebrow, turning his rabbit in the fire. Hot grease dripped to sizzle in the flames. A log popped as he spoke. “What, a mousie get you? Afraid of the dark? I’d have thought the wolfchild would be a better opponent than this. The Guardians sure didn’t choose well this time around, now, did they?”
He continued to chuckle to himself as Ember digested this new information. Wolfchild? Guardians? At least he hadn’t realized why she had really gasped. She could live with him thinking she was afraid of mice.
For the first time since she’d awakened, Ember felt a small flicker of hope. She hadn’t been able to affect the chain, but she had been able to affect her own body by wishing she could disappear. She didn’t dare sink into the stone entirely—it might never let her go, but if she could change such a small thing as her ear to penetrate the ground, perhaps she could change herself enough to get away from this man.
A ghostly white bird flitted across the cave opening and settled on Brownie’s rump. It screeched, almost sounding angry. The man looked up, then turned back to his dinner. The bird called again, and Ember realized with a start it was the same hawk she’d seen twice that day already. The bird caught her eye and sounded one last time. Ember was chilled to hear another voice join in as the hawk trailed off—a wolf howl, and close by, she was sure.
Brownie pulled against the stake and screamed.
“What . . . ?” Her kidnapper dropped his rabbit skewer and started for the cave entrance as the howling grew in volume, another wolf joining the first. Brownie pulled steadily at her tether now, Ian nearly hanging on her reins trying to hold her. The other horse started to panic as well, and Ian seemed to forget Ember in the excitement.
Now was her chance. The wolves had given her an idea, and Ember focused all her thoughts and energy into the image that had come to her. The dress and her ear had been completely accidental, but now she put all her energy into hearing the sounds of the wolves and yearned with all her heart to jointhem.
She had watched a wolf one night as she sat on the roof, its white coat gleaming in the darkness, and now as she lay there on the cold stone, she begged her body to become one. It was almost easy, she found, as if she had discovered a second form that her body knew more intimately than she knew herself.
It was strange, feeling her body shrink and mold, her jaw expanding out from her face and her limbs thinning and straightening. It hurt, there was no denying that, but it was tolerable until a tail burst from her back-side. That hurt like nothing else. It took her breath away. But by the time she became aware of herself again, the transformation was complete. In a matter of seconds, she went from being chained and bound to the floor to shaking her white fur and scrambling out of the restraints. She tried to shake off what appeared to be chains still attached to her fur, but then realized she was seeing the shape and shadow of the bracelets that had embedded into her skin that morning. Evidently, her shift into wolf shape wouldn’t take away the gray tattoos, even when in fur. She wondered if the gray pendant still marked her sternum. It didn’t matter at the moment. She had to get away while Ian was distracted. She wobbled for a moment, trying to get used to the balance of four feet and a tail, but the adjustment came quickly, and she darted toward the cave entrance.
Ian yelled at her and let go of the horses to try to grab her. The white hawk swooped at his head, distracting him long enough for Ember to streak past. Ember was clumsy at first, trying to coordinate front and back legs. She tripped several times before she found her balance and rhythm, then she took off on all fours, the wind ruffling her fur, her nose assaulted by scents she had never noticed before, her eyes finally able to see in the near dark as she darted in and out among the trees toward whatever safety she could find. The hawk screeched from up ahead, and Ember could see its glowing form flowing easily through the forest. Ian thundered through the woods behind her, much faster than she’d thought possible withou
t a horse to carry him, but he wasn’t fast enough to catch up with her. She was the wind riding through the forest, the shine of moonlight on a midnight pool.
She was wolf.
The wolves called again, and this time she not only heard, but understood. "Come run with us. Join us, wolfchild!"
One by one, the lupines darted out from amongst the trees and surrounded her, running with her in joy, guarding, guiding, strengthening her with the pack. A huge white wolf came through the group to her side, his tongue lolling out like an oversized puppy, though he was anything but. "Follow us to safety, wolfchild. We have much on which to speak."
The Sapphire Flute: Book 1 of The Wolfchild Saga Page 15