Master Wolf

by Rose Estes

  “Tam! To me, Tam. Follow!” he screamed without looking back, praying that for once in his life, Tam would obey.

  He heard the scamper of wolf claws on the floor behind him and, praying to deities long ignored, he raced into the gloom of the ancient amphitheater with the agonized screams of the hulk echoing around them.

  The deities must have been amused and taken pity on him, for when he finally brought the roan to a halt and loosened his desperate hold on Hornsbuck’s hair, there was no sound of pursuit.

  “Hornsbuck?” said Mika, dismounting and staring up into the older man’s eyes. But there was no answer. Hornsbuck’s eyes, always so quick to spot danger or foolery, were open wide and gazing straight ahead, all signs of intelligence gone. A thin line of spittle drooled from the corner of his open mouth.

  RedTail squirmed in Hornsbuck’s arms, struggling to free himself from the tight embrace that pinned him to the nomad’s chest.

  Mika crouched at Hornsbuck’s feet and took Red-Tail’s chunky head between his hands, staring into the wolf’s gold eyes in the light of the torch.

  “RedTail, have I ever told you what a wonderful beast you are?” said Mika. RedTail looked at him with the same kind of derisive gaze that Mika was accustomed to seeing on Hornsbuck’s face.

  “And a wonderful wolf like you could help us out of this mess. I’d be willing to bet that you know the way out of here just as well as Hornsbuck, if not better. In fact, I’d be willing to bet a nice, fat, juicy . . . NO! Make that TWO nice, fat, juicy bucks, which I personally will kill, that you can show us the way out.

  “All of us are counting on you, RedTail: me, Hornsbuck, the princess, and your old pal, Tam. You wouldn’t want us to die down here, would you?”

  RedTail’s tongue lolled out of his mouth and Mika stifled an impulse to boot the beast. Calming himself, he continued.

  “Look, RedTail, old pal, this is all your fault in a way. Yours and Tam’s. If you’d come when we called you, Hornsbuck would be all right now and we’d be on our way. But you two wanted to stay and fight. So why don’t you just cut out this nonsense and get us the hell out of here, ‘cause if you don’t I’m going to kick you from here to Sunsebb!”

  RedTail gazed up at Mika as though calculating, then, twisting his head free, stood next to Hornsbuck and sniffed him thoroughly. Rising up on his hind legs, he poked his muzzle into Hornsbuck’s chin and nudged the man hard several times. Hornsbuck rocked on his feet and Mika took the torch from his hand and steadied him so that he didn’t fall over.

  RedTail whined plaintively and dropped to the ground. He looked up at Mika, all humor gone from his eyes, then turned and set off at a steady lope.

  Chapter 20

  TIME PASSED. ENDLESSLY. Tunnels passed. To their left. To their right. Up. Down. And sometimes sideways. RedTail led and Mika followed.

  The passage grew more and more elaborate once they left the great hall. The walls were smooth dressed stone or inlaid with mosaics that glittered in the torchlight. Intersecting passageways were cause for high vaulting ribbed ceilings and elaborate columns and pillars with delicate carvings that Mika did not care to examine.

  It was an extraordinary, fascinating place, rich with the artifacts of some bygone culture. But Mika was not interested in architecture, nor in solving the mystery of the vanished inhabitants. All he cared about was getting out.

  The meat was beginning to go rancid; grass, water, and wood for the torches were nearly depleted. Mika and TamTur were exhausted and frightened. Hornsbuck still drooled and the princess still slept, dirty and uncombed, her dress hanging about her in tattered disarray.

  “Man the barricades!” shouted Hornsbuck, his mind obviously drifting back to some ancient battle. Mika ignored the outburst, plodding stolidly ahead through the dark corridor, trying to believe that the wolf really knew where he was going and that they would not die down here in the dark, surrounded by cold stone.

  The first time Hornsbuck spoke after the encounter with the umber hulk, Mika had rushed to his side, thinking that perhaps the older man had shaken off the effects of the spell. But it had not been so. “Flay him alive! Boil the rascal in oil!” he commanded, ordering unseen underlings to do his bidding.

  Since that moment, Hornsbuck was alternately silent and staring, or loudly vocal, reliving much of his life in disjointed bits and pieces. He raved and hollered, chuckled and cajoled, and gave orders that went unanswered. But the worst of it was that he mistook Mika for someone named Lotus Blossom and frequently sought to enfold him in his hairy embrace. After the first mustachioed kiss, Mika was careful not to be taken unawares and made certain that Hornsbuck walked behind the roan.

  Perhaps it is true that the gods protect fools and small children because the party met nothing more fearful during the rest of their journey than one measly foot-long centipede which quickly scurried out of their way.

  Mika thought his eyes or the torch were failing when everything suddenly paled to grey. Slowly he realized that the passage had been rising for some time and that it was daylight, blessed daylight, filtering down through the tunnel ahead.

  Mika’s step quickened as he hurried up the passage, while Hornsbuck bellowed out some fragment of a nightmare.

  “Greed! Sloth! Envy! Avarice! Hatred! Deceit! War! Obsession!” roared Hornsbuck, a litany of all the evils of the world spewing from his mouth like stones from a sling.

  “Keep it down, Hornsbuck,” said Mika. “No telling what’s waiting out there.”

  “Oppression! Wickedness! Pain!” hollered Hornsbuck, and Mika shook his head and gave up, concentrating on the growing light ahead of him.

  The roan snorted happily and trotted up the last few feet of the passage, the light outlining his body in a shimmering aura. RedTail and TamTur followed, tails curled high above their backs.

  Mika stood at the mouth of the passage and leaned against the marble pillar that flanked it. He rested his forehead against the cool stone, closing his eyes against the bright sunlight that filtered down in dust-filled beams from the narrow openings that circled the columned dome high above his head.

  In his heart he gave thanks to the Great She Wolf for bringing him out of the dark passageways. Then he heard the roan neigh and stamp his feet in alarm and Tam growl low in his throat.

  Danger! Mika lifted his head quickly and moved forward into the room, squinting his eyes against the bright light. He stepped over the hunks of broken stone that littered the floor, trying to focus. He drew his sword and blinked his watering eyes. Behind him, he heard Hornsbuck trudge into the room and stop.

  “I thank you for bringing me the princess,” said a creaky old voice, somewhere off to his left. Mika crouched low and whirled, facing the direction the voice had come from, holding his sword out in front of him and sweeping it back and forth.

  “Put down the sword like a good lad,” the voice said soothingly. “I know you don’t want me to hurt you again.”

  Mika blinked his eyes furiously and things began to come into focus. Light and dark separated, flowed together, blurred, and then separated once again.

  Outlined in the bright sunlight, dust motes raining softly on his shoulders, stood a small dark figure holding the horse’s reins. The sunlight was so beautiful, the voice so gentle. And Mika was tired. Tired of danger. Tired of fighting. Tired of being afraid. All he wanted was for things to go back the way they had been, to be normal again. For one brief moment, his sword arm wavered, and he was sorely tempted to do as he was told.

  But the roan had no such problems. His ears were plastered flat against his head and his eyes rolled wildly. His teeth were bared in a square-toothed grimace, and his breathing was harsh and rattled in his throat. His legs were stiff and braced hard against the pull of the bridle.

  The wolves were in total agreement with the horse. Tam and RedTail circled the small dark figure, their tails curled above their backs and their ears twitched forward, alert, watchful.

  Abruptly, Mika straightened u
p, alert now to the danger. He had no need to go closer. He knew who the old man was.

  “I see you recognize me,” said the little old man, his features slowly coming into focus. Mika shuddered and took a step backward.

  “You have no reason to fear me,” said the old man, his body still shrouded by the long, voluminous cape. “I have what I want now. Before, you made the mistake of coming between me and that which I sought. Now, thanks to your efforts, I have my prize.”

  “You mean the princess?” Mika blurted out in puzzlement. “Why would you want the princess?”

  “It’s a long story,” said the old man with a dry chuckle. “A very long story. But since you’ve brought her to me, I suppose an explanation is the least I can offer.”

  “Lies! Oppression! Murder!” ranted Hornsbuck.

  “Your friend understands,” said the old man, nodding toward Hornsbuck, an amused look flitting across his withered face.

  “This is my temple,” he said, gesturing around him at the ruined building with a bony hand. “Or what little remains of it.”

  “There,” he said, pointing at a massive block of marble that had broken in two and fallen on its side, “was the altar. Sacrifices were laid on its surface, and the floor ran deep with their blood.

  “These walls,” he said, waving around the apse with his bony hands, “were filled with those who worshipped me and did homage in my name in honor or in fear.

  “Once, this land was nearly mine. I held it in thrall and squeezed it tight. Nearly, nearly, was it mine. Then, other forces rose up, conspired against me and broke my hold, but never, never have I forgotten. I pledged that I would return and take back what is mine. And you, lad, have given me, this day, the instrument of power,” the old man said with a trembling voice as flecks of spittle sprayed from his mouth and fell to the dusty floor with a soft hiss.

  “What are you talking about?” asked Mika, beginning to wonder if the little man had taken leave of his senses. Magic-user he might be, but the Great She Wolf knew that the cities were crawling with hundreds of old has-beens who bored passersby with imagined tales of their days of glory.

  “You do not recognize me in this old and tired body,” said the old man. “But perhaps you would know me by another name.”

  “And what would that be?” asked Mika, casually resting the point of his sword on the ground.

  “Some know me as Iuz,” said the old man, a harsh light glittering in his eyes.

  Mika’s blood ran cold.

  “That is not a name one uses lightly in these parts,” Mika said sharply.

  “Well, I’m pleased to hear that,” said the old man in a pleasant tone as though he were discussing the weather. Then, still smiling gently, he drew the roan closer and began to fumble with the bonds that held the princess.

  “Death! Destruction! Pestilence!” thundered Hornsbuck as he turned round and round, holding up his arms and staring up at the broken dome.

  “Leave her alone, old man!” cried Mika, lifting his sword once more. “Take your hands off her and stand back. I will listen to no more of your nonsense, and do not think to stun me again. I will slice you through with my blade before you can say the words.”

  “You do not believe me,” the old man said sadly as he turned around and gazed at Mika. His expression was mournful as though Mika were a prize pupil who had suddenly fallen stupid.

  “Perhaps you would recognize me if I looked different. Like this, perhaps.” And the old man’s body began to change. His back humped under the dark cape and then it seemed to fill out, bulging strangely in odd places.

  Then the cape fell away from his head and the skull itself began to twist and move as though it were made of soft clay and being shaped by an unseen hand.

  The skull lost what few threads of hair it possessed and swelled to three times greater in size. The forehead bulged grotesquely and eyebrows, great bushy red eyebrows, pushed through the skin and grew before Mika’s startled eyes.

  Red eyes. Red, the color of warm blood, with no pupils, looked out at Mika and seemed to gleam with an evil light.

  The withered cheeks grew fat, the deep wrinkles smoothing away as though they had never been. The nose became bulbous and misshapen, and a gold stud was fixed in each nostril. The mouth formed wide and cruel and the lips fleshy and somehow obscene. The ears were mere slits in the sides of the skull.

  The cape fell to the ground as the man-thing grew, revealing an immense broad-chested, round-bellied body, thick with layer upon layer of fat.

  Its arms and legs were massive, smooth of skin and hairless and red. The entire monstrous manifestation was red. The red of a lobster boiled in seawater.

  The man-thing continued to grow, becoming taller and taller and wider and wider till it towered over Mika, more than seven feet tall and four times his weight. And it wore nothing but an evil smile.

  The horrible thing stood before Mika clasping the princess against its ugly body like some tiny toy. Mika could hardly bear to look; it was a sacrilege just watching the foul thing touch her.

  The dome of the temple seemed to whirl around Mika’s head and he closed his eyes to stop the giddy sensation. His heart hammered against his ribs, and his fear was like the taste of cold iron in his mouth. He shivered and his hands could barely grip the handle of his sword. The roan screamed, wheeled, and ran from the frightful apparition. Mika heard Tam and RedTail whine and slink away and wished that he could do the same.

  “Do you believe me now?” thundered the awful red demon.

  “I believe,” whispered Mika with his head bowed, daring to wonder if there was any hope of escape. Opening his eyes, he saw the demon’s hand reaching out for him, its long fingers twitching as though they already held him in their grasp.

  “Wait!” cried Mika, shrinking back out of reach, totally terrified. He knew that he would not survive if ever the creature touched him.

  “Wait!” he croaked through his fear-clenched throat. “Don’t kill me! You can’t kill someone who’s done you a favor. Can you?”

  “Of course I can,” chuckled the demon, smiling widely, exposing his long sharp fangs. “I’ve done so many times. But perhaps it would be more fitting if we permitted the princess to reward you herself. Yes, I think I would enjoy that more.” And gesturing with his long fingers, waving them over her head in strange arcane moves, the monster muttered soft words beneath his breath and Mika saw the princess stir. A lump filled his throat. He had envisioned this moment many times, but never had he pictured it happening like this.

  One grubby slender hand trembled and lifted shakily to press against the tattered silk-clad breast. The magnificent bosom rose and fell, taking in great gulps of air, and her eyelids fluttered and then opened.

  Mika recoiled in shock! Peering at him groggily through a dirty tangle of thick black curls was one brilliant blue eye and one as green as the grass of spring!

  “I shall allow the princess herself to bestow your reward,” said the demon. Then, before Mika’s bewildered eyes, the monster began to shrink and whither, until it was once more the same wizened old ugly man in the voluminous black cape.

  The princess leaned against him, seemingly too weak to stand alone and, as yet, totally uncomprehending.

  The old man gestured with his frail, thickly veined hand, and the princess’s hand rose and pointed at Mika.

  Mike knew without a doubt that something terrible was about to happen.

  “Wait! Wait! Stop!” he yelled. “I don’t understand. What’s happening? Who are you? All right, I saw some horrible apparition. Something big and red, but maybe it was all illusion, it doesn’t prove that you’re Iuz.

  “Why would Iuz need to kidnap a princess? None of this makes sense. I don’t believe you’re Iuz at all. I think you’re just some old has-been magic-user. You can do some illusion and some spells and you can kill me, but you’re not Iuz.”

  Mike held his breath as he waited for the old man to respond. In his heart he was not at all cert
ain that the old man was not exactly whom he claimed to be. But if he could get the old man talking, he might be able to think of a way to escape what now seemed to be certain death.

  “You have touched on more of the truth than you know,” sighed the old man and he seemed to stagger off balance for a minute as the princess leaned on him more heavily.

  The old man fixed Mika with a baleful eye and his voice rose in cold fury. “I am Iuz! This, this old tired body is that which I have inhabited on this plane of existence for more years than I can number. It is a tired body, no longer strengthened by the blood and spirits of sacrifice. Soon, unless I take steps to prevent it, this body will die, and I will have no access to this material plane for more than a century.

  “I have bided my time in the planes of other existence, in other forms of being, one of which you have just witnessed, searching for that which could return me to strength and power. And at last I found it.

  “The answer is twofold. First there is the gem which you know as dramadine.

  “Dramadine is a rare gem, occurring but seldom in nature, and it has never been replicated by man or mage. As you have heard, it heightens one’s powers to the greatest potential. Such a gem would strengthen me and make me invincible.

  “But it is not the gem alone I desire, for the princess herself is a conduit of power; her eyes, as you have no doubt noticed, give evidence of the strength hidden within.”

  “But how can you use her power?” asked Mika, noticing with a quickening of pulse and a thread of hope that the princess was standing on her own feet, no longer leaning against the old man, and her eyes seemed to be focusing more clearly. If only he could keep the old man talking until she regained her senses! If she heard what he was saying, she could not fail to recognize their danger. Maybe she would help Mika in some way, or at the very least, allow him the opportunity to escape.