A Wolf Story

by James Byron Huggins

  "A dozen guards," Gianavel said quietly. "We must strike quickly."

  Aramus nodded, his blood thrilling for the fight.

  "Kaleel will join us," he whispered.

  "Good," replied Gianavel. "We'll need his strength."

  Vengeful howls were booming along the length and breadth of the Abyss, and Gianavel suddenly raised his head, following the sounds before looking at Aramus again.

  "They know where we are," he snarled. "They're coming for us. We don't have any more time."

  Aramus nodded and looked at Windgate. "Get ready to run."

  "Don't worry," whispered the hare.

  Father and son locked eyes for a breath, and even in the tension of that moment, with dark forces closing upon them, Gianavel's affection blazed through his heated gray gaze.

  "There's no one I would rather have beside me," the old wolf said softly.

  Aramus's heart was racing, fiercely preparing his body for combat. But still, a flood of emotion welled within him at his father's words. He smiled at the old wolf, nodding, and moved beside his father as they rounded the corner.

  Roaring, they rushed the guards who turned, snarling, against them. Gianavel collided against a great black form, driving the creature back before his terrifying aspect. And Aramus crashed full into the fray, shouting to Kaleel.

  For a flashing instant the bear reeled, shocked, on hind legs, as if unable to comprehend the moment.

  Then with a vengeful roar he burst forth from the chamber and into the corridor with sweeping blows.

  Feeling alone and abandoned, the bear's fighting instinct had abated in the presence of the surrounding wolves. But now, with friends beside him and doom forestalled, his volcanic strength was again ignited to erupt into the hallway in a terrifying display of savage power.

  In moments, three of the dark shapes lay writhing on the floor. And the rest, terrified that they had been met with equal force, turned and fled, their angry cries following them down the long corridor.

  Even as the dark wolves retreated, Aramus spun toward Kaleel. "We've got to hurry!" he shouted above the resounding, retreating howls.

  "Where is Incomel?" roared Kaleel, froth scattering with the terrible words. "Where is Incomel? He shall pay for my father's blood!"

  "He's dead!" shouted Aramus, trying to still Kaleel's fighting madness.

  "Incomel!" Kaleel roared. "Where is Incomel?"

  Aramus leapt directly in front of the bear and shouted into his face.

  "Kaleel! He's dead! He's dead!"

  Slowly, the dark eyes blinked at Aramus, even as the bear swayed from side to side. And Aramus could see that his friend was shocked and angry at the news, frustrated that his suicidal energy to face Incomel in combat once again could not be released.

  "We have to get out here!" Aramus continued. "Corbis is still alive, and he'll kill us all! We have to escape while we can! To fight is to die. We can't defeat them."

  Kaleel's glaring gaze shifted at shadows, searching for something upon which he could unleash his wrath. Then, with a trembling effort, Aramus saw him attempting to still the rage within. Shaking, the bear turned toward Gianavel, who was staring intently down the corridor.

  "This is my father," Aramus whispered. "Now, let's get out of here. There are too many of them to fight."

  His anger slightly abated, Kaleel accepted the words without question, seeming to know already that the old gray wolf bore him no harm. He nodded his head.

  "This way!" shouted Windgate, poised in an empty hallway. "This will take us out!"

  Kaleel was instantly beside Aramus, and seemed neither to notice nor to care about the strange alliance with the hare.

  Windgate, leading the escape, fairly flew down the subterranean halls, moving with expert skill over jagged rock and darkened pit as quickly as wolf ever could in the close confines of the corridor.

  Racing against the doom descending upon them, the four fled through a chamber that led off into a dozen connecting corridors. Windgate instantly selected a sloping tunnel that ran uphill, drawing wind from the mountain. But howls were fast closing upon them, wolves cutting off every avenue of escape. And as they sped into another shadowy chamber, Windgate slid to a halt, livid, as the tunnel before them suddenly echoed with fiendish cries.

  "They've closed it off!" he yelled, turning toward them. "We can't get out!"

  Aramus whirled, snarling, as wolves exploded into the chamber they had just exited, thundering into the distant room in a roaring storm of murderous rage.

  "Follow me!" Gianavel shouted above the din, charging down another hall.

  Without hesitation they closed behind the old wolf. Aramus pulled alongside his father, Kaleel behind, with Windgate bounding quickly at the back. And then Aramus heard a deafening chorus coming toward them from the opposite end of the tunnel, howls that seemed to sense their approach, despising their strength.

  "They're coming straight for us!" Aramus yelled.

  Gianavel's gray eyes blazed, and his words were swallowed by the wind that swept across them. "They're trying to block all the tunnels that lead to the outside! We have to break through them!"

  Aramus stretched out his stride, and together father and son flew forward, shoulder to shoulder, down the hall. While from the other end of the corridor a demonic horde emerged hauntingly from the gloom, red eyes blazing and separated fangs streaming froth, hurtling toward them with hungry cries.

  Gianavel roared defiantly and threw himself forward with a speed that left Aramus back a stride. But even as the old wolf surged ahead, Kaleel swept up to take his place, charging alongside Aramus's silver mane. And with Gianavel leading the thunderous wedge, they collided against the onrushing pack.

  Instantly the corridor exploded in a maelstrom of roars and blows that raged wildly from narrow wall to narrow wall. Aramus struck again and again, submerged in dark forms that slashed and struck against him in return. But Aramus had been lifted beyond pain, beyond fear, and he attacked anything that rose against him, drawing blood and tearing away flesh, lost in the fury of wounds delivered and wounds received.

  And Gianavel, unleashing the full fury of his fighting rage, struck but once at a dark wolf before the gray one whirled, hurling the dying shape to the dust. No longer restrained by the spirit within, but compelled to unleash his wrath upon those who had provoked that wrath, the old wolf was the image of death, destroying with cold skill while the gray eyes blazed forth a terrifying aspect of purpose. And none who rose against him lived to retreat.

  But even as Aramus was cascaded with blows and mortally locked with a monstrous black shape, he glimpsed Kaleel also wreaking a savage score. The bear seemed gigantic in the gloom, roaring and striking and tearing with wide, killing swipes of the heavy paws that shattered flesh and bone alike. And almost before Aramus realized what had happened, they had burst through, scattering demonic shapes wildly before their combined wrath.

  Burning with the exhausting effort of their escape, they staggered past the shattered line, down the narrow corridor, and toward the chamber that loomed beyond.

  "Wait!" screamed Aramus, and Gianavel cast a frantic look back. "Where's Windgate?"

  "I'm here!" the hare shouted excitedly, far ahead of where they stood. Aramus whirled, too fatigued and enraged from combat to imagine how the hare had slid through the wildly chaotic conflict. He leaped up to Windgate and, without conscious effort or thought, leaned down to touch the small form with his nose.

  "Not again," Aramus whispered, more to himself than to his newfound friend. "Not again ..."

  Silver eyes gazed into brown, and Windgate smiled. And together they turned, emerging from the corridor into a cavern.

  Aramus knew instantly where he was, and his eyes locked on the granite throne of Corbis that dominated the Abyss. It was empty. And across the huge chamber Aramus saw the shadowed entrance of the tunnel that led to the icy slope and the path down the mountain. He turned to his father.

  "That's the tunnel t
hat leads outside!"

  Gianavel cast an electrified glance at the entrance before turning blazing eyes toward the corridor they had fled. Howls left behind when they burst through the dark wolves had turned and were rapidly converging upon the main hall.

  "We'll fight them on the ice!" the old wolf snarled, his voice charged with rage. "Everybody get outside!"

  As one they turned, hearing the gathering cries closing quickly upon the hall, but seeing the way clear to escape. And then it was there.

  A prehistoric roar thundered across them as the Beast emerged, demonic jaws distended, from the shadows beside the tunnel, the tunnel that had promised escape and freedom, yet which now promised only a cruel and painful death.

  Monolithic, cloaked in darkness, Corbis towered in the Abyss, baleful eyes glaring upon them with a wrath lost to the Earth since the beginning of time. And for a moment, as they stood frozen in the spectral scene, Aramus saw the bear as more than flesh. It was the Dark Lord Incarnate, that Dragon of Ancient Lore, the Destroyer of Worlds.

  *

  fourteen

  Corbis growled, trembling rock deep into the mountain and sending a heated wave of concentrated hate to the cavernous walls, charging the atmosphere until the air vibrated with murderous intent.

  Gianavel alone was undaunted and returned a savage snarl, fully into the face of the Beast. And Aramus, awakened from his shock by his father's stance, was instantly beside the old wolf, fangs clicking fiendishly in defiance.

  Corbis glared upon them, cold and overpowering, the proud image of primeval might. Then the hateful gaze blazed with scornful mirth as dark wolves suddenly swept in from the myriad corridors, thronging the Abyss.

  Instantly Gianavel and Aramus were back to back, with Kaleel turning also to face outward against their encircling foes. And Windgate fell to the middle of the trio, helpless against such powerful beasts.

  A cacophony of roars and screams thundered across the Abyss as the opposing forces waged a ghostly war of attacks thrown and attacks withdrawn, with never fang meeting flesh.

  Gianavel's bristling presence threw their attackers back a wide space. For even though the dark horde knew that, in force, they could drag the old wolf to the ground, they also knew that the first to touch that gray shape would surely die.

  Aramus imitated his father, learning breath by breath how to stand in such a fight. And Kaleel repeatedly struck at elusive shapes that leapt in and out, reluctant to receive the impact of those crushing paws. For a spellbinding moment the battle raged until a thunderous command shattered the chaos.

  "Hold!" roared Corbis.

  Instantly the dark wolves responded to the brutal voice, obediently falling back, tension slowly fading from the snarling faces. And after a moment the surrounded servants of the Lightmaker stood within a narrow gap of safety, clear to turn their attention from the wolves to the Beast that commanded them.

  "At last we meet ... the great Gianavel!" Corbis growled, breathless. "I am ... amazed ... that you have survived so long. Speak with me, old wolf, before I destroy you! Make me afraid! Reveal to me the strength that makes proud Incomel tremble!"

  Gianavel turned his dauntless head toward Corbis. Yet the old wolf did not speak, his entire aspect smoldering with an intensity of wrath that rendered him speechless while simultaneously communicating an unconquerable resistance. And then slowly, with a rising control, Gianavel's electrifying rage seemed to lessen, calmed by the spirit that never lost dominion over that disciplined flesh. And the gray eyes gazed upon the Beast, measuring something, some argument to come, seeming to know already the direction of words yet unspoken and perceiving the bitter outcome.

  Gianavel's stance was as solid as his words.

  "Incomel feared me because he knew the spirit within me proclaimed his doom," he growled. "As it proclaims yours."

  Visibly moved in his dark aspect, Corbis glared upon them. The Beast seemed to search Gianavel's words, and the malevolent gaze wavered, as if beholding something beyond the Abyss.

  "Can it be?" whispered Corbis, shaken. "Incomel ... destroyed?"

  Gianavel nodded, the gray face stern. "Incomel is dead," he said coldly. "And he was not cast down by flesh. It was the one least in strength who lured the lion to his doom."

  Corbis focused scornfully upon Windgate.

  "O ... most horrible," the Beast whispered. "The weak have destroyed the strong."

  Gianavel's quiet voice rang unnaturally clear into every corner of the cavern.

  "As it was meant to be, Corbis. And it was not mortal strength that defeated the lion. It was the power of the Lightmaker that delivered his doom. For your evil has caught up to you, Beast. Despite our weakness and your great strength, I proclaim to you that, from this night forward, the Dark Council will terrify no more. Even tonight, in this very hour, you yourself will be destroyed, struck down by the wrath of God."

  Corbis's dark gaze clouded, as with a gathering thunderstorm. And a silent rage danced like crimson flames in the hateful eyes. Imperceptibly, the colossus crouched, a visible strength building volcanically in its enormous form.

  Soundlessly, from the shadow of the giant bear, Baalkor stalked forth, hideous head lowered and murderous gaze burning red in the gloom. As ferocious, as horrible as before, Baalkor fixed a hungry stare upon Aramus and separated its savage fangs, smiling.

  Even as he caught sight of the dark wolf, Aramus snarled, mane bristling. And in a defiant struggle they tested strength of soul and spirit, growls vibrating the granite floor that stretched between them.

  Aramus realized, even as he reacted, that he was no longer afraid of the dark wolf. And he struggled not to leap forward into battle, knowing that he should not move until his father moved. For wisdom must lead, not strength. And with the thought he began to still his growl, slowing the shuddering vibrations until he stood again in silence, his eyes locked against Baalkor's.

  Corbis ignored the deadly tension, continuing to glare balefully upon Gianavel.

  "Strength is on our side, old wolf," he growled. "Your God has forsaken you!"

  Gianavel frowned at the Beast.

  "We will see who is forsaken," he said.

  "Your God has forsaken you!" roared Corbis, stepping forward. "What do you see, Gianavel? Tell me what you see! You are surrounded. There is no one to defend you against my strength. The Lightmaker is not here! He is not here because your heart is evil! Yes, Gianavel, you are evil! Behold, old wolf! Behold the darkness that rules your heart! Behold the power of the Dark Lord!"

  Corbis's incarnate power swept across the Abyss, and the darkness wavered, trembling with the force unleashed within. The shadows moved, condensing about Gianavel, shrouding him in darkness, focusing the full persuasive power of its hellish intensity upon the great gray wolf.

  Aramus watched as Corbis swayed in the gloom, his dark soul becoming one with the otherworldly force that descended upon his father.

  Gianavel stood motionless, the gray face unreadable, holding Corbis's demonic gaze. Then, still glaring at the Beast, the great wolf lowered his head, and it seemed as if a mortal cloak suddenly fell away, revealing an awesome and unearthly presence, beyond the world's power to defy or destroy. Instantly the darkness surrounding the old wolf faded, fleeing into the shadows of the Abyss.

  Gianavel smiled.

  "The Dark Lord has no power over me, Corbis."

  Roaring, the Beast smashed a gigantic paw upon a granite slab, and the stone shattered at the impact, sending a shock wave to the cavernous walls.

  "You are a fool, Gianavel!" roared Corbis. "You are a fool! Do you really think your pitiful strength can conquer the Dark Lord! You are weak! Your kind have always been weak! I will destroy you!"

  "Know this, Corbis!" snarled Gianavel, mane bristling with the words. "The Lightmaker will destroy you tonight! And flesh shall not bring you down! Despite your great strength, the Lightmaker proclaims that the Dark Council will terrify no more!"

  A madness possessed the Beast
even as Gianavel's words were spoken, and the creature roared forth from the darkness, emerging fully in the ghastly light.

  Scorning all strength but its own, Corbis towered in the Abyss. As if carved from black granite, its flesh was displayed; flesh hard with rocklike strength and armored within a thick mane of shaggy fur. And its limbs, heavy and massive with muscle, flexed, commanding the power to shatter stone and mountain alike. At the end of the massive paws, threatening stands of razorlike claws extended into the air, keen and cruel, unnaturally long and gleaming with an edge that knew no resistance in earthly substance.

  Corbis's colossal head looked down upon them, and the great fangs parted, revealing arching rows of white death. Then a thunderous growl gathered intensity, trembling the mountain deep into the earth, until the hideous jaws savagely separated, blasting a deafening roar across them. The hot wave submerged Aramus within its hateful wrath, and his snarl was lost in the dark wind that swept past.

  "Now you will know strength, Gianavel!" A fiendish howl hurled from the rear of the cavern tore through the Abyss, a howl of pain and escape, followed by the chaotic cries of a savage conflict. Automatically Aramus spun toward the wounded cry before realizing that, despite the violent distraction, Gianavel had never taken his eyes off Corbis. Understanding instantly, Aramus whirled back toward his father and the Beast, and though he stood only a heartbeat away, he could never say which moved first, or fastest.

  *

  fifteen

  Corbis struck a rending blow, but Gianavel was no longer there, leaping sideways to evade the great black claws that slashed a murderous arc through the darkened air.

  Aramus snatched Windgate up with a blinding movement that evaded Baalkor's crushing rush and was gone, bounding long to land before a wall of snarling dark wolves that barred his way. With steel strength Aramus hit the floor and launched himself high again, carrying the helpless hare far over the heads of the encircling wolves to land lightly upon the throne of Corbis. In a flash he dropped Windgate over the far side to land unharmed, far from the raging battle.