His work was done, and he moved slowly off to the west. In moving away he gave little caution to his footing. A dry branch broke beneath his foot. Within seconds—perhaps partially imagined in advance—he smelled the rush of fear from all three men cowering and whispering by the fire. Thicker than smoke, stronger than gunpowder, the scent of intense fear was a captivating aroma; it left in the old wolf a feeling akin to hunger—the thrill of the hunt, which was an appetite that could never be satisfied as long his heart still beat. Fare well, he thought. Hash your plans, bring your best methods against me; they are doomed to fail. Sit idly through the cool of night with stiffening joints, waiting, wondering. Tire your minds with fret, numb your pitiful senses with smoke and flame, and drink your watered ale till every mouse becomes a monster. Later I will test your progress.
~17~
“Let them speak on their own,” Eli said to his fellow wolves. Being just behind his grandfather, he had stopped halfway up the hill, halting the others behind him with his body language. He swung about, loped back down the hill, and moved off a ways into the trail.
Evie had watched her grandfather before turning back with the others. He continued on up the hill, only slowing his pace when he neared his brother.
Seeing Evie’s hesitation, Erica hesitated also. After a moment Matthew used his shoulder to get her moving. Sarah, on her way down, spoke into Evie’s ear.
“Come along,” she said with a small whine. “It’s all right.”
The silver-white swung around and walked along with Sarah, her head turned and watching the two brothers until the trees obstructed her view.
***
“Was it something I said?” Abel said low and lazily.
“We must speak,” Joseph said, halting and sitting just downhill of his brother. “The young needn’t be burdened. They grieve enough already.”
“It is a sad state.”
“The blame is mine.”
“Yes, as for the young. But what excuses have the experienced?”
“None other than loyalty.”
“Ugh,” Abel laughed. “Dogs. I am nearly glad Father was spared seeing—”
“Let it be,” growled his brother. “I admit we have been lax, living at peace. But you know there is no other way to occupy this land.”
“Is this small parcel worth the trouble?”
“In all but a few cases, it is. Remember we were not spared trouble in the last century, even in a wilder place. Those before us knew trouble well. Why would we be spared now, here?”
“Perhaps it cannot be avoided. It can be resisted.”
“Not the way you wish. In your long years of seclusion you have lost touch. Mankind numbers in the billions. Their weapons have been torn from the pages of science fiction. The might of a few proud beasts such as we cannot resist them. It would be to drain the sea or darken the stars—”
“Enough,” Abel said. “I tire of this old routine. I am not here to bicker. As always you exceed my simple logic. Let it rest; I came only to see the young; I stay only for the coming hunt.”
“Very well,” the white wolf nodded. “Those to the east; how have you left them?”
“Still breathing,” Abel said low, his eyes narrowing. “Ripening as we speak.”
“Lester watched them settle in. They are heavily armed and stink of ill intent.”
“Indeed.”
“How many?”
“Four at most. The one that came near the farm troubles me; he was … strangely familiar. Perhaps once a peace child now turned hunter. He is aged beyond the rest; his skills are sharp. Keep all young from him. The rest will be easily brushed aside.”
“It would be best to let them tire and leave of boredom.”
“I doubt these will.”
The white wolf growled low. “I agree, bitterly. But I ask you not to go south. Those there are being watched. They are bumblers and amateurs, a nuisance, not a threat. Soon they will tire.”
“I have no interest there,” Abel assured him. “If you would tolerate them, that is your folly, not mine.”
“Understand that common men have, from to time, showed us understanding and kept our secret.”
“For what reward?” Abel laughed.
“None but friendship. An old man kept the silver-white from being mauled. For decades he’s held his tongue. He knew also of the cats, and last night made his allegiance clear.”
“From the trees?”
The white wolf nodded.
“Ah, yes. On the run I thought I smelled him but was otherwise engaged. I did not expect the young to be so foolish as to follow. Nor did I expect a human’s assistance.”
“It is over now. The south is secure. Let us go on now.”
“Let us,” Abel said low, rising slowly to his feet and stretching his legs, first the front, then the rear. “Call her to me. I promise to play nice.”
“The light one is moderate, more given to play. The dark one burns with instincts. Do not provoke her.”
“Very well,” Abel said. “Guard her if you will, but you cannot chain her forever.”
“When the time is right, you will have them both for training. They are bonded; I would prefer they stay together.”
“And now?”
“Too soon.”
“After last night, it is not peace time.”
“Even so, they are but children. Treat them as such.”
“Fierce children,” Abel grunted.
“Yes, and simple of mind. Innocent in many respects. Their choices must be made in good time, when the weight of their options have been made clear.”
“For now you have my word,” Abel said. “I aim to enjoy this night, to laugh ahead of battle.” His eyes narrowed from his inner smile. “Perhaps I will soon meet my match. I have searched many years.”
***
“They will not harm one another,” Eli assured the young silver-white. “What you saw was the old frustration of brothers.”
“A tussle,” Matthew said.
“I’d hate to see the real thing,” she said with a low whine. “He makes me nervous.”
“Abel keeps us strong,” Erica said.
“Settle,” Sarah said to her.
Erica glared but remained silent.
The small pack moved along down the trail, then turned and circled back near the base of Oak Hill, killing time.
Soon the white wolf appeared at the tree line. “Girls,” he said. “Come along; meet your great uncle formally.”
As the group started up the hill, Evie hung back. Though she made no sound, her posture made clear her apprehension.
“There is nothing to fear,” her grandfather said softly. “He would fight like a demon to defend you, but never would he harm one of the young. Let go of your worries; lighten his mood with yours.”
“Yes,” Evie said softly, raising her head as she climbed, seeing the now standing giant who was watching her, feeling his heavy gaze.
“This one has shown her valor,” Abel said, circling Erica slowly. “What she lacks in discretion, she compensates with courage.” He looked briefly at his brother. “Watch this one.”
“She is the daughter of Earl and Ruth,” Joseph said. “I have watched her close some years, and will watch her more.”
Erica stood still as the great wolf paced about her, turning only her head to follow him, but without locking eyes. And then suddenly she sensed his differing movements. He made a rush at her, ducked, stretched himself long, and struck at her feet with a forceless bite. In response she danced away, stumbled with tied legs, rolled over quickly, and was on her feet again within a second. A menacing growl swelled in her throat.
The other wolves laughed, setting back on their haunches, watching the show.
“You, I like,” he said, and as the young wolf gradually relaxed, he added, “Consider us friends and family.”
Erica raised her head slightly. Her expression became near to a smile. He wasn’t mocking her. This was his wild way of
making friends.
The old wolf nuzzled Erica from neck to hip, not with excessive zeal but with warmth, with friendship. Then he slowly turned his head toward Evie.
“This is Jane’s daughter, Evelyn,” her grandfather said. “The child we referred to as Red for her unique hair among us.”
“Red,” he grunted, stepping toward her as staring into her. “Well, what have you?”
The silver-white wolf made only a low sound of confusion to match the confusion of her expression. She lowered her head slightly and watched the old Snow. Though calm, he was regardless an intimidating presence to have approaching, staring, examining. He circled her as he’d circled Erica. A quick glance and reading of her grandfather’s face told her that, as with her cousin, it was harmless, only a game. But that second it took her to read that expression left her flank unguarded.
Abel struck with a nip, and Evie flew straight up as if she’d been electrified, met the ground again on springy feet, dancing, dodging his mock strikes, until he succeeded in knocking her over. Like Erica, she rolled and assumed her footing in a flash. Her crest bristled with defensive anxiety, but she made no other sign of aggression.
Again the other wolves laughed, and for just a second, Evie noticed that Abel’s dark tail showed the faintest hint of a happy wag.
“I said,” Abel repeated, moving up closer to her face, “What have you?”
“I … I’m fast,” Evie replied, feeling the challenge growing in the air between them. She looked around cautiously, keeping one eye on the dark giant. “Very fast,” she said a bit louder as her fear of him receded. Finally she looked straight at him. “I’m faster than you.”
“Ugh,” Abel laughed, and this time his tale flicked back and forth in two heavy swishes. “Caution rules you, until a game of surety arises. There is some boldness in you after all,” he said, staring straight into her. “It looks well on you.”
Evie’s hairs softened as defensiveness left her. “C’mon,” she yipped, and she mocked a growl, bowing slightly and flicking her tail, the thrill of a challenge quickly overwhelming her.
“Is she all talk,” Abel said with a laugh, pacing around the silver-white. “All young zeal and playful jests? Or is she speaking confident truth? Will she humble my aged hide with her fresh legs?”
“Maybe, maybe,” the others said. “Oh it’s possible. Sure possible. Watch her, watch her.”
The white wolf remained silent and motionless.
Evie, hearing the group consensus, made a decision in a split second, and acted on it within the next. She lunged, snapping at the old wolf’s unguarded leg while his head remained high from her way. Then she spun, low and fast, and bolted downhill. “You’re it!”
***
The silver streak had a comfortable lead. Her confidence soaring, at the fork of the trail she slowed to let the old wolf in chase pull alongside her.
“Mistake,” Abel said through his heavy breaths.
“No,” Evie replied, thinking the old brute hadn’t a clue who he had challenged; and digging hard, she began pulling ahead on her way to the cabins. As her hind legs gradually passed Abel’s head, she suddenly felt a nip, felt her balance stolen from her control, and then saw the dark woods roll over and over as she tumbled forth.
Behind her the other wolves roared with laughter. She regained her footing promptly, maintaining her momentum throughout the tumble, and with a bitter complaint rumbling in her throat, she shot off after the old cheater.
The fuel of rivalry was strong, but the fuel of fury driving her now was explosive. She focused on his dark outline rather than the trail, hell bent on overtaking him as a shark pursuing blood in the water. His tail was the nearest target. Being young, she was too impatient to wait for the right time to retaliate. At his tail she snapped several times, to no avail. Each time the old wolf flicked it from her reach at the last moment before her jaws snapped shut. And in the process of spending effort on her failed attacks, she began to lose ground on him.
Mentally she regrouped after the failure. All her energy she again directed toward the task of overtaking him. Driving hard, her head soon reached his hind leg, then his flank, then his shoulder. She saw his eyes as he glanced over when she’d drawn fully even, and she lowered her own, to disguise her intent. There was no chance of moving his weight with a shoulder check, so with a mighty drive from her hind legs, she lowered her head toward him, and sent herself like a projectile under his neck to trip him.
But again the old wolf eluded her. Sensing her aim, he leapt up just as she dove, flying in an arc, and landing safely clear of her second tumble. “Ugh,” he laughed over his shoulder. “You label such blunderings as speed?”
She was beyond angry now. No one ever called Evie slow. Friendly competition was out the window. So was any other form of competition. With rage bellowing from her throat, her feet digging furiously, her fiery aim became bent solely on defeating this foe.
Nearing the clearing of the cabins, Evie had finally pulled half alongside of Abel. Choosing her line carefully, she planned to cut under him at the last turn entering the clearing. Her body was narrower and more agile than his. The old Snow would be forced to slow somewhat—more than she at least—in order to turn his considerable bulk. With perfect execution she knew she could steal victory at the last second. By turning sooner and sharper, then making a straight rush at full speed, she would edge him out while he took a wider, more gradual turn.
When the moment came she let up just enough to let him pull ahead while she ducked under and to the right. Effectively turning in advance, she had a straight line to surge, while the old Snow leaned gradually through the turn—just as she’d planned. And it almost worked.
If not for the cheater’s nip to her tail, Evie would have won the race by at least a head, possibly more. Instead she stumbled, slowed, felt the other wolves surrounding her on three sides, saw the dark wolf ahead in the clearing, mocking her with a sly look as he slowed and turned well ahead of her. His frame stretched long before her, like a dark roadblock in the moonlight, and instead of slowing and yielding to defeat, Evie charged like an animal possessed.
“Cheater!” she roared, never breaking stride, and barreling into his side with bared fangs ready to slash.
Abel turned as a bullfighter, losing only some hair to Evie’s slash, then squared himself with her as she spun for a second attack. By her face the old brute knew that she was coming with no mock intent. Deep down within the massive wolf, Abel’s spirit smiled proudly. Her reaction was exactly what he’d hoped for. She had the fire, the rage—she just hadn’t known it until now. No one had ever pushed her that far to evoke it. But it was there all right. She’d tear him up if he wasn’t careful. Even a smaller, weaker foe was a serious threat when the deep well of rage was finally tapped.
At once the white wolf was between them, blocking Evie with his strong shoulder. Her outpouring of wrath surprised even him. “Easy,” he said over and over. “Settle.”
“Cheater!” she snarled, bouncing off of her grandfather’s continual blocks. “Can’t win fair! Don’t dare play straight! Can’t beat me!”
***
For the next minute or so, Abel and all the others remained silent, waiting for the silver-white’s temper to cool. At last the fire burned low, and quickly she moved from seething rage to mortified embarrassment as she looked around at all their watching faces.
Now Abel stepped toward her. “It was unjust, what I did.”
“Yes,” she answered coldly, her eyes adverted.
“Yes, unfair and unwarranted. The sorest of losers are those unfamiliar with the feeling.”
“I hate losing,” she muttered.
“So I see,” he laughed. “You deserved to win, and so I should have let you. That is the illusory teachings of men residing in you. The world is just; only play by the rules and you will triumph. Am I wrong, swift one?”
Slowly Evie lifted her eyes to him. The great wolf settled back on his haunches. His
face was almost smiling. The small pack around them was dead silent.
“Perhaps not tonight,” he said after a moment. “But someday you will appreciate my tactics.”
“For what?” Evie asked with no words, only her intense expression.
“We are a small audience, but before us, and before yourself, my ways have made evident your true quality. Once the illusion of control and fairness has left you, you will be a fine wolf indeed.”
“What?’ Evie muttered.
“Keep heart, child. How quickly you’ve forgotten that just minutes ago you attacked me.” His eyes momentarily narrowed. “None but your grandfather would openly challenge me.” He looked around at the others, and their silence made clear their agreement.
“It was a game,” Evie said.
“Was it really?”
“Yes.”
“Not at the end,” Abel said louder. “You came for me. Not to snap and warn but for blood. Only my watching brother stopped you, though he was nearly as surprised as you are now, remembering.”
Evie looked to her grandfather as if for confirmation. His head nodded ever so slightly. And at that moment she gained a base understanding of the wisdom of the elders. Only once before in her life had she felt so blatantly wronged, so callously cheated. Recalling the night—it seemed so long ago—when she’d lain despondently in bed, miserable with regret for missing her summer trip. That was similar to how she’d felt when Abel cheated—only as the wolf, she’d felt capable of putting her hurt feelings into a swift enacting of retribution. Without thinking, the same force that brought on the wolf compelled her to act as the wolf—a supposed dealer of justice.
“You are slow to anger,” Abel went on, “and quick to forgive. Good; such virtues will serve you well in family life. But outside, justice and kindness are not interchangeable. When it really counts, you’ve got the wild flame backing you. In the world as it is—not the fair place you’ve grown in—strength is what endures beyond fair play and so-called justice. You possess that strength, though you were not aware until I forced it from you.”
The Call (The Great North Woods Pack Book 2) Page 14