I backed away as its full head emerged. It was no dog.
No dog I had ever seen was that massive. It padded toward me, eyes blinking open. Two golden pupils fixed on mine.
“Dire wolf.” It was a dire wolf. I spun quickly, almost falling onto the rocks in my haste. Four pools on, another two heads broke the surface, one after the other. They gasped for air, their large muzzles opening to reveal rows of sharp teeth.
A thunderous growl ripped from the first dire wolf as he fully climbed from the pool.
The pools.
If I came in through them, perhaps I could escape through them as well. I ran for the nearest one, but pulled up short as another head split the surface of the pool. This one was a gray shaggy wolf, its black eyes fixed on me as it hobbled out of the pool. When it snarled at me, half of its teeth were missing from a weak mouth.
If I had to break through their line, this one seemed the feeblest of the six… no, seven that were now surrounding me.
They circled me entirely, but came no closer as they snarled only feet from my face. I could see nothing but hair, teeth, and gleaming eyes. Then another figure emerged, towering over the wolves even before he fully climbed out of the pool. I recognized him immediately, the head magician, Potestas.
He crouched down, leaning over the dire wolves to look directly into my eyes. “Iconoclast,” he said, his voice booming around me.
The moment he leaned near, a fire lit in my hands. “You will not take me!” I screamed. I threw my hand out, hitting the gray shaggy wolf in the muzzle.
The wolf did not blow back as the monks did; it barely took any notice at all. It bared its teeth in a snarl, rocked its head, and knocked my hand away.
Gritting my teeth, I glared up at the magician. “You will not take my power!”
“Alas, I will. It is a pity that my fellow magicians will not make it in time to join me.” He grinned. “I have not tasted Nirsha’s power in over a century. It is so hard to harvest, nearly impossible. It almost makes the… nuisance of your existence worth the trouble. I will be so much more powerful than the others—you will give me so much, my dear. I’m grateful to you.”
I looked up into his gaunt mask of a face. “Why do you need so much power?”
“We fortify the gateway to the gods. To protect Domengrad, of course,” Potestas smiled, the stretched leathery skin of his face folding up to either side of yellow teeth.
“Protect it from what?” I asked.
“From itself. People cannot handle the powers the gods gave them—people are corrupt. Domengrad used to be four warring factions—endless war. Only we can make and keep the peace. Both humans and gods must be separated and controlled, for when they are together, they are each corrupted by power. I would expect you would understand that, after what you’ve suffered.”
“At your hands!” I yelled.
“No, your curse is from Nirsha. You are too powerful, my dear. I will free you of this burden.”
The wolves moved at once, backing away from me. Most moved toward the pools, forming a wall of giant bodies between me and my only possible escape.
I stood up straight, lifting my chin in the air as I stared up at Potestas’ towering figure. I would be proud, to show him I would die with honor befitting a Klein. When he raised his hands, rage filled me and I screamed. I lifted my still-burning hands and ran straight for him.
Halfway there, something solid and invisible plowed into me. There was a loud crack as my back snapped straight. Pain drove through me, and all I could see was Potestas’ yellow smile as my feet lifted from the ground.
I shrieked, reaching for him, though he was impossibly far away. The image of my parents flashed through my mind. My mother’s beautiful face screamed in rage. And suddenly, wind buffeted the magician, whipping his beard and hair in all directions. He leaned in, his lightning blue eyes fixed harder on mine as his cloak tangled about him.
Another cracking ripped into my chest, and a gray mist leaked slowly from my body.
“Release my daughter!” the wind screamed. It slammed into his side. Potestas stumbled under its torrent, but his hand lifted against it and the wind upon him subsided abruptly.
A scream ripped through the clearing, sounding so like my mother. But no more wind came.
A small smile pulled at the side of Potestas’ cheek and the gray mist, which had slowed, began to again funnel from me.
The pain was like nothing I could describe. It was as if my spirit itself was being ripped from my body.
Something flashed at the side of my vision, and then hair and muscles and bone plowed into me. My back slammed into the rocks, knocking the breath from me as a giant, gray-haired figure hovered in midair over me. It convulsed, over and over.
I rolled out of the way before getting to my feet.
It was the gray wolf, hovering in the air, trapped in the magician’s sights.
The magician’s mouth opened wide, and he began to bellow as black smoke streamed out of the dire wolf and into his chest.
The power of Sun. Somehow, the wolf had taken my place and the magician was reaping it instead.
His screaming grew as the black smoke thickened, coursing in a great torrent toward him and into his chest.
“You can’t reap Sun’s power, can you? The god of life, the father of time, the keeper of the living, the master of worlds—it’s his power you can’t take. That’s why you disinherited Fauve and took his parents away, never to be seen again. You didn’t want him creating heirs in the peerage, because Fauve favored Sun. And Nirsha, the goddess of spirit, you can’t capture her power easily—it’s so elusive that it takes capturing an iconoclast to reap it—it makes sense. That’s why you selectively breed the lords and ladies.”
The black smoke tore away from the wolf in one final spurt, and the massive body thudded to the stones below.
The smoke struck Potestas, driving into his chest. He flew backward, his limbs convulsing violently.
I backed toward the nearest pool, finding the other wolves all looking to the fallen dire wolf. They took no notice of me. The water splashed around my boots as I waded in.
Across the field, one of the dire wolves trotted over to the fallen wolf. He leaned down and let out a low whimper. The giant gray body shuddered once, and then slowly collapsed into itself.
I knew I should take this opportunity to run, but I found myself standing there, ankle-deep in the water, watching. The wolf shrank slowly, condensing smaller and smaller, until it was the shape of a long, lean woman.
She lay naked on the indigo rocks, her gray hair streaming around her horribly familiar face. “Sophie?” I called. I stumbled onto the rocks, crawling toward her. “Sophie?”
Before I could reach within ten feet of her though, a massive gleaming paw moved into my path. I looked up and up and up, all the way up a leg to a black dire wolf ten times the size of the others. He stood over Sophie, his eyes closed and head tipped down, as if he was crying. A gleaming red collar encircled his great neck, the only spot of color in an obsidian expanse.
A breeze lifted my hair, sending it streaming around my face and shoulders. “Go home,” the breeze whispered.
“Nirsha?”
“Go home, Annabelle.”
I looked back to the massive wolf. He stood so tall that the other wolfs looked like his puppies. “But what about Sophie?”
“I’ll take her with me. It is what she wants. I believe that out of greed for my magic, Potestas hid that he had set this trap for you. You must go before the magicians realize that you have been connected to Sun’s collar. They will realize it soon. They will force Sun’s wolves to take you to them. You are not safe until the dusk—go!” The wind beat against my face, gusting in the direction of the pool.
Pushing my way to my feet, I whispered toward where I knew Sophie lay, “Thank you—I’ll do my best to take care of them for you, I promise. Thank you for dying to save me.”
Nirsha’s wind accompanied me as I made
my way to the edge of the pool that I was almost certain I had originally come through.
As the colors lapped around my ankles, I whispered into the wind, “What do I do now?”
The breeze wrapped around me, but it gave me no answer. I knew I couldn’t wait for one if I wanted to survive this day. Raising my hands in the air, I dove into the colors. Swimming down was easier, the thick liquid parting before me as I moved my arms in powerful strokes. I did not see the end of the pool coming. One moment, I was swimming, and the next, I tumbled through the air and fell onto a person standing there.
I smacked into the young man’s chest, smelling the reek of whiskey and sickness.
“What—what?” he sputtered.
“Tony?” I tumbled off him and onto the ground. “Tony! Oh, by all the gods, you stink! You really need to start bathing again.”
He looked over, his dark hair a tangled mess around his face. Smears of what looked like vomit clung to the dirty, red smoking jacket he wore. He squinted at me. “Annabelle?”
“You can see me?” I looked down to see color still covering my body and dress. “Oh, my gods—you can see me!” I sat up, a smile overtaking my face.
Tony’s eyes widened as he stared at my forehead. “Your color is… it’s dripping off, but I remember you. I remember you now. I will remember you.”
Globules of browns, tans, and pinks splattered onto the colorless floor.
“I’ll remember you,” he whispered.
“I’ll protect you, always,” I whispered back.
One final drop of blue splashed onto the floor.
Across from me, Tony’s gaze slid away.
22
Dire Wolves
Dylan
I collapsed onto the ground beside my brother John’s giant wolf body as the room wavered around us.
Three hours.
Three hours I had devoted to clawing through the back wall of the workshop, the only wall that didn’t have bars just beneath the wood paneling. We’d already dug up the floor at eight different places, only to find it enclosed. As I dug through layer after layer on the back wall, not hitting bars, my hope grew. I bit and clawed as wood dug into the pads of my paws and dirt flew around me. John had done his best to help me, until about two hours ago when he’d wandered away and curled up on the floor in exhaustion. And after all that—every nail that had embedded into my flesh, every splinter, cut, and broken claw—my teeth had closed around yet another metal bar. Fifteen feet deep into the packed soil and rocks, a line of unbroken steel bars greeted me.
We were in an endless, unyielding cage.
Joseph smashed his giant wolf head against the grate. The now-familiar sound of bone hitting metal mingled with what was something between a grunt, whimper, and growl.
Thud, thud, thud. Someone could set their pocket watch by what could only now be considered Joseph beating himself bloody. As it was, my heartbeat already aligned to the rhythm.
Sleek, sandy-colored hair coated Joseph from his muzzle down to his hindquarters, forming tightly to his wide wolf body. Though John and I were nearly as large and twice as shaggy as our older brother, Joseph filled our surroundings, standing almost as tall as the press, and twice as wide.
After Sophie had barred us in here this morning, we had tried everything short of cutting off our own limbs to get through the bars. I’d had my hands wrapped around one of the locks as we all strained against its immovable position, when the pain struck me.
Pain was an insufficient word for what had spread throughout my body.
I thought I had understood the extent of agony a body could feel. Three days after our parents were taken by the Congregation, a group of men had found John and I sleeping in an alley behind the Blue Horse Inn not too far from where we now lived. Joseph had hidden us there while he’d scoped townhouses that were far enough from the templum to consider robbing. We hadn’t eaten since the morning our parents disappeared through the templum doors.
I’d been barely asleep, drifting in and out of consciousness, wrapped around my little brother on the grimy stones, when a boot slammed into my side. Screaming, I’d looked up to find a man I recognized pulling his leg back for another kick. Just a few days before, the man had been my neighbor. Tom had laughed with my father, patted Joseph’s head as he walked past, and had even carried John to a doctor once. He’d recognized me, too—I could see it in his eyes as his boot connected with my shoulder. The relentless blows from Tom’s work boots… I’d thought that was the extent of pain a body could feel.
Sophie was the one who found us that night in the alley. She was the one who carried us out. Unlike us, Tom and his friends never left that alley.
That was the last time anyone had followed us into a dark alley again.
Sophie had made no secret of the justice she’d delivered to Tom, but even after she’d taken us in from the streets and made it clear that she’d do it again, no guard, novice, or monk had ever collected her for judgment on the horrific state she had left those men’s bodies in.
I’d always known that the events of that alley had hurt no one as much as Joseph, who had learned of it hours later—and I couldn’t help but wonder if, in his head, he was back in that alley today. The lantern gleamed over his back as he rammed his wide head into the cage again.
The cage didn’t even deign to shift.
Panting, John and I looked over at each other, two massive heads swinging in unison as we huddled as far to one side of the room as possible.
The swollen, aching pads of my paws screamed out a protest as I hobbled to my feet. Swinging my head around, I considered the best perch to attempt to scratch through the ceiling. I knew what I’d almost certainly find there—iron bars. Nevertheless, I had to try.
I grunted down to John.
John shook his head in a human-like manner—before laying it back on the wood floor. John’s head alone was about four hands in length and twice that in girth. Unlike Joseph, his fur stuck out all around him like a flaxen infant’s fuzzy head. When the pain had finally released me from its blistering grip, I’d found John lying unconscious, sprawled on the floor—it had been the same in the alley so many anni ago. His mind was kinder than mine, protecting him through the worst of the pain and releasing him when he would only suffer its aftermath.
I barked, but he only whined and stayed down.
He wasn’t going to help me—not anymore.
I could almost read his mind as he whimpered again, misery etched into his features—it was too late.
With a huff, I turned back to the workshop.
In the long hours since we had changed into these creatures, I had not grown used to the sight of looking down my own muzzle. It was almost dizzying to catch sight of my nose so many times. My entire head felt too heavy and awkward, like swinging a load of straw around my neck.
A wolf. I was a wolf. It was too big, too strange, and too uncomfortable to wrap my mind around right now. I knew the shock of it would come later, but now I had to find a way to escape this cell and stop Sophie. As much as I hated it, I knew I had to do whatever it took to stop her.
From above, the distinct sound of the iron knob of the stove creaked.
Simultaneously, our wolf heads whipped around and we froze, staring at the alcove where the ladder stretched up.
The light clacking of shoes hitting the wooden rungs grew in volume, much too loud to be Sophie, who moved near soundlessly. My eyes had always been keen in low light, but I could see Annabelle’s every detail as she emerged from the shadows. Relief almost took my feet from under me.
She was alive.
Not only was she alive, she now had two arms and shoulders. She was whole. Her gaze roamed through the space—though she likely couldn’t see more than the barest of our outlines. There was no widening of her eyes, no gaping in shock. Her expression spoke more of sadness, of resignation—as if she’d feared she’d find us this way. Under one of her arms, she held a bundle of clothing. With her other hand, she
held up a note.
Obviously hit with a new bout of energy, John climbed to his feet and bounded over to the gate. With a low whine, he pointed to the cage locks with his snout. Joseph stalked over to stand beside John, nodding once in a sharp movement. It was almost as if he was saying that he approved of John’s request for our release, as if Joseph was the authority. That would be just like my older brother.
Setting her bundle on the floor, Annabelle crossed the floor. Her free hand wrapped around the bar, colorless gloved fingers stood out starkly against the black iron.
Her smell hit me, stronger than I had ever smelled before. The scent of fresh, open air. She smelled like a windswept field with a current of air so strong it whipped back clothing and threatened to send people flying.
Annabelle shook her head so slightly it was as if she hadn’t moved at all. “I can’t let you out quite yet. Any minute now, the magicians will realize what happened, and when they do, they’ll start controlling you.” Raising the hand with a piece of paper, she pushed it through the bars, holding it up as if we’d read it. “Sophie left me a letter—it explains about you and me and the magicians. She says here that she left it for me in case she succeeded and I was the one to come back alive. She must have known what was going to happen if she succeeded.” Annabelle sniffed and looked down to her pointed boots. “I’m—I’m so sorry. I don’t know if you can understand me in this…” she nodded at John, “as a wolf.” She looked back up and straight into my eyes. “Can you understand me?”
I nodded.
“Perhaps I should wait until you’re human,” she whispered.
Joseph’s massive head swung in a clear message, indicating that no, she shouldn’t wait.
Standing straight, Annabelle inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry to tell you, but Sophie jumped in the path of a magician’s spell that was meant to kill me—she saved my life.”
John let out a low keening sound.
“She didn’t come back from the realm of the gods. I’m so sorry.” She stepped back, pulling away from the bars. “I’ll unlock the cage to the point where you’ll be able to let yourself out when you’re human. It’s twilight now—it says on this note that you’ll become human any minute now.”
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