Under the Wolf's Shadow

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Under the Wolf's Shadow Page 5

by A. Katie Rose


  Bar dropped lightly to earth a few rods from me, in a rare open space among the semi-ordered chaos of Li’s village. Furling his wings, he walked nearer to me, his lion tail lashing from side to side.

  Li spoke again, gesturing toward Bar. No less than five veiled and skirted women broke from the general crowd and advanced on Bar.

  “What–” he began, his neck feathers bristling.

  “Let them tend to you,” I said wearily.

  “But–”

  “Are you afraid of a bunch of women?” I snapped.

  “Well, no, but–”

  I ignored his hissing protest, knowing full well he’d never harm them. How they had the courage to fuss over him, wash his hurts, clean his fur and feathers, cluck, scold and bully him into standing this way or that, stand still, dammit, I’ll never know. Courage they had in truth, for they forced him into obeying them as easily as they might a young child.

  Yet more fearless women, chains jingling, with clay pots of water and salves bore down on the wolves. Though they jumped in alarm, from Silverruff on down to Kip, they, too, found themselves coaxed, bullied and cajoled into standing still. Cool water washed their hurts, salves spread over their bites eased their pain, brushes and combs quickly removed the dried blood from their lush coats. I grinned as they relaxed and appreciated the cool water offered as both drink and a bath. Nasty dried blood gone from their fur, their wounds cleansed, my wolf army settled in with sighs of contentment as the women pampered them without mercy.

  “Your women show remarkable bravery,” I commented.

  “All of the Jha’fhar are courageous, Ly’Tana of Kel’Halla,” Li replied, his brow furrowing in confusion. “You know this, yes?”

  I gestured toward the women and servants tending not just men and horses, but fifteen great wolves who could rip their throats in seconds and a griffin three times the size of their largest horse. “Against men, certainly. But they have no fear of our friends.”

  “My people are not afraid of friends, Ly’Tana of Kel’Halla.”

  I laughed. “Of course not, dear Li. How silly of me.”

  Smoke slid down from his saddle. After sending his horse into the milling herds with a slap to its rump, he held his hands up. “Please, Ly’Tana of Kel’Halla.”

  With Kel’Ratan and the twins hovering anxiously, I set Tuatha on my saddle and permitted Smoke to help me down from Mikk’s back. Though he was gentle, my many and myriad pains woke with a vengeance. I grit my teeth to hold back either a scream or a groan. On my feet, my head spinning, I needed his support as I watched an army of women and servants descend upon Kel’Ratan, Corwyn, and the horses. Arianne yanked Tuatha from my saddle as Mikk and Shardon were led away to fresh water to drink and the healing salves to coat their wounds. Kel’Ratan sent me one wild glance of entreaty before three veiled ladies pushed him into a nearby tent.

  “These are the tents of my wives,” Li said, catching my attention. He gestured toward the short row of four thick hide tents. “They will care for you, Ly’Tana of Kel’Halla and Arianne of Connacht. Tonight, after you are healed, we will dine in private. Tomorrow night . . . .”

  His dark eyes gleamed with humor. “Ah, tomorrow night, we will feast, drink talela, eat fruit, mutton, goat roasted to perfection and be glad together. Tomorrow night, you shall repay my kindness and friendship with the tale we all want to hear.”

  “Er,” I asked. “What’s talela?”

  “Why, fermented mare’s milk, Ly’Tana of Kel’Halla. Surely you know.”

  My belly wanted to heave, but I quashed it and forced a smile. “I’m sure I will love it.”

  “Of course you will. All who drink talela love it. It’s quite good for the digestion.”

  Arianne rolled her eyes, her mouth bowed down in disgust. Fortunately, Li’s shoulder prevented Li from seeing it. I chuckled. “I shall be ready to tell our tale, my brave Li.”

  “Good.” His eyes silently commanded his wives and servants before resting once more on me. “Come the dawn, I shall take you to Brother Lavi. Our Huhtamaki monk.”

  From Out of the Blizzard

  Chapter 3

  “Your enemies are learning from you.”

  Darius’ voice halted me a few leagues from where I parted from the ill-fated Tongu. “What?”

  “Every time you confront them, they learn more. They knew you left the rest of the pack, they knew you were part wolf, they may even know you are my descendant.”

  “What of it then?”

  “Take Ja’Teel’s advice. Hide your tracks.”

  Of course. Once he suspected Ja’Teel could watch us with his magic, Rygel took steps. He cast a net of magic over us and hid us from distant eyes. What use in escaping this trap only to fall headlong into another? If they knew of my quest, they could get ahead of me at any time and set a new trap. Next time, I might not escape.

  Ja’Teel and Brutal had been one step ahead of me all along. They caught and tortured Wind Spirit, knowing I’d stumble across her and would, with wolfish loyalty toward my own kind, try to save her.

  When that failed, Ja’Teel watched and waited. Sooner or later I gave him an opening. I foolishly created enough magical clutter outside the Black Wolf Tavern and drew him straight to me. Despite my escape, he knew he’d find me again by tracking my constant northward journey. He had but to get ahead of me and wait. Along I came, ignorant, thick-witted, stumbling headlong into his clever, drug-induced trap. Only Darius and his genius saved me.

  “That was you, wasn’t it?”

  “Pardon?”

  “The vision of Ly’Tana and–”

  I couldn’t say the word. “You know.”

  “You gave me little choice. You wouldn’t fight to save your own life. But you’d fight to save hers.”

  “You knew how I feel about rapists?”

  “Of course. That’s why I–”

  “Don’t say it.” I shuddered to think how real that vision was. Ly’Tana and those monsters–

  “Did he tell the truth?” I asked, my mind, my fears, flinching from my own question. Did Ja’Teel capture Ly’Tana, Rygel and the others?

  “Seek your innermost instincts. What do they tell you?”

  I shut my eyes, concentrating on my heart, my gut, my bond with Rygel. My breathing, my churning mind and my fears calmed all at once. Centering, I dropped into a light trance. I sought my wolf instincts, seeking, ever searching for the truth.

  Rygel stood far away to the east, healthy, unharmed. My gut told me Ly’Tana was with him, free of Brutal and my vision’s fears both. Common sense said that if they lived, free of capture, my precious sister did as well. I remembered the flicker in Ja’Teel’s hazel eyes, the rapid and easily dismissed but tell-tale sign of a liar at work.

  I sighed. “He lied to torment me. Brutal doesn’t have them. They’re safe.”

  “Good. But you aren’t. Remember what Rygel said about magical nets.”

  “I don’t know how to make one.”

  “You do.”

  This required more time. Amid the dying autumn leaves and pine needles, squirrels chattering and flicking their nervous tails and late flies buzzing around my ears, I sat down. I crunched acorns and dry twigs, flipping my tail over my paws. A hawk blew past, raptor beak parted in a silent scream before vanishing across the treetops. That only reminded me, painfully, of Ly’Tana.

  “What did he do?” I muttered, scratching an itch on my neck, my hind leg thumping the hard mountain soil. “Think, dammit.”

  I couldn’t remember what he did. In fact, he did, er, not very much. A vague, almost unremembered memory rose, just beyond my reach. My paw quit scratching as I realized he did something. I saw him do it. But what the blazes was it?

  Dropping further into a memory I’d long forgotten, I called upon my deepest visions. I saw Rygel, standing away from the group of men and horses in the huge apple orchard, his arms at his sides. The Jefe monks long dead or gone, their souls crying for vengeance, neither hampere
d nor helped him.

  Suddenly, he raised his arms over his head. His lips moved in a rapid-fire incantation. Speaking words I could never understand in this life, he muttered and invoked a rite of protection. Slowly his arms expanded over the group of people and horses. His mouth rising and falling, reciting an ancient spell, he spoke simply and clearly. His arms fell limp to his sides.

  “I don’t get it,” I muttered. “I didn’t understand what he said.”

  “You do. You did.”

  Changing clothes, my bare skin pimpled under the chilly mountain breeze, a light touch of frost caused me to shiver and suck in my breath. What did he say?

  I raised my arms and shut my eyes. “Protect and guard those beneath this curtain,” I intoned, following my instincts. “Grant them relief from evil eyes. Shield them, hide them and conceal them from their enemies. Permit them freedom from harm. Permit them to move with freedom. With thy divine protection, allow friends the power to see. Forbid evil’s power from exposing them. By your divine will, I do beg thee.”

  My arms collapsed to my sides. I set my will. Power surged from my very core.

  I glanced up. Overhead, I saw a dim veil, almost imperceptible, between the sun and me. It appeared like a very thin scrap of fine weave, as though I held a filmy scarf between my hands and peered through it. Swift flickers of my eyes both left and right showed me the same scene. Trees, boulders, scrub oak, pines and poplar saplings seen as though a thin veil of incandescent silk stood between us.

  This is what Rygel created when none of us saw anything at all?

  The faintly iridescent pall never wavered, never flickered, never shifted of its position. Halting, confused, I took a step. The netting moved with me. I walked forward, thinking I’d pass through and pop out the other end.

  The veil, whatever it was, paced me evenly.

  Changing clothes, I half-thought the magic might vanish when my man-shape did. It remained the same, tagging along, unconcerned. Breaking into a strong trot, I found it paced me without effort. I hit a mile-eating gallop, ducking under trees, dodging boulders, my paws sending up clods of earth and winter dead green things in a shower behind me, thinking I’d leave it behind.

  Like a pale phantom, it surrounded me, paced me, trees, thorny bushes, scrub oak and dead trees passing through it, unharmed and undaunted. A skittish raven winged in and out, cawing harshly, unfazed by the pale shield. I put on more speed, panting. The weird pall kept a strong pace, undisturbed.

  No matter how fast or hard or what obstacles lay in my path, the ghost borne of magic paced me without effort.

  “Forget it,” Darius said.

  I skidded to a sharp halt, panting. Fall leaves burst upward in a shower as my hind paws dug deep furrows in the loamy soil. My front paws still galloped forward as my heavy tail, like a ships’ rudder, effectively kept me upright and not muzzle first in the dirt.

  My front paws still moving, I abruptly sat on my haunches, in a humiliating, sliding stop. Surrounded by mouthy jackdaws, inquisitive squirrels and indifferent trees and silent brambles, I panted. Both confused and exhilarated by what I accomplished, I drew in a deep breath to calm my racing heart. The thin silvery veil halted with me, at last still, quiescent.

  I’d just blinded Ja’Teel.

  No matter where I travelled, not matter how far I roamed, he’d never find me in this vast wilderness and dense forests. Thus shielded from his magic, I could disappear, never to be found again. I once stood at a certain point, captive, in his magical sights. When he rode his black horse away, convinced he had me dead to rights, he lost his ability to track me.

  Yet, he knew I travelled north in as straight a line as I could. He might still plant a trap, knowing my path and my destination. If I travelled north, off my intended road and at a slightly eastward turning, he’d lose all trace of me.

  “Angling few degrees north by east you’ll still head toward your destination. And if he’s idiot enough to seek you straight north, he’ll bypass you by leagues.”

  I grinned, happy. “Even a few leagues can change the entire course of the hunt.”

  “Do it. Go.”

  Heeding that perceptive idiot in my head, I loped north and toward the east. Ja’Teel in his desperation will hopefully believe I remained on my northward course. With a day or so of heavy travel will put a mountain range between me and my pursuers. Ja’Teel, his Tongu allies and their mutts would scent out nothing more than a few deer, rabbits and feral hogs. They’d not catch a whiff of my distinctive wolf’s odor.

  Brutal’s rage . . . well, now wasn’t that a sight to warm one’s heart? Laughing, I galloped on, ducking under branches that threatened my vulnerable eyes.

  “It’s good to hear you laugh again.”

  I knew he didn’t intend to remind me of Feria, but I was so reminded. Had she been with me, she’d have decorated Ja’Teel’s face with her talons.

  “She’d be dead now.”

  “I can wish now, can’t I?”

  “No. Wishing is for idiots. Are you one?”

  “I suppose I owe you for the rescue,” I admitted. “Thanks.”

  “I’ll send you my bill.”

  Damn, but didn’t he make me laugh again. Hmmm, the god of wolves had a sense of humor. Who would have thought it?

  “I have a great sense of humor. You just don’t appreciate it yet.”

  “Right,” I replied, leaping a boulder, and loping down a short steep hill. My tail swung from side to side, maintaining my balance as my paws dug deep into loamy soil. “You’re a regular comedian.”

  “You’re skinny again. Your coat looks like it hung too long on the wash line, dripping.”

  “Was that a joke?”

  “An observation.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “You need to eat and soon.”

  “I’ll eat when I’m hungry. Don’t worry about it.”

  “As your parent and your god, I’ll always worry about you.”

  Now why did he have to say that? Just when I enjoyed hating him–

  “You’ll need to seek shelter and right quickly.”

  “Why? Ja’Teel can’t find me, and neither can Brutal or his minions.”

  “Look past your damn nose.”

  At the bottom of the gully, I slowed. I’d just descended a sharp hill and entered a small valley rift with huge boulders, fallen trees and a small trickle of water. I half-thought to get a drink, as Ja’Teel’s drug and my heavy run made me thirsty. However, Darius’ voice sent my alarm instincts into overdrive. I glanced up.

  The high tops of the tall peaks above me had vanished under a dark grey layer of swirling mist. Thick cloud cover advanced slowly downhill, the mountain slowly disappearing. Above, expanding dark grey smothered the bright sunlight within moments. Lifting my muzzle, I scented snow on the still light breeze. Around me, the mountain creatures silenced, one by one, as they sensed the coming storm and sought shelter.

  A band of wild sheep bolted down the hill I’d just thought to travel up after my drink, paying me no heed as though my presence were of no concern. The following ram with his huge curling horns offered me deference in a quick, stay-away gesture of his heavy head before vanishing on the heels of his wives and offspring. I here I never even thought to kill one.

  A storm. Looks very bad.

  “There are caves about here. You may want to find one and shelter. Wait this out.”

  I glanced about, wondering if I had the time. This storm moved as quickly as the Wrath of Usa’a’mah. I slurped a quick drink and dashed uphill, seeking cover. Heavy, wet snow fell, whipped by a stiff wind. Sharp needles of ice stung my eyes and ears, frosting my heavy coat in white. The temperature dropped at an alarming rate, freezing the wet snow the instant it hit the ground. Yet unlike the frozen rain that forced Feria to fly away, this ice collected and grew.

  What else might serve as protection? An over-hanging rock, yes, I’d be sheltered from the wind but not the snow. A coarse thicket of heavy pi
ne trees, I’d be buried under. I climbed up a steep hill, loose rocks and stones sliding out from under my paws. I passed huge boulders, short cliffs, stunted trees and the thin grass that soon disappeared under the new-fallen snow.

  Leaping a dead tree, its trunk white from age and bare of any bark, I paused to look back. In the distance, the shallow valley I’d just crossed was all but hidden now behind a heavy veil of swirling wind-driven snow. This blizzard meant business. Despite my new magical cover, a triumphant grin forced my jaws apart. Let Brutal’s Tongu pets track me through that.

  “This is good cave country,” Darius commented.

  “A cave would be perfect,” I replied, still peering back over my shoulder. My hackles rose on their own accord and my grin faded. “If I can find one.”

  “Go higher. When these mountains were formed, they broke open and apart, creating many holes and crevices.”

  “You would know,” I said.

  What was that? A shadow, briefly there and gone, vanished into the white mist below me.

  I lifted my head, listening. I heard nothing but the wind. My sensitive nostrils caught no odor save the iron odor of ice. Something was out there. Not Brutal, nor Ja’Teel. But something.

  “What?”

  I sniffed, but the wind took my scent to whatever, or whoever was down below and following my trail. The blizzard intensified, falling thicker and heavier than before. The storm effectively concealed the creature.

  “Perhaps a bear,” Darius suggested. “Most likely it’s seeking last minute shelter for its winter hibernation. It’s that time of year.”

  “If so, I refuse to share.”

  Turning, I loped on, uphill, jumping rocks, deadwood and spiny thickets. Startling a small flock of feral sheep who found shelter under a cliff-face, I ignored their panicked bolt in all directions and climbed ever higher. I found small caves, holes under huge boulders, or deep crevices between joining cliffs, but nothing that might protect me. Ever higher and yet higher I climbed, the sheer steep grade to the mountainside slowed my forward momentum. Panting, almost blinded by the wind, snow and ice, I charged forward, using my hind legs as pistons to drive me up and up.

 

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