Under the Wolf's Shadow

by A. Katie Rose

  “My prince?” he asked, his head down, his tail swept low under his belly. He may be human by birth, but his wolf instincts remained firm.

  “Eat, brother,” I said, my own stomach satisfied.

  He gulped it down, his tail wagging in quick flicks between his hind legs.

  I lay down, licking my muzzle. Ly’Tana snuggled next to me, within the fold of my front paws. Flipping my tail over her, I dropped my head down, enveloping her small body between my neck and chest. “Come closer, all of you,” I said. “We’ll give new meaning to the phrase ‘dog pile’.”

  Obeying me, one by one they all lay down around and next to me, huddling close, sharing my warmth, offering theirs. As the night plunged the winter temperatures into the killing zone, we slept reasonably warm and definitely well-fed through the rest of the night.

  The day of my death dawned bright, clear and beautiful.

  I gazed upon my last sunrise on this earth, awed by its simple, rugged beauty. The sun’s power rose over the eastern horizon, paling the pink, distant clouds into nothing and surging yellow and gold in brilliant magnificence.

  Today was a good day to die.

  “What are you thinking?” Ly’Tana asked, sitting beside me as I watched the sun rise and revel in its simple glory.

  I glanced down at her. “Of how much I love you.”

  “Liar,” she growled. “I can scent your deceit a mile off. You’re thinking you’re going to die this day.”

  “If you know–”

  “Why did I ask?”

  “It’s a fair question.”

  She turned her muzzle away from me, ears perked toward the glorious arrival of the new day. “I just wanted to you to admit it.”

  “That I believe I’ll die soon? You know I do.”

  Her tail swished across the snow’s crust. “Then I’ll die with you.”

  “Ly’Tana–”

  “I want nothing else,” she said calmly, quietly. “Alun died keeping me alive. Now he rides in glory with his Sele and our beloved Lady. His sacrifice shall not be in vain. If I can achieve as much, then I will die happy, content.”

  She finally gazed up at me, her green eyes soft, smiling. When at last she spoke, her words fell soft and simple on my ears.

  “I’ll not live without you.”

  I choked, unable to speak, to breathe. I hung my head, my muzzle pointed at the snow, my eyes shut. “I can’t watch you die.”

  “You don’t have much choice, now do you?”

  “I–” I began, but the presence of Rygel, Kel’Ratan, Silverruff, Little Bull and Thunder intruded upon our one captured moment of privacy. I shut my teeth and swung my head away, angry, afraid.

  “Her fate is not your responsibility,” Darius said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Just that. Don’t take on any burden not your own.”

  “We need to start now, my prince,” Rygel said.

  He may have sensed he intruded upon something personal, for he held back, his face, his muzzle, turned slightly away. As sensitive as a randy goat, Kel’Ratan sat down and examined his paws as though they held all the secrets life had to offer. Silverruff scratched a persistent itch in his left ear while Thunder pretended flies attacked his tail. Little Bull faced away, watching the sheer cliff face as though it might flee like a wild bull attacked by a pride of lions.

  “Somehow,” Ly’Tana said, rising from her seat in the snow to turn northward, “I very much doubt any of us has a choice in our own fates. We all must choose what we do with the time we are given.”

  “You’re saying our fates are sealed?” I asked, following her.

  She glanced back, her green eyes gleaming. “Yes,” she replied, her tail waving. “And, at the same time . . . no.”

  “Just like a female,” Kel’Ratan muttered at my shoulder. “They always need in the last word and it not making sense at all.”

  Coughing, snorting, I followed him up the hill.

  An hour before noon I stood, with my pack at my heels, staring into the cavern. Straight above our heads, the wall, as it seemed odd to call it a cliff, rose high until lost into the blinding sun. Listening hard, I heard nothing. My nose sought for any odor of danger before I led them inside, yet found none. In hearing and scenting nothing my hackles stood on end. I should hear or smell something. Strangely, I found no evidence of anything living in there at all. No bears hibernating, no mice, no previous nests for bats or birds, no droppings, no lingering aroma of creatures in the past using this place as a dwelling. Certainly no humans had ever been here.

  The cave mouth itself was not large, perhaps only slightly larger than my body. Its rim smooth and round, the stone floor that I saw lay straight and even, as though a stone cutter had laid it. This fissure had been manufactured, and not by nature.

  Somehow, I knew this place was sterile. No living creature would enter. No wind blew through, no dust settled on the floor, no dead leaves or grass would rustle under our feet. When we entered, we walked into another dimension. Into another world.

  I glanced over my shoulder. “Not too late,” I said. “You can back out now, go back to the dragons, and I’ll not think the less of you. But should you accompany me now, there is no turning back.”

  “Don’t be absurd,” Ly’Tana growled. “I dare you to stop me.”

  “I’m with you to the end,” Rygel said, stepping up boldly, his tail swinging.

  “You’re not leaving me behind,” Silverruff declared, jumping forward.

  The other three, Kel’Ratan, Little Bull and Thunder growled and snapped at one another for the honor of stepping up next. In the end, all three, cursing one another, scrambled to join me at the same time.

  “We’re with you,” Thunder said.

  “Till death,” said Kel’Ratan.

  “And beyond,” added Little Bull.

  I swallowed, my throat convulsing. What did I do to earn such loyalty?

  “You were you,” Darius said.

  My eyes rolling of their own accord, I jerked my chin at the entrance. “I don’t quite see the words that say, “’Abandon all hope all ye who enter here’, but I suppose it’s still true.”

  “I was joking, you know.”

  I gasped, feigning amazement. “A god with a sense of humor. Who’d have thunk it.”

  “Just wait until I’m free.”

  “Come on,” I said to my companions. “Time to kill a monster.”

  “Do we have a plan?” Rygel asked, trotting gaily up beside Ly’Tana, who walked at my flank.

  I paced slowly past the threshold of the cave, trying to watch everywhere at once. Ly’Tana hugged my right side, her fangs white against her red-grey muzzle, also surveying the area as though walking into enemy territory. Which, I supposed we did.

  Rygel didn’t seem to project the same watchfulness, yet Little Bull flanked him, his hackles up. Kel’Ratan followed on Ly’Tana’s tail while Thunder marched boldly at my left.

  “No plan,” I answered absently. “Not yet.”

  Inside the cave, I stopped, glancing around with interest. Unlike other caves, there were no shadows, no light bouncing in from the sun outside. The light inside remained the same, the greyish color of noonday under a sheltering cover. The stone walls, trimmed and smooth, rounded above and below us. No breeze filtered past my nose, no odors permeated from anywhere. Most strange of all, the cave’s temperature rose to the equivalent of a spring day. Those of us with human skin might be quite comfortable inside that place.

  After a few rods in, the cave abruptly ended.

  “It’s a dead end?” Kel’Ratan asked, ranging forward, his whiskers tickling over a solid wall.

  “The barrier between the living and the dead.”

  “That’s the barrier?” I asked, running my nose up and down it. “It looks solid.”

  “Put your paw in it.”

  Obedient, I half-reared to place my right front paw against the rock.

  I all but fell forward into
nothing.

  Growling, I leaped back, treading upon Ly’Tana, who yelped and scrambled out from under my heavy hindquarters.

  “Will you listen to me now?”

  “I, er,” I coughed and started again. “Of course.”

  “I can no longer speak to you. Once you pass this doorway, you enter the realm of the damned.”

  I gulped, my ears flat. “Very well.”

  “My son–“

  I perked my ears at this very strange tone I now heard from him. “Darius?”

  Feeling slightly ashamed, I choked, glanced aside and tried again. “Father?”

  “I cannot, for obvious reasons, help you in there. But know this: whatever the outcome, I am proud of you.”

  “I’ll free you,” I said, my voice hoarse. “No matter what.”

  “One more thing,” Darius said.

  “That is?”

  “I’ll see you soon.”

  My jaws parted in a short laugh. “I expect you will at that.”

  One way or another.

  Boldly leading the way, I passed through the solid-seeming barrier. My body tingled. At one moment, I felt first freezing cold. Then I panted, as hot as the noon-time sun in the very next instant. Every hair on my body stood on end like soldiers under inspection. Without knowing exactly how, I’d passed beyond the world of the living.

  In crossing the barrier, I entered not just the world of the dead. I stepped into the realm of the wretched and the damned. The dead rejoiced with their gods in their halls. But here, evil resided.

  Ly’Tana yelped as the barrier connected. She jumped forward, skittish, to my side, her every red hair standing on end. She panted, half-growling, her pink tongue licking her exposed fangs. Without anyone to fight, she halted, calming herself. Her lips smoothed down over her defenses.

  Kel’Ratan and Rygel leaped through next, snarling and cursing. On their heels, Little Bull and Thunder loped into view. Like the rest of us, they snarled and grumbled, seeking the invisible enemy that bit their rumps.

  Somewhere, a gong sounded, resonating through the cavern, echoing into it, reverberating and tingling along my spine before it was lost, jangling, in the roof.

  “Did you just ring the front doorbell?” Kel’Ratan snarled. “Not a bloody good idea.”

  “I doubt we had much choice,” I said, glancing back as the last of my pack, Silverruff, crossed the barrier.

  “What the hell–” he snapped, spinning round to slay the enemy that wasn’t there.

  Silverruff’s hackles didn’t relax until I spoke. “Chill, brother,” I murmured. “You’re dead now.”

  “Very funny, Big Dog,” Thunder growled. “We’re not dead, we’re just–”

  “Just what?” I asked, my muzzle over my shoulder. “’Almost dead’? Is that like being ‘almost pregnant’?”

  “Can I kill him?” Silverruff asked Ly’Tana. “You won’t miss him, I promise.”

  Ly’Tana’s tail waved gently. “You’re such a dear. However, we do still need him. If only until tomorrow.”

  Silverruff glared as though his eyes alone might slay me where I stood. “Tomorrow, you’re mine.”

  The barrier hung there, like a grey haze, the short passage to the entrance easily seen as though through a fine mist. I hoped the survivors among us could pass through it again, back into the world of the living.

  “All right,” I said, taking the lead once more. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “Don’t you think we should discuss a strategy?” Rygel asked.

  “Not much point until we know what we’re dealing with,” I answered.

  The tunnel, if it was a tunnel, darkened slowly as I paced slowly on. While I used every sense at my disposal, physical and otherwise, I detected nothing threatening, much less anything living. The passageway widened out enough so that we might all walk abreast had we chosen to. Yet, we clustered together, in a tight bunch, searching for our prey. No one spoke.

  The tunnel continued to grow wider and wider the further we walked until I saw neither the walls nor the roof. The light, or lack of it, remained the same, the color of early dusk. In either wolf or human form, none of us would have much difficulty in seeing.

  Not that we saw much at all, thus far. The vicinity remained a featureless landscape, no rocks, no columns, no grit. We saw, heard, scented and tasted nothing at all.

  The thought crossed my mind that time here had ceased to exist, and we walked through a void in both time and space.

  “If this is hell,” Kel’Ratan commented, “where’s the fire and brimstone?”

  “What’s brimstone?” Thunder asked.

  “What’s that?” Silverruff asked on the heels of his question.

  Light flickered a distance away. At least it appeared to be quite a ways off, but appearances might very well deceive the eye.

  “Our target,” I answered.

  Moving forward once, more, I quickened our pace slightly. “Spread out,” I ordered. “Stay together, but keep a length between us. If attacked, we may need to move quickly and we don’t want to get in each other’s way.”

  Thunder still paced to my left as Ly’Tana edged away from me. With Rygel and Kel’Ratan right behind us, Silverruff and Thunder chose our outer flanks to guard. Each wolf, me included, walked lightly, ready to fight at the slightest hint of danger. We slowed our pace slightly, using every sense at our disposal to seek out the Guardian before it found us.

  The place, and it’s distance, did indeed deceive my eye. Long before I expected to, we arrived at a doorway. The source of the light originated beyond its curved lintels. Though it flickered like a torch, its sheer brilliance and power belied a single flame.

  “What are you doing?” Ly’Tana growled as I stepped boldly across the threshold.

  “Just taking a peek.”

  The huge chamber beyond appeared to be just that. As wide as a palace throne room, a simple sconce on the wall to my right burned with a single flame. Yet, that small fire lit the entire hall. Long forsaken bones littered the stone floor, discarded over the centuries. I supposed even monsters must eat. But where did it get the food?

  Ly’Tana peeked around my shoulder, gaping in silence. Not to be outdone, the others pushed their way to the front, muttered curses and low growls heralding their arrival.

  All sound ceased as we beheld the Guardian.

  It sat on a stone bench against the far wall, watching us with calm, dark brown eyes.

  “Well now,” Kel’Ratan drawled. “What do you make of that.”

  I had expected something ugly and, well, monstrous. The creature, while not beautiful, was rather handsome in a vague, brutish sort of way. A bull’s massive head with black curving horns between sat atop huge man-like shoulders. Very thick black-brown hair covered it from its head to its belly, similar to a shaggy mane. Its tawny hips and legs were those of a lion, complete with a long lion tail, flipping lazily back and forth between its paws. Eagle’s wings, the snowy, purest of whites, lay furled over its shoulders.

  “Can that thing even move?” Silverruff asked. “It looks so–ungainly.”

  “If it couldn’t, the Lords would never have created it,” I answered. “Never underestimate it.”

  In its human hands, across its lap, lay a short heavy spear. Crudely crafted of stone, it ended in a very sharp tip. I realized this Guardian hewed the thing itself. It spent its time here in this hole, over the centuries waiting for me . . . patiently chipping a weapon of the only thing it had to work with: rock.

  It rose ponderously to its feet. I swear it stood two rods high, its muscular shoulders bunched with all the muscle of a very big bull. Its wings half-spread, and its lion tail coiled itself around its legs. Complete with a cat’s natural agility, I knew taking this one down would be no mean feat.

  “Turn me back into myself,” Ly’Tana suddenly said.

  I exchanged a quick glance with Rygel. “Why? You might be safer as a wolf.”

  “I want to try someth
ing.”

  Rygel flapped his ears, a wolf shrug. Instantly, Ly’Tana staggered on two feet instead of four as she regained her human balance. Taking her bow from her back, she selected an arrow from her quiver.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Kel’Ratan snapped, his hackles up. “You’re just going to piss it off.”

  Since she didn’t understand a word he said, Ly’Tana calmly nocked the arrow and drew the string to her ear.

  “You don’t suppose this will end with her arrow in its heart, do you?” Rygel asked, watching her with fascination.

  “I doubt it,” I said. “It can’t be killed that easily.”

  Ly’Tana’s arrow struck it dead center.

  As though irritated by a biting fly, the Guardian glanced down at the arrow sticking from its chest. Its right hand left its grip on the granite spear and plucked the arrow out and dropped it to the floor. The lack of blood on its tip informed me it barely penetrated the thick pelt over its vulnerable heart and lungs.

  “That’s like bleeding armor,” Kel’Ratan growled.

  “And very educational,” I said. “Now we know something of its protections.”

  “And something else very important,” Silverruff added, his grin wide as he glanced at me.

  “What?” Little Bull complained. “That thing can’t be killed.”

  “Of course it can,” Silverruff said, his tail waving gently.

  “What do you see that we’re not?” I asked.

  “Check out those wings,” Silverruff said, jerking his chin at the Guardian.

  “So?” Thunder asked. “Maybe it’ll fly and attack us from above like the griffins do.”

  “No,” Rygel said, studying the creature. “It couldn’t get into the air. Those wings aren’t big enough. It’s not proportioned right to be able to fly.”

  “But they do give us one interesting advantage,” Silverruff said. “It can’t see behind it.”

  “I’ll be damned,” Kel’Ratan breathed.

  “Don’t say that,” Little Bull said urgently. “Not in this place.”