by Kyle Tolle
“I’m not coping. Everything I’ve done feels like flailing at the future. Trying to do something—anything—to help make sense of it.” He chewed on a mouthful of casserole. “But I always come away thwarted.”
Brust looked back to his plate, took a bite, and mulled on his thoughts.
Hantle looked out the window and found the sun. It was edging lower in the sky. He imagined being back on the Splitskin as the sun set and the wolf returned from the depths of the sky. Imagined watching the entirety of Suu-manth being taken into the wolf’s maw at once. Thousands dying without a moment’s notice.
Hantle swallowed and pushed the potatoes around on his plate. “The night’s coming and I feel powerless,” he said. “Much more so than previous nights. Other nights there was a goal to work toward: readying the city, preparing the defenses, traveling to the next town.” He looked to Dalence and Brust, though he did not expect an answer from either. “Tonight, can we only watch defeat descend unopposed?”
Brust kept chewing.
Dalence filled her glass from a jug of water. “You had no army in Founsel, but that did not stop you.” She drank. “You decided what was within your power, and you accomplished it. What is within your power tonight?”
Hantle shrugged. “Telling others of the creature . . . even though the governor forbade us to speak of it.”
“See,” Dalence said, “now that’s something. I’m more afraid of the people not knowing what threatens them than I am of the governor.”
“Yes. Keeping quiet would be the greater crime. If even a single family were to escape, it will have been worth it.” Encouraged, Hantle turned to his food again.
“If we are lucky, we will set the city to panic and empty it.” Dalence brought another piece of fish to her mouth.
“The governor be damned,” Hantle said.
Dalence nodded. “The governor be damned.”
Hantle had no thoughts on how to stop the wolf, but he felt sure that warning the city was one step closer to that end. Additionally, it was a way to honor his family and make amends. Uncertainty left his mind as he pictured the city in exodus. He poured himself a glass of water and drank deeply. Tonight, the wilderness would be safer than civilization.
Dalence finished the food on her plate and scooped another helping of casserole. “We also have a chance to be proactive.”
“What do you mean?” Hantle asked. “How can we be proactive?”
She spoke between bites of food. “If the wolf comes to Suu-manth tonight, we can’t control that. Which is why we ought to warn people. To give them a chance to get out. But before we crossed the Knuckles, it was just Suu-manth in danger. When we found out the beast left Iomesel, that changed. Now, when it returns, it could settle on scores of other cities as large as Suu-manth. If the wolf chooses another city, we may have time to figure out a plan.”
This idea had not occurred to Hantle before: that the wolf might not return to Suu-manth. He had been so bent on getting to Harsenth, then Bansuth, then Suu-manth that the scope of the danger had never seemed to extend beyond it. Yet she was right. He said, “If the creature attacks another town, it’ll be back the following night, and the one after. To consume more and grow further. If we use the intervening days to prepare, we can be ready to strike. No, we do not have an army tonight, but we can begin recruiting one tonight.”
“I remember what you said of Founsel,” Dalence said. “How people reacted differently to the danger. Some fled. Others stayed to hide. Others, like you, stayed and fought. It’s those in Suu-manth who want to fight that we need to organize.”
Hantle said, “Those disinclined to believe us will have a chance to see the proof overhead tonight.” Finished eating, he set his fork on the plate. “Perhaps the governor is not the only one with power. Individuals can do things she has no power to. An army of volunteers is the fiercest kind.” He pushed away his plate. “Though, while we may raise guns, we do not have weaponry heavy enough to properly resist the wolf.”
Dalence scooted her seat back and stood, now excited. “On the way down the Knuckles, you asked whether there was now a weapon large enough to kill the wolf. I cannot say if one exists. But the thought has stuck in my head ever since and it won’t let my mind go. If we do not have what we need, we can build it!” She walked to the front windows, threw back the curtains, and pointed out. “Set them right up there, on the mountainside. That’s how we can harness the city’s energy. Build the weapons to bring the damn beast down.”
Hantle smiled at her ferocity and stood too. “Then we best set to it.”
“The Marketplace draws crowds during the evening as well.”
Brust stabbed one last piece of potato and raised the fork to his mouth. “If the wolf does make for Suu-manth tonight, I’d rather die with a beer in my belly.”
“You do have the right idea,” Dalence said. Brust stood and listed into the table. “Something lighter will do you good, anyways.”
Brust walked to the back door and bent to slip on a pair of boots. Dalence reached out to steady him while he worked. Hantle followed them into the backyard. The sky glowed bright pink before them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
DALENCE ENTERED the open doorway of the Marketplace, and Brust and Hantle trailed her through the passageways where vendors of food, drink, and treats still conducted business. She knew the largest congregation would be in the spacious common area near the Bleedstone, and she worked her way there.
Sounds of talking and laughter grew louder as they approached. She ignored a man’s catcall and drew her group deeper into the crowd. At the center was a stand where people milled about. Two bartenders worked madly to serve pints of the brews on tap. Dalence wedged her way in. With a look over her shoulder, she motioned for Brust and Hantle to follow. The three squeezed up to the stand and a bartender—a grizzled, thin man—shouted over the nearby conversation. “What’ll it be?”
“What do you have?” Brust asked.
The bartender looked back at the logos on the casks, as if uncertain. “Eh, summer ale from Flathold. A red from Three Casks.”
Brust answered immediately. “Three Casks.”
The bartender looked to Dalence next.
“I’ll have the summer ale, please.”
Hantle said, “The summer ale, same as her.”
The man nodded, grabbed three empty mugs, and turned to the casks. Brust fished through his pockets for coin to pay the tab. The discussions around them ranged from fish reports to recent events to beer. Beyond the throng, long wooden tables stretched out, nearly full of occupants.
Their bartender returned, passed them the mugs, and took Brust’s coin. The three of them moved out of the crowd and took up seats that came free at the end of a nearby table. Dalence raised her mug and said, “To unexpected friends.” Hantle and Brust raised their mugs and joined her in drinking. She gave a look to the beer and took another sip. “The Flathold is a city far out on the plains. I don’t know much more than they make good beer.”
Brust smiled and said, “Trust me, that’s the most important fact there is to know about it.”
The three enjoyed their drinks amid the sounds of the crowd. Soon, though, Dalence was eager to turn to discussion, even if it made her nervous. She looked to her brother and Hantle and leaned closer. “How do we go about telling them?”
Brust shook his head and took a gulp, as if to excuse himself from answering. Hantle caught her eye and said, “I have been thinking it over. Mind if I start?”
Dalence leaned back, feeling relieved. “By all means.”
Hantle shut his eyes for a moment of preparation. Then he stood and walked away from the table, holding his beer mug high. “I am not here,” he said, his voice growing in volume, pressing over those nearby, “to tell you what to do.” Those closest began to quiet. “Only to tell you”—the quiet spread farther afield—“what you should know.” Within two sentences most of the discussion had died down and Hantle kept his speech loud.
“Something the governor would prefer to keep secret.” The stragglers acquiesced to the shouting man and all the court’s faces pointed to him. “We all may be dead by night’s end.” Hantle paused and took a drink but launched ahead before the side chatter could pick back up. “Did you see the sky last night and the portents it held?”
Dalence read a mixture of emotions on the crowd: frustration, interest, impatience, confusion. A handful of replies came back. “Cheers to the sky!” “Will someone shut him up?” “Meteors. A meteor shower.” “What’s he saying?”
Hantle took another sip and wiped foam from his lips. “A demon has prowled the lands and killed thousands. Last night, it leapt into the sky to grow beyond measure.” He pointed to Dalence. “She’s seen the beast. Told me it jumped from the planet to the firmament. I didn’t believe her at first and I’ve been chasing it for days. But it’s true. It killed my family and I want to claim its soul. To keep it from claiming yours.”
Hantle set his mug down and stood on the bench to gain visibility. A few people in the crowd lobbed comments but he had the crowd’s attention. Even Dalence was eager to hear what he said next. “You are welcome to laugh me away, to attribute what I say to drink or to madness. But you will see, after dusk has come, that the sky reveals a wolf. Bloodied teeth and gargantuan claws. And you will hope it does not come for Suu-manth. Then, I hope you will be eager to join us”—he motioned to Dalence and Brust—“to bring its end before it can bring ours.”
Hantle stepped off the bench, and silence hung over the crowd for a few heartbeats. Then the chatter started, quietly at first, but it built into an uproar. Individuals pushed through the group and approached Hantle. Dalence soon lost sight of him in a sea of hands and faces. Several others approached her and asked her to explain what he had meant. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw handfuls of people leaving the court and Brust shrugging off questions as he reached to finish off Hantle’s mug.
She told her story of seeing the wolf in Bansuth, meeting Hantle, and the astronomers on Mount Vulteeb who witnessed the creature leaving Iomesel. Accusations and inquiries followed. The naysayers, she petitioned, should join them outside once darkness had come. Through breaks in the ceiling, the purple and deep-red sky signaled that it was not far off. Her details spurred others to back off, consider the implications, and rush away through dim-lit passageways.
Hantle emerged from the roiling crowd and drew close to Dalence. Behind, someone called out, “You failed before, why wouldn’t you fail again?”
“Because”—Hantle turned to face the accuser—“Dalence has designs for weaponry to challenge him. Once we gather a force to build them, these killworks, we will stand the best chance of any on the planet to bring the wolf down.” Hantle picked up his mug only to find it emptied. Brust belched and looked away. Hantle abandoned the mug, straightened up, and continued. “Success is by no means guaranteed, but when is it ever?”
Brust stood, steadied himself for a few seconds, and moved toward the bartender’s stand. Dalence felt compelled to follow him, to watch over him. She spoke to the group to take her leave. “Join us in the clearing before the Marketplace. We will be there shortly to watch for the wolf.” She disengaged and Hantle followed her cue.
The bartender refilled their mugs and Brust passed him more coin. The three made for the Marketplace’s main entrance, to exit into the cooling night. Black and purple mingled overhead as the sun dipped farther below the horizon.
Dalence drank and craned her neck to the sky. How large would it be tonight? Some time passed as the night deepened and the stars shone brightly. People filtered out of the Marketplace and others walked in from nearby neighborhoods. The bartenders rolled out a cask in an attempt to follow the crowd. The number gathered there soon surprised Dalence.
An occasional streak flashed in the sky. The meteor shower had come. At first, the crowd looked to each meteor trail with expectation. But the wolf did not yet make an appearance.
Someone called out, “I bet they’ve taken bets on how long they can keep us out here waiting.”
A young girl gasped and pointed. “Is that it? Is that the wolf?”
A man waved her off without looking. “That’s what they’ll have us do all night. Hang on every blip we see.”
Commotion spread from the girl to her family and others besides. Dalence located the light source in question. A pinprick grew in size and brightness as she watched. It persisted much longer than a meteor and did not move quite so quickly. The spot grew a long silver tail, much like a comet. In time, the shape was recognizable. The wolf. It zigzagged through the sky, the burning slash looking bizarre as it faded.
The meteor shower’s intensity had increased, one following right after the other. Farther out, the creature passed by the moon and his shadow raced across its face. The beast grew in size as he darted closer. Dalence could now make out individual teeth. A scream went up from the girl and she clutched her mother’s leg.
Hantle leaned over and said, “It could be more colossal than the entire range of the Knuckles.”
The wolf came to a stop and surveyed his surroundings. Its fur was much darker than before, though Dalence was not sure if it had actually changed color or was just singed from racing through the sky. Her heart clenched as she waited for it to lock eyes with her and bear down on Suu-manth. Instead, it moved through the sky and chased a meteor’s flare. He caught nothing and raced in pursuit of a few others before he succeeded in capturing one in his jaws. As he swallowed, the ball glowed down the length of his throat. It went dark when it hit his stomach and a concussion reached Dalence’s ears.
A collective gasp went up and mutterings spread through the crowd. Fragments of a discussion made their way to her. “The governor didn’t take that seriously?” “Wouldn’t even give us a chance to say goodbye to our loved ones?” “If you don’t say you love them each night already, what difference will a few hours make?” People ran off, promising to bring back others to see for themselves. Behind, she heard a different group. “Every person thinks they’d like to know the day they’ll die. But who sits staring into death’s face and doesn’t wish it’d come quickly already?” “That sounds exactly like giving up.”
The next meteors were taken more swiftly, and Dalence felt the concussions rock the onlookers. She was certain the wolf had grown as much in size as it had in intensity. From somewhere else came, “If we left now, could we escape? Or hide? Something?” “If you’re going to die, face it head on.” The wolf’s throat now had a persistent glow. Occasionally, it disappeared over the horizon in pursuit. Dalence was relieved to see the creature as it returned, because that meant it had not descended to the surface.
A question went up, targeting Hantle or Dalence. “You believe we can kill that?” The tone indicated skepticism. Above, the wolf came to a stop and let up a howl that reverberated off the mountains. The hair on Dalence’s neck stood on end. Sparks from the eaten meteors escaped the wolf’s throat and trailed off until their embers darkened. His belly glowed a molten red through the thick fur.
Dalence stood transfixed until the beast moved again. She swallowed a lump in her throat and replied, “What option do we have other than to try?” Recklessness flared in a corner of her mind and spread. “I can picture a crossbow bolt piercing its side, and a trebuchet launching shot that explodes upon impact. Pierced and burning, it would crash to the ground.”
She could not tell who spoke next. “Can you imagine the value of its pelt?”
“More than all the relics in the world, I’d wager.”
“Or the glory of felling that bastard?”
Hantle nudged her elbow and whispered, “Good. We have some interest.”
Dalence spoke up. “We will have to build the killworks. Fortunately for us, Suu-manth is filled with people of ingenuity.”
Brust raised his mug and beer sloshed over the side to run down his arm. “This creature took our parents. I want to make things right. Help balance the world.
You others have a chance yet to prevent it from taking your loved ones.”
Over the course of several hours, the creature grew many times in size. The wolf darted after one meteor only to get distracted by another. He chased one, then a second, then many others without eating any at all. Dalence thought it seemed to enjoy the sport of it. Once more, it halted and let up an enormous howl. Its stomach had faded to a barely detectable luminescence. Slowly, it rotated to face the moon.
With a snarl, he raced to the orb, where his landing threw up a large cloud of silvery dust. The wolf reared back and slashed with claws that left deep gouges. The moon did not yield like the meteors it devoured. He left scars along the surface but was too small yet to do more damage. Frustrated, the wolf jumped from the moon and disappeared into the far depths of the night. His trace faded quickly after him.
The crowd observed the final moments in silence before stirring again. Dalence spoke to Hantle. “Those claw marks will be additional proof.”
She found Brust seated near the corral fence, slumped and asleep. She shook his arm to rouse him and helped him up. His head oscillated from side to side, and he did not seem to know where he was. Instead, he asked, “Did us leaving Mom and Dad mean we thought we were better than them?”
“No, Brust, it means that times change and we can’t all live similar lives.”
The corral’s attendant had either left for the evening or was amid the animated group. She passed the leaning Brust to Hantle so she could round up their steeds. Brust muttered unintelligibly. Once she had the animals, they helped him splay across the saddle of his horse.
Hantle looked around them, the clearing dimly lit by a few burning lamps. Dalence saw a thin smile. He said, “Looks like we might have the help we need to build your weapons.” She nodded and patted Brust’s horse.
Turning to the crowd, she shouted, “Return here at seven tomorrow morning and we can begin building the means to kill the wolf. There is no way to know when it may next visit us, so we must work swiftly. With our efforts and some luck, we will stand a chance.”