by Kyle Tolle
The wolf soon grew weary of chasing bits of debris and circled his way to Romd’s surface. Yellow air rushed away in what must have been a hellacious storm as the beast’s bulk hit the ground. He gave a few curious sniffs, then reared up on his hind legs and bore down on his front paws. Cracks radiated from the impact and dust swirled into the sky. Several more times the wolf did this, the rifts spreading farther and deeper each time. A carpet of splinters lay beneath him as he jumped from the ground and dove at the weakened planet. His head disappeared underneath the crust, leaving his tail to wag in the air and stir up yellow tornadoes. The canine’s body went rigid as he braced and extracted his head. His fur was covered in molten rock that glowed a cherry red. Blobs of the planet-blood dripped onto the surface and turned jet-black.
In again dove the wolf, and splinters shifted to jut chaotically from the crust. The beast shook his head and chasms spread throughout the rest of the world. Neither Darbor nor Bellice could see the wolf feed, but they saw the effects. Dust billowed out of geysers and sinkholes opened up as the planetary core disappeared within the canine’s belly. Eruptions from new volcanoes coughed boulders into the sky that arced down to the shattered surface, punching holes in the eggshell crust.
Drops pelted the back of Hantle’s head and he turned to see an opaque wall of rain some ways off. Clouds thickened overhead but Romd was still visible for the moment. He moved to place a tarp over a majority of the telescope, including Darbor, but left the stargazing side exposed. Under the sheet, Darbor continued to call out his observations. Hantle then covered Bellice and her telescope in a similar fashion. Bellice asked for someone to wipe the lens of water droplets and Dalence obliged her.
The canine withdrew his head from the globe and licked at the magma on his snout. He had grown in size yet again. Romd looked more like a mound of scree than a planet. He scooped scraps into his maw and swallowed them whole. To the astronomers, the wolf and Romd were equal in size. Rocks tumbled into sinkholes and the holes grew in diameter as the edges eroded and slipped down. Powerful ejections launched pieces of the bedrock away to chase the stray moon. The wolf stalked and batted these emissions with his claws before devouring them.
When the largest chunks were gone, the wolf returned to the skeleton of Romd. In the brief time he had left it, the oddments had melded together under their own weight to form a lumpy concretion. In three sharp pounces, the mass buckled further and fractured permanently. A shockwave rippled through the stones and they burst into myriad particles. The beast snapped his jaws shut over a few nuggets that skimmed past and leapt to toy with and feast on the rest. Romd’s residue glimmered like a handful of crystal flecks scattered by the wind.
On Iomesel, the clouds merged together to obscure the last pieces of sky. Both Darbor and Bellice emerged from the tarps and drew the protection over the rest of the telescopes. Wind buffeted Hantle as he moved to a shelter. The storm overhead let loose the rain it bore and inundated the city in a deluge. Gusts carried ribbons of water under the shelter and drenched those crouching there. For some time, the storm raged and none in Suu-manth followed the wolf’s actions above.
A gargantuan forepaw descended through the clouds and its claws raked through the Knuckles like they were little more than clay. Hantle’s head nodded and he jerked to wakefulness. The dream ran off his back and into the ground with the rain. Dalence knocked his shoulder and he rubbed weariness away before making eye contact. She placed a pinch of jursant under her tongue and handed him the pouch. Hantle followed suit and the urge to close his eyes dissipated.
The tarps nearby were held down by stones, but the fabric’s loose edges whipped in the wind. Farther off, a few torches continued to burn, silhouetting the covered weaponry. Unbroken cloud cover above meant Hantle and his group had to bide time. He turned to thoughts of his family. He pictured a day, thousands of years ago, when Lorenca, Dolcium, and Hultier had rowed into the Trasach Cove. A gentle breeze brought small swells, which moved the boat in a rhythm. Each of them attached bait to a hook and cast out line. Hantle looked to each member of his family. For a brief few seconds, he could picture everything about them, except their faces. These remained blank. A spark of worry caught in his stomach, when at last his mind painted the eyes, noses, and mouths of his loved ones. How long would it be until the memory faded and he could no longer recall any portion of their persons? Even now, the memory grew fuzzy at the edges and the clear day blurred into the current night.
Reluctantly, the clouds separated and the rain slowed. A tear of sky grew into an opening through which they could train their telescopes. The observers followed a vein in the sky, the wolf. He rushed along, toward Seligar, picking up speed as he closed in. The creature plunged like a dart into the planet. Through the blue orb he pierced, emerging from the other side, where the gases spread out like blood trailing a bullet from an exit wound. The fiend looped around and inhaled strands of vapor. Patches reminiscent of fog floated away, and what had been Seligar lost coherence. The canine ignored its remnants and moved away so erratically that Darbor and Bellice both lost view of him.
Darbor’s assistant remarked that Coubae and Iomesel were the only planets that remained. The comment brought Hantle’s focus to their imminent plan. Eleven o’clock was minutes away, but the opening in the clouds sealed itself shut and thickened. From north to south, the cloud layer ran unbroken. Drizzle resumed and, with a knot of anxiety in his throat, Hantle covered the telescopes once again. He called to Dalence, Brust, and all the rest to move with him to the killworks. They tore off the covers, exposing the devices to the elements. A faint strobing to the north indicated the keeper’s success in modifying his lighthouse. Yet Hantle guessed its visibility in Suu-manth meant clouds obscured the sky over the coast and reflected the beam back to the ground. He instructed the volunteers to aim the weapons at Dusath, and, presently, heard horses straining at the load. Several minutes passed and Hantle wondered if the storm would render all their efforts irrelevant. Then the light in Dusath went out.
CHAPTER FORTY
A DULL ROAR reached Dalence’s ears and she stared toward the darkened sky above Dusath. Over several seconds, the sound grew in intensity. In a blink, something impacted her chest, ripped her from her feet, and carried her yards from where she stood. Her breath left her when she landed on her back, but it took a moment for her body to realize this and struggle for a gasp.
The roar receded and, as she pushed herself to her elbows, she saw everyone had been thrown. Her gaze sped to the killworks. Fear abated when she noted that they stood solid. The clouds were gone from the sky and the entire star field lay above her, expansive. On the northern horizon, she saw the wolf illuminated by the lighthouse. A tsunami wave rushed away from the beast and temporarily blotted out the lighthouse as it drowned the coastline. When the shockwave cleared the Suu-manth, dust, vapor, and flecks of cloud swept in to fill the void it left.
Dalence clambered to her feet and helped Brust to his. “The wolf is come!” she cried. “To your positions.”
The gale had extinguished all the lanterns, but the wolf caught and reflected enough of the lighthouse beams to be seen. Brust looked through the sight and instructed his sister as she cranked a lever to fine-tune the trebuchet’s aim. Others beside her yanked the leveraging arm farther down and stood by to light the projectile’s fuse. Just yards away, Hantle and his crew readied the crossbow.
The wolf towered above the horizon and the world shook with each step it took. A scar marred the charcoal-colored pelt on its left shoulder. Its eyes glowed with madness. One ear pivoted to sounds while the other hung a ragged mess. It peeled its lips back and bared white, glistening teeth. Patches of obsidian, left from his feasting on Romd, clung to the creature’s throat, and imperfections in the glass scattered light.
Dalence made eye contact with Hantle as the crossbow’s aiming gears ceased their clinking. She nodded and Hantle squinted into his sight. He must have been satisfied, because he brought the lever do
wn. The crossbow jerked and the arrow sped away. Beside her, Brust clasped his bad arm with the good and held his breath.
The wolf slumped forward as the bolt drove deep into his right shoulder. A bark escaped its throat that Dalence felt in her chest. The arrow had pierced all the way to the fletching at its end. The wolf staggered as it took weight off the injured limb. Blood poured from the wound around the arrow shaft and ran down his leg. Brust laughed and Hantle called for his crew to reload.
Dalence drew a mallet from her belt. She eyed Brust. “Sighted?” The few pieces of ammunition gave them no spares. Every shot must strike.
“Aye,” Brust said.
A hiss told her the fuse was lit. Dalence swung the mallet, knocked away the firing latch, and watched the trebuchet weight drop. The arm spun in a blur and the sling loosed its shot. A trail of sparks arced toward Dusath. She lost the projectile to the darkness but caught a brief glimpse as it passed through a beam of the lighthouse. The wolf snapped his head and clenched his jaws around the shot as if it were a meteorite from the sky. The burning ballistic concussed when it hit the stomach, and the fiend grew larger. Grew enough in fact that the arrow fell in pieces from its thickening hide and blood coagulated in the laceration.
The demon looked toward Suu-manth and Dalence felt the stare bore into her core. She shivered and heard the winch pull the crossbow drawstrings taut. As the wolf reared up, Hantle fired the second arrow. It had made the same movement on Romd, in order to shatter the surface. Dalence braced for the coming tremor but the arrow impaled the canine’s gut. The beast shriveled up and collapsed on the ground. She watched the wolf scramble to its feet, lean over to the Knuckles, and sink its fangs into the mountains.
In the time it took Dalence’s group to haul the trebuchet arm back to receive the next projectile, the fiend had swallowed Mount Vulteeb. Brust checked the weapon’s sight once more and gave Dalence the okay. The wolf sat on his haunches, bayed into the sky, and revealed how blood from the second arrow coated its belly. Dalence feared the howl would split her head in half as she hit the firing latch. Away sailed the shot and its ignition cord left behind burning breadcrumbs.
The shot missed the creature and flew over its left shoulder. A split second later, though, it detonated and the wolf’s call ceased as fragments of stone pierced his back. The impact spurred the creature forward and he scooped up the lighthouse with his lower jaw. Dusath snapped black as his saliva doused the lighthouse torch. The canine’s form was yet partially visible—ghost-like and illuminated from within.
She heard Hantle shout for the third bolt and Dalence felt a surge of excitement. Three of the four shots had landed and the beast was shaken. They had one more apiece. Enough, she thought, to bring the bastard down. In the welkin, two meteors left their own ephemeral trails. The canine stepped toward Suu-manth and blood dripped from his gut. Hantle adjusted the aim to follow the creature and cranked the crossbow down. The last arrow flew with a twang. Lightning branched over the mountains and, in the brief light, Dalence saw the bolt meet a piece of solidified magma on the wolf’s throat. Instead of passing through and puncturing its jugular, the arrow reflected off the obsidian face and spun erratically to the ground. Their aim was perfect but that had not been enough. Dalence urged her compatriots to move swiftly.
The ground heaved up as the canine buried his head under the surface and swallowed. Boulders thrown up by the move traveled with enough speed to leave the planet, glowing bright red as they soared into orbit. The trebuchet lobbed its final grenade and Dalence let up a yell to accompany it. The wolf lunged into the hole before him with a greedy desire. Their explosive shot burst high above him and the beast chomped at the world, unfazed. His attention turned next to the rocks he had launched skyward. He moved to the Knuckles and jumped after the burning rubble. Iomesel lurched as the demon pushed off the mountain range and the night in Suu-manth instantly turned to day.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
THE PLANET MOVED like a cosmic rug being pulled from under his feet and Hantle pitched backward to the ground. From the depths of night, the beast had forced the day upon them and the sun sat directly overhead. Hantle stood and watched the wolf disappear, beyond the eastern horizon, into Iomesel’s penumbra. A wave of air buffeted him, seeking the emptiness left behind by the wolf. Hantle shivered, as it was yet as cold as midnight.
Unsure of what to do, Hantle moved to Brust and helped him stand. The fall had reinjured Brust’s wound and blood soaked through the bandaging. Dalence pushed herself up and clutched her necklace. A moment later, the wolf emerged into sunlight from the west. It kept moving through the sky at breakneck speed and disappeared once more.
Flocks of birds took to the air and animals wailed as a tremor passed through the ground. A building on the periphery of the city saw its roof collapse, and a nearby bridge toppled into the water rushing beneath it. The wolf cruised across the sky and another spasm surged under the city. Rocks broke free of their hold on the Knuckles and tumbled in an avalanche. An incredible clamor washed over Hantle and he extended an arm to Dalence and Brust to stabilize them all. The weaponry heaved and failed and crashed, along with other structures, and the air resonated with cacophonous ruin.
Miles to the east, within Suu-manth itself, a great chasm yawned. Lake water drained into the gulch and steam spewed skyward. The wolf orbited past again and brought reinvigorated quaking that forced Hantle down. Dalence started to say something but her voice faltered and Brust clutched her in his good arm. The vapor and warmth of the steam from the trench drifted to them on a wind. Cliffsides slipped down the mountains and the sky was thick with vibration and fear. A scream rose from Hantle’s own throat to join the shrieks of others. He covered his eyes and waited for a landslide to bury them all.
Gradually, the convulsions lessened. A crack of thunder broke around them and the ground settled to a nervous jitter. Hantle uncovered his face and saw the wolf dashing away from Iomesel. After a few final spasms, the shuddering ceased and the world lay quiet. The air settled and sunrays pricked at his skin. Relief flooded Hantle’s body and he loosened his tensed muscles. “We drove it away.” His voice sounded as if it originated leagues away. He spoke to both no one and everyone. The wolf’s form shrank a bit as it drew off, but still appeared larger than the moon ever had.
A wild grin spread on Dalence’s face and she gripped Hantle’s shirt, shaking him as she laughed. She rolled to face her brother. “Your aim was perfect, Brust! Did you see how many times we hit it?”
“Yes,” Brust replied. “A lot of blood poured from the arrow wounds. Wish I’d seen what we did to its back.”
The crew that surrounded them cautiously took to their feet. Claps and cheers went up as they understood their frantic efforts had paid off.
Hantle rose and looked to the wolf. “The question,” he remarked, “is how much damage we caused.” Would it disappear into the cosmos? His relief gave way to anxious déjà vu. He recalled speaking with Rounfil after the canine escaped with wounds into the forests surrounding Founsel. Together they had pondered whether the creature was mortally injured. Only when the canine was dead before him could he consider the danger past. He turned to their decimated constructions. “Both the crossbow and trebuchet are in splinters; our ammunition is spent. If it returns, we have no recourse.” He swallowed hard. “Our hope, then, lies in it bleeding out while the wounds are fresh.”
A burning trail grew behind the wolf. The streak became bright and wide and long as he shot away toward the sun. Its angle changed and the canine’s maw spread wide as his path eclipsed the star. For half a minute, the corona revealed itself. Searing filaments and pale loops—heretofore invisible—grasped beyond the wolf’s jet-black form. The sky faded to twilight and cool air scraped Hantle’s face. The enormity blotting out the day imbued him with dread and trepidation. With a flare, the eclipse ended and the gloom reverted to noontide.
Brust pointed to the sky and called out, “Is that blood it leaves behind?”<
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Dalence nodded furiously. “Yes, that must be blood.”
Hantle squinted and saw red globules trail the creature. Hopeful expectancy crept into his mind. That lost blood was their deliverance. Farther back along the beast’s trail, he made out the vague, crimson outlines of additional beads.
The wolf carved a wide arc to the left, first away from and then back toward the sun, slowing its approach as it neared. Hantle raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun, enabling him to see the beast, whose face fluoresced brilliantly. Its movement stalled and Hantle thought its entire body to be molten now. Bared fangs shimmered and wavered in the intensity. Ripples rolled down its pelt and its visage lustered.
Minutes passed and the canine did not move. Was it apprehensive? As if cued by this thought, the wolf lurched forward but quickly pulled back, cringing and shaking its head. The creature receded and sent out a howl. The sound registered with Hantle as a tinny echo. With a kick of the legs, it rotated and presented its underbelly. The howl continued and its fur flared white beside the blistering orb. Briefly, the wolf-star outshone the other, but the incandescence lessened and Hantle watched the blaze burn each imperfection on the demon’s body. Disintegrated and blown away as embers were the obsidian pocks, the arrows, the blood, and the scars. Even the marred ear appeared reformed. A despondent breath left Hantle.
The howl faded and, with its vigor renewed, the creature swiveled on an axis at its midriff to face the orb. It reared then struck, though before it could complete the bite, its muzzle sprang open again and the wolf jerked its head about, tongue lolling. Hantle thought it would retch. Instead, it recovered and decidedly snapped. Its fangs scintillated as they clenched shut.
Black.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
HANTLE FROZE IN PLACE, blinded and afraid even the slightest movement would topple him over. A figmentary static writhed across his vision. He could hear sounds nearby, however: people moving, breathing, or shouting.