Fentris’s bloody dnu actually leaped toward the wounded badgerbear as the man forced it away from the rocks. The adult opened the dnu’s second belly as it charged. Thin legs wavered. Fentris felt his mount start to go down. He kicked frantically out of the saddle. Black claws cut leather where his leg had been, and he landed hard in the tangled deadfall, gasped in shock. Then he was ripping at the branches, crushing, snapping them like twigs as he tried to get away from the beasts. The badgerbear didn’t notice. It had swarmed on his dnu like a blanket and tore at its flesh and neck. Nori grabbed the Tamrani by the arm and hauled him out of the brush.
“Nori,” Payne yelled urgently. His dnu was stuck like a dog on a spit, a branch jammed through its cinch. One of the badgerbears had seen him and now changed direction abruptly. Nori—
Nori saw the beast turn toward her brother. She didn’t stop to think. She let go of Fentris, only vaguely registering the fact that he fell as if she’d thrown him, and ran back to the thick, fallen log. She vaulted on top of it and threw out her arms. “Ayuh-chuh-chuh,” she roared. “Ayuh-chuh-chuh.”
All three badgerbears whipped around. She screamed her challenge again, and the adults rose and thundered their challenge back, the young one’s voice a thin cry beneath them. They began to flow toward Nori. Payne spurred his dnu viciously. The branch snapped off, and he leapt the creature away. “Nori, run—” he yelled over his shoulder.
Go, Go! she screamed back. She didn’t know it was in her head. “Ayuh-chuh-chuh,” she roared again as the badgerbear rippled around the dnu.
Kettre turned and slapped her bow down on Leanna’s mount. The dnu spooked down the trail. Wakje leapt toward Payne as he passed. The older man landed on a boulder, launched himself, and grabbed the young man’s arm. Payne slung his uncle up behind him, and they both dug their heels in. The dnu raced away like fire.
Nori roared her challenge one more time, got a glimpse of Hunter off to the left and Payne disappearing into the trees. She jumped off the log and fled. Fentris was still standing, half bent where she’d left him, and she caught his arm in a vise. “Are you alright?” she demanded.
He staggered up. “Good enough. Go!”
She dragged him after her. Behind, the red-brown beasts paused as she left the kill to them. One turned and gave a last swipe at Fentris’s shuddering dnu. It opened up like a coin purse, and the badgerbear dug into pink guts. The cub rushed in, was slammed aside by a large paw. It swarmed toward the other beast and was thrown back by its father. It shrieked its small fury back. The adults kicked at it irritably, and the small beast grunted, caught another scent, and flowed away toward the deadfall.
Moons, moons, Nori cursed under her breath as she ran. What had she done? There were only four true predators in the forest—worlags, poolah, bihwadi, and badgerbears—and she knew them all, how to see them on the hunt, how to hear them approach, how to feel almost all of them. She’d never before been so stupid as to walk into a trap. Oh, aye, Rishte had warned her, but she’d been so sure she could interpret the grey, so sure she could keep them ahead of the Harumen and bring them all to safety. She’d always wondered how other scouts got caught like this. Now she knew. She’d been so worried about the Harumen, and so enamored with the bond, that she’d forgotten to use her own eyes. Now they were split up, on foot, and on the run. With the Haruman tracker so close behind, she’d just given them up like gold to a hungry beggar.
She used her bow like a machete, smashing through the brambles. Twiggy branches snapped, crushed leaves released their odors. Stalks of blackthorn and greendup clawed at their ankles. There was a game trail somewhere ahead, and Nori thrust almost blindly toward the grey. Her ears were full of the sounds of eating. Fentris faltered, and she snarled, “Hurry.”
“Keep going,” he snapped back. “I’m alright.”
Wolfwalker, the hunter—
I know, she hurled at the wolf. Gods, she was an idiot. Hunters: not Harumen, but badgerbears. She risked a glance over her shoulder, tripped on a root and barely caught her balance. This time, she didn’t mistake the grey. There was something red-brown behind them. She yanked free of a bramble and started to run.
Fentris stumbled behind her. “What is it?” he asked urgently.
“There’s one in the brush behind us.”
“Badgerbear?”
“Don’t stop.” She jumped a tiny seep and threw up her bow and an arm to ward off the brush that grew thickly on the other side. A cloud of gnats released. She batted at them and plunged through the waist-high bushes. Payne and the others were away down the trail; Hunter was somewhere nearby. If she and Fentris could get to a ridge, they could meet up with Hunter and combine their weapons. Then they could travel together to get back to Payne, make sure he was alright.
Fentris cursed under his breath, jumped the seep, and went to his knee on the other side as he slipped on her muddy prints. He got awkwardly to his feet only to find Nori grabbing his arm again and yanking him up.
“Hurry,” she snarled. “It’s closing.”
They ducked under brush and then shoved through twiggy branches that stuck out from the trees like atrophied limbs. They left white scars where they stripped off tender bark. Birds burst up and away, and something large fled through the undergrowth. Small stands of ferns hid the woodrast that Rishte smelled. She thought she saw a clear line through the trees, one that might be a wider trail, and she sped up, but Rishte howled in her head. The danger sense was sharp as a talon. I know, she sent back. We need rocks, a cliff, something to climb.
He seemed to understand. He shifted and pulled farther right.
She changed direction abruptly.
Fentris was caught off-guard. “What is it?” he managed.
“Watch out. Stay clear of the redstick. We’ve got a chance now.” She called mentally, Find Hunterhunterhunter. Bring him to me at the cliff. She glanced back. Fentris stumbled again. “Be careful,” she snarled.
He caught her sleeve. “Black Wolf, I’ve been bleeding.”
She whirled. Her gaze dropped to his leg. Blood was staining his fingers, and it marked the grass by his leg.
“Damn you,” she breathed. “You said you were okay.”
He stiffened. “I can still run.”
On top of her ignorance and arrogance, Tamrani pride would kill them all. “Dammit, it’s not about running.” Her violet eyes flashed with fury. “It’s about leaving a fresh blood trail.” Her gaze jerked past him to the crushed growth. She could barely see the stains, but to a badgerbear they would be glowing. She could have bound the wound. She could have carried him to break the blood trail. “Gods.” She looked around desperately. She had three knives and a bow, but no hunting bolts. Fentris had his sword, but no bow or bolts. Against Harumen who might want them alive, it was a pitiful arsenal. Against badgerbears, with their ferocious speed and claws as long as her finger, it was almost suicide.
They’d been so lucky. They’d been breaking trail, really, for the Harumen ever since they took to the forest. They’d had to move carefully to avoid spring poolah and worlags. They’d had to stop for supplies, find crossings for runoff streams, backtrack that washed-out trail on the ridge. Even with all that, they’d managed to stay ahead. One mistake—her mistake—and they were scattered like bloody chaff. The Harumen could now run them down like well-culled, three-legged eerin. Her stomach clenched. Even if it was Nori or Hunter the Harumen wanted, they wouldn’t leave Payne alive.
Rishte growled. With the other wolves strengthening his voice, she could almost see the trail through his eyes. I know, she hurled back. Hunter was somewhere behind to the right. He’d seen her go off her dnu; he knew she had no arrows, but there was no way he would get there in time.
“This way,” she snapped at Fentris. “Hurry.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Black Wolf—”
“Hurry up!” She started to run. “We’ve got to get to a clear spot.”
Twigs snapped audibly behind them, and her
heart stuttered.
Wolfwalker, Rishte howled.
We’re coming, she cried to the wolf. She burst out into a tiny clearing where the brush was mostly grass and only thigh-deep. “Here,” she said quickly. She ran to the other edge of the clearing, turned, and scanned it at a glance. It was six or eight meters across, bordered by scarred trunks whose lower branches had been broken off long ago. Claw marks had left dark streaks in the bark where the sap had become a breeding ground for black fungi. The grass was all wispy and new. The only dried stalks she could see lay on the ground, scattered like a loose bed beneath the light growth. “Oh, moons,” she breathed. It was a bedding place for badgerbears. They would know it from the year before.
Rishte slunk beside her and stared at Fentris, then at the brush. Blood, fresh blood. The hunter breathes. Too close, too close, wolfwalker.
“We have to face it here,” she returned.
“Black Wolf?” Fentris clutched his leg and tried to catch his breath.
She snarled, shook her head, and re-formed the words at him. “Get ready.”
“For what?” He broke off and stared past her, and she knew Rishte was there.
“To kill it.” She ran back to him, stooped and squeezed his leg at the wound site.
He almost hit her. “Shit on a stickbeast—”
“Shut up,” she snarled, shoving his hands away. She smeared the blood around on the grass, then along a sloppy path toward the other side of the clearing. “How good are you with that sword?”
“Good enough,” he snapped. He straightened up.
“This isn’t pride, Tamrani,” she shot back. “This is life and death, and we might have one minute to decide.” And it was her own damn fault. Her hands itched to snatch the blade. She forced herself to ask, “Do I get the sword or do you?”
“No offense, Wolfwalker, but I’m much better than you.”
Rishte snarled. Nori agreed with the wolf. “How much better?” she demanded.
Brush cracked back on the trail, and Fentris spoke quickly. “In swordsmanship, I’m fifth rank, Dangu style, third rank Abis, third rank Cansi. I’ve trained six years with Master Edon, three years with—”
She cut him off and pointed at his leg. “And with that?”
He said flatly, “I’m still very, very good.”
“I pray, by the moons, that you’re right. Have you killed?”
“Men, yes. Badgerbears, no.”
“Then aim for its heart or its spine.” She jammed her bow up in the branches and drew her long knife. “The best we can hope is to bleed it out before it tears us apart, or paralyze it before it can call its parents. Move over there and stay behind me.” She pointed with the long blade and kept her eyes on the brush. “And try not to bleed when you move. It will follow the blood trail, not you.” She unsnapped the guard for her hunting knife and drew the sharp, curved blade as he stepped past her carefully. “Stand still in place. Don’t move, don’t breathe. Watch and wait. When I turn it away from you, strike.”
“Black Wolf—”
“Be quiet. For gods’ sake, be quiet.” She stared at the edge of the wavering grass. Her voice was a whisper. “It’s here.”
XXXV
Make your bargain with the moons,
Run the silver trail;
Make your bargain with the wolves,
Run the black, blood trail.
—Randonnen saying
The badgerbear was a mottled shifting of red and brown. A subtle movement that nudged aside the broken ferns and flowed, rather than stalked up the slope. It reached the edge of the clearing, licked the bloody grass, and raised its flattened head like a snake. The smooth drums that covered its ear bones were pulsing with eagerness. The age marks on its head were small and piggish, barely red enough to see, but they seemed to widen as the beast’s fur flared and shifted. The maw was beginning to open, and the camouflaged eyes above its teeth flicked toward the wolfwalker.
It could hear her breathing.
She sucked air in slowly and fingered her knife.
It raised up another handspan. She could see the fur shift and ripple along its length. The maw was half ringed with teeth, thinner than a poolah’s mouth, but with longer fangs. The creature’s paws spread, and the claws slid out. They were black and smooth, unnicked by time and hunting. The detail stuck in her mind.
Danger, danger, run. The wolf’s voice was a blinding snarl.
She found her voice and began the hum. The badgerbear froze. Its eardrums pulsed as it located her, and it flowed forward another meter.
Rishte’s bristle stiffened like wood. He edged back. Nori sent him a shaft of approval, and he clawed at the inside of her mind. Danger, death. Run, wolfwalker. Quickly.
She shook her head, not realizing that the motion was physical until the badgerbear keyed in to it. She saw the blur of the beast, and screamed as she threw up her arms. “Aiyu-chuh-chuh.”
The beast froze midair and landed short, four meters before her. Then it lunged up on its hind legs. The teeth in its maw seemed to grow in length as its lips retracted slowly.
Nori’s vision blurred. She screamed again, “Aiyu-chuh-chuh—”
The youngling seemed to compress. Then it leapt like flight.
She jumped left, ducked her head, and struck instinctively with both blades. Rishte felt her sudden fear. He leapt, fangs bared. He closed on fur and yanked his head, ripping deep into badgerbear muscle. The badgerbear roared. Fentris lunged. Nori felt the claws start to rip at her shoulders. She stabbed in with both hands. The left blade sank deep. She slashed back with the other and jerked the deep blade down. The beast turned on her, and she stumbled back. Its maw was open and claws slashed as she cut, slashed, stabbed. Claws, claws caught on the laces of her jerkin and yanked her up and sideways as she started to fall. Black claws tore through leather. She felt the bite of the bear, and then it engulfed her. Teeth pressed into her stomach. She hit the ground, her face smothered in fur. It trapped her arm, her legs. She stabbed blindly with the hunting knife, wild beneath its weight. She bit at the fur. It was grey, a grey beast with white-black eyes. Black ears, black age marks, black blood—
There were insects, mosquitoes, things in her ears. She kicked out as her legs were freed. Her mind was snarling and snapping, and she howled as she got a breath. Then she heaved the beast off and lunged after it like a wolf, stabbing into its body. Right, left, off-rhythm, stabbing, cutting deep, ripping down and hot blood and she slashed through gums and teeth caught on her wrist and skin tore and blood, hot blood.
“Noriana—” Fentris’s fingers dug into her shoulders like spikes. Slender as he was, he yanked her up by her shoulder and belt and threw her bodily away from the carcass. Her long knife caught the edge of his sleeve and cut it, and he cursed as she hit the ground and rolled back to her feet so smoothly he might have helped her do it.
He stepped in front of her, between her and the beast. “Stop, stop it,” he yelled. “It’s dead.”
She didn’t register the words. Instead, she went past him as if he wasn’t even there. One moment, she was in front of him, her nose wrinkled and her lips curled back until her teeth were fully bared. Then he felt the light touch of her hand and hip as she lunged, and she simply shifted past him. Her violet-grey eyes weren’t quite human, and the sound that came from her lips as she dropped to the carcass was the snarling of a wolf. She stabbed the badgerbear again, again, her blades going in unopposed. She was breathing far too quickly.
Fentris whirled, but when he stepped toward her, she turned her head and snarled at him so viciously that he stumbled to a stop. Beside her, Rishte yanked at the flesh, opening part of the gut. The wolf barely glanced at him before turning back to the carcass. Nori sucked in a breath, gagged, turned her head, and spit out fur. Her fist clenched on the handle of the long knife.
Fentris swallowed and touched his sleeve where she’d cut him. The thin line was barely bleeding, but he knew it could have been worse. “Black Wolf?” He
cleared his throat. “Noriana, it’s over. It’s dead.”
But Rishte sang in her head. Fresh, dead. Hot meat, fresh. The hunt, the hunt! He tore at the gut where Nori’s knife had pierced flesh and released the scent of the internal organs. It was a hot, blood-and-bile-laced sensation, and Nori sucked air and spit again. She shivered. There were other wolves nearby. They were coming, drawn by her unconscious projection into the packsong. The weight of them behind Rishte filled her mind with a sea of grey snarls that crawled on the inside of her skull. She could hear them, could almost see them. Her vision was all wrong.
She blinked, shook her head, and realized her hands were so clenched on her knives that her knuckles had gone white. “Gods,” she managed.
“MaDione?” the Tamrani said more sharply.
She shook her head again, trying to make sense of his words. She could still feel the tips of the claws that had pierced her back, but the badgerbear was young, and it had made only small punctures, blunted by her jerkin. The blood was sticky across her back, but there wasn’t much of it, for all that the taste of it was in her mouth. She got to her feet shakily. It was Rishte’s tongue she tasted, and she tried to shut him out. He paused and snarled at her, and she had to close her eyes. Back off, back off, she growled back. I can’t have you in me now.
Hunger, hungry, he growled.
Deliberately, she formed the words, but they came out more like snarls. Eat, then. Fill your belly. There’s time for that, at least.
He turned back to the dead beast eagerly. When he dragged a strand of something ugly out of one of the punctures, Nori turned away. She was shaking, and her vision wasn’t yet right. She needed to . . . needed to tear at the badgerbear, taste it again.
Fentris moved around to the other side of the beast. His sword had been wrenched out of his hand when he’d cut deeply into the spine, and the bones had locked around the steel. He muttered a curse and worked it free, then wiped it carefully on the grass. He gave Nori a wary look as he slid it back in its scabbard. “Black Wolf,” he started. Then, harder, “Black Wolf, shouldn’t we go?”
Wolf in Night Page 46