The Bloodwolf War

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The Bloodwolf War Page 12

by Paula Boer


  Grunting, Fleet heaved himself over a tangle of dead tree trunks and twisted branches. “Will we never leave those mountains behind? It feels like we’re not making any progress.”

  Yuma struggled to stay upright by hanging on to Fleet’s tail. “The way south will be longer, but the going may be easier.”

  Fleet clambered up a rise. Sparsely treed hills rolled to the horizon, the steeper yet more pleasant terrain alongside Silverstream a distant memory. “Let’s go south for a while then. Hopefully we’ll be able to go faster to make up for the extra distance.”

  Since mating with Gem, his senses picked up subtleties he’d never noticed before, like the way light reflected off wet leaves, the difference in pitch of bird calls, and the vast array of flower scents. Grasses tasted sweeter, or, here in the far north, bitter and rough. Could it be true he had unicorn blood? He wasn’t sure he wanted to be a warmblood. He wanted to lead a normal life. Being able to use mind communication didn’t seem such a great thing considering the disadvantages, like having to live alone. Was that the reason Sapphire had fled to Dark Woods? So many questions remained unanswered.

  He had done as asked—warned Streak and found a unicorn. Then as soon as Moonglow announced her prophecy, Gem refused to have anything more to do with him. Why couldn’t the unicorns go after these feathers? Why him, and not one of Streak’s experienced warriors? When he’d promised to find the horse with twisted horns, he hadn’t expected to have to do so much. He huffed as the burden of another task dragged his spirits down, taking him further away from settling with a herd.

  Tatuk appeared in a flash of colour and alighted on Fleet’s crest. “Cheer up. There’s good pasture close by. Follow me.” He darted away.

  Fleet set off at a trot.

  “Hey! I can’t run like you.” Yuma scrabbled up from where he had fallen in the squelching mud.

  Fleet returned and suggested he mount. “Don’t lose sight of Tatuk. He might disappear again.”

  “He only disappears when you’re miserable.”

  Trying to lift his mood, Fleet hurried after the dragon. Even before he warmed up from the faster pace, they reached a meadow. He dropped his head and tore at the grass. Tired and sore, his anger festered like his nightmares that had grown worse since leaving Shimmering Lake, the bloodwolf poison seeping through his veins.

  For days, they followed the same routine. Yuma rose at first light for a cold breakfast and rode all day before making camp at sunset. Occasionally, he gave Fleet a break by running alongside or going hunting.

  They saw less and less of Tatuk.

  Heavy clouds obscured the peaks over the northern horizon and rain lashed down, churning the earth to a quagmire. They hadn’t seen the sun or stars for days, but had turned back east once into better territory, the gentle slopes lightly wooded with wide open tracks.

  Fleet stumbled.

  Yuma grabbed his mane, worried how tired the horse seemed.

  Regaining his balance, Fleet halted and peered around. “Is something on my hindquarters?”

  Yuma ran his hands over Fleet’s rump, making him flinch. “The wounds have re-opened. I thought Gem healed them. There wasn’t even the slightest scar when we left Shimmering—”

  “Wolves!” Fleet threw up his head, his nostrils flared.

  Yuma unslung his bow and reached for an arrow, his hunter’s senses alert. “I can’t see anything.”

  Fleet scanned around, his ears twitching to catch the slightest sound. In a rare clearing with no trees close by, the grass rose no higher than Fleet’s knees, offering nowhere for wolves to hide.

  A dark shape rose from the ground, shaggy fur streaked red. Crimson eyes glowed in a head heavy with fangs.

  Yuma pulled his bowstring taut.

  Fleet leapt into flight.

  The arrow flew without aim, falling wide of the bloodwolf.

  Spray flew from Fleet’s nostrils with every stride. Foam lathered his neck. He soared across a creek, thrusting into a gallop as he touched the far bank.

  Yuma clung on, the fingers of one hand tangled in Fleet’s mane, his bow useless in the other. They had never galloped so fast. Fleet’s head lunged with every stride, his hooves throwing up turf. The wind whistled in Yuma’s ears and sucked the air from his lungs as he chanced a peek over his shoulder. “Slow down. It’s gone.”

  Fleet didn’t react.

  Leaning back, Yuma braced and thrust his feet forward. “Whoa! Hold up!”

  Still Fleet galloped on, every muscle straining.

  Yuma slipped on the horse’s sodden back, sweat soaking through his leggings. He leant forward and ran one hand down Fleet’s neck to rub his ears and get his attention. “It’s gone!”

  Fleet slowed to a canter. His ears flicked in every direction. He stumbled to a trot.

  Yuma reassured him they were safe with calm words and a stroke of his hand.

  Fleet halted, his head hanging and ribs heaving. Gobs of lather dripped from his chest and shoulders.

  Yuma slid off and tore up handfuls of rough grass. Rubbing Fleet down, he murmured nonsense in an attempt to soothe away the horse’s fears.

  Still trembling, Fleet gasped. “That bloodwolf was much bigger than the one that attacked Sapphire. No wonder Streak is worried. Are you sure we’ve left it behind?”

  “I doubt it could keep up that pace for long. That was an impressive run. You must be as parched as I am. Let’s find a drink.”

  By the time they found a deep creek, sweat crusted on Fleet’s coat like filthy scabs. The wounds on his rump seeped pus and blood, the surrounding flesh hot to Yuma’s touch. He scratched grime off with his fingernails. “I’ll give you a wash.”

  He emptied his bladderflask over Fleet’s neck and shoulders and rubbed away the muck. Why had Tatuk left them? He would have been able to see the bloodwolf from the air and warn them. Yuma fingered the dangling diamond scale before tucking it back under his jerkin. It was cold. His worry increased; the scale radiated warmth when the dragon was near.

  After drinking from cupped hands, Yuma thrust his water bag below the surface to refill. A jerk almost tore it from his hands. Tugging hard, he fought to maintain his grip as something wrestled the skin beneath the water, whipping his arms back and forth. Digging in his heels, he straightened his legs and pulled.

  A spray of water and slime erupted. An eel the length of his outstretched arms soared over his head, landing near Fleet.

  The eel would make a good dinner. Yuma had often eaten them, though he had never seen one as massive as this. Smoked, the flesh would last for moons, a boon he couldn’t ignore with meat so hard to find. As he crept towards it, the dark grey body raised like a snake. Rows of needles gnashed below red eyes. Crimson streaks ran along its writhing length. Slime oozed from its skin, scorching the ground wherever it touched, sending up wisps of acrid smoke, the stench overpowering.

  Fleet stamped his forelegs in an attempt to pummel the squirming beast. The eel gnashed at his legs and escaped, wriggling across the grass and flopping into the creek. Water splashed over Fleet’s legs. He shied as if stung. “What was that? It stank like the bloodwolf.”

  Yuma held up the wrecked bladderflask with shaking arms. “No eel I’ve ever seen or heard of before had teeth like that.” He tossed it under a tree. “I’m in trouble now. I can’t go far without water, and I’m not drinking from that creek.”

  He rested against a boulder and grasped his right hand. The flesh was blistered as if singed by embers. He retrieved the discarded water bag and squeezed a few drops out to wash his wounds. Where the residual slime ran to the ground, the grass shrivelled and burnt like the smoking path to the stream left by the eel, anything touched by the slime smouldering and hissing.

  “If that scorching eel is another sign of what Shadow has unleashed, I need to rest and eat. Pity I don’t have any meat. There’s bee
n none for days.” He unwrapped the remains of his last meal.

  In a brilliant blaze, Tatuk alighted on the stone near Yuma’s shoulder.

  Fleet whickered a greeting.

  The dragon’s scales pulsed like multi-coloured fireflies.

  “Tatuk! I thought you’d abandoned us.” The appearance of the dragon and the warming diamond against his chest lifted Yuma spirits.

  The dragon fluttered in the air until he swooped down and alight­ed on a large stone. “I was reporting to Gem. I can make meat for you. You only had to ask.” His whole body sparkled and coloured the magenta of his legs. He breathed over the rock, steam wafting around his greying body. The mineral transformed to a hunk of red flesh.

  Fleet stepped back, rolling his eyes.

  Yuma laughed, more from relief than humour. “Thanks, Tatuk. That looks delicious. Now all I need to do is cook it.”

  The dragon’s scales returned to their full spectrum. He tilted his long snout to one side. “You need a red-legged dragon for that. I can’t make fire.”

  “Don’t worry, I can.” Yuma wandered over to a lone pine tree and gathered cones and kindling.

  Fleet followed. “What are we going to do? I don’t feel safe here. I don’t even know where we are.”

  Yuma struck his flint and tended the tiny spark with beards of lichen and dry leaves. A thin wisp of smoke rose from the kindling. “I haven’t seen any animals for days, other than Shadow’s beasts, let alone one big enough to make a bladderflask. I hadn’t expected the route to Snowhaven to be so sparsely populated.”

  Tatuk’s scales pulsed like oil rippling on water. “You’re a long way off track if you’re heading towards Snowhaven.”

  Tiny flames flickered around the kindling. Yuma added larger sticks to the fire. “We detoured to find easier going. We’ll be back on track soon.”

  The dragon fluttered up onto the boulder and perched next to Yuma’s shoulder. “I don’t think so. You’re still heading south.”

  “Are we? How can that be?” Yuma prodded the fire into a blaze.

  Tatuk flew in circles above the heat. “The trees have been fooling you. They do that to stop creatures living among them. They twist their trunks so you can’t be guided by moss on their bark. They shuffle their roots to open and close paths.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us before?” Yuma couldn’t believe they had gone astray.

  Tatuk paled. “I assumed you were heading to Flowering Valley before seeking the feathers.”

  Suddenly weary, Yuma sagged at the wasted travel. But maybe it was for the best. “That’s a good idea. I can get a new bladderflask at Bloomsvale, and Fleet can share our news with Streak.”

  The hubbub of many voices grew stronger as Yuma approached Bloomsvale’s common shelter. People thronged around the central fire, chatting in groups or preparing food. Most were strangers to him. After a winter of having no contact with other people, Yuma hesitated to enter the throng. As much as he had looked forward to company, he couldn’t face such a large crowd. He strode across to Chaytan’s hut. The familiar figure sat outside his home working leather.

  Yuma greeted him. “Did you save those marrow bones for me?”

  “Yuma!” The stocky man stood and spluttered through the long beard he’d grown during the cold moons. “Those stock bones made it into the pot long ago. Where’ve you been? We’ve been worried about you.”

  Yuma smacked his friend on the shoulder and squatted next to him. “Have you any ale? I’ve a lot to tell.”

  Chaytan called to Aponi in the hut. His lifemate appeared cradling a jug in one elbow and two cups in the other. She rushed across and dropped both armfuls in Chaytan’s lap before hugging Yuma. “I thought Chaytan must be drinking with Gomda again. The old chief likes to escape the visitors sometimes. I’ll get another cup and join you. You owe us an explanation for disappearing like that.”

  “I was going to share my story with the whole clan, but the meeting place is full of strangers.” Yuma outlined riding the black stallion far to the north beyond the lake where he fished each autumn, their encounters with bloodwolves, and the caves of green stone. “What’s been happening here?”

  Aponi excused herself. “I’ll make us some food, little as there is.”

  Chaytan’s look of wonder at Yuma’s travels changed to a frown. “It’s been hard on everyone. Remember I told you some of the folk from Boasville often winter here? Well, they all came. The rivers and streams are full of vicious eels preventing them getting water. Several children died and many people suffered burns.”

  “I encountered one myself. It had nasty teeth and a terrible stench, as big as my leg at least. Its slime scorched anything it touched.” Yuma held out his burnt hand.

  “Where did you see it? Was it close to here?”

  “No, in the woods to the north. The horses call the place Lost Lands.” Yuma faltered as he saw Chaytan’s eyebrows rise.

  “The horses? How do you know what they call anything? Don’t tell me you can talk to that stallion of yours.”

  Having said as much, Yuma pretended it was the magic stone he wore. After all, he had originally thought it was the scale that let him understand Fleet. He didn’t think it wise to explain about the horse’s ancestry or the existence of dragons. Not yet, anyway. Chaytan would think he’d gone mad. “I don’t know how it works. I found it far from here. Since then, Fleet and I have been able to communicate.”

  Despite his surprised look, Chaytan didn’t question Yuma’s word. “Anyway, the Boasville clan moved here. The weather has been too bad to build more accommodation, so they’re sharing the meeting place. Actually, it suits me, as it means I can spend my evenings here rather than listening to the gripes of everyone else.”

  “Has it been a severe winter?”

  Chaytan stroked the ends of his beard. “The snow has been thicker than we’ve ever seen. The additional people have diminished our fuel so there’s barely enough to cook with. Not that there’s much to cook. The smaller animals have disappeared, and the last hog hunt only produced a couple of runts.”

  Yuma grimaced at his friend’s suffering while he had been enjoying himself at Shimmering Lake. “Any news from Waterfalls or other clans?”

  “A few of us are heading to Marshward now the weather is warm­ing up. I’m not looking forward to leaving Aponi, with her pregnant again.” At a call for them to come and eat, Chaytan led the way through a hide hanging over the doorway.

  Yuma shivered even though he was warm; the evil the horses and unicorns feared was affecting the clans as well. As he entered the dim interior of Chaytan’s home, an urgency to reach Snowhaven and then return to Waterfalls gripped him.

  After greeting Chaytan’s two boys and sharing a meal of vegetable broth, tiredness and worry overwhelmed Yuma. “I’ll find a corner in the main shelter for tonight. Your place isn’t big enough for me too.”

  Chaytan slapped Yuma’s back and said goodnight. “Don’t go disap­pearing again. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

  Yuma found a niche in the communal hut to unroll his bedding before joining the crowd around the fire, greeting a few people he knew. Unlike the usual stories, the songs that night rang of strife and hardship. More than once he heard of unnatural wolves with crimson eyes and blood-streaked coats. He gave a quick account of his own adventures. Even though he suspected no-one believed he could talk with a horse, most enjoyed the unusual tale.

  Jolon Fist and his brood slumped in their usual corner. The man stuck his leg out as Yuma passed to settle for the night. “How long are you here for?”

  Yuma didn’t bother to look at Jolon as he stepped over the attempt to block him. “Only tonight.”

  The miserable man grunted in response without withdrawing his leg.

  Yuma took a long time to get to sleep. The whispers of families around him brought back memories of h
is childhood and his mother’s routine at bedtime. She always talked to Winona and him about their day, weaving in lessons of how to live in harmony with the world around them. Although they had been good days, he couldn’t see himself settling to such a life, especially now he’d seen wonders beyond even the most fantastic tales of the wandering bards. Perhaps that was how he should spend his life, playing his pipe and recounting his adventures rather than seeking a lifemate.

  Someone else could be the next Waterfalls chief.

  Rising early, Yuma found Chaytan swilling the sleep from his eyes at the creek. “How soon are you heading east?”

  Chaytan ran his fingers through his long hair. “Are you thinking of coming with us? We could do with another archer.”

  “Sorry, I’m heading north to the snow-capped mountains.”

  “What on earth for? You’ll have to pass through Boasville.” Chaytan held up a hand to prevent interruption. “Don’t tell me, the horses told you to go. It’s alright, you keep your secrets. I’ve known you long enough to know you’re not telling me everything. I only hope we’re both still alive to meet at the next gathering.”

  Before Yuma could respond, Jolon’s elder daughter, Laila, ran up. “I saw your hand last night.” She held out a small pouch and showed him wax balls the size of his thumbnail. “Bumblebee nectar. I doubt you’ll find much this year. Rub a little on your burns each morning and night.”

  Surprised at the both the gift and the giver, Yuma thanked her. “I thought it would’ve all been traded by now.”

  The girl lowered her eyes and blushed. “These are from my personal store. I wanted to become a healer, but Nina, our medicine woman, won’t take me as an apprentice. Ayiana Honey, one of the elders at Oakvale, also refused to train me.”

  “Why ever not? It’s a great vocation.” A twang of homesickness stuck in Yuma’s throat as he thought again of his mother and sister.

 

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