The Frost Walker's Wolf

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The Frost Walker's Wolf Page 4

by Maya Grace


  Before Ella could speak, Rowan had hoisted a large stone in front of the opening to block it. Then she whirled around. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Did it hurt you?”

  Ella shook her head. “No. I don’t know. I don’t think so.” Then her knees buckled and she plunked to the cold ground, shaking.

  “It’s okay,” said Jack, patting her shoulder the way Gran might. But Ella could feel him trembling too.

  Get it together, she ordered herself. Be brave for Jack.

  “I’m alright,” she told him. “That zombie didn’t stand a chance. Not with Rowan and her enchanted sword here to protect us.”

  She shot Rowan a grateful smile, but Rowan was pacing. She strode the length of the cave and back again.

  “Zombies are the slowest mobs,” she said. “You don’t have to fight them, Ella, but you have to at least outrun them.”

  Is she scolding me? thought Ella.

  “You can’t just stand there and let them destroy you. And I won’t always be there to save you!”

  Rowan’s words felt like a punch in the stomach. Ella could barely breathe, let alone respond.

  But Jack did. He puffed out his chest. “You don’t have to save me,” he said. “If those zombies show up again, I’ll blast them with a splash potion.” He shook a glass bottle in his hand.

  He probably will, thought Ella bitterly. Maybe Jack doesn’t need me to protect him. He’s brave, like Rowan. But me? At the first sign of danger, I freeze up like an icicle.

  The cave filled with silence, except for the drip-drip-drip of rainwater seeping through the cracks.

  Finally, Rowan sighed and slid down the cave wall until she was sitting beside Ella. “Let’s just wait out the storm,” she said. “And rest up. Because we still have a long way to go.”

  Ella dropped her head backward against the wall. Rest? She couldn’t, because resting meant worry—worry about Gran and worry about her wolf. But this time, as Ella closed her eyes, it wasn’t Gran’s face she saw. And it wasn’t her wolf, with his anguished eyes.

  No, when Ella closed her eyes now, all she could see was that moaning mob, staggering toward her, step by horrifying step.

  * * *

  “Help me move the rock,” said Rowan, shaking Ella awake.

  The rain had stopped, and pricks of sunlight shone through cracks in the wall. Finally, thought Ella.

  She pushed against the rock with all her weight, and felt it give beneath her.

  “Wait!” said Rowan. “Let me check for mobs.” She stuck her head outside—and suddenly started laughing.

  “What?” asked Ella. What could possibly be so funny?

  “Carrots!” said Rowan. “The zombie dropped carrots. Oh, and a potato. Just in time for lunch.”

  “I like carrots,” said Jack, yawning.

  When Rowan offered Ella a carrot, she shook her head. The thought of eating something that had dropped from that disgusting mob made her stomach turn over. And anyway, her wolf was back now. He wasn’t howling exactly. He was whining. Fretting. Pacing. Waiting. She felt his worry, sending waves of restlessness through her own body.

  “Can we get going?” she asked. “The storm has passed, and we’ve wasted enough time.”

  Rowan checked the sky again. “There are more dark clouds rolling in. We’re going to have to move quickly—and keep our eyes open for shelter along the way.”

  Jack shook his backpack, reminding the girls of the bottles inside. “Potion of swiftness?” he asked hopefully.

  “No,” said Rowan. “Not yet.”

  But Ella’s frustration spilled over. “What are we waiting for?” she asked. “You told us we have to move quickly—that another storm is coming. And my wolf is in danger. So what are we saving the potion for?”

  Rowan raised a single eyebrow, then released a long, slow breath. “Fine,” she said. “Have it your way. But don’t come crying to me when we’re being chased by a pack of zombie pigmen, and we’re all out of potion of swiftness.”

  Yes! For the first time in days, Ella felt hopeful. With Jack’s potions, maybe they would get to her wolf in time. Hang on, she told him. We’re coming.

  “Zombie pigmen?” Jack scrunched up his forehead. “They live in the Nether, not the Taiga.”

  “Very good,” said Ella. “Gran taught you well. But did you hear what Rowan said? Bust out that potion, Jack!”

  As he poured out the contents of his backpack, Ella winced, hoping none of the bottles would shatter on the cave floor. He sorted them by color—from red and orange to pink, purple, and blue. Then he grabbed the lavender-blue bottle and untwisted the cap.

  “Who wants to go first?” he asked.

  “Wait till we’re all packed up and ready to go,” said Rowan. “So the potion doesn’t wear off too quickly.”

  “It won’t!” said Jack, suddenly sounding very grown-up. “I added Redstone.”

  Rowan’s eyebrow shot up again, and she glanced at Ella. “Do we trust his brewing skills?” she asked. “If I drink this, will I grow another head? Or turn into a scuttlefish?”

  Jack laughed out loud. “No!”

  Ella cracked a smile, too. “Give it to me, Jack—I’ll go first.” She took a quick swig, expecting the potion to taste bitter or slimy. But it didn’t. It tasted like . . . sugar. “Yum. I forgot you made this with sugar from Gran’s sugar cane!” Her words tumbled out so quickly, she slapped her hand over her mouth.

  Jack grinned. “See? The potion’s working already.”

  Seconds later, Ella wasn’t only talking fast—she was walking fast. It was as if her legs were racing each other, the left against the right. She felt as if she were leaping up the mountain. Her canvas sack felt light as a feather, and as the trail grew steeper, her legs only grew stronger.

  Rowan was still in the lead, but just barely. Even the usually poky Jack flew up the trail, grinning from ear to ear.

  As they crested the top of a rocky hill, Ella heard the bubbling of water. A narrow mountain stream wound its way near the trail, close enough for Jack to leap across, back and forth.

  Ella would have scolded him for wasting time, except that he wasn’t wasting time—he flew across that stream fast as a bird and nimble as the sheep roaming the rocky hillside.

  She even took a second to dip her own toe into the stream. Instantly, the water beneath her boot turned to ice. She jumped back in surprise. “Oh, hey! Enchanted boots!”

  The Frost Walker worked like a charm, just like Jack’s potion. Quick as lightning, Ella walked across the stream, feeling ice form beneath each step. By the time she’d reached the other side, it had melted again, and the stream bubbled onward.

  When a gentle rain began to fall, Ella felt invincible—as if she could dodge the droplets. She darted around them, between them, and beneath them.

  “Isn’t it fun?” Jack called to Ella, his high-pitched voice sounding like a music disc that had been sped up or fast-forwarded.

  She laughed. “Yes! Very fun. Why didn’t we drink this potion sooner?”

  Rowan shot her a glare, but Ella ignored her. Even as the sky darkened, she felt joyful. I can outrun any storm, she told herself.

  But ahead on the damp trail, Rowan stopped suddenly and whirled around.

  Ella skidded to a stop, too. Her body trembled, eager to race on ahead. “What? What’s wrong?” She couldn’t hide the irritation in her voice. Why did Rowan keep slowing them down?

  Rowan crouched low and pointed down into the valley. She waved Ella to the rocky edge.

  Ella grabbed a thin tree trunk to steady herself and then leaned lower. But before she could see anything, something whizzed past her ear and pierced the tree.

  It quivered there in the wood, just beside her head.

  An arrow.

  CHAPTER 9

  “Skeletons!” shouted Rowan. She grabbed her bow and arrow in a flash.

  Ella’s mind raced. Get down. Get your bow. Protect Jack.

  “Get down, Jack!” she hollered.
“Hide!”

  Then she reached for her own bow, the one she’d practiced with just once before leaving Gran’s house. She placed an arrow in the bow the way Rowan had shown her, and pulled back the bowstring. Then she willed herself to look over the edge of the rock.

  The skeletons were climbing quickly. She had just enough time to count them—one, two, three—before another arrow flew overhead.

  Rowan shouted something Ella couldn’t hear over the rushing sound in her ears. Don’t panic! she told herself. Be brave!

  She released her arrow . . . and missed the skeleton by a mile. Her arrow disappeared into the cloudy sky.

  Try again. You can do this.

  Thwang! Thunk! Her next arrow flew straight into the earth.

  You’re wasting arrows! she scolded herself—until she remembered that she’d given her bow the Infinity enchantment. She would never run out of arrows. But what good is that if my arrows never hit their mark?

  The skeletons were close enough now to see their gaping eyes and mouths, and to hear their bones rattling. Ella’s arms shook as she released another arrow.

  Thwack!

  The skeleton grunted and buckled. As he hit the ground, he burst into flames.

  “I got him!” Ella shouted.

  “No, I got him,” said Rowan as she shifted her aim to the other skeletons. Thwang! Thwack!

  The second skeleton exploded into flames.

  Right, thought Ella, sinking to the ground. She’d given Rowan’s bow the Flame enchantment. So it was Rowan’s arrow that had taken out the skeleton, not her own.

  As Rowan reached for another arrow, Ella watched the third skeleton, waiting for him to meet his fiery death.

  Crack! Splash!

  Glass shattered, and the skeleton fell backward in a haze of maroon bubbles.

  “Got him!” shouted Jack, punching his fist.

  But as Ella watched with horror, the skeleton lunged forward again.

  Thwack! Thwack, thwack! He released a barrage of arrows.

  “Get down, Jack!” cried Ella, leaping backward to shield him. She landed on him hard and held on tight.

  “Get off!” he cried.

  But she wouldn’t. Not till she heard the grunt of the skeleton and the crackling of flames. Rowan got him, she thought with relief. It’s over.

  As Ella rolled off Jack, he swatted her with his hands. “Why’d you do that?” he cried. “I was going to throw another splash potion!”

  Ella grabbed his hands to stop him. “I was protecting you!” she cried. “You don’t have a helmet on, Jack.”

  “I don’t need one!” he cried. “I have my potions!” He grabbed his backpack as if to show her. But as he lifted it off the ground, something dripped out the bottom.

  Rainwater? wondered Ella.

  No—the liquid shimmered with color as it swirled into a bubbly pool on the rocks below.

  “Look what you did!” cried Jack.

  Ella knew in an instant. I broke his bottles, she realized. I was trying to protect him, and I destroyed his precious potions!

  “I’m sorry, Jack,” she said quickly. “There’s still some left, see?” She carefully emptied the damp backpack, showing him the bottles that remained. But shards of glass littered the ground around them.

  “Don’t touch anything,” warned Rowan. “Let the rain wash off the potions first.”

  I won’t touch anything, thought Ella bitterly. I’ve already done enough damage.

  Jack wouldn’t even look at her.

  And the rain just kept coming.

  * * *

  “I wish you two would stop moping already,” said Rowan. “We fought off the skeletons. You should be happy!”

  You and Jack fought off the skeletons, Ella wanted to say. I didn’t fight a single thing, except a few glass bottles.

  Jack looked like he would never be happy again, even though his backpack was probably a whole lot lighter now.

  “We even picked up some bones and arrows the skeletons had dropped,” said Rowan. “Get it? Bones and arrows?”

  She wiggled her eyebrows in Ella’s face. “You know, bones and arrows instead of bows and arrows?”

  “Not funny,” said Ella. Who could joke at a time like this? But she was glad for the skeleton bone. She reached into her cape pocket to make sure it was still there. I’ll feed that to my wolf. That is, if I ever find him, she thought miserably.

  Her feet felt cold and heavy, like ice blocks. She could see the snowcapped mountains ahead. They would reach the Taiga by tomorrow night, Rowan had said. But that meant another long day of walking, and more battles to fight.

  Jack dragged his feet, too.

  “Hurry up!” Rowan called over her shoulder.

  But Ella couldn’t hurry, no matter how hard she tried. The potion of swiftness had worn off and taken her energy—and her hope—along with it.

  After another hour of trudging along the trail, Rowan pointed to something in the distance. Animals grazed on a rocky hillside speckled with wild grass.

  Ella strained to see. “Are those sheep?” she asked.

  “No!” scoffed Rowan. “Horses.” She didn’t just say the word. She breathed it in, as if the word itself had magical powers.

  “Yeah, so?” said Ella. She didn’t mean to sound grumpy, but what was the big deal?

  Rowan cocked her head. “I think they’re wild horses.”

  For some reason Ella didn’t understand, Rowan had a thing for wild horses. They’d never actually seen a wild horse—only the thick, muscular horses farmers used to plow fields.

  And to hunt wolves, Ella remembered with a shiver.

  “Let’s go look!” said Rowan. She scampered up the trail, as if Jack had given her another swig of potion of swiftness.

  “Wait up!” cried Jack from down below.

  “Don’t bother, Jack,” grumbled Ella. “She spotted wild horses. There’s no stopping her now.”

  But as they neared the rocky hillside, Rowan hung her head. “They’re not wild,” she said. “There’s a fence. See?”

  Ella followed the fence with her eyes all the way to a farmhouse and a cluster of outbuildings. Remembering the soft hay bales they had slept on the very first night, she grabbed Rowan’s hand. “Can we stay in one of those barns tonight?” she asked.

  “Yes, please,” said Jack. “I’m tired.”

  Ella expected Rowan to say no. They hadn’t gotten very far today because of the storm—and the skeletons.

  But Rowan gazed again at the horses and actually said, “Yes.”

  Ella nearly dropped her canvas sack with surprise.

  “But let’s be careful,” Rowan warned. “We’ll have to hide from the farmers until dusk.”

  They waited just past the fence, ducking down in the grass and eating a few mushy apples for dinner.

  “I wish there was a fishing pond,” said Jack.

  Ella’s mouth watered, too, at the thought of charred fish. But she didn’t say so. She didn’t want to be a whiner, not after Rowan had let them stop early for the night.

  When dusk finally fell, Rowan led them along the fence toward the oldest-looking barn—the one farthest from the house.

  There were plenty of knotholes in the wood for them to peek through. All three cousins lined up, searching the shadows of the barn for any signs of life. Through her peephole, Ella saw nothing but a rusty hoe hanging on a hook.

  “Looks like a tool shed,” said Rowan. “Coast is clear.”

  She slid open the barn door, careful not to make a sound.

  As Ella stepped inside, she smelled must and dust—not the sweet smell of fresh hay. Drat. But as night fell, weariness set in. Her body felt so heavy, even after she stripped out of her armor and lay down on a dusty blanket.

  The last thing she heard was the whinny of a horse.

  She dreamed of Rowan, walking through the field and offering an apple to a chestnut-colored horse.

  But it wasn’t Rowan walking. It’s me, Ella realized. S
he could feel the apple in her palm.

  Then it wasn’t a horse at all. It was her wolf. He licked her hand and pressed his trembling body against her legs. Then he raised his muzzle toward the moon and let out a gut-wrenching howl.

  He’s so sad! she realized.

  She dropped down beside him and stroked his thick, wiry fur. Tell me what’s wrong, she said. Tell me what I can do.

  But he didn’t tell her. He showed her.

  The wolf led the way through the field, turning to make sure she followed. He led her toward the horses that were grazing. But they weren’t horses either—they were wolves. They were all lying down, sleeping soundly.

  As Ella bent to stroke one of the wolves, its body felt cold and rigid beneath her touch.

  And that’s when she knew.

  The wolves aren’t sleeping, she realized with horror. They’re dying.

  CHAPTER 10

  “I’m going!” Ella cried. “You can’t stop me.” She reached again for the latch on the barn door.

  “Not in the middle of the night!” said Rowan. “We’ve already been through this.” She flung her body against the door, blocking Ella’s path.

  Rage burned hot in Ella’s chest. She leaned forward until she was inches away from Rowan’s face. “The wolves are dying,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’m going.”

  The next few seconds passed like hours.

  Ella saw the shift in Rowan’s expression. She licked her lips. “Then we’re going too,” Rowan finally said. “Just wait for us. Please?”

  Ella blinked into the darkness. Was Rowan actually listening to her?

  Rowan quickly packed her sack and rustled Jack from sleep. “Keep your weapons drawn. This is going to be a long night,” she said to Ella. “I don’t know how we’re going to make it through.” She added the last part under her breath, as if talking to herself.

  Then, as if in response, a horse whinnied from the pasture.

  Rowan whirled around and cocked her head, listening.

  “It’s just a horse,” said Ella. Was Rowan going to be spooked by every little noise?

  Rowan shushed her. When the horse whinnied again, her eyes flashed with excitement.

  “What?” said Jack. “What did it say to you?”

 

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