Fear the Wolf

by S. J. Sparrows

  I was tempted. Not only did my starved body crave the food, but it also delighted in a twisted thrill at the thought of eating wolflings. What a mighty insult to the Wolf—devouring her creatures! It would be another snippet of vengeance on my so-far doomed quest: possibly the only other revenge I would get.

  But it felt wrong. I shook my head and tried to ignore my flooded mouth and groaning gut.

  Illus narrowed her eyes. “It is your kill. A better honor to eat the meat of the fallen than to waste it.”

  The second head-shake was even harder to give than the first. But I had no wish to honor the wolflings, nor to dwell on the fact that I had killed them to save—

  The bushcat! I had almost forgotten about it entirely. I glanced about and spotted Nosy curled up inside the hollowed log. The bushcat was sleeping, its paws hanging over the edge. Its round fuzzball of a body gently puffed up and down with each purring breath. I smiled.

  As I turned to Aldan, my smile plummeted. He looked all too happy eating the wolfling meat. About to snap at him, I tensed my jaw to hold my tongue. He didn’t know any better. It would only anger and upset him if I pointed out that he was presuming too much. Anger him …

  Last evening came rushing back to me. I saw Aldan reaching for my neck with murder in his stare, and then Illus’s white hands lifting him off his feet. After that, everything was a blur. I had struggled to keep my eyes open. I vaguely remembered Illus putting Aldan down away from me. She’d hissed something at him, making her head-tails stand up and shiver around her. And she’d told me to rest, saying she would gather our things and keep us safe throughout the night.

  Right now, I watched Aldan with cautious curiosity. When he wasn’t chewing and gulping down slabs of wolfling meat, he looked terrified. His eyes flicked from Illus to me. I knew he didn’t fear me, so it must have been Illus’s presence that unnerved him.

  “Your big friend,” said Illus, noticing my gaze, “he will not hurt you anymore.”

  Aldan twitched at the sound of her voice. Again, his head darted back and forth between us.

  Illus’s round nostrils flared. “Will you, big man?”

  Aldan shook his head so vigorously his doughy cheeks wobbled.

  “Even when my eyes do not watch you,” Illus said to me, “he will not dare harm you. I will punish him if he does.”

  Frowning, Aldan looked into his lap. There was a tug at my heart. I took no pleasure in seeing him frightened of Illus’s strength and strange appearance, but it was a relief to think I could feel safe around him again.

  “He never meant to hurt me,” I said. Aldan lifted his eyes to meet mine. “He was only frightened … and lost. We both are.”

  Aldan smiled at me nervously, perhaps appreciatively.

  After a brief silence, Illus said, “Sometimes the people we care about most are the sources of our greatest fears. And suffering. Your big friend loves you. But he is afraid he cannot always have your approval. For him, the threat of rejection is too painful to bear. To silence his fear, he must destroy you.” Illus stopped and flashed her white, needle-like teeth at Aldan. “Now … now I have delivered him a greater fear.”

  Watching Aldan squirm, I snapped, “Stop it, Illus! That’s enough.”

  The Tenniac’s lips slammed into a firm line. She glared at me. I wondered if she would attack me like before, but she just snorted and put her attention to frying the meat.

  Baffled, I shook my head and tutted. Where had all her opinions about Aldan come from? How could she know anything about him? Did she even know his name? The way she had calmly sat across from him, speaking as though he weren’t present, pretending she had the power to read his innermost thoughts and understand them better than he did …

  It repulsed me.

  At least I had the restraint to keep my thoughts about Illus to myself. I asked the Tenniac, “How did you find us? Why are you helping me?”

  “Do you still hunt the Wolf?” she replied.

  “I … want to. But I don’t know that I can do it alone. First, we must reach the nearest village … for Aldan.”

  Without taking her eyes off the pan, Illus scowled. It was so brief I nearly missed it. “Many cycles I have searched for the Wolf’s lair. My findings suggest it is somewhere in the direction you were headed, somewhere beyond the village we will discover along the nearby path.”

  I frowned, wondering how Illus had known which way we were traveling.

  Illus looked at me with wide, intense eyes. “Travel with me, and you may take your big friend to this village. Once he is settled, you will rejoin me on our quest.”

  I turned to Aldan, worried about how he might react. Fear and suspicion fought each other on his face; he pulled an expression as if someone had stolen his rock collection and he’d only just noticed.

  To help calm him, I said, “As long as Aldan is safe there, happy, and they take him in as one of their own. Otherwise, we’ll need to find another village.”

  Illus gave a slow nod, but she failed to conceal a twitch. Like the brief scowl, it was almost imperceptible.

  “I know you have the white sickness,” I said. “If we journey with you, we might become infected.”

  “The choice is yours,” said Illus. “The white sickness … It takes a long time to infect another. Your big friend will reach the village before he is likely to catch it. As for you, it is my hope that together you and I will achieve our goal long before you are at risk of infection. Then, when the Wolf is dead, we will part ways.”

  I stopped and looked at the ground to consider Illus’s offer, but a loud squelch rumbled from my stomach. I fought to keep my eyes fixed away from the frying pan when I heard Illus stir the food again.

  “You are resolved not to eat this?” she asked.

  I made the mistake of looking at the steaming, sizzling meat. Now hunger took over my thoughts. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so wrong—perhaps it is more respectful to eat the fallen than to waste their flesh—what is so bad about eating meat, anyhow?—the wolflings are dead; they won’t feel it—I never killed them with the intention of eating them; it was only to defend the bushcat—maybe one bite to settle my stomach—just this once—

  “I won’t eat it!” I yelled, silencing my crowded mind.

  Undisturbed, Illus said nothing and continued cooking. I watched her silently until she finished and placed the hot frying pan onto some cool rocks away from the fire. Casually, she picked out the steaming hot meat with her fingers, tilted back her head, and dropped it onto her black tongue. After closing her mouth, she swallowed the meat without chewing. Her neck expanded as a lump traveled down it and disappeared into her chest.

  The way she ate reminded me of the greedy gulls that had pestered my old village in the summertime. They were fat, squawking birds that swooped down and stole bread and fresh food from people’s hands. They also caught mice and rats and other small prey. After snatching the food, they would fling it up above their heads, catch it in their great beaks, and then swallow it whole with a few forceful gulps, as though retching in reverse.

  I hoped Illus hadn’t noticed my stare.

  The meat gone, she reached into her satchel. In no haste, she pulled out a pouch and tossed it to me. I slipped my fingers inside to draw it open.

  It was filled with dried berries, nuts, and seeds. Instantly I tipped the food into my palm and then crammed it all into my mouth. I chewed and chomped and gulped it down, thinking of nothing but the food and the need to quell my aching hunger. I was sweating and shaking as if feverish.

  When the pouch was empty, I slouched back and accidentally burped.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  Illus ignored me and snapped her long fingers at Aldan. “Big man, share the water I gifted you.”

  Aldan immediately searched for his water pouch, which I was glad to see was bloated. He got up, scurried over, and thrust it into my hands before running back and sitting down. I drained half the pouch in two swigs, then remembered restraint.
r />   With a grateful smile, I wiped my wet lips and resealed the container. I decided against saying thank you, this time. Illus avoided eye contact with me. Was she offended, because I refused the meat?

  Fed and somewhat refreshed, I gave real thought to her offer of traveling with us. I cared not at all about the possibility of myself contracting the white sickness, so long as I succeeded in ridding this land of the Wolf. Besides, I hardly expected to survive my quest. The most I could hope for was to be quick and skilled enough to mortally wound the Wolf before she killed me.

  My mind was nearly made. I rubbed at my neck, which was still tender from the bruises Illus had left me with. “Illus,” I said firmly, willing her to look at me. “Can you control the rage?”

  She stared at me for a long time. “Not always.”

  After a moment of silence, I realized that was all she was going to say about the anger. Coming up against her outbursts—the underlying wrath of the white sickness—was a risk I would have to accept if I wanted her help.

  With another two-handed, one-armed gesture, Illus pointed at my forearm. “You can remove that bandage now.”

  I’d forgotten the bandage was still on, I’d become so accustomed to it. I tugged at one side, and the fabric began to unravel until my forearm was free. I poured a little water over the colorful ointment to wash it away. Dumbfounded, I gaped at my forearm; there was no scabbing, bleeding, or infection. A few light dots and pale lines were all that remained.

  I smiled at the sensation of cool air on the skin. Stroking the scars, I felt pride filling me up. These unsightly marks were gained while I had desperately tried to reach my mother ... to save her. I felt as if I had earned them. But in a similar sense, they were also a symbol of my failure to protect her. My body tingled as the bloated pride drained away. Perhaps the scars would haunt me until my last day, or perhaps I could look upon them fondly and think, At least I tried.

  Illus interrupted my thoughts. “Silence your worries, Senla Nora. With my help, you will become a skilled warrior. You will gain fewer scars such as those.”

  “Why do you want me to join you when you know I have little skill with a sword?”

  “You have something many warriors do not possess: a purpose. A woman with a purpose, lacking skill, can make it further than a woman with skill, lacking purpose. Skill, I have the power to teach you. Your purpose … That is for you to decide. So. Will you join me? Will you let me train you?”

  Her yellow eyes became large and intense. They bore into me unwaveringly.

  I inhaled through my nose until my ribs hurt. And on the exhale, I said, “Yes.”

  28

  Illus led us to a clean spring, where we washed ourselves and our clothes, and refilled our water pouches. I didn’t want to be seen undressed, so I asked Illus for something to wear while my tunic dried. It turned out Illus had caches throughout the forest, in which she stored things like weapons, tools, and clothing.

  I refused to wear the skin of a slaughtered animal, so Illus gave me a tunic made from the giant fronds of a laka plant. I was amazed. My people had used laka fronds to waterproof our roofs and to block chill air from sneaking through our walls. But, with time, the fronds rotted and had to be replaced.

  Illus explained now that if a laka frond was treated with certain oils and dried out correctly, it became a tough, flexible, long-lasting material with many applications. I huffed. I wished my mother and I had known it could be used for clothing.

  After walking a few hundred strides away from Illus and Aldan, I made an effort to wash in privacy. I couldn’t escape everything, though. A quiet splashing sound reached my ears. I covered my breasts and ducked my lower body into the water. When I turned, I couldn’t help but laugh at my fright.

  Nosy had followed me. The bushcat was licking at the water surface, leaning tentatively over a grassy edge, as if afraid of falling in.

  I relaxed back into washing. And as I enjoyed the sensation of cold water removing thick layers of grime from my skin, I thought about Nosy. The bushcat trusted me more than it trusted Illus or Aldan. In fact, it seemed frightened of Illus.

  Before we left the pass this morning, Nosy woke in the hollowed log and jumped at the sight of the Tenniac. To coax it out of the hollow, Illus dangled scraps of wolfling meat in front of the bushcat. And it worked. After eating, Nosy locked eyes with Illus, and their eyes were strangely similar. A few seconds passed before Nosy dipped its head, as though in submission. Since then, the bushcat had followed us, keeping a wary distance from the Tenniac.

  Watching the little animal now, I noticed it had a perpetually confused and alarmed expression. Its tongue was always out, but only slightly—a small pink semicircle protruding from the fuzzball. Done drinking, Nosy padded away from the spring and lay on the grass.

  I finished cleaning myself and got out. After drying off, I put on the laka tunic and returned to Illus and Aldan. I soaked and wrung my tunic until it was clean, and then hung it on a branch near the heat of a small fire Illus had started.

  While our garments dried, Illus showed us how to find food in the forest. Of course, I already recognized some plants, which my people had grown in our village, but we were a long way from home now, and there were many more plants that I didn’t recognize.

  With Illus’s help, we learned which fruits were safe to eat and which were poisonous, where to find seeds and nuts and how to pry their hard shells open, and which plants had succulent leaves that could be eaten whole. I tested each new food upon discovery, and it felt as though my taste buds had been reborn.

  Illus offered to teach me the ways of a hunter, concerned that I would wither away and die without consuming the flesh and life energy of other animals.

  I scoffed at her absurd view. “My people have always lived off of plants, and we’ve never wanted for energy. Most of us were lean and strong … before the Wolf killed everyone.”

  Illus scoffed right back. But she didn’t try to persuade me again. She said nothing else until we returned to the spring in the evening. I sensed no anger from her, but she seemed silently satisfied with herself for testing my resolve again.

  By now the small fire had gone out, and our tunics were dry. With daylight quickly fading, Illus started a new fire and decided we should settle down for the night. We had learned a lot today.

  We ate, and all the while I felt uneasy about something I couldn’t quite bring to mind. I watched Illus. And as I watched her, I imagined her gliding through the forest earlier today, moving in the smooth yet forceful way that she did. Moving … moving … walking.

  That was it.

  “Your limp is gone,” I said.

  Illus carried on eating as though she hadn’t heard me. A few gulps later, she said, “It healed.”

  I didn’t believe her. When we first met, she used her injured leg as the main reason she wanted my help to slay the Wolf. Now, her reason was that she sensed my purpose? I shook my head. Illus didn’t notice. Accusing her of lying would do no good, anyway. But knowing she had faked the injury made me more suspicious of her.

  Why did she want my help so badly? She could have approached a clan of nomads. They were fighters. Survivors. They would probably bask in the glory of slaying the Wolf, and they’d be much more useful than an unskilled fighter like me.

  I decided against airing my thoughts. Throughout the day, I had asked Illus dozens of questions—about her, about the Wolf, about the forest—but Illus answered only what she wanted to.

  “Tomorrow,” she said now, “we’ll begin your sword training. Would you like a new weapon?”

  My reply was instantaneous. “No.” I glanced at Reni’s sword, resisting the urge to pick it up and protect it.

  Illus reached inside her top and removed a necklace I hadn’t realized she was wearing. A long, flat rock hung from the loop of tatty string.

  She threw the necklace to me. “Use this whetstone to sharpen your blade.”

  As darkness thickened, I did as told. I hon
ed the blade until I fell asleep dreaming of becoming a skilled warrior. In my hopeful fantasy, the task of training seemed easy.

  29

  For days, we followed the path toward the nearest village, stopping every morning and afternoon for training. After just one session, I realized Reni had always gone easy on me in our secret lessons. She’d let me stop when I wanted to. She’d been patient when I struggled to grasp new techniques. She’d radiated warmth, caring, and an unspoken belief in my ability to learn at my own pace.

  Illus did none of these things.

  She pushed and pushed until I had nothing left to give—and then she pushed further. Making it harder was the fact that she had four hands and was larger than Reni. She hit harder. She hit faster. And she hit from every angle.

  For the first few days, I was so exhausted after each session that we barely made progress along the path. My legs trembled with each step. Even the thought of lifting a finger was tiring. But as more days passed, a new strength grew inside of me, an excitable energy rippling under my skin. I began to eagerly await each session.

  Even during the most grueling days, I felt the happiest I had since before the Wolf’s attack. At times, I could have sworn Reni was with me in spirit, watching me, guiding me. My whole life, I had yearned to fight like this. Like a real guardian.

  But there was another price to pay.

  With us stopping so often—to train, to rest, to eat, and to find more food and water—it would take much longer than two weeks to get to the village at the end of the path. And every day became hotter with the swelling summer. We drained our water pouches as fast as we filled them. But at least we had Illus. Without her, Aldan and I wouldn’t have survived two more days, let alone weeks.

  Throughout our journey, the Tenniac continued to hunt, skin, dice and slice her own food, which she shared with Aldan and Nosy.

  I stuck to my plants. I hated watching Illus kill the gentler animals of the wild. I could almost, almost understand her killing and eating predators like wolflings and other wild hounds, which would kill and eat her if she didn’t slay them first. But hunting animals that only fed on plants, that only attacked when threatened …