Wolf Hunting

by Jane Lindskold

  The creatures remained, but as seen in brighter light their resemblance to wolves, jaguar, and bear became cloud-shape fantasies. Thickly packed greenery created their forms. The hook-thorned briar was woven throughout, moving frantic tendrils as if urging these odd steeds to greater motion.

  The monstrosities did move a bit faster, but even so Firekeeper was swifter. Had it not been for the two ravens, she could have easily outdistanced them.

  But then if it were not for Bitter and Lovable, 1 would not be here. Or perhaps it would have been myself and Blind Seer who were strangled as we slept.

  Firekeeper retreated to the spring and set Bitter on a shelf of rock that some human had doubtless made to hold his things clear of the dampness in the ground. Lovable fluttered down to stand beside Bitter, and Firekeeper ran back at the briar beasts.

  These were more sophisticated than the snake had been. The bear had paws with which to swipe. These were tipped with claws that resembled curving briar thorns as long as the longest finger on Firekeeper's hand. The bear's jaws gaped, but instead of teeth its mouth was lined with briar thorn so tightly packed that Firekeeper was reminded of the teeth of a shark.

  The jaguar also had claws and fangs. The wolves had to settle for fangs, but their motion was the smoothest and swiftest of the lot. The bear lumbered in an awkward two-legged gait. The jaguar crept, belly-close to the ground, as if it had forgotten that the time for secrecy was past, but the wolves loped forward, their pace nothing like that of real wolves, but equivalent to that of a walking man.

  The lead wolf had an arrow sticking out from its throat, and Firekeeper did not need to look at the fletching to know her shot had gone home.

  None of these monstrosities were swift, nor did they seem to have much purpose beyond attacking Firekeeper and her charges, but to this purpose they kept with terrible deliberateness. They advanced on the wolf-woman paws swiping, jaws snapping in a parody of lifelike motion.

  Firekeeper held her smouldering torch in one hand, all too aware that it was beginning to gutter, that the fire raging in the stone house would not last much longer.

  Then the first of the wolves surprised her by leaping, almost as a real wolf would have done. Firekeeper fell back, her feet going out from under her. She landed hard, kicking up, knowing if she failed, Blind Seer would return to find three tortured bodies drained of blood, and maybe, for plants were very thorough, not even that.

  XV

  YOU HAVE CALLED ME 'MEDDLER,' " the Voice said. "Tell me, is that bad?"

  Truth growled. "Is not once a night enough for you to torment me?"

  "I left without telling you what I came to ask. I meant to ask you if you wanted to know what has happened to your friends. Now I am back to ask what would you give to have me meddle on their behalf."

  "Give? Their behalf? Riddles!"

  "Let me be direct then. Three of your friends are in grave danger. Without assistance, I would wager that one alone may survive to speak with you again."

  "One? "

  "The raven called Lovable. Her mate Bitter would surely not survive the night. And Firekeeper... She could survive, but she will not leave them undefended."

  "What of Blind Seer?" Truth realized that she felt fear and sorrow that the blue-eyed wolf might be dead. "He would not leave Firekeeper in danger."

  "Nor would they leave you and those with you to come unwarned into danger. Someone had to carry the message. For now Blind Seer runs free and fast You should see him by dawn. By then it will be too late for any of you to help the other three."

  "You said you would meddle on their behalf."

  "I did, but I also asked what you would give me to do so."

  Truth's ears folded flat to her skull and she snarled, but the memory of what she had felt when she thought Blind Seer already slain was too fresh for her to deny how she would feel if the other three perished and she might have helped.

  "What is the price of your meddling?"

  "Come with me, half into madness if you must, but take back your heritage - and possibly more."

  "Done. If those three live come morning and if there is evidence to my eyes and ears that you have aided them, then I will let you put a collar about my neck and lead me where otherwise I would not go."

  "Done," the Meddler replied. "And done. Will you keep your promise, I wonder, or will you try and say I have not proved my aid to your friends sufficiently for your taste?"

  "I will keep my promise, never fear, but Firekeeper is very brave and very strong. She might win this battle on her own, and I would not be bound to you if so."

  The Meddler laughed. "That Firekeeper is different, isn't she? Heart in one world, body in another - rather like a certain jaguar."

  Truth could not deny the truth of this. As she felt the Meddler fading from her dreams she called after him.

  'Tell me, now that you have had your meddling with me, would you have acted to save the others without my making a bargain with you?"

  "Oh ... I might have intervened anyhow. That Firekeeper interests me a great deal. It would be a pity to have her die before I could have opportunity to know her better."

  FIREKEEPER KICKED OUT WITH HER FEET and caught the leaping wolf directly in the belly when it would have landed on her. The briar thorns could not harm her calloused soles, thus the monstrosity received the full force of her blow. She flung the wolf back over her body and had the satisfaction of seeing it fly through the doorway into the stone house. There was a red glow, followed by a whiter flash as the "wolf" fed the inferno within.

  Unlike real wolves, which either would have paused to assess the changed situation or rushed to take advantage of a downed opponent, the two remaining "wolves" merely continued their slow movement forward - as did the bear and the jaguar.

  Firekeeper retrieved her fallen torch. One end smouldered red and hot Darting forward and to one side, she thrust it directly into the midsection of the bear. The vines and wood from which it had been crafted were green, but the leaves began to smoke, the smaller twigs to catch fire.

  Unfortunately for Firekeeper, the bear did not seem to realize its own danger. It continued shuffling toward her, arms opening and closing as it sought blindly to grasp her in a classic bear hug. As the jaguar and wolves continued their own slow advances, Firekeeper realized she was in grave danger of becoming trapped between the briar creations and the fire-filled stone house.

  With the new infusion of fuel, the fire burned hot enough that some of the stones popped and cracked. Heat welled form, a physical force pushing against Fire-keeper's back. If she were to go much closer, she risked the cotton of her shirt catching fire.

  So far she had been lucky. When the roof had caught, it had collapsed inward. The enclosing walls of the stone house were acting like a chimney, sending all but a few ticks of flame upward. Were the wind to shift, though, the fire might escape. The four remaining "beasts" would be little enough threat in the midst of a forest fire.

  Best then not to feed that fire further, but what could she do? Her Fang could not cut those creatures apart fast enough. Her hatchet still hung at her belt, but it was a little thing, about the length of her forearm - a tool, not a weapon.

  "Feeling hedged in?" a sardonic voice asked.

  The Voice seemed to come both from somewhere behind her, perhaps a bit to the right, and inside her head. Firekeeper started to turn and the jaguar, passive to this point, reared on its hind legs and struck with a thorn-tipped paw. It caught Firekeeper on the left upper arm, drawing blood.

  Unlike a real jaguar, the monstrosity did not follow up the strike, nor leap back. Instead it stood there, claws anchored in the flesh of Firekeeper's arm. The pain was sharp, then Firekeeper hardly felt it at all. She lashed out with her Fang, catching the jaguar along the side of its head and tearing up, trying to cut as many vines as possible. She doubted these monstrosities had brains as such, but even plants died when you cut them from their roots.

  She tried hard not to think how long
it took some downed trees to wilt.

  The Voice spoke again. "Don't waste your time on that! Get the claw out of your arm. The briars anesthetize you so you don't feel the pain."

  Firekeeper suddenly understood how Bitter could have sat still while being slowly mutilated. She ripped the jaguar's paw from her arm. The jaguar dropped to all four paws and moved to clamp her jaws around Firekeeper's thigh. Firekeeper brought her knee up, pushing the head back.

  "I suggest," the Voice said, "you grab hold and shove it past you into the fire. Otherwise it's just going to keep coming."

  "Forest fire," Firekeeper gasped. She had no idea who was talking to her, but right now she wasn't going to waste breath asking. This close to the stone house, smoke was making breathing difficult enough.

  "The wind won't change or rise. I've seen to that."

  Firekeeper decided to trust that odd assertion. She grabbed the jaguar on the head, her fingers catching with peculiar painlessness on the thorns. When she had a solid hold, Firekeeper dragged the thing forward, pulling, then pushing it through the doorway of the stone house. She was helped by the fact that the jaguar never once seemed to realize its danger. It kept tearing at her, but as Firekeeper did her best to keep its head and paws below her waist level, the leather trousers she wore kept most of the thorns from cutting through.

  As she did this the Voice spoke again. "Now, I can help with the others. You've already done for the bear. It just doesn't know it. The wolves ..."

  In the brighter light as the jaguar caught fire, Firekeeper looked at the wolves and saw they looked somehow furrier. Wiping her streaming eyes, she saw why. The briars were writhing, unweaving themselves from the other materials from which the wolves were made.

  Pulling her hatchet from her belt, Firekeeper darted forward and started chopping. The image of the snake was vivid in her imagination, and she didn't like the idea that these briars might work themselves free and create other monsters. Even a few steps gave relief from the raging heat of the stone house, and she set about her task with renewed vigor.

  Dead wood and vine soon littered the ground around her, yet the briars did not drop to the ground and lie still as they should have done. Pieces clawed at her lower body, but her feet were tough and the fabric of her trousers protected her from most injury. Usually, after a few moments, the briar fragments too would lie still. Only those that drew blood persisted, and Firekeeper took care to pull these loose and toss them into the fire.

  Once, when chopping through a particularly thick section of briar, she glanced over at the "bear." It had stopped moving and was now clawing at the smouldering mass that was spreading through its interior. The mass wasn't precisely catching fire, but the bear certainly wasn't going anywhere, nor did it seem to offer a particular danger to its surroundings.

  The Voice did not speak while Firekeeper dismembered the wolves and tossed the pieces into the interior of the stone house. The bear didn't seem to notice her when she came near it, so she moved behind it and with weary persistence pushed it directly through the doorway.

  Firekeeper wanted to collapse and assess her wounds, but even more she needed water to cool her throat and rinse her eyes. She needed to check on the ravens, too. What if there had been another snake?

  But she found Bitter and Lovable well and safe where she had left them - or at least as well and safe as could be expected. Lovable was agitated. Bitter had fallen into a shocky stupor, but he was still breathing and there was no rattling to the sound.

  Firekeeper applied a wet compress where the jaguar had clawed her arm. The numbness was fading, and the pain that followed was sufficiently severe that Firekeeper almost wished for a piece of fresh briar so she could numb it again.

  Almost. Whenever she remembered the thin thread of blood running through the plant's sap, she shuddered and wished instead that she might never see another such plant again.

  The Voice spoke again as the fire within the stone house was burning out and a certain freshness in the air suggested that dawn might be approaching.

  "Tell Truth I kept my part of the bargain," it said.

  Firekeeper felt a dreadful certainty who her ally might be, and she wondered if she might have done better to lose this fight. She kept her thoughts to herself, but answered as politely as she would the One of some great pack.

  "May I know what to call you?" she asked.

  "Truth thinks of me as the Voice," he replied, "but you have heard a different name for me. I am the Meddler. Or a Meddler..."

  "Where are you?" Lovable croaked, reassuring Firekeeper that this was no hallucination brought on from having her blood drunk and replaced with briar poison.

  "I am here," the Meddler replied. "Look at the stone house."

  Firekeeper did, and drew her bream in so sharply through her smoke ravaged throat that she started coughing. Against the stone backdrop a figure was taking shape. It was tall as a man and shaped roughly so, but her eyes must have been watering for it seemed to her that the head could not decide how it should be shaped. The image shifted between that of a stern-featured man with iron grey hair and that of a handsome, amber-eyed wolf.

  DERIAN THOUGHT HE'D BEEN HARDENED to surprise since the day he had ridden west with Earl Kestrel's expedition, but he never imagined that he'd be riding horseback with a wolf in his lap.

  Blind Seer had come running up to intercept them shortly after they had crossed the second ford. That he was close to exhaustion was obvious. His flanks were heaving. Foam frothed around his mouth. When the group reined in their panicked mounts, Blind Seer collapsed in a heap on the ground. Even so, from how Plik reacted, the wolf was clearly giving some sort of report.

  "Blind Seer says," Plik translated after a moment, "that he and Firekeeper found the ravens late yesterday afternoon. Bitter and Lovable were in very bad shape, and Firekeeper remained behind to protect them while Blind Seer came to warn us, lest we fall into similar harm."

  Plik then went on to tell, with admirable concision given the peculiarity of the tale, how the ravens had come to harm. As he concluded, Blind Seer struggled back on to his feet. Derian noticed with nauseated fascination that the wolf's pads left red stains on the leaves. No wonder, if Blind Seer and Firekeeper had pressed west most of the day before, and then the wolf had retraced their day's travel and more.

  Limping and showing a tendency to favor his right front paw, Blind Seer moved to the lead and began heading back from where he had come.

  "Hey!" Derian called. "Stop. You need something to eat, and someone should look at your feet."

  Blind Seer turned his head to look back, and Derian didn't really need Plik's translation.

  "I have left my Firekeeper alone in forests stranger than we have ever seen. I will not leave her any longer than I must."

  "You'll do her scant good," Derian protested, sliding from Prahini's saddle and striding toward the wolf, "if you collapse from exhaustion. Be reasonable!"

  Blind Seer growled, but from the cant of his tail Derian thought the wolf knew he was right.

  "Look," Derian went on, "you don't handle heat well, and today's only going to get hotter. You're already dehydrated."

  Blind Seer's tail drooped, then, incongruously rose to what Derian thought was an optimistic angle. A moment later, Derian smelled horse and felt a velvet nose nuzzle his neck. He looked up and found Eshinarvash towering over him looking quizzically at the wolf.

  The Wise Horse's ears were slightly back, but when he shook his head and shivered his skin, Derian had the feeling he was indicating distaste rather than anger or fear.

  "Plik?" Derian said. "Is Eshinarvash suggesting what I think he is?"

  Plik nodded. "He is. If Eshinarvash carries Blind Seer that certainly would solve both of Blind Seer's problems. Can you rig something so the wolf doesn't tear up Eshinarvash's back? As Truth has just so kindly reminded us all, wolves lack the ability to retract their claws."

  "I can try," Derian said, already mentally sketching out alternativ
es. "Blind Seer, go he down in some shade and let Harjeedian look at your feet. This is going to take a minute."

  The wolf agreed and Harjeedian, who had been trying very hard to maintain his usual dignified air of superiority, dismounted and rummaged in his saddlebags for salve.

  Shortly thereafter they were back on the trail. Blind Seer had not proven able to stay even on Eshinarvash's broad back - at least not without using more effort than he would have done when running. Eshinarvash himself had suggested their current arrangement: Derian astride, somewhat farther back from the withers than he would usually ride, Blind Seer draped horizontally partially across the horse, enough in Derian's lap that Derian could steady him if needed.

  So situated, they made good progress. They paused as infrequently as possible, even going to the extent of having the humans and Plik eat their meals in the saddle. Blind Seer went without eating rather than delaying to hunt and Derian, aware that the wolf had probably not eaten since the previous afternoon, amended his earlier thought: he was riding with an enormous, hungry, worried wolf in his lap. And he was riding the most beautiful horse he had ever seen.

  Despite their haste, evening was drawing on before they reached Firekeeper. Before they found her, they smelled smoke. Truth, who had been unusually cooperative, reassuring Blind Seer (else the wolf would not have agreed to be carried for more than an hour or so) that according to her visions Firekeeper was alive, now informed them that although the fire scent had something to do with Firekeeper's night, that Firekeeper herself was fine.

  "Fine" was not what Derian would have called the wolf-woman when they came upon her a short time later. She sat on a fallen tree trunk near the side of the trail, Bitter in her lap, Lovable perched beside her. Firekeeper was all over scratches and scrapes. Her shirt was in tatters and looked somewhat singed. Her leather trousers showed signs of similar abuse, the fine surface gouged in countless places, torn right through in others. Even the tops of her feet were red and bloody, but her dark eyes seemed to light from within when she saw them coming.