Under the Wolf's Shadow

by A. Katie Rose

  I buckled my sword across my back and accepted a sleepy Tuatha from Kel’Ratan.

  “That’ll teach you to stay up so late partying,” I teased, as Tuatha yawned, his eyes rolling back in his head. “Sluggard.”

  Thunder and Digger strolled to stand at Mikk’s knees while Silverruff scratched an urgent itch at his neck. As Rygel set Arianne in her saddle, Black Tongue and Shadow grappled in a mock fight, rolling around in the dust, savage growls cutting through the laughter and voices of the crowd. No few Jha’fhar clapped their hands and pointed at the sight.

  “I’m off,” Bar said, launching himself into the air. “Time to keep an eye on things, I expect. Give that moron my thanks, will you?”

  “Excuse me?” I demanded. “When did you suddenly turn gracious?”

  Catching a warm thermal, Bar circled higher, his beak tilted downward and parted in a griffin grin. “I’m a gracious fellow. You just never paid attention to that side of me.”

  “What did he say?” Li asked, reining his grey in beside Mikk.

  “He said to give you his thanks.”

  Kel’Ratan nudged his bay stallion to my right, his mustache bristling. “Somehow Bar and gracious don’t mix well in the same sentence.”

  I admired Bar’s graceful bank, his huge wings sweeping serenely up and down, his forelegs tucked under his shoulders, his lion half following behind on the warm wind. Nor was I the only one. Few Jha’fhar and no Kel’Hallan kept their eyes lowered until Bar flew out of sight. Even Black Tongue and Shadow ceased their battle and stared upward.

  On her Rufus with Rygel riding Shardon behind her, Arianne expertly guided him into line behind me. Little Bull paced at her right flank. I wondered absently if she still missed Darkhan. I know I certainly did.

  “As we ride this day,” Li said, nudging his grey into a trot toward the river, with Mikk and Kel’Ratan’s bay keeping pace. “You must tell me what it’s like to fly.”

  The Tears of a Unicorn

  Chapter 7

  Darkhan groaned and belched contentedly. “Damn, but I’m full.”

  We lounged indolently on the stony earth at the edge of a sheer drop off, soaking up the late afternoon sun. Behind us reared the mountainside where, working as a team, we’d driven a bull and a small heifer over the edge. We killed them early in the morning and feasted on both numerous times throughout the span of twelve hours.

  I gazed out over the mountains, drowsy but not really feeling the need to sleep. The second tall range lay in my sight, tall and steep, their distant crests buried in dark clouds. More snow was on the way, yet the air didn’t have the threat of another blizzard in it. Probably a brief storm that would throw some snow at us, just to make travelling difficult.

  My pace had slowed to a crawl compared to what it had been before Tashira and Darkhan joined me, but I found I didn’t much care. Tashira needed to graze frequently, and as I hardly wanted him thin, Darkhan and I hunted or napped while he did so.

  After Ja’Teel’s latest attack, I kept my senses and powers on heightened alert. I took no chances, and hid every trace of our passing with both magical and physical efforts. While I widened my net’s space so no matter where Darkhan or Tashira were, they were also hidden behind its cover. Nor did I permit either of them to stray very far from me. Though Tashira’s penchant for calling me ‘fussy old maid’ grew old quickly, I didn’t fracture my resolve.

  “Will we need to shelter from that?” Darkhan asked after a huge yawn.

  “I’d rather sleep in warmth and comfort, wouldn’t you?” I asked.

  Darkhan thumped his tail in agreement. “How long before it hits us?”

  “Nightfall,” Tashira said, ambling up behind us. “And you both are milksops.”

  In the air far below me, vultures soared on extended wings, circling the corpses of our meals. I didn’t mind allowing other mountain creatures from eating what was left. No doubt a few foxes wrangled over them, not permitting the vultures or rooks to alight until they filled their bellies.

  “Bite me,” I replied amiably.

  Darkhan rolled onto his back, a happy grin splitting his face. His tongue oozed from the side of his jaws as he flopped back and forth, scratching his back. “What’ll you bet Blackie here joins us if we find a cave big enough?”

  I glanced sidelong at Tashira. “Not taking that one.”

  Tashira snorted. “Get on your feet, puppies. Time to go.”

  He strode firmly on, following the cliff edge as it gradually sloped downhill and into the valley below. His thick tail bounced against his hocks, his head bobbing with every stride. The curve of the hill forced him from our sight. Only the stunted mountain pines, boulders and the ever-present skeletons of trees long dead remained. The light mountain wind soughed delicately through the treetops before plummeting into the valley below.

  “Who’s in charge here?” Darkhan laughed, rolling onto his chest and belly, his front paw folded under him.

  “Take a guess, you flea-bitten mutt.” Tashira’s voice floated faintly up through the whispering pines. “Don’t make me come back up there.”

  “Mother calls,” I said, rising to stretch languidly, my rump high. My spine popped audibly. I yawned and shook my ears before entering into a full and very satisfying body shake. My fur fell into place, sending out dust, bits of pine needles and twigs. Ah, nothing could compare to a nice shake after a full meal and a rest in the sun.

  “Race you,” Darkhan challenged the instant before his paws flung dirt and needles into my face.

  “Cheater.”

  He was fast, I’ll give him that. But my longer legs passed him easily before I reached Tashira. Loose dirt flew from my paws in a shower as I galloped headlong down into the valley, leaping thickets, boulders and whitened dead trees. Birds, chirping in panic, burst up from the ground before my laughing muzzle. A herd of elk broke apart and fled in every direction as I burst upon them like a black daemon. Antlers flared high as the beautiful creatures bounded into the safety and shelter of the trees.

  Thudding hooves announced Tashira’s entry into the race. I put on more speed as he galloped up beside me, his mane flying in the wind above him, his tail floating behind, a magnificent banner of war. His neck flattened out as his knees rose in perfect harmony with mine as we leaped a huge pine tree, fallen in the recent past. Thick spires threatened to catch us on deadly sharp tips should we fail to gauge the distance. More obstacles like boulders, smaller rocks, living thickets and dead white logs with worm paths etched into their bones forced us to jump high.

  Down and down we galloped, side by side, following the hairpin curve of the lower valley, splashing through a wide, yet shallow stream and sending silver droplets of water high to sparkle in the sun. The valley bottom gave out, our only path now heading upwards. Higher we climbed, our hind legs pushing, propelling us forward as the climb steepened. Tashira’s quarters bucked as the brush and trees thinned, the blue sky above beckoning us on.

  Small stones rolled downhill under the thrust of Tashira’s hooves and my paws. Thorny bushes caught at my legs, and a rabbit streaked past my nose. Tashira’s dark eyes laughed, almost on a level with mine, my own jaws wide in a lupine grin. My tongue flapped in the wind of my own creation.

  Cresting the peak, we raced across the gentle, upward slope, aiming for the thicker forest. Before we reached it, Tashira dug his hind hooves into the stony soil, his quarters low, his front hooves still galloping forward. I, too skidded to a stop, dust flying about me in a cloud as Tashira reared, his front hooves boxing the air.

  High against the sky, his black form displayed a dark silhouette of a horse on a field of blue. I pirouetted under him, my own paws lifted against his front feet, brushing them in passing. “I won,” I crowed, rearing again to slap his muzzle with my paws.

  He jerked his head high, away from me. “I won, nimrod.”

  “Did not.”

  “Did, too. Cur.”

  “Donkey.”

  Settling to fo
ur feet once again, I laughed and panted, my tongue low, as Darkhan finally caught up to us.

  “Bugger,” he exclaimed, winded, his tongue hanging lower than mine. “I am sooo out of shape.”

  Tashira pranced on his toes, not winded at all. “Wimp.”

  Darkhan eyed me sidelong. “Even if we find shelter big enough, let’s not let him in.”

  I laughed. “Come on. Daylight’s wasting.”

  Trotting northeast along the ridge, I scented the air. The freshening breeze brought with it the faint hint of snow. While the storm clouds hadn’t reached the sun yet, they would very soon. The temperature already dropped significantly.

  “Will you pass another night in a cave with a blazing fire?” Darius asked.

  “Is there something wrong with that?”

  “Tashira’s right. You’re a milksop.”

  “You just keeping thinking that way,” I replied, striking a strong lope uphill. “Right up until the moment I kill your pal.”

  “It’s not my pal.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Hearing one side of a conversation is rather weird,” Tashira asked Darkhan behind me, “don’t you think?”

  “It’s like he’s out of his mind. He talks to someone who isn’t there.”

  “Aren’t there places for folks like him?” Tashira whispered though he intended I hear him clearly.

  “If there aren’t,” Darkhan observed in his own version of a whisper. “There should be. Must keep everyone else safe, don’t you know.”

  “You two seriously need a hobby,” I commented as I dodged rounded rocks and dead trees, their branches pointing like accusing fingers toward the sky. I didn’t slow the fast pace I set despite their commentary.

  “I think we just found it.”

  Tashira’s prediction of the storm’s arrival proved most accurate. Just as the sun vanished behind the mountain range we needed to cross, the first flurries began. Not a great deal at first, however. Swirling eddies of snow, caught on the slight wind skidded lightly across the ground. High above, the mountain peaks vanished under the heavy, undulating mist. Up ahead, a cliff reared high above us, broken boulders, the ever-present thickets and stunted pine trees littered its foot.

  I wondered absently if caves might be found there. If so, I’d light another fire. There’s certainly plenty of firewood handy.

  Darkhan trotted at my tail, while Tashira lingered behind, nibbling on a delicacy he found. I heard his teeth grind, the swish of his tail, the soft thud of his enormous hooves on the stones. He’d catch up soon.

  A strange scent caught my attention, and I stopped dead. Darkhan bumbled into my rear with a broken off exclamation.

  I sniffed, glancing around. I saw nothing threatening, and the odor itself didn’t raise my alarm instincts. Like the delicate fragrance of a spring flower it tickled my nostrils. The muted sunlight cast only dim shadows, the flurry thickening around us. Within an hour, the darkness would set in. Bending my head down to the light snow already on the ground, I nosed about, seeking tracks. The odd scent had me curious.

  “Whoa,” Darkhan said, his tone awed. “Check it out.”

  I lifted my head, glancing first to Darkhan. Then I followed the direction of his golden eyes. At first, I saw nothing but swirling snow, green-white pine and grey boulders dusted lightly with snowfall. My eyes fastened on what looked like twin rubies amidst the grey-white mist.

  I gasped. Both wonder and delight filled my heart.

  All but invisible in the white eddying mist stood a unicorn.

  Pearl white, it stood slightly shorter than Darkhan, perhaps the size of a large pony. Delicate, almost frail in appearance, its slender limbs ended in pale, gold-washed hooves. Its trim body, shaggy with a well-grown winter coat, seemed almost translucent, and gave off a faint glow even in the loaming. A white mane and tail, as long as Tashira’s by comparison, brushed the snow. It’s single horn–

  Iridescent, it grew from between the creature’s dark garnet eyes, colored as a luminescent shell fresh from the sea, and glimmered with a multitude of colors. ‘Twas as though the horn held a life of its own. The lance started out thick at the creature’s forehead, and appeared to twist outward. Yet, it ended at a wickedly sharp point a foot or so beyond.

  “Easy, my lady,” Darkhan said. “We won’t harm you.”

  Only then did I observe the threat in that lowered lance, the spark of deadly fury in those blood red eyes. Strong muscles bulged under its white coat, tense, prepared to spring. Despite our wolf sizes and large fangs, that delicate creature stood prepared to take us on, battle-ready. All it needed was an excuse.

  Heeding Darkhan’s voice and the tension quavering in the air, Tashira clattered over the hilltop and halted behind us. I dared not take my eyes from the deadly unicorn before me to glance over my shoulder. I heard his quick intaken breath of astonishment.

  “Little sister,” Tashira said softly. “Believe him. They’re not what you fear.”

  “Rest easy, pure one,” I murmured, my tail slinging from side to side. “You are not our prey now–or ever.”

  Tashira stepped forward, his inky mane cascading over me like a hairy waterfall. “Wolves are never your enemy. Trust in them as you trust in me.”

  At his, our, words, the unicorn relaxed. Her horn rose as her body trembled violently. Her ruby eyes softened, their once hard edge now gone. Great tears welled and slid down her face to drop to the snow between her gold hooves.

  At her feet, her silvery tears vanished into the light, swirling white and grey earth. Droplets darkened the white for a moment, sparkling like jewels held under the sunlight. Then they vanished a though they’d never been.

  Instantly, green shoots uncoiled like serpents from between her hooves. I caught my breath, wondering absently if I was the only one who witnessed this miracle. Like tendrils of ripe seaweed floating in the sea’s current, the living plants shot from the soil, waving in the wind.

  Like any creature suddenly emerging from warmth into deep cold, they halted, considering. I watched with zero breath in my chest as the young sprouts turned their backs on the snow and winter, and dove deep into the rocky soil. I’d no doubt that there they’d remain until spring brought warmth, sunlight and new life. Only then would they emerge, the tears of a unicorn creating a flower never before seen in this world.

  I knew its petals would be white and dark red.

  “I–I can’t–” the unicorn said softly. She gulped hard and tried again. “I can’t get her out. I tried. I can’t get her out.”

  Her tears undid me. I strode forward, unmindful of that dreadful lance, and towered over her. She stood her ground, unafraid, her damp eyes raised to mine. “What happened, dear one?”

  Forced to tilt her head back to look into my face, mere inches stood between her horn and my throat. “My daughter. She fell–I warned her to stay close, but–”

  “Show us.”

  Turning, the unicorn trotted daintily up the short hill, between a group of shattered boulders. Her tail created a strange, undulating track in the newly-fallen snow, concealing her fresh footprints. Any hunter following them might believe they were not brushed-out trails at all but the wind whispering over the concealed heather.

  Amongst the sharp rocks, a dark crevice opened up in their midst. A large dark hole appeared amid the stony crown, partly concealed by thorny bushes and scrub oak. A tall fir, with a thicket of bare, brown alders, poplar and elms flanked its broad green branches, and sheltered the cavern’s mouth. We discovered a cave, not in the side of a hill but under one.

  There was room enough for me, the unicorn and Darkhan, but not for Tashira. As we three stuck our faces into the hole in the earth, Tashira planted his front hooves on a low boulder and peered down over our heads.

  A faint iridescent glow glimmered from the depths. Ruby eyes met ours, a tiny bud between them. She lay on her folded legs, a tiny unicorn foal, dimly gold hooves curled beneath her.

  “Are you hurt, child?�
�� Darkhan asked, his strong voice booming down and echoing amidst the small cavern.

  A tiny voice, almost unheard by even our keen ears answered him. “No.”

  I sat back, calculating the width of the cavern mouth. In dismay, I discovered no way in hell could I fit and pass through. My massive form could not possibly squeeze past its granite mouth. Maybe as a human–

  I eyed the unicorn. “Can you drop down there?”

  She glanced up. “Yes. But I haven’t the strength to–”

  “I have.”

  Darkhan rose to his paws, his tail wagging, as he dropped his head into the hole and sniffed. Even his rapid nose brought on the echoes. I hoped he didn’t bring the little one into a panic.

  “I can get in there, no sweat.”

  “Don’t land on her,” Tashira warned. “You’re heavy enough to squash her into jelly.”

  “Chill, Blackie,” Darkhan said easily. “I got it covered.”

  Suddenly, I felt grateful Darkhan was several pounds underweight. He slid, eel-like, into the hole. First his front legs and shoulders slid through, catching on the rock rim, then his body and hind legs dropped out of sight. I heard his paws strike stone.

  Alarmed that he dropped all his wolf weight onto the foal, I called down. “You didn’t hurt her, did you?”

  His vague shadow-shape stood darker than the cavern, his long tail waving.

  “Of course not,” he said. “She’s just fine, aren’t you, lass?”

  Once more, a tiny, almost unheard voice drifted up. “Yes.”

  I caught the gleam of his amber eyes and her garnet ones as they both stared upward. The rest of her, of course, had vanished under his dark bulk. I made out his dark form and wagging tail, his legs splayed over her gleaming white. Snow swirled in small eddies, falling into the cavern beneath my feet and dusting Darkhan’s fur.

  “How do you intend to get back up here?” I asked, thinking human hands might be necessary.