by Kara Jaynes
“You want the rabbit?” Isabelle asked, speaking softly. She didn’t want to startle it. “You may have it. I can eat something else.”
Faster than thought, the wolf leaped toward the rabbit laying at Isabelle’s feet. Isabelle fell back with a startled shriek, holding her dagger aloft. The wolf didn’t give her a second glance. It snatched up the rabbit with its teeth and, half limping, half running, retreated to the bushes several yards away.
“You’re welcome,” Isabelle called out. She put a shaking hand to her heart. She hadn’t expected the wolf to understand what she was saying, nor to react in such a manner. She’d heard of animals like that in stories, but had never met one in real life.
She thought about the wolf’s matted fur and how thin it’d looked. “It needed the meat more than I did.” She rummaged through her pack, pulling out the last of the bread she’d brought from home. She needed to find a village. She’d purposely stayed away from the path, knowing it would stop her parents or any local help they’d enlist from finding her if they tried to look. It had worked, but she would have a hard time of things if she didn’t come across a village soon.
After eating, Isabelle huddled close to her fire, wrapping the cloak her mother had sewn her around her thin frame. Night fell over the forest like a thick blanket. The familiar sounds of birds and squirrels were replaced with more ominous noises: the hooting of owls, rustles in the foliage, howls and grunts of wild animals.
Isabelle closed her eyes. She’d been traveling in the forest for almost a week. The sounds didn’t frighten her like they had the first night.
Thud. Thud.
Isabelle’s eyes flew open and she sat up, straining her ears. Was it the wolf again?
Thud. Thud.
Slow heavy footsteps. Isabelle silently rose to a crouch, picked up her bow and nocked an arrow. Something was out there in the forest. Something big.
The footsteps paused. Isabelle stared into the night, holding her breath. Maybe it would go away.
With a shuddering cry, a huge man lumbered from the trees, wielding a massive club. No, not a man. His features were all wrong. His eyes were almost squinted shut and glowed red in the dying light of the fire. His nose was huge and bulbous, and tusks protruded from his mouth.
An ogre. He towered to a staggering height of over seven feet, and his build was much bulkier than that of a human.
Isabelle raised her bow, taking aim. She wouldn’t miss. He was too close.
Letting her arrow fly, she dropped her bow and snatched her knife, scrambling to her feet.
The arrow slammed into the ogre’s chest. With an agonized cry of rage, the creature rushed at her. Isabelle raised her knife, stumbling over a tree root. She screamed instinctively, knowing it was a stupid thing to do. “Help me!”
With a snarl, the wolf barreled out of the night shadows, its teeth bared. It leaped at the ogre, latching onto his throat.
The ogre grabbed the wolf, pulling it off him, but not before the wolf’s fangs had done their work. The monster collapsed to the ground, shook in his death throes, and was still.
The wolf stood, its sides heaving, blood dripping from its muzzle. It looked up at Isabelle, golden eyes sad. It was the same wolf from earlier.
“You saved me,” Isabelle whispered.
The beast lowered its head in a nod, still watching her. It stood guarded, as if it might flee at any moment.
“Thank you,” Isabelle put out a tentatively hand.
The wolf flinched when her hand touched its fur, then visibly relaxed, it’s eyes half closed in obvious pleasure as she stroked its neck.
“Good boy,” Isabelle said. The wolf looked up at her, head slightly tilted, its expression puzzled. “You’re a boy, right?” Isabelle laughed.
The wolf stepped away from her and limped toward the trees. Reaching the edge of camp, it turned and looked at her a moment, then to the trees, then back to her.
Isabelle felt her scalp prickle. “You want me to follow you?”
The wolf looked toward the trees again, taking a step into the shadows. Isabelle hurriedly gathered her things, trying hard to not look at the dead ogre. She didn’t retrieve her arrow.
“I’m ready.” She stood beside the wolf, putting a hand on its back. Wolves were generally mistrusted and viewed with suspicion, but the wolf had risked its life for her. Isabelle would trust it.
The wolf slowly padded forward, leading Isabelle. It was dark, the moon’s light barely reaching them through the trees. They walked together for the better part of an hour before the trees broke into a small glade. A stream trickled through. The air was silent. The only sounds were those of normal nocturnal creatures. It felt … safe.
“Thank you.” Isabelle patted the wolf on its head. It’d protected her and risked its life for her and had led her to a place of safety. She had no fear of it now.
Isabelle wearily lay down on the soft grass, her eyes barely having time to close before she was asleep.
5
“I hear it, too.” Isabelle paused mid-stride, tilting her head to mimic the wolf’s. Crying. “From where?”
In answer, the wolf turned left and trotted through the woods, Isabelle on her heels. Isabelle had learned the wolf was female and named her Ash after her thick, shaggy gray coat. It’d been a week since they’d struck up their unlikely friendship. Ash’s paw had been hurt, most likely from another wolf or beast, but Isabelle had been able to wash the wound and wrap it. She wasn’t sure how Ash understood human speech but it was thanks to this strange ability that the wolf had been able to cooperate and heal faster. Now she could leap and run without any impairment.
Isabelle had managed to shoot a few more rabbits, giving them to her canine companion. In return Ash guarded Isabelle, watching over her at night while she slept. Isabelle’s bread had run out, and she was obliged to forage for berries and greens. Ash seemed content to now travel with Isabelle.
The wolf now weaved through the undergrowth, her gray fur blending in with the shadows and light of the forest, never going too fast for Isabelle to keep up.
The crying grew louder. Ash became noticeably more agitated, quickening her pace. She whined in response to the sound. A break in the pine trees revealed a little girl standing in a small clearing, covering her face with her hands as she wept.
“What’s wrong?” Isabelle asked, stepping forward. Ash hung back, as if aware that her presence might alarm the child.
The girl jumped, startled, looking up with a tear-streaked face. “I-I’m lost,” she said, fresh tears springing from her eyes. “Are you going to steal me? I want to go home!” She was wearing a plain brown dress, dirt stains on the hem.
“I’m not going to steal you.” Isabelle tried to mimic her mother’s soothing tone when one of her brothers scraped a knee. “You’re going to be just fine.” Next to the girl’s feet was a little basket, half filled with frost berries. Pale blue, they only grew in the early spring. She picked it up. “Let’s get these, and you, home safe and sound. Which way do you think you came from?”
“I don’t know.” the girl replied. “I can’t remember.” She’d stopped crying, but her pale little face was still red and splotchy. “Maybe that way?” She pointed hesitantly in the direction Isabelle had come.
Ash padded forward, sniffing the girl’s dress. The girl flinched away, but Ash ignored her. Picking up the scent she’d been looking for, the wolf turned and began walking east, smelling the ground occasionally.
“Let’s go.” Isabelle grabbed the girl’s hand, pulling her along. Isabelle had left the forest path near her home several days before, but a break in the trees showed another, smaller path. This one looked less well traveled, with stones and small clumps of grass littering it. Ash trotted down it, her tail wagging.
“Does this path look familiar?” Isabelle asked the child.
“I think so … I don’t know.” The girl’s nose wrinkled as she tried to remember.
Less than fifteen minutes later the forest opened up
into a large clearing. A small village was settled there, thin tendrils of smoke rising from the chimneys.
The girl tugged her hand free from Isabelle’s. “This is it! I’m home!” She ran laughing down the small hill.
“Elsie!” A woman came running up the hill to meet the child, wrapping her arms around her in a tight hug. “Elsie, I thought I’d lost you! You were supposed to stay in the garden!” The older woman hugged the child tightly, burying her face in the girl’s shoulder.
“I’m all right, Momma.” The child patted her mother awkwardly on the shoulder. “A wolf saved me. And a woman,” she added as an afterthought.
The mother peered where Isabelle and Ash were standing, the wolf still under the shade of the forest’s eaves. “Who are you?”
Isabelle stepped forward. “I’m a traveler, ma’am. I was just passing through the area when I heard someone crying.” She gestured to the child, who was now seated on the grassy ground, eating berries out of the basket. “The girl said she was lost, so we found the path together and came here.”
“Thank you,” the older woman replied, but she still watched Isabelle warily. “When I discovered she’d left the yard, I thought for sure she’d be lost like the others.” She turned to Elsie. “Let’s get you inside. You can help with the baking.”
“Goodbye.” Elsie waved a little hand at Isabelle.
Isabelle watched them walk back to the village. Others?
She jerked her head toward the village. “I’m going to check it out, Ash. Perhaps it’d be better if you waited here.”
The wolf wagged its tail slowly and edged back into the forest. Isabelle wondered again what it was that made Ash understand human speech. It was more than apparent that she did, and reacted accordingly.
Walking down the grassy knoll, Isabelle approached the village cautiously. A few people were out doing their day’s work, and while some eyed her suspiciously, no one spoke to her. Something was wrong. In Isabelle’s village it wasn’t uncommon to see packs of children running around playing, but here there weren’t any. Why?
Isabelle soon discovered there wasn’t an inn here, but there were a few men lounging around the porch of a house that sat in the middle of the village. Isabelle walked over and stepped onto the porch, looking at the men who stood idly by. They weren’t dressed like common villagers. They wore leather armor, studded with steel, maces and swords hanging from their belts. Each wore a golden medallion emblazoned with a dragon.
Fabled Hunters. Isabelle had seen them a handful of times in her visits to Seabound and recognized them on sight. They were the protectors of the realm, meting out justice and extending mercy wherever they thought due. Next to the king and the four Province rulers, there wasn’t a higher ranked official. Their word was law.
One of the Hunters standing there cast her a curious glance, but for the most part ignored her. Isabelle felt a thousand questions burning on the tip of her tongue, but bit her lip and opened the door.
Inside were more Fabled Hunters. They stood in a close circle, talking in low voices. An older man, dressed in plain woodsman garb, stood with them. Isabelle decided he must be the spokesman for the town and walked up to him.
“Hello.” The older man frowned at her, his gray brow furrowed. “Who are you?”
“My name’s Isabelle.” She tried not to notice the Hunters were all now looking at her, their expressions ranging from mild curiosity to irritation. “I’m just passing through. I didn’t see an inn, and wondered if there is a place to stay for the night.”
The grizzled old man waved a hand toward the kitchen dismissively. “You’ll have to check with the other villagers. In the meantime, ask the cook for a bite to eat. Heaven knows you could use it.”
Isabelle felt her face warm at the chuckles of amusement from the Hunters. She turned toward the proffered door, intending to get away from them as soon as possible. As her hand reached for the doorknob, one of the Hunters spoke. “So ten children have gone missing? That’s quite a number. Just from this village?”
Isabelle froze, ears straining. No wonder Elsie’s mother had acted so frantic.
“Yes,” the village elder replied. “In the course of a couple of months. We’ve tried to tell children to stay close, but you know how kids are. The men in our village have tried to search for them to no avail, even with some of our hounds.”
“We’ll see what we can do.” The same Hunter spoke. Peering over her shoulder, Isabelle watched him. He was a tall young man, who looked to be twenty-five or so. He had broad shoulders and long reddish-brown hair he wore in a long tail. Handsome.
Isabelle turned to face them. “Perhaps I can help. I found one of your children in the woods today and brought her home. Maybe I can find the others.”
Her ears flushed when every man in the room laughed at her.
“You?” The young Hunter laughed again. “I’m not sure what brought you here, sweetheart, but leave the serious business to the men.”
“I reckon I’m a better shot with the bow than you,” Isabelle retorted. She cringed inwardly. Did I really just insult a Hunter? But what was done, was done. “My wolf will track them down.”
“Wolf?” The old villager glowered. All amusement was gone. “Wolves are bad luck, girl. If you keep company with wolves, it’d be best if you moved on.”
The young man watched her, his lips a thin line of disapproval. This time all eyes were on her until she left the house.
Isabelle breathed a sigh of relief once she was outside. She would leave immediately. She was lucky that they didn’t physically run her out of town. Wolves were considered bad luck, but it was an old superstition, one that needed to go away, she decided. “Ash has more sense than the lot of those fools combined,” she grumbled, stomping back through the village the way she’d come. “She could find those children, I’m sure of it.”
A cold wind sprang up bringing a misty rain. Isabelle shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. She would need to find shelter in the forest soon. Dusk was approaching.
“Hello?” a tentative voice called out.
Isabelle turned toward the sound. Elsie’s mother hurried toward her. “I wanted to thank you again for bringing my daughter home to me safely.” She held a basket covered with a checkered cloth and handed it to Isabelle. “I know it’s not much, but please take it.”
“Thank you.” Isabelle took the offered basket, breathing in the aroma of freshly baked bread. “I couldn’t have done any less though.”
She turned toward the woods again. If she hurried, she might find a spot dry enough to start a fire.
“Leaving the village so soon?” the older woman asked. “It’ll be dark soon. It might be safer to stay in the village until morning.”
“I don’t think I’m welcome.” She could see Ash standing where she’d left her, a dark smudge against the backdrop of the trees. “Some here think wolves are bad luck.”
“Anyone who helps my daughter is a friend of mine,” the woman said warmly. “Wolf, or friend of one. My name’s Fawn. Why don’t you stay at my house tonight? I don’t have a place for your wolf, but at least you’ll be out of the rain for an evening.”
Isabelle cast another look at Ash then nodded. “That’d be great, thanks. It’d be nice to sleep out of the rain.” She hurried up the small hill to Ash, pulling some of the bread from the basket and putting it on the ground. “I’ll be back in the morning. You’ll be okay, right?”
Ash devoured the bread in a few gulps, wagging her tail good-naturedly. She looked up at Isabelle with large golden eyes. Isabelle patted the wolf on the head and ran back to Fawn. The older woman led her back to the village.
On the outside, Fawn’s house looked more like a dilapidated old shack than a house, but inside it was cozy and warm, a small fire burning in the grate. Fawn and Elsie filled the small home with their chatter. Isabelle sat back in her rickety chair, smiling. It reminded her of home.
Elsie talked nonstop about anything that seemed to c
ross her mind from the pastries she ate last week, to the ribbons in her hair, to Ash, and about the darkness that almost snatched her in the forest.
“It saw me,” she pronounced solemnly, her brown eyes wide. “But then you came and it left me alone.”
“What darkness?” Isabelle asked. Fawn had stopped smiling, her face rigid in the firelight.
“I don’t know. It moved when I tried to look. Can I have more soup?” She held her bowl out to her mother who promptly refilled it.
Fawn glanced at Isabelle worriedly. “Do you know what my daughter is talking about?”
Isabelle shook her head. “No. I could ask Ash though. She seemed pretty anxious when she heard Elsie crying. Maybe she sensed something, too.”
“The wolf?” Fawn’s expression brightened. “Perhaps she could track down the children who have gone missing.”
Isabelle shrugged, hoping the woman didn’t see the embarrassment on her face. “I-I don’t think the Hunters want me getting in the way. They’ll probably sort it all out before too long.”
“Did they specifically tell you not to get involved?” Fawn pushed her hair from her face, watching Isabelle intently. She continued when Isabelle shook her head. “Then there’s nothing stopping you. Our village hasn’t had any luck finding our children, and the neighboring villages have had kidnappings, too, though not as many. Maybe the wolf would succeed where humans have failed.”
She was right. Isabelle shivered as she looked into the fire. She couldn’t sit by and do nothing. The rain drummed on the roof as she thought on it. She was only a young woman, and Ash a scrawny wolf, but together they’d taken down an ogre. That was something, wasn’t it?
“We’ll do what we can,” she said at last. “I’ll ask Ash to help me tomorrow.” She chuckled when she realized what she’d said. “You must think I sound ridiculous, but Ash really does seem to understand me when I speak.”
Fawn smiled. “There are far stranger things in this world than animals able to communicate with humans. I’m not sure we give them enough credit, really.” She stood, picking her daughter up, cradling her in her arms. “You may sleep by the fire. Breakfast will be porridge with the last of the frost berries Elsie picked.”
