A Wolf Story (16 page)

twelve

The guardians of the Abyss tracked the hare's scent through the stone corridor, growling and cursing the creature that had secretly entered their demonic domain.

Angry, suspicious, they hunted until they neared an all
-but-forgotten section of the underground fortress: a long, jagged tunnel that led deep across the mountain to a dead and darkened end. Strangely, though, the air flowed more freely as they moved slowly forward, and the scent of snow was fresh in the dusky air.

Murderous eyes gleaming, the dark wolves explored the chamber, intent in their singular purpose to kill the intruder. But they neither saw nor sensed a presence beside them in the cave. Wolf scents were strong and fresh everywhere in the cavern, even here, and revealed nothing unusual. Yet when they discovered the un-guarded and unknown entrance, framed by night, the
wolves noticed the tracks in the heavy snow; tracks of a wolf and a hare.

Staring at the lightning-torn sky, they did not see the massive shape behind them. While they gazed out into the darkness, it moved silently from the gloom at the far end of the tunnel, shadowed by a hare that moved with equal stealth. And in a moment the ghostly shapes were gone, disappearing into the corridor beyond.

♦    ♦    ♦

Aramus sensed the spirit long before he heard the quiet footfalls, his heart lifting with his silver eyes toward the darkened doorway. And in a moment the great gray wolf was there, inspiring and august, a faint smile gracing the aged face.

Aramus was beside his father before he even realized he had moved, and the old wolf nuzzled his neck affectionately, filling him with warmth and strength. But as they stood close, Aramus caught the scent of blood, and saw the massive wounds that marked his father's gray mane. Alarmed eyes looked intently at Gianavel, but the old wolf only shook his head, despising both the wounds and their power over him. And then Aramus caught the scent of Incomel.

"Incomel—" he began.

"Is dead," Gianavel said coldly. "He died as he lived – in violence and pain. And now the Lightmaker will judge him for what he has done."

Aramus closed his eyes, breathing easier knowing that the beast was dead. And then he remembered Corbis.

"This is a trap!" he whispered fiercely. "I told Windgate to warn you! They brought me here to lure you from the mountain so they can kill you!"

"I know," said Gianavel. "But I'm not going to die until the Lightmaker allows me to die. Windgate is searching the Abyss for your friend, the bear. I will wait here with you until he finds him. Then we'll all try and escape together."

"But what if the guards return and discover us?"

"We'll deal with that when the time comes," said the old wolf. "But we won't lay down our lives to these fools."

Aramus stared at his father, estimating their chances.

"Are the Elders with you?" he asked.

"No," Gianavel replied. "We are alone. But the Lightmaker will deliver us."

Aramus glanced at the chamber door, breathing deeply. He felt charged for combat, even though they were heavily outnumbered. And when darkening thoughts arose in his mind, they were instantly cast down by the spirit that had re-created his heart and mind, strengthening him for the task.

Gianavel seemed to sense the change in his son, and Aramus watched the gray eyes focus upon him. "Your suffering has made you strong," said the old wolf. "I'm proud of you. You haven't turned away from what you believe. You stood the test of faith. You endured your suffering. Even in your pain, you did what you knew was right."

Gianavel hesitated, his eyes softening. And Aramus saw the true depth of love reflected in that aged face.

"We don't have much time, so words will be few," said his father. "But I may not survive this fight. And I've waited all your life to tell you what is on my heart."

With silver eyes gleaming, Aramus looked at the old gray wolf.

"From the day you were born, from the day your mother and I first looked upon you, we knew that you were here for a purpose. And I have feared for you, because I knew that the Lightmaker would make you strong so you could fulfill that purpose. And strength must be bought at a price.

"On the night that you saved Saul, I knew the Lightmaker was beginning a work within you. Even then, I knew that the old hare's death was not without reason. And I knew that there would be more to come, more suffering, more pain, until your heart and mind would be renewed. And I knew that it would be difficult for you. But I've prayed for you, hoping that when the dark night had finally passed, you would stand strong in the light. And I know that my prayers have been answered. You don't need me anymore. Your true life has begun. And the Lightmaker has many things he will want you to do, and you will do them by the strength within you."

Gianavel's gray head bent with his words, and the keen eyes clouded.

"We may have to fight to escape, but if I fall, don't come back for me. You must survive. You must escape.

I am old, and I've lived my life. But you're young, and your life is still before you. So you must live. But no matter what happens, always remember how much your father loved you."

Silver eyes gazed upon the old wolf, and Gianavel moved closer, devoted and loving. And for a long moment they stood, affectionate and embracing, and Aramus realized that these were the moments he had always cherished the most, the quiet moments when his father was soft and spoke through his heart. Aramus closed his eyes, feeling the warmth, the love, of the old wolf. And he knew the moment would live forever within him, even as Saul lived within him.

Frantic sounds in the corridor made them turn.

Gianavel had moved even before Aramus reacted. And when Aramus turned he saw Windgate standing, breathless, barely inside the room. The big hare was exhausted, struggling to speak.

"Wolves!" he panted, gasping. "Everywhere! I never thought ... I'd make it!"

Gianavel leapt lightly to the door, peered out, and turned to the big hare.
"Where's the bear?" he growled, ignoring Windgate's wild gesturing.

Windgate returned a shocked stare.

"Oh, thank you ... Yes, I'm fine ... Thank you for asking."

Aramus gazed in astonishment as they scowled, like old friends, at one another. And he wondered briefly what strange ordeal had forged this bond.

Then Gianavel smiled down at the hare. "Good. I'm glad you're fine. Now where is the bear?"

Windgate pointed, exhausted, down the hall.

"But the wolves ... know something. It's not like it was last night. This place is crawling with wolves. A bunch of them are guarding the bear. And a bunch more ... are coming this way. I think Baalkor is with them."

"Let's move," said Gianavel, casting them both a stern glance before he looked again at Windgate.

"Take us to the bear."

* * *

thirteen

Silently Windgate led them down one corridor, and another, and at the sound of a patrol they leapt together into yet another shadowed tunnel that led only into another gloomy chamber. Aramus, mane bristling with tension, looked over his shoulder, wondering why the dark wolves had not already discovered Windgate by scent.

"Why aren't they hunting you by scent?" he whispered harshly.

"They
are
hunting me by scent!" Windgate replied, eyes gleaming fiercely. "But I've been all over this place! Ha! My scent is in every one of these halls! Let's see 'em hunt that!"

Then the big hare was moving again, Gianavel and Aramus close behind. Windgate moved quickly but quietly, always finding a way through the treacherous,
echoing halls that were slowly awakening with roars and monstrous shapes.

Guardians of the Abyss, clearly alerted to some invading force, were stalking, enraged, through the mazelike halls adjacent to the throne of Corbis. And Aramus sometimes caught sight of horrific shadows swaying eerily upon distant walls, wavering in the gloom for a long, threatening instant, before disappearing again into the cavernous shadows.

Aramus was vaguely amazed as he experienced in action the deeper strength that had come upon him. For even as he moved he felt a power working within, a power that went strangely beyond flesh. It seemed almost as if the entire essence of his heart, mind, and spirit had been transformed, enabling him to understand and overcome the weaknesses of his flesh. He knew a certain fear, but it was a dim, thin fear, overwhelmed by the force upon him, an empowering force that cleared his thoughts and cloaked him with a boldness, within and without.

Suddenly, without warning or sound, Windgate halted before a corner, Aramus and Gianavel a mirror of the hare's stance. Creeping forward with silent steps, Wind-gate cast a careful look around the curving black wall, then slid back cautiously. Eyes wide with excitement, he pointed, indicating the direction of Kaleel's holding place. And Gianavel moved forward to glance narrowly down the hall, then also eased back.

"A dozen guards," Gianavel said quietly. "We must strike quickly."

Aramus nodded, his blood thrilling for the fight.

"Kaleel will join us," he whispered.

"Good," replied Gianavel. "We'll need his strength."

Vengeful howls were booming along the length and breadth of the Abyss, and Gianavel suddenly raised his head, following the sounds before looking at Aramus again.

"They know where we are," he snarled. "They're coming for us. We don't have any more time."

Aramus nodded and looked at Windgate. "Get ready to run."

"Don't worry," whispered the hare.

Father and son locked eyes for a breath, and even in the tension of that moment, with dark forces closing upon them, Gianavel's affection blazed through his heated gray gaze.

"There's no one I would rather have beside me," the old wolf said softly.

Aramus's heart was racing, fiercely preparing his body for combat. But still, a flood of emotion welled within him at his father's words. He smiled at the old wolf, nodding, and moved beside his father as they rounded the corner.

Roaring, they rushed the guards who turned, snarling, against them. Gianavel collided against a great black form, driving the creature back before his terrifying aspect. And Aramus crashed full into the fray, shouting to Kaleel.

For a flashing instant the bear reeled, shocked, on hind legs, as if unable to comprehend the moment.

Then with a vengeful roar he burst forth from the chamber and into the corridor with sweeping blows.

Feeling alone and abandoned, the bear's fighting instinct had abated in the presence of the surrounding wolves. But now, with friends beside him and doom forestalled, his volcanic strength was again ignited to erupt into the hallway in a terrifying display of savage power.

In moments, three of the dark shapes lay writhing on the floor. And the rest, terrified that they had been met with equal force, turned and fled, their angry cries following them down the long corridor.

Even as the dark wolves retreated, Aramus spun toward Kaleel. "We've got to hurry!" he shouted above the resounding, retreating howls.

"Where is Incomel?" roared Kaleel, froth scattering with the terrible words. "Where is Incomel? He shall pay for my father's blood!"

"He's dead!" shouted Aramus, trying to still Kaleel's fighting madness.

"Incomel!" Kaleel roared. "Where is Incomel?"

Aramus leapt directly in front of the bear and shouted into his face.

"Kaleel! He's dead! He's dead!"

Slowly, the dark eyes blinked at Aramus, even as the bear swayed from side to side. And Aramus could see that his friend was shocked and angry at the news, frustrated that his suicidal energy to face Incomel in combat once again could not be released.

"We have to get out here!" Aramus continued. "Corbis is still alive, and he'll kill us all! We have to escape while we can! To fight is to die. We can't defeat them."

Kaleel's glaring gaze shifted at shadows, searching for something upon which he could unleash his wrath. Then, with a trembling effort, Aramus saw him attempting to still the rage within. Shaking, the bear turned toward Gianavel, who was staring intently down the corridor.

"This is my father," Aramus whispered. "Now, let's get out of here. There are too many of them to fight."

His anger slightly abated, Kaleel accepted the words without question, seeming to know already that the old gray wolf bore him no harm. He nodded his head.

"This way!" shouted Windgate, poised in an empty hallway. "This will take us out!"

Kaleel was instantly beside Aramus, and seemed neither to notice nor to care about the strange alliance with the hare.

Windgate, leading the escape, fairly flew down the subterranean halls, moving with expert skill over jagged rock and darkened pit as quickly as wolf ever could in the close confines of the corridor.

Racing against the doom descending upon them, the four fled through a chamber that led off into a dozen connecting corridors. Windgate instantly selected a sloping tunnel that ran uphill, drawing wind from the mountain. But howls were fast closing upon them, wolves cutting off every avenue of escape. And as they sped into another shadowy chamber, Windgate slid to a halt, livid, as the tunnel before them suddenly echoed with fiendish cries.

"They've closed it off!" he yelled, turning toward them. "We can't get out!"

Aramus whirled, snarling, as wolves exploded into the chamber they had just exited, thundering into the distant room in a roaring storm of murderous rage.

"Follow me!" Gianavel shouted above the din, charging down another hall.

Without hesitation they closed behind the old wolf. Aramus pulled alongside his father, Kaleel behind, with Windgate bounding quickly at the back. And then Aramus heard a deafening chorus coming toward them from the opposite end of the tunnel, howls that seemed to sense their approach, despising their strength.

"They're coming straight for us!" Aramus yelled.

Gianavel's gray eyes blazed, and his words were swallowed by the wind that swept across them. "They're trying to block all the tunnels that lead to the outside! We have to break through them!"

Aramus stretched out his stride, and together father and son flew forward, shoulder to shoulder, down the hall. While from the other end of the corridor a demonic horde emerged hauntingly from the gloom, red eyes blazing and separated fangs streaming froth, hurtling toward them with hungry cries.

Gianavel roared defiantly and threw himself forward with a speed that left Aramus back a stride. But even as the old wolf surged ahead, Kaleel swept up to take his place, charging alongside Aramus's silver mane. And with Gianavel leading the thunderous wedge, they collided against the onrushing pack.

Instantly the corridor exploded in a maelstrom of roars and blows that raged wildly from narrow wall to narrow wall. Aramus struck again and again, submerged in dark forms that slashed and struck against him in return. But Aramus had been lifted beyond pain, beyond fear, and he attacked anything that rose against him, drawing blood and tearing away flesh, lost in the fury of wounds delivered and wounds received.

And Gianavel, unleashing the full fury of his fighting rage, struck but once at a dark wolf before the gray one whirled, hurling the dying shape to the dust. No longer restrained by the spirit within, but compelled to unleash his wrath upon those who had provoked that wrath, the old wolf was the image of death, destroying with cold skill while the gray eyes blazed forth a terrifying aspect of purpose. And none who rose against him lived to retreat.

But even as Aramus was cascaded with blows and mortally locked with a monstrous black shape, he glimpsed Kaleel also wreaking a savage score. The bear seemed gigantic in the gloom, roaring and striking and tearing with wide, killing swipes of the heavy paws that shattered flesh and bone alike. And almost before Aramus realized what had happened, they had burst through, scattering demonic shapes wildly before their combined wrath.

Burning with the exhausting effort of their escape, they staggered past the shattered line, down the narrow corridor, and toward the chamber that loomed beyond.

"Wait!" screamed Aramus, and Gianavel cast a frantic look back. "Where's Windgate?"

"I'm here!" the hare shouted excitedly, far ahead of where they stood. Aramus whirled, too fatigued and enraged from combat to imagine how the hare had slid through the wildly chaotic conflict. He leaped up to Windgate and, without conscious effort or thought, leaned down to touch the small form with his nose.

"Not again," Aramus whispered, more to himself than to his newfound friend. "Not again
..."

Silver eyes gazed into brown, and Windgate smiled. And together they turned, emerging from the corridor into a cavern.

Aramus knew instantly where he was, and his eyes locked on the granite throne of Corbis that dominated the Abyss. It was empty. And across the huge chamber Aramus saw the shadowed entrance of the tunnel that led to the icy slope and the path down the mountain. He turned to his father.

"That's the tunnel that leads outside!"

Gianavel cast an electrified glance at the entrance before turning blazing eyes toward the corridor they had fled. Howls left behind when they burst through the dark wolves had turned and were rapidly converging upon the main hall.

"We'll fight them on the ice!" the old wolf snarled, his voice charged with rage. "Everybody get outside!"

As one they turned, hearing the gathering cries closing quickly upon the hall, but seeing the way clear to escape. And then it was there.

A prehistoric roar thundered across them as the Beast emerged, demonic jaws distended, from the shadows beside the tunnel, the tunnel that had promised escape and freedom, yet which now promised only a cruel and painful death.

Monolithic, cloaked in darkness, Corbis towered in the Abyss, baleful eyes glaring upon them with a wrath lost to the Earth since the beginning of time. And for a moment, as they stood frozen in the spectral scene, Aramus saw the bear as more than flesh. It was the Dark Lord Incarnate, that Dragon of Ancient Lore, the Destroyer of Worlds.

* * *