Wabi (15 page)

Malsumsis stood and came to stand by my side. After a moment's hesitation, Wigowzo did the same. The rain was letting up, the rumble of the thunder moving away from us. Across the clearing from us, the huge hollow oak tree was now blackened and burning from inside. That arrow of lightning had struck right into its heart. The air was filled with the scent of not just burning wood, but also cooking meat.

That brought a smile to my face. Whatever had been lurking inside that hollow tree was certainly now of no more danger than a cooking haunch of venison. And, thinking of venison, unlike so many other monsters, this one smelled as if its meat would be tasty. That made me smile even more broadly.

With a wolf on either side of me, both of them wagging their tails at the pleasant smell, we came close to the tree and looked inside. It wasn't possible to tell exactly what the creature inside had been. The fur and much of the skin had been burned from its body by the great heat of the lightning and the fire it left burning in its wake. The big creature was shaped a bit like a squirrel, but much, much larger, with impressive claws as long as my fingers on its blackened paws. The lightning strike seemed to have hit it in the head, bursting open its skull. Its dead mouth hung open, displaying some very sharp teeth.

The monster had built a nest of some sort inside the hollow tree using brush and sticks. It made for an excellent cooking fire. The fat on its body sizzled and popped as it simmered.

It took a while for the fire to burn down enough for us to get at the meat. Of course, before we ate I gave thanks. I looked up at the sky in the direction where I had heard the last rumble of thunder.

“Bedagi, Grandfather Thunder Being,” I said, “we thank you for protecting us and for giving us such a fine meal.”

Then I tore two big pieces of meat from one of the back legs of the creature. I fed them to Malsumsis and Wigowzo, who had both been sitting patiently with long strings of drool coming from their jaws. Then I tried some myself. This cooked monster meat tasted good.

All three of us ate until our stomachs were sticking out. Then I sat down in front of the cave with my back against the hillside. My two wolf friends curled up in front of me. I was happier than I'd felt since before that embarrassing scene at the campfire in Valley Village when Dojihla had exposed my owl ears to the people and called me a monster.

I felt around inside me for the pain that had struck at her rejection. It was still there, sharp as a small pointed stick, but it no longer made me feel lost and blind. I would never stop caring for Dojihla, even if there was no way she would ever care for me. But I was doing something now, something I knew to be good. That we had already found one wolf from my friend's lost pack told me my trail was right. The way the Thunder Being had just helped was further proof.

I looked at Wigowzo. I would try to find out from her why she was alone and where the rest of her family might be found. But not right now. The young white wolf was sleeping, her head resting on Malsumsis's dark back.

Of course, my faithful wolf companion was not asleep. Although he was curled up with his head on his paws, his eyes were open and his ears were pricked up. He now had two friends to protect. He knew, happy and full and resting though we might be, we were never completely safe in this dangerous valley.

By the time the sun was in the midst of the sky, we had reached the far edge of the forest. Nothing had troubled us, attacked us, tried to stop us. But we knew that there was still danger ahead.

My wolf friends flanked me as we loped through the forest. Even though she had known us less than a day, it was as if Wigowzo had always been with us. She'd seen how Malsumsis always turned to me, and I was clearly now the leader of our little pack.

Malsumsis looked over at me. From the other side, Wigowzo did the same.

What now?
they were asking.

I looked more closely at the white wolf. She was thinner than Malsumsis. It would take more than one monster meal to fill out her lean sides. But she had a lanky strength and kept up with us easily. Now and then, just as Malsumsis did, she had ranged just a stone's throw ahead or had dropped behind, scouting for danger. But each time she and Malsumsis came back to take their place by my side, they'd given me the same message.

No enemies yet
.

We were alert and ready. In fact, we were eager for a fight. That may be why none came to us. Cowards do not like to attack those who are strong and rested and prepared.

Although they'd moved with fierce determination along the trail, my two wolf friends had yelped and played together like two puppies before we started out that morning. I understood why. Malsumsis had not seen another wolf since he was that small puppy that I rescued from the Greedy Eater. And from what I had learned from Wigowzo, such carefree play had not been a part of her life in this valley.

The story that she gave us was a grim one. She told it not with words as humans speak, but in the way that wolves communicate, thoughts touching, carrying pictures and memory and emotions. I saw her pack overwhelmed by what seemed to be a pale cloud. It had confused their thoughts, commanded them to follow that trail over the ridge and into this valley. I saw them tied, shared the feelings of pain from being beaten by a shape that swirled like that cloud which had captured them. There was a shape within that cloud. It never allowed itself to be seen directly. But it seemed like that of a tall, bone-thin human being.

Hunt for me,
it commanded. They had hunted.

Pull my sled as my dogs.
They had done that as well.

Amuse me with your pain.
That too.

But they had not done so immediately.

Two wolves, who had been the leaders of their pack, had resisted. They'd refused to move, even though pain washed over them when they did so. It had not been easy, but they'd forced themselves to defy Her. Their spirits were strong. They could not fight with their jaws, they could not flee, but they could tell their legs not to move as wave after wave of a cloudy, half-seen fire swept through them. They could be wolves. They stared straight at the one who tried to command them. They saw Her. They refused Her. Finally their bodies grew limp and their eyes closed in death.

Wigowzo and the others lacked the strength of their dead pack leaders. They'd never been able to look directly at that being which possessed such twisted power. They did as they were commanded. They hunted. They stood guard outside a lodge made of twisted stumps and vines deep in that barren land at the far end of the wide valley. They pulled the sled on which She rode, pulled it not just through the snow of winter, but also across the dry, dusty, burned land where no trees grew.

They had little to eat, just enough to stay alive. They were beaten for no reason. And being forced to do those things that they did not want to do was the hardest of all. It wore them down as the seasons passed.

She had been born here and was the youngest in their pack. No other little ones had come to the pack here in the wide valley. So their numbers had grown smaller, not just from the loss of their two leaders, but from the deaths of three of the older wolves whose bodies and hearts gave out as one season of captivity followed another.

Wigowzo and the other wolves had, in their own way, also refused to be tamed. They'd kept a spark of spirit burning deep in their hearts. The one who tried to own them saw that and so at night they'd been roped to posts, jaws tied shut to prevent their escape while the bad-minded being slept.

Escape. That was all they could think of whenever their minds were not claimed by She who made them prisoners. And finally one night when the rope about her muzzle was tied less firmly than usual, Wigowzo had managed to chew through the rawhide that bound her. There'd been no time to free the others. Night was almost over. With the first light of day, the one who held them would wake. Then there would be no chance to get away.

Run, young one,
the rest had silently urged her.

So she ran. And so we found her.

The images in her mind showed me the small plan she'd made. Sneak back at night. Chew free the ropes that bound the others. Close her jaws around the throat of the bad-minded one who did them such wrong. Taste hot blood as she bit hard and shook death into that being.

It was a plan I understood. Had I been her, I would have felt much the same way. Of course I knew, as Wigowzo knew, that she had little chance of succeeding on her own.

But she was not on her own now.

I squatted beneath the last of the tall trees to study the trail that led on beyond the woods. Malsumsis and Wigowzo flopped down on their bellies on either side of me. Our journey through the forest had been the easy part. What lay ahead of us now were the swampy lands.

There were fresh tracks in the moist earth. They led into the swamp. Two very different creatures had made these tracks—creatures we hadn't met before. One set looked like the splayed prints of a lizard with occasional marks from the drag of a long tail. The other set was like some sort of cat, rounded and with no sign of any claw marks. But those two sets of tracks were not those of an ordinary lizard and cat. They were too big. Much too big.

From the look of those tracks, these two beings had been staying just ahead of us, now and then turning to look back before continuing on toward the big swamp into which the trail now led.

From the mountaintop where I first saw it, the swamp had seemed broad but flat and featureless. Now that we were at its edge, I realized it was not so. It was a maze of bushes and twisted trees. None of the trees were tall, but they were broad-rooted. Hummocks of grass rose up out of stretches of water so dark and clouded, it was impossible to know if it was shallow or deep.

The way we planned to go led through it all. I knew the trail could be traveled. Wigowzo herself had just followed it out of that swamp only a day before. Some of her own tracks had been on that trail—overlaid here and there by those of the two very big creatures that preceded us into the swamp. They had been following her scent, but turned around when they realized she was not alone.

Without a doubt, they were lying in wait for us somewhere in that threatening tangle.

Hoo-hooo.

This was going to be interesting.

I DID NOT LIKE SWAMPS. I didn't like them when I was an owl and I could fly over the top of them. I liked them even less now that I was a human and had to wade through them.

The dark water smelled of rotting things. Not good. Squishy stuff would get into my moccasins and stick between my toes. Not good at all. Then there were the two hungry monsters lying in wait, eager to attack and kill me. Well, at least I had something to look forward to.

By now there were no tracks to follow. The trail was under ankle-deep water. The mud beneath was firm enough not to swallow us up, but too soft to hold a distinct print. In any case, I couldn't see more than a finger's width down into the brown water.

However, I had no doubt that it would be easy for us to locate those two monsters that had gone into the swamp ahead of us. It is very easy to locate a large, bloodthirsty creature when it attempts to tear out your throat. Just as this giant lizard was doing right now!

“HISSSSSS!”

It launched itself at me from its hiding place among the thick hummocks of grass by the trail. I ducked down so low that my face went into the water. Yuuucchhh! But the creature went right over me to land with a huge splash in the deeper water on the other side of the trail.

I'd been expecting that attack. Malsumsis and Wigowzo had made me aware of the creature's location before we reached that wide swath of thick brown swamp grasses. Standing in front of me to stop my progress, Malsumsis had whined.

Wigowzo had placed herself next to him, her head pointing in the creature's direction. Squinting my eyes, for the light of the Day Fire was bright as it reflected off the water, I'd made out the shape of a long brown tail coiled around one of those hummocks of grass. It was just a few paces ahead of us.

I'd motioned for Malsumsis and Wigowzo to wait. Then I'd strolled ahead, acting as stupid as a baby duckling swimming across a pond full of snapping turtles. Monsters are seldom suspicious of stupid behavior from humans. They've grown to expect it.

My plan worked even better than I had hoped. The water the giant lizard landed in was very deep. It floundered about, trying to get its feet under it to leap at me again. But even though the creature looked to be at least twice as large as I was, its gaping mouth big enough to swallow me whole, it could not reach the bottom. Instead, it just raised its large green head higher out of the water, making it an excellent target for...

WHONK!

Head Breaker. It was a good solid blow, but it didn't finish the job. Not only was Big Lizard's head bony and thick, it was floating in the water. So my first blow, while painful, just knocked it back under the dark surface. A moment's pause. Then a large, yellow, splay-toed foot emerged from the water to grasp the hummock of grass next to my leg. I stepped back as it heaved its head and its other front foot up. With one sudden surge it was out of the water and onto the trail. It had moved rather more quickly than I had expected. I took several rapid steps backward, trying to stay on the solid trail and not slip off into deeper water. But Big Lizard did not follow. Instead, as it tried to pull itself forward, it failed to move.

It is hard to advance when two large and determined wolves have just grabbed your tail firmly in their teeth. Big Lizard began to swing its head back. It was, I suppose, still slightly stunned from my first blow, which had put a noticeable dent in its skull. It seemed to forget that Head Breaker and I were still there. Time for a gentle reminder. I stepped forward and made our presence known with an upward swing aimed at its jaw. Hoo-hoo!