Page 23 of Father of the Wolf

Rath leaned weakly against Dàn’s tree, trying to get his bearings. Díon knelt beside Dàn for a long moment, and then he and Reultan moved off to check the area. Rath couldn’t see how his friend still breathed. Or did he? He was completely still. Suddenly, Rath thought help must have arrived too late after all.

“Don’t worry. I’m still here.” Dàn offered in reassurance.

He wasn’t convinced. “Good. I didn’t want to have to carry your dead weight back home.”

“Even alive, you may have to carry me.”

“Looks like I owe you again. The least I can do is carry your lazy ass home.” Rath knew it was certainly true, though he would be hard pressed to carry himself at this point. How he wished he could use his limited healing powers to help Dàn. At that, he remembered the silver bands and struggled to pull them from his and Dàn’s arms. Dàn’s skin felt cold. Dead.

“Thank you. They burned.” Dàn’s mental voice was little more than a tickle.

“Maybe I don’t really want to know. But are you dead? Am I imagining this whole conversation? Or worse, am I talking with your ghost? You should know I am totally disturbed by talking with dead folk. Even nice dead folk.”

“Not dead. But damned close. Sgrios may be able to help.”

May? In more than four centuries, Rath had rarely heard Dàn sound hesitant as he made a prediction. What if Sgrios couldn’t help or took too long to come back? This felt far too much like saying goodbye, but what if they had no other chance? “Dàn?”

“Yes, Rath?”

“Thank you. For everything. I mean for being a good friend, and you always have been, even when I wasn’t. If I can do anything, I will. You know that. You saved me today and also long ago. I’ll never forget that debt.” He would have continued, if Dàn hadn’t interrupted.

“Rath?”

“What is it, Dàn?”

“If you promise to stop bewailing my demise, I will promise to not die. Or at least do my best to live.”

“Okay.”

“Just watch for Sgrios and call him over as soon as he returns.”

Rath looked around to see if perhaps Sgrios had come back during their exchange. He hadn’t. He watched as Reultan and Díon checked the bodies of the traitors. He questioned his brother, “Reultan, are they dead?”

“Oh yeah. Very. Remind me to never piss off that wolf.”

“How many are there? I can’t see well from here.”

“Seven in the initial attack. I am a lover not a fighter, but even to me his combat skills are inspiring.”

Rath wasn’t very good at empathy, but he could easily feel Reultan’s sense of awe. “How so?” Rath was glad to have a distraction.

“He is efficient. Each kill was quick and precise. The first had his throat torn out. There’s one with a broken neck. The two Sgrios took down with bolas have slit throats. And this one—" Reultan stood over a very gory body. “I take back the precise comment. I don’t know what he did, or with what weapons, but the man’s chest is ripped open. I think his heart was torn out.” The last two were almost twenty feet past the other victims.

“What of them?”

“Knife to the back of the neck. The two wounds are exactly the same, entering deeply at the base of the skull. They never knew what hit them and there was no time for them to heal themselves.” He turned and walked back to join the others. “That is one scary wolf.”

Reultan went to Rath’s side without looking at Dàn. “Díon and I can begin healing you while we wait for Sgrios.”

Rath shook his head. Reultan was his brother, and it was natural for him to offer to heal him first, but Dàn was more critical. Dàn first, he said silently.

“I’m sorry, Rath.” Reultan said gently after a short pause to look Dàn’s way. “Dàn’s dead.”

* * *

Shortly after Hope gave the wolf anesthesia, the terrible crashing storm lessened, allowing them to concentrate on the animal’s injuries. Only a few minutes later, the night was completely calm. At first Hope welcomed the sudden drastic change in the weather, but then it took on an eerie feel... almost surreal, supernatural.

Although the quiet should have allowed Hope to control her nerves and focus on the surgical repairs necessary to save the wolf’s life, she ended up asking Steve to find a radio to provide background noise. Somehow the noise made an abnormal situation to at least seem believable. Here she was stitching up a wolf that shouldn’t be here with injuries that were too terrible to imagine. The weather seemed to be out of control, and her mind kept drifting back to thoughts of werewolves. The Eagles’ One of these Nights played quietly in the background.

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