Page 85 of Father of the Wolf

“No thanks.” Athair shook his head. “You’re better with it than I am. I have my own ways.”

“I remember!” Leth laughed. Then he moved swiftly across the park to the two who needed encouragement.

Athair raced to Sundair’s side, where the alpha’s son had knocked one man unconscious, but now faced two others. Athair grabbed one opponent from behind and surged his own special skill into use. The man slouched in his arms. His own personal weapon was a lullaby spell. One he felt fortunate to have found and had used often over the years, though rarely in this manner.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Drawing from Within

Turning the Tide

Just as Rath thought he felt the wound right over Dàn’s heart, something bit his searching hand. The mist! It just kept getting better and better. Rath pulled his hands back as the mist thickened and began to take form. Take form! But what form?

In the space of a heartbeat, the mist had formed a delicate, shimmering red dragon, which stood protectively on Dàn’s chest and hissed at Rath. It was about two feet long, but consisted mostly of tail, neck, and two delicate wings. If it had weight, it was probably less than two pounds. Maybe less than one.

The dragon circled about on Dàn’s chest and lifted its tiny head to study his face. Its long neck stretched, and it placed one delicate, clawed foot on Dàn’s chin for balance. It breathed a cloud of red mist directly into Dàn’s slightly open mouth.

Dàn immediately shuddered and breathed in the mist. He opened his eyes to meet the gaze of the tiny dragon. Then Rath’s.

And he smiled! “So, I see you’ve met Dearga.”

“Well doesn’t that beat all?” Rath said. “Here I am, bemoaning your demise again and you have a dragon guardian angel. I swear Dàn, this is the last time. The very last time!”

“I’m sorry.” Dàn said, although he didn’t look sorry at all. He sat up and stroked the dragon like it was a pet kitten. Actually, it folded its wings and arched its back into each stroke, while making a satisfied humming sound. “I promise I will try to ‘learn to duck’ as you so indelicately put it. Incidentally, you and Dearga were ranting at me on very similar topics. She has even adopted the same tone,” he added dryly.

“Dearga, huh? That’s a good name. She is very red. Where did she come from, anyhow?”

“She’s the mist I’ve had with me. You saw when it started. I’ve asked her, but she doesn’t know where she came from before that. Only that she was sent to be with me.” He used one finger to scratch her chin while she cooed up at him in adoration. “I’ve been able to see her clearly whenever I closed my eyes, but this is the first time she’s taken solid form. I rather like her.”

“Dàn, you really are...well, I don’t know what the hell you are. Except interesting. I will give you that. I never get bored around you. Do you feel up to helping with this situation?”

“Definitely.”

* * *

Sgrios spun, but not quickly enough. Bequlf, in his wolf form, pounced and his fangs tore at his shoulder.

Before Sgrios could react to the savage attack, the girl’s pony jumped into the fray. He grabbed the wolf by the back of the neck and brutally shook him, using his sturdy muscles to throw the wolf against a tree. Not satisfied by far, the pony stomped Bequlf with his front hooves, then bent to his knees, dropping his full weight on the still body of the one who had dared hurt his girl.

He sniffed at the wolf, then turned and shook his painted body in satisfaction, or perhaps to leave his anger behind. He pranced back to the girl.

She gave her companion a thank you pat and then dropped to her knees beside Sgrios.

He gritted his teeth against the pain, forcing his body to obey enough to get upright. “Looks like we’re even now.” He stood and patted the pony.

“Thunder is the bravest pony ever.”

“Thunder is indeed heroic.” Sgrios went to Bequlf’s inert body to check for life. Unfortunately, he was still alive. “Do you think Thunder will carry the wolf out of the woods?” He couldn’t bring himself to kill the worthless beast in front of the girl.

“I think so.” She froze in place. “The wolf is the man, isn’t it?”

No point in denying it, the girl was brave and smart. “He is.”

“Are you like him?”

That was a loaded question. He was too much like Bequlf. Many already thought he was a lawless rogue deserving the justice of death. They were probably right. But not for any crimes committed in the past three centuries. Still, he knew the answer she sought. “Yeah.”

“Oh.” She picked up Thunder’s trailing reins and led him closer to the wolf’s body. “Can you lift him? I don’t think I can.”

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