Page 88 of A Shard of Ice

“It’s hywolves,” Damon growls, picking up the pace.

No!

No! No! No!

It can’t be. Not now. Not when we’re almost at the entrance to the tunnels that will take us into the Ice Court. We’re almost in the clear, but almost isn’t good enough.

Hywolves are a mix of wolves and hyenas, only bigger and infinitely more aggressive.

The snowflakes fly past us in a blur as Ranger starts to jog. I hold on tight, fear coursing through my veins. The last thing I want is to be caught by those vicious creatures.

“Just a little further,” I tell Ranger, who grows a little skittish. I’m trying hard to ignore the pounding of my heart and the icy wind that bites at my face.

My horse picks up his pace, quickly navigating through the narrow path. The rock walls on either side seem to close in on us, and I can almost feel the icy breath of the hywolves on the back of my neck.

There is more howling, closer this time. They sound like they are right there.

“We can’t outrun them,” Damon yells, his voice tight with tension.

“What are we going to do?”

“Fight. I’m going to do my best to avoid using my powers, but I fear I may have to, depending on how many there are.”

A chorus of howls goes up behind us yet again, and from the sound of things, there are a whole lot of them. A big pack, and they’re out for blood.

“They’re in full hunt mode,” Damon says, coming to a halt and dismounting. “Hold on tight to the horses. I’ll take care of the hywolves.”

He hands me the reins.

“Be careful,” I tell him, my voice shrill.

Thankfully, the gully has widened up just a smidgen, giving me enough room to hold both animals. It’s not so wide as to allow too many wolves at us at once, and that might just be our saving grace.

Damon draws his sword, and the horses grow even more skittish, tossing their heads and dancing on the spot. Their eyes are wide and rolling in fear. Froth lathers their mouths.

I watch as Damon prepares to face the oncoming pack of hywolves; my heart is pounding. I try to stay calm, reminding myself that Damon is a skilled fighter and can handle this. Still, it’s unnerving, to say the least.

The hywolves come into view, their eyes glowing with bloodlust. They’re so much bigger than I ever imagined. Their hackles are up. The front one growls low. There’s a good ten or twelve of them, maybe more. I swallow hard, not sure how we’re going to get out of this.

Damon draws a second sword. He now has one in each hand.

The hywolves let out a terrifying howl as they charge at Damon. He stands his ground, blades ready. “Off with you!” he yells in a deep voice. “Go!” He waves the swords. He advances on them, shouting at them to leave.

They all stop. The first one cowers for a moment, ears going back. Then, the beast leaps and meets its death at the end of Damon’s sword.

The beast yelps as steel cleaves through flesh and bone, and the wolf lies twitching at his feet, bleeding out into the snow.

I have to hold on tightly to the horses, who want to bolt. I don’t blame them. I talk gently to them, watching white-knuckled as two wolves stalk Damon, moving as one. They are quick when they pounce, but Damon is quicker. With a swift swing of his swords, he takes them down, one after the other. Their howls are cut short as Damon’s blades find their mark.

The other hywolves pause, hesitating for a moment. They seem to consider turning back, but their primal instincts must take over because they surge forward again, determined to tear into Damon and make him pay for the lives of their packmates.

Damon meets them with a ferocity that takes my breath, his swordplay becoming more fluid and precise with each passing moment. His movements are elegant and deadly as he finds an opening in their ranks to strike at their leader – the largest of the pack. The creature’s heavy paws come down in a brutal swipe aimed at Damon’s face, but Damon is one step ahead. He ducks beneath the paw and plunges his sword deep into the hywolf’s chest, plunging his other sword into a second wolf.

He pulls the swords free. The remaining wolves stop. The front one snarls, showing its teeth. Then, it backs up a stride or two.

I hold my breath.

Damon’s eyes never leave the hywolves as he readjusts his grip on the sword hilts. Sweat dampens his brow as he advances, shouting at them to leave. He swipes his swords, yelling in a hard, deep voice.

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