Alpha Wolf's Calling (21 page)

“Well you said the reason the Prophecy was important to you was that it came from the Cottage at the center of the woods. You said the center of the woods gave Zamir a glimpse of the truth, even if it almost killed him,” Elsa said.

“Yes,” Kirbleitz said.

“Then how come we can't just go there ourselves to see if we can't find more information on what the Forest wants us to do, in order to get out of this place?”

“As Zamir has probably told you, the Cottage will destroy you. There has only been one person ever to survive its wrath, and that person is standing over there, watching our conversation.” Kirbleitz motioned over to Zamir, whose eyes were now glowing green with fury, though Elsa could not understand what made him so angry.

“Well, we have nothing to lose. Under your leadership, you almost had us kill an innocent woman,” Augustus said.

“Who said she was innocent,” Humburt said. “Nobody ever said that's not what the Prophecy does mean. Maybe the Forest does want us to kill her. Maybe that's what we'll find out when we get there.”

“That's what I think,” Niklas said, piggybacking on Humburt's idea. “The Doc is never wrong. He would never intentionally lead us astray.”

“What happens if we get there only to find out that we should have killed her all along, that Doc tried to save us from whatever will happen when we get there. I mean, look at Zamir, the big bastard is three times stronger than all of us put together. I believe Doc when he says Zamir was the only guy ever to survive going to the Cottage. If we all get killed, then we wasted our one opportunity to get out of this place,” Humburt said.

“Yeah, but what is the alternative?” Augustus asked. “Sit on our hands at the edge of the Forest for the next cycle of eternity?” The entire group looked down, pensive and worried. “My vote is with Elsa. I think we should do whatever we can to get out of this shit hole once and for all. If we fail, we fail. But at least you can say we tried.”

“Amen to that,” Elsa said. “I promise you guys this Prophecy isn't about me. It's got to be about someone or something else. There's got to be another way out of here. Maybe we can get more information at the Cottage.”

“If Zamir has been there, how can we can't just ask him what to do?” Humburt asked.

“Zamir told me that he doesn't know what the Forest wants or what the Prophecy means. He said he just recited the lines to Kirbleitz, because he heard them when we last at the cottage.”

“Do you think the Cottage did something to him, like made him violent and evil like he is now, Doc?” Niklas asked.

“He was never the same, he told me once.” The Doc took a deep breath, relieving the tension he was holding. “No, what Elsa says is true. I don't know what the Prophecy means. I just thought there was some significance to Humburt's dreams. After all, the Forest speaks to all of us in mysterious ways.”

“My dreams could have been just dreams, you know,” Humburt said, giving Kirbleitz some slack for once.

“This might actually be the case,” Kirbleitz said, wiping the dirt from his pant legs as he stood up with the rest of the group.

“So what you guys want to do?” Elsa asked. “I'm pretty sure Zamir will lead the way to the Cottage.” They all looked over at Zamir, now several yards ahead of them, as he stared at them blankly, his eyes illuminated from within by the Forest's spirit which had infected him more than any of the others. The sense of fear between Elsa and the group of shifters standing next to her bonded them together. She didn't know if she could trust Zamir, as her intuition told her no matter what he had done to save her from Kirbleitz's absolute thirst to fulfill the Prophecy at her expense, there was something lurking in her intuition regarding Zamir that frightened her. His green eyes, black hair vivified by some electric force surrounding his nature, and his stone-like frame all presented a dangerous, unpredictable character in their midst, whose intentions were shrouded in subtle but undeniable questions. None of them knew just exactly why Zamir had appeared out of nowhere. Maybe he wanted to prevent them from leaving the Forest, as he was doing the work of the Daeven God mentioned so often by Kirbleitz. Zamir could have been trying to save them from another catastrophic misunderstanding of what exactly the Forbidden Forest wanted from them all. Maybe there was something else they didn't know about the Alpha Wolf standing before them that would change all that had happened up until this point.

CHAPTER 33

Zamir agreed without making his decision clear, either in word or thought. He simply continued to walk along the path over the swamp over which they had passed to reach the stone wall on the edge of the Forest. Humburt and Augustus agreed to themselves that they had no choice but to reach the center of the Forest to find more information. Niklas and Kirbleitz, however, followed everyone else, because they didn't want the others to leave them behind. The Prophecy meant something, the Jordan twins thought, but they didn't know just exactly what. Given that Augustus would never give up his search for a way out of the Forest to the freedom of the towns, something Elsa herself understood, and given that Humburt would never leave his twin brother alone to enter the most dangerous part of their universe, they both agreed it was best to seek more information near the Cottage. Niklas whispered to himself that he would make sure Elsa would burn if the Prophecy turned out to mean what Kirbleitz originally thought. And indeed that ever-present threat lingered at the back of all their minds, particularly Elsa's for obvious reasons, because she would suffer the most from the original interpretation of the Prophecy. She could not for the life of her think of just what exactly the Forest meant by “show her black cruelty.” Elsa found it difficult not to let her mind just straight to idea Kirbleitz had in mind when the shifter pack first saw her. “A fiery beauty” combined with a “black cruelty” did seem to indicate something involving fire and cruelty. Burning an innocent girl at the stake seemed second to very few practices more cruel, perhaps trumped by impalement through the heart with a wooden stake or being skinned alive.

They continued walking along a dirty path, Zamir far ahead of everyone else, Elsa second, the Jordan twins behind, and finally Niklas trailing along, kicking the damp dirt of the pathway with the tips of his shoes, the caboose of a magical train on its way to the dangerous part of an evil forest.

Elsa felt terrible for lying to the shifters again about what Zamir told her. She wondered why he didn't stop to correct them. She was sure at least some of it had to do with Zamir's dubious desire to protect her. The Forest's preoccupation with her, Elsa, the innocent girl who wanted nothing more than to be reunited with her fiancée Theo, made her nervous. If Zamir was telling the truth, what in fact did the Forest have in store for her? She couldn't let the other shifters know that the prophecy did in fact refer to her, because they would use that as proof she should be tied to a stake in the ground. It was clearly a danger to her life, and because of that, she had no choice to lie.

They made camp that night in an area of the forest which Elsa had not seen before. The Forest seemed to change its scenery at will, maybe as a reflection of its varying moods—sometimes angry, sometimes thoughtful and mysterious, and at other times loving and warm. Zamir refused to speak out right to any of the men he had fought and came within inches of finishing off for good. Humburt and Augustus were the most receptive to Zamir's presence, gracious and curious about his story, while Niklas kept his distance from Zamir, fear filling his eyes, but jealousy, too. Niklas clearly wanted to protect Doctor Kirbleitz from Zamir's swaying influence. Elsa could see the attachment Nik had for the Doc was intense probably because Kirbleitz was the only parental figure Niklas had ever known. They made camp around a glowing fire, soft crackling embers soothing the tension between all the shifters.

“Tell us, man. Where did you come from?” Augustus asked Zamir, who sat on a log around the campfire, rubbing his shins from the walk. Humburt looked up at Zamir from the side, studying the hulk of a man in awe. Both Jordan twins clearly admired Zamir on so many levels. He was the Alpha Wolf.

“You don't say much do you?” Augustus asked him. And Zamir still refused to say anything out loud. He locked eyes with Kirbleitz from across the fire, looking him up and down. They were old friends, and if anyone knew Zamir's back story, it was Kirbleitz. But the Doc never said anything for better or worse about Zamir. He just sat there, his gaze blank, the fire's reflection bouncing around his glistening eye balls.

“Why the hell is everybody so quiet?” Elsa asked. “Let's hear it, Zamir. Tell us your story.” This caught his attention. He paid attention to Elsa in a way he did not with Humburt or Augustus.

Come on, Zamir. Tell them. I want to know as well. Maybe Kirbleitz is lying.

Kirbleitz cut his eyes over to Elsa, as if he heard her every thought, as if he were eavesdropping on her conversation with Zamir.

Can he hear our conversation, Zamir?

I can, Elsa. I've heard everything you have been saying.

She looked over to Kirbleitz whose mouth creased up a small crack, a twinkle in his eye.

You're not the only one who can hear him, darling.

Kirbleitz I'm sorry if I doubted you. I guess that means.

You lied to my boys about the Prophecy. Yes, I know.

Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you stop me?

Because I know what they would do. Maybe I am wrong about what the Forest wants from all of us. Maybe there's something more to the lines that we don't understand. The only one who is willing to stay with me is Niklas here.

Kirbleitz looked over to the sleeping young man, his skin a translucent green tint over his face.

He does worship you.

Yes, that's true.

Do you know anything that made you think you should burn me at the stake?

Only what I have told you.

CHAPTER 34

Zamir recounted to Elsa the beginning of his story, to all of them, as the shifter pack and Elsa sat around the fire flicking faint yellow light across the hard angles of their faces. Niklas, believing no one was watching him, slid over to Doctor Kirbleitz for protection. Humburt and Augustus strained to hide their smiles, an expression teen males might make as they await some exciting news about a much-venerated hero from their childhood, when he returns from a long adventure, carrying with him exotic artifacts of far-away lands and stories full of danger, passion, and glory. Doctor Kirbleitz seemed to know what Zamir was going to reveal to the entire group, his face laying in the palm of his hand.

“Thousands of years ago, I was once a great man,” Zamir said, beginning the tale. “A man much respected by his people, ruling over a loyal tribe of warriors. But there was something rotten in my tribe of people. I hail from Maglamoisa, you might know this place as Denmark.” Zamir continued describing his home country. He was the greatest warrior the Maglamoisan people had ever known. The young children compared him to a God, as he led 10, 000 warriors to victory in the Conquest of Kalmart between his tribe and much more powerful ruler's army. His best friend, right-hand man, Rollus proved indispensable to him during all their battles. But things all changed during the Siege of Varberg. Zamir's men were tired and worn out, drained of stamina through long hours at battle. Zamir was conscious about keeping them well fed and looked after, and he made sure Rollus did his job.

“They simply cannot go on any longer,” Rollus told him, sheathing his sword. They were backed up against a massive mound of damp soil, frozen over by a layer of snow and ice. Zamir looked across the ditch he ordered his men build in preparation for another round of bloodshed. They lay against the dirt mound, limbs bleeding, trying the best they could to stop the blood flow for their fellow warriors. Zamir's heart ached for them, knowing full well that sacrifices it took to become an effective warrior. He understood they had done it on his behalf, for the values and beliefs he espoused to them, and the promise that, one day, they would find a land where life consisted of something besides nonstop fighting and destruction.

“You promised them food and rest the night before last,” Rollus said, dismounting from his horse. He walked around to where Zamir continued studying his men, and the barren field which lay under a cold grey sky. Far across the field, no less than a few miles, were the band of Obotrites, fierce and bloody fighters whom Zamir knew would not surrender until he destroyed them all. Aware of the pain and work his men put into the battle for him, Zamir also knew the demands of war and what it took to win the battle. If he did not win this battle, he would find his Maglamoisa open to an attack which he could not deflect. The Obotrites would follow him through the winter to where his wife and children made their home, safe in their humble huts. Right now, his wife probably folded his garments, preparing for his homecoming. The attitude had been generally positive before he departed their idyll in the cove of a mountain. Rollus told Zamir about the incoming barbarian horde, furious and angry, hungry and desperate. Zamir was sure their ferocity stemmed from other military losses which they wanted to rectify. The scout had ridden ahead for a few weeks and told him and Rollus that the band of warriors approaching Zamir's township had almost nothing to lose and everything to gain—fertile women, warm shelter from the snowy elements, fresh meat Zamir's men had garnered from their most recent long hunt. There was only one thing more dangerous than a band of psychotic warriors hell-bent on destroying their enemy, and that was a famished and vengeful tribe of psychotic warriors. They weren't to be underestimated, Zamir knew as a great leader. But at the same time, he also could see the strength his men acquired through that year's relatively long summer, where he had trained them in the art of sword battle using oxen to simultaneously plow the fields for the harvest before that winter. He had spent the rest of the time showing his men, a handful of whom were still younger than 20, the importance of sharpening one's swords and axes.