Sapphire (24 page)

“Impossible,” whispered Orin.

“Enjoying your stay?” said the wolf within Orin’s
mind. “Surprised, little boy?”

Orin didn’t answer. He knew he wouldn’t win in a
fight against this wolf. All he could hope for was the wolf to
think he was still useful after what he’d done.

“I should rip your throat out,” the wolf snarled.
“But she told me not to…not
yet.
” He looked very
disappointed.

“She did, did she? Why? Why not kill me now?”

The wolf ignored his questions. “You shouldn’t be
here. You know what you have to do. Why haven’t you done it
yet?”

This time Orin ignored the wolf’s question. “Why
shouldn’t I be here? What is this? How do these people know me?” He
scowled at the wolf.

“They
don’t
know you, not what you’ve become.
You shouldn’t have even come this way. Leave before you end up with
your throats slit by these dog-worshipping dirt-diggers. Not that
I’d complain.” The wolf growled out loud and laid his ears
back.

“I think I know a liar when I see one,” said Orin.
The wolf’s lip curled further away from his fangs. “I’m not leaving
until I find out what’s going on. What do they mean I’ve ‘come
back?’ You said—”

“What we said was the truth!” The wolf’s tongue
flicked between his teeth. “Forget all this and leave,
tonight
. Wake the others quietly and get away from here, or
I’ll drag you away myself!”

Orin glared at the flashing green eyes and white
fangs glinting under the waning moon.

“No.”

The wolf lunged at him but skidded to a crouched
halt as Orin leapt to his feet, knife gleaming in his raised hand.
“Do the other wolves know you’re here?”

He could just make out the hairs on the wolf’s nape
bristling.

“You’d better
go
home
before they
smell you,” he said, wagging his knife like a finger at the angry
wolf as if he were a naughty child.

The wolf snapped and snarled at the insult but
didn’t move.

“I don’t care what you say,” hissed Orin. “I’ll find
out the truth myself. You always were a bad liar. You should kill
me while you have the chance. I won’t give
you
another
chance.”

The wolf’s eyes flashed as he let loose a viscous
growl and crouched to attack. Orin held his knife steady. “C’mon,”
he growled back. “What are you waiting for? Or are you such a
lap-dog you’ll do anything she says?”

The wolf clicked his teeth and slavered, enraged,
but then fell quiet. The clip clop of hooves was coming nearer.
They both glanced towards it.

“Just remember your purpose,” the wolf said. “Or it
won’t matter if you know the truth or not. You’ll wish you’d been
killed when we killed the rest of them.”

Orin blinked. “What do you mean?” he said between
his teeth.

The wolf bared his fangs in a disturbing grin,
turned, and darted away not a moment too soon as a silver horn and
hooves strode into view. Orin had quickly sheathed his knife, and
sat down looking at the stars.

“Is everything all right?” Mira said, stopping in
front of him.

“Yes. Just losing sleep over all the
barking
.”

“Was there a wolf here? I can smell one.”

“He wanted to check up on me. They’re all scared
I’ll disappear again for some reason. Which I might if they keep
shoving their cold noses in my face.” He smiled warmly, pretending
that he was just joking about leaving.

Mira reached out, but could not feel a lie in his
heart. Instead, she felt
it
again. Something she’d felt when
they had first encountered him. It felt so frighteningly familiar,
so—no, she didn’t want to reach towards the energy. It felt like
burning needles under her hide every time she drew near to it. The
energy terrified her more than anything, more than the molochs, and
her terror overrode any desire to discover its truth. She inclined
her head at Orin and walked away but kept an ear in his
direction.

The next morning everyone in the village was busy
with some task or another, but they all found time to talk to their
guests. Shawna had explained a lot during the celebration, their
quest, the realms, and despite their initial fear everyone was very
kind and hospitable the next day. The children and young men were
especially interested in Shawna, so she couldn’t go anywhere
without being surrounded by a small crowd. It made her somewhat
nervous. She wasn’t used to so much popularity.

“Can I see your sword?” said one little boy, holding
muddy hands towards her crystal sword.

Lula gave the kid a scorching look, and he jammed
his grubby hands into his pockets, withering under her glare.

“You know, I make swords,” boasted a teenaged
boy.

“No you don’t!” said another young man.

“Well, I’m learning! I could make a scabbard for
that sword, if you like?”

“Do you really believe in the unicorn-lord?” another
child said. “Cuz I don’t. I think it’s just a story. My daddy says
you have a ‘fool’s mitten,’ and there’s only the Great Golden Wolf
that howled at the stars and called them down and that’s how the
wolves got here from the stars to protect us from the—”

“Shut
up
, Talba,” said the teenager. The
child pouted at him. “It’s
on a fool’s mission
, not
mitten
, dummy.” He turned to Shawna. “You’re really going on
this journey because of what that dragon told you?”

“Yes.” She was surprised at herself for not
hesitating.

She hadn’t really ever believed in anything before,
except maybe Santa Claus when she was five, but now this quest was
the only thing that made sense. She didn’t quite understand it, she
just felt it. The need to keep going, to keep believing in
something, whatever it was.

“Um…I need to go find Antares,” she said, hoping
this would deter her admirers, which it did.

Though Antares hadn’t eaten anyone yet, no one
seemed quite at ease around the large lightning wielding predator.
He was her only safe haven at the moment. Lula had flown off to
find a certain flower one of the women had mentioned bloomed in the
area. Mira was—somewhere—and Orin was even more popular than
herself right now; he was very popular in fact. As Shawna walked
by, she held her head up and gripped her sword when she saw his
posse of pretty village girls tittering around him like chickadees.
He glanced at her as she strode past, she glanced back, and they
both immediately looked away.

“
Tee-hee-hee
,” she mocked to herself, making
a blank face. “Oh my! Your arms are so strong. Can you help me lift
this piece of straw? It’s
so
heavy.” She was making
exaggerated gestures and expressions while she walked.
“
And
can you help me look for my brain? It’s
so
small that I keep
losing it. Wanna see me giggle and flip my hair? Wanna see me do it
again? Cuz that’s all I can do. Oh did y—”

She stopped abruptly mid-sentence. Antares was
staring at her like she had lost her brain. She glanced around like
she hadn’t been doing anything weird, threw back her shoulders, and
walked up to him. He didn’t say anything. He was focused on a
nearby pickling barrel.

“Have you seen Lula?” she asked.

“No.”

“Are we leaving soon?”

“No.”

“But we have to find the third realm. Those molochs
are coming! Aren’t you worried?”

“Perhaps.”

She took a very deep breath, trying to stay
level-headed. It would do no good to annoy him and have to put up
with the village-mob again.

“So, I wanted to ask.” She paused, but he just
stared at the barrel. “Do
you
believe in the, um,
prophecy?”

“I believe in staying alive.” He continued to watch
the barrel as if it was about to scuttle away.

Shawna gave it a puzzled glance. “Um. Okay. Do you
believe I’m the right…one, then? That I can do this?”

“Only if you stay alive.”

“Oh, right. Well, where’s Mira?”

“Talking to Faolan,”

“About?”

“The molochs coming this way.”

“She is?! But—”

“Circumstances have changed. The third realm is
closer than we realized.”

“It is?” Her heart skipped a beat, but before she
could ask him to elaborate he changed the subject.

“These humans,” he snarled. “They patrol and protect
the village with—” He seemed at a loss for words, twitching his
tail. “Shiny
belts.
” He spat the word out like a bitter
taste. “Trinkets they think that will ward off evil.”

“Oh, that’s what was on his waist.” She suddenly
remembered the reflective objects Faolon had had jangling around
his waist that day on the mountain trail.

Antares flexed his claws. “Bits of metal and cloth
won’t protect them.”

She was surprised at how upset he sounded since he
had been trying his best to avoid everyone.

He continued to grumble about it. “These humans are
pathetic. Their warriors should be scouting along with the wolves,
ready for an attack, and everyone else should be retreating to the
mountains. They’ll all be destroyed
when
these molochs reach
the village. There are too many this time. Even the wolves won’t be
powerful enough.
Fools.
”

Then she saw why he was so upset. Antares’ whiskers
twitched at the barrel, then he leapt at it with a ferocious roar,
enwrapping it with his huge paws. There was a high-pitched squeal
of delight from within, and two tiny hands reached up towards his
sparking whiskers. He batted the barrel over gently, and with
hysterical giggling little Mia crawled out of her hiding place.

“So,” said Lula. “He likes his children pickled
first?” She flew up and hovered around Shawna.

They watched Mia climb all over Antares and go
rolling head over feet every time he swatted her, more for her
amusement than his it seemed. Antares yowled when Mia pulled on his
whiskers, then he picked her up in his mouth by her grubby little
dress, and trotted towards the calls of her mother. Her mother,
Parla, had eventually come to like the big static fur-ball as much
as her daughter did.

“You got a new dress!” said Shawna, admiring Lula’s
orange-pink petal attire.

“You like it?” She twirled around in mid air,
showing it off. “They’re Sunset Kisses. They open at sunset to kiss
the sky with their colors.”

Shawna suddenly wished she had something more lovely
to wear than her dirty old clothes and silly pink boots she’d been
wearing since Capella’s hovel. Maybe Orin would notice her more if
she didn’t look like a shabby nest of weeds.

Lula noticed the downcast look at her torn and
stained clothes. “Come with me,” she said.

Before Shawna could answer, Lula zipped away in a
cloud of gold, making a confused Shawna dash after her glittering
trail.

“Thank you,” said Shawna, smiling more than she had
at any Christmas morning.

It was amazing how much one appreciated nice clean
clothes when all you had for a long time were nasty old dirty ones.
Lula had used her magical expertise to create a very pretty, but
useful and durable, outfit for Shawna. She had made leggings woven
out of thin bronze colored fibers from a hardy tree called a
Griffon Tree,
so named because of its fluffy blooms like the
tail-tufts of Griffons. She also made a lovely, simple, long
sleeved shirt made from pearly spider-web threads, spruced up with
a few well placed purple and black ones.

Shawna asked where the colored thread came from, and
Lula blushed, saying that she had sneakily yanked the purple ones
from the town weaver’s hut and the black ones from Mira’s tail.
Lula couldn’t make boots, however, so she had asked around until
she’d found a young man to make some for her. Shawna frowned at
this, especially when she found out it was the same pompous
teenager who had boasted about making swords.