Trail of Bones: A Young Adult Fantasy Novel (14 page)

CHAPTER 11

“Magnus! Magnus!” shouted Adolphus as he cupped his hands to his mouth to help his voice carry. “Where is he?” he asked himself. The barbarian boy stood atop the watchtower, one of his favorite places, and scanned the forest looking for his canine friend.

Adolphus descended the ladder and upon reaching the ground he turned to find his father waiting for him.

“What’s the matter, son?” asked Thayne.

The boy was agitated. “It’s Magnus. He’s not answering my call,” said the young barbarian. He could barely stand still.

“I’m sure he’s fine. He’s not a pup anymore, Adolphus,” said the village chief. “Remember, Son, he’s a wolf. He has his pack and you have your tribe. There are more important things that require his attention… and yours.”

“No, this is different. He always comes when I call. I haven’t seen him in almost a week. Something’s wrong, I know it. What if he’s in trouble; what if he needs my help?”

Thayne was growing impatient. Though the village was at peace, there had been recent sightings of Ghast Gorilla along the southern shore of the River of Ash, close enough to warrant the leader’s attention. The chief was concerned that his people had become too complacent in their forest sanctuary. Worrying about the wolves right now was low on his list of worries.

“That’s enough. Now tend to your chores before I add a few more,” Thayne said, hoping the threat of more work would jog his son. It didn’t work; the boy couldn’t take his eyes from the forest.

“The Shade Wolves are a strong and loyal race. His father is a fearsome warrior, and his brothers and sisters will protect him if necessary. Magnus is fine, Son.”

The boy looked at his father. “He’s not just a wolf. He’s my friend,” the boy said. “If something happened to me, I know he’d help.”

The chief could see that the stubborn Draghone heir would not be persuaded easily. A different tactic was needed. “Very well. If he does not return by the end of the next day, we will go to Thornmount and speak with the wolves. Does that suit you?”

Adolphus nodded.

“Now get to your chores; there is work to be done,” the chief ordered.

The boy walked off without another word.

You’ll learn. It’s not easy to be the son of the chief. You have to grow up much faster than the others. You’ll learn,
thought Thayne Draghone.

Later that night, long after the rest of his family slept, Adolphus lay on his back and stared up at the wooden ceiling of his log home.
This just isn’t right,
he thought as he listened carefully to the noises of the night.

Insects and other nocturnal creatures sang their symphony of clicks and chirps in the forest, but one familiar sound was missing. The wolves. Their voices were silent.

While the howls and barks of the Shade Wolves worried other children of Thornmount Village, Adolphus took great comfort to hear their calls. He felt safe knowing they were out there. The invisible protectors, his friends, were shielding the boy and his family from danger.

Many nights he listened closely, trying to pick Magnus’s voice from the rest of the pack.
There he is,
he would affirm as he drifted off to his dreams. But on this night he could not hear his friend, and sleep would not come.

Finally, Adolphus abandoned the fight to sleep, and he crept through the house. He tossed a few biscuits, pieces of fruit, and a hide of water into his pack. Last, he “borrowed” one of his father’s finest daggers and tucked it into his belt.

“I’m coming, Magnus,” he whispered to himself. The door creaked shut louder than he wanted. The boy paused a moment, his ear to the door, but he heard nothing.

He snuck along the house and then darted across the village, careful to avoid the night watchmen patrolling high atop the wooden towers. The boy knew their routines well after accompanying his father and his uncles during their assigned turns at the towers.

They won’t see me
, he thought.
They never look in at the village anyway, always out to the forest.
He and a few other children knew of a few loose logs in the perimeter fence that provided a secret way to leave the village instead of risking an encounter with the guards at one of the main gates. Still, he had to be careful once he was outside the barrier.

I don’t want an arrow in my backside,
he thought
as he crawled through heavy brush.

Once the torchlight from the towers was nothing more than a glimmer, he relaxed and walked upright. It was hard to see in the darkness, but Adolphus felt comfortable in the forest. He had made several trips to the wolves’ lair at the base of Thornmount with his father, and a few without his parent’s knowledge. None of those trips, however, had occurred during the thick darkness of night.

The young explorer lit his torch to gather his bearings. He spotted a path leading deeper into the forest. “That looks about right,” he said aloud. “As long as I’m headed uphill I should be fine.”

Adolphus trudged up the hill, his lone torch providing a limited range of light to make his way. He’d never wandered this far from the village at night, but his friend needed him, and that’s all he could think about.
Magnus would do the same for me,
he kept thinking.

He followed the trail through the night. It was the warm season, but in higher elevations it was cool, but still pleasant. The boy could hear the sounds of the forest and occasionally spot the disappearing image of an owl or other creature, but the light of his torch, the noise of his footsteps, and the scent of his body gave away his presence.

“I should be getting close by now,” he said as the darkness slipped away from the approaching sun. But as he crested the next ridge none of the terrain looked familiar. He turned, and yet no landmarks appeared.

Maybe I’ve already passed it. That’s possible. I didn’t stop once,
he wondered.

He decided to backtrack and scaled down a small gulch, which lead to another and another. Adolphus was lost.

“Oh no,” he gasped at the realization.

The boy had no idea which direction to go. Panic started to set in, but he fought to remain calm. He had been so engrossed in his trek that he had forgotten the food he brought. His hands shook as he took a bite of fruit. The natural sugars acted quickly and soothed his nervous mind and stomach. He squatted as he downed a biscuit and took a few healthy gulps of water.

Then Adolphus heard a sound as he swallowed the last sip. He listened closely until he could determine the direction.

“Water?” he asked. His head perked up as he looked down the hillside. He repacked the remaining food and slung his pack over his shoulder.

Scrambling down the hill, he felt his heart race. He slid down the embankment until the unmistakable rush of water echoed just behind the next hill. As he crested the mound he realized he had come to the Southern edge of the Mythik Forest and was staring at the River of Ash. He must have traveled miles upon miles in the dark… all in the opposite direction of where he needed to go.

To make things worse, no one in the village, including his father and chief, had any idea he had left. Adolphus was an early riser and often played at the outskirts of the village in the early rays of the sun. Sometimes no one noticed his absence until mid-meal. And this river was the last place they’d look.

For the moment, the young barbarian was on his own. So he did the only thing he could think of, he walked down to the water’s edge and followed the banks East, in the direction of the rising sun hoping he would run into someone… someone friendly to Draghone.

****

Dain was at the front, as he always insisted, leading the patrol. Magnus and Asher were not far behind. The wolves, now a winter and spring season older, were much larger now. The oldest of the pups, Dain was a great physical specimen - big shoulders and chest, a thick neck and strong jaw, and a fur coat as black as the darkest shadow.

The young wolves had been in patrols before, quite a few in fact. The pack depended on them to do their part, and Dain intended to precisely follow in his father’s footsteps. This assignment, however, had taken them far from the safety of Thornmount and the rest of the wolves. Still, it was important. Ghast Gorillas had been spotted encroaching near the River of Ash, and many, including Ataris, were sure they were trespassing on Northern shores and in the Mythik Forest itself.

The Ghast hated the water, but with enough motivation they had been known to cross the river at shallow and narrow points. Jiro, one of Ataris’ brothers, was the last to patrol the river and had not been seen since the first snowfall. Even worse, his body had never been recovered.

“Please, father, let me patrol the River this time. I am ready. I am fit,” Dain had pleaded. Knowing the length of the journey, the youth of his son, and the recent tragedy in those lands, the alpha wolf was hesitant to grant Dain’s request. But Dain had been so persistent that Ataris finally relented, insisting upon one condition.

“All right, you may patrol the Northern shore only. Under no circumstance do you cross the waters to the South. Do you understand?” the wolf leader asked his son.

Dain sat tall; proud his request had finally been approved. “Yes, father. I do.”

“Good. And one other thing. Take your brothers with you. You are responsible for their safety, and they yours,” he added before Dain could hurry off.

What? Magnus and Asher? What for?
asked the wolf in his mind.
I can do this on my own; I don’t need to babysit those two whelps. They’ll only slow me down.

“I can do this myself, Father, I don’t need them,” he protested.

Ataris knew better, and he knew Dain. This was not an incidental request. His oldest son was brash, a trait he had hoped the young wolf would have outgrown by now. Requiring Magnus and Asher to tag along would make Dain think twice before charging headlong into trouble… or so the alpha wolf hoped. Besides, Magnus had shown a knack for keeping a cool head during heated moments.
Now that’s the sign of a true leader,
thought Ataris.

“I agree, you could, but they need the experience as well. And there is strength in numbers. It is not a request, but an order. Understand, Son?”

Dain’s proud posture slumped a bit. “Very well. I’ll take them, but they better keep up.”

Now he stood at the top of the ridge, waiting for his younger brothers to catch up.

“I thought we were on patrol, not in the middle of a race,” complained Asher as he ascended to the top and stood next to his brother.

“My thoughts exactly. A whole troop of Ghast could march by, and we’d never see or smell them if we keep moving so fast,” added Magnus as he joined the group.

The two younger wolves panted as they caught their breath while Dain peered down at the river rushing along below. “I told you, we have a lot of ground to cover. Next time you can stay home and clean yourselves. Or have mother do it for you,” said Dain.

“Very funny,” said Asher as he plopped down, his tongue still hanging from the side of his mouth. “I’m hungry too. A wolf needs more than a couple of bark squirrels to satisfy him.”

Dain looked over at his lazy brother. “Father once went many days without food during the Great War. He could barely walk, or run, yet he fought. Then he feasted on his defeated enemy. If the Ghast dare trespass into our lands on my patrol, I’ll feed on them just as father did.”

Asher looked unimpressed.

Dain couldn’t resist one last jibe. “And you can have the entrails when I’m done. How’s that?”

The younger wolf just snorted, not wanting to continue the argument or to give his arrogant brother more ammunition for insults.

“What about you, Magnus, aren’t you going to whine about your stomach, or how your fur smells of waste?” taunted Dain, but Magnus was not paying attention.

The youngest of the wolves was sniffing the air. He had caught the scent of something out of place.

As much as Dain hated to admit it, Magnus’s sense of smell surpassed his own. He had questioned his brother’s deductions multiple times, only to be proven wrong by his Magnus’s keen instincts.

“What is it?” asked Dain.

Magnus sniffed again. “I’m not sure just yet. It’s down by the river,” he answered. He lowered his head and sniffed the ground, comparing various scents.

The oldest of the siblings grew impatient. “Is it the Ghast? Are they here, across the river?”

“Yes, they were on this side of the river. But I don’t know when,” Magnus said as he followed a trail to track the new odor.

“I knew it. The Ghast want our lands. They want war with the Shade Wolves again.” The young leader seemed almost happy about the news.

Even Asher was getting excited, hopping up to follow Magnus as the trio descended the ridge.

“I didn’t say that. The Ghast
were
here, but I’m not sure they are now. And… there’s something else,” Magnus said. Then he raised his snout and inhaled a deep breath. In one quick moment, Magnus finally recognized the elusive smell.

“What? It can’t be!” he exclaimed and then ran down the hill.

Asher and Dain were puzzled. “Wait! Magnus! What is it?” shouted Dain as the two wolves dashed after their brother.

“Magnus!” shouted Adolphus as he saw his friend running toward him. He gave the wolf a big hug as the grown pup almost knocked the boy down. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Magnus shot back as his bushy tail wagged. “Are you alone?”

The boy patted the wolf and rubbed his furry neck. “I was looking for you! Where have you been? It’s been many nights since I saw you last. I had to find you. I had to know you were okay.”

Dain and Asher approached, running at full speed until they saw Magnus and then the boy. “A barbarian boy?” asked Dain.
Ugh,
he thought.
More whelps to care for. My first real assignment, my first real patrol, and this is what I get.