6.
Alpha’s Captive
The days went by unnoticed, passing through each the same as the one before. Tir’s wounds from the forest fire were making steady progress in their healing, assisted by the daily poultices of comfrey and plantain Palva provided. The Gatherer herself spend most of her time outside of the hollow having quiet meetings with the alpha, though she wouldn’t tell Tir what they were about. He did notice, however, that she came back from most of them in an angry mood similar to the one she had been in when she had brought back the comfrey—it seemed as though she and the alpha were arguing about something. Tir hadn’t the faintest idea what the problem could be, but it unnerved him. While Palva was gone, she always sent another member of the pack down watch him. Most of the time, he was sleeping—he did that often—but sometimes he would be awake, and therefore forced to endure their wide-eyed stares and blatant fear of him. Tir could never figure out why Palva had to have wolves watch him—after all, it wasn’t as though he was dying anymore. But he did not give it much thought; different packs have different ways of doing things, after all. And as his wounds healed, he began to grow tense with excitement. Spending the long days in quiet healing, there had been plenty time for him to formulate plans inside of his head, plans to drive off the nightmares that were, admittedly, waning now.
When the sun set at the end of each day, Tir watched the light as it darkened down to a low-blazing red. The sight of the crimson light no longer caused him fear; on the contrary, he gazed upon it with a sort of defiance as it settled down into silky black. The fire had not cost him his life, in spite of everything. He was charred, yes, but he was fortunate enough to be able to speak and move, and during his days of thoughtful healing, he had convinced himself that he had been charged with the task of finding and rebuilding the life he had once had. The fire was a test, not a curse. He was going to find his pack, and they would soon be able to look back upon the memory of the flames and laugh.
Palva, however, was less at ease. She sensed the outsider’s mounting excitement as she continued to go on with her healing work, and knew he was growing restless as his burns faded. She knew he would soon want to leave for his old pack, and it felt wrong to keep him from that by force. Palva was by no means sentimental; she would do what was necessary to protect her pack, and if Tir was disadvantaged by that, then it was an unfortunate detail that could not be helped. But it felt wrong. Force was a clumsy means by which to bring about something as fragile as a prophecy.
Liyra had given her an order, and not even the Gatherer could defy a direct order from the alpha. Dispute it, perhaps—which she had done her best to do—but not defy it. Alpha Liyra refused to be swayed. It was not that Palva didn’t want Tir to stay—no wolf in the pack cared about the prophecy more than she—but her gnawing instinct would not allow her rest. And seasons of experience had long since taught her that force never works. Compromising, yes—but the only thing force creates is trouble. Lots and lots of trouble. Surely Liyra knew that?
“Palva! Tir!” Liyra was calling in a falsely-cheerful tone. The alpha emerged from the grass tunnel and strode into the clearing, followed by a large red she-wolf and a dusty-grey male with the glinting eyes of a beetle. “I bring good news!”
Palva glanced up from her work suspiciously, surprised to hear Liyra call Tir by his name. In the past, she had referred to him as “the outsider,” or, “the stranger.” Eyeing the two wolves on either side of her, Palva also had a fair idea of what this “good news” could mean. She stared at the alpha in disbelief. Hadn’t she told Liyra it was too soon?
“You mentioned to me just last night that he was almost healed, Palva?” Liyra continued. The other two wolves were staring down at Tir, who was shifting, wary-eyed under their gazes.
“I did,” Palva said, measuring her words with care, “But there’s more than one kind of healing, Liyra, and I am certain that I mentioned something about not making certain rash decisions.”
“What do you mean by that? You told me yourself that he almost to full health!”
Palva gave the Alpha a significant glance, but Liyra flicked her tail.
“Oh, I understand,” she said, smiling. “No, no, there’s no need to worry about that. I’m sure he will be agreeable,”
Unconvinced, Palva raised her brow and looked down at Tir, who was surveying the alpha with deep suspicion.
“Why am I supposed to be agreeable?” he asked. “What are you talking about?”
“Your Placement, of course!” said Liyra with surprise, as though he should have known this. “Hasn’t Palva told you yet?”
Palva groaned and turned away.
“What’s my Placement?” Tir demanded, green eyes narrowing. “What are you talking about?”
“To begin with, this is Simetra and this is Sirle,” Liyra said in a louder voice, ignoring Tir’s stammering irritation. The two wolves at her side stepped forward as they were introduced. Simetra, the red-brown female, gave a curt nod, but Sirle offered no sign of acknowledgement.
“Simetra is our chief Hunter, and Sirle is our chief Sentinel,” Liyra continued with a too-broad smile. “Every wolf in this pack has a place, either as a Hunter or a Sentinel, so that the pack’s work is divided and certain shares are given to those best suited for the job. Once you are old enough to be Placed —”
“Wait a moment,” Tir said. “You said I could leave when I wished. And I am leaving soon, there is no need for…” his voice trailed away at the stony expressions on the faces of Simetra and Sirle.
“All wolves, however short their stay, must have a place in this pack.”
“So this is temporary, is it?”
“Temporary, yes,” said Liyra, her smile growing strained. “I meant to mention that first.”
Tir settled back down into the grass, reassured. “How does it work?” he asked in a politer tone.
Looking relieved, Liyra shot a glance at Palva, who glared. Liyra looked away, as though embarrassed; but when she began again, her voice was clear.
“You will go on a full hunt with Simetra and a few others. Your abilities will be assessed, and Simetra will report back to me whether she thinks you have the makeup of a Hunter. The next day,” she went on, after pausing for a moment to nod at Simetra. “you will join a patrol to scout our territory. This time, Sirle will assess you, and he will report back to me. Though, if Captain Leron has returned from his patrol by then, then he will assess you—an honor, I assure you! You Placement will take place at the end of that day, and you will either spend the night in the Hunters’ or the Sentinels’ dens.”
“It’s going to take two days?” Tir exclaimed. “But I plan to leave before then. There’s no need for—”
“Liyra,” Palva interrupted, sensing that this could soon turn nasty. “Could I have a short talk with you—in the tunnel?”
“Of course, Palva,” said Liyra with false cheeriness. She sounded relieved for an excuse to leave. “I’ll be to discuss this with you.”
Palva padded out of the hollow with Liyra at her heels. As they passed Sirle, she saw Liyra lean over and whisper to him. He nodded and grinned a rather stoat-like smile, revealing rows of tiny, sharp teeth. Palva growled in her throat, and Liyra hurried after her.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Palva brushed her way past Liyra and whipped around to face her.
“I told you it was too soon!” she said.
Liyra glanced over her shoulder. “We had to do it at some point. It has been days, after all,” she mumbled.
“And you know what he has been doing all those days? Planning when to leave, that’s what! So when are you going to tell him he can’t?”
“As late as we can get away with it,” Liyra replied. “Perhaps after a few days of living in this pack, he will forget his wishes to leave.”
Palva snorted. “Forget? No sooner than the moon glows green. That is all he has been thinking about! That is all he cares about! I assure you, Liyra, he will not fo
rget.”
“Well, then, we will have to hold him against his will,” Liyra said bluntly. “I believe you, Palva. If he leaves, then the prophecy will fail and we will be destroyed. What else is there to do?”
“You think he will be willing to fight for us if we have been holding him prisoner?”
Liyra was beginning to sound angry. “What do you suggest we do? We cannot let him go!”
“I don’t know. But I’m sure this kind of secrecy isn’t going to get us much further. We have to draw the line at some point, Liyra. Perhaps if we told him—”
“We are not telling him about the prophecy!” Liyra cut in, stiffening. “He knows nothing of our ways—it would be blasphemous! Besides, you know what the prophecy means. He would run away out of fear!”
“Would he?” Palva mused. “From what I’ve observed, he doesn’t seem to have the bitterness—or the intelligence—to bother with self-preservation. You’ve seen how he is about his dead pack. Perhaps a naïve little idealist is just what we need.”
“Don’t be foolish,” Liyra snapped.
“Fine then, tell me I’m foolish!” Palva said, growing angry again. “But it will do no good to keep him by force, I can say that.”
Liyra sighed and looked up. The sun was setting, its deep, red light staining the arching blades of grass above them. Palva shuddered, thinking of blood.
“You have not yet been wrong, Palva,” Liyra said, in a almost-inaudible whisper. “But this time—this prophecy—well, it is not for outsiders to know. No,” she said louder, as Palva was showing signs of interrupting. “—it isn’t. I will stand by my old orders. There will be a guard on him day and night, and his Placement will take place as soon as possible.”
“But—”
“That is my final word,” Liyra said.
She waited for Palva to think on this for a moment, before inclining her head over her shoulder towards the hollow. “Shall we return to them?” she asked. “They’re waiting.”
Fighting to swallow her frustration, Palva nodded and followed the Alpha out of the tunnel. She padded out of the grass and into the hollow, then stopped short at the sight that met her.
Tir was huddled on the ground, glowering at her and Liyra with pure venom. The fur on one side of his neck had been torn and tangled, drawing attention to a gash which was dripping blood into the grass. Simetra and Sirle, by contrast, appeared unruffled and unmarked, but stared down at Tir with disdain, and Palva could see the crimson stains of blood running through Sirle’s grey neck fur—dripping from his grinning fangs.
“Why can’t I leave?” Tir snarled.
“You wish to go so soon?” Liyra asked in a cool voice, knowing exactly what had happened while she and Palva had been in the tunnel.
“I do not want to be Placed. I want to find my pack.”
Liyra turned to look at Simetra and Sirle and nodded for them to depart.
“Did you hear me?” Tir said, his voice rising. “I want to leave! Let me leave, now.”
Turning back to Tir, Liyra’s face was stony.
“You will not be leaving,” she said. “For reasons beyond our control.”
“What reasons?”
“It is not in your place to know.”
“I would say it is! I have the right to be told why I can’t go back to my family.”
“You do not know where they are,” Liyra said, trying with a visible effort to sound calm. “They are likely dead—”
“They’re not dead!” Tir spat, channeling the fear of all his pent-up doubts into his anger. “They’re not dead, and I’m going to find them. You can’t stop me. No one can stop me. I don’t care! I don’t care! I—”
“Do you hear me?” Liyra said, over his yelling. “You are wasting your energy. You will not leave. That is final. You are being guarded—”
“I DON”T CARE! I don’t care!” Tir continued roaring, as though he had not heard Liyra speak. “You can’t guard me the rest of my life—I’ll fight my way out. I’ll fight you! All of you! I don’t care!”
“Tir,” Palva said, fighting to keep her anger with Liyra out of her voice. “You don’t understand, just listen—”
Tir whipped around, eyes flaming.
“You,” he said. “You lied! You said I could leave! I trusted you!”
“If you would listen, then I could explain it to you—”
“No! I’m finished listening to you. All of you! I’m finished with this pack, and I’m going to find my own; they need me.”
He stalked over to Palva and tried to shove past her, but she growled and knocked him back. He narrowed his eyes and drew his lips back from his fangs in an attempt at a snarl.
“Let me go,” he said.
“No.”
“Let me go, now.”
“No.”
Palva watched with steely eyes as Tir seemed to be overcome with rage. His legs stiffened and trembled as though he were fighting back the urge to spring at her; his tail was bristling and stiff.
“Let me leave or I’ll fight you. I—I’ll kill you! Do you hear me? I said I will kill you, Palva—”
“That is quite enough,” Liyra growled, forcing her way between them. “There will be no fighting here. I don’t know how problems were solved in your old pack, but you must learn to behave in a manner that is appropriate—”
Tir turned his burning glare up at the Alpha. “I’ll fight you,” he hissed.
In one swift motion, Liyra cuffed him around the head, and he glowered at the ground, still quivering with rage.
“You will stay here,” Liyra said. “And I suggest that you take some time to come to terms with my orders, as your Placement will be tomorrow.”
“I WILL NOT BE PLACED—”
“Yes, you will. This is your pack now.”
And with that, the Alpha turned and swept out of the hollow, leaving behind one of the loudest silences Palva had ever heard.