The Rise of the Fire Moon
***
Alanki awoke with a start. Ears pricked and fur bristling, she glanced out from the moss-shaded entrance of the abandoned badger set in which she had been sleeping. She had found the set not long ago, and had taken to sleeping in it once the packwolves had begun hunting her. The scent of badger was long ingrained into the stone and soil, and it would mask her own scent from the packwolves—it would not do for her to be killed in her sleep.
But at the moment, any form of sleep was impossible. Howls and snarls had shattered the still air of the forest, and Alanki could hear the thundering of running paws shaking through the earth surrounding her. Many running paws. Too many.
The furious sounds were growing louder, and Alanki leaned out over the low lip of the den to watch. They streamed past through the trees, snapping their fangs and howling their hunting cries—and too many wolves for Alanki to count. Alanki’s stomach lurched and she withdrew her head back to the safe shelter of the earthy cave. Had they brought the entire pack with them?
The wolves dashed past, oblivious to the white she-wolf that was crouched behind the thick shelter of overgrown moss. Alanki flattened herself against the cool wall of earth behind her until they had passed, their howling cries fading into the forest’s darkness. For the first time, she felt almost afraid.
You can’t run forever… Redshank’s words echoed in her mind. They’ll catch you someday. Had he known? Had he known then that this would happen? Alanki shuddered, digging her claws into the dirt. Perhaps he was right. Maybe it would all end tonight; there were too many of them. But what would happen to the deer?
Alanki gave a sudden, sharp quiver of anger. If she was going to die on this night, then she may as well die fighting. Never, ever would she be caught hiding like a frightened pup. What she told the deer—had that been nothing more than brave words? Alanki growled deep in her throat. No doubt, the packwolves intended to finish things tonight. But they did not know that they had given Alanki a chance to do the same—they had brought their alpha.
This was the chance she had never dared to hope for. She would cut off the head of the snake and watch the rest writhe away into nothing. It was simple.
Without making a sound, Alanki slipped out of the den. She glanced around, sniffing the still air. The forest was as dark as ever, and the cries and snarls of the wolf pack had grown thin and distant. Growling under her breath, Alanki dashed off in the direction of the howls.
One of the howls stood out from the mingled wails of the others. There was no doubt in Alanki’s mind that this howl—a powerful cry of mixed anger, sorrow, leadership, and bloodlust—belonged to the alpha. But as Alanki pricked her ears and listened closer, she detected a faint, almost hidden emotion that Alanki did not understand…guilt? And maybe, just maybe—Alanki smiled—a tinge of fear.
She quickly caught up to the furious hunting pack, weaving in and out amongst the shadows as a flickering flash of white, gone before any wolf could look twice. Trees that appeared as tall, forbidding, dark towers to the pack wolves were to Alanki like old friends—sharing her hatred and hostility towards these blundering intruders. They loomed overhead, stretching up to the sky with their spiky, black branches—leafless in the coming of winter. Alanki moved around the clustered trunks, ducking into shadows and watching with cold green eyes.
She had to kill the alpha. The alpha was to blame for all of this; and it had been proven when that brown wolf had come to her on his own will. The others were obeying the alpha, and it could be that not all of them agreed with what was happening. She wondered how many wolves had heard her story—obviously, the alpha had not believed. Prey. Did she still think this was about prey?
Alanki followed the pack as they streamed out through winter-ravaged clearings, still howling like the wind. They dashed through the dark forest, stopping every now and then to sniff the ground for a trace of her scent. Howling, running snarling—they were a sea of fur and fangs that swept through the forest, leaving a path of destruction in its wake. Alanki followed, always close behind, feeling the fragments of tree branches and torn undergrowth beneath her paws.
The wolf at the head of the pack was a large, silver she-wolf with a scarred muzzle and dark, gold-flecked eyes. The alpha. Alanki hissed under her breath and watched the she-wolf with hatred burning in her eyes. If she were quick, she could dash in and dash out without the others catching her. At this point, it was the only solution she could think of.
Alanki deliberately cracked a twig under her paw, and the pack wolves came to a halt. They silenced, wary eyes scanning the destroyed undergrowth. Alanki crept in a slow circle around the pack until she was crouched in the shadow of a tree just to the left of the alpha, downwind. She could hear the silver wolf breathing in short, quick gasps.
There was no time for hesitation. Alanki sprang from the undergrowth and onto the bristling back of the alpha wolf. Dead leaves flew up into the air, coming down in a rustling shower. The impact caused her to roll over, and for a moment the two tussled on the ground. Alanki growled deep in her throat, attempting to crush the alpha beneath her shoulder blades as she strove for the wolf’s neck. But to her frustration, the alpha was not as easy to subdue as she had imagined her to be. She snarled, shoving the alpha’s face down into the dirt in an attempt to muffle the noise. But, writhing like a snake, the wolf heaved Alanki off her back and onto the ground.
By now, the rest of the pack had realized what was going on and abandoned their fearful search. In a sudden eruption of snarling, they flew at Alanki with snapping fangs and snarling tongues, ready to protect their alpha. One of them, a dusty blue-grey male, managed to clamp his jaws into Alanki’s left hind leg. Pain shot up her leg like white-hot knives as the wolf dug his fangs deeper into her flesh. He tore to the side, and blood welled up from the ragged flesh. She swiped at his head with a lightning paw and slipped out of his grasp. Hissing with fury, Alanki leapt off the silver alpha and sped off into the undergrowth with the pack wolves thundering behind her.
The blood was pounding in her ears; her leg was shooting jolts of pain through her body. But Alanki ran for her life, furious with herself for losing her only chance to dispose of the alpha. The chance was not going to come again, as the pack would never leave their alpha the slightest bit under-protected now. She should have planned. She should have thought! But her anger was still a toothed and burning presence inside of her, and even now it was telling her: Turn around, take them all, scatter them, devour them—
She was running as fast as her long legs would carry her, dodging trees and tearing through undergrowth, thorns snagging her white pelt. She was much faster than the pack wolves, and she knew the forest better; but the bite on her leg given to her by that grey packwolf was slowing her down, and she was beginning to drag. How could I have been such an idiot? Anger had made her reckless.
The alpha released another hunting howl, and the pack echoed her cry with an excited fervor. Alanki lowered her head and ran faster, twigs whipping her face. The ground beneath her paws was rumbling with a tremor like thunder. She limped as fast as she could towards the river, where she may have a chance if she could cross it before the pack.
The pack was just behind her, a crashing mass through the forest. Alanki could hear their fangs snapping and short, excited breaths. You can’t run forever.
But this was her forest! They couldn’t catch her. What about Delphinium and Eyebright? What about Eryngo?
Alanki’s chest was searing with pain in every gasping breath. Black mist was rising before her vision, and she could not see where she was going. The deafening thunder of the wolf pack behind her mingled with the pounding of blood in her ears, like a malevolent drum striking in her head. She was falling, falling…
But there it was—the placid trickle of running water, so out-of-place in the dark, frantic atmosphere. It was somewhere close ahead; Alanki could almost smell it in the cold air. The river. She was almost there.
Alanki flattened her ears and shot forwar
d, the wind screaming past her like the hunting howls of the pack. She was running on three legs, her bitten one dragging behind her and thumping over rocks and tree roots. If only she could cross the river, she might be able to escape. Alanki was used to swimming, and the wolf pack probably was not. It would slow them down enough for her to disappear once again—
She ran straight into the rushing water. The river was icy cold, a few thin sheets of ice floating along the banks. Frigid water knifed through her fur, plastering it close to her body. Droplets flew up into her face, clinging to her fur and freezing in the cold wind. Numbing, cold water was flooding into her mouth and stinging her eyes.
Alanki shook away the drops and spat, heart thumping as she swam away from the banks. The ground had disappeared from beneath her working paws and she slipped, sinking down into icy nothingness. Alanki gasped and pumped her legs harder, dragging herself back up towards the surface, sneezing and choking on the blast of sudden wind. Her head was spinning, and the cold seemed to be leeching energy out of her tired limbs, sucking at her weary paws and pulling her under. But Alanki strained, moving her legs through the river, pushing hard towards the other side—
Her paws hit solid pebbles before she knew it. Alanki dragged herself up onto the soil, gasping and panting as cold air seared down through her frozen lungs. She shook her white pelt, which was heavy and icy with river water. Turning, she could see the wolf pack on the opposite banks, hesitating at the swift-moving frosty river.
Shaking, Alanki whipped around and ran, just as the pack began to crash their way through the river, the water roiling around their paws.
This side of the forest was almost pitch black. The trees were clustered even closer together and there was not a moving thing in sight. A fierce orange moon and snowflake stars glittered coldly down at her from the sky like hundreds of searching eyes. Redshank had been right after all, then. The moon was flame-tinted. Alanki gave a swift shudder and dashed on. She had to hide; the pack would be coming soon,
There was a shadowy hollow just beyond a row of dark pines. Still heaving for breath, Alanki crept around the close trunks; their rough bark scratched at her pelt as she passed. She cursed the trees. The pack would be able to catch her scent on their bark and follow her trail.
But the ground in the hollow was soft and peaty. They would never be able to track her on a kind of surface like that. Alanki slipped into the darkness, her white pelt barely visible as she ducked into a crevice between a boulder and a juniper bush.
As angry as Alanki was at the pack and their alpha, a part of her was still seething at herself. How could she have let them find her? How could she have been so stupid? If only she had just stayed in her tree, she never would have been in such trouble as this. If only she had stayed out of sight, not pounced into their midst like she had—what had made her so reckless? Anger?
The howling and rumbling of running paws began again, and Alanki knew that the pack had crossed the river. She pressed herself closer against the boulder, her mud-streaked pelt blending in with the dark grey stone. All Alanki now wanted was to make it through the night—she would form another plan in the light of dawn.
“She’s been here!” a voice called from outside the hollow. “See—look, her scent’s on this tree.”
“Move aside,” a rougher voice said. “I’m going to be the one to kill her.”
“You think?” jeered another voice, as though this were all a game. “I rather believe it should be I, you know. Because your shadow once told me—”
“Shut up, Kesol,” another voice snarled. “You’re not a Sentinel. You shouldn’t even be here.”
Alanki listened to them with half a mind. In any normal situation, she would be interpreting the tone of each voice, picking out intentions and emotions in order to find a weakness. But then, in any normal situation, she would be somewhere far, far away by now. What was wrong with her tonight?
There was a crashing, thudding in the hollow, and Alanki twitched, knowing that the pack had moved in. They were not howling anymore; they had silenced. Were they afraid?
“It’s peat!” cursed a voice from somewhere nearby. “Her scent is gone—but she’s been here, I know she has.”
“She’s probably watching us, right now. Hidden in the bushes, waiting to spring.”
“Be quiet, you can’t scare me,” someone snapped. “We’re more than a match for her. But—but perhaps we should check the bushes, just for caution’s sake.”
“Good idea.”
Alanki breathed in sharply. She closed her eyes, willing that they would miss her.
“Wait a moment,” a tense voice said, very close to where Alanki was hidden. “Alpha Liyra! Come here! Her scent is strong on this boulder, right here! Do you think she might—”
The wolf’s voice ended with a yelp as Alanki sprang from her hiding place and dashed off into the shadows. Within seconds, the entire pack was back on her trail, snarling and howling as they dashed after her flying paws.
This is it, this is it—they’re going to catch me. Every breath was an explosion of pain in Alanki’s chest, and her injured leg bumped behind her like a useless, dead log. She had promised; she had promised that they would never find her, never even see her. But this was too much; there was no way she could escape.
Keep running, keep running…
They were close behind her. She could feel their hot breaths on her fur, and a set of fangs snapped at her whipping tail. Alanki tried desperately to form some sort of a plan, some form of escape—but nothing came to her but cold, blind panic. What was wrong with her? She must be losing herself.
Keep running…keep running…
Alanki couldn’t breathe. Air rushed by her face, stinging her eyes and biting her fur—but she couldn’t breathe at all. Her legs felt like heavy, dull weights, throbbing as she urged them to go on, never stop, not give up, run until the end of eternity—
Keep…running…
No. She couldn’t.
Alanki came to a ragged, skidding halt, her head hanging as she gasped for breath that would not come. Her legs buckled beneath her and she collapsed, shuddering in a muddy heap on the cold ground. The bitter, metallic taste of blood was heavy in her mouth and red in the froth around her muzzle. She was dizzy; tired…There was nothing left to do. No more hiding places, no more energy, no more chances, no more time. The deer had been right. At least she would die for something.
The running paws behind her came to a halt. Alanki looked up, seeing the pack gathered around her. Hundreds of eyes and fangs gleamed in the darkness, soft snarls issuing from bared jaws. They circled around her, as if she were prey. Mocking her.
Alanki knew she was going to die. But, buried beneath her fatigue and pain, there was still a rushing in her bones, a fierce blue light before her blackening vision. The Lankhi does not reach an end. The Lankhi, the deer had always told her, spanned the entire earth; the Lankhi was a terrible, weariless ribbon that drowned the fools who underestimated its depth and carried the dead leaves when they fell. It would not allow her to be killed lying on the ground, drained and exhausted beneath her enemies like a deer that had been worn past its limits in a hunt. She was not a deer.
Alanki rose to her paws, determined to fight until her legs were forcibly torn out from beneath her.
She drew up the coldness of the river water in her throat and snarled at them, her torn, muddied fur bristling. And to her surprise, she could see a faint glimmer of fear in the eyes of a few wolves nearest to her. Even now, in her beaten state, they were afraid of her.
“Come along, then,” she snarled, side heaving for air. “Come now and kill me. Does it take all of you just to catch me? I hope you are proud of yourselves. So kill me. Now.”
Without hesitation, an empty-eyed white wolf growled and flung himself at her, fangs bared wide and snapping the air. She shot up to meet him and lashed out with a clawed paw, catching him on the side of his head and twisting away so that his snapped around empty space.
He swung around on the spot and barreled into her, knocking the air out of her weary lungs. But she rolled with the impact and kicked upwards with her hind legs, sending him spinning away and crashing against the nearest tree.
Snarls erupted from the pack, and they began to circle closer. Alanki growled, but she was tired. She knew she could not last long if they chose to come at her all at once. But her legs were stiff and burning with a wild, shivering energy, and they would not let her collapse.
“Come now,” she taunted again, gasping. Her head hung limply, nose near the ground—but she glared up at them through hazy, bloodshot eyes. “That is—that’s it? ‘Tis over? Shall you kill me or not?”
But this time, there was no sudden, angry outburst. The entire pack was silenced, motionless. Something flared in their eyes—the exact same instinctive light that Alanki had seen flashing in the eyes of Delphinium and Redshank just a few days ago, when they had caught a scent that frightened them.
“Frightened?” Alanki hissed, raising her head. “You are frightened now, you filthy cowards?”
And then, to her complete bewilderment, the entire pack turned tail and dashed away. Even the white wolf at the base of the tree picked himself up from the ground and ran with his ears flat against his skull, as though running for his life. The pack ran like the herd of deer with the hunter snapping at their heels, terror and panic wild in the air. They disappeared, vanishing into the darkness of the forest.
For a moment, Alanki was confused. Surely she had not scared them that much? There was only one of her, and they had their entire pack! Why had they run?
Nevertheless, Alanki lifted her head to the cold black sky and howled, throwing her weariness, fear, and triumph into the heavens to taunt the retreating backs of the wolves. She howled longer than she had ever howled before—crying for the deer, her ravaged forest, and her close escape, throwing defiance up to the angry fire moon above. It was the most eerie and unearthly of sounds, and caused the fleeing wolf pack to run faster still.
But then, with a sudden rush, Alanki realized why they had run, and her howl was cut off with a stunned choke. She had caught a scent on a weak breeze blowing towards her, a scent she had not noticed a few moments before. It was a scent that caused the fur along her back to bristle and sent prickles running up and down her spine.
Impossible.
And from the shadowed woods behind her echoed another howl, answering her own.