Trail of Bones: A Young Adult Fantasy Novel (10 page)

“A fake? A fraud? They have no idea,” he said as he sat up and dusted himself off. “He may know that conjuration spell, but so what! The next time he sees my magic, he’ll run in fear. They all will.”

The Storm Elf was caught up in a tornado frustration, humiliation, and desperation. One thought bounced through his mind. He had barely made note of it when the king had uttered it, but now the words echoed through his brain.

“This may work on barbarians of the Northlands...but I assure you foolish Elf, they will gain you no favor in my realm!
…
This may work on barbarians of the Northlands…
but I assure you foolish Elf… This may work on barbarians of the Northlands!”

Korwin grinned as he remembered relieving himself while flying above the king’s throne.

CHAPTER 8

Mid-Spring

The Mythik Forest

Magnus darted among the trees, careful not to make too much noise as his paws hit the forest dirt. Nimble enough to avoid logs and rocks in spite of his growing size, the cub found his thoughts wandering to the day of the barbarian boy’s visit. He wasn’t sure why, but he liked the human. There was a kindness in the young boy’s eyes and in his voice.

With a jolt, the Shade Wolf halted. He paused a moment before raising his snout up to catch the scent traveling on the breeze. In spite of a wolf’s tremendous sense of smell, processing the information took time and patience to master. Magnus inhaled a deep breath to analyze the variety of smells hitting his nose.

Thatcher rabbits, a few elk, and what’s that other scent? Yes, a spike boar passed by here not long ago. Oh… and Dain, Asher and Portia are following, too,
he thought as he took in another breath.

Magnus then put his snout to the ground and followed the trail of the spike boar. It was a clumsy creature and gave off a nasty odor; closing in on it was just a matter of time. He weaved his way through the forest, crept over a large fallen tree, and ducked under the branches of thorn bushes.

The young wolf was mindful of the direction of the wind, the sounds, and even the trees.
Just as father would do,
he thought. His ears perked up as he caught the unmistakable whine and squeals of a spike boar piglet.

I hope I would not be as easy to corner as this boar. He’s making this far too easy,
thought Magnus as he crouched down low to zero in on the high pitched whines from the next ridge.

As he crested the berm his nose caught a recognizable scent. His older brother, Dain, emerged from the underbrush, crashing through without any caution or stealth.

“Shhh,” hushed Magnus as he crept toward a small hollow tucked between two large stumps. He pointed with his nose at the fern bush just ahead, its branches wiggling.

“There.”

A moment later, Portia and Asher trotted in behind Dain. Magnus was irritated at their noisy and unnecessary presence.

You’re welcome,
he thought.
I did all the tracking, and now you want to take my meal?

“Asher, take the low ground. I’ll push him to you,” Magnus said.

His silver-coated brother looked back and snorted. “I don’t have to listen to you, Magnus.”

“That’s right,” said Portia with her usual insolence. “You had your turn, runt.”

Magnus hated that word. He was as big as Asher and taller than Portia. Granted, Dain was the biggest of the young wolves, and the first born, but Magnus could hold his own. Still, his siblings frequently used the word runt because of his status as the litter’s last-born.

Dain watched as the leaves on the bush moved again, followed by more grunts from whatever hid in the foliage.

“What are you waiting for? Get it!” Dain ordered.

He leapt in first, followed by Asher and Portia. Magnus, however, sat to watch the events unfold.

With a squeal, a spike boar piglet sprang from the thick fern. Dain’s head emerged next, his jaws snapping at the fleeing prey. In wide-eyed terror, the boar escaped to the low ground and then through the small hollow.

Dain, Asher, and Portia briefly pursued, but the wolves had lost their prey, and their effort was pointless. Magnus, however, just sat and said nothing as his siblings approached.

“You let him get away, Magnus!” Dain chided. “Why didn’t you do something? We could have had him!”

“He asked you a question, Magnus. Why didn’t you attack?” another voice asked.

The young wolves looked up, and there was Ataris, standing majestically on the fallen log and listening to the pups’ accusations.

Magnus, realizing he was in the presence of his father, lowered his head in submission and respect. Dain and the other wolves did the same, though none bowed as low as Magnus.

“I’m sorry, Father. Don’t be angry with Dain. It was my fault the boar got away,” said the youngest wolf.

Dain and the others raised their heads and trotted over to Ataris.

“You should know your place, Magnus. Remember, you’re the youngest and you always will be,” said Dain as he passed his younger brother.

Ataris was not pleased with any of the remarks. “And you should know yours,” he said, turning to Dain. The pup cowered as his father continued the reprimand. “You all failed. That catch could have fed the mouths of our pack. Some will go hungry because you did not remember the lessons I taught you.”

Dain stood. “But I did, Father. I tracked the boar just as I’ve seen you do many times. Asher and Portia did as I told them, but not Magnus. He just sat there.”

“Quiet! I’ve been following you since you left Thornmount. You did not track the boar, Magnus did,” said Ataris, and Dain again lowered his head. “The best you could do was to track your own brother.” The alpha wolf lay on the log and exhaled.

The pups did the same, lying down as they listened to their father and leader.

“Do you know why the Shade Wolves rule the Mythik Forest?” he asked his offspring.

They all thought a moment. Asher answered first. “Because the gods will it.”

Ataris shook his head. “There are many creatures and beasts that live in this forest, some bigger, some faster. Why then would the gods choose us? No, there must be another reason.”

Portia looked at her father. “Because we are smarter!”

Dain agreed, and then laughed. “Yes, especially compared to the Ghast Gorilla! Dumb apes.”

The pack leader shook his head again. “Careful, my son. The Ghast are a fearsome foe. Their strength is far beyond ours. Should they return to the Mythik Forest I hope you will use your wits and fight better than your actions of this day.”

The wolf pups were confused.

“If the Ghast are stronger, then how did we drive them from the forest?” asked Magnus.

“Ah,” said Ataris. He sat up to make sure he clearly communicated his point. “True, the Ghast are stronger, but the reason they were defeated is the same reason you failed today. They are selfish; they fight only for themselves. They do not understand the strength of the pack like we do.”

The pups circled in closer to their father, intent on every word. Magnus, however, was at the rear, trying to get closer but unable because of his brothers and sister.

“Alone a Ghast is formidable, but vulnerable. As are we. But together, using our strength, our cunning, and the talents the gods blessed us with for one purpose… we cannot be broken. That is how the Ghast were defeated. Because the pack stood united, running with purpose, fighting for all. This is the most important lesson you can learn.”

The young wolves lie silent as they contemplated what their father had taught.

“Now go; return to the cave. When your stomachs ache in pain tonight, remember my words.” The pups stood and trotted up the ridge, but Ataris stopped Magnus as the others continued.

The proud wolf looked down on his son. “Why did you take the blame for your brother, Magnus? We both know Dain acted foolishly.”

Magnus hesitated. He did not want to answer. “Perhaps, but I still should have helped. I wanted him to fail, I guess.”

“And do you feel better?” asked Ataris.

“No. I feel hungry, Father.”

The alpha wolf laughed. “A painful lesson, but one worth remembering.”

He moved over closer to his son. “I was watching. You remained upwind; you stalked without noise; and you cornered your prey as I would have done. If your brothers and sister had listened, they would be enjoying a meal because of you, Magnus.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“But tell me, Son, if you really wanted Dain to fail, why did you take responsibility for his failure?”

Magnus bowed his head again. “I am the youngest. Dain will be the leader of the pack one day. If I defy him, I defy the pack. He was right. I should remember my place. It is the way of things.”

Ataris sighed. “Magnus, you are wise beyond your years. You see what others do not understand. It is a great quality you possess, a remarkable gift. Dain is bold and courageous, but he will need you in the seasons to come. He will need your loyalty, your wisdom, and strength of heart. Of that I am certain.”

The wolf nuzzled his son with his large snout. “Come, let us go home. Enough lessons for this afternoon.”

****

On the banks of the Halmar River

Near the Western Edge of the Great Southern Forest

“I hate these stupid cats,” mumbled Dox as he walked through the tent. The large beast-man looked tired with large bags under his brown eyes. Even his long ears drooped, and his tail barely moved. “Always hungry, always growling.”

It was the middle of the day, and the heat from the sun penetrated through the canvas tent creating a sweltering oven. His race was hardy, and extreme temperatures of either hot or cold rarely bothered him, but being so far south on the continent in proximity of the Ocean of Tears increased the humidity to unbearable levels. Sweat beaded on his forehead and streamed down the sides of his long face.

Dox chopped the corgan meat, cleaving it into smaller pieces, much smaller pieces. Opening the cage door to throw the panthers their meals was no longer a safe, and his scars proved it. Sliding small portions through the steel bars was a better option.

“I don’t like it so small,” Keon had complained. “I like to pretend I just caught a Krape Lord, and he’s fighting back.” He enjoyed telling stories about creatures his mother had described to him.

“No fun. Boring,” said Kai, responding to his brother’s rants. Then he resumed his favorite pastime, chewing the metal bars.

Keon had swatted at Dox a few times when he was inside the cage, but it was Kelor that posed the greatest threat to the caretaker. The day the Cordale soldiers arrived was just the first in a series of confrontations between Dox and Kelor. Most wounds to his forearm had healed, but the panther had added new lacerations to the Minotaur’s hide.

In the beginning, Dox had made a game of it, a way to keep him sharp, his combat skills fresh. But each day the cat grew stronger and quicker. Kelor was also cunning, and he used different tactics to unleash attacks on the wary beast-man. He feigned being asleep, a trick Dox only fell for once. He hid under his mother’s haunches and successfully surprised the Minotaur. He even tricked Dox into thinking he was Keon by mimicking his brother’s voice and antics.

The Warden had given Dox strict instructions that he was not allowed to hurt the prized panther. All the he could do was fend off the attack and escape with his life, if he was lucky. Dox hated being so limited and always on the defensive. Minotaur’s preferred open battle in large spaces. Ducking, hiding, and reacting quickly were not his race’s strengths.

You may have the advantage now, Kelor, but meet me in the arena, where I can see you coming, and you’ll wish you were back in the safety of your cage,
he thought with a smile. In fact, it was the only thought that gave him any kind of comfort. To release his frustrations by ending the panther’s life in the arena was his favorite reverie.
Then I will prove myself worthy, and the Warden will keep his promise to repair my horn. Then I can return to my herd, where I belong. Then…

A sound interrupted Dox’s thinking. He looked around the tent but failed to notice anything out of the ordinary, so he returned to his task. He hated listening to the cats eat, all the slurping and growling. But it was safer now, sliding the smaller chunks into the cage and feeding the cats when the sun was at its highest. That’s when the panthers either slept or lay about and were less interested in starting a fight.

Clank! There it was again, a noise the Minotaur could not identify. He searched again until he spotted the culprit. The lock on the panther cage was missing and the door banged against the metal clasp as it swung shut.

The beast-man froze, only his heart pounded. He peered into the cage. The mother still lay asleep on her side. Dox spotted the white socks of Kai, curled up just a pace or so away from the female. He crept closer to get a better angle.