Page 55 of Blacktail

“Aren’t you…don’t you feel any…”—Blacktail reached for words in the painless fog of his mind—“any kinship to them? The other two-legs? Any bond?”

“No!” The Hider turned his head and spat into the underbrush, like he was clearing a bad taste from his mouth. “Why should I? They are not my pack anymore, if they ever were. They put me in a cage. They wanted to keep me there forever. Not just long time. Forever. My life? In a cage?” His mouth frothed with foam. “Hell for them! Hell for them all.”

Blacktail observed this small fury with some interest.

A few breaths later the Hider was calm again. “I ask my god once,” he said reflectively, “if He hates them so much, why He not devour them?”

“Oh? What did he say?”

The Hider laughed. “He say is too hard. Kill the two-legs, yes. That is easy enough. But above them is the God of Reason, who give protection and sheltering. To kill such is above even Him.”

“Hmm,” Blacktail said. “You know, you’re not the only beast I’ve heard say something like that. I will think on it.”

The Hider nodded, pleased. For the rest of the night they said little, each lost in their own thoughts.

v

The Hider left shortly after the prey had completed working the magic. He took the prey with him. Blacktail was grateful for the peace—he fell asleep as soon as he could no longer see the red eyes of Car. He slept all the next day.

Blacktail woke around sunset. He was surprised to see that the Hider had left another body for him. It was a great fat thing. Blacktail fed on it for three more days while his leg healed. He had always healed quickly. With the magic helping, he was now back to something like his normal strength. I will rest for one more day, Blacktail thought. No more. Tomorrow night I set out again.

The Hider came that night. He roared up in Car just after sundown, and pulled the wizard of healing out of Car’s hindquarters. The Hider seemed strange—more so than usual, even. Blacktail thought his wound had become infected. His smell was something like a mad opossum he met once, just before the blood fever killed it.

When they drew close, Blacktail saw that the prey had been hurt even more than before—now all its flesh was covered in little cuts and burns. Parts of it were missing that Blacktail was sure had been there last time. It can’t take much more of that and live.

But this time the Hider did not seem to need to hurt it more. He fell into the true language immediately, saying, “Lord Hunter? Lord Hunter, come out.” The prey at his feet heard the sounds of the true language and moaned.

Blacktail showed himself.

“You are walking better now,” the Hider said. “It is healing, yes?”

“I think so,” Blacktail said. “It is good that you came. I thought to leave on the next sunset.”

“You must leave, yes,” the Hider said. “Find the Forest God. Tell him what you have seen. But first I will show you.”

“Show me? What would you show me?”

“I would show you one thing, one place. It is a special to me, and there is no one else. It is a hard thing, to be always outside the pack—” He cut himself off. Blacktail thought he smelled shame.

“Yes,” Blacktail agreed, his tone gentler than was common for him. “It is hard, indeed.”

“You will come, then? It is not far.”

“Of course.”

The Hider smiled. He knelt and lifted the prey over his shoulder, wincing a little when it touched his wound. But the pain did not slow him. He led Blacktail a short run away, just over the next ridge. There was a little canyon there, perhaps caused by erosion or perhaps something else. Blacktail thought it would be invisible to all but the birds.

“What is this?” he asked.

“This is my special place,” the Hider said.

Blacktail was wary—he’s especially strange this time—but his leg was mostly healed. He felt little fear. He scrambled down the steep sides of the gully. It was colder down there than he expected. Perhaps some trick of the desert winds.

In the deepest part of the canyon there was a small hole in the wall, the mouth of a cave. The Hider set his prey down for a moment to catch his breath and mop up the wound in his shoulder. “The little ones tell that this was a great worship-place,” he said. “A temple. Long, long ago, when all this land lay beneath the sea. It was consecrated even before men fell out of the true language.” He stumbled, cutting his leg on a sharp rock.

“You see?” The Hider smiled. “This is a place of blood. When I have a prey to offer, I bring it here.” He knelt down and picked up a bleached skull. “Magic is here.” He hefted the prey and stepped inside.

The dark swallowed them.