Page 88 of Blacktail

He could feel Blacktail’s presence, an enormous bulk a little distance away. The hunter was remarkably silent even when he slept. His chest rose and fell with slow, regular breaths that were almost entirely soundless. That made what came next even more startling.

Blacktail jerked once in his sleep, his forepaws twitching as if he were trying to run. He called out then, a high, desperate sound—nothing like his normal voice—and jerked his head from side to side. Chester rolled over, alarmed. The twitches grew into a thrashing storm. Sometimes Blacktail seemed to be trying to run. Other times he struck out, fighting at something that wasn’t there. Finally he lay still, moaning, as if caught in an inescapable trap.

Chester approached him slowly, cringing with each step, each sound. “Lord Hunter?”

In his sleep, Blacktail mumbled something.

“Please, wake up,” Chester said softly. “Please.”

“…Joy-Hop…” Blacktail mumbled. Chester heard him quite clearly, though the words meant nothing to him.

“Blacktail!” Chester called out. “Lord Hunter, wake up! It’s only a dream!”

But Blacktail was beyond hearing. His thrashings were such that Chester saw no clear path to approach him, but he did not feel it was right to let the one who had saved him suffer so. Chester set his jaw and walked in between the kicking legs, then nuzzled Blacktail gently on his cheek.

The instant Chester’s nose brushed his fur, Blacktail erupted. He was on his feet quicker than a blink, quicker than lightning, quicker than anything Chester had ever seen. His jaws stretched open, a wide pit of nightmare fangs that had no bottom. The fury in his eyes shone brighter than an exploding sun. His roar rolled over the Starving Rocks like the opening of the gates of hell.

That thing is no wolf, Chester thought. I don’t know what that thing is.

Chester fell trembling in the soft sand and closed his eyes against the sight. “Please,” he begged. “Please, lord, I meant no offense. You were having a…a bad dream…and…”

“It’s all right, Chester.” Blacktail’s tone was calm, conversational. “Don’t be afraid. I’m sorry I startled you.”

Startled? Chester thought. Startled? I’ve wet myself. But after a long moment, he was able to pry one eye open. Blacktail stood there calmly. His head was cocked a little to one side, concerned.

“Are you all right?”

“I…I…Lord, you were…ah…dreaming. I think.”

“Yes, I sometimes dream,” he said. “You shouldn’t concern yourself. Anyway, you needn’t address me so. We’re friends now. I’m not your king.”

Chester studied him a long moment. He drew in a deep breath. “Very well. As you say.”

Blacktail trotted over to the creek and took a long drink, then stretched himself forward in a deep bow that crackled the bones of his back. “Ah. Much better.” He raised one leg and relieved himself against a rock. “Do you still have an appetite?” he asked as he peed.

“I could eat.”

“Good. We’ll need to do something about those bodies.”

“Do what? Eat them?”

“Yes, eat what we can, and perhaps carry away a bone or two for later. But then we’ll scatter whatever’s left. Carry the pieces far from the sight of the trail, or perhaps drop them down a hole.”

Chester looked at him doubtfully. “If you say so.”

Blacktail waited a moment. He could plainly see that Chester did not understand, but he did not ask why, or any other question. He trusts in me absolutely, Blacktail realized, more, even, than he trusts himself. The thought settled onto him like a physical weight. I must be careful that they do not trust in vain. He blinked. They? Who is “they”? Then a notion so small it was barely there rose to him from somewhere deep.

Joy-Hop

What? What was that? He strained, but whatever it was—a thought? a memory?—was gone. He shook this away and turned back to Chester. “I know it all sounds strange. I thought so, too, the first time I heard it. But it’s not madness. It’s craft.”

Chester furrowed his brow. “I, ah…don’t follow?”

“Men claim all lands as their own, no? Even these forsaken rocks?”

“Yes…”

“So. Perhaps the ones we ate were on a mission? Perhaps they have mates? They might be missed. If they are simply gone…well, that’s one thing. But if their remains are found, maybe carried back to some pack lord, that’s another thing altogether. The two-legs have an appetite for vengeance,” Blacktail said. “If we anger them, they will swarm these lands like wasps. More of them than you can count. If it comes to that, they’ll kill everything in their path.”