Absolutely,’ the wizard said, prodding at the meat on the spit. ‘My point was, the wolf is the caribou until necessity forces otherwise. If the odds are too bad, the wolf runs. It’s a matter of timing, of choosing the right moment to turn round and hold your ground. As for those wolves tracking us, well, I’d guess they’ve never seen our kind before-’ ‘No, Quick Ben,’ Onrack said. ‘The very opposite is true.’
Trull studied his friend for a moment, then asked, ‘We’re not alone here?’
‘The ay knew to follow us. Yes, they are curious, but they are also clever, and they remember. They have followed Imass before.’ He lifted his head and sniffed loudly. ‘They are close tonight, those ay. Drawn to my song, which they have heard before. The ay know, you see, that tomorrow 1 will hunt dangerous prey. And when the moment of the kill comes, well, we shall see.’
‘Just how dangerous?’ Trull asked, suddenly uneasy.
‘There is a hunting cat, an emlava-we entered its territory today, for I found the scrapes of its claim, on stone and on wood. A male by the flavour of its piss. Today, the ay were more nervous than usual, for the cat will kill them at every opportunity, and it is a creature of ambush. But I have assured them with my song. I found Tog’tol- yellow ochre-after all.’
‘So,’ Quick Ben said, his eyes on the dripping meat above the flames, ‘if your wolves know we are here, how about the cat?’
‘He knows.’
‘Well, that’s just terrific, Onrack. I’m going to need some warrens close to hand all damned day, then. That happens to be exhausting, you know.’
‘You need not worry with the sun overhead, wizard,’ Onrack said. ‘The cat hunts at night.’
‘Hood’s breath! Let’s hope those wolves smell it before we do!’
‘They won’t,’ the Imass replied with infuriating calm. ‘In scenting its territory, the emlava saturates the air with its sign. Its own body scent is much weaker, freeing the beast to move wherever it will when inside its territory.’
‘Why are dumb brutes so damned smart, anyway?’
‘Why are us smart folk so often stupidly brutal, Quick Ben?’ Trull asked.
‘Stop trying to confuse me in my state of animal terror, Edur.’
An uneventful night passed and now, the following day, they walked yet further into the territory of the emlava. Halting at a stream in mid-morning, Onrack had knelt beside it to begin his ritual washing of hands. At least, Trull assumed it was a ritual, although it might well have been another of those moments of breathless wonder that seemed to afflict Onrack-and no surprise there; Trull suspected he’d be staggering about for months after such a rebirth. Of course, he does not think like us. 1 am much closer in my ways of thought to this human, Quick Ben, than 1 am to any Imass, dead or otherwise. How can that be?
Onrack then rose and faced them, his spear in one hand, sword in the other. ‘We are near the emlava’s lair. Although he sleeps, he senses us. Tonight, he means to kill one of us. I shall now challenge his claim to this territory. If I fail, he may well leave you be, for he will feed on my flesh.’
But Quick Ben was shaking his head. ‘You’re not doing this alone, Onrack. Granted, I’m not entirely sure of how my sorcery will work in this place, but dammit, it’s just a dumb cat, after all. A blinding flash of light, a loud sound-’
‘And I will join you as well,’ Trull Sengar said. ‘We begin with spears, yes? I have fought enough wolves in my time. We will meet its charge with spears. Then, when it is wounded and crippled, we close with bladed weapons.’
Onrack studied them for a moment, then he smiled. ‘I see that I will not dissuade you. Yet, for the fight itself, you must not interfere. I do not think I will fail, and you will see why before long.’
Trull and the wizard followed the Imass up the slope of an outwash fan that filled most of a crevasse, up among the lichen-clad, tilted and folded bedrock. Beyond this black-stone ledge rose a sheer wall of grey shale pocked with caves where sediments had eroded away beneath an endless torrent of glacial melt. The stream in which Onrack had plunged his hands earlier poured out from this cliff, forming a pool in one cavern that extended out to fill a basin before continuing downslope. To the right of this was another cave, triangular in shape, with one entire side formed by a collapse in the shale overburden. The flat ground before it was scattered with splintered bones.
As they skirted the pool Onrack suddenly halted, lifting a hand.
A massive shape now filled the cave mouth.
Three heartbeats later, the emlava emerged.
‘Hood’s breath,’ Quick Ben whispered.
Trull had expected a hunting cat little different from,a mountain lion-perhaps one of the black ones rumoured to live in the deeper forests of his homeland. The creature hulking into view, blinking sleep from its charcoal eyes, was the size of a plains brown bear. Its enormous upper canines projected down past its lower jaw, long as a huntsman’s knife and polished the hue of amber. The head was broad and flat, the ears small and set far back. Behind the short neck, the emlava’s shoulders were hunched, forming a kind of muscled hump. Its fur was striped, black barbs on deep grey, although its throat revealed a flash of white.
‘Not quite built for speed, is it?’
Trull glanced over at Quick Ben, saw the wizard holding a dagger in one hand. ‘We should get you a spear,’ the Tiste Edur said.
‘I’ll take one of your spares-if you don’t mind.’
Trull slipped the bound clutch from his shoulder and said, ‘Take your pick.’
The emlava was studying them. Then it yawned and with that Onrack moved lightly forward in a half- crouch.
As he did so, pebbles scattered nearby and Trull turned. ‘Well, it seems Onrack has allies in this after all.’
The wolves-ay in the Imass language-had appeared and were now closing on Onrack’s position, heads lowered and eyes fixed on the huge cat.
The sudden arrival of seven wolves clearly displeased the emlava, for it then lowered itself until its chest brushed the ground, gathering its legs beneath it. The mouth opened again, and a deep hiss filled the air.
‘We might as well get out of their way,’ Quick Ben said, taking a step back with obvious relief.
‘I wonder,’ Trull said as he watched the momentary stand-off, ‘if this is how domestication first began. Not banding together in a hunt for prey, but in an elimination of rival predators.’
Onrack had readied his spear, not to meet a charge, but to throw the weapon using a stone-weighted antler atlatl. The wolves to his either side had fanned out, edging closer with fangs bared.
‘Not a growl to be heard,’ Quick Ben said. ‘Somehow that’s more chilling.’
‘Growls are to warn,’ Trull replied. ‘There is fear in growls, just as there is in that cat’s hissing.’
The emlava’s single lungful of breath finally whistled down into silence. It refilled its lungs and began again.
Onrack lunged forward, the spear darting from his hand.
Flinching back, the emlava screamed as the weapon drove deep into its chest, just to one side of the neck and beneath the clavicle. At that moment the wolves rushed in.
A mortal wound, however, was not enough to slow the cat as it lashed out with two staggered swings of its forepaws at one of the wolves. The first paw sank talons deep into the wolf’s shoulder, snatching the entire animal closer, within the reach of the second paw, which dragged the yelping wolf closer still. The massive head then snapped down on its neck, fangs burying themselves in flesh and bone.
The emlava, lurching, then drove its full weight down on the dying wolf, probably breaking every bone in its body.
As it did so, four other wolves lunged for its soft belly, two to each side, their canines tearing deep, then pulling away as, screaming, the emlava spun round to fend them off.
Exposing its neck.
Onrack’s sword flashed, point-first, into the cat’s throat.
It recoiled, sending one wolf tumbling, then reared back on its hind legs-as if to wheel and flee back into its cave-but all strength left the emlava then. It toppled, thumped hard onto the ground, and was still.
The six remaining wolves-one limping-padded away, keeping a distance between themselves and the three
