Strom stood, rooted to the spot, hands still gripping his sword. The huge Wolfen shuddered and shook, his teeth chattering. The smell of burning fur and flesh filled the night air.
Some type of venom, Sorenson thought, and dived at his elder brother, pushing him away from the beast. Pulled free at the same time, the sword slipped from Strom’s hands and clattered to the ground, and the beast bobbed up and floated away, leaving them once again in the silence and darkness.
‘What was that?!’ Arn crawled from the bushes where he had been thrown, and looked around warily. Strom lay on the ground, with the other Wolfen kneeling beside him. ‘Was it a jormungandr?’
Sorenson shook his head. ‘They don’t come this far out of the caves. I’ve never seen, or have ever been told of any beast like that one.’ He put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. ‘It attacked Strom, and has poisoned him.’
Arn looked at the giant Wolfen’s burned hands, and sniffed. Weird, he thought. It reminded him of when old Mrs. Heming’s Siamese cat chewed through the television cables.
Sorenson cradled his brother in his arms, and poured some water across his lips. Strom spluttered.
‘Is it dead?’ He spoke weakly, without opening his eyes.
Sorenson nodded. ‘Or soon will be. You split its skull.’
Strom sat up with his brother’s help. Arn could tell he was in a lot of pain. The giant Wolfen looked at his blistered hands, and shook his head. ‘In a few hours, they’ll be swollen, raw and useless.’ His ears twitched and he sniffed the air. ‘They’re coming. Get me to my feet.’
Sorenson and Arn helped him to stand, while Eilif pulled a small leather pouch from her belt. Inside was a paste, which she rubbed on his cracked and blistered hands. Feninlang, Arn hoped.
Strom flexed the fingers, and nodded his thanks. He then dipped a finger in the paste and rubbed it onto his teeth, closing his mouth to work it around with his tongue. He shut his eyes for a few moments and breathed, seeming to swell with energy.
At last, he disengaged himself from Arn and Sorenson, and then stood swaying slightly in the dark. ‘They’re coming… and you must go now. The feninlang will give me energy for another hour; after that…’
Sorenson grabbed his brother’s arm. ‘Run for that hour, then the Man-kind and I will carry you.’
Strom slowly shook his head. ‘And Grimson? My brother, you must get back and tell them of the Panterran camp, of their war beasts, and of Mogahr being so close to our kingdom. Get your charges to safety. I will only slow you down, and then we will all die.’ He looked across Eilif, Grimson and Arn, and then back into Sorenson’s eyes. ‘And some more quickly than others.’ His meaning was clear — death was not the worst thing that could befall you at the hands of the Panterran.
They all knew the giant warrior was right. Sorenson cursed and banged his fist against Strom’s chest, then buried his face there for a few seconds, until Strom pushed him gently backwards.
‘Go, brother.’
Sorenson gazed sadly up into the large face, and placed his hand on the crest of the wolf on Strom’s chest. ‘My strength to you, my brother.’
Strom nodded. ‘And my speed to you, beloved brother.’
Sorenson turned away, and called to the others to follow him. Eilif looked up at Strom and placed her hand against the mark of the red-eyed silver wolf on her chest — the royal house crest.
‘You were our finest champion, Strom.’
Sorenson called to her again, and she turned on her heels and followed, leaving the giant figure alone in the dark.
Chapter 32
Please Tell Me You Got that?
‘Something coming at us fast — biological — go to strobe, sir?’
The room fell silent as the technicians pressed buttons and shifted joysticks to keep the camera hovering in the darkness.
Harper folded his arms and tried to remain calm, but his heart was racing. ‘Not yet; we might frighten it off, and never actually see what it is.’
‘Could it be Singer?’
Harper ignored the question, but kept his eyes on the screen. ‘Recorders running. Prepare for evasive.’ He turned briefly to another screen showing pulses of radar waves, bending around the approaching object. It was nearly on top of them. ‘Hold at six feet vertical.’
‘It’s too dark; at the speed it’s moving, it’ll run right by us and we won’t see it. We’ve got to light it up.’
‘Negative. Hold…’ Harper got to his feet, his wide eyes flicking from screen to screen. ‘Hold…’
Shapes appeared as the radar blip converged with their position. In night-vision mode, everything was a ghostly green. But the apparition that emerged from the darkness was unmistakable:
‘It’s a freakin’ giant wolf!’
For a moment, a second, human face was exposed by the greenish light, and then there was a ferocious snarl as a giant wolf creature, even more terrifying than the first, loomed up in front of them.
‘Go to strobe!’ The forest lit up — but for less than a few seconds, as something came down hard on top of the camera. The screen immediately melted into snow.
The entire room was on its feet. No one could speak, and the only sound was the static from the destroyed camera.
Harper turned to the recording engineer. ‘Please tell me you got that.’
The engineer nodded. ‘Yep, all of it.’
The loop was replayed for the first of many times, the technicians staring in wonder at the beasts’ faces. And Arnold Singer was clearly there too; he looked frightened and thin, but otherwise seemed healthy.
Harper leaned back and smiled. ‘Welcome back, son.’ He spun in his seat and eyed the army personnel hovering over him. ‘And now… we go and get him.’
Chapter 33
Know Who You Face This Day
Strom stood in the centre of the path, between two large boulders. This made it hard for his adversaries to creep up on his flanks, but still didn’t mean he couldn’t be overwhelmed by a frontal attack. He doubted the Panterran had the stomach for it.
He had torn his tunic free, and used the leather to wrap his hands; the blistering was painless due to the feninlang root balm, but was starting to weep. He would need a firm grip on his sword.
He stood staring into the dark, legs spread, holding his blade ready as the approaching horde bore down on him.
The first Panterran runners that broke through the forest onto the path were quickly cut down, and their squeals of surprise alerted the rest to be cautious. In a few more seconds, more of the small warriors had appeared, but stayed back, just out of reach of the large Wolfen’s sword.
Strom held his position — he didn’t really care if they fought him; he just needed to slow them down.
The snarls and hisses of the tangle of Panterran built quickly. Strom bared his teeth.
‘Craven worms of the night, your cowardice is why you will never truly defeat the saal of the Wolfen.’
The snarling fury of the Panterran quietened, and the boiling mass of flat-faced creatures parted to allow Orcalion to glide through.
‘Ah, of course… mighty Strom. We thank you.’
Strom frowned in confusion, and Orcalion nodded and continued.
‘You broke the agreement, champion of the Wolfen — made in the presence of your king: the Man-kind for the
