“I can’t,” said Ivan. He lowered the crutch, and Billi wasn’t sure if he was asking for help getting up or pleading to stay.
“I can’t protect us here.” It was true. The clearing meant the wolves could come, would come, from any and all directions. Even the rock she and Ivan were sheltering under was a risk: they could be attacked from above. She needed somewhere easier to defend.
“Where’s this river?” Billi asked. If their backs were to the water, at least they couldn’t be surrounded. It was still pretty desperate: she’d have no retreat.
“It’s too far…” Ivan looked at her. “You’ll have to leave me here. Go without me.”
“Not bloody likely.”
Billi helped Ivan up. She handed him the pistol and picked up her knife.
“Lean on me,” she said. She pushed her left shoulder under Ivan’s right armpit. He was heavy, and they sank deeper into the snow as she took his weight. They weren’t going anywhere quickly.
The howls started up again and gathered into a chorus. The wave gathered in size and rose higher over the trembling forest.
How many of them are there?
They stumbled away from the crash site and into the darkness. The snow hid the roots, fallen tree trunks, and potholes that covered the forest floor. Ivan barely supported himself, and Billi was sweating fiercely after only a dozen steps.
They plowed through the thick snow. Billi could hear the snapping of twigs and the crunching of paws on snow getting closer. She even caught glances of movement beyond the tall avenues of trees. Ivan fired at the shadows, not hitting anything, but making enough noise to keep the wolves back. Billi stumbled blindly onward, ignoring Ivan’s groans of pain as she resorted to dragging him by his coat. Sharp twigs scratched her, roots tripped her, and branches grabbed at her. It seemed the forest itself was conspiring to hold her down.
They became tangled in the boughs crisscrossing their path, and Billi fought hard to free herself. She pulled sharply and Ivan slipped. His feet cut hers away, and suddenly they were both falling, sliding down an ice-coated slope. The stars spun above her head, and Billi crashed onto a solid, rock-hard surface. Ivan landed beside her, groaning.
Ice. They’d hit the river and it was completely frozen. Billi glanced back at the steep bank they’d just tumbled down and saw that the trees ran right up to its edge. Beyond, maybe a hundred yards away, was the other bank and more of the same. If she could reach it, she’d have the high ground. It was a chance. A small one.
Ivan pulled her sleeve, and she followed his gaze back to the riverbank.
One by one they appeared like spirits summoned out of the forest itself. Their pelts shone pearly white, and their eyes burned with hunger. Eight, Billi guessed, maybe more-it didn’t matter.
More than enough.
One sniffed the grooved path Billi and Ivan had left as they’d slid. Its black snout wrinkled, and it snarled, eager but wary of the steepness of the bank.
“Shoot it,” Billi urged.
“When it’s closer,” muttered Ivan. “This is my last bullet.”
Billi wiped her hand and settled the kukri into a good firm grip. She peered across the ice at the wolf.
Their eyes met. It stood motionless, daring Billi to attack, its black lips curling up, revealing a sharp set of fangs. A low laugh rumbled in its throat.
C’mon, try it, it seemed to say.
Ivan cursed as he dragged himself over the ice. Billi backed up, sliding slowly, keeping the knife up and her eyes on the silver wolf.
The wolves started barking, howling, and snapping; their quarry was creeping away from them, and they didn’t like it. The wolf’s grin dropped, and it put a thin, silver-furred forepaw on the muddy slope.
“Let’s get going, Ivan,” Billi whispered.
“Don’t wait for me.” But he’d got a rhythm going, a click and slide as he began to speed up-not fast, but steady. The ice creaked, and Billi heard the rumble of the river beneath.
The wolf ran down the slope. It slipped, its legs momentarily splaying out, and it spun slowly, unable to control its movements.
Ivan fired. The wolf rolled onto its belly, and the bullet scraped across its shoulder, drawing only a yelp of surprise.
Shit.
Billi grabbed Ivan. With arms locked, they began slipping and sliding across the frozen river, their breath steaming out in sparkling clouds. Billi saw the fear in her eyes reflected in Ivan’s. The wild desperation to reach the other side.
Then Billi heard the soft patter of wolf paws, and pushed Ivan away as she turned.
The beast leaped, smashing on top of her. The weight of the wolf blew all the air out of her, and they crashed onto the ice. The impact jarred every bone in Billi’s body, and all she could do was ram her forearm into the beast’s jaws as it sought out her throat. Burning pain erupted as its long fangs tore through the coat’s fabric and into her flesh. Billi screamed and jammed her knife into its side; blood spurted over her hand as she twisted it. The wolf pulled her this way and that, ripping the muscle and sprinkling her blood over its coat and the ice.
“Billi!” she heard as the ice cracked like a pistol shot, sharp and sudden. The ground tilted under her, and freezing water covered her face. She gasped for air and clawed for a solid hold before an orchestra of shattering sounded. Then the ice collapsed, and she and the wolf vanished into the endless dark of the river.
31
T HE FREEZING COLDNESS CRUSHES HER, TIGHTENING around her lungs, squeezing the last few bubbles out, and she watches them rise like silver balls of life up through the blackness toward the vanishing light.
Billi rolled as the river surged around them, trying to twist free of the wolf’s jaws. All finesse evaporated as the pair fought with desperate savagery. She clamped her teeth shut, fearfully hanging on to what little air she still held, and sank her fingers into the thick, slimy muzzle, forcing the jaws away from her face. Despite the enclosing, roaring darkness, the atavistic eyes of the wild creature bore into her. It shook her savagely, but Billi dug her knife in deeper. Claws ripped along her ribs, but she barely felt them now; her body was numb and her bones had locked into icicles.
The wolf’s heavy pelt weighed it down, and they began to sink. Bubbles shook out of the creature’s trembling body, and it jerked spasmodically, thrashing its limbs as panic took control. Its tongue lolled and its chest heaved. The fire in its eyes dimmed. As Billi kicked up, she saw the wolf rolling away, loose and limp in the current. Her lungs screamed, and blood pounded behind her eyes.
Vasilisa.
The stark, brilliant image of the young girl rose through her dull, slow mind. Billi kicked again, rising slowly. She had to find Vasilisa. If Billi died now, they all died. Still the river summoned her downward to join it. Billi kicked again. Her limbs rose and sank limply, but the light above brightened. The river’s surface was only a few feet away. She could see the moon, bright and heavy and huge above her.
Billi pummeled the ice with her bare fists until her last breath ran out as a futile cry in the silent blackness of the waters.
Then the ice exploded. Jagged shards stung her face while hands dug into her arms and hoisted her out of the water. The cold air shook her back to life. Pain ran through every vein, filling Billi with beautiful agony. She curled up on the ice, shivering uncontrollably. She was in pain, and pain was for the living.
Ivan must have saved her. She turned over onto her back, her vision clouded with dizziness. A figure moved against the near-full moon and bent over her. Hot, feverish breath swamped her face, but Billi gazed up at her savior, fighting the black sleep. She was so, so tired now-too tired even to shiver.
Apair of bright green eyes gazed down at her. Fingers hooked with talons caressed her face, smoothing away her wet hair. A gray-pelted wolf, standing on two legs, spoke. Its voice rumbled as its lips crudely mimicked human speech.