“You have a better idea?” Irulan asked. Her mare, sensing her own mounting ire, chose that moment to begin chomping at the bit, earning a smug smirk from the dwarf. Irulan could have kicked the stupid beast-both of them.
“As a matter of fact-”
“Stop it.”
Though he didn’t raise his voice, Andri’s words carried a sharp edge of command. Both Irulan and Greddark turned to look at the paladin in surprise. He’d reined his own mount in and was grasping the reins so tightly his knuckles were white. But when he spoke, his tone betrayed neither impatience nor temper, only the expectation of obedience.
“Irulan’s right. The pack Quillion spoke of could be anywhere in the forest. Wolves and dire wolves have an empathetic connection with werewolves. They will know where the lycanthropes are lairing. It would be better if we could separate their leaders out from the rest of the pack, but we are short on time and resources. We will go with Irulan’s plan.”
Irulan hid her own smirk while the dwarf started to protest.
“But-”
“If this plan is not agreeable to you, Master Greddark, you are free to consider your employment terminated. I’ll give you a letter of credit to cover the fee you’ve already earned, along with your share of the rations that remain, and you can follow the edge of the wood to Olath. You can resupply there and book passage back to Sigilstar, if you so desire.”
The paladin and the inquisitive stared at each other for a long, tense moment. Greddark was the first to look away. Seeing the bleak expression in Andri’s eyes, Irulan didn’t blame him. It was as if something vital in the paladin had perished, draining away the warmth and compassion that Irulan had come to admire so much. A coldness radiated from him now, one borne not of anger, but of black despair. When his dead gaze flicked over her, she shivered.
“I was hired to find a killer,” the dwarf said finally. “I don’t quit with a job half-done.”
“Very well. Then we’d better prepare.”
The preparations, such as they were, took little time. Irulan scouted out a small clearing beside a muddy brook where deer and other wild game often came to drink. The wolves had been headed in this general direction. It was an obvious choice for a hunting ground.
Or a trap.
The tricky part would be making sure the wolves thought they were easier prey than their horses. But Irulan had a spell that would hide the mounts from detection, as long as the steeds didn’t accidentally touch another living creature. She solved that problem as best she could by tethering the mounts at intervals along the downstream end of the small creek, on the opposite side of the clearing from where the wolves would be approaching. She would just have to pray to the Flame that no curious chipmunk or darting bird bumped into one of the horses before the wolves arrived, thus negating the spell and revealing the mounts for all to see, friend and foe alike. She pulled out a small knife and notched the bark of each tree where one of the horses was tied, so they would be able to find the mounts again afterwards.
Assuming they survived that long.
Andri’s vote of confidence notwithstanding, she wasn’t sure her plan was actually going to work. Irulan had always put more stock in her claws than in her spells. Though she was loathe to admit it, the dwarf had been right to doubt the efficacy of her magic-wielding capabilities. She would try to charm the pack leader. Hopefully she would only have to worry about the male, because she wasn’t sure she could hold two of them in thrall at once. But she knew she’d better be ready for a fight, because chances were good that it was going to come down to whose claws were faster and whose bite sank deeper.
Greddark built a small fire and they took their positions around the circle of rocks, pretending to chat and snack like frivolous nobles out picnicking in the woods on a lark. Of course, since Andri had gone back to being his usual uncommunicative self and Irulan needed to focus her senses outward, on the wolves, that left Greddark to chatter along inanely with himself, a situation that the shifter suspected she would have found wildly amusing under other circumstances. As it was, she had to tune most of the dwarf’s blathering out in order to track the wolves’ approach, although random phrases periodically threatened to draw her out of her reverie.
“… and, of course, that’s when I found out she was really a he. Talk about embarrassing.”
“… when Uncle Zaxon thought it would be funny to turn me to stone for a few years …”
“… be sure to add that to my list of things never to say to a dragon …”
Irulan wrenched her attention away from the sound of the dwarf’s voice and sent her awareness back out into the forest, searching for the wolves.
There, to the south. Three … four. Where were the others?
Ah, the two females, one approaching from either side, but thankfully nowhere near the horses. Irulan could not sense them, but she knew the mounts would be whickering in alarm as they scented the wolves. Luckily, the spell hid them not only from sight, but from smell and hearing, as well. As long as their tethers held, they should be safe.
As the wolves moved in, Irulan noted their positions, then let her awareness of the hunters fade. She opened up her eyes and looked at her companions.
“They’re here.”
With the two females split off from the rest of the pack, Irulan knew the dire wolves would try to run them. It was a tactic their smaller counterparts commonly used to cull the weak from herds of deer and other ungulates. The pair would harry their frightened prey until the luckless animals ran, at which point the two wolves would chase them straight into the midst of the waiting pack. This time, though, they were in for a surprise.
The wolves were all but invisible, their grizzled black pelts blending seamlessly into the forest shadows. If not for their glowing yellow eyes, Irulan might not have known they were there until they moved out of the underbrush on either side of the clearing. As it was, she pretended not to notice them as she alerted her companions, making sure to keep her tone light and airy.
“The two females are circling us,” she said, as though she were discussing nothing more serious than the weather. “They’ll try to get downstream of us and force us to move closer to the males. When they make their move, draw your weapons and stand your ground, but whatever you do, don’t attack.”
“That’s like making your lady get all dressed up for the party, then refusing to dance with her,” Greddark said, not quite able to keep the sarcasm from his voice.
Irulan smiled, watching the wolves approach out of the corner of her eyes.
“Oh, never fear, there’ll be dancing. But the steps may not be to your liking.”
The dwarf grunted. “Nothing else about this plan has been. Why should this part be any different?”
Irulan laughed at his surliness.
“It’s a good thing you have such a quick wit, Greddark, because you’re going to need it. Right … about … now.”
As if her words had been a signal, the two females rushed them, snapping and snarling. They were at least five times the size of a normal wolf, with teeth twice as long as those of their smaller cousins. Their claws were like miniature sickles which the huge canids used to trip prey that got too close.
The companions sprang up, Andri and Greddark’s weapons clearing their sheaths with a song of steel on leather. Andri called flame to his blade, and the smaller of the two wolves whimpered when she saw it, crouching low with her tail between her legs. The larger, dominant female growled at her packmate, her own tail held high. The other female took courage from her leader, and soon she was standing and growling as well, though she stayed a good distance away from Andri.