Fell (The Sight 2) by David Clement-Davies

Author:David Clement-Davies [Clement-Davies, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: (*Book Needs To Be Synced*)
Publisher: Phoenix Ark Press
Published: 2011-06-13T04:00:00+00:00

“BUT HOW, SCULCUVANT?” WHISPERED CATALIN, glaring at the wolf in disgust. “It’s witchcraft, darker than any of the tales we tell.”

The young man sat on a tree stump, as the black wolf tore into a snow rabbit. The ground was flecked with specks of red, and Alina sat opposite, with her jerkin half open, rearranging the poultice she had made for her injured shoulder.

For two days Catalin had followed Fell and Alina SkeinTale without talking, and now they had almost come to the far end of Baba Yaga’s valley.

Although Catalin had not been able to hear their thoughts, he knew now that there was some special power that worked between the girl and the wolf, and it had made the young man retreat into himself, almost as much as Lescu’s murder had. He looked on the wild creature as a kind of demon, and on his former friend as a being wrapped in witchcraft—a very sorceress.

“I … I don’t know, Catalin,” answered Alina, glad at least that he was speaking. She closed her jerkin again. “It just happened. And we’re linked by fate, and a power called the Sight. The Gift some call it. You heard what that soldier said of my half brother, Elu, how he was stolen as a baby and returned by wolves.”

Catalin glared at Alina with something close to hatred in his eyes.

“It’s you,” he whispered. “It’s because of you and that … that wicked thing that my father’s dead.”

Alina hated Catalin for saying it, but it was just.

“I … I would have done anything to save Lescu, Catalin,” Alina whispered desperately.

Another name was in her head though, and one that brought sorrow too. Dragomir. Her own father was dead as well. Catalin snapped the stick he was holding and jumped up.

“Damn you, SkeinTale. Damn you both to hell.”

Fell rose immediately and snarled, but Alina cried out. “No, Fell. This is between us.”

The wolf lay down again and whined. He felt almost jealous seeing them talking together.

“You speak to that thing as if it were a person,” said the young man with disgust, slumping down dispiritedly again.

“We’ve a bond, as I said,” said Alina simply, “as you did with Gwell.”

Catalin felt sick as he thought of his own dog, lying there with his throat cut. He had loved Gwell deeply. He loved animals as much as Alina.

“That’s not a dog, it’s a wolf. They’re killers, SkeinTale. Wild beasts.”

“You don’t understand,” said Alina coldly. “And don’t call me SkeinTale.”

“Understand what?” snapped Catalin scornfully. “Understand that this stinks to heaven? Understand that it’s unnatural, and what a wicked thing is happening?”

“Fell, come here awhile,” whispered Alina, turning to the wolf.

Fell looked up, but he did not move. He didn’t trust Catalin at all, and if his instincts and his thoughts of the vision had sometimes made him want to strike at Alina, he felt it tenfold with the young man.

“Why don’t you order it?” asked Catalin mockingly.

“I can’t order him,” answered Alina sharply. “The wolf does as he pleases.

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