The Dark in the Wood - Part 1 of 2 (Tatterwing Book 2) by M.M. Stauffer

Author:M.M. Stauffer [Stauffer, M.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Dark Fantasy
Publisher: M.M. Stauffer
Published: 2016-06-12T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 21 - The Hunger of Wolves

Medo struggled to keep her feet, but it was no use. Her palms slapped the wood of the floor as trickles of blood dripped from her nostrils and the corners of her eyes.

She blinked fiercely, grasping at the shred of memory she’d pulled away. It had gone better this time—the memory had made a cleaner break. But there was no time to dwell on that as the visions flashed and flicked through her mind like a swirling storm.

. . .

The road stretched endlessly behind her as she fumbled with the hand-pushed cart.

“Do you see that?” Wil’s small voice quavered.

The animal gleam of eyes shone down the road like tiny pinpricks. She might not have known what they were if she hadn’t seen the same gleaming eyes in Slerren. “It’s getting closer,” she muttered in Thallwater’s voice.

A hair-raising howl ripped through the quiet, drawing an impressive string of cursing from Wil.

“Watch your mouth,” she grunted, her roughened fingers moved on their own, fumbling for a pair of vials in the depths of the cart before her. She ripped a bottle’s stopper free, catching a whiff of intoxicating fumes as she spilled the liquid around the cart in a great ring.

“Da, someone’s out there,” Wil shouted. “Over here! Quickly, come this way!”

Medo looked up to see a woman in rags bolting toward them. Rowan. There was no mistaking her, even if she clutched a shawl around her face. “Get behind me,” Thallwater shouted. “Wil, you too.”

She could see the shapes of the wolves now, one of them a pale gleaming white, bearing down on Rowan. It wasn’t a moment after she cleared the arch of fuel that Thallwater’s practiced hands struck a crooked match, spreading a gust of flame around the cart in a half circle.

The wolves let out low growls, backing away from the spread of fire, the glow of flame making their eyes gleam all the more.

They were lean creatures, their limbs long and spattered with mud from the chase. Their rib cages were almost narrower than their thick brushy tails. The white one wore a dark mask of rusty red on its face, likely gained from reaching into the soft innards of some prey.

Medo wondered whether that prey had been human. Who else had fallen victim to these creatures? She watched, every nerve tingling as the creatures began to shift and circle closer.

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