Wolves of the Wilds: The Elect: Book the Second by Alma T. C. Boykin

Author:Alma T. C. Boykin [Boykin, Alma T. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-10-13T00:00:00+00:00

PAULUS GLANCED at the map again, then down across the ridge toward the former chapel. "That's not a burn scar," he observed. "Rock too close to the surface?" A strip of land, level with the chapel's elevation, remained clear of trees. Or had it been cleared of trees? The slope of the land didn't look too steep for trees.

Attila, crouching beside a large grey rock, shook his head. "Not a burn scar. The last burn here that Mara or Lord Gregor found was in the early 1980s, the terrible dry summer. Russian soldiers were stupid and—" He didn't have to finish. "I don't think it is rock. Look at the vegetation near the chapel compared to these." He reached forward and ruffled the thick grasses and wildflowers in the clearing before them.

Paulus let his eyes rest, then shifted focus to better see the distant plants. Still green, but they looked lower, more like the grasses of the high mountains and ridges where winter came in September and left in May. More yellow appeared among paler green—sickly colors. The green turned to grey and brown around the stone building and the little path leading away from the door. "I like this not at all. Why are the plants so spindly and wan?"

"We go closer, but not too close. Only to the rim of the cross valley, stay in the edge of the trees." Attila stood, then leaned on his hiking stick. "I want to touch, sniff the soil."

Lord of all Creation, he liked this less and less. Paulus hefted his pack back on and followed the forester. They stayed in the dappled shadows of the beech forest. Here the land seemed healthy, with the proper bird calls and growing plants, aside from an old tree that rotted in place. He glanced at the mushrooms. They were the good ones, the pale umbrellas that added a meaty thickness to soup and dumplings. He mentally marked the location. There should be more. The air remained cool. The breeze began to flutter the new leaves as it crept up from the valley toward the ridges. He sniffed. Beech leaves, the damp earthy scent of a stream and marshy area below them, and a faint chemical scent. What was that? "What smell you?"

"The forest, and stove fuel, well below us. Someone probably lit the stove without resetting the pressure, and a little gas escaped." He shrugged. "We know where they are."

"Yes." Even after three years as men, the Elect retained the heightened senses of wolves, sharper ears and keener noses, and different ways of seeing the world. It took effort not to notice motion before color and pattern. Why had the Lord allowed that? Paulus did not know, and nothing in his faith's teachings addressed such things. Luther had maintained that freely-chosen sin led to being afflicted by witches or devils. Paulus no longer accepted that. Luther had been human, prone to err just like others, even if he had also at times been divinely inspired.

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