I sensed something wrong deep in the night, and then I woke.
I threw on an outer coat and pulled on trousers—the farm boy’s clothes, so they hung loose. I had to cinch the belt tight.
The younger of the siblings slept beside me—at this point I still didn’t know their names, so I could only call them that. To avoid waking her, I slipped from the bed, eased the door open a crack, and peered into the cabin’s backyard.
The frozen carcass of the great bear still sprawled there.
That wasn’t something a pair of underage siblings could handle alone. By daylight I’d heard they planned to ask the village for help.
In my chest the heart tainted by the Seed of the Evil God thudded—thud, thud. In the dark, a will-o’-the-wisp gleam flickered, ghostly green.
I stayed at the crack of the door, quietly watching. There was no doubt—the source of that phosphorescent green light… was jackals.
Around a dozen.
They were drawn by the bear’s body—as is well known, jackals are scavengers; they follow the scent. It should have been natural.
But was it really? I held my breath and studied the beasts slipping from the dark: earth-colored coats sheened with a faint metallic gray; bodies swollen, nearly the size of wild wolves—
Forest gray jackals, a jackal subspecies born under the influence of magic…
They had indeed come for the bear—but not solely for carrion. They sought the residue of black magic clinging to the carcass.
I didn’t know whether they were a group formed in the wild by ambient corruption, arriving to feed by chance—or whether a black sorcerer was guiding them, searching everywhere for the prize their master had lost—
One jackal, larger than the rest, the leader, pushed to the front and sniffed at the carcass.
It lifted its head as if in thought, glanced around, then lowered its muzzle, bared its teeth, and tore off a strip of flesh. The others rushed up at once, crowding in to feast.
From start to finish they were eerily quiet—not a single bark.
Hidden behind the door, I watched as the bear’s body was gradually hollowed out. The delicate clack of teeth worrying bone stole across the yard.
Gulp— I swallowed. If these beasts finished the bear and left quietly, that would be best. But things defied hope. Soon, as if sated, the jackals raised their heads one by one—then began to pad toward the cabin.
Green-glowing eyes gathered on every side.
I looked at those hungry eyes without a word. I raised a hand to my breastbone, lightly brushing the place of the heart, feeling that ill omen from the Abyss.
Should I act?
Thud!
Just as I thought it, a dull smack sounded. A stone cut the air and struck the lead jackal’s skull. I followed the sound and saw the trees beyond the yard whisper and stir; a figure emerged.
“Come on then—come chase me!”
The figure taunted the pack while flinging stones and clods. His aim was excellent; almost every throw struck a jackal. It didn’t hurt them, but it did draw their attention.
I saw clearly—it was the elder sibling. Seeing the jackals start to converge on him, he spun and bolted for the woods—
Low growls rippled through the pack. They abandoned the bear and streamed after the boy.
Why was he out here! Shouldn’t he be asleep in his room?
Absurd. These weren’t ordinary beasts. Not quite monsters, perhaps, but nothing a child could handle—
“Tch!”
An axe for splitting firewood leaned under the eaves. I stepped out, took up the dull iron, and felt its drag in my hand.
“Headed deeper into the woods?”
I settled my grip and crossed the yard, striding into the shadowed trees.
…
Draw them off!
Don’t let them rush the house!
Nolan forced air through his lungs and ran in long strides. The night wind carried a faint reek of beasts.
He’d been careless. He should have known that leaving a bear corpse unburied would draw scavengers.
“Just jackals—not that fast… Make a loop… lead them away—then warn the village.”
But there was no time to regret. Thoughts flashed through his mind as he glanced back—and what he saw made his pupils contract—
A dozen jackals, as if mad, were lunging forward, bared fangs flashing coldly, already almost at his heels—
Startled, Nolan sprang two steps ahead, but the jaws still snapped for him.
“Not good—faster!”
Whoosh!
At that instant, a hemp snare sprang from the grass and cinched the lead jackal, catching its forelegs and neck. The ones behind stumbled and balked, nearly piling into their trapped packmate, then bared their teeth and let out furious hisses.
Yes… the very snares Nolan had set in the woods. He knew where they were, and had run this way on purpose.
Crisis eased for a heartbeat—but his snares were for small game. Against jackals they’d buy only moments—he had to reach the village, fast!
Mouth agape, he gulped the frigid air. Fresh strength crept back into his taut leg muscles.
He seized the chance and ran.
“Awooo—”
A rank gust slashed across him. Nolan jerked to a halt. A huge jackal had somehow slipped ahead and blocked his path.
Unlike the others, its eyes gleamed blood-red. The mane along its humped back bristled like iron-gray needles. Meeting that red gaze, Nolan felt—absurdly, almost like a feeling—sheer, vicious malice, and froze for a heartbeat.
“No! What am I doing!”
He gritted his teeth and tried to cut away in another direction—but the leader launched in a blink. Almost by instinct he threw up his forearm to guard his throat—
Crunch!
A bite meant for his windpipe clamped onto his forearm instead. Blood burst hot. A crushing weight drove in. The massive beast slammed forward like a falling stone—
Done for. The world reeled; the back of his head struck earth. He realized he’d been thrown to the ground. He remembered the old village hunter’s warning: against pack-hunting predators, never get tangled. If you go down, the rest will swarm you, and you won’t even have the chance to struggle—you’ll be torn apart.
“No—no way!”
Nolan clenched his jaw, wedged the jackal’s fangs against his forearm bone, and grabbed its skull with the other hand to hold it off. He drove his knee into its flank again and again, hoping pain would make it release. Instead, the saw-like teeth bit harder and harder—grating bone.
Hold—hold— He poured out everything he had just to keep the stalemate. At last, he felt the pressure above slacken for a breath.
He had no time to wonder why the rest hadn’t closed in. He shoved upward with the last of his strength, trying to throw the leader off—but the beast was no docile lamb. It shifted to a new grip instantly. Locked together, boy and jackal rolled ten-odd meters down a dirt slope—then the boy’s back slammed into a pine.
“Ugh—!” The blow nearly knocked his breath out. His head swam. His limbs went weak— and the leader’s jaws opened again, lunging for that coveted throat—
Thwock!
A strange sound—like an overripe gourd smashed to pulp.
Warm blood sprayed his face.
Blood? Mine?
Dazed, he blinked as the scene snapped into focus. Through a red veil, past the split halves of the jackal’s skull, he saw her—silver-gray hair washed in blood-glow.
In the moonlight, the girl’s coarse linen was speckled with black-red. Her right hand was tucked behind her back. She extended her left, slick with blood, toward Nolan.
“Well now. You’ve got more guts than I expected.”
The girl blinked her green eyes and said it just so.