The Wolf, the Watcher, and the Oryx E-Book

Joan Walsh

• Herausgeber: Revival Waves of Glory Books & Publishing
• Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

Khoa and his grandfather, Tristian are thought to be the last two descendants of an ancient pack of white wolves who followed 'the way of the wolf.' As the novel opens, Tristian lies dying, having been torn apart by the pack, for teaching Khoa 'the way,' which is now forbidden. The old wolf sends Khoa on a quest to find a watcher wolf, a book, and a society of white wolves; none of which may exist. As Khoa escapes through a mole tunnel that his grandfather had prepared for him, the pack waits outside the hut to 'set upon him'. In this Revisionist pack wolves kill wolves. Khoa is a reluctant hero, but through his adventures he takes on more belief in the traditions his grandfather had opened him up to. Khoa goes over a waterfall, runs into vipers, and has other troubles, but finally makes it to the river where Tristian told him he would find the Watcher Wolf. It is here that his new family finds him. His adopted zoo is made up of Washer, the raccoon, Pieces, the old chewed rabbit, and Serious, the young, officious rabbit, to name a few who add a lighter side to Khoas quest. Khoa has a love interest in the story in the form of Ani, an artic white wolf. They grew up in the Revisionist Society together, but never knew they had feelings for each other. Ani sees Khoa escape, and hopes to have Staver, Dueces' son, rescue her instead of hounding Khoa's trail to give him a head start. She places her paw in the mouth of the red iron dog, a man trap, and puts a twig in it to prevent her from really getting hurt, but the steel trap snaps the twig and she is caught in it for real. Scout, her father, and the pack are on the trail of Khoa, but get her scent and follow it until they realize Khoa isn't with her. Through a twist in the tale, Scout talks his daughter into leaving the pack and setting out to look for Khoa, which she does with the help of Retread, who happens to be one of the alpha pack leader, Dueces' son. They have turned against the pack. The Watcher Wolf finally meets up with Khoa and teaches him to 'humble himself' before he can read 'the way of the wolf.' The watcher and the other animals tell him the true story of the Last Revolt, how Duece came to be in possession of the oryx, and how it was that the black wolves killed Khoa's mother and father. Duece believes the oryx is the magic that has protected the white wolves and seeks after it as well as Khoa. The young cub has learned through the Watcher that there are other white wolves and a twin cub, his brother, Tor, who did survive the Last Revolt. He meets up with his twin as Duece and the black wolves close in on him; gathering their great armies of the East, South, and West against the white wolves. Both armies come face to face on the mountain of fire and ice where the spirit of the Venger wolf is unleashed. Through the use of the oryx and the ways of the wolf, the two brothers triumph over the Venger spirit of the dark wolves and make it to the realm of the Wilds and their ancestral home.

Leseprobe

THE BEAST TALE SCROLLS

THE WOLF, THE WATCHER, AND THE ORYX

––––––––

BOOK 1

––––––––

JOAN WALSH

Table of Contents

Title Page

The Wolf, the Watcher, and the Oryx

CONTENTS

THE WOLF, THE WATCHER, AND THE ORYX | The wind blows where it wishes and you hear the sound of it, but do not know where it comes from and where it is going; so is everyone born of the Spirit. | —John 3:6

CHAPTER 1 | THE BEGINNING FROM THE END

CHAPTER 2 | A PACK DIVIDED

CHAPTER 3 | THE WORLD, THE LAW, AND THE TRUTH

CHAPTER 4 | ALLIES

CHAPTER 5 | THE PACK CLOSES IN

CHAPTER 6 | THE WATCHER

CHAPTER 7 | LESSONS OF THE JOURNEY

CHAPTER 8 | OBSTACLES,OBSTACLES, OBSTACLES

CHAPTER 9 | ANCIENT WISDOM, MODERN TIMES

CHAPTER 10 | OMENS

CHAPTER 11 | PIECES, THE HERO

CHAPTER 12 | LOST AND FOUND

CHAPTER 13 | ENEMIES, ENEMIES EVERYWHERE

CHAPTER 14 | THE WAR BEGINS

CHAPTER 15 | FIRE FROM ICE

CHAPTER 16 | FROM DARKNESS INTO LIGHT

CHAPTER 17 | THE END FROM THE BEGINNING

About the author

Sign up for Joan Walsh's Mailing List

Also By Joan Walsh

About the Publisher

THE WOLF, THE WATCHER, AND THE ORYX

Copyright © 2016 by JOAN WALSH.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any way by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author except as provided by USA copyright law.

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

The opinions expressed by the author are not necessarily those of Revival Waves of Glory Books & Publishing.

Published by Revival Waves of Glory Books & Publishing

PO Box 596| Litchfield, Illinois 62056 USA

www.revivalwavesofgloryministries.com

Revival Waves of Glory Books & Publishing is committed to excellence in the publishing industry.

Book design copyright © 2016 by Revival Waves of Glory Books & Publishing. All rights reserved.

––––––––

Paperback: 978-1-68411-050-6

––––––––

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

CONTENTS

––––––––

Chapter 1: THE BEGINNING FROM THE END/ 1

Chapter 2: A PACK DIVIDED/ 20

Chapter 3: THE WORLD, THE LAW, AND THE TRUTH/ 38

Chapter 4: ALLIES/ 54

Chapter 5: THE PACK CLOSES IN/ 64

Chapter 6: THE WATCHER/ 70

Chapter 7: LESSONS OF THE JOURNEY/ 97

Chapter 8: OBSTACLES, OBSTACLES, OBSTACLES/ 132

Chapter 9: ANCIENT WISDOM, MODERN TIMES/ 162

Chapter 10: OMENS/ 178

Chapter 11: PIECES, THE HERO/ 211

Chapter 12: LOST AND FOUND/ 224

Chapter 13: ENEMIES, ENEMIES EVERYWHERE/ 246

Chapter 14: THE WAR BEGINS/ 264

Chapter 15: FIRE FROM ICE/ 292

Chapter 16: FROM DARK INTO LIGHT/ 310

Chapter 17: THE END FROM THE BEGINNING/ 334

THE WOLF, THE WATCHER, AND THE ORYX

The wind blows where it wishes and you hear the sound of it, but do not know where it comes from and where it is going; so is everyone born of the Spirit.

—John 3:6

FOR

GRANDMA ANNA THORESON

AND

ANN HANCOCK

WHO ALWAYS WALKED IN THE LIGHT

CHAPTER 1

THE BEGINNING FROM THE END

It was near dusk and there was the smell of snow in the air, but the young wolf pup sensed something else, too. He stopped to whiff; first south, then north. Change! He stiffened. Khoa’s markings were contrasting swatches of black on white. His muzzle was solid white and his black nose stood out prominently. His eyes were sky blue, the kind you could almost see through. Quiet intelligence shone in his face now, but the cuteness of his puppyhood was still apparent. A sudden wind ruffled his fur. Khoa stiffened again, his ears erect. Something familiar in that wind stirred him. He trotted back the other way, back to where he could see the wolves pacing to and fro. 

The pack was gathered in front of the boxes that were thrown together to make a place where the old one could die. A few wolves moved back in deference to Khoa, clearing a path for him; while some of the other pack members moved up purposefully to block him. Khoa lowered his head, but kept coming until he came nose to nose with Staver, who was a black wolf with mottled specks of gold and brown woven tightly into his fur.

“What are you going to do, once your grandfather is dead?” Staver pawed the ground in front of him. His chest was larger and more defined than Khoa’s even though they were almost the same age. Staver's eyes were black and unmoving as he looked down on the young pup’s lowered head.

Khoa heard the others in the pack. “The old one’s dying. You’re all alone. First picking’s over for you. You eat last now.”

The pup saw three other wolves move alongside Staver. They were his brothers, Warrior, Snuffer, and Retread. They stood four abreast, teeth bared. It was hard for Khoa to think that he had played with these pups just a few seasons before. Warrior and Snuffer were mixed black wolves with gray patches around the mouth and chest. Retread was brown and red, a species of wolf long since extinct, or so the pack leaders said. At any rate, he certainly did not look like his brothers. Not only were his markings different, but he was smaller in stature. Khoa couldn't help noticing that fact now as the four stood in front of him, their lips curled back. They would kill him and he knew it.

Once, when the pups had been left alone in the meadow, Khoa had helped Retread when the red wolf had accidentally come upon a mother bear and her cubs. He had distracted the she bear by yelping from a distance so Retread could make his retreat. Warrior and Staver had not let it go unnoticed. “The inferior helping the retarded.  You should have charged the bear head on.”

Warrior had given Retread a swat with his paws. “Runt. Coward. You can't be a brother of mine.”

All the other cubs put their two cents in. “No way are you a black wolf. Go live with the white wolves. Yeah, all two of them that are left,” they had said, and rolled in the grass laughing.

“Hey, Khoa, I’ve got a new name for you. The Great White Coward,” Staver had called out to him.

“That’s why we black wolves won the Last Revolt,” Warrior taunted him.

Khoa could only stand frozen to the spot. There was nothing to say. Warrior was right. The white wolves had been defeated, driven to the point of extinction.

In the tradition handed down since time began there was a patriarchal lineage among the white wolves. There had always been white wolves until the Last Revolt, which happened when Khoa was born. The practice of handing down your lineage had been halted by a decree from Deuce. He had lead the revolt and proclaimed himself the alpha. Now it was forbidden to hand down one’s lineage if you were a white wolf. Only alphas, who could prove royal blood, were allowed such patriarchal rights.

All certificates bearing lineage from before the Last Revolt were burned. Those white wolves that verbally dared to pass their lineage on were taken to the field and set upon by the pack. Usually the pack severed the jugular vein swiftly, but sometimes the wolf being executed was wounded savagely in order to prolong its death.

This is what they had done to his grandfather, Tristian, and why the old wolf now lay dying. The young white wolf felt anger rise in him. Khoa raised his head to meet the gaze of Staver. The dark wolf was making his move more quickly than Khoa had anticipated. This was his first test, and he must not fail. Khoa stood his ground, and the four wolves broke their stand off, leaving the path in front of him clear.

“Let him watch the old one die. Let him see how his own end will be,” Staver decreed.

It was snowing when Khoa entered the hut. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of himself. He had never seen death so close. Khoa looked up. There was a warm snow falling and the flakes were large and soft, lighting the blackness of the sky and the face of the old wolf with a sort of stoic brilliance; giving the old wolf an aura of peace and surrender to nature. Khoa relaxed. Things were the way they were meant to be.

The elder wolf’s face was wider than most wolves’ faces. It had been filled in with age. The old one, too, was a descendent of the white wolves now touted as inferior. The top part of his face and ears were black, while his muzzle and lower jaw were white clear down to his upper chest. Black and white rings ran in concentric circles around his neck and upper chest which gave him an aura of wisdom and intellect. His fur was thick and grand. His eyes were grey-blue and kindly; instilling him with a grace that was washed by inner sadness. Those eyes knew, thought Khoa.

So this was the great death, the great nothingness that all the other young wolves howled and bayed about in the woods. Seeing the old wolf now, Khoa knew there wasn't emptiness in death. There was peace and fulfillment in Tristian’s face. Death completed the circle in a way, though Khoa was not sure how. The young wolf didn't know how he knew all this, but his heart told him that it was true. Tristian said there was another life after death where all the ancestors waited for you. They came with the Great Alpha Wolf to welcome you home.

Everything his grandfather said was in direct opposition to what he had learned in Revisionist School. The Revisionists, as they now called themselves, taught that death was the end. Nothingness. The great void. The eyes of the old one bade him come closer.

“Khoa,” he said, struggling to clear the congestion from his lungs. “It is a fulfillment of prophecy that you are here with me.”

Tristian’s words were interrupted by Staver’s voice. “I  heard that, old wolf. The only reason we let him see you die was so we had you both together. Trapped like the vermin you are. Today shall mark the end of the white wolves.” A great howling went up around them.

Khoa was afraid his heart would fall to the floor, but he resolved to be brave. Tristian motioned the cub to come closer. He whispered in a voice Khoa could barely hear. “Do you remember all the times we spent together and the things I taught you?”

Khoa looked at him. “I will never forget.”

Tristian smiled and nodded in agreement. “Yes, yes. You repeat my words, but do they have meaning in your heart?” The old wolf paused. “Can you live or die by them?”

Khoa answered quickly. “Yes, I... I will try to,” but the old wolf cut him off.

“Khoa, you must know for sure that you can die for what you believe. It is in your belief that you will find your strength.”

“How can I be sure that I will be brave, grandfather?”

“You will know in your heart when you are no longer afraid of death. You will know. You will know.” Tristian nodded, to reinforce his words. “Carry the words in your heart. Carry them where no wolf can take them from you.” The old wolf coughed, trying to clear his lungs again.

“Follow the Way as it was handed down in the old days, before the law of the Revisionists and the order of the Reform. Remember that what the Revisionists teach is wrong.”

Khoa was beginning to sense fear inside of him again. He could smell it approaching. A sudden gust of wind opened the door and banged it against the sides of the box and his sense of trepidation grew, prickling his fur. Khoa could see the other wolves outside. They sat in a semi-circle just outside the tree line of the forest, waiting. His fur bristled across the ridges of his spine. Khoa couldn't help scanning the trees again. Ani wasn't there. His heart sank. He had hoped to catch one last look at her. Ani, I love you. I wish I were a dark and beautiful wolf, then I would be able to tell you. Khoa had always admired her from afar, but he was a white wolf and could not mate. Tristian had said that wolves once mated for life, but that was no longer the practice. Now they mated only for offspring and immediately parted.

Khoa was all twisted inside. He felt the conflicting feelings of death, love, and life. It was all vanishing before him. Everything was over before he had a chance to figure out what it all meant. How much time did he have left? An hour? Two? Soon his carcass would lie in that open space just outside the tree line and snow would cover it. It has all come to this emptiness, this nothingness, he thought. It would be as if he had never been. Looking at his grandfather, he wanted to believe that there was more to life and death. He wanted to believe that what his grandfather was saying was true; that life went on after death. There must be more.

Everything rushed in upon him and he could hardly breathe. Khoa looked at the old one and thought of the things that he had been taught in secret, and the things he was learning at the Revisionist School. It was all too confusing. What was life? What was death? He knew he must get Tristian's last word on it to help him make sense of it. He just hoped there would be enough time. Time. Time was a trickster, he thought. Time seemed to promise that it would always be there; that there was another tomorrow and another, but then it just ended. Time just ends, he repeated to himself, as if all the yesterdays had never existed. Was anything real?

The sound of Tristian’s heavy breathing turned him back to the question he wanted to have answered.

“Grandfather, are you afraid of death? Of just not being anymore?”

“Not being! There is no such thing as not being! Haven't  you been listening to what I have just said? To all that I have taught you?  I am the last one who knows the truth. I have paid the price in teaching you. They have taken my life.”

The old wolf paused a moment before continuing. “It will not cost you your life, Khoa. There is another way. Seek out the Great Wolf. You will find the truth. He will show you.”

“But grandfather, I've tried to talk to the Alpha and have gotten nothing but silence.”

“Have you practiced?”

“Many times. No wolf has spoken to me.”

“First, you need to believe. Do you?”

Khoa was shaking his head. “You told me you can't see the Alpha Wolf. That no wolf can see him. How do I find someone who’s invisible?” He hung his head down, afraid to look in the old one’s eyes.

“Seek truth and you will find him. He will come.”

“I’m trying to find the truth from you now, but all you are giving me are riddles. No one believes what you believe.”

“The Great Wolf does speak,” Tristian said.

“I've never heard him.”

“He speaks silently.”

“How can you speak silently? Riddles. You give me riddles when I’m asking you for answers.”

“He speaks here,” Tristian said, putting his paw across his chest. “He speaks in the heart.”

“Hearts don't hear, they feel. You feel with your heart,” Khoa almost shouted out of sheer frustration.

“Yes, Khoa. That’s how he speaks. He stirs the heart. The Great Wolf is in the wind, the leaves, the snow. Whatever is open to him.”

“I have never felt that,” said Khoa.

“You have heard him. You just didn't recognize it. He speaks to all wolves.”

“No wolf I know has ever heard him.”

“He speaks to all wolves,” he repeated more sternly. “You just have to listen.”

The two wolves sat in silence. Khoa felt helpless. His grandfather was on the edge of death and his mind was grasping at the wind. It was no use. He would get no answers now. He moved closer to the old wolf and touched him softly. None of these things mattered, he told himself. He, too, would soon lie dying.

“The whole pack is waiting for me at the trees. After you... Well, after you are...” Khoa couldn't seem to get the words out, so Tristian helped him. “After I'm dead?”

Khoa looked at the floor and then back up to Tristian's face. “Yes. After. And... and ... I go out to face all of them. And ... and... Well, we both know...... the outcome.”

The old wolf’s chest heaved violently. “Stop talking as if you know what the future holds. Do you think I have taught you all that is right just to let you be killed?”

“But how can I not die? They are just outside.”

“You will not die, but live. It is written. Why do you think I had Staver and his brothers place the box here?” Tristian asked. “I had a tunnel prepared years ago by a cadre of moles. It is just big enough for a wolf cub to crawl through on his stomach. Now look for the entrance. Dig,” he whispered. “Run until you get to the river I told you about. There you will find the Watcher Wolf and the Book.”

“Just run away?”

“Shh, Khoa. I haven’t much strength,” the old wolf lied, wanting to keep the vision of his death from the cub. When the young pup remained silent, Tristian spoke again. “I’m not afraid. You should not be.”

“I’m not a coward. I can face death.”

“Yes, yes. You listen with half your senses, Khoa. I also said that you would know when it was time to die, and you’re too young to know that just yet.”

The old wolf began repeating the words from the Book and Khoa joined in with him. “It will be winter when he will come into his own. The old one will lie dying, but the young wolf will have been taught well. He will set out alone to the river. There he will take up the Book.”

Khoa tried to hold back the tears that he felt, but he couldn't. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

The old one touched him with one paw. “I’m not alone. The Alpha is here.”

Khoa looked around. “I see no wolf.”

“He’s in me. Inside my heart.”

Tristian could see that Khoa was struggling to comprehend what he had just said. “My last breath here is my first breath with him. Death is a twinkling, Khoa.”

The young wolf looked into the eyes of the old one, and seemed to gather strength from the truth he now saw in them.

“Now, you will find it takes real courage to live and fulfill a destiny. Go. Find the others. It is written.”

“How can you be sure that they are out there?”

“Because I left them after the Revolt to stay and guide you in the Way.”

“Why didn't you just tell me that? We could have searched for them together.”

“You needed to experience this world and all that's wrong with it to know how to build a better world.” The old wolf caressed Khoa with his paw.

“Why didn't you tell me this before?”

“It wasn't time for you to know.”

Khoa looked down at his front paws just as the growling outside grew louder. He heard Tristian’s strained voice. “Dig,” the old wolf commanded, motioning with his head towards the entrance of the mole tunnel.

Khoa rose quickly, sniffing the ground until he smelled the dirt and stale air, and felt the earth give way underneath him.

“Find the Watcher Wolf, and you will find the Book. Hurry,” he heard the old one say as he entered the tunnel.

Khoa poked his head back out of the tunnel’s entrance to look back briefly towards Tristian, then crouched on his belly; he entered the darkness for good. How had he gotten here? He didn't want any part of this. None of it was his own choosing. He didn't believe in what his grandfather had said about death or his anti-revisionist teachings. Why did Tristian have to believe in things that were in total opposition to the what the pack believed? Why did he rant about old things and old ways which his teachers at the Revisonist School had said never existed. None of this was even in the history books. If it were true, it would be there for all to read, wouldn't it?

Revison was the new model of their society. They had been taught that it meant, ‘To take what's wrong and make it right, or to change from the old into the new. To remake.’

“Wasn’t change supposed to be good?” he had asked Tristian once, but the old one hadn’t given him a definite answer. “It depends on what the change represents. Does it give, or does it take it away?” he had said.

It was these thoughts that kept Khoa occupied in the darkness of the tunnel. He was being forced to leave the safety of the meadow where he had grown up, to reject the laws which all wolves lived by, and to find a new society with wolves he wasn't sure existed.

Even before Khoa could see the light, he smelled the outside air, heavy with the scent of new snow. As suddenly as he had found himself in the darkness, he emerged into the hazy light of early evening, made lighter by the newly fallen snow. He could see no trace of a moon.

Standing alone in the twilight he wanted to believe in what Tristian had taught him; that there was a place where all species of wolves were accepted and shared the same truths.  A truth, his grandfather had said, that came from one source only. The Great Wolf. Why should he believe in this phantom wolf?

He was grateful for the snow because its half-light made his way easier to find. He wouldn't let himself look back towards the lights and the comfort of the lair. Once Khoa started running, he didn't notice how blinding the snow had become. He knew he shouldn't follow the packs’ old familiar trail through the woods, but there was no other way to the mountain. The younger wolves had been told never to play there. That path was meant for only the older, more experienced wolves. The hunters in their pack had just used it a few weeks ago, Khoa recalled, when they had gone foraging for prey, but had returned with nothing.

The pack had been warned about the woods and mountains that lay beyond the Wolfs’ Lair. It was to be avoided at all costs. He knew there was danger, but there was no time for fear. With a bound, he cleared the first hurdle and was upon the rock that would take him upwards. He leapt to the next rock, and the next, and the next. Khoa began to slow down, panting with each leap, but he was determined to reach the top before he rested.

Finally, he stood on the crest of the ridge. He could feel the strength of the wind as he had never felt it before. There were no trees, no hills to break the winds force. He stood looking back down the path he had just climbed. He straightened out to his full height and braced himself. He could see the fifteen or twenty rocks he had just climbed and could barely make out the path below. What he didn't see was the figure of a lone, white she wolf watching him. She had not been there when he had loped passed the tree a few minutes before. If she had been, his nose would have caught her scent.

Ani looked at Khoa silhouetted against the darkening sky. He was a grand figure of a wolf. That's the way wolves were meant to look. She had never seen Khoa so fearless, so strong. He had grown into his own, she thought. Ani whispered a prayer before she realized she was doing it. “Protect him. Guide him.” She wasn't sure who she was asking for help, but she felt as if there was something out there, and it felt stronger when she looked at the ridge where Khoa stood. She cut her prayer off as abruptly as she had started it. She must erase such thoughts from her mind. If anyone had heard her just then, she would have been set upon by the pack. Ani watched as Khoa's shadowy figure vanished over the crest of the ridge. Had he stood there at all?

She stood for a while and stared up at the empty sky. Tears came pouring down, and she felt like they would never stop. Pull yourself together, she scolded herself. Get back now before you give him away.

From out of nowhere the thought struck her. If you hurt yourself, it might buy Khoa some time. Staver would tend to her if she were hurt. Ani turned from the path she was on. The stream was in the opposite direction. There were some old beaver traps left by man who lived there. The young wolves had been trained by the leaders of the pack to avoid them. They had learned how to put sticks in them to disarm their steel teeth.

Ani ran at a full gallop all the way to the stream. She was graceful and fast; her full, thick white tail lifted out behind her. She was intent and focused. Upon reaching the stream bed, Ani immediately began searching for a live trap. With her  nose down she went quickly over the terrain. By a yellowish, flat rock she spied the open jaws of the iron dog. Now, she needed a stick that she could use to keep the reddish teeth from totally closing down on her paw. Had she lost her mind? Was she crazy? She certainly had never pictured herself doing something like this. Look the other way, she instructed herself, just as she placed her left front paw into the center of the trap. Before she knew it, the trap sprang shut. The force was greater than Ani had expected. It snapped the thick stick in two, closing solidly around her paw. A white, searing pain shot straight into her brain, making her reel backwards. She was hobbled by the steel, and could only retreat back so far until the short tether of the trap yanked her towards itself again.

The pain was intense; shocking her into and out of consciousness in waves. Now she understood the stories of animals chewing off their own paws. That's what she would have to do, she thought. Chew off her paw. Frightened by the sounds that came out of her, she leaned towards the trap. First, she tried to dislodge the trap from its anchored spot deep beneath the loose stones, but it was no use. She would have to gnaw it off. As Ani bent towards her paw and started to bite down, she could taste her own blood mingled with the water. At least the water was icy cold. It would help to stop the bleeding. That was her last thought as she fell into darkness.

Tristian lay almost lifeless now. He could see that it was snowing heavier. “Come, snow. Cover the young one's way. Just as it is written.” He smelled, too, the closeness of the pack. They were just outside.

“How much longer are we going to wait?” asked one of the younger wolves, looking towards Staver.

“Yea, sometimes these old wolves take forever to die.” It was Chomp Chomp, a brown and grayish mixed wolf who spoke.

“I say we help him,” growled Staver, swatting the carton and exposing Tristian to the open air.

When the dark wolves saw the posture of Tristian, with his head down and his paws clasped together, the pack backed up with a collective gasp. This pose was not allowed by the Revisionists. A few members of the pack took off running. This was taboo. It was said this pose had the power to kill a wolf, or at the very least levy a curse on any wolf who saw it.

“The Great White Wolf,” said Tristian, as if he were actually seeing him.

“What's he saying?” Warrior asked. “The great, great, what?”

“The great nothing!” Deuce’s voice thundered as he made his way to where Tristian lay on his stomach with his paws extended in front of him. He blasted his breath into the face of Tristian. “You’re saying the great nothing, aren't you old one?”

Deuce bared his teeth and leaned down so that his snout touched the nose of Tristian. Deuce was a grayish black wolf with tufts of white on his two back legs. Another spot of white covered his whole chest; making him appear larger than he was. On the left side of his face, he had a scar that ran cross wise from the lower cheek, skipping his eye, and then continued into the upper corner of his brow. The wound had not been deep enough to take out his eye, nor was there any noticeable deformity, but he could not see with it.

He looked directly into the eyes of Tristian. “That's where I'm sending you, old one, into the great nothing. The great darkness.”

Tristian did not flinch from Deuce’s gaze, but spoke calmly. “Is that what you see in my eyes, Deuce?” Deuce did not answer and Tristian said, “I see your scar, but that’s not what blinds you. It is the cruelty in your heart that you are blinded by.”

Angered by Tristian’s calmness, and afraid that he might tell some truths that the younger wolves should not hear, Deuce gave his command. “Finish him!”

In seconds, thirty wolves were upon Tristian. “Beg, old one,” Staver taunted, but no sound came from the dying wolf. “No fair. He’s done for already,” said Staver, turning away.

As Tristian drew his last breath, Staver looked around to find Khoa.

“Father, the other white wolf!” he shouted, making his way back over the ground back to the crate. “I can’t find him anywhere.”

“He’s probably cowering under the crate,” Deuce laughed.

Hearing the commotion from Staver, the rest of the cubs left Tristian’s carcass to join the hunt. Staver motioned for them to surround the crate.

“In one minute there will be no white wolves left,” Staver said, and gave the signal for the pack to attack. As the box toppled over and over across the snow, it was easy to see that there was no one under it.

Staver drew his lips back, exposing his teeth. “Devil dog. Where are you?”

“Maybe it was the old ones magic,” Warrior said, looking at Staver.

Just as he spoke, his brother, Retread, fell into the hole that was the entrance to the tunnel and yelped. Snuffer and two of the other wolves had to pull him out with their teeth. Staver made his way over to where they were struggling.  “You call that magic? A hole in the ground. That's how he got away. Get back in there, Retread.”

“Wait,” Deuce said. “It's late and the snow is getting deeper.”

He looked around at the other cubs. “We start at first light.”

“But he’ll get a head start on us,” Staver protested.

“He can’t travel in this storm any more than we can,” Deuce answered.

By now the rest of the pack had gathered around where the leaders were huddled. One of the older wolves, Scout, who was Ani’s father, came up to Deuce. “Khoa's gone?”

Deuce only sneered at him.

“We'll find him,” Staver declared.

“I hope so because Ani's gone, too.”

Staver stared down into the hole. “Now, I have another reason to make an end of you, white wolf.”

Deuce turned to look back at the remains of Tristian. “Soon, old wolf, soon. One down, and one to go,” he said swinging back around to face the pack.

“I proclaim now that a fourth of all of the Lair’s range will be given to the one who brings me the white wolf’s head.”

CHAPTER 2

A PACK DIVIDED

By morning the snow still fell. It was coming harder and faster, and the drifts were deepening. Staver, Warrior, Deuce, and Snuffer were waiting by the entrance to the tunnel as the other wolves began assembling for the hunt. Wolves humped over the drifts and labored to reach the tunnel entrance. A few yards behind came Scout and his son, Tru. Scout was not interested in the chase for Khoa, but in finding his daughter, Ani. Trailing behind were Retread and a few other wolves. “Here come the losers,” said Warrior to his brothers.

Not only was the snow hampering the beginning of their journey, but it was soon discovered that the tunnel could not accommodate full grown wolves as Snuffer was almost immediately stuck part way into the hole.

“Get your big end and tail in there,” said Staver, trying to push him from behind, but Snuffer was backing up; his hind legs exerting more force than Stavers nose, and he soon was out of the tunnel.

“The hole’s too small. It was made for runts.”

“Runts? C'mon, Retread. Get up here, runt,” called his brother Snuffer.

Before Retread was ready to enter the tunnel, Deuce advised him. “Okay, when you get to the other side of the tunnel, howl to signal us. We will come and find you.”

“Be quick about it, brother, or we'll eat you up,” Staver said, snapping his teeth in the air at Retread and laughing.

“If you’re going to be mean about it, I won't do it.”

Deuce stepped up and gave him a swat that landed him in the hole to the entrance. “Do it,” his father commanded. “Howl when you get to the other side.”

The pack sat watching the entrance to the tunnel as Retread disappeared into it. They waited for quite a while before they saw Retreads' rear end in full view again. When he had fully dislodged himself from the hole he heard his father ask, “What are you doing back here?”

Next, he heard Staver.  “Get lost?”

Retread tried to ignore his brother and answered his father. “There's a big rock, a boulder in the way. I tried for the longest time to move it, but I couldn't. My nose isn't that strong.”

Deuce pushed Trapper up to the hole. “Alright, see if what the runt says is true.”

Trapper crouched down on his belly and entered the tunnel. Again the pack waited in the open air, watching as the snow continued to fall.

“Cursed snow,” said Deuce growling. “If it isn’t one thing, it’s another.”

Retread came closer to where his father was standing. “Everything is going right for Khoa, but not for us.“

“You’re the one that’s cursing me with this talk.”

Just then Trapper re-appeared rear end first. “He's right, Deuce. That rock is immoveable. You can't budge it with your nose, especially on your belly. A nose isn't the right tool.”

“Devil, you say!” snarled Deuce. “We'll even the score. Spread out. Head north. Let’s try to pick up his scent.”

“The snow's covered his tracks and it’s still coming down hard. It's not going to be easy to find his scent,” said Retread.

Deuce nipped Retread a good one on his shoulder. “Get to the back of the pack. I don’t want to hear you, see you, smell you.”

The pack started north with a space of about five yards between them. The drifts made it difficult for the wolves to wade into, let alone catch a scent. It took time and effort for the wolves to dig down through inches of snow, but they kept working their way forward. An hour later they hadn't made much headway, but Staver caught a familiar scent. He stopped to sniff deeper. It was Ani's scent.

He signaled to the pack. “I've got it,”

The other wolves bounded over to him through the drifts; sniffing eagerly over the area.

“I catch one scent here,” said Deuce. “A she wolf. Ani.”

“Khoa was here. We know he has Ani. I’m sure Ani marked this territory to help us find her.”

Deuce ignored his son. “Any wolf pick up Khoa's scent?”

All the wolves shook their heads.

“Well, we've got the she wolf’s scent. We'll follow that.”

Staver was at the head of the pack and Deuce nodded to him. “Lead on, son.”

Ani's scent was strong in his nose, and he moved more quickly now, sure of his direction. West. Hmmm. They had been going almost true north. Now it was due west. Maybe Khoa was zig zagging his course in an attempt to make it difficult to track him, Staver mused. At the thought of Khoa he stopped momentarily to growl back at his followers.

Noticing Staver’s displeasure the pack howled in agreement with his anger. They had caught her scent, too, and were excited. The trackers continued in this manner for almost an hour before Stavers’ nose guided them to the creek edge where the rusted teeth of the iron dog lay open under the frozen water. Here Staver paused, confused because he had lost her scent. No, it was still there, but there was a new scent that now mingled with hers. The new scent filled his nostrils. Man!

“There's a man trap here!” he called out. “So watch it.”

Staver stepped onto the mostly frozen water careful not to step onto the trap. When he had cleared the spot where the trap was, he arched his body and jumped with his forefeet unto the ice to break it. Pounce and lunge. Pounce and lunge. He continued this comical action until the ice caved in. The other wolves stopped to watch and laugh before imitating his actions.

After hours of breaking ice, combing the stream’s banks, and trying to pick up Ani's scent, it was clear that it mingled with that of man and something else. Blood. The snow continued to fall, making the wolves wade and jump at each step in order to clear the mounds.

The wolves were exhausted and cold. Complaints began rippling over the tongues of the wolves faster than the water in the brook.

“We'll never find her in this blinding snow.”

“I can't take another step.”

“The smell of blood is making me hungry.”

“There'll be no food in this storm. All the vermin are inside their holes. Tucked away,” said Scout.

“Yes,” Deuce said, wading over to where Scout stood half buried in snow. “Let's find shelter.”

“I noticed a natural shelter in the dried up portion of the river bed,” offered Scout, pointing back towards the south.

“Lead on,” said Deuce.

The place Scout was talking about was where the river naturally ended. The river bed itself was deep and hallowed out in a circular fashion. Trees fit neatly across the ravine's narrow width, making a crude roof which provided some barrier against the falling snow. The pack eagerly entered the rough shelter and lay huddled together for warmth.

Dawn came darkly with clouds covering the sky. White snow blended into white sky so perfectly that no one could discern where ground ended and sky began. Snow still fell, but it had changed into fine a mist. Deuce stepped out from the log shelter and into the snow which was heavier than yesterday. The other wolves, sensing his movements, awakened. Scout rose first and went out to where Deuce stood. He motioned for Scout to follow him as he started back down to the creek where they had ended their search the day before.

“I wanted to go over this ground again,” said Deuce. “There's something that bothered me yesterday. I want to see if it still bothers me today.”

“I agree,”answered Scout. “Something about the mingling of scents.”

“No,” snapped Deuce. “Something about the absence of scent. One scent in particular. Khoa’s.”

After picking up Ani's scent, the wolves tracked up and down the creek until it was clear that there was only one scent. Deuce stomped in the snow with his paws. “That devil dog. Just as I thought. Khoa’s scent is not here. It’s not there. It's nowhere. That's the priority today. Find his path.”

Scout waited for the alpha wolf’s tirade to subside, and then cautiously approached him to ask his favor. “Deuce, may I ask your permission to follow this trail to find my daughter?”

Scout met Deuce’s cold stare. He was taking a gamble because he knew Deuce needed total control over all his wolves, but he felt he must try for Ani was his only female offspring. He looked away from Deuce to prove he was an obedient wolf and gave deference to him as the alpha.

“I am an old wolf. In a few days I would only slow you down.”

Deuce continued to glare at Scout. He couldn’t fully trust Scout because he was born into the old order, and had once practiced the Way. True, Scout had been just a pup and had lived just a few seasons under the old regime, but Deuce sensed that the older wolf still carried knowledge of the Way which was in direct opposition to his Revisionist edicts. That made him dangerous. On the other hand, leaving Scout would enable him to get rid of some of the unwanted baggage he had with him. He could leave Retread, who was a constant source of irritation, with Scout.

“Stay,” was all Deuce said as he turned brusquely away.

“Would you permit my son, Tru, to accompany me?”

“No,” cracked Deuce without looking back at Scout. “I will leave my son, Retread with you.” Deuce felt a sense of power and happiness in denying half of the old wolf’s request.

Once back at their camp, Deuce yelled into the cave, ”Tinker, Retread, come out here.”

The dark wolves stretched as they got to their feet and then dutifully trotted out to where Deuce stood.

“Tinker, I want you to go back to the Lair and get a hundred wolves. Bring them back here,” he ordered. The wolf nodded and bounded off at a gallop.

“And you, runt. You’re going to stay behind with Scout. He's going to follow Ani's trail.”

Retread was secretly relieved, but he didn't dare let his father see his pleasure in being left behind. He liked Scout because the older wolf had never teased or belittled him.

“Father!” Staver objected. “What do you mean Ani's trail? It's Khoa’s trail as well.”

“Quiet! Has there been any scent of Khoa since we started out?” he asked, looking at each wolf in turn. “Has anyone had even a wisp of him?”

All the wolves stood silent.

“What does that tell you?”

Again not one wolf spoke.

“Your stupidity astounds me,” he said almost foaming at the sides of his mouth

“Tru, you stay with the pack. I have more need for you here than your father does.” As he spoke, his gaze fell on Tru. He felt glee in announcing to Tru that he would be going with the pack to hunt Khoa. Deuce could see that his orders left Tru numb. The young wolf looked back at Retread, who was standing beside his father, Scout. Tru barely heard Deuce commanding the rest of the pack, or noticed their frenzied state of activity. Something told Tru that this might be the last time he would see his father.

The young wolf, Khoa, looked at the scene which lay in front him. He had never been so high up. It seemed he could see the whole earth from this vantage point. The north side of the slope went down forever and he could not see the bottom. He felt a strong urge to look in the direction of the Lair. Khoa turned, but it was dark and the snow pelted down so he was unable to see the jagged cliffs behind him. The wind pushed in gusts against him. In that moment, he knew Tristian was dead. Emptiness invaded his heart. Khoa sensed that something which had been alive was gone; its essence removed completely and utterly from the face of the earth. He was alone.

The descent was slow and treacherous because the rock was iced over. Within a half an hour his thick coat was matted with frozen snow. His paws were so cold he felt like they would break off, but he kept on until he had no feeling in his feet at all. He needed to get out of the snow. He had been looking for a cave when he spotted a huge tree that had fallen over a small crevice. There was space underneath for him, and it was dry.

Khoa licked at his fur in order to comb the ice out of it. He was thirsty, and the ice helped ease the parchedness in his mouth and throat. Khoa fell asleep as soon as he had lain down.  Sometime later, he woke with a start. All he could remember of the dream was a big white wolf. What had it said? ‘You are on the right path? You are not on the right path?’ He just couldn't grasp it. What had the dream been about? He tried to think, but the dream kept moving away in front of him. The hunger in his stomach made him unable to concentrate.

He poked his nose through an opening in the pine branches and clumps of snow fell down. He moved forward on his stomach until his head and shoulders had cleared the branches and then he stood up. He stretched by putting his front legs way out in front of him, and then shook himself from his head to his tail. He realized he was thirsty, and began to eat at the piles of snow in front of him. When he had quenched his thirst, he wiped his snout back and forth in the snow vigorously. He felt refreshed and was ready to go on. He would find a rabbit or something. The snow was all quiet and smooth before him. Nothing had touched it and it lay perfect. He would be the first one to step on it. The new carpet of snow that had fallen during the night would help to hide his tracks behind him. They would be out hunting him now. Would they think that he would dare to go into the unknown regions where only the hunters of the pack were allowed entry?