Mercedes had never dealt with a wolf pack before. It was a complete surprise to her that animals could cooperate and work together. Was this another form of magical influence?

  It took a little while to recognize the feints as the wolves moved and darted around her; she kept moving to avoid their lunges and suddenly found herself back in the forest.

  How neatly they’d maneuvered her.

  She lunched forward, charging the encirclement; one of the wolves leapt at her; she swung her arm- the one not carrying her sword- and her metal gauntlet crashed into the wolves’ snout with a satisfying crunch.

  The wolf yipped in pain, but Mercedes kept moving, breaking the encirclement and powering through into the forest.

  Now it was a race.

  *****

  Simone heard the yelp of a wolf in pain; glanced at Vitalen.

  “A wolf underestimated its prey, and got a bruised nose for its trouble.” it replied with a grin. “Would you like to see?”

  A wolf was a dangerous predator, a pack hunter. There were wolves that hunted on the plains, sometimes. They didn’t often attack the People, but when they did, it took a quick mind and stout heart to deal with them.

  Simone considered it for a moment, but shook her head. “My goal is within the mountains.” She replied.

  “No doubt a wise choice.” it replied sardonically. “The wolves- and what they are chasing- are coming this way.”

  Simone jolted at that, a touch of adrenaline freezing her veins for a few heartbeats. Simone glanced around, and then up. Wolves could jump, but they weren’t great at climbing trees.

  Well, for that matter, Simone wasn’t great at climbing trees, either. She’d spent most of her life on the plains, and trees were scarce, aside for a few trees here and there.

  A hunter was good at hunting because of preparation. That was something SImone had learned when she was young, before her powers as a shaman had awakened. Things could change on a hunt within heartbeats, so it was important to be prepared as best you could.

  Simone chose a thick tree near a short cliff face that was smooth gray rock; she scampered up the tree and as she climbed up, she realized that the nearby cliff face was only about twice as tall as she was- if the wolves threatened her too much, she could leap from the tree to the top of the cliff and get away.

  As she crouched on the thick bough of the tree, spear in hand, a strange, metallic rattling reached her ears.

  *****

  As Mercedes ran from the wolves, it suddenly became clear to her that this was what they wanted. They hung back, just out of her reach, but just close enough to lunge in and snatch at her cloak, her packs, her heels. When she veered from one side to another, they herded her back in the direction they wanted her to run.

  Mercedes was an exceptional soldier. She was trained by the best, most peerless warriors as she grew up in the Church, and she knew how to fight well. She wore plate armor that was normally ungainly and cumbersome, but could turn aside most blades and spears.

  If she’d been asked, she would have quietly but comfortably said that she could run all day in her armor, and then fight a battle at the end of it- and this wasn’t because she was a braggart, this came from the calm center of competence that had accumulated after long years of training.

  However, she wasn’t used to camping the way that she had been forced to camp in the forest, she was underfed and mildly dehydrated. She hadn’t expected to deal with this sort of situation, and her stamina was flagging.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Suddenly, an animal leapt out of the brush ahead of her; she nearly tumbled and fell, but kept her feet.

  The animal dashed in front of her, and then sped off ahead-

  Small dog, orange fur, pointed ears, long bushy tail-

  She risked a glance ahead, and a feeling of dread assailed her; she was rapidly closing in on a dead end, a cliff face with no obvious way around. There was no other way; she’d have to turn and fight.

  As she skidded to a stop, she turned, lowering her stance as she swung her sword.

  The wolves leaped back almost prankishly, and she realized again that the whole thing from the initial encounter, to the chase, to how she was deliberately herded- even this confrontation was something the wolves had somehow plotted.

  Summoning up her strength, she let out a shout.

  “Come then!” She snapped at them, raising her blade in a ready stance. “I am no easy meat!”

  One of the wolves blurred forward, straight at her; she stepped forward and thrust with the point of her blade, ramming it into the chest of the wolf, who died, snarling and breathing its rank breath in her face as it snapped its jaws, spittle flying.

  Even as she shoved the carcass of the wolf away, another darted in from the side, jaws closing on her booted leg.

  Her armored boots protected her from the predator’s teeth, but it jerked back, trying to upset her footing. She swung her sword down and back; the wolf leaped back with a yelp, a long bloody gash on its shoulder.

  *****

  Simone watched the woman trying to fend off the wolves, jolting when she spotted the elven ears.

  The elf wasn’t like any of the People Simone had seen before. The People of the Plains had uniformly brown skin and white hair, the People of the Forest had similarly tanned skin, but streaked brown hair, and the People of the Sea- the elves that had decided to live near the ocean’s edge shared a common history with the People of the Plains.

  This elf was unlike any elf that Simone had seen before. Her skin was fair, her hair a yellowish color, like the sun. Even the shape of her ears was different. More, she was tall, roughly a head taller than Simone.

  Simone’s eyes narrowed. Could this be one of the dread People of the Mountain?

  Simone watched the unfamiliar elf dispatch two wolves with a weapon that looked like an absurdly oversized knife. Wolves were pack hunters, but they didn’t willingly throw away their lives on difficult prey. If the woman dispatched one or two more, they would likely break off and run away.

  Except-

  Simone had learned from her visions that the People of the Mountains carried a sense of wrongness about them- a vestige from their pact thousands of years ago. Would the wolves sense that? They had to. The very world itself rejected them.

  There was also the fact that the woman looked exhausted, even as she swung her weapon. The wolves might make the calculation that this was the woman’s final stand and decide to attack anyway.

  “Are you not going to help?” Vitalen asked, appearing suddenly next to the young shaman.

  Simone jolted in surprise, lost her precarious footing, and fell out of the tree.

  *****

  Something large fell out of a nearby tree; Mercedes spared a glance in that direction and nearly froze; the fox from earlier was perched up high in the branches, looking right at her. It opened its mouth; she could swear it was laughing at her.

  She tore her eyes away and focused on her predicament; the wolves were eyeing her with rapacious hunger, and the cold gleam of intelligence smoldered in their eyes.

  There was a movement beyond Mercedes’ focus; a blur of brown and white, and suddenly there was a dog-like yelp of pain and just like that, the wolves scattered in every direction.

  Relief washed over Mercedes as the wolves ran off; she sank to her knees as exhaustion dragged her down.

  She took a deep, shuddering breath and let it out, even as a spearpoint appeared right in front of her face.

  Mercedes looked up, uncomprehending, and before her was a young elf girl with nut-brown skin, blue eyes, and flowing white hair. She wore a fringed shawl as well as a wrap around her chest and a flowing skirt of some unknown fabric, dyed and painted in patterns of repeating triangles and squares and spirals. Her skin was painted in red and white symbols that were incomprehensible to Mercedes. A leather belt criscrossed the girl’s narrow hips, weighted down with a number of pouches.

  The girl glared down at Mercedes; brows furrowed, frowning, holding the spear with a toned arm that didn’t waver. All she had to do was thrust the blade forward, and Mercedes would be no more.

  Is this how it ends? She asked herself, even as the elven girl opened her mouth.