Chapter 46
en. Zelle’s dire wolf.
It’s been many moons since the old commander met his fate at theF hands of Benny’s rebels, and from what Ryne said in Galreck, I assumed Fen would have already passed on.
The bond between a dire wolf and its knight is absolute. When one dies, the other follows. Not instantly, but in a slow fading as their soul, now split and unable to recover, loses its grip on mortality until Mortidem claims them.
I don’t hesitate, the weakness of a moment ago forgotten as I bound onto the nearest horse and race after Elska and Kyor.
At first, I can’t make sense of what I’m seeing. There’s stirring in the mud, but it’s only when I’m close enough that I know they’re right. A dire wolf. Mud-coated and trapped in the centre of the river.
His reddish fur is almost entirely brown, and his shoulders move back and forth as if he might somehow be able to claw himself out of the thick mud, but if anything, it’s only making him sink deeper. ‘Elska, get away from the river, now!’ Kyor yells as Elska edges down the silt-covered riverbank. ‘Get away from there! You’ll get trapped too!’ His panicked shout sends birds flying from nearby trees, and I struggle to hold my horse still as she dances in place, nerves firing. ‘The dire wolf cannot be saved,’ Thessa says sadly from behind me, the others having galloped to my side. ‘The Taron River does not give up its victims once captured. I told you. Only step on the rocks. The black mire is certain death. When the tide comes in …’ I cannot listen to her explanation anymore. I don’t need to.
His fear, his panic, it was mine. For one raw heartbeat, it was me facing
death, and I would no more let him die than I would willingly stop breathing.
My skittering horse is not helping, so I slide off her back. ‘Here.’ Ruben takes the reins from me without hesitation. ‘I’ve got her.
You go.’ I don’t need him to tell me twice.
Elska is padding closer and closer to the bank, whining softly as she tries to figure out a route into the river to Fen. But there is none. Not for a wolf of her size. Not without her ending up just like Fen. ‘Hold her!’ I snap at Kyor. ‘Hold her in place with your magic.’ He grinds his teeth. ‘She won’t forgive me. I’ve never used my magic on her – against her.’ ‘Better angry than dead,’ I point out sharply.
I’ve seen Kyor in impossible situations before. Defeating a giant on his own. Bringing an entire battle yard of Rettlings to their knees. But I’ve never
seen him like this – frozen by fear. ‘Do it!’ I bite out, and he does.
Elska lets out a snarl of pure fury as his magic clicks into place around her, holding her. Pain contorts Kyor’s face, but Elska is safe, even if she doesn’t want to be. That’s one less thing to worry about.
With her secure, I turn back to the others. ‘I won’t let Zelle’s wolf die like this,’ I tell them stubbornly. ‘Without Zelle’s training, I’d have died in the Retterheld. I owe him.’ I look at Benny. ‘You and your rebels are the reason he’s out here. Will you help me?’ ‘Of course,’ Benny says instantly, as if there was never any doubt. ‘There is no getting him, The Rose,’ Stide says stubbornly. ‘He is in the quagmire. Mortidem stalks him.’ ‘Fuck Mortidem!’ I snap. ‘Fen is not dying today.’ The tide is coming in, and the water is rising. Fen is tiring and weak, his head dangerously close to dipping below the waterline. Gods know how long
he’s been struggling already.
But he’s not alone. Not anymore. ‘I’ll wade into the water and hold his head up,’ I begin, the plan already
forming in my mind. ‘Once I’m —’ ‘But—’ ‘I’ll stick to the rocks,’ I cut Stide off, already knowing what she was going to say. ‘I’ll stick to the rocks, hold his head up, and when he’s not in immediate danger, I’ll grow the vines from here.’ I point to a tree covered in
thick, dense ivy. ‘When the vines are long and thick enough, one of you will need to bring them to me in the river so I can tie them around him.’ I see the doubt lingering in the faces of the Sannings, but I’m done with the days of doubting myself. I’m the gifted. I’ve survived loss and pain and fought to get where I am today. I can do this. ‘I’ll make them strong enough to hold his weight,’ I assure them. ‘Strong enough that they won’t snap. We can pull him out. I know we can. I just need you to do what I say and give it everything you’ve got.’ ‘Do it,’ Benny says. ‘You grow the vine, Rose, and I’ll bring it to you.’ His eyes flick to Kyor, who stands alone, all his energy focused on holding Elska still against her will. ‘It’s the least I can do.’ Benny dismounts and hands his horse’s reins to Loch. Then he joins me, looking into the river. He goes up a slope that’s a fair bit steeper than the rest, climbs on top of a large rock resting at the apex, and then looks down into the raging waters. ‘Okay, Rose, step just where I tell you to,’ Benny instructs. ‘I’ll spot the safest path through.’ Gratitude swamps me. Regardless of what reparations he needs to make with Kyor, I thank the Gods for the day I met Benny. ‘Just tell me where I need to go.’ ‘Enter there,’ he says, pointing to a section where a tree bows low over the river. ‘Its roots are strong,’ he tells me. ‘Hold on to its branches as you enter; there are plenty of rocks to stand on if you go in there.’ I remove my dagger, only to momentarily contemplate whether it’s safe to leave it in the Sannings’ presence. ‘We will not take it,’ Stide says, reading my thoughts.
My eyes go to Caz, who offers me a nod of assurance.
Knowing it’s safe, I take off my fur too and leave them both on the riverside, and then I follow Benny’s instructions.
I grasp the tree’s nearest branch and gasp as I step into the freezing river.
The water is cold enough that it rips my breath away, and for a beat or two I struggle to even breathe, let alone move. ‘Move, Rose!’ Benny yells. ‘You need to move before the cold saps your strength. It’s only going to get harder if you linger.’ It’s hardly a tender word of encouragement, but it’s what I need to get moving all the same. I know all about the bitter cold. I’ve survived it many times, and this will be no different.
I recall the snap of the freezing water around the temple on the night I
made my offering to Etta, and my determination to reach the temple no matter what. I use that same stubbornness now as I inch further into the icy water.
Fen must have tried to cross the Taron during low tide and got stuck in the sucking mud. He’s been trapped ever since, cold and afraid.
This is who Elska has been scared for, I realise belatedly. She’s been feeling Fen. Maybe it’s a trait of dire wolves, to feel each other’s pain the way they can with their bonded?
It doesn’t explain why I could feel his fear too, but right now, all I can do is add it to the long list of questions to find answers to, along with what’s happening to William’s skin, why Kay isn’t showing powers, and how the heck to get mine under control.
Though whether I ever get to ask them depends on me actually surviving long enough to do so.
The first few steps come easier than I expected. Yes, it’s cold, but I know cold well. The stones under my feet sometimes rock and move, but Benny is there, ready to shout where I should move my feet next. ‘You need to go wide, around to the left of him!’ Benny yells from the riverbank. I do as he says and thankfully find some more stable footing, but it’s not just my feet I have to worry about now. The push of the tide is relentless, constantly threatening to sweep me away and downriver. My legs and stomach burn with the force of fighting against it as I wade through, muscles weakening with the constant shivering that grips my entire body.
Finally, I reach the exhausted wolf. ‘Hey,’ I say softly when I reach him. ‘I know you don’t know me, and I know you probably don’t understand what I’m saying, but I was friends with Zelle.’ His eyes widen at the mention of the old commander’s name, and he lets out a slight whine. It’s a tiny noise, barely audible, and yet it’s enough to send Elska into a howling frenzy.
In answer to her torment, Fen renews his struggles, only to sink deeper into the mire as a result of his thrashing. ‘Kyor!’ I shout back to the bank. ‘Keep her calm! She’s making things worse!’ ‘You think I don’t know that!’ he yells, but he must manage to do something because her howls cease.
I turn back to Fen and look into his intelligent olive-green eyes. ‘I’m
going to hold your head up for you because I think you’re real tired, big guy.
So do me a favour and please don’t bite my hands off, okay? I’m not going to
be able to help you if you do that.’ I’m only half joking.
Keeping my weight equally balanced, legs akimbo, I reach out and cup his chin, lifting it clear of the water.
He is breathing heavily, but he’s looking at me, willing me to help.
Hope.
His eyes are filled with hope. And I know exactly how dangerous that is. ‘That’s right, big guy, we’re getting you out of here,’ I promise.
His head is heavier than I expected, especially with waterlogged fur, and the shaking – whether from fear, cold, or pure exhaustion – makes holding it up even harder.
If we don’t get him out fast, he’s not going to make it.
I check my hands and make sure his head is positioned safely out of the water, then turn my attention to the riverbank.
Closing my eyes, I call to my magic and pull at the ivy, entreating it to grow to me. ‘It’s too thin!’ Caz yells out from where she holds the horses. ‘It won’t take his weight. You need to make it thicker.’ Thicker. Stronger. ‘Not too thick!’ Benny shouts at me a second later. ‘Or I won’t be able to fit my hands around it!’ Llinos’s voice threatens a pithy comeback in my mind, but I push it down. Now is not the time for ghosts when the living so clearly need me.
Like me, Benny has taken off his fur and weapons. He picks up the vine and begins to coil it around his arm. Once enough is gathered, he lashes the coiled loops onto his shoulder, pulls them taut, and then begins to take the exact same steps I did from the riverbank.
Unlike me, though, he blisters the air with swear words as he goes on and
on about how cold it is.
Nobles, I think to myself. ‘Help is coming now,’ I say confidently to Fen. ‘You’re going to be okay.’ ‘The tide is coming in,’ Thessa calls to us. ‘Benny, you need to move faster.’ ‘I don’t see you volunteering to wade into the bloody freezing river!’
Benny shoots back.
I ignore him. ‘How long will it take for the tide to come in?’ I call back to Thessa, but it’s Stide who replies. ‘In half an hour the wolf will be dead,’ she says, offering the answer to the question I was too afraid to voice.
In response to Stide’s words, or maybe her ominous tone, Fen starts to thrash around, and I’m bombarded with his panic again.
The fear is so thick I can hardly breathe, and I work hard to calm myself down and project that calm to Fen. ‘Hey, it’s going to be okay. I promise you.
We’re going to get you out. Just calm down, big guy. We need you to conserve your energy for when it’s really go time.’ But Thessa is right – the water level is rising. I tip his chin up a little higher, and though it can’t be comfortable, he doesn’t complain. Instead, he stares at me with an expression I wish I could read.
Unlike Elska, the wolf has no white rings around his eyes, and pure olive green meets my gaze. Presumably the rings faded away with Zelle.
Benny is slowly getting closer, his curses still colouring the air as his teeth chatter. ‘Just take your time,’ I call out. The last thing I need is for him to get stuck too. If that happens, we’re completely lost.
Careful not to upset my footing, I adjust my grip a little beneath Fen’s chin. His eyes have calmed by a fraction, but he is still straining against the sucking mud, and it’s drawing him back in tighter. I need to distract him. ‘Zelle saved me, you know,’ I say to the wolf, stroking my fingers against his muzzle as I hold him up. ‘Not directly,’ I admit. ‘But he helped me re- learn how to fight. Gave me the confidence to believe in myself.’ I pause, my voice caught on the lump forming at the back of my throat. ‘He was a good man. One of the best. And that tells me you must be one of the best wolves.’ The wolf shivers beneath me and I pull him a little closer as I flick my
eyes back to Benny.
Come on, Benny!
It’s not just about the water. I know what it looks like when someone has given up on life. I watched it happen to my father, saw the moment life slipped through his fingers and never quite returned.
Fen is teetering on the edge of it now, in that darkest of moments. The brief flare of hope gutters out as quickly as it formed. He can’t see a reason to keep going, can’t see anything beyond the weight of what he’s lost.
Just like my father.
And perhaps it’s the echoes of that, the feeling I have never quite shaken, that somehow I let my father down too, that makes me refuse to let Fen sink into this fucking mud. ‘Gods, Zelle was a stickler for perfect footwork,’ I continue. Though the muscles in my arm shake from the strain of holding him up for so long, I keep my voice soft and level. Even if the wolf can’t understand my words, I’m hoping he can still be soothed by calm, steady speech. ‘You have no idea the number of times he made me repeat these drills. It felt like it was dusk to dawn sometimes.’ I offer Fen a wry smile as Benny wades closer. ‘Those evenings, I ached so badly, and I wanted to yell at him. But he was right. His training worked. Made me a fighter again. ‘And deep down, I was so grateful, because he was the only one who didn’t treat me like I was fragile, like I shouldn’t be there. And he told me about my parents, too. Did you know that?’ I pause to lift Fen’s head higher again. It’s not just the tide that’s the problem. My arms are bone-tired and aching, the weight of his head and the chill of the water sapping what little strength I have left.
Still, I will myself to carry on speaking, to distract myself as much as Fen. ‘I lost my parents, and I have memories of them, of course, but lots of them aren’t the best. The majority of my memories were after we were cast out, you see, and it was hard for them to talk about the years before. But when Zelle told me about my parents, it was the first time in years I had heard someone speak warmly of them. I don’t think he even knew how much that meant to me. Or maybe he did. His heart was so, so big.’ I’m trembling with the cold and my teeth chatter as I force myself to continue. ‘Kyor misses him every day too, you know. He … he loved him so, so much. More than anyone, I think. So you need to get through this, okay?
Kyor and Elska need you. You’re their last link to Zelle. You matter, Fen. We need you.’ For less than a breath, he wearily lifts his head up by himself and nuzzles into my cheek, and I feel warmth like the sun on the brightest summer’s day.
Inside and out, the blaze envelops me in stark contrast to the freezing cold.
It makes no sense – unless it’s the cold claiming me as well as Fen, of course.
The moon forgive me my selfishness, Little Raven, a voice says in my mind, but I cannot fight it any longer.
I blink. Yes, the cold is clearly addling my brain. It’s not a good sign. We need to move faster.
The water is coming in swifter now, too. It’s already up to my ribs and the shiver is constant. Does Fen’s fur make it better or worse for him? I don’t know, but if Benny doesn’t make it here soon, it’s going to be too late.
Thankfully, as I turn to head back to the riverbank, I see Benny only a metre away.
Relief floods through me. ‘It’s okay, Fen. We’re going to get you out now, any minute. I promise. We’re going to get you out.’ I look at Benny. ‘Can you tie it around him?’ He nods. ‘I’ve got it. You keep his head up.’ Benny works for a few moments before he takes a deep breath and dives into the water, swimming to hold himself in place while trying to secure the vine around Fen.
He resurfaces with an explosive breath. ‘The vine’s too thick, too slippery, I can’t get it around him,’ Benny bites out in frustration.
I think furiously. ‘Loop it around him,’ I instruct, ‘and then hold it together. I’ll secure it.’ He dives back down without question, and I can see him holding the vine under Fen just like I need him to.
I pull my magic out, but it is sluggish and slow after so much expenditure. Fuse, I tell it, and the two parts of the vine join and fuse together, forming a tight loop around Fen.
Benny breaks through the water. ‘It worked!’ he shouts in triumph.
My legs are losing feeling from the cold – my hands, too. I’m using every last scrap of energy I have to keep Fen’s muzzle cupped and out of the water, but my arms hurt.
It’s not about me. It’s about saving Fen, no matter the cost.
Since I have control of the vine, I tell it to grow widthways around him, so it’s not one single point of contact, but spread wide, like a hammock. The last bits of my energy leave me, and I panic a little that I may have overdone it, may have drained my magic dry. ‘It’s done,’ Benny says triumphantly, calling to the others, ‘Go for it!
Pull!’ There’s no one on the sidelines now. Even Stide is heaving on the vines from the riverbank. As the makeshift rope goes taut, Fen’s body jerks upward and hope jolts through me – before faltering and dying.
Somehow, their combined strength isn’t enough. Fen’s paws are still trapped, the sucking mud clinging to him like it means to keep him forever. ‘We need more!’ I shout. ‘You need to pull harder!’ But they already are. I can see it in the strain of their bodies, the way their boots dig into the earth. ‘We are too close!’ The words come from Stide. The Sanning’s muscles are taut as she tries to lever the vines further away from the bank. ‘We will not free him from here.’ The others follow her lead, shifting their grasps further back on the vines, but it makes no difference.
My stomach sinks. Even if they pull until their arms break, Fen isn’t coming out, not like this.
Maybe if we had an extra hour. Maybe if the tide wasn’t already creeping higher around us. But we don’t. The water is rising, and my arms are shaking as I fight to keep Fen’s head above the surface.
There has to be another way. There has to be.
I won’t give up now!
Kyor looks at me and I brace myself for him to say we’ve done everything we can. But he doesn’t say that. Instead, his voice cuts through the chaos, sharp and authoritative. ‘Everyone, let go of the vine!’ ‘We let go, the tide will take them all!’ Stide calls back. ‘Not if you do what I say now!’ Kyor yells back.
It’s back, the commanding tone of one who knows how to ensure his
people survive. ‘Kyor?’ I call. ‘Can you make the vine taut?’ he asks. ‘Strip out the slack. You can do that, right?’ ‘Yes,’ I say, though my voice, thick and slow, barely sounds like mine.
‘Yes.’ Goddess, help me, I entreat Etta.
I don’t know if I have the energy for more magic, but somehow I dig deep and find more.
It’s torpid. Heavy. I’ve already spent so much, and the cold is burrowing deep, turning my limbs clumsy. Still, I push. I have to. All the while, Kyor is ensuring the vine’s secured to a thick, ancient tree. ‘Rose is draining herself!’ Benny yells out. ‘She needs to stop!’ ‘Just a bit more,’ I mutter back to him. ‘Just a bit more.’
‘That’s enough!’ he snaps, wading up beside me, his hands firm on my arms as if I’m the one about to sink. ‘That’s enough. I’ve got you now.’ I don’t know if I let my magic pull away from the vines, or whether I have no more to give, but as it peters out into nothing I know I’ve done all I can. ‘Move away from Fen!’ Kyor calls to us urgently. ‘No,’ I say weakly, ‘I need to stay with him.’ My words slow. ‘It’s the only way to save him!’ Kyor roars. ‘It’s this, or he dies. MOVE!’ Benny lifts me and puts me on his back like I’m a small child. ‘Hold on to my shoulders, Rose.’ My hands are so cold I can barely get them to clamp around him, but somehow I do, and Benny begins hauling us back to the riverbank, one slow, safe step on the rocks at a time. ‘We’re so cold,’ I mutter, my mind blurring and my body unable to feel the water that continues to smash against me. ‘We’re so cold.’ Behind us, Fen’s whine cuts through the rush of the water and panic grips me. ‘I need to get to him! I … I …’ It’s as though I can feel the water in his nostrils. Feel Mortidem’s grip taking hold, awaiting one final tug to claim him as his own. I struggle to twist around, desperate to return to the wolf.
Yet before I can move, Benny clamps his arms around me, holding me in place. ‘We’re clear!’ he hollers to Kyor. ‘Do it! Now!’ Kyor hesitates, just a beat, but then he looks upwards and calls to the clouds boiling in the sky above.
Lightning tears down, striking the thick tree at the base of its trunk with a crack that splits the air. The tree groans, wood screaming as it begins to
topple.
I see what Kyor’s doing.
The ancient falling tree becomes a lever, dragging the vines with its huge weight. Fen’s body lurches free as the mud finally loses its grip, and for the first time since this began, Mortidem loosens his hold on the wolf.
Fen takes in a ragged, relieved breath as his paws are freed from the sucking mud, and on the shoreline, Elska drops to her stomach in pure relief.
He’s free!
I smile, even as a surge of water slams into me, knocking me sideways.
Strong hands catch me before I can go under. ‘I’ve got you,’ Benny says tightly. ‘I’ve got you, Rose.’
‘Is he out?’ I gasp, my vision blurring as I let the cold finally win. ‘Is he out? Is he okay?’ My teeth stop chattering, and I actually feel warm. Having lived in the cold my whole life, I know what that means.
I’m in trouble, real trouble. But at least Fen will live.
Not without you, Little Raven. His voice is rueful in my head, but I can feel his nearness and know he is coming closer.
I look up from Benny’s shoulder to see Fen next to me, swimming. He climbs out of the riverbed very carefully, paws touching naught but rocks.
He’s a smart wolf; he’s learned his lesson. That’s good.
I didn’t learn mine.
I’m out of the water and everyone is shouting, everything blurring into motion and noise – voices, hands, the rush of the river. They’re fussing over
me, but all I can think about is Fen. ‘Is he out? Is he safe?’ We’ll both be fine, a now-familiar voice murmurs, close and steady.
Thanks to you, stubborn Little Raven.
The cold is everywhere now – creeping into my bones, my thoughts – and my eyelids are suddenly too heavy to lift. I need to rest. I deserve rest now.
Rest for as long as it takes. The last thing I see before sleep claims me is a pair of olive-green eyes ringed with white – steady and alive.
