Chapter Two: New Faces
“No!” Jeera cried, running, running towards Kumar and Toomay, sleeping innocently in their beds, “Stop!” She leaped at the midnight black wolf advancing on her humans. It’s blood red eyes shifted from the humans to Jeera. A deadly shiver ran down her sides as Lionel bared his teeth threateningly, moving away from her humans and towards her. Snarling, he met her head on, ripping, slashing at her flesh. Pain washed over Jeera. Bitter pain…
Jeera jolted awake, ripping herself out of the horrific nightmares. How long have I been unconscious? She wondered. Well, at least two days, she thought as her senses recognized the cage Keyar had originally put her in.
“Nightmares?” A deep voice drifted to her ear. It was somewhat familiar, and, amazingly understandable. Jeera couldn’t get a glimpse of him since the wall between them was a thin sheet of metal, but she pricked her ears and swiveled them towards the voice.
“You’re a wolf?” Jeera asked incredulously, her dark eyes reflexively shifting about in search of the voice’s owner.
“Airies, Search and Rescue Captain for the Council of the Wolves, and you are Jeera, the council’s best Halamenon.”
“Why are you here?” Jeera asked as she turned and began to lick at the scabs that had begun to form on the numerous scrapes that were scattered along her side.
“I was captured, like the rest of my team. We were outnumbered.”
“Great plan, just come in and storm the place with what, ten wolves?” Jeera’s tone was thick with sarcasm as a small wave of nausea washed over her.
“Fifteen,” Airies spat back.
“Big difference,” Jeera said as she turned to inspect her injured leg.
“Where are we?”
“I’m not sure, somewhere south of New Castle. We’re trapped in a dog training facility.” Jeera replied, dismissing the change of subject as she cautiously stretched her leg.
“For obedience?”
“Dog fighting. To the death. If you’re still alive after you lose the humans here will either kill you or not treat your wounds so you die of infection,” Jeera said absentmindedly as she stretched her leg again.
“Nice place. Any ideas on how to get out?”
“Yes,“ Jeera said as she turned back to the divider between them, ”there’s a boy-“ She stopped short as the strong smell of spirits that was rapidly becoming a familiar scent alerted her of Tumbleweed.
He strode in, Keyar at his side. “Well Keyah, tuh she wolf looks ready to knock some heads. And tuh wolf looks ready too. Fix ‘em both up wit’ Sheerit’ in tuh high pen.” Tumbleweed sneered at Jeera with a twisted smile. Turning around he took a swing at Keyar, making him duck. “Git to it, ‘oy!”
“Yes Master Tumbleweed,” Keyar said. He shuffled over to Jeera and Airies; eyes downcast as a string of unintelligible curses flew from his lips.
“Keyar, this is Airies, he was sent on a rescue mission so that I could get out. Now do you see how important it is that I escape?” Jeera asked, trying to disguise the impatience and frustration that danced in her eyes and laced her voice.
“Why are you wasting your breath? Untrained humans can’t understand us.”
“There, just pretend the new wolf is right,” Keyar muttered fiercely, wrenching open the rusty kennel with a jerk and clipping a chain leash onto Jeera’s newly acquired collar.
“He can- you can understand her?” Airies gaped in disbelief.
“So what?” Keyar spat, opening Airies’s cage and fastening him to a lead.
“So what? So what? You can-“ He left his sentence open ended as Jeera gave him an icy glare. Silently, Keyar set off for the high fenced training pen. Jeera let the boy think; she knew he needed time. But time was so precious. Jeera sighed and resigned herself to once again inspecting her surroundings.
As Jeera and Airies walked side by side, she noticed he was not much taller than her, an inch or so at the back, but that was not surprising since Jeera was tall for a she wolf, two feet eight inches at the shoulder. His finely chiseled face was splashed with white that ran down his chest, underbelly, and underside of his tail and the inside of each muscled leg. The top of his head, ears, sides, back and top of tail were coated in a mixture of brown, gold, auburn, and black, speckled with a few small white spots.
Airies also took the time to take in the appearance of the Halamenon that he and his team had risked their lives for at the specific request of Garnier herself.
Jeera was a tall she wolf with a bright white coat. She wasn’t heavily built or bulky, she was slender but well muscled. Her piercing, electric blue eyes were the most interesting. They were deep and intelligent. As they walked towards the pen, Airies was unnerved to see that they changed colour. They didn’t just change shades from the different light angles, but they actually changed colours. When they had started walking, her eyes had been a deep blue, now they were dark with scarlet flames dancing around her pupils. Jeera caught him staring at her eyes; she knew how unnerving some found them. Still, she didn’t like staring. She was just about to snap at him when Keyar gave their leads a light jerk. They were almost there.
The two wolves stared at the advancing high pen with intimidating, twelve foot high chain link and cruel, twisted barbed wire that stretched along the inside of the fence with two strands that coiled above the top of the chain link fence. The bleak atmosphere didn’t improve as a dismal howl echoed throughout the building, fading off into oblivion as the howler drew a last, rasping breath.
“Ha! That she mutt was the one who almost got away from old Tumbleweed? Well she can’t get out of here, can she boys?” A foul smelling man sneered, making his way through the small gate. This man was bigger and broader than Tumbleweed, a hulking monster of a human being.
“She’s got more brains than brawn, that’s all.” Keyar said automatically. Jeera glanced up at the boy and flashed him a mischievous grin, which he ignored.
“That’s what you and Tumbleweed need, Sheerith, brains!” A very brave man stated, drawing tentative laughs from the three other men who stood ready to train the two wolves.
“Ah shaddup Hinks! Unless you want your brains smashed in?” Sheerith growled. The littler man gulped and shook his head frantically.
“I've got to get going, Sheerith. Here.” Keyar handed the man their leads, but not before Jeera glanced a brief flicker of sorrow pass behind his guarded eyes, “go do what you do.”
“Aye, we will,” Sheerith grinned cruelly, yanking in the wolves by their collars. Kneeling to unclip the well-worn leather leads, Sheerith called for the others.
“When you’re free just dodge and run,” Airies said to Jeera.
“I’m not letting you have all the fun, it’s rare that I meet a human that ever deserves to die,” Jeera said, taking off for the group of men jogging over.
“She wolves,” Airies muttered as Sheerith unclipped him. As Sheerith’s oversized hand left his collar, the wolf turned swiftly on his haunches, sinking his fangs into the man's meaty hand. He smirked as the human screamed in pain and outrage. Airies let go just as Sheerith’s heavy club came down where his head had been. But instead of hitting his head, it hit the man’s hand with such force that a sickening crunch echoed through the barn. Sheer pain twisted with hot rage smeared heavily upon Sheerith’s purple, spluttering face. Airies let out a laugh mixed with a growl before lazily loping to the far side of the arena, watching with mild amusement as the huge, once threatening figure huddled protectively over his smashed hand.
Jeera wasn’t having the luck of Airies. The men were surrounding her. They were like snickering, sneering little rodents that lunged with clubs and chains for long, yellow teeth. And Jeera hated rats.
Jeera ducked, dodged and maneuvered, attacking at vulnerable, unprotected arms and legs. Hinks had caught his chain in the fence, the perfect target if there wasn’t three others to worry about.
“Need some help there?” Airies called as he raced across the ring.
Jeera grunted a reply, keeping her intense focus on Hinks.
Rolling his golden eyes, Airies drove the three men away from the one that was still struggling to free the chain from the top barbed wire strand. Like singling out the old or sick caribou from the herd, Jeera’s instincts flooded her mind, taking control of her limbs and snapping jaws. This was what separated wolf from human. No two legger could hunt like this, not even with all their supposedly superior intelligence. Jeera paced before the unarmed being. Hinks gulped. He struggled for his chain desperately.
“Sheerith! These wolves ain’t just defending! They’re hunting!” The man cried, sweat trickling into his eyes. Jeera saw the fright in his eyes. She saw terror gripping at his throat. She sensed the horror. Worst of all, she smelt it.
Suddenly, her mind was taken back. Back in time. She saw Kumar and Toomay cowering on the ground beneath a horse. She remembered that day. The day the mad stallion had tried to attack her humans. She remembered the fear she had smelt on her humans, on herself.
Now she saw a scared child before her in the arena, not a scared man. An unarmed man who was terrified was no one to harm. Suddenly she didn’t want to attack him. The strong hunting instincts subsided; almost human-like logic replaced them. Jeera turned off at a run to help Airies, leaving the man alone to fight the chain down.
She came up, silent as a mouse, behind the men trying to avoid Airies’s death grip. Lunging at a leg, Jeera crunched onto the warm calf muscle. Her teeth raked the man’s bone and sliced through tendons. Crying out in pain the man turned, trying unsuccessfully to hit her off with his club. Jeera wrenched on his muscle, tearing the flesh. His leg crumpled beneath him and he sunk to one knee. His fellow humans turned to beat off the angry she wolf. One of the two left armed and not wounded men screamed in agony, accompanying the man Jeera had latched onto. At the back of his sweaty neck was Airies with a savage death grip, dangling at his back and holding on with his fangs.
The arena was in chaos. One man huddled over a crushed hand. Another wanting to help his fellows but had no weapon. Two being held prisoner by pairs of huge fangs and big jaws with killer grips. The last man trying desperately to beat off two wolves, one behind and one in front.
“Stop!” Boss shouted, not screamed but merely shouted. It had great effect, that one shout. It seemed that the whole barn full of men stopped in mid task and held their breath. The air was silent, heavy with anxiety. Even the dogs stopped snarling and whining. But not the wolves. Airies’s team growled menacingly from their scattered spots around the barn.
Jeera and Airies snarled, eyeing the man with distaste.
“Tumbleweed,” Boss called, ”fetch me my stick.”
“Aye sir,” Tumbleweed said humbly. He quickly trotted off then ran back with a hard, sleek black cane without the hook. On the top of the cane was a small, round, smooth piece of crystal with a skull cleverly imprinted in the middle. Striding over to the wolves, Boss held this stick cruelly, smacking it into his hand over and over. First he bent down to Jeera. Kneeling, he shoved the end of the stick into her mouth. Then he used it as leverage to loosen the animal’s grip on the bloody flesh. Tumbleweed swiftly snatched her collar and yanked her over to the other side of the arena where he clipped the leash onto her collar and handed it over to the one man she had spared. Then Boss pried Airies off of his dead enemy.
“Well, you all did your jobs. These beasts are ready to fight. Don’t you think?” Boss announced lightly, dismissing the fact of his dead employee with the slightest of shrugs. The men were silent. Grave. “Take those things back to the bigger kennels. They’ve earned the right to be spoiled.”
Tumbleweed huffed in disapproval but clipped the lead onto Airies and took Jeera’s from the other man in spite of himself. Stomping off in a sulk, Tumbleweed tried to push the dead man behind him from his mind. He tried to forget the two murdering beasts he held within his grasp.
“Dumb, stupid aneemals! Make me work like da lil’ boys ‘round ‘ere do,” Tumbleweed growled. Jeera glanced back at the arena with a twinge of satisfaction mingled with regret. It wasn’t natural for her to murder humans, the gods, Luna and Tatorak had not intended for her and her kind to destroy the breed that had once been their companions. But still, those men weren’t humans; they were monsters that needed a reprimanding. Jeera and Airies had delivered their own form of punishment.
“Down graded to chain boy again, Tumbleweed? Handling wolves to difficult for you?” Niron snickered at him as they passed the arena Jeera had escaped from.
“Ah, shaddup. Tis she wolf ‘ere jus’ beat da ‘ell out of da men back at da high pen. Da udder wolf killed Lutka,” Tumbleweed paused as the other men stepped back from the wolves slightly, murmuring quiet prayers, except for Niron. ”Even tough tey were hurt, tey succeeded in trainin’ tese two. Unlike one group of men I can tink of,” Tumbleweed snapped, his Trebian barely distinguishable.
“Having some trouble with your grammar, Tumbleweed? Is that little snaggle tooth of yours affecting your speech?” Niron sneered.
“Ma language is ‘etter tan your patetic Trebian,” Tumbleweed shot back.
“Stick to your Langarian if you wish. But just remember that you’re not in that sniveling, ‘pathetic’ country you call Langaria, anymore,” Niron smirked. Tumbleweed clenched his jaw, eyeing the Trebizondian with hate and mistrust. He was the same height as Niron, and definitely bulkier. But the other man was lean, wiry, and very well muscled. Tumbleweed clenched his teeth as Niron snickered, “Run along now Tumbleweed, Boss might be wondering why you’re up past your bedtime.”
Bubbling with anger, Tumbleweed carried on to the bigger kennels, towing Airies and Jeera by tight leads. Choking and coughing, the wolves followed.
Settling down in their kennels, they watched the human traffic slow as many numerous humans and dogs walked past the open stalls. Dusk fell swiftly bringing dark, gloomy shadows from the nearby mountains pouring into the barn. Some men, obviously gifted in a little amount of magic, spewed different colours of a substance from their hands.
Magic; the curse and blessing that had spread over the world when it was born, especially in Trebizond. About three in ten Trebizondians possessed some. It’s mysterious and entrancing colour changed with the bearer’s mood. One was born with the power that hid itself within the dark corners of humans’ minds. But very few were born with the ability to control such great but difficult power. Most spent years learning to control the magic, eventually enabling them to reach into the back of their mind and bring forth the power within seconds. It was originally intended by the gods to be used as a fifth limb, a third arm. Yet countless spells were invented to mould the magic into a useful tool, varying from cooking and healing spells to battle magic. Apparently, none of the men here had learned much about their power for the substance that spewed from their hands was weak in colour and strength, not nearly as vibrant as other, more educated men. The dull magic flew up towards the ceiling. After a moment, a dim light illuminated the barn. Boss was too cheap to spend his trebs and gilders on fuel for torches, and always made sure some of his employees were gifted enough to light his barn.
Jeera curled up to one of the walls of her kennel with a low moan. She heard Airies stomach rumble in chorus with her own.
“I still have that disgusting taste in my mouth from that man’s neck. Do you think these ones actually bathe?” Airies asked, disgusted with these cruel beings but still trying to scavenge some morsel of human meat from between his teeth to satisfy his appetite. Jeera was disgusted as well, maybe even more so than he was.
“Rarely actually. Bathing is a privilege here, all water is spared for the animals. Here, eat these. It’ll help get the taste out and heal all those bruises you have,” Keyar said, sliding in a slab of juicy, raw meat into each of their kennels. His denial was crumbling despite his stubbornness. The thought of having someone to talk to was too enticing to ignore after all the years he had suffered in solitude. Besides, magic did exist, he knew that as instinctively as he knew that water was wet and the sun’s rays were warm. Couldn’t this just be some form of ancient magic? Even if this wasn’t real, if he was just imagining it, he could still indulge in the pleasures of company.
“Thanks,” Jeera whispered, too weary and troubled to acknowledge his half acceptance of wolf tongue.
“No matter how strange you and your shifting moods are, your meat is delicious,” Airies grumbled, his fangs already shredding the steak as if it were butter.
“Are you all right, she wolf?” Keyar asked. Jeera nodded as she licked at the meat delicately. It did taste delicious. It tasted like…freedom. Sweet and pure. Like good dreams and waking up to Kumar and Toomay.

Notalent

January 19, 2011 at 9:46 PM PST

This is action packed. You would be a great screenwriter. I can see the movie of your words in my head. You are going to add more to this story and not keep me in suspense, right??