Chapter 6

"How do you know that?" Citegrene snarled deeply at the black wolf as she staggered onto her feet. "How do you know her name? Who are you?"

"That is for me to know," he said coolly, "and for you to find out." He turned his back to her and flicked his tail towards the trees. Five large male wolves slithered out of the shadows like grasht, vampires, of pups' stories. "Come," he beckoned to her.

Appalled as she was for not scenting the newcomers earlier, Citegrene knew this was a battle she could not win in her current physical condition. Besides, she also felt a burning curiousity in her stomach, which was reason enough to follow this wolf's orders . . . for now.

The black wolf took the lead, with two wolves flanking each of Citegrene's sides and the last trailing behind her. Weaving between moss-covered tree trunks, splashing through bubbling streams, leaping over gorges that descended into what seemed like hell itself, they trekked across the wilderness towards a destination unknownf. The only thing Citegrene knew was that they were climbing up, higher and higher, seemingly to the very stars themselves.

As they crossed the beautiful terrain of the northern mountains, as the sun slowly climbed across the sky, Citegrene wondered why this particular area was still intact and shielded from pollution. It was true that there were few birds and game animals, but the flora was thriving on the sun's rays, and Citegrene reveled in the beauty of this rare oasis of nature. The great ball of fire's light struck her golden coat and made it shine like a wondrous star in itself, and her fur slowly fluffed outward as she regained physical strength. Although she still wasn't strong enough to take on six fully grown males.

Citegrene had grown up fighting off Draggas and Drappas alike in order to survive in the cruel world. She had seen and done many things that she wished she hadn't, and if it weren't for the strength-sapping poison in her blood now, Citegrene would most likely have tried to attack this strange black wolf. She most likely would have started a battle in which she had no chance of winning . . . a battle to the death.

The great wolf shook her head and inwardly snarled. Excuses. Justifications for deeds not worth justifying . . . deeds that can never be justified. Her eyes sparkling, she looked hopefully towards the sun, praying to the wolf god Fenris, to whom normally only males prayed, to be forgiven. Citegrene didn't feel any better. She wondered if Tor and Fenris would ever forgive her, or if it was just herself that couldn't spare the forgiveness. That had to be it; she could never be acquited for her sins.

A jolt coursed through her body as she ran straight into a hard, furry wall. The black leader whirled around and snarled, "Keep your mind in the present, Drappa!"

Citegrene tensed, her mouth gaping. He gave her one long look, then leapt onto a nearby rock. Was his comment mere cooincidence, or did he know something more? Did he know about her past? She scoffed at herself. Of course he couldn't know. But how did he know that she was thinking about her dark secrets from long ago?

The night had fallen around them. Citegrene had hardly noticed, being so consumed in her thoughts. The black wolf scented the wind from his perch and snarled. He jumped down quickly and howled, "Keep moving. We can't stop for long."

Citegrene sniffed the air. Nothing came back except the scents of the forest. Confused, she slowly padded after her captor.

Night broke into day, and in turn, day fell into night once more, the continuous cycle of the world. Their journey was long and arduous, and food was scarce. But somehow, however he did it, the black wolf managed to catch just enough prey for them all to survive. This puzzled Citegrene deeply, for the dark one was very strange indeed. Game was unnaturally attracted to him. And he had never given his name to her. None of the other wolves seemed to know it either. She pieced this together with what she already knew about him.

A howl of shock rose in her throat, but she quickly suppressed it. Could this wolf possibly possess the . . . No, it just isn't possible! It hasn't appeared in the world for countless generations . . . No! It must be extinct from the Lera, the wild animals. It has been way too long for it too reappear now!

Citegrene would have spent weeks analyzing this possibility. The only thing that stopped her was, on that same day, just when the golden wolf thought she was strong enough to break free from her captors, she started to feel drowsy and weak once again. Her thoughts became clouded, and her limbs were slow to move.

The second time this occurred, she realised that her "guards" were probably poisoning her food with the strength-sapping drug they had used previously. When she came to that conclusion, the convoy had reached the highest mountains, where, even if Citegrene did escape, she wouldn't be able to survive long on her own.

With that depressing thought persistantly in the back of her mind, Citegrene spent most of her time reflecting on the past, and the silver wolf she had failed. She could feel, somehow, that Eneres was alive, but the link was faint, as if the silver she-wolf was trapped somewhere far away. Guilt consumed Citegrene every waking minute of her life, from which the only respite was sleep.

Even then, she would dream horrible nightmares of a raging fire and a dark shape, an evil grin across its face and insanity in its one visible eye. Just when the great beast turned it's head to reveal the other orb, Citegrene would wake with a startled yelp. It was so terrifying that she sometimes considered finding a way to end it all. Her only lifeline at this moment was her shaky faith of Tor and Fenris, whom she fervently prayed to almost constantly, and the sliver of hope that Eneres was still alive.

One morning, rain clouds were in the sky as Citegrene woke again from that same nightmare. Her fur was damp with sweat, and she shivered from the cold. Across the clearing where they had stayed for the night was the sentry wolf, staring at her intently. When their gazes met, he hurriedly glanced away, flushed. Citegrene had often noticed the wolves gazing at her as if lovestruck. It was sickening, yet strangely flattering. Even stranger was the fact that she had caught five of the male wolves in the act. The black wolf never showed any undue emotion. That might explain the reason they are being more civilized towards me. Though he didn't share his brethren's infatuation with her, the black one had lessened the amount of times he snapped at Citegrene, and had even toned down his insults some. It's probably just because these whelps have never seen a wolf of my kind before. And so, she reassured herself with that thought. She'd hate for it to be because of something else.

All of these many emotional problems built up in Citegrene's heart, making her sick to her very soul. It seemed that Tor and Fenris were blocking their ears to her pleas, and she felt that death would be very welcome. Depressed, and with that very thought of suicide in her mind, the wolf group reached the crest of the highest of the many rolling hills between mountains and looked down into the valley below.

Citegrene was ripped from her thoughts as she inhaled sharply. It looked like Fenris himself had taken a bite out of the earth and left an enormous circular bowl. Lush with greenery unknown to the rest of the mountain passes, trees dominated its rolling splendor. About ten miles in the distance, water cascaded down a steeper side of the valley, plunging into the river below it, which in turn carved downwards to the lake in the center. Its beauty would have been even more uninmaginable if the sky was clear of clouds.

Close to thirty wolves resided on the bank nearest the wolf party. There was naught one among them that wasn't busy with something: sharpening teeth on stones, practicing fighting skills, organizing hunting parties. It was the largest amount of wolves Citegrene had ever laid eyes upon, and she was both tremendously excited and terribly scared for her life.

Suddenly, the black wolf threw back his sleek head and howled a greeting that echoed around the valley. Four shapes broke off from the main pack and ran up the hill towards him. Silence returned Citegrene's captor as the emissaries gruffly streaked upwards and halted in front of him. They growled as they saw Citegrene, and one stepped forward to address the black wolf.

"What's this? You were supposed to have brought her here nearly a fortnight ago. Rekoj is not going to be pleased, and most likely it will be my hide that is tanned. You don't want that to happen," he growled, his fur bristling outwards.

The black wolf glared back at him coolly and replied, "There were . . . difficulties. And I shall bring the message to Rekoj myself if you are so worried about your scrawny hide. It seems more than pups need protecting around here."

Glaring with such a fierceness that Citegrene tensed for a fight, the messenger wolf turned and sprang back down the hill, howling an announcement of the long-awaited arrivals to the other wolves with poorly hidden anger.

The black wolf grunted in amusement, then leapt forward, the rest of the males quickly following. Citegrene was pulled along with the throng, and grudgingly ran down the hill. "Where are you taking me?" she yelled into the breeze.

"To Rekoj." The black Dragga gave her an unreadable glance, full of sympathy and something like . . . fear? When they reached the bottom of the valley, they turned as one towards the trees. Lush undergrowth whipped past Citegrene's face as the small company sprinted through the forest.

After several minutes, the wolves slowed and came to a halt before the ruins of a once grand human shelter. Thick vines crawled through crevices in the stone walls, climbing upwards towards the sun. The ceiling was still intact, but dusty bricks were crumbling into powdery heaps at the base of the ancient walls. Crows ominously cawwed from their perches on the roof, their beedy little eyes hungrily gazing down at the wolves.

Some of the males impatiently pawed the ground and snorted. Citegrene stared ahead blankly at the ruins. An enormous doorway yawned into blackness. Fear prickled up the she-wolf's spine as the tension in the clearing crawled upwards. What are we waiting for?

Someone nudged Citegrene's haunch, and she relunctantly padded towards the gaping hole. High pitched maniacal laughter echoed darkly from within, causing the crows to scream and fly away in a flurry of feathers. Citegrene whipped her head around to glance nervously back at the wolves behind her. The black one nodded slightly, and indicated that he alone would follow her inside. With a fluttery nervousness knotting her in the pit of her stomach, Citegrene gingerly placed a paw through the doorway into the darkness, thinking all the while that, if the past few days had been bad, she was now entering a whole new ring of hell.