Trail of Bones: A Young Adult Fantasy Novel (2 page)

“Rawrf!” boomed a deep groan just beyond the obscured tree line. Chains rattled as something of considerable size and weight shifted out of sight, beyond the forest clearing.

“Oh shut up!” Korwin blasted back. “Can’t you see I’m busy?” he complained as he picked up a large leg bone of raw corgan meat and tossed it in the direction of the groan. It disappeared into the blackness and landed with a thud. A moment later the flesh was slurped clean from the bone, and the eater tossed the remainder back into the light where it landed a few feet from Korwin.

“Now be quiet; I need to concentrate. The spell will definitely work now, you’ll see,” he said as he stood in front of the Shade Wolf and the stone altar. He resumed his former pose: his head thrown back and his arms out. And then in his native elfin tongue, he uttered the words of the incantation again.

“Entula tuulo’ i’ba, Beleger!”
he shouted. On this attempt, however, he brought his arms together, just over his head, and held the unicorn horn dagger in his hands. With one quick and powerful thrust, he plunged the weapon deep into the wolf’s thick hide.

A loud yelp pierced the still night air as the dagger tip penetrated straight through the beast and struck the hard surface of the stone altar. Korwin watched closely, staring at the wolf’s eyes, waiting for the spark of life to return. With a hard jerk, he pulled the weapon free of the wolf’s body.
That’s right beast, taste the night air again. I am your master now,
he thought as a new-found confidence surged through him.

****

A series of long, haunting howls echoed through the forest and the night sky. Adolphus nervously looked in the direction of the continuing symphony of yowling wolves. Somewhere, deeper in the forest, the pack was at their den, and something was not at all right.

He had never heard them howl for so long and bark so loud. He was scared but did his best to hide it. So he bravely held up the torch with one hand and firmly gripped the bone handle of his dagger with the other. He would defend the village to his last breath and sacrifice his life if necessary.

Adolphus was only seven years old, but he stood alone atop the wooden watchtower. The young barbarian was a spry, big-boned lad who stood nearly five-feet tall. His hair, black as the night sky, and was tied into several long braids that hung below his shoulders. His skin was dark brown, but smooth and unblemished. The muscles in his arms and legs were well developed. His chiseled, strong jaw made him look older than he was, but he still had the heart and mind of a boy.

Suddenly, a large hand slapped his shoulder, startling the young Adolphus so that the torch slipped from his grip and slid down the front of his buckskin, nearly catching him on fire.

“Father!” he yelled as he adeptly caught the torch before it hit the ground. “That’s not funny, and you shouldn’t do that to a watchman.”

“So you think you’re ready to be a watchman now, is that it?” said Chief Thayne Draghone.

“I’m old enough. You told me once you were only five when you stood your first watch,” said the boy, defiantly.

“I did indeed. The youngest of our tribe to do so, but the number of seasons had nothing to do with it. I earned the right. I was ready. Are you?”

The boy looked down, not happy or prepared for his father’s question. But after a moment, he returned his father’s scrutiny.

Thayne Draghone was the chief of Thornmount Village and possessed an imposing presence. From head to toe, he stood seven feet tall, which happened to be average for his kinsmen. But it was his strength and bulk that separated him from the rest. His neck was as thick as the waist of a human, a distant cousin of his people, and his biceps were as big as their thighs. His legs were more like tree trunks, and his hands could rival the size of any bear paw in the forest. Like his son, his hair was black and his skin dark. But while Adolphus’ youthful skin was absent of marks, Thayne’s was riddled with nicks, cuts, and scars both deep and long. One healed gash ran down the left side of his chest to his right hip. How he survived such a horrendous injury was anyone’s guess. But his bulky bearskin coat covered many other battle wounds.

The wolves started again, crying in the distance, one by one until at least a dozen voices joined the noisy song. Adolphus shuttered.

“Something’s wrong, father. I’ve never heard them like this. Have you?” the boy asked as he peered into the thick vegetation of the forest.

“The Shade Wolves? Only once before… on the night you were born,” answered the chief.

The boy spun back to his father in disbelief; this story had never told.

“No games, Father. You speak the truth?” he asked.

“I would not lie to you, boy. After all, that inspired your name. ‘Adolphus, noble wolf,’” Thayne said, exhibiting a tremendous pride.

The howling peaked to loud crescendo as the many voices synchronized in canine harmony. It was as if the wolves were speaking as one thunderous voice, and the deep baritone call was perfectly united until it abruptly stopped. A moment later, the individual howls began again, as before - starting and stopping independently.

“What’s wrong with them, father?” the look on the boy’s face went from curiosity to concern. “Are they hurt? Are they in pain? Perhaps they are angry, and will strike the village.” The boy’s youthful emotions were getting the better of him.

Thayne placed his hand on his son’s shoulder to calm his troubled child.

“Easy, boy. It is none of those things. It is a celebration. They cry to the gods to rejoice,” the chief instructed his voice calm and collected.

“A celebration?” said a very confused Adolphus.

“Tonight they welcome a new litter to the pack. The first in… well, seven years. For the pack this is a most important and wonderful event,” said the chief.

“You mean wolf cubs? I’ve never seen a wolf cub before. I would love to see such a thing,” the boy said, a new-found energy to his voice.

“Have you ever seen a Shade Wolf before, boy?” asked Thayne.

The boy paused and thought a moment. He knew this was not a simple question and he also knew it might reveal a recent transgression if he told the truth. The boy’s father could sense his hesitation.

“Well, boy, speak up! Your chief asked you a question, and your tongue best not deceive your father,” he said sternly.

“Just once, Father, near the base of Thornmount,” answered Adolphus.

Most of the Mythik Forest was an endless sea of trees, bushes, ferns, and vines. Thornmount, however, was a series of jagged rock formations jutting from the forest floor. A vein of salt and pepper colored granite had bubbled up long ago and left a trail of stony outcroppings, ridges, and caves carved in and protruding from the hillside. Some of the old ones said it was the birthplace for the Mountains of Badek, but the forest fought back and forced the range to claim its home far to the east.

Thornmount’s networks of caves and crevices offered a near impenetrable shield of granite, providing an ideal home for any number of wild creatures. The Shade Wolves, however, staked their claim long before a single log was hewn to build the village below. Their dens littered the top of the mount and only the bravest of souls, or the most foolish, wandered into their territory. The wolves were the top of the food chain in the forest, so much so that when other predators meandered through the woods, they would quickly find themselves outnumbered, outmatched, and at the mercy of countless fanged jaws.

In was also no coincidence that the village was built in close proximity to Thornmount. At the base of the mount, visibility was excellent as trees could not push roots deep enough to overcome the granite slabs. These large clearings provided an unobstructed line of fire. Enemies were exposed as they traversed the open ground, and the fissures and textures of the rock made siege weapons and heavy horses a difficult option.

The other side of the village sloped south toward the River of Ash and east to the Pool of Sorrow. So, in addition to the natural defenses, invaders would have to battle uphill to secure the higher ground before taking the village. Large watchtowers lined the western and southern ridges, some taller than the highest tree, which provided an expansive field of view.

Lastly, if enemies chose to go around Thornmount, they would have to deal with the Shade Wolves.

“You’ve seen a Shade Wolf? While the sun was overhead?” Chief Draghone asked. The boy nodded. “Then you were too close to their dens. I thought we talked about this Adolphus? You could endanger the entire village with your foolish desires.”

“But you said the Shade Wolves are our friends. That they protect Thornmount and the forest just as we do,” the boy said.

“True, but neither man nor beast likes it when an intruder comes to his home uninvited. And with a new litter coming, you’re lucky they didn’t tear you apart and feed you to the cubs for their first meal.”

Surprisingly the boy did not back down. Mildly irritated, the chief still admired his son’s conviction and passion. “I did no harm, father, I swear it. He even spoke to me. He warned me to go away,” Adolphus said with the excitement only a boy could display.

“And what did this Shade Wolf say?”

“He said run with purpose.”

“And did you?” the father asked.

“Of course. I’ve never run so fast. When I made it back to the village, the wolf was gone,” Adolphus said excitedly.

Thayne Draghone bellowed with laughter, and put his massive arm around his son.
They all fear what they do not understand,
he thought.
That is why you are chief.

“You still have much to learn, young one. Listen closely, son, for this is truth,” he said as he knelt next to his boy so they could see eye to eye. “Run with purpose is not a warning, it is an ancient wolf saying.”

The boy was perplexed; this was not at all what he thought happened during his brief encounter with the wolf. “I don’t understand. What does that mean?”

“Run with purpose. It means do not waste energy, life, seasons. When you hunt, hunt until your prey is in your jaws. If you fight, fight with all your strength until your win your enemy’s throat. If you love, love until your heart stops beating. And if you must run, go swiftly until you run with your pack once more. This is the way of the wolf. This is the way of the warrior. And I pray to the gods it will be your way too,” the chief explained.

Adolphus looked back in the direction of the wolves with a new understanding and appreciation. His fear vanished, replaced with admiration and a sense of wonder.
I want to see a Shade Wolf again. I’ll be brave,
he thought.

“Come boy, the night grows darker still. Your mother will whip your hide… and mine if we don’t return to the cooking fires soon,” said Thayne.

“Can’t we stay a while longer? I want to listen. I wonder what they’re saying now, Father,” said the boy.

“When the sun rises I’ll travel to their den and pay my respects. I will offer gifts of meat and corgan entrails in celebration of new life. I was hoping my son could accompany me, but I fear if he doesn’t find his bed soon, he’ll be too weary,” said the chief.

He barely finished his sentence before the boy scrambled down the watchtower and scurried toward home. The father chuckled as he watched his son dash away.
Run with purpose, young one. Now you’re getting it,
he thought.

CHAPTER 2

Korwin could not take his eyes off the black beast. He nervously bit his lip as he waited with anticipation.
Why is this taking so long? I know I performed the ritual exactly as the book instructed,
he thought.
It has to work.

Large snowflakes slowly drifted down, and a crisp winter breeze picked up. The wind mussed the fur coat of the wolf, but the beast did not move.

“No, no, no!” Korwin said in a rage. “This can’t be happening to me!”

First, he checked the dagger to make sure the blade was secured to its hilt. It was. Second, he looked through the passage of the tome one more time, mumbling the words of the incantation to himself. They, too, were correct.
Those devils! They tricked me. They knew all along; they knew it wouldn’t work,
thought Korwin.

The elf had been calm up to this point, focused on completing the magic perfectly. But now his frustration and temper boiled over.

“Liars!” he screamed as he threw the unicorn dagger into the dark of the forest.

He shoved the ancient book off the altar and started pummeling the lifeless wolf with his pudgy fists. He acted like a spoiled child angry with parents who would not buy him a candy or toy. He swatted at one of the torches, tore at his tunic, and kicked his pack, spilling it contents everywhere. Still the wolf lay motionless.

“Ha…ha…ha,” came a raspy laugh from the darkness, followed by the rattling of chains. “Elf no wizard…ha…ha,” continued the voice in words that were garbled and barely understandable. “No dagger… no magic sword.”