Chapter Nine: The Wolves

“Damn it!” Lochen cursed. “He got away!”

“No chaff!” Kistoph replied. “Those two suddenly poof! What else you thought happened?”

Lochen ignored him, and instead dashed toward where Cymon and the wind taper had vanished. He studied the ground. Picking up piles of salt, Lochen studied the glimmering material.

“A warper,” Lochen commented.

“A what?” Finneas asked, approaching Lochen.

“A warper,” he repeated. “It’s a teleportation thing. It’s… well… you wouldn’t understand.”

“Understand?”

"I'll explain later," Lochen replied. “But we need to find Cymon first. He mustn't have gone far. Warper only allows a person to transport themselves a short distance away."

“Any idea?” Kistoph asked, towering above Lochen. Like Finneas, his friend was trying to get a good glance at the ash remains. “Directions maybe?”

Lochen shook his head.

“I’m not some know-it-all,” Lochen replied. “I only know the prince is nearby.”

“Great!” Kistoph bemoaned.

“Hey!” Lochen barked. “There’s no point yelling at me. I’m not the one who’s kidnapped Cymon.”

As Kistoph and Lochen bickered, Finneas noticed something rummaging through the trees down below. Although faint, he could hear someone pulling something along. Atop the treetops was a bluest mist.

“I think I know where they went,” Finneas interrupted the quarrel. “I think they’re down there.” Finneas pointed to where he saw the bluest haze.

“Does a warper cause blue smoke?” Kistoph asked.

“Blue smoke?” Lochen responded. “I think so?”

“You think so?”

“I said I wasn’t an expert.”

Finneas ignored the two. He also ignored the pain stabbing at his foot. While Finneas didn’t exactly trust Cymon – with the Water Taper abandoning them back in the temple, and him not revealing his true identity as a prince – Finneas had started to grow fond of him, finding Cymon as a person he could approach for guidance. Despite all that’d happened, Cymon had helped them anyway. After all, he did protect Finneas from the guards. Finneas had no intention of abandoning him. At best, he could at least return the favour and save him from whoever had captured him.

At first, Finneas attempted to make his way down the steep slope as carefully as possible. His heart pumping like a mad galleon, and an eagerness to find Cymon, cause Finneas to sprint down the hill. This was a bad idea. As usual, he wasn’t paying any attention to what was in front of him and instead relied on gut instinct. It took only one rogue rock to cause Finneas to trip. The boy uncontrollably fell raggedly down the hillside. Finneas tried his hardest to stop tumbling, but as he descended Finneas continued to thump along the ground. His head hit something, causing him to blackout for a brief moment. The next thing Finneas could remember was his friend towering above him.

“You okay?” Kistoph asked, before helping Finneas back onto his feet.

“Better than I ever been, I think," he remarked somewhat sarcastically. Not only were his feet in pain, but his entire body was also aching. “Where’s Lochen?”

“Nearby.”

Just as his friend spoke, Lochen crept up from behind.

“Speak of the devil,” Kistoph commented, after being taken by surprise. “Don’t do that again!”

“We need to hurry,” Lochen ignored the other boy’s remarks. “I think I know where the sensor took Cymon.”

Lochen pointed southward. The sun was beginning to rise, allowing Finneas to make out the silhouette in the distance. Another abandoned temple, perhaps.

“You sure?” Finneas asked.

“Just a hunch,” Lochen replied.

“You don’t feel confident?” Kistoph observed.

“You got better plans?”

Kistoph shook his head.

In a mad dash, Finneas and Kistoph followed Lochen as they hastened towards the abandoned temple. Finneas make an effort to dodge every tree branch that scattered their path. At least one branch caught hold of the knitting of his jumper. Finneas affrightedly waved his arm outward in an attempt to knock the branch away. This caused the branches to snap, whipping him in the eye. Although it stung like hell, Finneas was unconcerned. While his body wanted to stop, adrenaline forced him to keep doing.

Kistoph suddenly stopped, causing Finneas to almost collide with his friend. It took Lochen a moment to realise his friends had stopped. Kistoph was panting heavily.

“Why’d you stop?” Finneas asked his friend.

Kistoph didn’t respond immediately.

“Why should we help Cymon?” he spat. “He didn’t back at the temple. Why now?”

“We’ve not the time for this.”

“Time for what?” Kistoph yelled rather forcefully. “Helping a guy who’ll abandon us anyway? I say we return to town and find a ship on our own. We don't need Cymon.”

Just as Kistoph turned around, with the full intention of returning to the seaside town, growling began to be heard. Panted breathing circled them. The sound of small feet pattering grew closer and closer.

“Wolves!” yelled Lochen. “RUN!”

Finneas and Kistoph quickly followed Lochen who was now gallantly sprinting away, making his way back towards town. They were able to make a few yards before being forced to stop. The pack had them surrounded. There didn't seem to be any room for escape. Wolves appeared from the forest growth, their blood-red fearsome eye staring penetratingly at the three boys. They sneer their teeth as they drew closer. Snappishly, one of the wolves readied itself in a crouching position. Finneas noticed an opening. Before the wolf could pounce upon them, he made another mad dash. The other boys followed. The wolves began to howl.

Being driven by fear, Finneas ran as fast as he could, not paying much attention to whatever was on the ground. Not only was the sun only beginning to rise; the red light in the far distance almost obscured his view. He was barely able to see what was in the near distance. Unexpectedly, the three boys stumble over at the same, plummet face-first into the dirt. Finneas looked to see what had caused their fall. Someone had set up some tripwire, a length of rope tied between two trees. The forest growth had become so tall it'd become impossible to detect the wire. There was no way they would've seen that coming.

Dread dawned upon Finneas, realising the wolves were closely approaching. He quickly got back on his feet. Before he could run, however, he noticed his friend Kistoph was struggling to get up. His friend had sprained his ankle. Finneas rushed to help Kistoph, aiding him as he got back on his feet. By now, the wolves were nearly upon them.

From the corner of his eyes, Finneas notice Lochen kneeling. The Native boy had placed his fist onto the ground, clenching the grass. As if in a deep trance, he’d closed his eyes. This bewildered Finneas. At a time like this? Finneas was unsure how to react. However, he had no time to worry about what Lochen was doing. Both Kistoph and he had to stop the wolves at all costs. Searching the ground, finding something to strike at the wolves, he noticed medium size stone. It was large enough to perhaps knock out one wolf, or at least, warn them to leave them alone. He quickly grabbed hold of the stone. Making sure his aim was right by steadying his arm, Finneas pushed his hand forward in one might thrush, throwing the stone at one of the wolves. It hit the greyest wolf straight in its nose, causing it to freeze for a moment. The wolf whined, somewhat, before growling even more aggressive. Whatever Finneas had done, it certainly didn’t discourage the wolves. It might’ve stunned the wolf somewhat, but it made the creature angrier. They were continuing to approach, although now slightly cautious. Their fur prickled up like daggers.

“That didn’t work,” Finneas said.

"You don't say," his friend replied.

Kistoph, however, had managed to pick up a stick. He waved at the wolves, threatening the things with one almighty whack if they came close. To help his friend, Finneas threw more stones at the wolves, directing his attention to whichever wolf Kistoph was defending against. Each time he was able to hit the things head-on, causing them to become temporally dazed. Although it stopped the wolves from coming close, it certainly wasn't discouraging them. Finneas quickly realised their efforts weren't working; it only further angered them.

By now, Lochen was glowing with a green fluorescent aura. The Native boy breathed heavily. His eyes opened suddenly, staring forcefully at the wolves. He didn't seem to blink. The ground began to rumble. The wolves were now starting to retreat as if sensing something was about to occur. Lochen now appeared to be in pain. He poured out a massive yelp, crying with a great bellow. The ground shocked even more. Finneas and Kistoph dared not approach him. Finneas was even finding it difficult to stand with all the shaking.

The wolves were beginning to act nervous; desperate whining as they retreated. As the ground continued to violently shake, the wolves quickly turned tail and run. Before they could get away, however, giant vines came down from the tree above, grabbing hold of the wolves. The vines dragged the wolves in the air. The wolves were then slammed onto the ground, whamming them with great force. The impact killed them instantly. The dead bodies of the beasts' lifeless bodies were scattered on the forest ground. Parts of the ground had even been unearthed. Lochen fell to the ground. He looked light-headed, and certainly worst for wear.

“You’re a Terra Taper…” Kistoph said rather obviously.

Finneas wasn’t sure what to say. He barely knew how to react.

“You didn’t ask,” Lochen said, breathing heavily.

“We didn’t think to… how the heck can we trust you now,” Kistoph said harshly as if betrayed.

Finneas decided to intervene.

“He at least saved us…”

“We were in danger,” Lochen said defensively, as he got up. “I’d to do something.”

Before the three could breathe a shy of relief, the sounds of heavy footsteps approaching shocked the ground. Finneas froze like a statue. The others were also too scared to move. These were people… full-grown people… huntsmen perhaps.

“You hear that?” one of the men muttered.

“The sound of wolves whimpering,” the other replied.

“Sounded like someone gave them a real pondering. You heard the ruckus, right?”

The two men drew closer, now in eyesight. They became aware of the three boys, who were still standing there. Finneas thought about running but decided to stay still. He still didn't know whether the men were a threat or not. Perhaps they saw Cymon and the Wind Taper? Maybe they could give them directions on where to look?

“Hey, you three! Don’t move a muscle!” one of the men yelled, drawing his sword. He'd been caught off guard. "Tell us who you are? Friend or foe?"

“Calm down, Davis…” the other man said jokingly, “they’re just kids.”

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As the two men approached, Finneas was able to get a better look at them. One was a common folk, like Finneas and Kistoph, while the other was a Native. Both men looked haggard, their faces appearing older than they probably were. Each man wore a fur coat to protect themselves from the harsh weather. Finneas noticed orange armbands, signifying who they were.

“You're rebels," Finneas spoke aloud, although he didn’t intend to.

“Should we be concerned?” the Native man said.

Finneas was unsure if the man was being seriously, or at least half-joking. Finneas remained as stiff as a stone. He was still unsure whether to trust these men. He’d heard all sorts of tales about the rebels in the north, how they would kidnap people and hold them for ransom. He wasn't sure if those stories were true, but he was willing to test if there were validity to them.

“Davis,” the other man remarked, “they’re unarmed.”

“What about that clatter? You could hear it from a mile away I'm sure,” the man, who Finneas understood to be Davis, remarked. "You heard it, right? How can…" he looked down at all the bodies of the dead wolves "…someone did that."

“Strange… indeed?” the non-native rebel said. He stood down to inspect the wolves. The three kids remained still, unsure whether to move or not. "No stab wounds. Blunt force. Definitely. No weapon." He stood up, facing the three boys. "Who are you?"

“We’re from the nearby village,” Finneas lied. “I’m Jaxson; my friends and I were scavenging for firewood. Our father is sure to want us home soon.”

“You live nearby?” Davis asked. Finneas wasn’t sure if these two men had bought the lie. “Is there a village nearby, Pip?” He turned to his friend.

“There’s Hilding,” the other man seemed to ponder aloud. “I remember there being another village… what’s its name?”

“Rot-Bodden,” Lochen suddenly said. “That’s where we’re from. It’s up the river… you can’t miss it.”

“The name rings a bell,” Davis replied. “Is it on the map?”

Map? Finneas thought. He hoped Lochen knew what he was talking about. Pip drew out of one of his pockets a folded-up map. The man carefully studied it.

“Looks like Rot-Bodden’s real,” he said. “Shame you’re story’s a bunch of chaff. Who are you really?”

Finneas decided it was best to open up with the two men. There was no point in lying. It wasn't like he was good at lying anyway. On many occasions, he would try to come up with an excuse with matrons, such as explaining why he'd not made his bed, which would be quickly foiled. Finneas learnt quickly it was best to not lie to a grownup. The matron would make him clean the dishes every time he was caught telling fibs.

“We’re from Angluem,” Finneas came clean. “We’re looking for a guy… a Native. We were, well… travelling with him. Have you seen him? He probably with a Sensor…"

"Now that's a story so outrageous it has to be true," Pip roared in laughter.

“So you saw him?” Finneas asked optimistically.

“Sorry sonny,” the rebel replied. “Haven’t seen anyone like that. If there’s a Sensor around, it’s probably best not to mess with them.”

“It’s important,” Lochen said demandingly. “If you can’t help us, then we’ll better get going.”

Lochen was about to walk away when Pip grabbed hold of his hood. The Native boy bolted quickly, but once the man spoke, he stopped to listen eagerly.

“Hold on,” Pip said. “Just cos we’ve not seen anyone like that doesn’t mean we can help.”

“You can?” Finneas asked.

"Just point us in the direction," Davis responded. "Where'd you see him last."

Although Finneas was unfamiliar with magical devices, he knew very well pointing in a specific direction wasn’t going to work. They'd already wasted enough time. From what they knew the Sensor had already gotten away with Cymon. But at least they could try. And they now had help, with was a benefit.

“He used a warper,” Finneas explained. “But Lochen here says he saw smoke coming from a temple nearby.”

“Our camp?” Pip laughed.

“Camp?”

“We’ve been using the temple as our base of operation, of some sort.”

“He’s gone,” Kistoph finally spoke. "As I said, we should be getting back to town."

Kistoph was about to walk away when Pip grabbed hold of his jacket, similar to what he did with Lochen. Kistoph wasn’t all too pleased, being dragged back into the conversation. Finneas thought his friend was going to punch the rebel. Yet, he remained motionless.

"Sonny, you're not going now, are you. You seem like you're hungry," the rebel observed. All three boys nodded their heads. Although they had briefly snacked on small pieces of flatbread as they made their way up the mountain, neither of them had had a decent meal for the past few days. “Come with us. Stay for a bit,” the man suggested.

“You sure this is wise?” Davis queried.

“Couldn’t hurt much, right?” Pip retorted his friend.

“If you sure?”

The Native still didn’t seem convinced. Finneas probably didn’t blame the man. After all, they were a bunch of strange kids who’d just lied about their identities or purpose for wandering through the forest early in the morning. Finneas turned to his friends, to see what they thought. Kistoph shrugged, and Lochen looked disapprovingly. He decided to ignore their responses.

“Fine…” he confirmed. “We stay for a bit.”

The three boys followed the rebels as they returned to their hideout. Before they knew it, the group had reached the temple. It was very much like any other stone structures they’d come across; the millennia had battered down the building. Although it was one of the smaller temples, the two rebels had turned the place into somewhat of a home, similar to Lochen’s people. The moment Lochen saw the temple, his face slightly lit up, as if it’d brought back memories.

The rebels had placed lines of rope around the temple which they used to dry their laundry. Finneas quickly noticed a few crates in the room’s corner, similar to those they’d discovered in the sewers back in Angluem. Finneas decided not to comment on them. It was more than likely coincident.

Davis carefully lit a fire just outside the temple's entrance, making sure the flame was far enough away from anything flammable. The boys quickly gathered around the fire. Pip handed each boy a bowl of boiling stew. They eagerly ate their meals in silence, besides the slurps as the brew entered their mouths.

“The name’s Finneas, but you can call me Finn,” Finneas spoke, finally coming clean on his identity. “My… friends are Kist and Lochen.”

“That’s your real name?” Davis interrogated.

"It is, we promise," Finneas replied.

Pip stared at Finneas intensely, as if studying his facial features. It made Finneas feel somewhat uncomfortable. But he didn’t bother complaining.

“You sure you’re no imperial?” the rebel asked.

Finneas shook his head. What was the man going on about? Of course, Finneas wasn't imperial. He was descended from the free folk. He was like any other kid around that area.

“No,” he responded.

“Well that nose says otherwise,” the man commented. “It’s an imperial nose. We don’t like imperial, do we?”

“We sure don’t” Davis replied. From the tone of the man, it was obvious he had a grudge against the republic.

“I ain’t no imperial!” Finneas exclaimed defensively.

He usually never lashed out like that. The thought of being an imperial disgusted him. Although they were part of the republic, Finneas was always taught the imperials took over by force. No one in their right minds would admit to being an imperial; not in Estmere anyway.

“Just kidding,” Pip roared a boisterous laugh. “Just kidding.”

Finneas briefed a sigh of relief. He was somewhat glad the man was joking. No one had ever brought up whether Finneas looked like an imperial before. Someone would have at least said so if it was true.

“So, you said you were looking for someone, a Native,” Pip asked them. “Mind if I ask you who he is?”

“He was just some guy we were travelling with,” Finneas explained. He wasn't sure how much he should tell the two men. Although rebels, and were not sympathetic towards the Sensors, Finneas couldn’t trust them; not yet at least.

“So where are you travelling?"

“Travelling?”

“Yeah… you mentioned you were going somewhere,” Pip continued prepping him for answers. "Is it alright to ask where are you travelling?"

Finneas glanced at his friend, hoping Kistoph's reaction would prompt an answer on how to respond to the question. His friend’s face remained as still as a rock. He probably didn't know whether to say anything at all either. Finneas was the only one stupid enough to strike up a conversation with the two rebels.

“The Riverlands…” Finneas stated simply.

"Interesting," Pip reacted. The man seemed perplexed yet intrigued. “May I ask why you’re going there?” Finneas shook his head. “I guess you have your reasons. I assume you’re no rush.”

“No… not really.”

“Good… good. May I suggest you stay here for a bit? Perhaps your friend might turn up. You never know.”

For a brief moment, Finneas thought about taking up the rebel’s offer. But quickly glancing at his friend told him this mightn’t be a smart idea. Kistoph and Lochen seemed eager to get going, whether to look for Cymon or other reasons.

“We’ll stay the night, I s’pose, but we better be going in the morning,” Finneas responded somewhat apologetically. He didn’t intend to have that tone; it just came out that way.

“No hard feelings,” Pip said, sounding disappointed. “Stay the night at least.”

No one spoke a word after this. They finished eating their meals in silence. Pip handed some shortbread for the boys to dip into their soup. Finneas thought about where Cymon may have been taken. Because they were a good distance away from the Sensor, back on the summit, Finneas was unable to get a good look at the person. He remembered the man having brownish hair; very different from the Sensor he'd confronted in the orphanage – Lucien, he recounted the name. How many Sensors were there in Estmere at the moment? Finneas dared not to ask.

Although Finneas was sitting on the cold dirt, he was able to get a reasonable night's sleep. He awoke to the smell of bacon. Atop the stove, Pip was sizzling slices of ham. Back in Angluem, Finneas had neither eaten the stuff. Bacon was seen as a delicacy, something a person wouldn’t waste by feeding a bunch of orphans. The smell was delicious. It tasted even better.

“Back to town, I presume?” Pip mentioned. Finneas nodded his head. "If you need help, you know where to look."

Despite the rebel's insistent on the three kids remaining, they thought it was best to start their journey back to town as soon as possible. Pip gave them a bag – the man said it contained enough bread to keep them going for a few days. Finneas suspected Davis was glad to get rid of them since he simply groaned as they said goodbye. He was still unsure what the rebels were doing. They appeared to be spying on something, or someone. Finneas thought it would be rude to ask, especially after their hospitality.

Since there was no way to track where Cymon had been taken – warpers were very good at hiding their trails, according to Lochen – the group decided to stop looking for the Water Taper. At first, Lochen didn't appear too happy with the decision. But after some discussion, Finneas was able to convince him it was the right thing to do. Finneas argued searching for Cymon could put them into further trouble. Because a Sensor was involved in the exiled prince's capture, it was too risky to confront him just in case they gained the ire of the Order. All three kids were familiar with the ruthlessness of the Order. Finneas remembered the older kids in the orphanage telling them about the time a group of Sensor sacked an entire city just because they harboured some rogue Tapers. Whenever a child misbehaved, the usual threat aimed toward the child was that a Sensor would come a take them. The simple suggestion would cause the kid to straighten up their act.

Travelling through the masses of trees, the group managed to come across a makeshift path which lead them towards the main road, the seaside highway that connected Angluem and Hilding. When they first journeyed to Hilding, Cymon had insisted on the group avoiding the main road, just in case, the group encountered a patrol or checkpoint. They were prepared to sneak around any guards, but much to their luck they didn’t have to do worry. There was a few travelling merchants, but no sign of any guards.

As they travelled, Finneas noticed someone had left a bunch of tree branches on the roadside. Since they had been abandoned, Finneas methodically checked each stick, making sure they were the right one for the task. Being satisfied he'd found the right branch – the stick he choose was both straight and sturdy, the least likely to break – Finneas continued following his friend using the branch as a walking stick. Although the pain didn’t go away, using a staff allowed him to ease the weight of his foot. All he needed now was to find a spare pair of shoes.

It was getting dark, and they’d not even reached the town yet. Hiding under a tree, the three decided to stay there that night, with each boy keeping watch throughout the night. Using some flint he’d found along the road, Finneas lit a small fire. He was barely able to create a small ember, but it was enough to keep them warm for the night.

To pass the time, each boy took turns telling stories. It was quite fascinating listening to Lochen weave his tales. Even though Finneas had heard these before, Lochen’s different upbringing brought new insight. Lochen recounted the story of the prophet who was eaten by a crocodile only to be resurrected by the Maker.

Finneas decided to tell the group about the legend of the Stone of Fire, and how it brought two tribes together. It was Teller’s favourite story; he would always read it aloud sometimes before they went to sleep back in Angluem. Teller borrowed the book so many times, that the librarians got tired and insisted he kept it. By all accounts, the story was based on true events, which occurred thousands of years ago, when elves still walked the land. The story detailed how two boys from different tribes were forced to journey together to save the world from a global cataclysm by bringing two stones, one of ice and the other of fire, to a temple in the north. They lead a group mixed of different people from each tribe. Although the groups would bicker, and occasionally come to mortal blows, they were able to succeed by throwing the stones into a giant endless pit. Finneas decided not to include the ending, where the truce between the two groups ended, which caused the two tribes to continue warring against each other until both were completely wiped out.

The next day, they continued their journey north. They managed to reach Hilding around midday. Although the town's inn was full, with no spare rooms available, the innkeeper allowed them to sleep in the common room. The man also mentioned how some other kids had arrived the day before. Finneas didn’t pay much attention to the innkeeper, however. He was too tired and simply wanted to lie down. Making himself comfortable on one of the couches, Finneas drifted asleep.

Waking up, Finneas found Kistoph and Lochen amid an argument. It wasn't hostile by any means – they were debating the correct way to reel in a hooked fish – but Finneas wasn't too keen to get involved. Although he knew his friend was right, Finneas simply wanted some quiet. Leaving the two to bicker amongst themselves, Finneas thought it was best to go outside just to get some fresh air.

Outside the inn was a bench, on which Finneas rested. He took a good look at the town. Although he missed the bustling chaos of Angleum, the tranquillity of Hilding was refreshing. Although they’d managed to stop the Wind Taper, or whomever the person was who’d kidnapped Cymon, it was still raining. It was less heavy than before – a light gentle fall – yet it’d caused everyone to hide indoors. Only a few people quickly moved from one building to another, to avoid the downpour.

Finneas was dazing off for a bit when he noticed a small shadowing figure walk past. While the person had a cloak on, with the hood pulled over their head in an attempt to obscure their face, the way the figure was moving seemed familiar. Finneas recalled what the innkeeper had said; that there’d been a few new kids arriving in town. Although he hadn’t paid much attention to what the grownup had said, which was pretty usual for him anyway, something clicked in his mind. Finneas stood up and began to follow the person, trying his best not to seem suspicious. Finneas also placed his jacket’s hood above his head, although he did so to stop the rain from dampening his curls. He quickly drew closer, about a few inches away. Placing his arm forwards, he grabbed hold of the figure’s hood, pulling it down, revealing the person’s face.

“Teller?”

His brother’s best friend was standing there in the flesh. Finneas was certainly not imagining it. The younger boy was about to dash away, but Finneas was able to grab hold of him, stopping him from running away.

“It wasn’t my idea,” he snivelled. “Kenelm wanted to look for you?”

“Kenelm’s here?”

“Err…” Teller murmured. He was about to make another dash for it, but Finneas was again able to grab hold of him, this time pulling tight at the boy's dungarees. Teller’s clothes were damp and muddy.

“Take me to my brother,” Finneas demanded. “I want to see him now!”