The first three days passed uneventfully. True to his word, Captain Bechard and a few of the other guardsmen, and even Jasper attempted to teach Victoria to wield a sword. Unfortunately for the skilled swordsmen, she was woefully inept with a blade. She wasn't born to it as they were, and the weapon was heavy and awkward in her hand. Soren, on the other hand, was as giddy as ever to be among so many skilled fighters with whom to spar and sharpen his own skills against.

  While more or less useless with a sword, a bow was another matter. Despite her age, Astrid was expertly skilled with longbows and short bows alike, and volunteered to teach Victoria what she might. As it transpired, she possessed a natural gift for it, much to Astrid's approval. The first handful of clumsy shots gave way to several near-perfect ones. The guards were quite impressed with her inherent ability, and Jasper smiled with pride as he would to one of his own.

  "Now that is hidden talent!" exclaimed Remy Lussier, youngest of the guards.

  "If that's what you consider 'average' young Miss, then I'll wait in great anticipation to see that skill develop," another guard, Victor Leroux, added. He had been listening when she described herself as such days before.

  "I'm inclined to agree," Astrid said with an approving smile. "If your skill only improves, I daresay you'll surpass me by the end of this. You're sure you've never trained at this before?"

  "Positive," Victoria replied, blushing at the praise. "Back home archery is really only used by people who hunt regularly, and no one in my family hunts."

  "Well, we'll be changing that," Astrid said. "I'll be putting your skill to use. When I go to hunt, you'll come with me. Perhaps in a few days I'll test your skills from the saddle as well."

  Victoria remembered the night they fled from the imps. How the creature lunged at her and Astrid shot it down from the horse behind her. That would be pretty cool to be able to do, she thought to herself. With praise boosting her confidence, she nodded. "Alright, I'm game."

  And so it passed that by the time they stopped for the night on the third day, Astrid kept her word as well. While the men set up camp and tended the horses, she and Victoria rode back and forth, testing her ability to shoot astride. This, Victoria came to find, was going to be much harder to master than simply standing still and aiming at a motionless target. Learning how to stand in the stirrups while simultaneously gripping with her legs and trying to align and fire a halfway steady shot while jostling around on horseback proved much more difficult than Astrid made it look.

  "Don't be discouraged," Astrid said. "It took me far longer than this to get it right. I didn't expect you to be perfect the first time."

  "I guess I kinda got myself pumped up about it with how naturally archery came to me. I thought this would come just as easily," Victoria replied, a bit crestfallen.

  "Hey, you didn't fall off, and you didn't accidentally shoot anyone. That counts for something as far as I'm concerned." Astrid smiled companionably. "Come on, it's getting too dark to find the arrows. I don't know about you, but I smell food and I'm starving. We'll practice more tomorrow."

  After a filling meal and light conversation, everyone broke off to their tents and the guards took up a two-man watch. Nestling herself into her bedroll, Victoria's eyelids grew heavy. She hadn't realized how tired she was, and before she knew it, had drifted into blissfully dreamless sleep.

  The next day it rained, and their progress was slowed considerably as they were forced to wait out several periods of torrential rainfall, finding such shelter as they might beneath the trees. Despite its inconvenience, Victoria couldn't help but find the storm itself beautiful to behold. Bolts of blinding blue lightning split the darkened sky and thunder cracked and boomed, echoing far into the distance. During the times when the rain ceased they hurried to cover as much ground as they were able to before the downpour would begin anew. Even so, the sheer amounts of water had washed out parts of the road and the horses struggled to pull the wagons through the muddy ruts.

  "Well, hopefully we'll at least reach the river-crossing by nightfall," Captain Bechard said, not too optimistically.

  The rain had finally ceased for what they all hoped was the final time as the sky began to lighten and tiny patches of blue could be seen here and there through the gray swath above. If the weather held out, they would reach the border of the elf kingdom of Eralia less than two days after they crossed the river. From there it would be less than a week to reach Astheas, where they would convene with King Naverion to discuss and plan their passage through the kingdom of the elves.

  The rest of the day remained overcast, but the rain had moved on, much to the relief of the soggy travelers. The clouds too began to clear, and the sun finally came through in time to begin its descent toward the horizon. The mud-slushed road crept closer to the river they followed, swollen to near overflowing its banks by the day's nearly constant rain, and ahead they could just see the bridge that spanned the larger river . Reaching the crossing before dark lifted the company's sodden spirits and the pace quickened as they all eagerly sought to rest and dry their soaked gear.

  As they drew near to the bridge, something in the air shifted, causing the horses to prick their ears and prance nervously. Something had come to stand in the road between them and the bridge. Captain Bechard halted the company, drawing his sword and summoning his men to the front of the caravan. They moved quickly with swords drawn to form a line between their wards and the thing before them. Jasper and Soren also drew their swords, and Astrid readied her bow. Despite her newly discovered skill with a bow, Victoria found herself paralyzed with fear at whatever it was that stood before them. The being began to slowly creep toward them, making itself fully visible.

  It was huge black wolf, twice the size or more of any normal wolf, growling with bared fangs, and glowing red eyes. From the trees came two others, coming to stand on either side of their leader. The sinister-looking creatures barred the road, growling with lowered heads, daring any one of them to attempt to pass.

  "Everyone, dismount if necessary, but do not allow yourselves to become separated!" Captain Bechard called out as he and his men dismounted and readied themselves. "Ready weapons!"

  The wolves charged, and the guards moved to engage them, following their movements as they moved to flank them. The wolves snarled and howled as they were met with swords and arrows, men grunted and screamed as teeth snapped and tore flesh. One of the guards, Louis Bousquet lay unconscious, his right leg torn nearly to the bone as he was flung away. Young Remy Lussier's left arm dangled uselessly, wrenched from the socket and bleeding.

  Riderless horses squealed and fled, while those still mounted and harnessed panicked and strained to do the same. The front wagon guard, Adrien Cellier, heaved a spear that nearly pierced one of the wolves clean through, bringing it down. Another wolf limped and snarled wildly, its foreleg nearly severed. With its attention on Captain Bechard, Jasper lunged from the side to deliver the death-blow to the beast's neck.

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  When the initial chaos of the fight ensued, Ozan made Victoria, Soren, and Astrid move between the wagons to give them some measure of protection from the wolves. A refuge that proved short-lived as the terrified horses attempted to bolt. They did their best to keep the animals in check, but the screams of wounded men and wolves drove them to disregard their handlers. The wagon horses lurched forward, shoving Victoria's mount to one side. Victoria's mare threw her from the saddle and bolted, leaving her sprawled on the ground and exposed. Soren and Astrid tried to get to her but the horses would not obey, and the horses harnessed to the wagon reared and kicked wildly, keeping them separated. The last wolf locked his menacing red gaze with hers and charged, dodging the thrown spear and swinging swords, and blind to the arrows that pierced its back and sides.

  Everything seemed to move in slow motion as she stared wide-eyed at the beast that was charging straight for her, teeth bared and snarling. The stone around her neck began to glow, and without thinking, Victoria raised her hand with a soundless "NO!" As she did, a bolt of fire shot from her palm, striking the wolf head-on, and its now charred body slid to rest mere inches from where she sat trembling on the ground. At that moment, she could do little more than stare at her hand, feeling the residual heat and watching the steam that rose from her palm. The sounds of shouting and moans of pain around her seemed distant. Soren had left his horse and ran around the back of the wagon, dropping to his knees and grabbing her by the shoulders.

  "Victoria! Are you alright?!" His jade-and-gold eyes were bright with fear.

  For several heartbeats she couldn't find her voice to respond, still staring in shock at her hand. When she managed to look up into his face, she gave a hesitant nod. "I-I think so."

  He gasped a sigh of relief and embraced her tightly. As he did, the reality that she was just nearly killed by a giant wolf crashed over her and she began to sob into his chest, gripping onto him as if he were a lifeline. He held her there on the ground, making no attempt to move or disrupt her, stroking her hair and whispering reassurances that she was alright.

  The aftermath of the frightening encounter was a blur. Louis and Remy's injuries needed immediate attention, the scattered horses needed to be found, and some form of camp needed to be made before the sun set and they were all left in darkness. Ozan, with Astrid's assistance, tended the injured, Captain Bechard decided that the horses would either come back on their own or they could be sought in the morning, and instructed the others to quickly ready the tents. One of the wagons was cleared enough to hold the injured men who would not be able to ride.

  Jasper helped with the tents, and once he had theirs erected, he went around the wagons to where Soren and Victoria still sat huddled together. "Bring her to the tent, son," he said, gently laying a hand on Soren's shoulder.

  Soren shifted himself carefully so as not to dislodge Victoria's grip on his shirt, then scooped her up and carried her to their tent. He laid her into her bedroll with a careful tenderness not even he realized he possessed. He laid down next to her, pulling her close to pillow her head on his chest and resumed his protective position around her.

  She didn't try to fight his closeness, or his arms around her, or the barely detectable feather-light kissed he placed on top of her head. There had been no hiding the look of genuine fear in his eyes when he thought the wolf had harmed her, or false sincerity in his show of relief that it had not. He didn't try to take any boyish advantage of her vulnerability, but was putting forth a heartfelt effort to make her feel safe. It was working. Her terrified sobs had reduced to slight hiccups, and her heart was no longer racing. With the adrenaline passed, she could feel exhaustion creep into her bones, rendering her limbs heavy. Outside the world was growing dark, and her eyelids began to flutter as they too grew heavy.

  "You can sleep now. I'm not leaving you," Soren whispered has he pulled her closer and laid his head on hers.

  She shuddered a deep sigh, relaxing into his warm, protective embrace, and felt consciousness slowly slip away with the steady beating of his heart.

* * *

  Jasper left the two of them alone, trusting that his son would behave himself, and went to the wagon where Ozan and Astrid were working on the jagged gash in Louis Bousquet's leg. Remy Lussier lay resting in the front of the wagon, his arm had been set back in place and lay stitched and bandaged in a sling. The scent of fresh blood and herbs hung heavy around them, and Louis' face was dreadfully pale even as he gritted his teeth against the pain.

  "Will he live?" Jasper asked Ozan.

  "He lost a fair amount of blood, but so long as the wound doesn't fester and spread infection, yes he will live," Ozan replied, not turning from his task.

  Jasper let out a relieved sigh, "Thank goodness." Several moments passed before he spoke again. "Master Agarus, what manner of beasts attacked us? I've known no wolf that size and none so brazen as to attack unprovoked. Not a one of them looked starved so I'd be hard-pressed to believe that they were driven by desperation and hunger."

  Ozan looked up as he finished trying off the last of the stitches, then turned to Astrid. "Do you think you can finish him up on your own?"

  She nodded in response as she continued cleaning the freshly stitched flesh.

  Ozan descended from the wagon and he and Jasper walked over to where the carcasses of the two unburnt wolves still lay. He crouched down to reach for the creatures' eyes, holding the lids open and examining the gold irises, sighing as he stood.

  "Stygian wolves, from deep in the Waldemarian Mountains, to answer the 'what.' As to why they would be here, I don't have an answer. I am, however, of the suspicion that this was Assyria's doing. Tell me, what color were these animals' eyes when you fought them?"

  Jasper looked at him quizzically. "Red, an unnatural glowing red. You saw them the same as I did, did you not?"

  Ozan nodded. "Yet here they lie, with eyes bereft of life but of their natural color. I'll wager that the other one's eyes, if they weren't burned from its skull, are the same as these." He paused briefly. "These animals did not attack us of their own will. They would have no natural reason to travel such a distance to place themselves in our path."

  Jasper pondered the thought for a moment. "You think Assyria is somehow controlling them?"

  "I do," Ozan replied. "In the city you mentioned a raven with the same glowing eye, I suspect she is using these creatures to watch our movements and do her bidding from wherever it is she's hiding."

  "Spineless bitch," Jasper spat. "Is she so afraid to show her face that she'd rather bewitch animals to do her dirty work?"

  "Afraid? No. Assyria was never adverse to confrontation. My guess is that she feels that retrieving the stone from us will be a simple task more suited to simple creatures."

  "Well, I think that will prove that it will be no simple task," Jasper said, pointing to the charred body of the third wolf.

  "Indeed," Ozan mused. "If the girl can learn to manifest the stone's power, Assyria will have a much more difficult time using wild beasts to claim it. But, it could also be what draws her out of hiding to take the stone herself." He held up his hand as Jasper moved to respond. "Do not misjudge her. Assyria wields powerful dark magic, and my power alone may not be enough to subdue her should she reveal herself. If we are being watched, then she will know that the stone's power has been tapped into and she will stop at nothing to ensure that it won't be able to be used against her."

  "So we should expect another attack," Jasper said.

  "I believe we should," Ozan replied grimly.

  The two men stood in silence for a few moments before Jasper sighed heavily. "We should dispose of these." He motioned to the dead wolves. "I don't imagine Victoria would want to see them first thing in the morning."

  In the fading light, Jasper and a few of the guards dragged the heavy corpses to the edge of the river, rolling them into the water and watched them be carried away by the current. They returned to the campsite and Captain Bechard and Victor Leroux took up the first watch. A sense of nervous tension pervaded the encampment as everyone else closed themselves into their tents and attempted to sleep, weapons within reach. Ready for another attack that thankfully didn't come that night.