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Chapter 38

    The two dire wolves held their ground above the prone hunting party as Quizlivan tried to figure out what would be the best course of action.  If they ran, they would be chased.  It had been said that one did not have to outrun the pack, they only had to outrun the slowest human.  But he would not do that.  He was not willing to sacrifice anyone.

    But the younger wolves had formed a half circle around them, half hidden in the darkness and the snow, dark shapes against the falling flakes and glowing eyes.

    “What?” Ahnah asked, “What do you want?”

    The largest of the wolves raised her head and sniffed the air, but the effort seemed as if it tired her.

    They were all so tired.  Quizlivan understood.  He had been that tired, once, before he met Morgani.

    “There is no food,” the matriarch of the dire wolves said.  “Not here, not for us.  Maybe never again.”

    Quizlivan reached through the snow,grasping for the people at his side.  If he ran, he could pull them with him.  He had always been the fastest.  One hand settled around Ahnah’s and she glanced at him as if she thought he was a fool before turning her gaze back to the wolves.  His other was taken and squeezed by the strange, smooth, dark flesh of Morgani’s gloves.

    “You’re hungry,” Morgani said, leaned forward, and studied them.  “Sharp teeth…  binocular vision…  canids, right?  You’re omnivorous?”  he glanced behind him, as if he could see through the cloud of snow without the oculars, as if he could see the dragons beyond.

    The wolf followed his gaze, then tilted her head to study the strange man.

    “Hey,” Ahnah sat up as well, then pulled herself into a crouch, squeezed Quizlivan’s hand before she let go to tug her furs more tightly around her.  “Do you know what this is?”

    The wolf took a shaky step forward and sniffed the garment.

    “Boar,” she said, and opened her mouth as if she intended to bite.

    “Stop!” Ahnah demanded, “And think about how I got this!  I have the flesh of a boar because I was stronger than it was!  I have this because I killed it!”

    “And it keeps out the cold,” Quizlivan said helpfully, “We’re not just like…  crazy…  we don’t wear the skin of our enemies for no reason.”

    “That’s the exact opposite of help!” Ahnah hissed at him, and he fell silent.

    “These humans,” the queen of the dire wolves’s companion said, “take down prey bigger than themselves, bigger than their whole pack.  Tell them why we have come!”

    She growled at him, and to Quizlivan’s shock, he growled back.

    “Tell them!” He implored.

    “In the forest beyond,” the queen said, “a pack of dragons is feeding.  The slow, lumbering ones, not the skittering flying things.  We have sent scouts.”

    “So have we,” Ahnah told her, “We know this already.”

    “Their herd is thin,” the queen continued, “they are on guard.  There are no members they will be willing to lose.  Our pack is hungry…  we are weak…”

    “I’m gettin pretty hungry,” Quizlivan mumbled.

    “Oh,” Ahnah seemed to understand, and would not force the Queen the indignity of asking, “My…  my pack is hungry too, weak.  We’re both- what was the word, Morgani?”

    “Omnivores,” Morgan said.

    “Right,” Ahnah said, “And there is too little green to feed us.  Divided we starve.  United-”

    “We feast,” the queen said, took another step forward, and shoved her face against Ahnah’s.  She kept her head lowered and did not open her mouth.

    Quizlivan watched as Ahnah lifted her hand, and began to stroke the thick fur along the queen’s mane.

    Xaxac opened his eyes and was confused when he did not see sixty flowers.

    He saw Agalon, sitting across from him, writing furiously in the book he often carried with him for that purpose.  He felt the world moving around him, and took in the details of the carriage slowly as the dark world filled with snow faded.

    “Aggie?” he asked, and Agalon’s eyes darted to him.

    “Just try and sleep, Honey Bunny,” he advised.

    “Did…  did I shift?” Xac asked as he shoved himself to a sitting position and felt his vision dance back and forth as his empty stomach screamed in protest.  He didn’t have the energy to remain upright and fell back onto the seat.

    “Yes,” Agalon said, “You must be plumb wore out.”

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    “I ain’t wore out,” Xac protested, “I’m hungry.”

    Agalon closed the book, set it on the seat next to him, then got up and knelt to retrieve something from under the seat.

    “Well, darlin, if you can hold out a few more hours we’ll be at the house,” he explained as he pulled out a package wrapped in a handkerchief, “But I know how hungry you get.  Here, this is about all you’re gonna get till we get home.  Sorry, darlin.”

    He stood and offered the parcel to Xaxac, who took it happily.  As soon as Agalon took his seat again, Xaxac pulled himself up and stumbled across the small distance to sit next to him.  The sun was setting past the carriage windows, and the repetitive expanse of the agricultural district whisked past them.

    He unwrapped the package and found it to be full of crackers, which were as bland as Agalon had led him to believe, but any port in a storm.

    Agalon went right back to writing, even with Xaxac leaning on him, so once Xac had swallowed he asked, “Whatcha doin, master?”

    “I’m trying to draft an official engagement announcement,” he said, “For Lorry.  I ain’t good at this.  Women folk are better at this kinda stuff.  But…  we ain’t got none.”

    Xaxac thought he knew a great many women, but he knew what Agalon meant and decided against suggesting any of the people he was thinking of.  None of them would likely be any good at writing announcements, given the debilitating handicap of illiteracy.

    Instead, he chewed his crackers until he had the strength to sit on his knees and look out the back window.  He saw a second carriage following them, but it wasn’t being driven by Bobby, but by Aymar, and Omylia was once again riding on top of the carriage in what had to be some kind of breech in safety protocol.

    At least the fighters weren’t walking.  Some of them were in no shape to walk.

    He sat back down and ate another cracker in contemplation.

    “Aggie, you’re real smart,” he said, because it was a fact.

    “Thank ya’ kindly, darlin,” Agalon replied without looking up from his work.

    “Did you ever hear tell of a time when it snowed?” Xaxac asked.

    “Snows ever winter, darlin,” Agalon said as if Xaxac may be annoying him but he was trying to hide that fact with relative success.

    “I mean for a long time,” Xac clarified, “like…  for longer than a winter…  like for years, a real long time ago.  Like maybe for so long almost everythin’ died.”

    “Oh,” Agalon said, “Did you hear that at the rodeo?  There’s some historians and priests what say there was an ice age.  I mean, it’s still an ice age, as long as there’s ice at the poles it’s an ice age, but in the holy texts it says that the whole world got covered in snow one time, for years like that.  Was somebody preachin at the rodeo?  I…  I oughta go to the temple more than I do.  Or, ya know, at all.”  He shrugged and went back to writing.

    “Was that some kinda devilry?” Xac asked, “Did the devil do it?”

    “In a real roundabout way,” Agalon explained, “Thesis did it to punish- well…  us.  Elves.  We didn’t do what we was told and protect the world so he damn near wiped it out, started over, and told us to get it right this time.  So far, so good.”

    Xaxac nodded and ate another cracker.

    “You ever hear tell,” Xaxac asked again, speaking softly and trying to look more sleepy than he felt, “Of anybody name of Quizlivan?”

    “Not right off,” Agalon said, “Is that somethin you heard at the rodeo?”

    “I can’t remember,” Xac said, “It’s just…  stuck in my head.  I thought it was pretty.”

    “It is pretty,” Agalon agreed.  He seemed to finish whatever he had been writing, closed the book with the pencil inside to mark his place and folded his hands over it in his lap, then thought better of it and tucked it into the bag at his side and held his arms open.  “Come here, Honey Bunny.”

    Xac crawled into his lap and asked as cutely as he could manage, “Can I have somethin to drink?”

    Agalon dug around in his bag until he extracted his flask and handed it over, “Not a whole lot left.  But we’re almost at the house.”

    Xac nodded and tried to ration the whiskey.  The crackers made his mouth so dry…

    “Last night was the best you ever been shifted,” Agalon praised, “You done so good.  Alex slept on top of you.”

    “I like Alex,” Xac swore, “I wouldn’t never hurt Alex…”  he took another swig of whiskey and continued, “‘Specially not now that I know how easy humans die.  We die real easy, Aggie.  And then one day everybody what ever knew us will die, and it’ll be like none of it ever happened.  I don’t remember the Viper’s real name.”

    “Sometimes I envy that,” Agalon said as if he was admitting some sort of secret, “The transient life, the short memory…  I wish I could just up and forget…  pert near half my life.  The middle part.”

    “I think the secret,” Xac explained, “Is drinkin a whole lot.  It might not work for elves, but it makes me forget stuff.  I like it too, bein able to forget.  I hate thinkin, Aggie.  I think too much sometimes.  I just wanna lay drunk.”

    “That’s all I got on me, darlin,” Agalon said sympathetically, “I’d give it to ya if I had it.”

    “I know,” Xac ate another cracker and snuggled further into his chest.  “You’re so good to me.  I love you.  I’m lucky to have you.”

    Some time passed in silence between them as Xaxac felt the world move around them, felt Agalon breath below him, and listened to the soft sound of the horses’ hooves, of the wheels against the cobblestones, of the lamps beside Lee knocking against the side of the carriage.

    “You…  seemed like you had fun in the cage,” Agalon said.

    “I did!” Xac displayed his enthusiasm before he caught himself, “They loved me, Aggie!  They loved me!  The whole arena chanted my name!  They hollered for me!  I’m Bunny Foo Foo!  I won and they loved me on account of it!  I wanna go again!”

    Agalon stared down at the hope in those big brown eyes and reached to scratch at Xac’s scalp, to run a hand through his hair.

    “You scared me in that first round, darlin,” he admitted, quietly and with great sincerity.

    “But I heal!” Xac begged, “I’m a survivor!  My- Abe always said I was a survivor!  You can’t keep me down!  And they all loved me!”

    “They did love you,” Agalon said, “The crowd loved you.  You want to do that again?  You’re…  I didn’t…  reckon you’d take so good to it.”

    “I wanna go again!” Xac begged, “I wanna…  they was chantin my name!  They loved me!”

    “We’ll see,” Agalon promised and kissed the top of his head.