Free Wolf Hunting by Jane Lindskold Page B

elsewhere as well. It left the surrounding area eerily silent. Even the insects and frogs made no noise. Even the waves lapping the beach seemed to do so tentatively, so as not to draw attention to themselves with their grumble and hiss.
    Plik realized that the hum of magic that had vibrated his bones a moment before had died with the brilliant light.
    “Aren’t we going after them?” Rascal said pleadingly, and for the first time Plik realized that the young wolf had been trying to push past, but that he and Powerful Tenderness had unconsciously moved to block the now open door.
    “I think we wait,” Powerful Tenderness said. “Someone must remain to guard and to keep the door open so they may return.”
    “Or,” added Plik, feeling a tremble of apprehension at the thought, “in case such comes forth that we must close and hold this door forever sealed.”
     
     
     
    ALTHOUH STILL REELING WITH SHOCK that she had been right—that blood and not mere tools would be needed to unseal the silver door—Firekeeper did not fail to feel Truth surging to her paws and gathering to leap through the now open door.
    Firekeeper had expected something of the sort if they did indeed manage to open the door, and without conscious thought she leapt after. When she landed, she felt fresh blood dampen the bandage she had tied around her leg, but no great amount of pain. Abstract pleasure that she had calculated so exactly raised her spirits as she bolted into the darkness that had been concealed behind the silver door.
    Firekeeper’s night vision was very good, but the brilliant glow that had accompanied the unsealing of the door had left her temporarily night-blind. Truth, gifted as all cats were with an inner eyelid, did not suffer the same penalty and charged ahead.
    Behind her, Firekeeper heard a dull thump as Blind Seer landed in the trench, but she did not pause in her pursuit of Truth. Blind Seer could track her by scent. Truth could see in the dark. She alone was handicapped here, and could not give up any advantage. A moment later, she felt the heat of Blind Seer’s breath on the back of her legs, a sniff as he checked her wound, the warmth moving beside her as he came around and took point.
    She let him do so without protest. That’s what pack mates were for—providing strength and skill you yourself lacked. Firekeeper no more lost status for letting Blind Seer go ahead of her than she would have if she let him pull down an elk she had driven into his range.
    “Truth’s scent is still hot,” Blind Seer said. “Can you track me if I go faster?”
    “In a moment,” Firekeeper assured him. “Go ahead. I will follow as swiftly as I can.”
    The blue-eyed wolf did not ask if she was “all right,” as a human certainly would have done. He trusted the evidence of his nose, but that didn’t mean Firekeeper would escape his scolding for her impulsiveness—that would come later. For now there was the hunt, and the hunt was all.
    Firekeeper followed, finding that the surrounding area was not completely dark. They had passed from one space into another—she could tell, for the echoing of sound changed—and in this area where sound was more muted, and her feet fell upon what felt like thick carpeting, light glowed dully from above.
    Glancing up, she saw pale blocks of stone such as she had seen in other buildings crafted by the Old Country rulers. These were artifacts, used to give light without the need for fire. She had seen such dead and useless, and she had seen such restored to life. These seemed to be nearly dead, but Firekeeper was glad for their faint glow. Had she been reared like the Wise Wolves to pray, she would have offered a brief prayer of thanks. Having been raised without such, she passed under and on, merely grateful.
    The light was brighter still up ahead, bright enough that Firekeeper could see Blind Seer as a shaggy outline, though the greys and browns of his coat hardly differed from shadow. Ahead