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We turn when Alfa comes running up to us, so fast that she is just a streak of movement in the dark of the forest.
Amara squats as we hide in the forest’s undergrowth and growls at the wolf. The wolf growls back and gives several vigorous shakes of her head.
The two exchange growls for several minutes while I figure out how we’re going to ambush the orcs.
Eventually, Alfa runs off and disappears almost instantly into the darkness of the forest.
Amara straightens up and whispers in my ear.
“Fever was hurt in the fight, but he’s fine now. There are more than twenty orcs. It looks like they’ve sent an entire army out to get you.”
Amara looks at me with clear fear in her eyes.
She wants to know who I am, who I was, and why my mere presence has garnered this much attention from my enemies.
“Kian.” Her voice shakes slightly. She wraps her arms around herself. “I’m not sure we can take them on. All we have is a spear, a knife, and a slingshot between us. How do you expect us to win this fight?”
A plan forms very slowly in my mind.
There are roughly thirty wolves in the pack. It seems that Amara’s howl with the wolves was a call for every single one of the wolves, even the loners who do not spend that much time with the pack, to come running.
The only wolves who remained behind were the pups and the wolves too old to join the fight.
“We stick together,” I whisper to her as we hide behind a large bush that is covered in thorns. “That’s how we win this fight. Stick by my side, and we will win. Can you do that?”
Amara looks down at her hands for a second and then nods her head, almost reluctantly.
It’s not a ringing endorsement, but it’ll have to do.
Amara listens to the sounds that the forest makes, and she shows me where to go with her hands, remaining silent.
I follow her directions, and she keeps a hand on my back so that I know she is behind me at all times.
We come to another stop when I realize we’re at the base of a small hill.
Amara lets out another low whistle and then listens for sounds that are on frequencies that only she can hear.
She doesn’t speak but turns to me and signals with her hands.
I may not be able to understand the wolves’ language, but I know Amara well enough to understand the language of her hands.
Five orcs against ten wolves. On the other side of the hill. Northeast.
I nod, and we run silently up to the crest of the hill. We see the orcs, who are completely engaged in fighting the wolves, and I launch myself into the air at them.
I know that Amara hesitated behind me, and I fall to my knees in front of the group of wolves who snap and growl as I interrupt their fighting.
The orcs are startled into inaction by my appearance, and I reach for the one closest to me and break his neck.
I thrust the spear through another orc’s eye and wrench it out while I kick a third orc in the groin.
The wolves have fought valiantly, but I can feel that several of them have been wounded terribly.
The wolves are strong, but their strength lies in their relentless numbers, and compared to the orcs’ size, they don’t stand a chance for a long time.
The last two orcs advance on me. I let out a strangled growl – my attempt to communicate with the wolves – and it seems to work.
Four wolves, including Tavor, leap at the orcs, distracting them. I move as quickly as I can, and I slash and cut at the orcs with the spear.
