The First Wolves

17. I DREAM OF YOUR EYES

“Fidella, the wolves haven’t stopped moving, we told them that they were safe, but they carried on.” Conri sought out his mate’s advice.

“They have to keep moving for the guard in the watch tower. If they stop, he will know something is amiss, and blow his horn for the garrison to come and inspect. Everyone will be punished if this happens. They are happy. Look at their smiles, they know freedom is close, they are giving you time to free those inside.” Pea contextualised the situation.

On closer inspection, the group could see that the creases of pain were less deep, their expressions more hopeful. They were ensuring the success of the rescue by suppressing their joy. Their physical and emotional strength was beyond understanding. Conri was proud to be welcoming such brave wolves into their pack. His warriors, now dressed in red cloaks, copied the patrols of the guards they had watched, cracking the whips against the stone far from the poor souls still moving the rubble. Otto took a vantage point to ensure all seemed well. Despite their fear and trepidation, the ranked wolves followed Pea up the unwatched side of mine. The sight that awaited them made their skin feel cold.

Pointing down at a narrow pleat that was barely noticeable amid the dense rock that was bulging around it, Pea explained it was the start of the path that would lead them to the wolves inside. Jenny had become pale at the thought of cramming her body into such an unforgiving gap. Mirroring his mate, Jerrick was shuffling his feet, clearly reluctant to stuff himself into the mouth of the earth. Images of himself becoming lodged in the monster’s oesophagus made it difficult for him to swallow. He didn’t want to be the first to object, but his fearful expression spoke volumes. Ewan was too enthused to consider the danger, he had already started to remove his sandals like Pea had told him to.

“It’s OK, Jerrick, we will need someone to hold on to the rope so we can guide ourselves back out. You guard our exit. Keep it unobstructed.” Conri instructed his two Deltas, mindful that they were new parents, and their safety had to be assured. Pea slid her legs into the miniscule crack, then lay back holding on to the edge of the protruding rock above her.

“Do as I do,” She stated, before pushing herself through the wrinkle in the rock face.

The ranked wolves studied her movements before allowing themselves to be gulped down into the earth. The rock was dry and sharp like small incisors, causing little nips on their skin, although Pea didn’t have a mark on her. The Luna noticed that her bottom and the back of her legs were wet from the stone beneath her, as if she were sliding along a slippery tongue, the saliva coating her tunic. Pea was waiting for them all where the gap expanded, and they were able to stand, or in Conri’s and Ewan’s case, where they were able to crouch.

“The next section is easier because we can crawl rather than having to slide and pull our way through,” Pea reassured them.

Once again, the pack leaders followed her. Crawling along the dark tunnel, through the oesophagus of nature’s giant, smaller details became more noticeable now there was a wider gap. The odour was foul. Stale smells seemed sadistic in their pungency. The temperature was significantly colder, although it wasn’t cold enough to affect the wolves yet. The tunnel was lit by little candles that were resting on shelves that had been chipped into the wall. Pea had clearly lit them as she passed to make the journey easier for the group. Personally, she hadn’t needed the light for a long time. The walls were shiny from the sheen of water that ran over the smooth rock.

When they finally saw the opening of the tubular path, they all breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that the worse was over. Unfortunately, it had only just started.

“This next bit is tricky, you have to stay standing, but duck your head so that you don’t hit the stalactites that are above you. It zig-zags so some parts are narrow, but then they expand,” she dashed off with her brief warning, expecting them to follow her.

Ewan looked inside the twisting gap first, it looked incredibly uncomfortable. The sight above him momentarily stunned him, the ceiling looked like beautiful amber daggers, both beguiling and brutal. Ewan led the way, followed by his Luna who was holding onto Iselda, while Conri was watching for any danger that might approach from behind them. The contours of the route created a tight cavity followed by a breathable wider space, the rhythm was like ribs undulating when the mountain sighed at the unwelcome intrusion. Picking up the pace, he was eager to get the ordeal over with, taking no time to judge the width of the next gap. He came to a sudden stop. Stuck. Wiggling his body to escape the hold that the wall had on him, he realised he had made the situation worse when the hold became tighter.

“I’m stuck!” He called out to his friends, hoping they wouldn’t venture further along the bony route. He tugged, and felt the rock pierce his shoulder as he desperately tried to squirm free. Fidella reached over him, trying to prise him from the grip of the rocky giant. Fear culminated within him at the thought that he might be forced to rip away from the stone that had trapped him, and accept that whatever was left behind he would be forced to live without. Paranoia gripped his mind as he started to wonder if this was Pea’s plan. What if she was a spy for the humans, and had led them into this inescapable death? Those whispers that were fuelled by his fear were increasing in volume as he struggled to free himself, to breathe, to not shift. He knew that he would be crushed to death in Brodie’s form.

“It’s OK, I’ll get you out,” the quiet, assured voice of Pea called out.

Without time to appreciate what she had said, a sharp pain was accompanied by a loud pop. She had dislocated his shoulder, but he was released. Pea shouted through the curved corner, and showed Ewan and Conri the wider gap that they needed to squat down to, in order to access the little more space at the bottom of the crevice. Being so slight, she had never had trouble passing through this part of the mine before. Eventually, they escaped the last curve and collapsed to the floor in exhaustion. Pea checked they were OK to carry on before popping Ewan’s shoulder back into place. Ewan was ashamed that he had doubted her, panic wasn’t a sensation that the Beta had much experience with. It brought out the worst in him.

Finally, their heavy breathing settled, and the group could hear an unusual mixture of sounds. The mellifluous sound of water drops exploding against the smooth rock was amplified by the echo in the vast, hollow mine. Contrasting with the beauty, was the unregulated smashing of metal on the stone. Iselda suddenly felt aggrieved for the mine whose stomach was being chipped away at from the inside out, consumed by the humans’ greed. Head bowed, Pea ushered them into a wider cavern that contained some poorly chiselled steps.

“They mine at the bottom of this descent, but it goes deep into the earth. It will get much colder, so you should call on your wolves to help you keep warm,” Pea advised.

“What will you do?” Fidella asked.

“It’s OK, I was born down there. I’m used to it,” She dismissed the concern, and made her way lower into the belly of dread.

She didn’t notice the look of horror on their faces, as they realised why she was so pale, and why she had longed to see the sun so ardently that she had risked being caught by the soldiers. The steps spiralled and turned like twisted intestines, the strain on their bodies was painful, but the clarity in the sounds that was generated beneath them motivated the entire party to push past their pain boundary. The smashing of metal on the stone was piercing their ears as the sound erratically screamed out. The drips that had been peaceful before seemed malicious now, mimicking sounds of rain drops that the wolves below were unlikely to ever see again. Suddenly, against the backdrop of dejection, a deep beautiful hum offset the misery of the mine. It reminded Ewan of his first shift in the forest. Caius had supported him through it, even though he longed for his real parents so that they could run together as a family. The fast pace of the vibrations was similar to the sound that had played in his head while his bones had reformed.

“That’s Pepin humming, he said it was a song his mate taught him,” Pea offered, recognising his voice.

Ewan wasn’t shocked. It seemed as if something within him knew that voice. Maybe his wolf? Maybe the very substance of his soul? He ignored his exhaustion and delved deeper into the bowels of the monstrous mine.

After reaching the last step, Pea led them into an open space where a horrific quantity of wolves were moving piles of rock salt around with their bare hands. Their bodies were drenched with the water that dripped through the cave, but their skin was crumbly with the dirt and clay that seemed to be fossilising the victims who were trapped. Pea clutched Ewan’s hand and pulled him along the path, clearly excited to unite father and son. The ease in which she navigated the space made his heart ache for her in sympathy. This was her childhood, and the start of her adulthood. He was ashamed that he had ever dared to complain about his own youth. Foul air in the cave mixed with human waste, and an acrid hue like the acidic bile of the earth vomiting its incredulity on the captives made the pack members want to heave. Fidella and Iselda were gaining the attention of the she-wolves, who were fixated on shifting the lighter rocks that were around them, unconcerned by the cuts on their hands, or the grazes on their knees. Some were wearing the rags of the tunics that were the attire of the House of Heaton, they were crying as they scraped the dirt into a pile, far from the life of a house slave.

They noticed the new arrivals, and were shocked by the sight of the wolves from Heaton House who used to be the pleasure slaves. They looked strong now, like a gladiatrix. Iselda ran up to some of them and held on tightly, the slaves who had been sent away by Antonia for slights she could hardly remember afterwards.

“It’s OK now. You are coming with us, you are coming home.”

There was nothing they could say, they just held on tightly, and hoped that a better life was possible.

Conri was halting the wolves, and lifting the repressive weight of rock, rubble and retribution off their backs. Slowly, the disbelieving whispers that there was some kindness in the mine ordering them to stop their suffering trickled through to the lost wolves. The relief and fear made them tremble as the idea of freedom brushed against their fingertips too fragile to hold on to. Rage that the four ranked members felt towards the humans who had degraded, destroyed and demoralised these once proud wolves into becoming instruments for their own profit was a terror to witness. Tenderly, they started to usher the wolves out of the mine in the same direction they had come from. None of the victims were fed enough to cause concern about getting lodged between the walls, something that Conri promised to remedy somehow. The journey seemed shorter on the way back. They guessed it was because hope was in front of them leading the way, instead of mocking them from behind.

Pea stopped in a section of the mine that was still being dug into, tunnelling for more undiscovered salt. Ewan noticed the wolf’s ruined back. The skin was shiny and Ewan imagined it would feel like delicate silk that had been stretched across uneven valleys of scars. The deep cuts formed a diamond pattered like poorly made lace with unfinished edges. Even though it had long healed, the mutilations were a testimony of the detestation Antonia and Magnus had had for him.

“This is the most dangerous job in the mines, finding more of it. The tunnel often collapses, so he said he would do this on his own, because too many of us had been crushed to death in the past,” Pea explained, before stepping back, and allowing them to be alone.

Reaching out, Ewan placed a hand on Pepin’s elbow. He turned quickly at the unfamiliar sensation. His arm was raised as if to fend off a potential attack, but the moment he saw Ewan he stumbled back in shock.

“Not you too. Don’t tell me they sent you here?” Pepin cried out, hovering his hand over Ewan’s shoulder, afraid to touch him in case he vanished, afraid to touch him in case he was really there.

“I’m here to take you home.” Ewan comforted him.

Pepin’s shoulders dropped and years of tension fell from him at those beautiful words.

“Ewan? My son!” Pepin reached out, putting his hand on his shoulder, needing something tangible to assuage his fears that this was a hallucination, and finally, the mate madness had come to claim him.

He clung on to his son, pulling him to his chest. What a man he had become, he looked strong and healthy. Clovis was howling in his mind, crying with joy that the impossible had happened, and that his pup was standing in front of him. He noticed Ewan’s shoulders bouncing, the tears running down his face. How many times had they both imagined this over the years?

“How did you know it was me?” Ewan asked.

“You have your mother’s eyes. I dream of those eyes every night.” Pepin smiled, knowing he wasn’t capable of making these details up.

“Come on, father. It’s time for us to be together,” Ewan said, before pulling him into a deep embrace, and leading him to the surface.