Lone Werewolf Duology (bxb)

14. The Mountain

Yasuwa's run wasn't a cinematic charge of groomed, shod horses on a freshly swept race track with every pebble cleared out of their way. It was a lurching run, with scary sliding of the limbs, but Yasuwa's hooves drummed faster and faster in the silence of the frozen heights.

The faltering hearts sped up in time to his rhythm. Caught up in the excitement of their chieftain racing, the centaurs' cries expanded. They shouted non-stop now, and in one voice, as he pushed with the mighty hind legs, the front ones folded to the chest and whistled through the air. He landed beautifully on the other side, all four legs under him, no slips-and-sides,clearing the gap no problem. More rocks fell, but nobody tracked their fall with widening eyes.

The cold mountain reverberated with the wail of celebration that rose from the centaurs.

Yasuwa turned to his troops to bask in their adulation. His lined face broke into an ecstatic grin, underneath blazing eyes. All the suffering was worth this moment. He pumped his fist in the air.

"We are here! We are here!"

The echo multiplied his shout half-a-dozen times.The low rumble somewhere up high on the mountain made Volya crouch in his sleep, knees to the chest. Was this Karzhift's plan, to let them bring down an avalanche upon themselves?

If so, she had failed.

The centaurs jumped the gap, like the Walkwe used to leap over the bonfires.

Some flew more gracefully than others, but they proceeded with no losses or broken limbs. Each centaur landed to the eruption of the new wave of cheers, and the shouts bounced off the rock harmlessly. The stone, snow and ice seemed to have embraced the bold interlopers.

Even Ushpi relaxed the grip on her spear, despite letting everyone else jump before her. She was the only one to stay sober and study the shimmering glaciers overhead with suspicion. But when her turn came, she jumped as well, without hesitation, bringing up the rear of the column.

The russet horse-and-human shapes started forward again, at a tentative slow pace, their flanks and shoulders brushing the stone.

The ledge was narrow. The footing was treacherous... and Karzhift, far slimmer than the centaurs, ran ahead, laughing, and disappeared out of sight.

Volya cast the mist wolf's vision as far to the right as it would go, but the slope curved sharply...

Where is she? he asked his mist-wolf, but received only cackles in response. As helpful as ever, I see.

The vision clouded, tilted, then refocused once more on Yasuwa taking flight over another chasm, this one backed by a madly churning, narrow waterfall. He didn't stop for another pep talk. The great centaur ran, coiled and jumped.

It was bigger and even more impressive than his first leap of faith, but this time, a shadow came to meet him as he was at his zenith.

Karzhift means the Winged Shadow, Volya remembered.

The Sneja were the People of the Hawk, the mist-wolf instructed.

Hawk, eagle, falcon, it was all the same word, basically a big-ass bird of prey.

They were? Volya echoed the word rather than asked, but the mist-wolf decided to be forthcoming with the information for once.

Karzhift was the last one of her tribe, he said solemnly.

She was the last of her people—and suddenly, suddenly, everything became clear as day in Volya's head. Clear and frightening. This lonely woman took upon herself to erase the centaurs out of existence without waiting on nature to take its course.