Ivy's Tangle (Legend of the White Sword - Book 1)

Chapter 17 - White Sword (Part 1)

Mr. Ryan was busy with a phone conference regarding his next contract, leaving me on my own for evening sword practice. After most of a summer of building up my strength, I could do a full round of katas with the heavy practice sword without getting sloppy by the end. I was nowhere near to Mr. Ryan's level of smooth, fast competence, but I felt proud of my improvement. With summer drawing to an end, the evenings grew shorter, and darkness came earlier each day.

I tried to focus on my form and ignore nagging concerns about the imminent departures of Ivy and Mr. Ryan. High school started the next week—a whole other thing to look forward to. Gran would still be around, but we rarely spoke on any given day, other than to say 'hello' or possibly 'please pass the gravy'.

Glastonbury Manor would be lonely and quiet without my two improbable companions. Ivy was scheduled to return next summer. I knew that now, but summer was a whole school-year away. This summer had gone by far too quickly.

My sword practice moved me from one side of the yard to the other. The tighter katas, suitable for practice in the basement, could be strung together into longer more far-flung combinations, and Mr. Ryan had me fighting invisible enemies right across the yard.

As dusk turned to night, and I made ready to call it quits, I heard Ivy's scream come from the forest.

"Jack, help me!"

I turned to the nearest wall of dark trees, searching for her.

"Help me—please," she called again.

It sounded as though she was in serious trouble.

"Where are you?" I shouted back.

No reply came, and I ran to the edge of the yard.

"Ivy!" I shouted again.

"Jack!" she called back from the forest.

Ivy sounded terrified and desperate. She also sounded a good ways off, and without giving it any consideration, I plunged into the undergrowth. It had taken me all summer to do what I'd been so determined to accomplish on the first day. I rested the heavy practice sword on my shoulder and pushed forward in the direction from which Ivy's voice had come. A few steps in, the undergrowth thinned, and the going became easier, but it was far darker beneath the tangled branches.

"Ivy!" I shouted.

"Jack!" she shouted back.

I was heading in the right direction and I picked up my pace, worried at what might have befallen her. After fifteen or twenty minutes of racing carelessly through the forest, scrambling over fallen logs, and pushing through dense thickets, I realised her voice wasn't getting any louder. That made no sense... unless she was moving away from me.

"Ivy where are you?" I shouted for the hundredth time.

"I'm here," she called out from up ahead. Now, she definitely sounded closer.

I pushed on, for I'm not sure how long, before stumbling free of the grabby branches of the forest and into a wide clearing. I'd been moving in near darkness for the last while and seeing the bright moon above was a relief. The downside: I was completely lost and knew I couldn't have found my way back to Gran's house in the middle of day. Grass or some other low groundcover carpeted the clearing, and around me stood a ring of stones towering more than twice my height. They rose like an open maw of blunted teeth. To the best of my knowledge there were never any druids in that part of the world, and what I knew of Native Americans didn't jibe with what I saw.

"Ivy," I shouted again.

If she was nearby, she might see me in the moonlight.

"Hello... Jack."

I turned at the sound of her voice, but what I saw was a huge wolf standing between two of the massive stones. The wolf was black, except for its eyes which glowed red like hot coals.

"Aren't you going to say hello?" the wolf asked with Ivy's voice.

I came close to wetting my pants then. If you've ever been surprised in the dark by the eyes of a predator, you know the primal fear that grips you. It's an instinctive knowledge, deep in your gut, that your ancestors were once prey, and you are likely to be so in the near future. Now, multiply that by glowing demonic eyes and speaking with your friend's voice, and you can imagine where I was at, emotionally. I also felt its hatred. It came from the monster as tangibly real as the sensation of strong wind on skin.

"Stop toying with it," a gravelly voice said behind me, "Let us feed while time permits."

I turned half around to see another red-eyed wolf between two stones, opposite the first. I moved my practice sword to the ready position, doing my best to keep both sets of eyes in sight. The second voice more matched the wolf's appearance and sounded appropriately terrifying.

"Just kill it for now," a third voice said. It was female, but not at all feminine. "We only have tonight, and must take the other for the full payment."

That voice came from right in front of me. A half ring of seven wolves stood before me, filling the spaces between the stones. Every part of me wanted to run, but that meant certain death. Animals that run become prey by default. A lot of wildlife documentaries had taught me that, but they'd been scarce on facts about talking wolves.

"What do you want?" I asked.

That brought a round of very disturbing wolfish laughter.

"Time passes," the female said.

She bounded towards me, covering most of the distance in a single leap. I was so surprised that I didn't react. An arrow whizzed over my right shoulder from behind, snuffing out one red eye in mid-flight. The huge animal landed in a heap, sliding almost to my feet before coming to a stop. Then the rest of the pack melted back into the forest, vanishing from sight.

"What are you doing out here?" Ivy's voice said behind me.

I spun around, looking for an attacker, until the real Ivy dashed out to join me in the middle of the stone circle. She carried her longbow with another arrow nocked and ready to draw. She'd shoved seven or eight more shafts through the tie of her striped bathrobe.

"I heard you calling for help," I said, staring down at the dead wolf, "and I followed your voice here."

"It was a trap."

"I figured that out a minute ago," I said. "This is crazy. That thing could talk. A talking wolf. How is that possible?"

"They aren't wolves, Jack." Ivy scanned around us. "They only look like them. Now isn't the time for explanations. We're outnumbered and poorly armed."

She wasn't kidding. I had a sword with no edge and she had arrows with field points. The only way they'd be reliably lethal was through an eye, and while Ivy had mad skills, hitting eyes in the dark on moving targets was terrible odds.

"How did you find me?" I asked.

"I watched you practice from my room. Then you ran off into the forest, abandoning the protection of the wards. The mistress of the house and Mr. Ryan were nowhere to be found. These were sitting out." She shook her bow and arrow at me. "I hoped to find you swiftly, and return you to the wards, but you moved far in so a short a time. Why did you think I'd be foolish enough to be out in this forest?"

"I didn't think," I said. "I heard you calling for help and ran after your voice. It's not like I could be expected to know there are freaky demon wolves out here."

"They're strongest within this circle. We must break free of it."