Garrett Ironpeak's Arc

Chapter 2 of 6

The dead wolves stiffened in the snow by dawn. Garrett dragged them past his stakes and stared at the drifts that had betrayed him. He could not guess when the pack would return, or which weakness they would strike. He needed to know their next move before they made it. Guessing meant dying. So he left the glaive and bow on their pegs, saddled nothing, and walked toward the huddle of thatched huts he had spotted his first week here. Someone in that settlement had lived through these winters. Someone knew the white wolves. The village elder met him at the edge of the huts. He leaned on a carved walking staff, his beard white as the drifts, bushy brows low over sharp eyes. He looked Garrett over slowly, then looked past him toward the valley. "You're the one who built the tower," Erwin Frostbeard said. "We watched the fire last night. We thought you were already dead." "Two of them are," Garrett said. "The rest ran. I need to know why." Erwin's staff tapped the frozen ground. "They don't run from wounds. They run to circle back. The pale ones hunt in patience." He turned toward the largest hut. "Come. My daughter marks their trails." Inside, a young woman knelt over a hide stretched flat. Dark braids swung as she pressed charcoal lines across it. Aina Frostwhisper glanced up, took in Garrett's scars, and did not flinch. "You killed two," she said. "Then you're worth talking to." She tapped the hide. "This is their range. They circle a kill site three nights, then strike the fourth from downwind. Always downwind. Your fire told them where your walls were weak. They'll come at the low drift, not the stakes." Garrett studied her lines. The drifts stood on the north side, where the wind piled snow highest. "So I clear the north drift." "Clear it and they'll test the next weak point," Aina said. "But you'll see them coming. Downwind means they come from the frozen creek. Watch the creek." Erwin set a hand on the hide. "Three nights of circling. That gives you two before the fourth." Garrett counted in his head. He had one night behind him already. "Then they hit tomorrow." "Tomorrow," Aina agreed. "At the creek. Downwind." Garrett stood. The guessing was over. He knew the hour, the direction, the ground. "Why help me?" Erwin's brows drew together. "Because the pack has grown bold. If they break you, we're next. Break them first." Garrett walked back across the white valley with a plan hardening in his chest. He would dig out the north drift by dark. He would stake the creek bank where the wolves would come. He would wait downwind of his own wall, in the cold, and let them walk into the ground he chose. He no longer waited on their move. Tomorrow the choice was his.