Garrett Ironpeak's Arc

Chapter 4 of 6

The dead wolves lay stiff by morning. Garrett dragged them from the creek and burned them. Fenrir's words stayed with him. Next time I come from where you cannot smell me. Garrett had learned every trick he knew. Fenrir had watched him use each one. To win, Garrett needed to know the man, not the beast. He needed someone who had faced Fenrir and lived. So he set out across the ice, following the old hunting trails, hunting for anyone who knew where the wolves denned. He found the young man two ridges out. Daren Ashford stood knee-deep in snow, spear leveled, watching a hillside. He had come months ago to learn Garrett's trade. Garrett had turned him away twice. Now the boy tracked the same ground alone. "You'll freeze out here," Garrett said. Daren didn't lower the spear. "I found where they sleep." He pointed with his chin. "A cave. Shaped like a wolf's head, teeth of ice at the mouth. Fenrir keeps them there." He looked at Garrett. "I've watched it three nights. I know how he moves." Garrett stared at the boy. "You've been spying on a man who feeds children to wolves." "I've been learning him," Daren said. "Same as you taught nobody, because you send everyone away." His jaw set. "He counts his pack every dusk. He talks to them. When one dies, he grieves like a father. That grief makes him careless." Garrett had killed four of Fenrir's wolves. Only two remained now. He thought of the man's face at the creek, the smile gone cold. The boy was right. Fenrir's love for his beasts was a crack in his armor. "Show me the cave," Garrett said. They climbed together. Near dusk they crouched behind a snowbank. Below, the great stone maw gaped, ice fangs ringing its mouth, dark throat sloping down into the hill. Fenrir stepped out. He called into the cold. Two pale shapes padded to his side. He knelt and pressed his forehead to each wolf's skull. "Two left," Daren whispered. "After that, he has nothing to send. He'll have to face you as a man." Garrett watched Fenrir stroke the last of his pack. A plan formed, hard and clear. Not walls. Not traps on his own ground. He would strike the den. He would take the wolves Fenrir loved, and force the man into the open. "You'll take my orders," Garrett said. "No spear before I say." Daren nodded once. "You're taking me, then." "I'm taking someone who watched the enemy while I hid behind my wall." Garrett gripped the boy's shoulder. "That's an ally. That's what I lacked." They crept back into the dark, two men now against one. Garrett had faced the hunt alone before. He would not face it alone again. But the den knew their scent now, and Fenrir would count his pack at dawn and find them watched.