Xavier's Arc

Chapter 14 of 21

The pack was gone, but the tiger bled. Xavier slid down and pressed a hand to the cut on its flank. Warm blood ran through his fingers. He knew what this meant. The scent would spread on the wind. The wolves knew this hut, this tree, this ground. They would bring twice their number and come again before the day ended. The hut behind him could not hold a larger pack. Two dead wolves lay in the mud. That would only make the rest angrier. Berry limped over, favoring his hurt paw. The gentle bear who had taught Xavier the roots looked older now, wet and worn. "You cannot stay, boy," he said. "They will come back with the whole pack. This hut is a trap now. They know where the door is." "Then we don't stay," Xavier said. He stood. The fox cub pressed against his leg, ears flat. "We move before dark. Somewhere they don't know." Berry shook his head slowly. "Every place carries his coat." He nodded at the tiger. Even in shadow the red fur glowed bright as fire. "You mask the smell. You cannot mask that. Their eyes will find him." Xavier looked at the tiger, then at the deep swamp behind the hut. He thought of the mud that had nearly drowned him weeks ago. The bog. Solid ground only at the tree line. He had learned to read it from the tiger's back. "Then we make them come to us," he said. "On ground I choose." Berry lifted his head. "The bog past the reeds," Xavier went on. "I know the safe path. They don't. If they chase the red coat across it, the mud takes them. Like it took the big one before." Berry watched him a long moment. Then the bear's mouth curled into something close to a smile. "You have learned the swamp," he said. "You do not run from the ground now. You use it." Xavier crushed blue root into the tiger's wound. The bleeding slowed. He smeared fresh sap over both of them, hiding the scent one more time. Then he swung onto the tiger's back and gripped its shoulders. His knee found the old rhythm. The great cat rose under him, steady, ready. "Lead them to the mud," Berry said. "I will drive the ones that hang back." Xavier turned the tiger toward the reeds. He no longer feared the return of the pack. He wanted it. He had a beast that moved as one body with him and ground that killed for him. The hideout was behind him, and he did not look back at it. He pressed his heels in. The tiger stepped into the water. Somewhere in the trees, the first far howl answered. This time, Xavier rode to meet it.