Xavier's Arc

Chapter 9 of 21

Xavier pushed the tiger deep into the reeds. The mud sucked at his tall boots. He knew the wolf-creature had learned his scent, and his tiger left a blood trail from the fight. Its cut ear had bled onto the tiger's shoulder. That smell would lead the pack straight to him. He had to kill the trail before they came. Berry caught up, slow on his heavy legs. The black bear had taught Xavier the roots and the trust of the tiger. Now he sniffed the air and frowned. "They will follow the blood," Berry said. "Not your feet. The blood." Xavier stopped by a bank of blue flowers. Their gold-edged petals glowed against the dark water. He had used their roots to heal, to climb, to escape the bog. Maybe they could hide him too. He dug his knife into the mud and pulled a fat root free. "The scent is on the tiger," Xavier said. He crushed the root in his fist. Sap ran down his wrist, sharp and green. He smeared it across the tiger's bloody shoulder. The tiger flinched, then held still. The blood smell faded under the root's bite. Berry watched. "Good. But the ground still holds your track." Xavier looked back. His boots had cut a clear line through the mud. The tiger's paws had left deep prints. A pack could read that path in the dark. He needed to break it. He led the tiger to a stretch of open water between two mud banks. "Walk here," he said. He tugged the rope. The tiger stepped into the shallow water. Its paws left no print. The current pulled the scent away downstream. Xavier waded behind it, boots deep, wiping out his own trail as he went. Then he heard them. Howls, far off, rising through the reeds. The pack had found the old path. Xavier's chest went tight. He crushed a second root and rubbed it over his own arms and legs. He pressed a smear to the shaking fox cub at his side. The howls came closer. Xavier stood still in the water and waited. The tiger's ears turned. The reeds hissed. Shapes moved on the far bank, low and fast. They reached the spot where his old track died in the water. They circled. They sniffed. They found nothing but flower sap and moving current. One wolf lifted its head and howled. The others answered. Then they turned and ran the other way, downstream, chasing a scent the current had carried far from him. Xavier let out his breath. The trail was dead. The pack was gone. "You masked it," Berry said. "They lost you." He looked at the deep swamp ahead. "But that root scent will not last past dawn. And a tiger draws hunters wherever it goes. You cannot hide what you two are." Xavier looked at the tiger, safe beside him in the water. He had bought this night. He had not bought the next.