Chapter Six

Going Forward Regardless

Ghost of a Chance

Dàn relaxed as the oak circle brought him a sense of inner peace. He knew this was a place he would like to spend some time. A light breeze played through the limbs and rustled the leaves as if the trees whispered among themselves. Everywhere he looked he saw serenity and balance.

The shaman waited in the center of the three fire pits. He was dressed in long robes decorated in earth tones, with dark gold embroidered edges. Unlike most of their kind, this man showed his age. His hair was gray, and his face showed fine wrinkles. He was a rather plain man, except for his piercing black eyes, which immediately obliterated Dàn's feeling of tranquility.

This was the man who would poison Athair. The one who plotted to kill Athair if his plan did not work to perfection.

And Dàn knew his plans. They would begin the ceremony as expected, but the drink given to Athair would contain a highly toxic compound they thought would cause Athair to become violent. They would then subdue him and expel him, Dàn, and Rath from Lakeside, using the event to discredit Sandulfr. But how could it work? Surely only a weak clan would turn on its Alpha for such a shallow reason.

The shaman briefly explained where to sit, and that they were not expected to participate in the first steps of the ceremony. Each was given a drink before the ceremony was to begin. The bitter drink contained a hallucinogen that would "help" them talk with the spirits. Very few of their people had that ability even with the drink. Dàn knew no one who did. Although with his luck, he would discover it was another one of his exciting skills.

It was time.

Athair, Rath, and Dàn sat together in the center. All three were tense and nervous, but tried to look relaxed despite knowing what was to come. Dàn thought he might have been wrong to warn them of the coming attack. He'd only done so because he worried that Rath would be killed trying to protect him or Athair. He had been able to see that Athair would live. But not Rath, who was at times unpredictable. Rath had been his closest friend for centuries and Dàn wished he could do more to ensure his safety.

The shaman began the ceremony by calling others from the shadows to bear witness to this test of faith. Dàn saw several people gathering along the edge of the clearing, circling in line with the trunks of the great trees. Some looked familiar, and he thought he recognized both Alpha leaders and Maura.

In a flash of light, the shaman lit all three fires, sending them flaring high for several minutes before they settled into small, steady flames.

Then his chanting began. The chant wasn't soothing, like most of the ones with which Dàn was familiar. It was filled with sharp painful cries, that when they came together, rang with discord. The shaman's chant continued in this way, and those watching added to the chant. They only supported certain words and phrases that seemed to flow equally from the people as from the wind, the trees, and even the crackling flames.

That portion of the chant called to Dàn. It felt familiar, as if he had heard it often, probably as others might remember a favorite lullaby.

If he could just hear past the shaman's chant, he thought he might be able to get the spirits to give him the answer they needed. The answer to a question they would not get the chance to ask.

Perhaps the ceremonial drink had begun to work.

Dàn looked over at the others. Rath sat with his eyes closed. He was tense but seemed all right otherwise. Athair looked uncomfortable. He was pale and had a sheen of sweat on his brow. His open eyes glowed fiercely.

Dàn tried to speak to him silently, "Athair?"

There was no response. It was as if Athair couldn't hear him or didn't want to acknowledge him.

Dàn pushed hard with his powers to see into Athair's mind. What he found blazed red with pain and rage. There was nothing of Athair in that touch. Nothing of the gentle, loving man who had raised him. The touch didn't even feel human.

Now Dàn could clearly see how the traitor's plan could succeed. They would claim that Athair couldn't control the animal within. That he had to be destroyed. How absurd that they had chosen the calmest of their clan to turn violent. Dàn suddenly wondered what Sgrios would have done in this position. But then, Sgrios would never let himself become so vulnerable.

Athair began to tremble and growl.

Rath watched him for a moment, and then glanced at Dàn with a worried expression. Rath started to lean toward Athair, as if to touch him.

Dàn stopped him with a silent, "Wait. You cannot help him. He will not even recognize you."

"What can we do?"

"Nothing, yet. But be ready to aid in his escape. And ours."

"Just say when."

Athair growled loudly. Dàn found it amazing that he had held his human form this long. But not for much longer. Already there were tiny sparks flying from his skin, a sure sign that Athair was losing his battle for control.

The shaman noticed Athair's growling and came to stand behind him, chanting in a loud voice. Dàn realized that the shaman was indeed calling spirits, very unfriendly spirits. The other chanters called on helpful spirits. Hence the difference in their chants.

And the spirits were answering their calls. Dàn clearly saw several, which seemed threatening. At the shaman's command, they neared Athair.

Another spirit approached Dàn. She was lovely and seemed to want to tell him something. Something he very much wanted to hear.

But Athair shifted to wolf form, and Dàn was yanked back to his true surroundings. He shot to his feet. Athair circled Rath and Dàn warily, glaring past the fires at the shaman who stood just out of reach.

Dàn silently warned Rath not to make any moves that would draw Athair's attention.

The shaman worked a protection spell that would contain them within the circle of fires.

Dàn figured he could probably break the spell, but it suited his purpose for the time being. Athair would need time to gain control if he could possibly do so.

Dàn watched with interest as the shaman skirted them and began arguing with the leaders, claiming that Athair had failed to complete the ceremony and could not be trusted.

Dàn felt a brush against his shoulder and slowly turned in that direction. The friendly spirit from earlier was at his side. She reached out her ethereal hand and traced a finger along his jaw, leaving a warm tingle in its path. He sensed she was offering to help him.

He was in no position to turn down help, regardless of the insubstantial source. He attempted to project to her that Athair needed calming. He did not know if she could help or not.

The spirit drifted closer to Athair and held out a hand to stroke his head. At her touch, Athair flinched and snarled in anger. Then he seemed to calm somewhat.

As Dàn touched Athair's mind, he realized the spirit had taken away most of his rage. But his pain remained. Athair was still far from in control.

The shaman and the leaders approached the circle, intending to restrain Athair and expel them from the town. Dàn knew that would not be dramatic enough for the shaman or Bequlf's plans. They still needed to publicly discredit their leaders.

Now was the time. Dàn knew they had a choice. Just possibly, Athair could make his escape without being too badly injured.

The shaman stepped boldly into the circle, clearly tempting Athair to attack him. And he certainly would have if Dàn had not mentally held him still. Until that moment, he hadn't been sure he could. He flooded Athair's mind with his own control, providing the strength Athair needed to dampen the pain and shift back to human form.

As Athair shifted, the shaman grabbed him roughly and dragged him from the circle in front of Sandulfr. Bequlf and several of his gang followed and took custody of Rath and Dàn as well.

"You brought this animal into our village. It is your duty to protect our people and yet, you risk us all for these strangers," the shaman challenged Sandulfr.

"I don't understand what happened," Sandulfr said. Then he shifted his attention back to the more important details. "Although Athair of the Eagle Clan failed to hold his form for the ceremony, he certainly hasn't proven to be dangerous in any way."

"Only his weakness, and the strength of my spirit guides, keep him from savaging everyone here and it was your poor judgment that welcomed him into our midst. You always place the welfare of others ahead of your own clan. You may not care for the safety of our young, but others do. This is only one more example of your inferior leadership. You are not fit to be Alpha of the Bear Clan."

Bequlf suddenly stabbed Dàn in the back with a short knife. Although the wound was nowhere near fatal, the sudden pain pulled Dàn's concentration from Athair, who was again assaulted with the drug-induced pain and rage. He abruptly shifted back to wolf form and violently struck out at those nearest to him. He had the shaman on the ground in seconds and was tearing into him. The area turned into complete chaos.

Several of Bequlf's supporters attacked Athair to rescue the shaman, who was seriously wounded. Some were armed with weapons, and some shifted into wolves using tooth and claw.

Rath had seen Bequlf stab Dàn and had shoved his own guard aside to pull Dàn away. Mentally, he shouted at Dàn, "Is it now? Or should we wait for them to kill us?"

"Now!"

"Good," Rath answered aloud in a gruff voice. Clouds boiled above them, and lightning shot across the sky. Rath's best magical talent was weather control, and he could perform with grand style. He was also quite good at non-magical defense, which he demonstrated by slugging Bequlf and dragging Dàn behind him.

Dàn focused on Athair's fight for freedom. He had a pack of eight wolves attacking him. They darted in and out around him jumping at him from behind, giving Athair little chance to defend himself. Several of the bystanders had taken the leaders to the side to protect them from being hurt. Others were attending to the shaman, Belquavir.

One of the wolves started to dart in after Athair and a bolt of lightning took him out of the fight, and possibly out of existence. That left an opening to one side, and Dàn told Athair to go that way, to run. Athair was torn and bleeding and wouldn't be able to take much more.

Whether he was aware of Dàn's urging or acted out of the instinct to survive, Dàn didn't know. Athair broke free of the pack and ran. Rath brought in heavy fog to aid in his escape. Within the blink of an eye, Athair was gone from sight with the pack fast on his heels in pursuit.

Dàn followed the chase, mentally aiding Athair as he struggled to stay ahead of the pack. He provided strength and guidance to Athair while disorienting the others.

"Dàn, we've got a problem here." It was Rath.

Dàn looked around to find Bequlf and his remaining supporters gathering around them in a loose circle. Rath continued to fist fight with anyone who got within his reach as he altered the storm's focus to aid them.

"We need to get out of here. Any bright ideas?"

"Let's run," Dàn suggested. He could use very little magic here while helping Athair to make his getaway. And someone was beginning to counter Rath's storm. If they were to use his weather to escape, they had to do so now.

Rath growled something like, "How about a breeze?" Just then a forceful wind blew through the clearing, throwing people to the ground. The wind formed a dozen small tornados that scattered the people but did almost no actual damage to them or the property. A pocket of calm air surrounded and moved with Rath and Dàn as they shifted into wolf form and dashed for the fog enshrouded woods.

They had run for only a few miles before Rath's weather and their camouflage was lost and they could hear the pack closing in on them from at least two sides.

Rath asked Dàn, "What should we do?" He fully expected Dàn to know how to get them out of this trouble.

But he didn't know. This was part of that very much unappreciated void in his premonition. He had no idea what to expect, but he hated to admit it. "I haven't any idea."

That stopped Rath in his tracks. He gaped at Dàn. "What?"

Dàn urged him to keep moving, while trying to explain. "I cannot see what is coming. That might be bad for me. I think we should separate. You can catch up with Athair and help him."

"Not happening."

Unfortunately, that was the response that Dàn had expected. And against all reason, he was pleased by Rath's stubborn loyalty. Glad to have Rath at his side for whatever was to come.

"They are gaining. Could you at least help with this fight?"Rath sounded harassed at having to protect him. "Or are you still helping Athair?"

"Still."Controlling and focusing Athair required nearly all of Dàn's magic. Not only was he strengthening Athair and healing the more dangerous wounds, he also was forcing his reasoning on Athair's wild mind. The task became more difficult as the distance between them grew longer.

Dàn and Rath ran on. The others were no longer gaining on them, but Dàn began to suspect that they weren't trying to catch up. They were just letting them run. But why? Did they like where they were heading? That wasn't reassuring.

Then he saw the ravine, and barely stopped Rath from tumbling over the edge. Using his excellent night vision, Dàn saw that it was more than twenty feet to the bottom. Though the fall would probably not kill them, it would have hurt like the devil.

He and Rath ran to the right but had only gone a few dozen feet when the pack surrounded them. They were cornered, with the steep drop off behind them.

Several of the pack, including Bequlf, leapt at them and attacked with tooth and claw. Although outnumbered, Dàn was pleased when they held their own. At least for a while.

This type of fighting was more to Rath's taste. And Rath did seem to be enjoying the fight. He'd managed to tear a wicked slash in the neck of one of their opponents and the other facing him sported several bleeding bite wounds. He'd been spending too much time with Sgrios.

On the other hand, Dàn could certainly use some quality time with the brutal man himself. If he survived. Although he was holding his ground with the one squared off with him and both of them were bleeding from only small cuts, he knew he and Rath would have to jump and risk the ravine.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp sting in his flank. Looking down, he saw a dart hanging from his side. Rath cursed silently. "Damned cheating mongrels. They've drugged me."

Darkness closed in around Dàn, who fought to stay conscious. He barely succeeded.

* * *

Rath awoke to the sound of screams and to agony beyond imagination.

His screams? His pain?

If not, it felt as though it were. The pain was personal, not distant. His mind rebelled against the pain. He couldn't take it. Couldn't even catch his breath. Fortunately, the experience was brief.

Seconds later a soft voice whispered into his mind, "Sleep."

And he passed out again, returning to the comfortable arms of darkness.