Tanglemane knelt, and first Karrell, then Arvin, slid from his back. Arvin winced; it felt as if his legs would never straighten. The insides of his calves and thighs had been chafed raw by the wet fabric of his pants, and his lower back ached. It was already highsun, and he still hadn’t performed his morning meditations. He needed them as much as he needed to rest, and to sleep. But Glisena was somewhere in these woods. The more time that passed, the less chance they had of finding her before she gave birth to her child—and became expendable.
Arvin lifted his arms above his head, stretching. He twisted first right, then left, trying to loosen tightly kinked muscles. Then he reached into his pocket for the lapis lazuli. “I should get started,” he told Karrell. “If I manage to summon a wolf, it might be some time before it gets here.”
Karrell nodded. “When it comes, I will be ready.” Tanglemane whickered.”You’re summoning wolves?” he asked, his voice rising.
“Only one,” Arvin reassured him. “That’s how we’ll find what we’re looking for. Karrell will speak to the wolf. It can tell us if there’s a satyr camp nearby.”
Tanglemane’s nostrils flared. “Wolves run in packs. How can you summon just one? It is winter, and they will be hungry. You must not do this. Summon an eagle, instead. Their eyes are keen.”
“I can’t summon an eagle,” Arvin said. “I couldn’t possibly imitate its cries, and it wouldn’t be able to see through the trees. What we need is a keen sense of smell. If you’re afraid of the wolves….” Belatedly, he realized what he was saying; the lack of sleep had left him irritable. “Sorry,” he told Tanglemane.
The centaur turned, his tail whisking angrily back and forth. Without another word, he trotted away into the forest. Arvin sighed, hoping Tanglemane would come back when his temper cooled.
He touched the lapis lazuli to his forehead. He spoke its command word and felt tendrils of magical energy fuse with his flesh. Then he walked to the head of the stone giant and knelt beside it on the muddy ground. Pressing his cheek against the cold, wet stone, letting the weathered face fill his vision, he linked his mind with the power inside the lapis lazuli. Psionic energy slowly awakened at the base of his scalp; the power point there was as sluggish as his thoughts. Eventually, it uncoiled. Arvin sent his mind out into the forest, questing, and slowly the creature he was seeking materialized in his mind’s eye. For a heartbeat or two, several wolves blurred across his vision. He selected one of them: a lean, gray wolf with a muzzle white as frost, its ears erect and nostrils flaring. To this wolf, Arvin sent out not words, but a wolf’s howl. He imitated it from memory, drawing upon his recollections of the wolf he’d spotted, years ago, while walking past a noble’s garden in Hlondeth. The animal had been straining at the end of a short length of chain—a prisoner. Intrigued by its cries, Arvin had returned to the garden the next night to stare at the wolf through the wrought-iron fence. And the night after that saw him at the garden again. Moved to compassion, he had slipped into the garden to set it free. His reward had been a sharp bite on the arm; two tiny white scars remained where the wolf’s teeth had broken the skin. But he’d smiled and bade the wolf Tymora’s luck as it bolted into the night.
Now, in his mind, he repeated one of the howls that had prompted him to free the creature: a long, wavering, mournful cry.
The wolf cocked its head and gave Arvin a questioning look. It would see him for what he was: a human who had just howled like a wolf. Then it threw back its head. Its reply startled Arvin; it sounded as if the wolf were right next to him, howling in his ear. The cry ended, the wolf cocked its head a second time, following Arvin’s gaze as if it, too, were looking at the stone. Arvin could hear it panting… and the sending ended.
Exhausted, Arvin rose to his feet.
“Did it work?” Karrell asked.
“I made contact with a wolf, but I don’t know if it will come,” Arvin said. “We’ll have to wait and see.” He left the lapis lazuli in place on his forehead. If a wolf didn’t arrive in a reasonable amount of time, he’d try again.
Tanglemane returned then, carrying an armful of dead branches. He cleared a bare spot on the ground near the stone giant then dumped the branches onto it. “We need fire,” he announced. “To keep warm. And to keep the wolves from coming too close.”
Arvin nodded. Tanglemane needed something to drive away his fear of the wolves while they sat and waited. Arvin slipped his pack off his shoulders and rummaged inside it for the wooden box that held his flint and steel. The moss and shavings that were nestled inside were still dry, he was glad to see. He offered the fire kit to Tanglemane, who took it with a nod of his head.
