The Unsuspecting Mage - Brian S. Pratt [18]
Little stone, little stone
With speed of a bullet
Hit that wolf’s hide
And go right through it.
With the last word he throws the stone at a pair of eyes. There is a crack in the air as the stone shoots forward in a sudden burst of speed. A loud, sickening thud along with the sound of snapping bones tells the tale and a pair of glowing eyes vanish. The rest of the pack break out of their immobility. Yelping and howling, they flee into the night.
Dots dancing before his eyes; James sits and rests his head on his knees, panting. Too much. No way can I do any more. If the wolves come back tonight he’s a dead man for he has nothing left. Remaining awake turns out to be an exercise in futility. He’s simply too exhausted. Trusting to fate, he lies down with head on backpack and quickly passes out. Sometime in early morning, the rain stops, and when the first rays of sunlight enters the cave, the glowing orb vanishes.
A rustling near his head startles him awake and he sits up quickly, fearful that the wolves had returned. He discovers instead a small dog similar to the one that had made off with his dinner earlier. The animal is looking straight at him, still and unmoving.
“Boo!” James cries loudly frightening the dog, causing it to run from the cave.
His head feels like it’s about to crack open and he’s shaky. Using his spear to aid him, he climbs to his feet and shoulders his backpack. At the mouth of the cave, James searches for any indication that the wolves are still in the area. It is with much relief that he looks out and finds the clearing before the cave vacant. He does, however, see the one he killed and the hole in its chest where the stone had struck. To his utter shock, the back half of the wolf had been blown away by the force of the impact. Sorrow for the wolf comes over him even though he knows the wolf, if given a chance, would have had him for a late night snack. Keeping an eye open for any of its pack-mates, he makes his way back toward the stream and continues following it westward.
The rains of the night before have swollen the stream. Its water rushes pell-mell over rocks in its bed. More berry bushes provide a morning snack as well as sufficient quantities to resupply his pack. His strength slowly returns throughout the morning and by noon, the headache and shaking go away.
He continues following the streambed. Sometime after noon, motion from downstream brings him to an abrupt halt. A shiver courses down his spine upon spying a wolf standing amidst the trees, watching him. He bends over and picks up several stones, placing all but one in his pocket. Looking back toward where the wolf had stood, he readies to throw the stone, but the wolf is gone.
For the next several hours, wolves can be seen amidst the trees, pacing him along his side of the stream. Every time he pauses to try and take one out with a stone as he had the night before, the wolves melt back into the forest. Their intermittent howls were a force of fear as he quickened his pace through the forest.
By this time, the stream has swollen to twice its size; several tributaries having joined with it. The stream was becoming more of a river, having a width in places exceeding twenty feet.
James encounters another large tributary cutting across his path. Standing upon a grassy knoll on the far side, a wolf stands motionless as it stares him down. Reaching into his pocket, James takes a stone and cocks his arm back to throw. Forming a visualization of the stone striking the wolf with great force, he repeats the incantation used back at the cave and throws.
Before the stone flies from his hand, the wolf lets out with a spine-chilling howl. Several answering howls erupt from out of the trees all around him and break his concentration resulting in the ruination of the spell. Without the power of magic behind it,