Jack Templar and the Monster Hunter Academy: The Templar Chronicles: Book 2 (18 page)

BOOK: Jack Templar and the Monster Hunter Academy: The Templar Chronicles: Book 2
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“You’re telling me that you’ve been through worse than having your nose chewed off by a ferret-faced bat-winged creature and then surrounded by wolves who you think want to eat you?” I asked.

Daniel poked the fire with a stick. “Yeah, that’s what I’m telling you,” he said.

I had just thought he was being his usual cocky self, but something about his voice struck me as sincere. I decided to leave it there and not stir up old memories. But without any prompting, Daniel began to tell me a story.

“I was thirteen years old. Still safe because of Quattuordecim, but my birthday was only four months way. My father was a great hunter and I wanted nothing more than to be like him. We lived out in the wilderness. Up away from the world in the Canadian Rockies. I trained non-stop. He was hard on me. Never cruel, just hard. He knew the life I had in front of me and he made sure I was ready for it.”

I looked over and saw that Daniel’s eyes were locked on the flames in front of him, staring into some far off day that only he could see.

“The camping trip was supposed to be just another training run. Up in the mountains. Basic survival skills, you know? Just my father and my two little nine-year-old twin brothers, Andre and Felix. They were good kids. Into everything, always with a million questions, could never sit still. It was their first time coming with us. My dad didn’t think they were ready, but they begged so much that it was hard to say no. He asked me whether I thought we should let them come. That it was my decision.

“It felt good, you know? Like I was an equal. The twins looked at me with their blue eyes, wide and hopeful. No, they weren’t ready, but how could I say no? I nodded and said they could come. The twins went crazy, but when I looked up at my father, he was staring at me with an expression I couldn’t read. It wasn’t amusement. Certainly not pride. Was it disappointment? Sadness? Or was he thinking about something else entirely and I was reading into it? All these years I’ve tried to figure that out. What that one look meant that lasted for only three seconds. That look that won’t stop haunting me.”

A lone wolf howled outside, but even this didn’t break Daniel’s focus on the fire and the scene replaying in his mind.  

“The twins hung in there for the first two days. We kept our usual pace, my father intent in giving them the full experience. We tracked caribou, made and set traps to catch our dinner, caught fish in the clear running streams. At night, the sky was on fire with the Northern Lights, bands of shimmering light that danced in the darkness. We were all together. Those were the best two days of my life.”

Daniel fell silent, lost in the embers of the fire. He swayed gently back and forth, absently poking at the ground in front of him with a stick. For a long time, he said nothing. I knew this story wasn’t going to end well. Part of me didn’t want to know how it ended. Part of me hoped it would stop right there. A father and his three sons camping under the clear night skies.

“If you don’t want—” I offered.

“We heard the first wolf at dawn on the third day,” Daniel continued. “It wasn’t rare to hear them in the mountains. And it didn’t concern us. This was the summer. A time of plenty for all living things in the mountains. In the lean, hungry days of the winter, we would have paid it more notice. We should have known better.”

“At noon we spotted the first of the pack. Three massive beasts on a ridgeline ahead of us. Silhouetted against a bright blue sky, they stood stock still, watching us. My father, always with the hunter’s eye, saw them first. He pointed them out to the twins like we were on a visit to the zoo, telling them details about the species. Then, as we stood there, one of the silhouettes raised its front paws in the air, balancing on its rear legs, clawing the air. Slowly, the shadow transformed into the shape of a man. I looked to my father and my chest tightened in panic. For the first and only time in my life, I saw fear on my father’s face.

‘Run! Run, boys!’ my father shouted. ’Run!’

“In a beat, we were in a full sprint to the tree line. I heard my father’s blade slip from its scabbard and I reached down and did the same. From the trees in front of us came five more of the pack. Snarling, teeth bared. My father pushed us to the right, toward a ravine. The twins were moving too slowly, so my father scooped them up in his massive arms and carried them. Even with the extra weight, he was faster than me. He was ten yards ahead when the ground gave way and they disappeared.

“It was a trap. The wolves had pushed us to this spot. Only by luck was I not in the hole with them. I ran to the edge and saw them curled in a heap at least fifteen feet below.
Come on. Give me your hand. Father! I’m here! I can save you!”

Daniel held his hand out over the fire, as if still reaching out to his father and little brothers. He seemed not to notice the heat and soon the sleeve of his cloak smoked from the flames. I reached out and pulled his hand back. Still, his eyes remained fixed on the fire, thousands of miles away.

“My father looked up from that hole in the ground, blood coating his teeth, clutching the twins to him. I knew instantly what he wanted me to do. I shook my head. I won’t leave you. I can’t. Then he said the words that have stayed with me every day of my life since then.
Avenge us, Daniel. Survive and avenge your family
.
Now, run!

“A lifetime of following orders saved my life. I turned and ran down the ravine, tears blocking my vision. I heard the yelps and growls of the wolves behind me. I almost stopped when those snarls were joined by the screams of my father and brothers being torn to pieces.

“In front of me, a man dressed in a black cloak stepped from the tree line into my path. I recognized his shape as the creature that had transformed from the wolf. Behind him was a fast moving river. An escape. The figure drew a sword from his side and waited for me. I had my own sword in hand and I clutched it hard as I ran. This was my vengeance.

“I flew at him with all the anger and pain I had in me. But even in my fury, I was no match for the all-powerful Ren Lucre.”

I drew in a sharp breath at the sound of the name, reliving my own face-to-face encounters with the Lord of the Creach. Daniel, for the first time since starting his story, looked up at me and nodded.

“Yes, I too have faced Ren Lucre. But unlike you, I didn’t last more than a few exchanges before he batted my sword away and held the point of his blade to my throat. He grabbed me by the front of my cloak and drew me close. Then he stared at me with those black, soulless eyes. I could feel him in my head, like he was scraping the inside of my skull, searching for something.”

I shivered at the description. I knew exactly the feeling.

“But whatever it was, he didn’t find it there.
You’re not the One
, he said.
You’re no Templar
.

With a growing feeling of dread, I realized what this meant. “He was looking for me,” I whispered. “Ren Lucre and the wolves only attacked you because they were looking for me.”

Daniel ignored the comment and continued, less telling me the story than reliving it himself. I wondered whether he could stop now even if he wanted to or whether he was somehow locked into it and had to see it through.

“Ren Lucre threw me to the ground and let out a cry. The wolves, dozens of them, howled in unison in response, a mournful cry that filled the mountains. I took the one chance I had and crawled on my hands and knees to the edge of the ravine and launched myself off the edge. How I missed the rocks below, I don’t know, but the icy waters alone almost killed me. But they didn’t. I escaped. Then, through friends of my father, I made my way to the Academy. I did as I was told. I survived so that I could avenge my family.”

The wolves howled outside.

“That’s why you hate the wolves,” I said.

“No,” Daniel whispered, his eyes welling with tears. “That’s why I hate. The wolves, Ren Lucre, my father for giving me the decision to bring the twins, myself for running away…” He stared at me hard and added, “And the last true Templar, for not being caught before Ren Lucre came looking for us that day.”

My stomach turned over on itself. He was right. Ren Lucre had been searching for me. I felt the weight of his family’s deaths fall on me. A weight that already included Aunt Sophie, Hester and possibly my own mother and father. I wondered how much more weight would be added before all was said and done.

And I still didn’t even know if I was the One. Or, even if I was, what that meant.

I just knew that too many people were being hurt because of me.

“I’m sorry,” I said. The words sounded too meager, too inconsequential. But I had to say them. “I’m so sorry.”

Daniel laid down on the ground next to the fire, curling up as if to sleep, but still staring into the flames. “Yeah, me too,” he said.

There was nothing more to say. We laid down on the hard cave floor as the fire burned down, both of us finally drifting off to an uneasy sleep, the howls of wolves continuing through the night.

 

Chapter Ten

I
woke with a start. A scratching noise came from somewhere in the cave. It was soft, just a distant, but constant, twitch of sound. I got up and crossed over to Daniel. Even in the faded light of the fire I could tell he was worse off now. He was pale and sweaty, his hair pasted to his forehead. He mumbled and whimpered as his trembling hands carved shapes in the air above his chest. Whatever dream world he was in, it was filled with nothing but terror.

The scratching sound came again, louder this time. I reached down and shook Daniel to wake him, but it had no effect. His skin was hot to the touch with fever. That wasn’t good. I pulled a stick from the fire, its end now a bright red ember, and carried it toward the sound.

My heart pounded as my mind imagined all the creepy-crawly things that could be making such a sound in a dark cave. My first thought was that it was a lone shrieker that had somehow survived the onslaught of the wolves and managed to squirm its way down the chimney flue. But a quick survey of the cave showed no movement.

My makeshift torch lit up the metal door. The sound came faintly from the other side.

I put my hand against the cold metal, expecting to feel the vibrations of whatever was trying to claw through. But there were none. I pressed my ear up against the door and held my breath to hear better.

Scratch.

Scratch.

Scratch.

Coming from outside the cave.

Daniel let out a stifled cry from the middle of the cave and rolled to his side in his troubled, fevered sleep. I had to get him back to the Academy to get some real medicine.

I considered the possibility that a search party from the Academy was out there. We weren’t expected back for at least two more days, so it didn’t make sense, but desperation can do strange things to your mind.

I decided I had to take a risk. Carefully, trying not to make any noise, I unlocked the door and slid it back so only a crack appeared. I was surprised that a beam of sunlight burst in. After so many hours in the confines of the cave I had lost all track of time.

I squinted, relieved that nothing had thrown itself at the door the second I opened it, and sought out the source of the scratching sound. It was louder now, clearly coming from the mouth of the short tunnel. I kept my hand on the door, ready to slam it shut again if something charged from outside.

A long black shadow crossed the beam of light. Then a second one. I almost panicked and closed the door. Then I heard the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. The low, throaty rumble of a horse. The long shadows were legs. I opened the door wider. The scratching sound was a hoof pawing the snow away from the ground, followed by a massive head lowering to munch on the soft grass.

Saladin.

I couldn’t believe it. I had already mourned the horse’s death at the hands of either the shriekers or the wolves, but there he was, peacefully eating without a care in the world.

I gave a low whistle and his nearest ear rotated toward me. He quickly stood, stamped the ground and whinnied as if saying it was about time I’d gotten my lazy behind out of bed. I opened the door wider and carefully walked through the tunnel, my eyes slowly adjusting to the bright light.

Saladin stood in front of the mouth of the cave, his head bobbing up and down, shaking the hair of his mane. Seconds later, I understood what he was trying to tell me.

Arrayed in a semi-circle in the clearing around the cave was the entire pack of wolves.

I froze.

It was exactly how I imagined Daniel’s descriptions on that deadly day when he had lost his family. I doubted I had time to make it back inside the cave before the nearest wolf could reach me. Saladin whinnied softly, but I noticed there was no panic in the sound. Certainly, the wolves had been there while Saladin munched on the grass. I moved toward him cautiously and put my hand on his muscled neck. He felt relaxed and calm, even ducking his head for another quick bite of food. I wished I could say I was as calm as he was but my heart was pounding like it might explode from my chest.

From behind the wolves, at the apex of the semi-circle, walked Tiberon. Even next to the other wolves, he looked massive. His jet-black coat seemed unnatural in the pale, winter sun; the white cross on his chest was too perfectly formed, almost as if it had been stitched onto him.

It took everything I had not to turn and run back into the cave, but I stood my ground as the massive wolf crossed the distance between us. Saladin shifted his weight nervously at the new arrival, but I gripped his mane and he became still.

The wolves around us lifted their heads to the sky and howled into the winter air. Tiberon approached me, his head nearly level with my own. His dark brown eyes never left mine. He stopped only a few feet from me, so close that the white plumes of his hot breath in the cold air rolled up into my chest and face.

“My friend is injured,” I said, my voice cracking. “I need to get him help or he will die.”

Tiberon looked past me into the tunnel and then back to my eyes. He raised a massive paw and I couldn’t help but notice each claw was nearly the length of my hand. Slowly, almost as if he too were afraid he might injure me, Tiberon laid a paw on my shoulder.

BOOK: Jack Templar and the Monster Hunter Academy: The Templar Chronicles: Book 2
10.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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