The Wolf chuckled. “As much as I’d enjoy ripping your head off, little prince,” he said, and his eyes gleamed, “I am not here to end your life.
Quite the opposite, in fact. Mab sent me here to help you.” I stared at him, hardly able to believe what I’d just heard. “Why?” The Wolf shrugged, his huge shoulders rippling with the movement. “I do not know,” he said, and yawned, f lashing lethal fangs. “Nor do I care. The Winter Queen knows of your quest; she knows you will probably have to journey far to complete it. I am here to make sure you reach your destination with your guts on the inside. In return, she will owe me a favor.” He sniffed the air and sat down, watching me with half-lidded eyes.
“Beyond that, I have no interest in you. Or the Summer prankster.
Who, if he wants his head to remain on his shoulders, will think long and hard about jumping me from behind. Next time, try standing downwind, Goodfel ow.”
“Damn.” Puck appeared from a clump of reeds, a chagrined smile on his face, glaring at the Wolf. “I knew I was forgetting something.” 67/387
Blood caked one side of his face, but other than that, he seemed fine.
Brandishing his daggers, he sauntered up beside me, facing the huge predator. “Working for Mab now, are you, Wolfman?” he smirked.
“Like a good little attack dog? Will you also roll over and beg if she asks?”
The Wolf rose, looming over both of us, the hair on his spine bristling.
I resisted the urge to hit Goodfel ow, even though I knew what he was doing; taunting an opponent for more information. “I am not a dog,” the Wolf growled, his deep voice making the puddles ripple. “And I work for no one.” He curled his lips in a sneer. “The favor of the Winter Queen is a substantial reward, but do not think you can order me around like the weak creatures of men. I will see you to the end of your quest alive.” He growled again and bared his teeth. “The request said nothing about whole.”
“You’re not here for a favor,” I said, and he blinked, eyeing me suspiciously. “You don’t need one,” I continued, “not from Mab, not from anyone. You enjoy the hunt, and the challenge, but to agree to such a request without a kill at the end? That’s not like you.” The Wolf continued to stare at us, his face betraying nothing. “Why are you really here?” I asked. “What do you want?”
“The only thing he really cares about—” A disembodied voice came from overhead, and Grimalkin appeared in the branches of a tree, nearly twenty feet off the ground. “Power.” The hair on the Wolf ’s back and shoulders bristled, though he gazed at Grimalkin with a faint, evil smile on his long muzzle. “hello, cat,” he said conversationally. “I thought I caught your stench creeping through the air. Why not come down here and talk about me?” 68/387
“Do not demean yourself by stating the ridiculous,” Grimalkin replied smoothly. “Just because my species is vastly superior does not mean you should f launt your idiocy so freely. I know why you are here, dog.”
“Really,” Puck called, craning his head to look up at the cat. “Well then, would you like to share your theory, Furball?” Grimalkin sniffed. “Do you people not know anything?” Standing up, he walked along the branch, the Wolf ’s gaze following him hungrily.
“He is here because he wishes to add his name to your tale. His power, his entire existence, comes from stories, from myths and legends and all the dark, frightening and amusing tales about him that humans have invented over the years. It is how the Big Bad Wolf has survived for so long. It is how you have survived for centuries, Goodfel ow.
Surely you know this.”
“Well, yeah, of course I knew that,” Puck scoffed, crossing his arms.
“But that still doesn’t tell me why Wolfman is being so helpful all of a sudden.”
“You are on a quest,” the Wolf went on, finally tearing his gaze away from the cat to look at me. “The queen told me of this. That you, a soul ess and immortal being, wish to become human for the mortal you love.” He paused and shook his head in grudging admiration, or perhaps pity. “That is a story. That is a tale that will endure for genera-tions, if you can survive the trials, of course. But even if you don’t, even if this tale becomes a tragedy, my name will still be in it, adding to my strength.” He narrowed his eyes, staring me down. “Of course, it would be a better tale if you manage to reach your destination. I can help you in that respect. It will make the story longer anyway.”
“What makes you think we need, or want, your help?” Grimalkin asked loftily.
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