2

I rolled up the hide map and stood to leave.

Two wolves hurried after me, a trace of awkwardness on their faces.

"Elara, we asked the elders about it privately."

"Your route is the safest one."

"We don't dare take the shortcut. We're afraid something might happen in the gorge."

"We'd rather go with the main column. Is that all right?"

I remembered those she-wolves.

Last time they never joined in the shouting, and they weren't among the ones jeering at the altar.

I was quiet for a while, then gave a small nod.

Before long four more young wolves came looking for me, two males and two females, all of them known in the pack for being steady.

Including me and the three Alphas, we numbered ten: a small but properly organized migration party.

Across the stone hall, Rebecca braced her paws on the platform and counted heads.

She had gathered thirty-two young wolves.

Most were males who liked to show off, along with a few attention-seeking females. Nearly all were faces I recognized from the crowd that had jeered in my past life.

Rebecca spotted our scant group of ten and laughed out loud.

"People really volunteered for all that trouble? This trip takes half a bag of rations, and Elara is turning it into a three-bag production."

"Once we've taken the richest river valley in the south, they'll have something to cry about."

"Elara probably talked them into handing over extra supplies!"

The thirty-odd wolves around her howled with laughter, every word of it mockery.

"All those extra supplies are nothing but a scam. You're just getting fleeced by the traditionalists."

"If you've got that much food to spare, come take a chance with us instead. It'll be a lot more fun."

I glanced at those blindly overconfident fools and felt only contempt.

Of the thirty-two wolves marching into Blackwind Gorge, they would be lucky if even half returned in one piece.

I turned to the packmates beside me and said evenly, "Remember to bring your cloaks, and keep your firestarter on you at all times. The Alphas and healers will distribute the herbs and rations. You don't need to prepare your own."

A male loitering nearby heard the part about firestarters and jeered at the top of his voice.

"Firestarters on the main road? Don't you have anything better to do?"

The laughter rose again. I ignored it and set the departure time.

"Meet at the pack entrance at dawn three days from now."

Then I walked out and left the talk behind me.

Every one of them was lost in dreams of arriving early and claiming the best hunting grounds.

None of them knew that the poison fog and killers in the gorge were waiting to swallow them whole.

When I got home, I told my father, Roland Vale, about our party of ten.

My family had guarded the Blackwind border for generations. Every danger in the gorge was carved into our memories.

With the moon phases working against us, my father took no chances even on the established road. He packed my gear himself.

The party had four off-road trucks: two for the sick or injured and two reserved for supplies.

We packed three times the usual amount of rations, clean water, and dried meat, along with heavy fur cloaks and windproof sleeping bags for everyone.

A leather satchel was filled with herbs to counter venom and poison fog, stop bleeding, and fight infection. We also carried three signal whistles.

My father crouched beside the supplies, checked the list, and said in a low voice, "With the moon phases like this, our blood-sense is far weaker than usual, and the road's stone markers are easily obscured. In wet weather, even your nose is useless. The whole route depends on the three Alphas knowing the way, so stay close to them. And don't skimp on supplies. The rogues are already stirring. Don't begrudge the food; you need strength to fight."

I nodded and continued counting the herb packets when a pounding suddenly sounded at the den door.

Claws struck the wooden frame, fast and hard.

I got up and opened it. Stefan and Rebecca were blocking the doorway, one on each side.