Jess Lebow - The Darksteel Eye

Sure enough, as she came around the back side of the brambles, she saw a large pile of freshly disturbed ground. Metal shavings and big chunks of heavy minerals had been discretely piled up behind the stump.

The elf dropped to her knees, but razor sharp vines hung over the pile, making it impossible for her to reach it without cutting herself to ribbons. Standing back up, she lifted her sword and hacked down on the vines.

Sharpened brambles parted before her blade, but when she pulled back for another swing, they popped back into shape. Her blade could hold them down or cut off little shreds, but it would never be able to clear them all away. Her weapon was useless.

A heavy pounding shook the ground. From around a tall tree stepped the iron golem, Bosh.

A glimmer of hope entered the elf. “Help, Bosh, quick,” shouted Glissa. “Slobad’s trapped under this stump.”

Without a word the golem took hold of the entire pile of debris, lifting free not only the fallen tree but the brambles as well.

Glissa dropped once again to the ground and began digging away the piled-up earth. The metal shavings cut the fleshy parts of her hands, but she frantically pawed at the ground. Though she pushed and pulled with every ounce of strength she had, the pile remained nearly the same size. She wasn’t even making a dent.

“Bosh, help,” she shouted. “He’s going to die if he doesn’t get some air.”

A large furry paw came from nowhere, knocking Glissa to one side.

“What the-” The elf looked up at Al-Hayat.

“Leave this to me,” he said, and the wolf began to dig.

Glissa got to her feet and dusted herself off. The wolf dug swiftly into the mound of loose earth, tossing it away many times faster than the elf ever could have hoped to. Al-Hayat stuck his great snout into the hole and pulled it back out-Slobad’s limp body dangling between his front teeth. The goblin was covered in scrapes and bruises.

Once again, Glissa’s heart dropped. “Is he-?”

The wolf lowered the goblin to the ground, and Glissa rushed to his side. Placing her hand along his neck, she felt for a pulse.

“He is still breathing,” said the wolf.

Glissa nodded. “He’s alive, but just barely.” She turned to Al-Hayat. “Can you help him?”

“Me? What makes you think a wolf can cure a dying goblin?”

Glissa turned her attention to Slobad’s unconscious body. “Until only a minute ago, I thought wolves were just stories.” She shrugged. “If you’re a make-believe creature, who says you can’t heal a goblin?” She shook her head. “Now I really do sound like a crazy elf.”

The wolf gave a throaty chuckle.

“You’re right.”

Stepping over both the kneeling elf and the prone goblin, Al-Hayat pushed his muzzle into Slobad’s belly. The great beast growled, a deep, resonant sound that shook the ground and the goblin.

Tiny motes of light coalesced around the wolf’s face, growing in size and number as they circled. The twisting mass of magical energy formed a brightly lit ring that circled Al-Hayat’s head. The wolf went silent, and the ring dropped from the air as if it were suddenly pulled to earth by gravity. The light seeped into the goblin’s skin, and the forest creature stepped away from his patient.

“I have done all I can do,” he said.

Slobad’s body jerked, followed by a tremendous hacking cough. Metal shavings and small chunks of mineral sprayed from the goblin’s mouth, and he sat up.

“Where Slobad, huh?”

Glissa gathered him up in a huge embrace. “You’re in the Tangle, running from a band of levelers who just attacked the Tree of Tales.”

Slobad nodded. “Whew,” he said, “Good. Goblin dozed off, huh? Dreamed Slobad eaten by giant bug.”

Glissa held Bosh’s hand in both of her own. It was so big, she could hardly get all five of her fingers around one of his. Carefully, the elf pulled shards of razor vine from the fleshy parts of the golem’s palm.

“It hurts,” said the golem.

“I’m sorry,” replied Glissa. “If I had realized that the fleshy parts had spread so far, I wouldn’t have been so quick to ask you to move that stump.”

“If you hadn’t, Slobad would have died.”

Glissa smiled. “You’re right. You did a brave thing, Bosh, especially knowing that you’d get hurt.” She pulled another large chunk of razor vine from his palm. The wound was deep, and Bosh’s hand filled with blood.

“What is that?”

“Blood,” said Glissa.

“What does it do?”

“It keeps people alive.”

Bosh looked at it intently, tipping his hand from side to side and letting it swish around. “Does it keep me alive?”

Glissa thought about it. She didn’t know. In elves, blood coursed through their veins, feeding their body and keeping their insides clean. In a metal golem, there were no veins, no need to feed anything.

Finally she said, “I’m not sure Bosh, but until we find out, it’s best that you keep as much of that-” she pointed to the pool of blood in his hand-“inside of you as possible.” She pulled the last bit of metal from his flesh. “Let’s wrap it in a vine for now, see if we can’t get it to stop.”

Glissa went to a nearby tree and pulled down several ropelike vines with wide leaves attached to them. As she turned, she caught a glimpse of Al-Hayat and Slobad. The wolf had curled up on the ground, and the goblin had climbed onto the forest creature’s fur. Both seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

After tying a quick bandage around Bosh’s hand with the vine, Glissa walked over to the napping pair.

She watched them. This wolf, a creature she had thought all of her life to be something of fantasy, had appeared and saved the day. Had that taken place only a few months before, she might have been surprised. Now nothing seemed impossible.

Al-Hayat’s ears twitched, and the great four-legged beast lifted its head.

“You’re awake,” said Glissa.

“I never really sleep,” replied the wolf. “It’s not a luxury I can afford.”

The elf knelt down in front of Al-Hayat’s muzzle. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You just did.”

The elf smiled. “No, I mean, I grew up in the Tangle, hunting and ranging all around in the forest. How come I never ran into one of your kind?”

“We have become very good at hiding,” he said, with a sigh. “As well, I am one of only a very few.”

“Why aren’t there more?”

“There were,” replied the wolf. “The pack has dwindled with every moon cycle since I was but a pup. Many have been killed by hunters or levelers. Now the remaining few are scattered around the forest, for our own protection. It’s harder to kill us all if we don’t stay bunched up.” The wolf looked down at the sleeping goblin then back at Glissa. “Unlike most other beasts in the forest, wolves stay with their mates for life, so there are fewer and fewer young ones each year.”

“Where’s your mate?”

The wolf let out a low growl. “She was taken from me last moon cycle.” The words were obviously painful for Al-Hayat.

“I’m sorry,” replied Glissa. Her curiosity was piqued, but she didn’t want to push the subject any further. “May I ask you another question?”

“Ask as many as you like.”

“Why, if you distrust others so much, did you show yourself to me?”

“What makes you think I distrust others?”

“You hide from the elves so well they think you’re nothing more than a legend. If I were only one of a few, I wouldn’t trust anyone either. Better to keep my distance and stay alive.”

“A wise choice.”

“Then why did you help us?”

“Because the fate of the wolves doesn’t have to be the fate of all.”