The Hunter Read Online Free Page B

A very dry rock.
    Braldt heard a whimper and turned to look for the source and then realized that it was he, himself. Something soft and warm
     brushed against his leg and he tottered back and forth for several steps and then looked down. The lupebeast pup, the one
     he had not slain, regarded him curiously and then trotted off, stopping and turning to look back at him as though commanding
     him to follow.
    Braldt stared dumbly at the animal. “Is that you,’Tallo?” he mumbled. “Have you come back as a ‘beast’? Shouldn’ta died. Maybe I’ll die too. Both be beasts then. Hate flies,
     don’ wanna live ina cave with flies though. Hafta find another cave without flies…” Overcome by fever and the poison that
     raged through his body, Braldt staggered after the tiny pup as it led him deeper and deeper into the darkness of the cave.
     Finally, when he felt he could go no farther, he heard the sound of water, a steady drip, drip, drip echoing in the darkness.
    His feet, so unreliable and unfeeling, took him unnervingly to the source of the sound, a broad, shallow pool of water carved
     into the rock by a steady seepage from above. He collapsed then, falling heavily on his ravaged arm, the pain hitting him
     like a solid blow to the belly. He inched his way forward, nudging into the pool like a turtle forsaking the land, and let
     the cool water lave his hot skin, filling his mouth with the precious liquid, feeling it slide down his parched throat and
     salve his burning flesh. He slithered farther into the water, allowing it to bathe his fearsome wound and cool his fevered
     body.
    Braldt lay there until he began to shiver and then crawled back out onto the floor of the cave. The pup sat beside his head,
     staring down at him with wide, serious eyes. He had not seen it come, it simply appeared. He wondered if he had killed it
     and forgotten and now it too was a spirit. He wondered if he too were dead; if both of them were ghosts. Braldt closed his
     eyes against the solemn regard of the pup, for he had no answers to its questions or even his own.
    When he opened his eyes again, the cave was in darkness, and it occurred to him that he had slept and that it was night again
     for the second or perhaps even the third time since he had killed the shebeast. He was still fevered and thirsty as well.
     He dragged himself back to the pool to drink again and felt a warm weight pressing against his side. Looking down, he discovered
     the lupebeast pup, no spirit and real enough from the feel of it, snuggled against him, rolled in a tight, furry ball. He
     drank and then, drawing the small creature to him, slept again.
    His sleep was filled with images. Artallo was there, sitting by his side, warming him with his presence, talking to him earnestly,
     trying to tell him something of importance. Something that he knew was the most important thing in the world, something that
     would solve all the problems he would ever have, give him all the knowledge he would ever need. Try as he might, though, he
     could not hear anything that Artallo said. His mouth moved but there was no sound. He strained to see, and then Artallo sprouted
     tall ears, lupebeast ears that rose high above his head. His face elongated and became a lupebeast muzzle, long and narrow
     and filled with rows of sharp teeth. His eyes were no longer blue but amber-colored. Yellow. And even as Braldt watched, the
     face of his friend became that of the pup, watching him with quiet concern. And then the lupebeast that was Artallo spoke
     to him and told him to sleep without dreams, to heal without hurt, and then the light faded and took the strange images away.

    Light streamed in from above, shining directly in Braldt’s eyes. His body was one enormous throbbing ache and he could not
     remember the last time he had eaten. He turned his head toward the water and saw the pup sitting beside his head, just as
     he had in the dream. He no longer thought that he was a