Chapter Thirty-Seven: Pyrewolf

  Three more days was how long it took for Ash to clear out the rest of the mine. Each section had presented its own challenge, with packs of wolves guarding their territory with savage determination. By the end, he had collected enough claws, eyes, and hearts to make a tidy sum. He made enough from the wolf corpses to clear a good chunk of his debt to Skori, but he had to borrow a little more coin to get another fire resist potion. That purchase had been necessary; he wasn't going to face the dire wolf without proper preparation.

  Now, he stood at the narrow path he was certain led to the fire dire wolf's den. The stone walls around him radiated intense heat, almost like standing too close to a blacksmith's forge. The air shimmered visibly, distorting everything beyond a few feet ahead. Even the rock beneath his boots glowed cherry red, as if molten from within.

  If it weren't for his ice-aspected elar and the fire resistance potion coursing through his veins, he would be cooking alive right now. Sweat still beaded on his brow despite the protection, rolling down his temples and dampening his shirt beneath his leather armor.

  Lilith, however, didn't seem to mind the heat in the least. The small dragon walked beside him, her scales glinting with reflected crimson light from the glowing stones. He had been worried at first about bringing her into such extreme conditions and had almost insisted she stay back at the entrance. But she had merely upturned her nose at his concern and strode confidently over the heated rock as if it were completely normal. Her draconic nature clearly gave her some innate resistance to fire that he hadn't fully appreciated before.

  Ash didn't press the issue then, respecting her pride.

  "The dire wolf is ahead, Lils. I guess we've come to it," he said, his voice low as it echoed off the stone walls. His grip tightened on his sword's handle as he peered down the tunnel, trying to see what awaited them.

  Lilith flicked a wing dismissively, projecting unconcerned thoughts within his mind. Her confidence radiated through their bond like a cool breeze.

  "Ha! Nothing's a challenge for a dragon, is that it?" Ash couldn't help but smile at her unwavering self-assurance.

  Lilith lifted her head proudly, as if to say it wasn't even a question worth asking. Her green eyes gleamed with anticipation rather than fear. To her, this was merely another opportunity to prove her growing strength.

  Ash's smile widened despite the danger ahead. Her confidence was infectious. He gripped his sword more firmly, the familiar weight of it reassuring in his hand. Taking another cautious sip of the fire resistance potion, feeling the liquid coat his throat with a cool sensation that spread throughout his body, he stepped forward into the sweltering heat.

  The chamber ahead was the deepest level of the mine, which had been transformed into something akin to a volcanic den. Every rock glowed with crimson heat, casting the entire cavern in a hellish light that made shadows dance along the walls. The ceiling was high, disappearing into darkness above, while the floor was uneven, with raised sections of stone forming natural platforms.

  What caught Ash's attention immediately were the strange circles with unfamiliar symbols inlaid into the stone floor. They formed a pattern around the center of the chamber, pulsing with a dull, red glow that seemed to breathe with the heat of the room.

  What are those for? Ash wondered, his curiosity momentarily distracting him. Some kind of script, perhaps? He wasn't able to think about it much longer because his attention was suddenly seized by movement at the center of the chamber.

  From a depression in the center of the room rose a massive, flaming wolf. It was nearly twice the size of the others they had faced, its shoulders easily reaching Ash's chest. Veins of dark fire shot through its body of black rock and ash, pulsing like blood vessels beneath the surface. As it rose to its full height, Ash could see that its eyes had no pupils; they were simply orbs of living flame that burned with malevolent intelligence. Its paws and claws were wreathed in that same fire, leaving smoldering footprints on the stone as it moved.

  The wolf opened its maw, revealing teeth of obsidian, and flame shot forth from it steadily, like a blacksmith's bellows. The heat intensified, pushing against Ash like a physical force.

  Ash instinctively stepped backward, shielding his face with one arm despite his protections. Lilith stood firm at the entrance, her small form tense but unafraid. Her eyes stayed fixed on the wolf as it breathed, every exhalation releasing clouds of smoke and licks of fire that curled upward toward the ceiling.

  The creature began to stalk to the side, head low, eyes focused intently on Ash. Its movements were deliberate, predatory, gauging its opponent before striking. The fiery veins pulsed more rapidly as it circled, preparing to attack.

  Ash drew on his elar, calling forth his frost dragon wings technique. The crystalline appendages materialized from his back, spreading wide and radiating cold. They did little to counter the overwhelming heat of the chamber, but they provided some relief, creating a small pocket of cooler air around him. More importantly, they would strengthen his defenses against the coming attack.

  The fire dire wolf's eyes narrowed as Ash dashed towards it, using the form of the falling frost dragon. His sword glinted in the firelight as he brought it down in a powerful arc aimed at the wolf's neck.

  Lilith's thoughts suddenly flooded his mind with shock, quickly turning into urgent warnings. Before his blade could connect, the wolf burst into pure fire, its solid form dissolving into a whirling vortex of flame.

  Ash's sword passed harmlessly through the fire, dispersing it momentarily but causing no damage. The flames scattered, then began to coalesce again, reforming behind him with unnatural speed.

  Lilith's warning came again as a vivid image of the wolf reforming behind him, attacking with a fiery paw. The mental message was so clear that Ash reacted instinctively.

  He whirled around, ducking low as the thought hit his mind. The wolf's flaming claws passed over his head, close enough that he felt the heat singe his hair. The acrid smell of burnt hair filled his nostrils as he rolled away, pushing off the hot stone with his hands and bounding back to his feet. He brought his blade up into a guard formation, eyes fixed on the dire wolf.

  The wolf launched itself at him again, snarling with a sound like crackling flames. What should have been saliva dripped from its jaws as liquid fire, sizzling against the stone floor.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Acting on instinct rather than thought, Ash folded his frost wings over himself like a protective cocoon. Just in time, the fire claws raked against his improvised shield, sending steam exploding outward as extreme heat met intense cold. He cried out as some of the heat penetrated his defenses, scalding the skin of his arms and face.

  Despite the pain, he had successfully defended against the attack. He rolled away again, putting distance between himself and the wolf. Reaching up with his other hand, he winced as pain flared at his touch. The burns stung, but they weren't severe. Just a slight reddening of the skin, nothing that would impede his fighting ability.

  The wolf howled, the sound like the roar of a forge. It jerked its head downward and sprayed a rush of flame in a wide arc before it, creating a wall of fire between itself and Ash.

  Left with no choice, Ash drew more deeply on his elar, increasing the effectiveness of his technique. The frost wings grew larger, radiating more intense cold. He swept them forward, sending a wave of freezing air into the flames.

  Once more, steam discharged in a billowing cloud as the opposing elements clashed. This time Ash was ready for it, moving backward to avoid being scalded by the superheated vapor.

  As the steam began to dissipate, Ash saw his opportunity. He ran around the edge of the steam cloud, jumping forward with his sword raised. He attacked the wolf with a quick slash before it could transform again.

  This time, his blade connected solidly with the wolf's flank. The metal bit into the creature's rocky hide, releasing not blood but sparks and embers. More importantly, the wolfsbane oil coating his blade went to work, sending void-like tendrils of necrosis through the wolf's body, preventing its regenerative abilities from healing the wound.

  The dire wolf let out an agonizing howl that shook loose stone from the ceiling. It burst into a cloud of fire once more, but this time the flames were tinged with black where the necrosis had taken hold.

  Ash gripped the handle of his sword tightly, knuckles whitening, the scalded skin around them burning with the tension. His eyes darted around the chamber, trying to anticipate where the wolf would reappear. He wondered why the book hadn't discussed the dire wolf's ability to transform into flame and reappear elsewhere. That seemed like a rather important detail to omit from a hunting guide.

  A clarion call of warning sounded within his mind from Lilith, sharp and urgent. But despite the early alert, he couldn't react fast enough. The dire wolf, its form reverberating with fire, bore down on him from above, having reformed near the ceiling of the cavern.

  The impact sent him crashing to the ground, knocking the breath from his lungs. His sword slipped from his grasp, clattering against the stone a few agonizing inches away. The weight of the wolf pinned him down, its heat searing through his clothing despite the protective potion.

  His frost wings shuddered with the strain, managing to form a thin layer of rime over parts of the wolf's burning body, but it wasn't enough to drive the creature away.

  The wolf's teeth gnashed inches from his face, seeking his throat. Ash turned his face away, desperately shoving his left arm between himself and the wolf's fangs as a makeshift shield. He hissed in pain as burns broke out across his skin where the beast's fiery breath touched him. The wolf's jaws clamped down, teeth biting through the leather covering his forearm and piercing clean through to the bone beneath.

  "AGH! FUCK!" The cry tore from his throat, raw and pained.

  Strangely, there was no blood from the wound, as the fire surrounding the wolf's teeth instantly cauterized any vessels it severed. The pain, however, was excruciating, a white-hot lance that shot up his arm and threatened to overwhelm his consciousness.

  The wolf jerked its head violently, trying to tear away a chunk of his arm. Ash had to draw even more deeply on his elar reserves to find the strength to keep the creature's head in place, preventing it from ripping his arm apart. He dismissed his frost wings, not wanting the steam from their contact with the wolf's flaming body to scald him further.

  With the wolf's teeth still embedded in his arm, Ash stretched his right hand out toward his fallen sword, gritting his teeth against the pain. The tips of his fingers brushed against the handle, tantalizingly close but still just out of reach. He was a mere inch shy of salvation.

  Frowning with determination, he pushed his head hard into the ground, using it as leverage as he strained to keep the wolf's fangs from his throat while simultaneously pushing against the creature's weight. He strained his arm to its limit, fighting to gain that crucial extra inch of reach.

  After what felt like an eternity of agony, his fingers finally closed around the sword's handle. The weapon felt impossibly light in his grasp, easily lifted despite his awkward position thanks to his elar-enhanced strength.

  The wolf bore down harder, its teeth gnashing closer to his face as it adjusted its grip on his arm. The pain in his forearm throbbed in time with his racing heartbeat, threatening to drag him into unconsciousness.

  Suddenly, a squeaky but fierce roar sounded from the entrance of the chamber. Lilith, her small form a blur of purple scales, crashed into the wolf's side with all her weight behind the attack.

  "Lilith! No!" Ash yelled, fear for his dragon companion momentarily eclipsing his own pain. The dire wolf was easily ten times her size and infinitely more dangerous to a small dragon hatchling.

  But her attack, while not doing significant damage, distracted the wolf just enough. With renewed determination born of both pain and the need to protect Lilith, Ash plunged his blade upward into the wolf's exposed neck with all his remaining strength.

  The sword sank deep, the wolfsbane oil working its necrotic magic once more. The wolf shook violently, its flames going berserk, flaring wildly in all directions. Lilith was knocked away by the thrashing creature, her small form going ominously still against the far wall.

  Then, with a sudden whoosh like a fire being extinguished, the dire wolf's eyes pulsated once and went dark as the necrotic tendrils from the wolfsbane lanced through its entire body. The flames covering it sputtered and died, leaving only a creature of blackened stone and ash.

  A moment later, the wolf went completely limp, its weight suddenly dead upon him. It fell over to the side as Ash pushed it away, finally freeing himself from its crushing mass.

  It was dead. The battle was over. Energy poured into his elan from the slain creature, and he felt a new essence join the winter within his core—something wild and hungry like a raging wildfire, fierce and consuming.

  Ash pushed himself upward with his good arm, his injured forearm vibrating with sharp pain and a burning sensation that wouldn't subside. His first concern wasn't for himself, however, but for Lilith.

  He crawled across the hot stone toward his companion, his body protesting every movement. To his immense relief, she was breathing steadily, her small chest rising and falling. Remarkably, she wasn't even singed by the wolf's flames, further evidence of her natural draconic resistance to fire.

  Not taking any chances, he retrieved his last healing potion from his belt and carefully administered it to her. The red liquid disappeared down her throat, and she shuddered, her eyes fluttering open moments later.

  "You've got to stop scaring me like this," Ash told her, his voice rough with emotion and the lingering effects of smoke inhalation.

  She blinked at him, then turned her head away with deliberate slowness, eyes closing as she sent him smugly satisfied thoughts. The mental images carried a distinct air of accomplishment and pride.

  "Oh, no way you're trying to claim credit for this kill," Ash said, unable to keep the amusement from his voice despite the pain still radiating from his arm.

  She projected an image of herself crashing into the wolf, clearly showing how her actions had allowed him the opening to make his attack. In her mind, the sequence of events was perfectly clear—without her intervention, he would have failed.

  "I was the one who dealt the final blow!" Ash protested, though there was no real irritation behind his words.

  Lilith merely shrugged her wings and lifted her head haughtily. The message was clear: he wouldn't have been able to win without her, so it was her kill. There was no other way to slice it, at least in her draconic reasoning.

  He laughed at her antics, but the motion sent pain lancing through his chest and arm. The laugh turned into a choking cough that left him momentarily breathless.

  "Ow. Let's not do that," he muttered, pressing his good hand against his ribs. Nothing seemed broken, but he'd certainly be feeling the bruises tomorrow.

  Once he caught his breath, he turned his attention to the wolf's corpse. The once-flaming creature was now a statue of black stone, crisscrossed with veins that had held fire but were now dark and lifeless. Its form was similar to the fire dire wolves he had read about, but something about it was different, more intense and powerful.

  "I don't think this is a fire dire wolf," he said thoughtfully, studying the remains. "I'm unsure what it is, but the book didn't describe anything like this transformation ability or these inscribed circles."

  His eyes were drawn again to the strange symbols on the floor, but they had ceased glowing with the wolf's death. Whatever their purpose, it seemed to be dormant now.

  Shrugging off the mystery for the moment, Ash returned to the next room where he had left his pack. The adrenaline of battle was fading, leaving him acutely aware of his injuries. The bite on his forearm was the worst—two puncture wounds that had burned through to the bone. Without a healing potion, all he could do was clean the wound as best he could and wrap it tightly with bandages from his supplies.

  The leather vambrace was torn beyond repair, hanging loosely from his forearm in tatters. He removed it completely, wincing as some of the charred leather stuck to his burned skin.

  With his arm bandaged, Ash grabbed two large bags, a knife, and a glass jar from his pack. The dire wolf—or whatever it was—would fetch a handsome price, perhaps enough to clear his debt entirely. Despite his injuries and exhaustion, a sense of accomplishment filled him. He had faced a formidable foe and emerged victorious.

  Then he went to carve up the wolf, collecting his hard-earned reward. The creature that had nearly killed him would now provide the means to further his goals. There was a certain poetic justice in that, Ash thought as he approached the beast's remains with his knife ready.