Seven

EVEREST STEPPED DOWN into the gully and laid the skeleton wolf down on the grass. One by one, the rest of the group followed Everest below the ground as the cactus filled in above them. Wink and Basil stayed near the entrance . . . what was left of it. Stacy noticed her wolves seemed a little uneasy and then realized what the reason must be. We’re outnumbered. Four wolves to three. Stacy walked back to Wink and Basil and put a hand on each of them and whispered to them.

“These wolves are special, just like you both,” Stacy said. “It’s going to be okay.”

Stacy turned and walked over and knelt by the skeleton wolf. She ran her hand down his lean frame.

“Ribsy,” Stacy said softly. “That’s what I’m going to call you. Here, have something to eat.”

Stacy reached into her satchel and pulled out her jar of peanut butter. She knew the treat would be rich in protein and fat and would be good for the gaunt wolf. The wolf eagerly ate the peanut butter, and Stacy watched in amazement as Ribsy’s rib cage swelled and filled out. His bones were no longer visible. He licked the jar clean and laid his head down to rest. The female wolf came over and nuzzled Stacy’s shoulder, grateful for her help.

“Of course, girl,” Stacy said, taking the wolf’s head in both her hands and rubbing her ears for a proper introduction. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Stacy plucked the cactus flower that was stuck to the wolf’s neck and tucked it into the thick fur around the wolf’s ear. Next, Stacy carefully removed the sharp needles buried in the wolf’s pelt next to where the flower had been. A small drop of bright red blood appeared where Stacy pulled out the biggest needle. She quickly untied the bandanna around her collar and wrapped it around the wolf’s neck, then sat back to admire how pretty the green-eyed wolf was with the purple cactus flower and the magenta bandanna. Stacy looked at the bandanna’s intricate paisley pattern.

“Paisley,” Stacy said. “I think that name suits you.”

Paisley licked Stacy’s face, and the whole mood of the underground chamber seemed to lighten. Basil and Wink appeared less tense. And Stacy turned her attention to the other two wolves, completely unprepared for what she was about to see.

The other two wolves had been cowering in the corner of the underground space. A male and a female. The male wolf almost looked like a ghost. But not in the sense that he was wasting away, like Ribsy had been when Stacy first encountered him. No, this wolf appeared healthy and large . . . but had silver fur that was so fluffy and fine that it was almost translucent. Stacy stared at him, transfixed. The wolf’s fur reminded her of the baby goslings she had seen last spring at the river with Noah. Their fuzzy down had been so soft and airy. Stacy had described them in her journal as feeling like what she imagined it would be to touch a wispy cloud. His eyes were bright blue, like the sky on a particularly sunny day. They stared back at Stacy intensely.

Stacy turned to study the female next to him. Her hind legs were sat down, submerged in the shallow pond, while her front half was sitting up, elegant and poised, but subdued and still . . . statuesque even. She got up from the water and walked over to Stacy to greet her. Out of the water, her fur hardened into place. Stacy ran her fingers down the wolf’s back. Her coat was stiff and so brittle that Stacy hoped she wasn’t in any pain. But she was. The wolf winced a little at Stacy’s soft touch. Ribsy ran over to the wolf, pressing his body against hers. Her fur softened a bit and Ribsy grew leaner. He helped her back over to the pond and into the water and then collapsed, looking weary and skeletal again. I don’t know what is going on here, but it’s not good, Stacy thought to herself so Everest could hear her. I thought it was only Ribsy who was in bad shape, but this female wolf seems even worse. This pack definitely isn’t thriving here in the mesa . . . in fact, they seem to be barely surviving. Everest nodded glumly. Stacy was unsure what her next step should be. She was suddenly filled with remorse that the two wolves who had stayed behind in the taiga were exactly the two wolves whose powers might have been of use to the mesa wolf pack. Tucker, if he himself was healed, could fix whatever seemed to be ailing the female wolf in the water. And Stacy would love to consult with Addison about what she thought was happening with Ribsy. Perhaps the tundra explorer’s journal mentions this pack in the pages I haven’t translated?

Stacy sat down and flipped to a random page in the middle of the journal. Here goes nothing. She began quickly translating one sentence at a time until she had decoded an entire diary entry. She hastily read through it, scanning for any mention of the mesa wolves.

Time flies! I can scarcely believe we’ve made five visits to the tundra already this year. When we moved away from the tundra seven years ago when I became pregnant, we’d given up hope completely that Ames and Diamond would ever produce pups. Imagine our surprise when we discovered Diamond was pregnant on our routine trip to the tundra this year. We’ve been visiting as often as possible making preparations for the birthing and today was the big day. Diamond birthed five pups beginning at 05:19 this morning. Three males and two females. We won’t know what color eyes they have for a week or two, but all appear to be strong and healthy. We’ve only been back in the tundra about a week, but plan to stay here for the next several weeks to monitor the pups’ progress. Ames has made remarkable improvements to our crude glacier home in the years we’ve been away—I daresay it’s almost palatial now with all the spacious additions he’s created.

Stacy stopped reading. She didn’t know what to do. She’d obviously picked the wrong entry, and every moment she spent translating the explorer’s journal was precious time they were wasting not helping these wolves. The explorer’s entry was interesting, but it provided no help to Stacy’s current situation.

If Addison were here, then she could read ahead. It would take me hours, if not days, to translate enough of it to find something. Stacy looked over to Ribsy and the female wolf who was now slumped next to Paisley; both wolves had sorrowful expressions. They didn’t have time for Stacy to translate the journal.

Stacy wasn’t sure exactly what she should do, but she knew that they all couldn’t stay in the small ditch in the mesa. We can’t take them all the way back to the taiga, Everest. I doubt they’d survive the journey. But let’s at least get them to the mineshaft and make them a decent meal. From there we can decide what to do next. Everest nodded in agreement and walked over to the large cloud-like wolf. There was a tense exchange between them, and for a moment, Stacy wondered if the mesa pack wouldn’t want to come with them. I can’t blame them. They just met us. And who even knows if they’ve interacted with a human before. Maybe they never met the tundra explorer. . . .

Stacy looked around at each pair of the wolves’ sad eyes: blue . . . black . . . green . . . aqua. Wait! The tundra explorer referred to them just as numbers in the rune. She never saw them up close. Everest, you need to explain to him who we are!

Everest continued to stare at the large wispy wolf. The wolf nodded occasionally, taking in everything Everest was showing him in his mind, just as Ames had done with Everest and Stacy in the tundra. After a while, Everest turned to Stacy and gave her a nod. They were ready to leave together.

Stacy looked up at the green-and-purple cacti canopy covering them—the sky had turned the same shade as the purple cactus. Twilight. It would be a difficult journey back to the mineshaft with the two weakened wolves and an exhausted Paisley. But Stacy was determined to save this pack.

“All right everyone,” Stacy said, standing up. “Let’s get going. If we’re lucky we can make it to the mineshaft before nightfall.”