The Book of the Barghest

CHAPTER TWO

It had to be her fault. It was the only way she could justify the empty silence trailing behind her as she shuffled off to some

unknown place.

Manta had thought back, replaying her day with the pups back again in her head. Could she have made a mistake somewhere? Did she feed them the wrong thing, or let them drink from filthy water? Had they been stung or bitten by something while she was looking away? She could have sworn she’d kept a close eye on them, but there was always room for error when only one pair of eyes was responsible for keeping watch over five restless little bodies. Still, how could that

possibly be her fault?

Years with Whitewave told her it had to be so. The Lake Pack Alpha had proven himself just on every occasion she’d born witness to. He had practically raised her, taking her in before he had pups to call his own. He’d called her their big sister, trusted her, and loved her as deeply as family; that was the only reason she’d been allowed to leave still breathing when it was clear Gar wanted nothing more than to skin her, then and there.

Manta had been arrogant and selfish. The signs were all there, after all; dead things littered all around her near-constantly.

It was excusable at first, just patches of wilted flowers here and there. Then it began to spread, and suddenly every step she’d ever taken was marked out in a path of dead vegetation and grayed water.

Then came the illness, taking the young and old in a sparse pattern. Still, Whitewave looked the other way and put the pups in her care for the day as he and Gar handled some business with the Oracle. Just a day. They’d been perfectly fine, running and jumping and playing and bickering. She’d led them back, exhausted but lively, to the alpha den where they were certain

to be safe.

And then Gar’s screams woke Manta from her sleep.

She, like every other wolf, rushed from where she’d been comfortably resting only to see Gar running out of her den and throwing herself to the ground as she wailed in agony. Whitewave walked out of the den somberly, carrying his limp pups out two at a time and laying them in a line in front of his mate’s paws. Manta’s breaths had hitched in her throat, and she could feel her heart stop when Gar’s eyes traveled up to meet hers.

All of it had been a blur, and she could hardly recall anything. Hazy voices fighting one another, Gar demanding Manta be put to death with her children, Whitewave begging for Gar to see reason, Gar threatening to kill Manta herself if the alpha didn’t take action, Whitewave’s heavy and clouded eyes as he told Manta that she was no longer welcome in Lake Pack, the mix of hate-filled glares and fearful stares as she distanced herself from the only place she’d called home … Every memory; it was all there, just far away.

Manta being at fault was the only way she could make sense of it all.

There had to be justice in this somewhere, she just couldn’t see it yet. Regardless, she would bear this burden with a bold face and no remorse as she always did to boost the confidence of the little ones around her. There were no more little ones but she had to be strong, even if she didn’t know who she was being strong for anymore.

~CL1