Here are some special sneak peeks to the final two books of the TUT trilogy, Shadowed and The Final Ember.
* NOTICE: You may NOT claim this writing as your own; that’s plagiarism, which is a serious crime.
* ANOTHER NOTICE: I’m still in the first draft process of these books, so it may change in the future.
Something lights up in the distance – a little flame. In this light, I see the shadowed face of the orange wolf. Its eyes glow golden yellow, narrowed slightly at me. Its muzzle is bright, snowy white in the light.
“Follow,” it says. For the first time, I realize two things. Firstly, the noise of the storm outside is now just a dull whir in the distance. Secondly, the flame is coming from this wolf’s forepaw, held up close to her face.
How . . . ?
She leads me down a tunnel, so small that we have to bend down to fit, our ears brushing the roof. After a few short moments, we emerge into a cavern lit by a large fire in the center. Surrounding it are a pawful of wolves, their coats ranging in color from gold to brown. Their eyes turn to face me, blinking at me as if a WaterWolf is the strangest thing they’ve ever laid eyes on.
Confused murmurs pass between the fire-colored wolves around the underground lair. There aren’t many of them – not even close to enough to make up a whole tribe. I’d guess around the same amount left in WaterTribe, which is about seven to ten. But they’re supposed to be dead. My head spins.
“I thought we weren’t allowed to bring in outsiders?” challenges one wolf, a particularly large male with a dark red pelt glowing in the faint light of the fire.
“I am Alpha,” my escort replies, “I do what I pleasure.”
“You’re setting a bad example, Alpha,” the large wolf growls.
“For whom, Wind?” the Alpha asks, a note of sarcasm in her tone. “The pups?”
The other wolf, Wind, retreats back to his place in the darkness, muttering under his breath. At first I don’t understand, until I notice that there isn’t a pup in sight.
The Final Ember
“We can’t go – can’t go back for her,” Hawk says quietly, his words heavy and shuddering.
“She . . . sh-she needs – us.”
Shard’s impatient anger that he’s so known for breaks out. “Didn’t . . . didn’t you see what they – did to her?” he snarls as well as a wolf can while being utterly exhausted. He takes a deep breath before continuing. “They ripped her throat out and tossed her in the ocean. No one can survive that; she’s dead.”
A silence stretches between all five of them. Finally Pebble begins to whimper, her beautiful face twisted in sorrow and crestfallen. “She shouldn’t’ve died,” she whispers, seemingly to herself. “She – she did nothing wrong . . .”
“Killing the innocent is what . . . ShadowWolves do best,” Anthill says with a pant. Murmurs of agreement follow her statement.
They keep going. They seem to be on an unspoken quest to find land. And with any luck, they’ll find a previously-undiscovered island inhabited by nothing but prey. Anything but fish, Shard thinks bitterly to himself. Fish are just another reason why WaterWolves –
He cuts his own thought short. He won’t allow himself to think that WaterWolves are disgusting; to honor Seaweed’s death. She really was a great wolf, even if she hated him.