Rune was waiting by her chair, ears pricked forward. She waggled the can of hash at him. “Interested?”
“I don’t think so.” He wrinkled his nose. “Whatever’s in there died a long time ago.”
“Well, try some. It will save time.” Using the opener, she removed the lid and upended the can on the packed dirt floor. The wolf nosed it, shrugged his furry shoulders, and began to eat. Although hesitant at first, once he’d taken a couple of bites, he snarfed down the rest.
She went to work on the beans and sausage, eating with her fingers. Everything tasted okay. She saved the peaches with their sticky syrup for last. “Go capitalism,” she muttered, popping the last peach into her mouth. The canned good manufacturers probably underestimated the shelf life of their products on purpose to make people buy more. She looked around the twelve by twelve subterranean space. It had been underneath their kitchen. In addition to the faded, corduroy easy chair, there was a card table with four chairs, shelves built into every wall, and hooks for a kerosene lantern. Her father hadn’t been sure there’d be enough ventilation to use it for very long, but two five-gallon tins of kerosene sat in one corner, along with their battered Coleman lantern and a supply of mantles she was certain had long since turned to dust.
Her family. This was the last of what was left of them and their home. Not very fucking much. Resisting an urge to sift through the rubble above to see if she could find anything else left, she set the peach can on the floor. The bomb shelter had been built before she was born. She remembered playing down here on hot summer days when the temperature climbed into the nineties in Salt Lake.
Rune’s voice broke into her memories. “I thought we were in a hurry, human.”
“Yes.” She shot out of the chair as if the wolf had bitten her, disgusted with herself for her unauthorized trip into yesterday-land. “We are.”
“Where are we going?”
She pulled the door open, withdrew the magic supporting her light, and cocked her head to one side. “Can you help when we travel?”
“Certainly. You did not ask.”
Certainly, her inner voice mimicked. As if I knew I had to.
“Well,” she ventured, aiming for a neutral tone, “I’d really appreciate it. We have a long way to go.”
“I need to know our destination.”
“I can’t tell you.”
Rune, who’d started up the stairs, whipped his body around. Golden wolf eyes glared down at her, glinting amber in the low light. “I am your bond animal. There are no secrets between us.”
“I shouldn’t have a bond animal,” she argued, pushing past him up the steps. “I already told you. I’m not a Hunter.”
“Yes,” he insisted, “you are.”
They were still quarreling when they emerged into daylight. Realizing too late that she should have been more cautious, she sent magic scattering in a full circle, seeking threats.
“I already checked,” Rune informed her haughtily. “If there had been danger, I would not have allowed you above ground.”
Aislinn rolled her eyes. Not only did she have a talking wolf who was convinced he was bonded to her, now the wolf had decided he was her guardian angel. Ignoring him, she began setting up her magic so they could leave. Spell mostly in place, she whistled for Rune. He was facing away from her, sniffing something about fifty feet away. He didn’t turn around. “Rune,” she hissed, struggling to contain the spell. It tugged at her, ready to launch itself. “We’re ready.”
He swiveled his head to look back at her over one shoulder. “Oh,” he inquired caustically, “are we?”
“Fine.” She threw up her hands. Her spell lost its punch. Christ, but she hated to waste magic. “Did you decide you’re not coming?”
“I don’t know.” He turned to face her.
She opened her mouth to answer, and then it fell open. “You just answered me,” she sputtered. “And not in mind speech.”
“All bond animals can talk,” Rune informed her. “But only to our bonded one or others with the Hunter gift.” His voice was deep and rumbly, sort of like a friendly grizzly bear.
Aislinn sank to a convenient piece of concrete. “Look.” She held out her hands. “I have no training in Hunter magic. Zero. Zip. Zilch. I’m a Mage with weak Seeker ability. At least, that’s what I thought I was. Also, I’m used to working alone. I like it that way. That doesn’t make me very good partner material.”
Rune walked a bit closer. He hung his head. “You probably should know my last human was killed in a Bal’ta raid led by Tokhots. I tried to protect her, but she did not listen to me. I killed all those godless whelps, except Tokhots, that murdered my bonded one. He vanished as soon as the first few Bal’ta died.” The wolf’s lower jaw quivered. He threw back his head, and one long, low, anguished howl burst from him. “You were the first Hunter I’ve come across since her death. I listened outside that cabin when you bargained with the dead. I liked what I heard.” The wolf hesitated for a long time before his next words. “If you truly do not want me, I will seek another. I do not want a forced bond. Even though the laws say I could kill you for refusing me, I would not do that.”