The Venomancer

II.2 - The Wolves' Weakness

Tan shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Wandering aimlessly for the past day I suppose. Perhaps fretting for my whereabouts. Dingo enjoys his own company, but waiting around never suited him much. It wouldn't shock me if he's in a mood." He raised his fingers to his mouth and issued a high pitched whistle, slurring down the octave as he blew. "That's our signal. He'll know I've returned and come find me." He whistled again after a few minutes just to be sure.

"Well?" Cassa said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Your signal obviously doesn't seem to work. You'd need a hunting horn for anybody to hear you down in Gamlakh, you know. Did you agree on a meeting place?"

"Not exactly."

"Another form of communication?"

"No."

"A time?"

"Yes, but you kindly scuppered that arrangement. I don't understand - he should be somewhere down there."

Something over Tan's shoulder caught Cassa's attention and the guard's teeth clenched at once, his pupils mere pinpricks in his eyes. He let out a savage roar, snatched up his lance and shoved Tan aside with his blade inclined. On the other side of the fork a ten-foot beast prowled towards them with its ears forward and head low. A growl rumbled in its enormous throat, and Cassa's blade nor snarling face seemed to deter it. Tan spun around and latched onto his wrist.

"Cassa! No!"

"Tandei, get back!" Cassa cried, jabbing at the beast's heaving ribcage. "Daytime ghûls are dying ghûls! You don't know what it will do!"

"Cassa! Listen!" Tan rammed into his shoulder and the guard stumbled off balance, shooting him a glare. "This is Dingo."

"What did you say?"

"This is him. This is my companion."

Cassa visibly deflated. "Y-You cannot be serious. Tandei, this ... this ..." His eyes darted to the beast and back. Dingo was decidedly canine, though had bear-like facial features and the tufted, arched back of a hyena. He had a wolf's mane of shaggy white fur to match his horse's tail. Marked upon the sandy fur of Dingo's face, black stripes surrounded his narrowed, amber eyes, and extended down his muscular forelimbs.

"Dingo," Tan said, "this is Captain Faro of the Painted Guard."

Cassa threw down his lance and jerked Tan's collar, pulling him nose to nose. "You did not tell me your friend is a beast."

"Yes I did," Tan said breezily, "'the four-legged sort that trots across the desert killing hares', remember? I'd say that's ample description if you ask me. Now let go."

"That is no dingo. Dune-wolves would flee at the mere sight of it -"

"He," Tan corrected, unclasping Cassa's hand from his shirt. "Dingo is a he."

"He -" Cassa flung out his arm and pointed "- is a ghûl. You cannot befriend ghûls, Tandei, not even oddities like you. They are cursed beings, dead beings, driven by the taste of blood. Very dangerous. How you tamed one is beyond my comprehension." Beside them, the beast gave a wet snort.

"I promise you that you're safe, Cassa. You too, Dingo: Cassa won't harm you." Tan approached Dingo with a soft touch to his jaw and unbelted the bridle from around his face. He ran his fingers through the beast's velvet mane; a tactile pleasure since he'd been a boy.

Dingo opened his mouth wide and flexed his tongue, then nudged Tan accusatorily in the chest with his nose. "Did I not tell you, child? No pets."

"It talks!?" Cassa bellowed, reeling backwards.