WOLVES DON'T TALK

Chapter 6. I HATE WALKING

No one said a thing. The three of us intended to climb the mountain; we had to if we wanted to find the key. There wasn't any use in talking about it. Pythia sat down on the ground next to me. The wolf turned its back on both of us and stared off into the distance at the rocky peak. We stared with it.

The mountain didn't look threatening in the sunlight, but I knew better. A huge pit clung to its side about half-way up the slope. We couldn't see it just then because a layer of mist hung around the middle of the mountain, covering it up like a big belt. A Camp Sequoia legend claimed the pit to be the very brink of hell itself. And the mist wasn't fog but, rather, smoke rising off the brimstone lining it. Devils rose up out of the smoke and danced a fiery jig around its rim every midnight. The rest of the time, they tortured the suffering souls of sinners in its fiery depths. If you fell into it, you just kept right on falling and falling and burning and burning as you plunged past the searing brimstone. You would descend, tumbling head over heels forever in that bottomless abyss.

It was all true, too. I'd asked a forest ranger about it. He'd come to the camp to talk about safety in the woods, so I took advantage of the topic to make my inquiry. He grinned and blushed a little bit when I asked him about the devils, but then did something strange: His lips twitched when I pointed toward the mountain side where the pit was rumored to be.

"Don't ever go there," he said, looking deadly serious at me. "No one should go there."

The wolf didn't believe any of it. It scoffed at me when I explained about the pit and the devils.

"No such thing as devils," it snorted. "You're just a little girl who still believes in fairy tales."

That made me mad; that stupid Canis lupus with its snotty airs had a lot of nerve calling me a little girl and insulting my intelligence.

"No such thing as a talking wolf either," I snorted back at it. "No such thing as any kind of wolf at all in this part of the country."

That fixed its wagon. It gave me another one of its long orange-eyed glares and swished its tail angrily back and forth but didn't say another word.

"Well, I guess we'll find out," was Pythia's only comment on the whole conversation. "We should go quickly. The morning is almost gone and we have a long way to walk before dark," she added.

My heart rumbled in my chest. I hated walking and the thought of our destination didn't make me feel enthusiastic. I stood up anyway and prepared to move on. I'd promised to help and I'd meant it. However, I must have gotten up too quickly because my stomach took a wild turn, making me feel ill and dizzy. I leaned against a nearby tree to steady myself. Then I had an encouraging thought.

"We don't have to go up there at all," I said excitedly, almost forgetting my dizziness. "Pythia lost her key on the mountain. Right?" I directed my inquiry to the oracle, who nodded at me in reply. "So, you already looked for it up there and we don't have to go.

The wolf grinned at me.

"I bet she didn't meet any devils," it said, smirking and letting some drool drip out from between its sharp white teeth.

"So," I started to snap back at it, but stopped when I realized it might have a point.

"No, I didn't see any devils," Pythia said, almost managing to wrinkle her stony white brow as she spoke, like she was trying to remember something. "But I didn't see all of the mountain, just a small part, and I'm not sure where I looked. I can't remember."

My stomach rumbled loudly, almost as if on cue with her statement.

"Well," I said, seeing no way out, "I guess we'd better start walking."

Then I turned my back on both of them and threw up.