The Sight by David Clement-Davies

enough.’
    ‘Mamma,’ whispered Larka suddenly, shivering next to Fell, ‘tell her to go away, Mamma.’
    ‘Hush, Larka.’
    Larka’s sudden terror had a quite startling effect on Morgra as she saw the cubs standing side by side in the moonlight.
    ‘Let me touch them,’ she snarled.  ‘Let me smell them.  I come to protect the cubs.  To help them.  To help them grow.  Come here, children.  Come to a mother worthy of the name.’ Palla could bear it no longer.  She sprang forward, her paws splashing though the mud.
    ‘Get out of here, Morgra,’ she cried bitterly.  ‘Haven’t you done enough harm? You can never be a member of our pack.  Fooling with legends! Spreading rumours and superstition.  Go back to the Balkar and your superstitions and your lies.  Go back and leave my family in peace, or I shall kill you myself.’
    Morgra drew back a little but there was no fear in her eyes, only the steely glint of hate.  But those eyes began to flicker.
    ‘Your family?’ she hissed, and Huttser fancied he heard a note of genuine fear in Morgra’s voice.  ‘And only a family.  ..’
    Suddenly, there was a crash in the heavens and a bolt of living electricity forked past the wolves.  It struck a tree above Morgra and the darkness blazed with fire.  The whole pack shrunk back and Larka and Fell looked up in astonishment at the burning branches.
    ‘So be it,’ cried Morgra smiling delightedly, the shadows from the burning tree dancing around her scarred muzzle.
    ‘You have chosen your own destiny, Palla.  And since you cannot forget the past, then let it return to haunt you – as Wolfbane always returns, the friend of the dead.  For you shall truly learn of the past, Palla, when the Searchers are summoned.’
    The cubs’ ears pricked up immediately.
    ‘For they are waiting, Palla, in the cave of the dark, now and always.  They are with us here.  They wait in dreams and in nightmares, watching and judging.  They prowl angrily through the shadows, at the gates of death, waiting to pounce on the living.’
    The pack thought Morgra had lost her wits but they were too terrified to do anything but stand gawking at her in the pouring rain.  The flames on the tree were dying again, fizzling into silence.
    ‘You talk of bones whitening to feed the crows.  Then let them be your bones, scavenged by the creatures of the air.  When Wolfbane comes.  When the final power is unleashed.’ Suddenly there was a flapping of black wings above Morgra’s head.
    ‘And let this be my real birthing gift to you, Palla.  For I curse your family and your pack.’
    ‘Huttser,’ whispered Brassa, trembling all over, ‘for Tor’s sake stop her.’
    ‘By Wolfbane I curse you.  By the power of the Sight, the power that has cursed me all my life.  Your little ones shall grow and as they do you shall all suffer.  One by one your pack will be broken, until you are ready to give me the cubs.  And if you do not, they too shall reap your fate.’
    ‘Stop her!’ cried Brassa again.
    Before they could do anything, Morgra threw her head up and let out a howl that seemed to rock the ravine.  Then, in a voice full of malevolence, she hissed.
    ‘May the past that’s dark with crimes, bring revenge in future times!’
    The words sent a strange shudder through the old nurse.
    ‘The Sight,’ Brassa snarled as though she had been bitten, turning her face to the clouded moon and the drenching heavens.
    ‘Morgra,’ whispered Palla.  ‘Please, Morgra.’
    Huttser and Palla started to move forward.  The pack came too and, as she spoke, Morgra began to back away.  She was set at a slight angle to the path and now her hind legs were getting closer and closer to the drop.
    Her eyes took on a glassy, faraway look, as though she were no longer addressing the pack, but talking to the whole world.  The others were horrified as they watched Morgra.  She paused for a moment and then, as she looked at the wolves coming