Seed of Evil by David Thompson

go make yourself useful and sell something to those Crows.”
    “Whatever you say.”
    “I like the sound of that,” Geist said, and chuckled.
    Toad went down the third aisle to the Crows.
    They turned and smiled and one said something in their tongue.
    “I’m sorry, I don’t speak your language,” Toad said. “Do any of you speak English?” When all they did was stare blankly, he lowered his voice and said, “Chases Rabbits? Do you understand that at least? I have something for you to give him.” He started to reach into his pocket but stopped when it was obvious they didn’t comprehend. He let out a sigh. His luck of late was all bad.
    There had to be a way to turn the tables on Geist,Toad told himself. There had to be someone who could do what he wasn’t capable of.
    Zach King snapped his Hawken to his shoulder. Wolves this close to the cabin were a danger to the livestock. He had seen wolf tracks around his cabin off and on for some months now, but could never catch the wolf. At first he’d been concerned that it was after the chickens, but it never tried to get into the coop or attack the rooster and hens when they were roaming about during the day.
    Zach took aim, then noticed that the wolf was just standing there, staring. It showed no fear or alarm. He noticed, too, that it was uncommonly old; it was mostly hide and bones, its muzzle almost entirely light gray while the rest was darker. It had a white mark that reminded him of the wolf cub he’d raised when he was young. Curious, he said out loud, “Blaze?”
    The wolf pricked its ears and whined. It took a few steps in his direction, limping.
    Zach lowered the Hawken a little. “It can’t be,” he said. Years ago his wolf had gone off to answer the call of the wild. He’d always reckoned that it was long since dead. “Blaze?”
    The wolf whined again and came haltingly forward, its limp more pronounced.
    The dun snorted and pranced. Zach spoke to it and patted its neck, then climbed down, keeping a firm grip on the reins. He held the Hawken ready to shoot as the wolf came to within a few yards and stared at him as he was staring at it. “Blaze? Is that you, boy?” He couldn’t be sure. “After all these years?”
    Zach held out a hand as he used to do, his fingers extended.
    The wolf slowly came up and sniffed. It whined and licked his fingertips.
    Zach carefully touched the white mark. He was coiled to defend himself should the wolf attack, but all it did was lick him some more. “Well, what do you know?” He decided to put it to another test. Sinking onto his knee, he said, “Do you remember what you used to do?”
    The wolf’s jaw was so close that with a lightning snap it could rend Zach’s throat. Instead, it dipped its muzzle and pressed its forehead to his chest as Blaze used to do when he wanted to be petted. Zach rubbed its head and its neck and ran a hand over its side; he could feel every rib.
    “Blaze, is it really you?”
    The wolf raised its head and licked him.
    Zach scratched and petted its chin. “Has to be you. No wild wolf would let me do this.” It licked him again and he beamed. “I can’t wait for my wife to see you.”

Chapter Twelve
    The four young women wore their best dresses, their lustrous hair freshly washed and braided.
    As they wound down the last stretch of trail to the mercantile, Chases Rabbits glanced back, his gaze lingering on Raven On The Ground. To his mind, she was the most beautiful, but he had to admit they were all lovely. He hoped the whites would be pleased.
    Chases Rabbits was resplendent himself. He wore his new white buckskins and the new moccasins his mother had made. His rifle gleamed in the sun. He imagined that he was as handsome as a man could be.
    The trail widened and Raven On The Ground brought her mare up next to him. Her eyes were lively and excited, her full lips spread in a smile. “I am proud of you.”
    Chases Rabbits’s cheeks burned. “What have I done?” he