A Companion to Wolves is the story of a young nobleman, Isolfr, who is chosen to become a wolfcarl -- a warrior who is bonded to a fighting wolf. Isolfr is deeply drawn to the wolves, and though as his father's heir he can refuse the call, he chooses to go. 

The people of this wintry land depend on the wolfcarls to protect them from the threat of trolls and wyverns, though the supernatural creatures have not come in force for many years. Men are growing too confident. The wolfhealls are small, and the lords give them less respect than in former years.  But the winter of Isolfr’s bonding, the trolls come down from the north in far greater numbers than before, and the holding’s complaisance gives way to terror in the dark. 

 Isolfr, now bonded to a queen wolf, Viradechtis, must learn where his honor lies, and discover the lengths to which he will to go when it, and love for his wolf, drive him.

Praise

“Ancient grudges and ruthless schemes are simply business as usual to the Faerie court in Bear's complex and involving contemporary fantasy. Campbell-winner Bear (Worldwired) overturns the usual vision of Faerie, revealing the compelling beauty and darkness only glimpsed in old ballads and stories like 'Tam Lin'."--Publishers Weekly on Blood and Iron by Elizabeth Bear

 

"Set in the wondrous city of Melusine, Monette's extraordinary first fantasy novel focuses on two captivating characters from two very different worlds. Monette is a highly original writer with her own unique voice.”--Publishers Weekly starred review of Melusine by Sarah Monette

About the Author(s)

By Elizabeth Bear and Sarah Monette

Sarah Monette is the author of  Melusine and The Virtu.  She was nominated for the Campbell Award for Best New Writer in 2006.

 

Elizabeth Bear is the author of the Hammered trilogy, and Blood and Iron   She won the Campbell Award in 2005.

Excerpt

Chapter 1

Njall could not stop looking at the wolf. 
She lay on the flags before the fire in his father’s hall at Nithogsfjoll and panted, despite the chill. Njall was sixteen, almost a man, even if he was hoping for just one more spurt of growth, but her head was as broad as the span of his palm between her eyes. His arms couldn’t have circled her barrel, and if she rose on her long racer’s legs, she would—almost—be able to look him in the eye, were her attention not reserved entirely for her master.

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