Wolf-Speaker

by Tamora Pierce

  “You mean she hasn’t noticed I’m gone,” Maura said bitterly. “Has anyone?”

  “That is unjust,” the Stormwing replied, firmly and gently. “You know very well that the cook and your nurse are frantic that you’ve vanished.”

  “I left them notes. I told them not to worry.”

  There was something odd between these two, Daine realized. The immortal spoke to Maura with affection. That was impossible. Stormwings were cruel, heartless: she had enough experience of them to know that. Worse, Maura addressed Rikash as she might an older brother or an uncle.

  Watching the immortals, Daine saw that she needed help. Starlings gathered with the coming of fall, to gossip and to migrate. Nearby she found three such flocks, each with over fifty birds, and called them to the trees and rocks around her before she looked again at Maura and Rikash. “Do you know what his sort do?” she asked the younger girl. “They befoul the dead who fall in battle. They live on human fear and anger. They’re monsters!”

  Maura shrugged thin shoulders. “They can’t help how they’re made, Daine.”

  “Maura”—Rikash shook his head—“you can’t just run away from home. And you shouldn’t encourage her,” he told Daine. “You’re old enough to know better.”

  “I already know better,” retorted Maura.

  Daine glared at the Stormwing. “I haven’t been encouraging her. I tried to make her go back. You’re the one with the wings—you take her.”

  Maura sat on the ground, chin sticking out. “I won’t go back, and you can’t make me. They’re traitors. I won’t stay under the same roof with them. My father would haunt me all my life if I did.”

  “Let us talk of this away from prying ears,” Rikash said, an eye on Daine.

  “We can speak of it now. Daine can’t tell anyone. She’s stuck here, too!”

  “Quiet!” ordered the Stormwing. “You’re a child. You do not understand what is taking place, and you must not speak of matters you cannot comprehend.”

  Her sense of humor overpowering her hatred of Stormwings, Daine looked down so Rikash wouldn’t see her smile. Obviously he liked Maura, or he would have bullied rather than debated her. She also could see debate was useless. Maura had the bit between her teeth and would not obey orders. “Go on,” she urged the fuming immortal. “Shut her up. I never thought to see you stinkers balked by anyone, let alone a ten-year-old.”

  Rikash turned red under his dirt, and a few of his own flock cackled. “It is hard for us to bear young,” he said, a hint of gritted teeth in his voice. “That being the case, we value others’ young, particularly when they are neglected. Affection has led me to indulge Lady Maura more than is wise.”

  Maura sighed. “All right, Lord Rikash. I’ll hush. Only, I’m not coming back with you. You don’t have to tell them you saw me.”

  Rikash shook his head. “If you were mine, I would beat you,” he said with grim resignation. He looked up at Daine, eyes sharp. “As for you—”

  Daine grinned, and made a silent request of the starlings. They set up a clamor, flapping their wings and voicing painfully shrill, loud whistles. “Go on,” she told Rikash, raising her voice to be heard. “Take me in. You might last two or three minutes in the air with my friends going for your eyes.”

  The Stormwings looked at the birds with alarm. Starlings, cowards and clowns alone or in small groups, were bullies in a flock. Their whistles alone made the immortals try unsuccessfully to cover their ears.

  “The gods help you if I catch you in the open,” Rikash snarled, flapping his wings. “Maura, you had better rethink your choice of friends!” The Stormwings took to the air as the starlings jeered and insulted them. Wheeling, the immortals flew straight at the barrier and passed through.

  “But what about your friend?” Maura cried, grabbing Daine’s arm. “It was him making the noise, wasn’t it? They might hurt him!”

  “I don’t think so,” said Daine, watching the barrier. There was a sound like a thunderclap. The Stormwings returned, covered with soot from claws to crown and reeking of onions. “They hate onions,” Daine told Maura as they flew by, tears running down their faces as they sneezed frantically. “We found out last fall, when we helped mop up after pirates raided Port Legann.”

  “Goddess bless,” the younger girl breathed, watching the retreat until the Stormwings were no longer in view.

  Dismounting from Cloud, Daine let the pony go ahead of them on the trail to the caverns. “I can’t believe you like them,” she muttered.

  Maura glared at her. “Well, I can’t believe you like wolves.”

  There was little Daine could say to that. She didn’t try, knowing Maura would disagree with whatever arguments she made.

  When they entered the caves, Kitten greeted her with joyful chirps and whistles. Smiling, Daine held and petted her for a little while. “Sorry, Kit,” she said at last, and put her friend down. “I have plenty to do.” Locating her writing tools, she stowed them in a pack.

  “You’re going back there?” Maura asked.

  “I must. There’s things Numair has to know.”

  The younger girl took a deep breath. “Then you’d better tell him Belden and Yolane are going to rebel against the king, and soon.”

  Daine, stunned, let her pack slip to the floor. “A rebellion?”

  Maura nodded, red with shame. Kitten, chirping in concern, rubbed her head against the girl’s knee. “I didn’t know anything for sure until the day after you left,” Maura explained. “It was after lunch sometime, because my nurse wanted to put me on the backboard, and I didn’t want her to catch me.”

  “A backboard?” asked Daine.

  “It’s so old-fashioned. Nobody uses it anymore. You’re strapped with your shoulders against it for hours—it’s supposed to teach girls to sit up straight. Nurse says I’m round-shouldered, and she puts me on it whenever she can.”

  Daine shuddered. “It sounds horrible. I’ve never heard Kally—Princess Kalasin—mention such a thing.”

  “Good. If we get out of all this, please tell my nurse the princess doesn’t have one. Anyway, I left through the secret passage in the family wing. I was behind Yolane’s study when I heard Belden yell, ‘What do you mean, he’s gone?’ I heard Tristan and Yolane say be quiet, and I stopped. There’s spy holes in all the rooms, so I could see and hear everything. It was them and the others, Alamid and Gissa and Redfern and Gardiner. Tristan lied, you know. They weren’t going to the City of the Gods. He wrote and invited them.”

  Daine’s stomach growled. She dug out cheese and a sausage, cutting off portions for herself and for Maura. “So what did you hear?”

  “Tristan told Belden it’s all under control. And Belden said Tristan told him Master Numair would pass out from the nightbloom in his wine and when that didn’t work, Tristan said there was no way Master Numair could leave the valley. Yolane said they’re in trouble if Numair warns the king, and Tristan said he only knows Tristan and Alamid and Gissa are here. He said they’ll warn the other con—conspirators, and speed up the rebellion. They’ll strike with the next full moon, not at Midwinter like they planned.”

  Daine dug her brushes, paper, and ink out of the pack. “Wait—let me write this down.” Shaking the bottle of ready-made ink, she unstoppered it and wet her brush. Swiftly, using Rider code symbols to speed up note taking, she wrote the main points of what Maura had said thus far. “Go on.”

  Maura drank some water. “Belden said he didn’t like how this is going, and Tristan told the mages to show Belden how they’d ward the valley, and they left. After that Yolane said she hoped this would work. Tristan said as long as she keeps up her end, she’ll be queen by the first snows. And Yolane said how can she keep her bargain when the next shipment is sealed in with us? Tristan said they’ll handle that when the shipment’s ready. Then he started kissing her and saying what a fine queen she’d make, and I left. I snuck out of the castle that night—I hoped I could get out of Dunlath before they closed it of
f.”

  “Can you remember anything else?”

  Maura shook her head. “I told you everything. I kept going over it in my head so I could tell the king without leaving anything important out.”

  “What’s this shipment they talked about?”

  “Whatever they mine up in the north part of the valley. They’ve been sending that out of Dunlath all summer.”

  Daine put her things away and tucked her notes into the waistband of her breeches. “Numair has to know all this. He can warn the king.”

  “He can speak over distances with his Gift?” The younger girl sighed. “I wish I could do that. It would make things a lot easier.”

  “Is there anyone in the valley who can?”

  Maura shook her head. “Just Tristan and his friends. Some villagers have the Gift, but it’s like mine. Just good for a couple of things, and nobody can far-speak. Anyone who has a strong Gift leaves to get better training.”

  Daine sighed. “That’s typical. One last thing—didn’t you sort of promise Rikash you wouldn’t tell me any of this?”

  “I know he probably thinks I did, but I didn’t. Maybe Yolane forgot her duty to the Crown, but I haven’t.” She rubbed her sleeve over her eyes.

  Touched, Daine gave her friend a quick hug. “All right. I have to take this to Numair. Look after Kitten while I’m gone, won’t you?”

  Cloud also stayed behind as Daine returned to the barrier. On a slope nearby, the girl found a tumble of rock, one huge slab of which formed a lean-to against its fellows. She hid there, out of the open, and began to write, using the notes she had taken from Maura. To that she added the news that the barrier enclosed the entire valley. She was finishing when she heard the high, singing note that was Tkaa’s presence in her mind. Peering out of her shelter, she saw the basilisk step through the barrier, and waved him up to her hiding place.

  —He says he cannot break this spell,—the immortal told her.—He says he must summon more help.—

  Daine rewet her brush and added a further note to her letter: “Can’t you use one of those words of power on it?”

  —He is unusual—Tkaa remarked as Daine waited for her ink to dry.—When I crossed the barrier, he thought I meant to attack. He threw fire at me. I sang the rock spell without blinking—I am not at my best when I am rushed.—A note that might have been amusement entered his soft mental voice.—He became stone, of course. The spell never fails. It lasted for a breath, and then he shattered it, as if all I had done was pour clay on him and bake it. And then he asked me to do it again, to see if he could break the spell twice.—

  Daine rubbed her aching head. “He would,” she said dryly. “And did you?”

  —I suggested that the time to conduct experiments will be when all of us have the leisure to enact them properly. If you encounter dragons, you will find the same excuse works with them. More than anything, dragons and mages like to take time with their studies.—

  “Well, thank Mithros for that,” replied the girl. “Will you take this to him? It’s important.”

  —To become a messenger at my age,—Tkaa remarked, shaking his head.

  Daine smiled up at him. “Thank you. I am grateful for your help.”

  There was affection in his voice when he replied.—It is I who must thank you. In four hundred years in the Divine Realms, I have not enjoyed myself as much as I have in the last two days. Life is more vivid here, much headier.—The message in his hand, he returned to the glowing barrier and passed through.

  She waited for a moment and then decided she wanted to hear Numair’s comments as he read her note. Reaching, she found the marmot and asked again for permission to become part of her. The chubby creature, named Quickmunch, agreed. Daine had the knack of it so well by now that it took only an eye-blink to enter the marmot. It took a bit longer to convince Quickmunch to leave the safety of the burrow and her family, and to approach Numair and Tkaa so Daine could hear them.

  If he makes that noise again, I will bite him, Quickmunch said as she made her cautious way down the rock slope, with frequent checks overhead for eagles. Humans never stop to think of the People when they are up to their tricks.

  He doesn’t mean to be rude, Daine said as they stepped onto the road. From here, Spots and Mangle were as big as houses. Quickmunch’s first reaction was to run. Daine persuaded her that the horses were peaceful, but Quickmunch still passed them in a wide arc. When she saw Tkaa with Numair, she barked in alarm.

  As the immortal bent to examine the rodent, Numair looked up from Daine’s note and saw what Tkaa was doing. “Daine, is that you? Can you understand me?”

  Nod, Daine told the marmot, and Quickmunch nodded stiffly. This means something to him? she asked.

  It means yes, the girl said. It means we understand human speech. Now let me hear what he has to say.

  Numair held up Daine’s letter. “Your news is serious, but not surprising. Dunlath is too well guarded simply to be a country backwater. When we’re done talking, I’ll get under cover and speak to the king again” He shook his head. “As to the barrier—did you notice the mixture of colors? It’s hard to break a joined spell like this, in which several mages take part.” His mouth tightened. “Also, there is an added dimension to this working. The mages Tristan has are disciplined; Alamid and Gissa are both Masters. I believe Redfern may be, as well. All the same, I should have produced a reflection of some kind, from the power I just threw at the barrier.” A blush rose in his dark cheeks. “I shouldn’t have done that, of course. I’m afraid I lost my temper.

  “The fact remains, the barrier absorbed my Gift and didn’t reflect it. That means it is fueled with more power than the combined Gifts of Tristan’s group can produce. They must be using gemstones that act as power sources to anchor it. If that’s the case, I may have to wait for mages to come from the City of the Gods and the Royal University to break it.”

  She pointed to the paper in his hand.

  “Remember what I told you of the words of power.” He rubbed his face. “For each one used properly, there is a reaction elsewhere of similar magnitude. The word that may break this spell will cause an earthquake somewhere else. I will not kill untold numbers of people to get through, not when other mages will soon come to aid me. I do have some good news. King Jonathan said that two Rider groups and a company of the King’s Own are nearby, on border patrol. They’re to be sent here. The Sixth Rider Group will arrive in two days, the Twelfth in four, and the men of the King’s Own in three days. The mages may take as long as a week to reach us, but that can’t be helped.”

  Daine shivered. She did not like the idea of days passing before Numair got help. True, he could defend himself, but there was no telling what unpleasant surprises were tucked into Tristan’s sleeve.

  “You said each word of power ’used properly,’” remarked Tkaa in Common. He had been listening intently. “What if a word of power is used improperly?”

  Numair grimaced. “The magic backfires. It’s one reason there are so few of my rank. The others who tried to reach it are dead.” He looked at Daine. “Are you comfortable, shifting into your friends’ minds? Is it difficult?”

  The marmot nodded yes to the first question and shook her head to the second. For a moment Numair sank deep into thought, pulling his long nose idly.

  “Daine, I have a tremendous favor to ask,” he said finally, coming out of his brown study. “We need more precise information. Is there a way, without putting yourself in danger, that you can enter the northern and southern forts and count the men posted there?”

  Daine nodded, through Quickmunch. It was the next logical step.

  “You can do it from within an animal’s mind, and your human self will be at a safe distance?”

  Again the marmot nodded.

  “And you’ll be able to return to your own body without mishap?”

  Another nod.

  “The sooner you can do it, the better. And be careful, or I will not put you in the deepest, dar
kest dungeon I find, understand? I will take you to the glaciers in northern Scanra and drop you in the deepest crevasse known to man.”

  Quickmunch turned her back to Numair and flipped her tail up, then faced him again. I like this way of talking, the marmot confided to Daine.

  The mage was grinning. “How are you fixed for supplies?” He glanced at the horses’ packs. “I can share what I have, particularly since you are feeding Maura as well as yourself.”

  Quickmunch shook her head and began to climb to her burrow. He’s being silly, Daine told her. I’m a lot better able to supply myself than he is.

  I know where there are good roots, if you’d like to dig them up, the marmot offered. They’re really very nourishing.

  That’s sweet, Daine replied. But I can find enough food. You eat them. After all, you can’t take chances when the Big Cold is on the way.

  Now you sound like one of the People, Quickmunch said. Good-bye, and if you want to do this again, please let me know. It was interesting.

  Smiling, Daine returned to herself. The opening of the stones that hid her was blocked by a large, dark shape. She nearly panicked before she saw it was Maura and Kitten, peering at her with the strangest expression on their faces.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked, and frowned. Long hairs stuck out on both sides of her nose, and her front teeth felt odd. “And what are you doing here?”

  “Why did you do that to your face?” asked the ten-year-old. “You look like a mummer at Midwinter Festival.”

  “Do what?” No, she was not mistaken. Something was very wrong with her front teeth. “What do you mean, a mummer?”

  “You know—they play the parts of the animals, asking Mithros to bring back the sun, so they glue whiskers and furry noses to their faces.”

  Daine explored with her hands. Her nose had gone flat and—there was no way to get around it—furred, and she had long whiskers curving from either side of her mouth. Her top and bottom incisors were long and extremely sharp, sharp enough to cut her skin. “You can see all this?” It was hard to talk around rodent teeth. Kitten trotted over and touched the new parts with gentle claws.