The Elders

by Inbali Iserles

  I moved away quickly toward the distant trees.

  Between bowing grass stems, I spotted a small yellow bulb. I’d seen one before, but I couldn’t remember where. As I drew closer I noticed others: an invasion of stooped yellow mushrooms with purple speckles, shunting their way through the soggy earth. I padded toward one, nostrils pulsing.

  “Keep away from them!” spat Haiki. I shrank back in surprise—I hadn’t heard him use that tone before.

  “Why?”

  Haiki had frozen in his tracks. “You mustn’t eat them. They’ll make you sick.” He raised his muzzle, blinking toward the trees, where the last streak of sunlight sank from view. The mushrooms were pale and fleshy against the dark floor of the valley. “I don’t think we should be here.”

  I saw the look in his eyes, caught a whiff of his scent. Fear was rising from his coat.

  “Once we get to the trees—”

  “We should leave now, find another way.” Haiki’s fur rose along his back. His tail crept to his flank.

  My whiskers quivered. He was scaring me. “What’s wrong?”

  Haiki started shrinking backward, low to the ground. “Don’t you hear it?”

  “Hear what?” I strained my ears. The air was quiet except for the breeze that shrilled through the rocks at the base of the hill.

  “Exactly,” he hissed. “The silence.”

  I tipped my head. Haiki was right—this was the Wildlands. Where was the buzz of insects? Where was the twitter of birds?

  My eyes scanned the valley, searching for a sprig of greenery, a spark of life. Even the distant trees looked hunched and sickly. There was no sign of buds in their branches.

  As my eyes trailed over their trunks, a figure appeared from the gloom. One more stepped out alongside him, then another.

  They prowled in formation. Their pointed ears craned forward, their bushy tails straight behind them. It took me a moment to realize they were foxes. There was something stiff about their postures, something mindless in the way they stalked, lowering their heads and arching their backs.

  Haiki must have sensed it too. “Who are they?” he whispered. There was a tremble in his voice.

  I struggled to make out the marks on their forelegs or the smell that clung to their coats like ash. From this distance I couldn’t see their eyes. But a dark instinct told me they’d be red-rimmed and blank.

  “The Taken,” I gasped as they started toward us across the rotting valley.

  A groan rose from the twisted trees. I stumbled, my tail snagging on thorns. Shapes grew distorted in the half-light. Vines shuddered on the wind, like rats’ tails slinking around my legs. The mushrooms swiveled their bulbous heads in my direction. Were the trees creeping closer, extending their jagged branches, curling and arching them like claws?

  The stench of decay grew stronger. An old fox stood among the trees, watching the Taken march over the valley. Even from a distance, I could see the acid blue of his eyes.

  My tail fell limp.

  The groan of the valley deepened. Specks of yellow dust seeped between the twisted trunks, drifting toward me on the wind. Breath rattled at my ears and my mind grew blurry. It was almost as though the old fox was inside me, clawing at my thoughts.

  “Isla! Are you all right?” Haiki’s voice was urgent.

  I blinked hard. When I looked again, the old fox had vanished. The groan dulled enough for me to hear the approach of the Taken as dry leaves crunched under their paws.

  “Where did he go?” I gasped.

  “Who?” Haiki frowned. “What’s wrong with you?” He pawed me, nipping my flank.

  I shook my head and blinked again. They were creeping closer, a dozen foxes or more, their sloping steps unhurried. I tried to lift my foreleg. It felt heavy, as if tugged to the earth by vines.

  “This way,” Haiki insisted, leading me toward the edge of the mountain. Obediently I followed, trying to shake away the wooziness that had seized my thoughts. “Look at me,” said Haiki. “Follow my brush.” I fixed my attention on the gray-furred fox as he picked up speed.

  I was faintly aware of the Taken foxes. Aware that they too were moving faster, hurrying to meet us in the gray pall of dusk. My eyes shot to the sky. Dark clouds had sprung from nowhere to conceal Canista’s Lights.

  I struggled after Haiki. His fur blended with the grimy light. Only the white tip of his tail stood out, twitching like a separate beast. I glanced toward the stalking skulk. A ginger fox was drawing near. As his red-rimmed eyes met mine, I caught the shiver of Pirie’s voice.

  Turn back. Don’t look. It isn’t safe.

  The fox’s eyes seemed to glow, and I felt my paws slowing on the ground.

  “Isla, keep moving!” Haiki was staring at me in astonishment. “It’s a trick! A wicked foxcraft.”

  I broke from the power of the fox’s stare. I saw the flash of Haiki’s tail and ran at it with all my might. He started forward again and I sprang after him, my heartbeat pounding in my ears, drowning out the groan from the trees.

  Haiki rounded the bend at the base of the mountain and I followed. Up ahead there were sprigs of grass and shoots that bore new life. The rotting earth lost its grip on me, its rumbling groan fading from my thoughts. Dusk had fallen to night, and with it the creeping haze of the valley. Canista’s Lights broke through the clouds and I felt myself grow stronger. In an instant I smelled grass and fern, saw flowers bursting from the soil. A wave of elation rushed through me.

  I focused on Haiki’s bobbing white tail-tip and thought of the Lights overhead. I felt soft grass beneath my paws and heard the song of a night bird. The rotting valley fell behind us, along with its acrid odors and haunting sounds. We’d outrun the Taken. We were almost free.

  Haiki slammed to a halt. He whipped around to face me, his eyes full of dread. “They’ve cut us off,” he panted.

  I blinked through the darkness. Two foxes bounded toward us, blocking the path ahead. Beyond them I caught the swell of a green meadow. A thicket of dense shrubs swayed on the breeze, easily deep enough for us to hide inside—and tantalizingly out of reach. The foxes slowed as they approached, their red-rimmed eyes catching the light of the moon. The first was a long-eared, bony vixen, the second a male with short fur. Dark red grooves were etched on their forepaws.

  The mark of the broken rose.

  There was a shuffle of steps close behind us—the rest of the skulk as they circled the hill.

  Haiki stumbled into me. “Oh no,” he whined. “We’re surrounded!”

  The two foxes ahead of us came to a halt. The wiry male looked in worse shape than the vixen. Sallow froth bubbled at his jaws and gunk clumped on his eyelashes. His whiskers were strangely still, his red-rimmed eyes unblinking.

  I thought of Tarr in the snatcher’s den. Were other eyes peering through this fox’s gaze, telling him what to do?

  Haiki backed into my flank, his haunches quivering.

  I heard an anxious whine behind me. The foxes were turning, hackles raised, peering toward the dark valley. Something was distracting them. I trained my ears. At first there was only the song of the lonely bird. Then a burst of yelps caught the air. The yelps broke into a shrill howl. My ears flicked back. It wasn’t the cry of a fox. It wasn’t like anything I’d heard before.

  Toward the rear of the skulk, someone barked. “The Master wants the trespasser, dead or alive!”

  The others gekkered, a luminous tinge in their eyes. Their high-pitched clicks sent the bird flapping away in fright.

  “Catch the beast that is not what he seems!” screeched a fox in the middle of the huddle. They began to retreat from me and Haiki, running in the direction of the yelps. Their paws slipped as they rounded the hill and dissolved into shadow.

  I turned to Haiki, trembling with relief. “They’ve gone! The Taken have gone!”

  His gaze was fixed on the disappearing skulk, his muzzle pulsing. He didn’t seem relieved. He looked wary.

  “You are mistaken.” The bony vix
en had spoken. She stood a few paces ahead of us. Her paws were planted on the ground, her hackles raised. The male fox leveled up beside her, baring foam-caked jaws.

  They hadn’t left with the others.

  They took a step toward us and Haiki arched his back, trying his best to look threatening. It did nothing to deter them.

  Even two of them could overpower us. I was still a cub and Haiki gave no sign of being a fighter. If only I could perform wa’akkir, the shape-shifting foxcraft. If only Siffrin had taught me that.

  I felt a flare of rage at the red-furred fox and used it to focus my mind. Ears forward, I drew in my breath. I spat it out in a series of angry caws. The sound of crows filled the air, whirring around the two red-eyed foxes. They froze in their tracks with uncertain glances. Haiki whined in surprise, his ears flattened. He started to spin in a tight circle, panicked by my karakking. I wanted to tell him it was only me but I didn’t know how without betraying the secret.

  I fixed on the Taken. With another breath I showered dog barks upon them, drawing great woofs and snarls from my throat. Haiki started to back toward the rotting valley. Quickly I thrust myself forward, away from Haiki, into the path of the red-eyed foxes. Controlling my breath, yet spitting out barks, I started to slimmer.

  All color drained from my body and the contours of my limbs grew vague. I crept around the bewildered foxes, who could no longer see me and whimpered in fear. I let the sounds swirl around them, capturing them in a net of confusion.

  Slimmering and karakking at the same time was harder than I’d anticipated. I hadn’t eaten, and the escape from the gorge had drained my maa. I could feel the power of my slimmer failing. In a few beats my body would regain its shape and color. Even now, the black fur of my forepaw flickered back into view.

  Despite their fearful faces, the foxes weren’t backing away. They whimpered but held their ground.

  With a last great effort I spat out the howl of a savage dog preparing for battle. It was too much for the male fox, who fled from the sound. He bolted past Haiki, in the direction of the valley. The vixen dared not stay alone amid the clamor. With a shriek she dashed after him, back toward the mushrooms.

  I released the slimmer, gasping for breath. My head drooped and I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling giddy.

  “It was you!” gasped Haiki, his voice drifting down to me. “Those foxes came, so many of them, and you scared them away! You know foxcraft! I mean, you really know it. A cub from the Graylands, who’d have thought … ?”

  I’d only scared two of the Taken. The rest had run on hearing those eerie cries. But I let Haiki burble on, too feeble to correct him, as I dragged myself toward a patch of hazel at the edge of the meadow.

  “You really are different, aren’t you, Isla?” he asked, wide-eyed and playful. He didn’t wait for a reply. “My brothers and sister are clever. They’re good at hunting, but they’re older, of course, and none of them could do what you did!” He bounced at my side.

  Secretly, I was touched by his praise. Foxcraft was hard. Slimmering and karakking at the same time had taken all my concentration. Siffrin had done nothing but insult me. Haiki was altogether easier to travel with, even if he did talk too much.

  I nosed among the hazel, drinking in its soft, fresh scent. I could sense the life in its thick stalks and small buds, so different from the rotting brown expanse of the valley. Slipping into the bushes, I padded a circle and lowered myself onto the ground. My body was weary but my mind felt gentle relief.

  Haiki curled up alongside me and I didn’t protest. It felt good to be close to a fox again.

  “We’ll find them,” he murmured.

  I blinked at him.

  He gave me a nudge. “My skulk, your brother. We’ll help each other … We’ll find them somehow.”

  A quiver of hope trembled at my whiskers.

  Canista’s Lights had melted behind banks of cloud. I breathed deeply and closed my eyes. The darkness of the night was like the velvet of my thoughts.

  * * *

  I woke to see brown eyes fixed on me, intense beneath the light of the moon. Haiki brightened when he saw me watching him. “You’re awake! You were sleeping so heavily, I was worried. Is it because of the foxcraft? Are you all right?” His fluffy tail thumped the soil beneath the hazel bush.

  My head felt heavy. “It takes a lot of maa,” I murmured. I could have easily slept all night.

  “I’m so hungry, aren’t you?” Haiki yawned noisily. “All that running, and those horrible foxes …” He shuddered. “But I’ve been keeping a lookout and they didn’t come back.” His gaze dropped to his belly and his soft gray ears pointed sideways. “I haven’t eaten all day.”

  My own belly groaned. Now that I was awake, I was famished. It was still dark beyond the branches of the hazel bush. “I guess we have to hunt.”

  “Yes, hunting …” Haiki shook his head sadly. “I’m not good at that, though I muddle by.”

  I sighed, flexing my forepaws. Why didn’t that surprise me?

  He leaped to his paws like a cheerful cub. “Shall we try to find rabbits?”

  “In the middle of the night?”

  “True, that’s pretty impossible.”

  My tail twitched impatiently. Hunger wasn’t improving my mood. I’d never even seen a rabbit up close. They were fiendishly fast.

  “We’ll find something,” I muttered halfheartedly, wondering why I was still with the gray-furred fox. I had promised myself I would travel alone. I stretched and rolled onto my paws. My forelegs quivered and my limbs felt heavy. Was I strong enough to hunt?

  Haiki was watching me with concern. “You don’t look too good. What happened to you in that valley? I had a bad feeling, then those foxes appeared from nowhere.” His tail stopped wagging and sprang to his flank. “And you seemed …”

  “I’ll be fine.” I brushed away his words with a flick of my tail. But the truth was something had happened to me. I’d heard sounds, seen things, was ensnared in a trance. Who was the fox with the acid eyes who’d watched from the trees? I recalled the rattling in my ears, as though his breath was raking my mind.

  Gerra-sharm was a rare foxcraft, one of the forgotten arts—Siffrin had taught me that much at least. My bond with Pirie allowed me to reach him with my thoughts. Through gerra-sharm we were one, our minds melded together. The sensation in the woods had felt similar … but awful. Like my own gerra was being sapped. I couldn’t think straight, could hardly raise my paws.

  I shook my head fiercely, freeing myself of the memory, and pressed between some hazel stalks.

  Haiki started after me and we trod through the long grass together. As we climbed over exposed roots, I thought I heard the scratch of tiny claws on earth. I trained my ears, my whiskers edging forward. It was probably a mouse.

  “Rabbits are delicious,” Haiki began. “I could eat a whole one right now, I really could! My sister caught this great big rabbit. We couldn’t believe it, so succulent.”

  There was a frantic scrabble of little paws—the creature had heard us. I shot an angry look at Haiki.

  “I’m sorry, was I talking too much?” His brush drooped behind him.

  We carried on in silence, crossing the meadow and winding between trees. In time we approached a curving hill, then a valley of shrubs and thorns. A narrow stream ran through the valley.

  I wavered uncertainly. A faint scent of foxes hung in the air.

  Haiki kept going. “Oh, look, at least we can have a drink.”

  I licked my lips and followed. We stopped to lap the water. It eased my parched throat but my legs ached worse than ever, and my head was beginning to thump.

  Haiki watched me. “You’re too tired to hunt.”

  It was true, but what choice did I have? I didn’t trust him to find food for us. For a moment I wished Siffrin was here. The red-furred fox was good at hunting, an expert in stalking without being seen. My ears rolled back. I reminded myself he was also a liar who bore the mark of the broken rose
.

  Haiki trod toward me and gave me a gentle nudge with his muzzle. “You need to rest.” His eyes lit up. “Wait a moment!” He started treading over the grass, his snout close to the ground. He took a couple of deep sniffs and walked on a few paces, sniffed again, and rounded back. I watched, head cocked, as he stopped above a patch of soil where no grass grew. It looked freshly disturbed.

  I peered into the surrounding grassland. The stream hissed over the meadow and bats circled in the darkness. Had I heard something else? My ears twisted. Again I sensed foxes. Had we strayed into someone’s patch?

  Haiki started digging with an eager jerk of his tail. Soil sprayed behind him. Ears pinned back; forepaws a blur of gray fur.

  He buried his muzzle in the dirt and yanked it out with a triumphant yip. “You won’t believe what I’ve found!”

  A rich, sweet smell was rising from the soil. Saliva filled my mouth and my belly rumbled as Haiki’s head disappeared once more. His back legs tensed, his rump quivered, and he backed up with a shake. Tail lashing, he dropped a mound before me.

  I could hardly believe my eyes. Beneath the crumbling soil I saw a long, floppy ear, a furry body, and a creamy tail.

  A rabbit!

  Its head hung heavily, its neck already broken.

  “You first. You’re starving.” Haiki dropped the rabbit in front of me. “Plenty for both of us.”

  I quivered with anticipation, too ravenous to question this gift from the earth. I grasped the pelt in my teeth and sheared off a chunk of meat. It was still warm. Haiki sank his jaws into a hind leg. We growled and tore, ripping off great strips of rabbit and swallowing them whole. It didn’t take long to gobble most of it down, leaving a small mound of gristle and bone.