The Elders

by Inbali Iserles

  I could smell other foxes nearby and hear the murmur of their voices. I was in the same den I’d stayed in the previous night. For a moment I couldn’t remember how I’d returned there.

  Then it came back: the exhaustion that ran through my limbs. The huddle of questions, bright eyes boring into me—the Wildlands foxes enthralled by maa-sharm—amazed by the dying coyote who’d transformed into a healthy fox.

  Scarcely awake, I’d loped between Karo and Haiki as the other foxes looked on curiously. Siffrin tried to talk to me but his words had seeped away like mist. How long had it taken me to cross the forest and round back to the valley?

  How long had I been sleeping in this burrow?

  I hadn’t imagined that sharing my maa would make me so weak. Siffrin had offered me his maa when I was hurt in the Snarl. He’d been all right after, hadn’t he? Through the fog of my memories, I remembered his labored movements. I’d seen him wince with strain as he’d hobbled over the graystone. He had slept all day without twitching a muscle and I’d envied him his rest.

  I realized now he must have struggled to place one paw before another, that his heavy sleep betrayed exhaustion. Had he hidden his suffering from me?

  I remembered what I’d said to him back in the Snarl.

  It sounds dangerous, offering your life source like that.

  What had he replied?

  Only if you give too much …

  I padded to the edge of the burrow. I could hear the rumble of a deep voice. It was the old fox, Rupus. I pressed closer, ears pricked.

  “Karo and Flint told me what happened. You looked like a coyote in his death throes. Then the cub helped you and you turned into a fox.”

  “He was always a fox.” It was Karo’s voice. “He had shape-shifted.”

  “I said there was something strange about him, didn’t I say that, Ma?” I recognized Simmi, the dark-furred foxling.

  “You did,” Karo agreed. “I could sense it too. And so could the coyotes, though they feared insulting their leader.”

  Rupus’s husky voice cut in. “So that was just a disguise?”

  “Yes,” said Siffrin from the other side of the wall. My ears flipped back and a growl caught in my throat. I felt a strange mixture of anger and relief. Why had he come here? I hadn’t wanted him to die, but that didn’t mean I’d forgiven him. “I was nowhere near the pack when I shifted into the image of their leader. I thought it would be safer to travel in wa’akkir. It’s always worked in the past.”

  I pressed closer to the exit.

  Rupus was stern. “I see you are proud of your foxcraft, but you haven’t the sense to use it sparingly. You led a whole pack of coyotes to our den.”

  Siffrin’s voice was soft. “I was so careful. I shifted my shape far from their lands. I can’t understand how they caught up with me.”

  “Yet you suspect something,” pressed Karo. “I can tell. Out with it, young fox. If we are in danger, we deserve to know why.”

  Siffrin sighed. “These past nights, as I’ve traveled the Wildlands in the form of the coyote, I’ve been hounded by the Taken at every turn. They chased me at the edge of the rocky mountain. They stalked me across heathland. I have never heard of foxes chasing coyotes. You know the evil I speak of? Foxes in body, but not in spirit.”

  I could almost feel the fabric of the air shift on the other side of the burrow—almost taste the tension that clung to the earth.

  “We know who you mean all too well. Pleached foxes. They haunt the Ghost Valley.”

  “Yes, pleached.” Siffrin sounded surprised that the old fox knew the word. And maybe a little impressed. I heard him draw in a slow breath. “I saw the Taken chasing Isla and … her friend, at the edge of the valley. I called them away. I wanted to distract them long enough so that Isla could escape. The Taken seemed all too willing to chase me—their ferocity took me by surprise. Like they knew that I wasn’t a real coyote. As though they’d been waiting for me.”

  Crouching in the burrow, I remembered the howl that had drawn the Taken away from me and Haiki. That was Siffrin?

  Rupus spoke again. “And you believe there is some connection? That these ghoulish foxes and the coyotes were conspiring against you? Why would they do that?”

  Siffrin paused a long time. My ears twisted, taking in the sounds from the far side of the burrow. I could hear the shuffle of paws as a fox changed position. Otherwise all was still.

  Finally the red-furred fox spoke. “I’m a messenger of the Elders.”

  There was a drawing in of breath.

  “Do the Elders really know everything?” It was Tao.

  “Why is the Tailless Seer pleaching Wildlands foxes?” asked Simmi.

  “The Elders don’t care about us,” snarled Flint. “You heard what Rupus said. The Elders are indifferent to our suffering.”

  Siffrin’s voice rose passionately. “That isn’t true. The Elders are good. They care for the plight of all foxes.”

  “If they’re so capable, why don’t they stop the Seer?” asked Karo.

  Siffrin sighed. “The Mage has power of his own. He must be leaching it from somewhere. The Elders are strong, but they cannot defeat an army of Taken. His maa must be greater than any fox who’s ever lived. All except the Black Fox.”

  Quiet fell through the den.

  The next voice to speak sounded fearful and young. “Can’t the Black Fox stop the Seer?” I thought it was the smaller brother of Simmi and Tao. What had they called him? Mox.

  Siffrin spoke very quietly. “This is sensitive, you understand. Our enemies must not learn of it but … The Black Fox has gone, no one knows where.”

  “Would you care to explain what a messenger of these great and mysterious foxes is doing in our humble meadow?” Rupus didn’t conceal the contempt in his voice.

  “There is talk of a young fox from the Graylands—concern she may be caught by the Mage.”

  “Go on,” pressed Rupus.

  “The Elders feared for her. And it was my fault she was in danger, because I lost her in the Graylands. I offered to find her again.”

  I stepped out of the burrow, entering the main part of the den. Siffrin was near the exit, his red tail swishing.

  The skulk was all there, with Haiki sitting quietly by Flint. He ran to me when he saw me. “Isla, I was so worried.” As he licked my muzzle and settled beside me, relief fluttered along my tail. Between Siffrin and his Elders, and this unknown skulk, at least there was someone else like me—someone who didn’t belong.

  I gave Haiki a quick lick on the nose and turned to face Siffrin. My legs still wobbled but my voice was steady. “You’ve been searching for me?”

  Siffrin spoke softly. “I looked to Canista’s Lights. I was determined to find you.”

  My eyes darted to Haiki. He caught my gaze with an anxious frown. I turned back to Siffrin. The blood had been washed from his pelt and his scars were scarcely visible beneath his thick fur. Only a gash along his snout still glistened red.

  “You seem well.”

  “It’s because of you.” His ears pointed sideways. “A young fox with no training shouldn’t be any good at maa-sharm. But I knew I felt something that time on the roof—and today it was undeniable. Your maa is special … Still, you must be exhausted.”

  “I’m all right.” I ran my tongue over my muzzle, my back stiffening. “I’m not sure why you came. You know that I’m seeking my brother. I don’t have time for anything else.”

  Siffrin’s eyes sparkled, amber framed in black. “The Mage will hunt you down when he learns of your gifts. He may know already … These lands are full of his spies. I want to lead you to safety—to the only place in the Wildlands where even the Mage cannot touch you. Let me take you to the Elder Rock.”

  “I’m not coming with you to the Elders.” I stared back at Siffrin in challenge. “I told you: I’m going to find my brother.”

  Siffrin’s ears flicked back. “They know more foxcraft than anyone else. They may have ways o
f finding him.”

  “That’s what Haiki said.” I wasn’t convinced.

  The gray-furred fox cleared his throat. “I’ve heard it’s hard to find the Elder Rock when you’re not sure what you’re looking for. Wouldn’t it be easier to go with someone who knows the way?” He tilted his head toward Siffrin but didn’t meet his eye.

  “Hard?” sniffed Siffrin, some of his old superior tone creeping back. “More like impossible.”

  The fur rose at my hackles.

  Arrogant fox.

  “That’s assuming I want to go at all.” I sought out Rupus among the skulk. He was sitting in the shadows. “The Elders are selfish. They hoard foxcraft for themselves. Isn’t that right?”

  I expected the old fox to agree but instead he hunched quietly, lost in thought.

  “We are foxes of the meadow,” said Karo. “We don’t want to get in the middle of a battle between the Elders and the Seer. Survival is a daily struggle—it’s hard enough just avoiding the furless.” She rose to her paws, her tail low. “Bad things happen. We can’t stop to think about them too long. Not when there’s a skulk to feed.” She shook out her fur. “I’m going hunting.”

  Flint sprang to his paws. “I’ll come too.”

  “Do you hunt together?” I asked in surprise.

  “Not in the way you mean,” said Karo. “Not like wolves or dogs—we are not a pack. A fox is a lone hunter, but we share the kill. No one in this skulk goes hungry.” She made for the tunnel.

  Flint started after her. “Let’s all get some air. It would do us good. When darkness falls the Wildlands are stalked by pleached foxes. At least we know that they’ll leave us alone while the sun is high.”

  We padded out into a cool sun. I must have slept a day and night in that burrow within the den. A flock of birds flew high overhead, cutting patterns in the sky. I took in a deep breath, relieved to drink in the sharp, sweet air of the meadow.

  The smallest fox of the skulk sidled up to me shyly.

  “I’m Mox, by the way.” He pawed the ground.

  “I’m Isla.”

  “I know.” He looked up, looked down at his paws. They were smudged with gray, like his muzzle. “They say you can do foxcraft.”

  “A bit.”

  His bent tail started wagging. “I wish I’d seen you save the coyote … I mean, the Elder’s messenger in disguise. Simmi and Tao told me about it! I couldn’t come with them …” His long ears rolled back. “I’d love to know foxcraft, but I’m not like the others. Greatfa says I’m special, but I know it’s not a good thing really. I was born without enough maa. It means I need to rest a lot.” He gave his tail a shake, as though to say it didn’t matter. “It’s always been that way … You must have strong maa. You remind me of Liro.”

  “The fox that disappeared?”

  Mox pressed closer. “I think they caught him. It’s like Ma said, he was a sharp fox, and he was quick—too quick for the furless. But he hasn’t appeared among the pleached foxes, either.”

  I was about to reply when one of the old vixens—Dexa or Mips, I wasn’t sure which—called Mox over to her. “Come out of the sunlight, you know it gives you headaches.”

  He blinked at me and shuffled to the shade.

  Karo and Flint were prowling across the grass. I saw them touch noses and part ways at a hedgerow. Simmi and Tao capered about as Mox settled down beside Dexa and Mips. He must have been from the same litter, but he looked much younger. He might have been a cub. The bones stuck out on his narrow back and his limbs seemed frail. He rested his gray-smudged muzzle on his paws and watched his boisterous brother and sister chase each other’s tails.

  I felt a pang of pity for Mox, not strong enough for their games.

  The two old vixens huddled close to him protectively. One licked his ears while the other picked a burr from his flank.

  Siffrin stood at a distance from the skulk, gazing toward the wood. I turned away from him, my tail drifting low. Haiki jogged over to me. “Isla, can I speak with you?” His voice was hushed.

  “You don’t need to ask permission. Where were you when the coyotes arrived?” I hadn’t meant to sound accusing. I glanced over my shoulder. Siffrin had lowered his gaze. He was watching me, his ears pricked up.

  “I woke up and felt trapped, down in the den with all those strangers. The old fox scares me a bit …” He shifted uneasily from paw to paw. “Everyone was asleep, it was so quiet. I just wanted some air … I went to the stream to drink, to clear my head. But then I heard the coyotes and hid. I was just beyond the nettles—close enough to smell the pack. I was sure they’d find me and tear me limb from limb.” He shuddered. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I wasn’t leaving or anything like that. I wouldn’t leave without you!”

  “You can do what you like,” I said sharply. “We aren’t bound together.”

  Haiki winced, his gray tail drooping. Immediately I was sorry. The fug hanging over from maa-sharm was making me edgy. My ears rolled forward and I gave him a lick on the nose.

  Haiki brightened. “It’s only …” He glanced in Siffrin’s direction. “Only I thought you might reconsider. You know, about going to the Elders. I still think they’re the best hope we have, and if the messenger is willing to take us—to take you, but maybe I could come—well, that’s worth thinking about.” His ears twisted. “I miss my skulk. Being with these foxes is such a relief, after so much time alone. But seeing them all together, so happy … It’s hard. Do you know what I mean?”

  My tail curved around my flank. I did know.

  “If the Elders can help us, don’t you think it’s worth a try?” He glanced around, spotting Siffrin, who had started grooming his coat.

  I flexed my whiskers. Was I being needlessly stubborn? Could the Elders help us?

  Haiki threw another wary glance toward Siffrin. “Is it the Elders you’re worried about? Or is it the messenger himself?”

  I ran my claws along the dirt between two blades of grass. “I met Siffrin in the Snarl. I thought he was helping me, but he didn’t tell me everything he knew. Important stuff, stuff that changes things. I’m worried that the Elders won’t tell us much either.”

  “The messenger—Siffrin—he said they wanted you to come to the Elder Rock for your own protection. What makes you think they wouldn’t help once you get there?”

  Simmi and Tao were batting each other near the entrance to the den. They turned their heads in our direction.

  “I don’t understand it myself,” I murmured as the two young foxes gamboled toward us. Their ears were back and they panted cheerfully. They had obviously decided to be friendly.

  Simmi was breathless. “Do you want to see our patch?”

  Tao’s brush was wagging. “The territory has a stream right through the middle of it, and lots of places to hunt or sleep.”

  “It’s probably the best patch in all the Upper Wildlands.” Simmi’s chest puffed up with pride.

  “Please show us!” yelped Haiki with feeling.

  “This way!” Tao cut a path between the nettles. Simmi hurried after him and Haiki followed. For a moment I paused, inclining my head so I could see Siffrin from the corner of my eye. He was still sitting in the same place but he was no longer looking my way.

  We padded through grass and edged around bracken. Soon I could hear the gurgling of a stream.

  When we found it, I stopped for a grateful drink. The water tingled the back of my throat, and I felt refreshed when I lifted my dripping muzzle.

  I peered out over the meadow. I noticed a raised peak in the distance. “What’s that hillock covered in heather? It looks like a good place for a view over the patch.” Silently, I added, And a good place to try gerra-sharm—to reach out to my brother.

  Simmi’s eyes glittered. “We’ll take you there!” She led the way with excited prances. We slid between leafy bracken, the earth gently swelling before us. The stream reappeared, weaving its route through the meadow. We trod alongside it for several brush-lengths be
fore it dived away at a sharp angle and hurried off toward the woods. I remembered the coyote chief, alone on the white rock. Was his pack still in mourning? What would they do now that he’d gone?

  A blood sun is risen!

  I wondered what death meant to coyotes—what they believed.

  My thoughts drifted to Farraclaw, the wolf from the beast dens. He had spoken of the hunt, with its honor and death.

  A single beast, a single heart, as the hooves of your quarry beat a path like thunder. To risk the stampede; to sacrifice yourself, so that the Bishar survives. Never dead. Never forgotten. Always alive in the howls of the living.

  Cubs of Canista, but so different from us.

  I saw no honor in death. It was a dark void, a yearning emptiness. Sorrow crept along my fur and I pushed it away. There was no point howling at the moon or whimpering beneath the sun—it wouldn’t bring my family back.

  As we reached the heather-topped hillock, I could see where grass gave over to forest. Had the wolf made it through the Wildlands? Or had the furless caught up with him and wrestled him back into a cage?

  “Up here,” Simmi panted, scaling the top of the hillock.

  The landscape opened up before us. Padding in a circle, I took in hawthorn bushes and lush green pastures. A couple of rabbits were out on the meadow. I caught a flash of ginger fur: Karo was stalking toward them. Her shoulders glided above the long grass. She paused, watching the rabbits as they hopped a few paces and started to nibble at shrubs.

  “Our territory goes up to the woods in the North, and the hazels in the East,” said Simmi proudly. “Ma and Fa are the best hunters. Dexa and Mips mostly catch small prey like mice and voles. They tend to stay near the den.”

  “We’re getting pretty good at hunting too!” declared Tao.

  “I wish we knew some foxcraft,” Simmi whined. “We’d be the terror of rabbits everywhere! Pleached foxes wouldn’t dare creep around the meadow at night.” She glanced thoughtfully over her patch. “They never used to be so brave.”