Tao’s tail was thrashing wildly. “You heard what Greatfa said. We don’t need the Elders and their foxcraft! I trapped a squirrel last week all on my own.”
“It had a broken leg,” Simmi pointed out.
Tao growled at her. “So what? It was still hard to catch! And everyone got to try a bit.”
I was impressed by how this large skulk worked together for their survival. “How about Mox?” I asked, still looking out over the meadow. From the corner of my eye, I saw Simmi and Tao exchange a look.
“He tried some too,” said Tao. “A leg, I think.”
“That’s not what Isla meant.” Simmi crept closer to me. “Mox doesn’t hunt,” she said in a hushed voice, though we were nowhere near the other foxes. “We don’t expect him to … He eats from the skulk’s cache.”
“It isn’t his fault,” Tao put in quickly. “He was sick when he was born, and he never really recovered.”
I was touched by their loyalty. I couldn’t imagine an ailing newborn surviving long in the Great Snarl.
Tao shook his fur. “It must be completely different where you come from, Isla.”
I thought of the endless graystone and the dark, jagged walls. “The furless are everywhere in huge numbers. And their dens—you can hardly move for their dens.”
“They build aboveground, don’t they?” asked Haiki. “Not like us.”
“Not like rabbits!” added Tao. “There are furless in the Wildlands, though they’re more scattered here. They’re dangerous, though. Particularly hunters.”
Alarm crossed Haiki’s face. “A hunter chased us.”
Simmi cocked her head. “You were lucky to escape. That’s why we rarely leave the patch. Most of the furless live toward the Graylands. Not that you can really avoid them. They’re everywhere. Can you see that dark strip at the edge of the forest?”
We looked out over the bushes.
“That’s the deathway. The furless stalk along it in manglers.”
I caught sight of the graystone. I hadn’t realized that the deathway traveled this far. “There’s nowhere beyond their reach,” I murmured. “The furless have carved up the world and made it theirs.”
Tao flashed a conspiratorial look. “There is one place. Up in the Snowlands, beyond the Raging River. It’s so cold there that even the furless stay away.”
Simmi’s eyes sparkled with savage delight. “But you wouldn’t want to end up there.” She lowered her voice. “They say that the wind is so sharp it whips the fur from your skin, and the snow is so cold that it freezes the blood. Malinta scarcely reaches the Snowlands. But that’s not even the worst of it! Snow wolves prowl the tundra in packs—giant beasts who’ll tear you to shreds!” She spun with a shriek and leaped on Tao, who rolled in surprise. He chased her down the hillock through the heather. Haiki barked excitedly, racing after them. I watched as the three young foxes bounded over the grassy meadow. My tail twitched with excitement but I held back.
I used to play like that with Pirie.
Alone on the hillock, I called to him. “Where are you?”
The wind whistled through the heather. The stream gurgled over the rocks. High overhead, a lone crow cawed.
But my brother did not answer.
“Pirie? Pirie, are you there?”
“I’m just behind you.”
I craned my neck. He was standing on the frosty grass at the edge of the frozen circle. He tapped a forepaw on the ice but held back. “Can you feel the heat of the sun yet?”
The pigeon gray of the sky was tinged with white streaks. My fur felt damp along my back, even though no rain fell. The fence to our patch was licked with frost.
My paw pads ached with cold. I took another step over the ice. “The sun must be trapped very deep. I can’t feel any heat at all.” I lowered my muzzle and sniffed. Did the sun have a scent? The ice didn’t smell of anything. Squinting, I took in its silvery shimmer, and the touches of gold that glanced across the surface—the sun was down there, but how would we reach it?
I took another step, my forepaw skidding, and yelped in frustration. It was like learning to walk for the first time.
Pirie snorted.
“It’s harder than it looks!”
He cocked his head. “I believe you.”
We’d agreed that only one of us should cross the frozen circle. The other would watch out for Greatma, Ma, or Fa. They’d be grateful, of course, once we’d rescued the sun, but if they caught us in the act we knew they wouldn’t understand.
I was the one to find the sun. It was up to me to investigate. I’d insisted that Pirie stay on the grass—but that was before I knew how hard it was to walk on ice.
I turned back to the frozen circle. I wanted to reach the middle—that’s where the golden light was brightest—that’s where I’d feel the sun’s warmth. I wasn’t sure what I’d do when I got there. Maybe dig a hole so that it could escape. How big was the sun? Beyond the clouds, it never seemed large, but it was hard to tell.
I felt a cool fizzle on my ear and looked up. The white streaks of the sky had grown longer, looping against the gray. A small wisp swirled down to rest on my nose. As I lapped at it, it melted on my tongue. Another flake landed before me on the ice.
“It’s snowing!” yelped Pirie. I tried to turn but my paws slipped beneath me. I spun along the frozen circle and flopped onto my belly. Pirie snorted in amusement. As if he’d do any better! I snarled at him but excitement tingled at my fur-tips. I scrambled onto my forepaws and sent myself whirling, this time on purpose, my tail flying up in the air. The snow was falling more heavily. Yet each flake was so delicate and light it was a wonder they didn’t just float in the sky like tiny winged insects. I snapped at the falling snow, enjoying the icy fizz on my tongue.
When I slid to a stop I’d come much further into the frozen circle. I blinked the wisps from my lashes and looked around. Snow fell thickly in the neighboring patch. Already the trees were growing white and a twinkling pelt coated the fence. The world of the furless—the land of graystone and brittle walls—was fading into softness. Snowflakes landed with a whisper, disguising the sound of pawsteps over frost.
I yelped in alarm. Between cool twists of white I saw a pair of amber eyes.
Pirie shrilled back. “What is it?”
I drew in my breath, my legs rigid against the ice. It wasn’t any warmer here after all. A shiver ran along my back. A large male fox was watching me. Snow clung to his fur as his long brush drifted back and forth. The white tip quivered in question or threat—I couldn’t be sure.
Pirie must have spotted him. “Stay away from her!” he spat. To me, he spoke in an urgent breath. “Come over here, Isla. We need to get back to the den.”
My heart started thumping. Strangers were dangerous—Greatma had told us that dozens of times. I started scrambling over the ice. I was moving much more quickly now, but my legs refused to obey my commands. They thrashed and slipped beneath me, struggling to keep me upright. I smacked against the circle with a clunk. Something cracked under my belly. I panicked, afraid I had hurt myself, but as I lay still the pain didn’t come.
The bite of icy water.
I shrank back, alarmed. The ice had splintered across the circle as though sliced by a talon. As it parted, I saw no hint of the sun. Water splashed over the growing gap, freezing and depthless.
“The ice is breaking!” I squinted through the heavy snowfall, seeking Pirie, but I’d lost my bearings. Instead of my brother, I saw the large fox. He was rising, his black legs stark against the whitening yard.
He stalked toward the cracking circle, his cool eyes fixed on me.
* * *
The sky was growing dark as Karo and Flint returned to the den. Karo carried two large rabbits in her jaws. Flint dropped a third in a heap alongside them. Dexa, Mips, and Siffrin had gathered a bird and several mice.
Simmi, Tao, and Mox yipped like cubs. They panted and thrashed their tails, rushing at their parents, just as Pirie and I h
ad greeted ours after a hunt.
“We cached another rabbit,” said Flint, giving me and Haiki a gently mocking look. “This can be eaten straightaway. That is, if everyone’s hungry.”
Haiki watched, his ears twisting forward and back.
“We’re starving!” yelped Mox.
Tao was drumming his forepaws on the ground.
Simmi was the first to bite down on a rabbit. The rest of the skulk fell upon the kill, tearing and gnashing. My belly rumbled but I held back warily. It wasn’t my skulk. I’d already stolen their food—I didn’t need Flint to remind me of that.
Apparently Haiki didn’t share my concerns. He scooped a mouse into his jaws and snarfed it greedily. Even Siffrin was eating, crunching on the bird at the edge of the nettles. He gulped down a mouthful and met my eye. His gaze was challenging. What are you waiting for? it seemed to say. Did he mean the kill, or something else?
I edged forward. Tao was wrestling one of the rabbits. I seized on a dangling back leg and we tussled it between us before falling back with our own hunks of meat.
Bellies full, we climbed into the den. I settled along the wall, licking my paws. I thought of the skulk’s easy generosity. I remembered how friendly Haiki had been when I’d first met him. Both were far from the hostility I’d encountered in the Great Snarl, even from my own kind. I pictured the elderly vixen who’d chased me out of a wildway on my first night alone. Then I remembered what had happened to her. The snatchers had grabbed her roughly and carried her away, beyond a yellow door where foxes were taken and never came back.
Graylands foxes had reason to be wary.
The skulk stretched out across the den, washing themselves. An air of calm fell over the foxes. Even Simmi and Tao were relaxed, grooming Mox’s fur. Haiki padded to my side and shuffled onto his belly with a yawn. “Rabbit is so tasty.”
“It is,” I agreed, lapping my muzzle. I looked up to see Siffrin watching. He held my gaze, then turned and started along the tunnel.
I rose to my paws.
Haiki stared at me. “Where are you going? We only just came inside.”
“I need to talk to Siffrin.”
“I’ll come with you.” He started to rise.
“I’ll be back soon.” I had to do this alone.
His ears flattened. “Are you sure?” Flint turned his dark head in our direction and Haiki spoke more quietly. “There’s something not quite right about Siffrin … Like he knows more than he’s saying.” He pawed me anxiously. “I wish you’d stay here, with me and the skulk. What if he tries to harm you with foxcraft?”
I was touched by Haiki’s concern. “I’m not scared of Siffrin.” I gave the gray-furred fox a quick lick on the nose and stepped away before he could say any more. I ignored the curious glances of the skulk as I wove between them and into the tunnel.
Siffrin was standing among the nettles, just where he’d appeared in the guise of a coyote. His thick brush swept the grass in a rhythmic movement. Behind him the moon rose in the sky.
“I didn’t know if you’d come,” he said.
“I thought I’d hear what you had to say.”
He tilted his head. “The valley is quiet. The Taken are most active when the moon sets. Let’s go by the stream where we won’t be overheard.”
My ears twisted. Who did he think might be listening? Was he worried about the skulk? Siffrin’s words awakened a new fear—what if Karo and Flint had their own reasons for letting us stay?
Siffrin’s tail swished as he turned and stalked through the nettles. My ears flicked back. He assumed I would follow him.
I padded at a distance.
He led us over the gentle incline of the meadow along the winding path of the stream. He paused at a hazel bush, his snout punching the air, before he settled down on a bed of moss.
I sat opposite, watching warily. There were so many questions I’d wanted to ask him, so many things I needed to say. But now, in the darkness of the meadow, I forgot what they were.
Siffrin was the first to speak. “When the snatchers took you away, I thought that was the end of you.” His right ear twitched. “I had no choice but to return to the Wildlands. I went straight to Jana, to tell her what had happened. I was surprised when she said you were still alive.”
“How did she know?”
“An Elder called Mika told her. Mika has a way of sensing these things.”
“Foxcraft?”
He caught my eye. “A state called ‘pashanda.’ Only the Elders can do it, and Mika’s their expert. They enter into a kind of trance and summon knowledge from the wind.”
“And Pirie? Did she sense him too?”
“I don’t know.” Siffrin glanced down at a forepaw. “I only saw Jana. I told her what I’d seen in maa-sharm after the Taken skulk caught up with us. She agreed that you’re special. She thought it would be dangerous for you to wander alone.”
My tail flicked irritably. “I’ve managed this far.”
“The journey to the Elder Rock is hazardous. There is the deathway, woodlands, and a path that appears with the last brush of dusk. Old forces defend the lands surrounding the Rock. Not all who search will find what they are looking for. And you’ll be followed too, you won’t get far. The Mage will know about you from Karka.”
“Karka’s dead,” I said flatly.
Siffrin looked up in surprise. “You didn’t … ?”
“Not me.” I thought of the wolf from the beast dens. He’d killed the Mage’s assassin as though it was nothing. I remembered the fierce, brutal power of the wolf’s mighty jaws and the blood that clung to his maw.
“But the Taken knew,” said Siffrin. “They knew about you. And that means that the Mage must know about you too.”
I glowered. “And I suppose they know what he did to my family.”
Siffrin winced. “I should have told you the truth right away, but please understand. I had instructions to find Pirie. I thought that if you knew what had happened you wouldn’t let me help you. We are in the midst of a war for the freedom of our kind—I had to put the Elders first. I didn’t know you then. Once I did, it was too late to tell you.”
My fur itched. “Oh, I understand. I understand that you used me.” My eyes trailed down to his foreleg, dark in the moonlight. “All this talk of Jana and the Elders. But I’ve seen your secret—it’s scorched on your flesh.”
Siffrin’s tail twitched. “You know I’m not one of the Taken. You can’t possibly think—”
“Then why do you carry the mark?”
“If you hate me so much, why did you give me maa-sharm?”
We glared at each other. In the silence that followed, the stream seemed to grow louder, hissing as the water leaped over pebbles. Siffrin raised his muzzle to the moon. “I was a much younger cub than you are now. I lived in the Marshlands—I told you that, didn’t I? I remember the tufty grasses and watery ponds with large yellow flowers, and the clouds of mosquitoes that closed in at dusk. It’s my family I’ve forgotten. Perhaps I was part of a large litter. I have a sense that there were other cubs around me—a feeling of ease, the hint of a soothing smell. Even my ma’s face has vanished from my memories. Whether she was lean, tall, good at hunting. The color of her coat.”
I frowned, watching Siffrin. “Did the Taken come after you? Did they give you that mark on your foreleg?”
“The Taken can’t perform foxcraft—they can’t steal another fox’s will. It takes the Narral to do that.”
“The Mage’s inner guard?”
Siffrin dipped his head. “Like Karka … The Narral are experts in foxcraft. If you see a skulk of Taken, and one is a free fox, run for your life!”
I shuddered, remembering the one-eyed vixen.
“In my case, the Mage didn’t send an assassin,” said Siffrin. “Back then, there probably wasn’t anyone else. He hadn’t yet found the source of his power, but he must have been seeking it with the full cunning of his ambition. I can’t say if he had a brush—I’ve heard t
hat it’s missing, but I honestly don’t remember.”
“The Tailless Seer,” I mumbled.
Siffrin’s ears flicked back. “That’s what they call him here. The one that turns fertile lands to ruin.”
“What happened to your family?” I asked, though I already knew.
“He killed them. My ma and fa, the rest of the skulk. The other cubs too. I don’t know why he spared me.” Siffrin’s voice was cool. “Jana thinks that it could have been an early test, to see if he could extract my will.”
“Sorry … About your family.”
Siffrin glanced at me, his eyes blank. “It was a long time ago.”
I watched him uncertainly. “The foxes here say that the Mage’s skulk are ‘pleached.’ ” I remembered Flint’s words. We call them “pleached” because of what’s been done to them. “So pleaching … It can be reversed?”
“Not easily. The thing that’s stolen must be released,” he said vaguely.
“The will?”
“No, I mean …” He trailed off. “Run fast, be safe, live free,” he added in a whisper.
“There are so many pleached foxes. Where do they all come from—the Taken? Haiki calls them that too.”
“He isn’t from around here?”
“He’s from the lowlands.”
“Not far from the marshes, where I come from.” Siffrin inclined his head slightly.
“So I was right, the Mage left that scar on your foreleg?”
The red-furred fox flexed his paw. “I was very young—I couldn’t have put up much of a fight.” He closed his eyes. “I tried to get away from him. He snapped at me and yanked me back. I remember a stab of pain.”
“He bit your foreleg.”
Siffrin opened his eyes. “Why do you say that?”
“That’s where you carry the mark. That’s where all the Taken bear a wound.”
Siffrin looked down at his foreleg, as though he’d forgotten the rose-shaped scar. “That makes sense. It was so long ago …” He gave himself a shake. “Jana found me alone in the Wildlands. She undid the Mage’s curse. She saved me from a fate worse than death and raised me as her own.”
His words had awakened a memory inside me. I looked beyond the moon and caught the faintest glimmer of Canista’s Lights. I recalled a cub beneath shadowy trees, and pictured an old gray fox.
The Elders Page 9
