Siffrin’s eyes were blazing. “Now do you understand? Now can you see why I’m so grateful to her—why she and the Elders mean so much to me? They’re the only family I’ve ever known, the only ones I can remember. And they’re all that protects us from the Mage.”
I could feel my anger waning. Picturing him as a small, scared cub, I did understand. “Why can’t they just kill him?”
Siffrin batted away a stem of grass. “It isn’t that simple. Foxcraft can sap a fox’s maa, you know that yourself now. It would take extraordinary strength to pleach a whole army—if pleaching really is how the Mage controls his victims. He must be gaining the power somewhere. He is stronger than he should be. Even the Elders are at a loss.”
“Is pleaching a foxcraft?” I’d asked Flint the same question but he hadn’t replied. Perhaps he didn’t know.
Siffrin glanced over his shoulder. He sniffed the air, his whiskers bristling. When he turned back to me, his voice was so low that I strained to hear him over the stream. “A rare and dangerous one,” he breathed. “Its practice is a closely guarded secret that the Elders have sworn to take to their deaths, as have all Elders before them.” He cast a look into the darkness. “Only among the Elders themselves should pleaching be performed. I cannot guess how it is done and Jana would never tell me—it is against foxlore to speak of pleaching beyond the Rock. If the Mage has learned its ways we are in greater peril than I’d ever imagined.”
I took in the sounds of the night, the hoots and chirps, the rustling of leaves. The heather-topped hillock was a gray silhouette. I had stood there, calling to Pirie, and been met with silence. Where would I go?
I thought of the Elders with their special powers. One of them—Mika?—had sensed me. What if she could help me find Pirie? My brow crinkled. “If the Elders are the only foxes who know how to pleach, how come the Mage can do it?”
Siffrin swallowed, his tail flicking against the grass. “Two of the Elders have disappeared.”
His meaning dawned on me. “When we met in the Snarl, you said the Black Fox was missing. You think—”
My words were cut short by a distant volley of gekkers.
“The Taken,” hissed Siffrin. He darted along the grassy bank toward the den. For a moment I stood still, bewildered by what he’d told me. The Mage was amassing an army of blank-eyed foxes, drawing upon some unknown power. He knew foxcraft that was never performed beyond the Rock.
That could mean only one thing.
The Mage was an Elder.
Night stole slowly into my dreams, muddled with shards of memory. I pictured my old patch, but not as I’d known it. The grass was dappled with warming light. A blizzard of tiny white flowers hung over the fence and tall blue posies bobbed their heads on the breeze. Butterflies danced loops in the sky. I pounced at them, but they slipped through my outstretched paws like air. I gamboled through the flowers in search of my family. The den was empty. A small patch of mottled fur clung to the entrance—Pirie’s fur, or Greatma’s. I took a sniff but it smelled of nothing.
I padded to the wildway on the far side of the fence. As I climbed over the broken branch, a pelt of cloud drew over the sky. In a pawstep, the world changed. Frost shimmered at the base of the branch, leading to a frozen midnight world. It wasn’t the wildway that I had known—a grassy yard walled in by fences. There were no borders to the land. It stretched in all directions, sparkling with frost, fading to darkness. My paws crunched on the frozen ground as I padded beneath the trees.
“Greatma? Pirie?”
My voice came back to me as an echo. My ears rotated and I paused, forepaw suspended. Two ravens wheeled overhead.
Flesh-eating birds. That’s what Fa had called them. “Scavengers, they feast on rotting meat.”
Back in the Wildlands, when he was a cub, his skulk had trailed ravens across pastures—it was an easy way to find a meal during times of hunger.
“Don’t be scared, they’re helpful,” he’d assured me and Pirie. “Follow the ravens and you’ll find the kill.” I looked to the twisting pelt of the sky. The ravens were barely visible, slick feathers against dark clouds. I started padding between the trees, weaving a path through the frost. In time, the ground grew mulchy beneath my paws. More trees appeared, expanding in all directions. Their branches bent and grasped like talons.
Whiskers tensed, I crept deeper into the forest. The cry of the ravens made my fur stand on end.
Flesh-eating birds. The fur rose along my back.
Follow the ravens and you’ll find the kill.
The forest around me grew denser and deeper. I shrank back, hurrying toward the fence. But as I retraced my steps, the trees hunched together, blocking my way. Their long branches wove in angled knots. Was I heading in the right direction? A peculiar smell caught my nose—the whiff of something sour. Yellow mushrooms peeked up from the mulchy earth. My eyes stung with their rancid smell.
I turned again, confused. The trees were all around me. The mushrooms seemed to be shuffling closer. I ran away from the stench of decay, but the forest wove ahead of me. A screech above and my head shot up. The ravens were wheeling in circles, drifting lower. Their dark eyes glittered in the failing light.
They weren’t leading me anywhere.
I was leading them.
* * *
“Isla, wake up.” Haiki was gazing down on me. His soft brown eyes and fluffy face drew me out of my dark dreams. “It’s dawn,” he said. “Rupus has an idea.”
I shook my fur. The skulk was awakening, stretching and yawning. Straining to hear, I caught no sound of the ghoulish Taken over the Ghost Valley. They must have retreated with the first light.
The old fox was sitting by the entrance to the tunnel, his forepaws folded under him. Further along the wall, Siffrin was grooming his coat.
I rubbed my eyes with a forepaw. “What sort of idea?”
I’d spoken softly, but Rupus heard me. “I saw your friend returning from a late drink at the stream. I asked him if he still planned to find the Elders.”
I watched Siffrin from the corner of my eye. He stiffened, studying Rupus with interest. Flint and Karo exchanged glances and Simmi nudged Tao.
“I said …” Haiki swallowed, uneasy before the gaze of the skulk. “I thought it was the only way. The only way to find my family.”
“But it isn’t just about your family, is it, gray fox?” Rupus’s small eyes were searching. “Nor Isla’s brother, or any one of us. It is, after all, about all of us.”
I glanced at Siffrin. Hadn’t he said something similar back in the Great Snarl?
Rupus spoke with grim determination. “I have never had much patience for the Elders, but we are under attack. It is said that the Darklands have doubled in size since the last gloaming. The Deep Forest has expanded into the Marshlands. At the borders of the Darklands, meadows perish.”
I shivered at the memory of my dream.
Rupus shook his head. “When my ma and fa settled here many malintas back, it was to escape the furless, whose range had grown far beyond the limits of the Graylands. Where they came, the deathway appeared, and where the deathway led, more furless followed. We always believed them to be the greatest menace. But a new threat has risen, even deadlier than the furless, because it knows what we are and it knows how to find us. In time, our meadow will also rot.”
“It won’t!” yelped Flint. “We’ll defend it.”
Simmi and Tao barked in agreement, slamming their forepaws on the ground.
Karo sprang up, her long tail swishing. “We’d rather die than let it fall to the Seer.”
“And die you shall, if nothing is done.” Rupus ran his cool gaze over the skulk, pausing at Siffrin and ending with me and Haiki. “Or worse, you’ll become one of them. One of the ‘Taken,’ as these young foxes call them. It is only a matter of time.”
Karo screwed up her pointy snout. “Canista’s Lights shine bright on the longest day of the year. The earth will be full of maa. With the power of th
e gloaming, we’ll defend ourselves.”
“The gloaming,” snorted Rupus. His voice rose in anger. “Don’t you see, we won’t make it to the gloaming! The way things are going, we will scarcely survive malinta.”
Karo dropped her head. Perhaps she sensed her fa was right.
One of the old vixens spoke. “What of the Free Lands to the east?”
Mox buried his head against her belly. “They’re so far,” he whimpered. “There are hills, and lakes, and furless dens. Wild animals live in the ranges beneath the Raging River, and I’ve heard there’s scarcely any food …” The little fox must have known he wouldn’t have the strength for such a journey.
“We’re not going to the Free Lands.” Rupus shook his skinny tail. “If we start running now, we’ll be running forever. If we hope to survive, we’ll need more than our courage and a deep-buried den.” He turned to Siffrin with a hard look. “I want you to take us to the Elders. We must learn the secrets of foxcraft.”
* * *
Siffrin’s muzzle was firm, his amber eyes thoughtful. “I cannot take a whole skulk. Isla could come with me. We could seek the Elders’ counsel on your behalf.”
I was about to protest. Quietly, I’d decided to go to the Elders, but I hadn’t shared this thought with Siffrin.
“Not good enough,” snapped Rupus before I could speak. “With the greatest respect, Isla’s not of our skulk—and neither are you.”
Siffrin’s brush was twitching. “So many foxes moving through the Wildlands … someone would see us.”
“Not all of us, then. A couple of our quickest young foxes.” Rupus looked over the skulk. “Take Simmi and Tao.”
They yipped and barked enthusiastically. Mox gave a small whine and slouched against the wall, gathering his tail around him.
Siffrin was quiet a long time. When he spoke at last he was resolute. “I would like to help you, but we’d never make it across the shana.”
I ran my tongue over my muzzle. “What do you mean, the ‘shana’?” I had heard the term before.
He turned his amber eyes on me. “It’s a ring of maa that the Elders weave around the Rock in a secret ritual called ‘shana-sharm.’ Without it, the Mage might attack any time. Even the Elders couldn’t fend off an army of Taken.” Siffrin turned back to Rupus. “Given everything that’s happening, the Elders will be wary. They won’t let strangers pass. Jana knows about Isla, but she can’t know of your skulk. I need to go ahead to assure her that it’s safe. I can return for Isla, Simmi, and Tao if she agrees. It’s the best I can do.”
Simmi’s shoulders sank with disappointment. “If you let him go without us, he’ll never come back.”
“I will. I promise.” Siffrin met her gaze and Simmi blinked at him curiously. My ears flipped back. How dare the red-furred fox make decisions without checking with me! I hadn’t said that I’d go to the Elders. But Haiki’s brown eyes willed me to agree.
“When will you return?” I asked.
“If I run all the way, stopping only to rest, I can be back by the third moon. Then I’ll lead you to the Elders with Simmi and Tao.”
A muffled whimper escaped Haiki’s throat. I thought of him left behind with the skulk, never knowing what became of his family. Going to the Elders was his idea—it was practically the first thing he’d said when we’d met.
“And Haiki,” I added.
Siffrin’s tail-tip fluttered. “And Haiki.”
* * *
The sun was climbing over the meadow as Siffrin padded through the tunnel and out toward the nettles. Haiki and the Wildlands skulk held back at the entrance of the den.
I rushed forward. “Don’t go yet.”
Siffrin turned back to me in surprise. “What is it? You will come with me, won’t you? When I return?”
“I’ll come with you to the Elders.”
The tension left his face and he sighed with relief.
But I hadn’t finished. “Before you go …” I glanced back at the skulk, then took a few paces toward him so I was out of earshot. “Teach me wa’akkir.”
Siffrin stiffened. “Isla, I can’t …”
I pushed ahead of him, stalking through the nettles. “Of course you can.”
He padded behind me. “It’s a complex foxcraft. Foxlore insists it is only for those trained in the higher arts. A fox must study his subject, mimicking their movements and behavior. There are important rules that accompany its practice.”
I frowned impatiently. “What sort of rules?”
“Like not all creatures should be mimicked—wa’akkir is only for cubs of Canista. You could shift into a dog or a coyote, but not into, I don’t know … a squirrel. They’re too different from us. It would be dangerous, unstable.”
“I wouldn’t!”
“Misuse is—”
“I know. As long as I don’t meet the creature I’ve mimicked, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I added slyly.
“There’s more to it than that.”
“But it can’t cause anyone harm—not like pleaching.”
Siffrin sighed. “It can cause you harm.”
I wound through the grass to the bank of the stream. “It’s tiring, I get it. I’ll only shape-shift if I really have to.”
Siffrin paused by the side of the stream. “Wa’akkir is a higher art. It drains maa. Staying too long in the altered state leads to premature aging. Everything withers, like a fallen leaf.”
Despite myself, my ears flipped back. “I’ll be careful. I won’t just turn into anyone.”
Siffrin looked stern. “It isn’t that you’d actually change. It’s an illusion, like slimmering. You’d still smell like yourself. Others might sense an impostor, especially those trained in foxcraft themselves. Your true nature cannot always be concealed.”
I remembered the first time I’d met Siffrin, in the shape of a wiry dog. A dog with no shadow, whose reflection against shimmering spy holes revealed a red-furred fox. But there were no spy holes in the Wildlands, away from furless dens, and shadows were lost among thickets of leaves.
Siffrin licked his paw pad. “I’m leaving, Isla. Why don’t you come with me? The Elders may instruct you in wa’akkir. They’re better teachers than I am.”
I glanced back toward the nettles. “Leave without the others?”
“It would be safer.”
My lip twitched over my fangs. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “I’m not just going to abandon foxes who’ve helped me. And I need to know how to perform wa’akkir. Could you tell me the chant? I can work out the rest.”
Siffrin stamped the ground with his forepaw. “Isla, it isn’t just about the chant. You’re not old enough and frankly I doubt you’re wise enough for the higher arts.”
Anger crackled along my fur. “I knew it wouldn’t be long until you spoke down to me.” I glared at him, a snarl in my throat. “You think you’re so clever, hoarding wa’akkir to yourself!”
“For the final time …” He didn’t finish. His amber eyes grew round.
“What is it?” I hissed.
“Get down!”
It was then that I saw one of the scrawny dogs from the gorge. I dropped onto my belly. My eyes scanned the long grass of the meadow. “Be careful,” I whispered. “There’s another one.”
Siffrin frowned, his nostrils pulsing. “Only one?”
The soil trembled and the thump of paws disturbed the grass. Two stout dogs hurried out from behind a tree, a gingery one with floppy ears and a dirty white dog with a shaggy coat. The black-and-tan from the gorge trotted after them.
Taking the lead was the tall dog that Haiki had tricked. This time, he had his whole pack around him. My belly flipped as more dogs shuffled out from under a briar bush.
Their lips curled back over pointed jaws, their muscles tensed for a fight.
Flattening my body, I did my best to melt into the grass. It was harder for Siffrin. He was much larger than me, with a thick red brush that refused to be concealed.
�
�They’ll see you,” I mouthed. I could tell they had already smelled us from their rigid bodies. The larger dog from the gorge swiveled his head. His muzzle was pulsing, a snarl in his throat. Haiki’s trick meant I’d escaped him before. If he saw me again, he would take his revenge.
Siffrin’s lips were uttering the faintest words.
“I am the fur that ruffles your back. I am the twist and shake of your tail. Let me appear in the shape of your body: no one can tell; others will fear; dare not come near!”
From the corner of my eye, I saw the dogs pause to sniff the earth. What was Siffrin doing?
The air around him grew soft, a cloud of red fur. The black-and-tan dog had paused and was looking in our direction. Her ears pricked up and she growled.
I thrummed with panic.
They’re going to see him!
Was it worth a quick yip of alarm? I opened my mouth. But before I could make a sound, Siffrin disappeared from view. My jaw hung open. I sniffed the air, my whiskers springing forward. I could smell the sweet, rich tang of his coat. I realized he was still there, pressed upon the grass. Instead of twisting his shape into a terrible beast, he’d turned into a tiny, sandy-furred creature—the smallest dog I had ever seen.
The black-and-tan cocked her head in confusion. She barked to the others, who shot around to look at her.
“What is it?” snapped the tall, dark-furred dog. “A rabbit?”
“Something moved in the grass! At first it looked like … like a fox with a big red tail. But a moment later I saw a small dog. Then it disappeared.”
“Well, which one was it? A rabbit, a fox or … What was the other one?” There was a snide edge to the tall dog’s voice.
“Disappeared?” yelped the white dog with the shaggy fur. “Have you been chewing canarygrass again?”
The other dogs snorted and yapped, despite having been on guard themselves only a moment ago.
Siffrin’s eyes were sharp when they found mine. “Slimmer,” he mouthed. “Now!”
The Elders Page 10
