The Elders

by Inbali Iserles

  My fur prickled. “That’s what Siffrin said. I thought that the fox might be Pirie … that the ‘great dog’ was a wolf in the beast dens. I went there, looking for my brother. But I was wrong.”

  The twitter of birds; the wind in the trees. In a beat I saw Ma, Fa, and Greatma—it was almost as though they were on the Rock. Then I blinked and they disappeared. My chest tightened and I felt dizzy. I missed them so much it was hard to breathe.

  Siffrin came closer. “Are you all right, Isla?”

  “She’s fine,” said Jana sharply. Siffrin backed away a pace, looking confused, and Jana’s voice softened. “She has been through a lot.”

  “She misses her family,” said Mika, as though she’d read my thoughts.

  I watched her uneasily.

  “Your brother is still alive!” Mika announced, rising suddenly.

  I leaped to my paws. “You’ve seen him? Where is he?”

  Mika frowned, one long ear craned forward, the other twisted back. Her whiskers trembled like wind-ruffled grass. Her slender tail swished behind her, the white tip glowing silver. “The winds have spoken. He lives.” She let out a slow breath. “I cannot say more.”

  My tail thrashed wildly. I was too excited to speak.

  Brin cast his gaze down to his paws. After a moment, he rose and walked to the far end of the Rock, beneath the shade of the blood-bark tree. Had I somehow offended him?

  Jana dipped her head. “You are wiser than your years. You suspected the wolf.”

  “You mean I was right?” I could hardly believe it. Farraclaw had denied any knowledge of my brother. Had he been lying?

  Jana cocked her head. “Not the wolf from the Graylands. But there are others, great in number, up in the frozen north.”

  “No,” gasped Siffrin. “She can’t …” He took a step toward Jana, his long tail twitching.

  Jana’s gray eyes were locked on mine. “Mika has seen it—your brother lives. The question is, Isla, do you have what it takes to cross the Raging River? Do you dare to go to the Snowlands?”

  I remembered what Fa had told me about the snow wolves, that they ruled great kingdoms and hunted in packs. “Pirie’s up there?” The idea terrified me.

  “Siffrin was right,” murmured Mika. “She has powerful maa.”

  “It takes more than maa to survive,” said Shaya ominously.

  Jana’s ears flicked back. “Perhaps, Isla, it comes down to this: How far will you go to get what you want?”

  Haiki’s words leaped into my thoughts. I’d do anything to get my family back. I swiped them away. I was nothing like the gray-furred fox.

  Siffrin’s tail jerked up. “She can’t!” he yelped. “It’s too dangerous. You’d be sending Isla to her death!” His long whiskers bristled. “Where would she even start? How can she find the ‘great dog’ among so many wolves?”

  Jana looked at me kindly. “Don’t underestimate Isla’s capabilities. A fox’s scent will stand out in those lands.”

  “I can track him,” I said quickly, refusing to meet Siffrin’s eye. I had traveled so far since leaving my den, had searched the Graylands and the Wildlands. There was only one place left to go.

  “We’ll come,” yipped Tao. “It will be easier to find him with three of us searching.”

  Jana turned to them. “You’ll be too busy to travel north. Once you have learned the secrets of wa’akkir, I bid you go east to the Free Lands. Warn the skulks of the coming peril and teach them what you know, so that they may have means to fight the army of Taken.”

  Hope shot through me. I had feared the Elders would refuse to help us.

  “Jana, will you really teach us wa’akkir?” I tried to disguise the desperation in my voice.

  The gray fox’s tail twitched. “Why me?”

  “Because you told us about the other Elders, and their special arts. But you never mentioned your own abilities—and you never spoke of shape-shifting.”

  Mika snorted. “Didn’t I tell you, Jana? Didn’t I say she was observant?”

  Shaya’s ears were flat. “I don’t agree with this. She’s too young. Brin feels the same.”

  The brown fox had stretched out on his belly beneath the blood-bark tree. He didn’t respond when she spoke his name. My muzzle wrinkled. I needed wa’akkir. Why did Brin and Shaya have to stand in my way?

  I was about to protest when I saw Jana grow very still. The Elders fell silent. Their tail-tips glowed silver and I knew they were speaking without words. Even Brin sat up, alone at the edge of the Rock, as stiff as a stone. It made me think of Pirie, and gerra-sharm. Longing tugged deep in my chest. I gave myself a shake.

  No … that path isn’t safe for us.

  When the light in their eyes dulled, Jana turned to me, and to Simmi and Tao by my side. “It is decided. But you must promise to respect wa’akkir’s limitations—to abide by foxlore, no matter what.”

  My tail started wagging and I willed it to still. I needed to prove I was old enough to handle wa’akkir. I dipped my head solemnly and Simmi and Tao copied me. We quickly agreed to abide by foxlore and we waited expectantly.

  Kolo limped to the shade of the blood-bark tree. Shaya followed, sitting alongside Brin. Little Mika paused, her nostrils pulsing. The fur fluttered at the base of her ears and she cocked her head. “Use it wisely, foxlings,” she said at last, before turning and padding away.

  Jana cleared her throat. “As we don’t have much time, the lesson starts here.” She drew in her breath, her ears pointed forward. “Wa’akkir is an ancient craft, a higher art. It helped our ancestors survive the brutal torments of the furless. With it you may imitate another living creature. But its rules must be strictly followed.”

  The sun hung lower between the trees. A raven fluttered overhead.

  Jana kept talking. “You do not turn into the creature, you merely imitate it. You must only shift into a Cub of Canista—all other states are unstable. You will not appear as ‘a dog,’ but as a particular dog, not as any fox but as a real, living fox.”

  I swallowed an impatient yelp. I already knew all this—when would she teach us how to do it? I stole a glance at Siffrin. He had joined the Elders, but he didn’t sit. He watched us, his long tail swishing from side to side.

  Simmi and Tao gasped and I whipped around. Jana had vanished. In her place stood a vicious dog. He flashed his fangs at me and globs of spit flew from his jaws. One struck me on the nose and I shook my head in disgust. The dog began to mutter and changed back to Jana in a shiver of golden light.

  The Elder’s eyes bored into mine. She mouthed a few soundless words. The gray eyes remained, but her body extended, her tail shrank, and her fur became lighter. Another dog faced me—this one had a snub nose and tiny ears. His muzzle was wet and gummy.

  Despite myself, I stumbled backward. “It’s just an illusion!” I spat.

  “Does this feel like an illusion?” the dog snarled, butting into me so hard that I toppled, breathless. Simmi yelped and ran to my side but froze as the dog wheeled toward her. “My jaws are just as strong as a real dog’s. I could snap your leg like a twig.” Jana started chanting, though I couldn’t catch the words. With a spasm, she switched into a tiny fox cub, an innocent creature. “Be thoughtful,” said the cub in a reedy voice. “There is more to wit than brute force.” She skipped a short distance and started to pounce, shifting into a large male fox. She landed whiskers away from Tao, who sprang into the air with a hiss.

  “Study your subject,” said Jana in the shape of the male fox. “Mimic every twitch and bark.” With a judder, she was herself again. The white tip of her tail glowed silver. “Think of the creature you wish to copy. Imagine her nose, her ears, her whiskers, the curve of her tail, the shape of her paw. If it helps, close your eyes.” As Jana spoke, her body flickered, as though it was hardly there. The light shimmered through her gossamer fur. “Then chant,” she murmured, “after me: I am the fur that ruffles your back. I am the twist and shake of your tail.”

  We
started chanting the words together. I focused my mind on a fluffy white dog I had seen in the Great Snarl. I pictured his velvety muzzle and that strange little tail that curled up above his rump.

  “Let me appear in the shape of your body: no one can tell; others will fear; dare not come near!”

  “It isn’t working,” muttered Simmi.

  I opened my eyes. She was right; she looked just the same. I studied my black forepaws, disappointed.

  “Patience, foxlings.” Jana was hardly there, her gray fur a glistening outline against the stone ground. “You must still your breath and focus your mind.” She seemed to float just above the Rock—was that an illusion? She grew so faint that she was almost invisible.

  “Like slimmering,” I ventured. Wasn’t wa’akkir different?

  “I can’t do it,” grumbled Tao, his tail rising with frustration.

  “Try not to push yourself—let it come naturally.” Jana looked to each of us in turn. “Be careful, foxlings. Wa’akkir drains maa quicker than other arts. To stay in an altered state too long is dangerous.” Something was happening as Jana spoke. Her floating form was bending, contorting. Her shimmering gray fur grew ragged. Her ears flopped down; her shoulders stooped.

  She was aging before our eyes.

  Soon Jana sank down onto the Rock, crumpled over like bones sheathed in fur. Her breathing grew scratchy.

  “Stop!” I whimpered.

  With a murmur, Jana raised her tail. The loose fur tightened at her shoulders, soft and ruffled. She looked at each of us in turn, now as a cub no older than me. “Remember, you will still smell like yourself. Your reflection will betray your true form. And you won’t have a shadow at all.” I noticed that the cub stood against sparkling stone. Her shadow should have stretched over the Rock—but it didn’t.

  I felt wary and disoriented, but my longing for wa’akkir grew stronger with every shift and change that Jana made. I did as she said, calming my breath. I murmured the chant, but my body stayed the same. “Why doesn’t it work for us?” I asked.

  With a jerk of her tail, Jana shifted again, returning to her old form. Her shadow seemed to cling to her gratefully. Her tail-tip still glowed silver.

  “It is simple,” she said. “You must invoke the creature you wish to copy. The secret is to believe—to really believe. When I finish the chant, I say to myself, ‘I am Jana. I am changing. I am …’ ” She cast about for a moment. “ ‘The great coyote.’ ” Her body juddered and a fearsome coyote spun in the air. A deep wound etched the coyote’s cheek, and bite marks riddled her shoulder. This beast was a fighter.

  She thumped onto the Rock with a snarl. Simmi and Tao cowered.

  My temples pounded, though I knew it was Jana.

  “To change back, you must reverse the shift,” growled the coyote. “I am the great coyote. I am changing. I am Jana.” With shivering gold and wisps of violet, the coyote spun into Jana’s true shape. The Elder Fox seemed tiny by comparison. It was hard to imagine that she had the power to switch her form so rapidly.

  My ears rolled forward. Could it really be that simple?

  Simmi was already trying the chant, shutting her eyes, her tail wrapped around her. “I am the fur that ruffles your back. I am the twist and shake of your tail …” She finished by saying the words: “I am Simmi. I am changing. I am the female coyote who came to the den.” We stared at her expectantly.

  Nothing happened.

  I shut my eyes and let my thoughts trip over the words of the chant.

  Let me appear in the shape of your body: no one can tell; others will fear; dare not come near!

  My eyes still shut, I added out loud: “I am Isla. I am changing. I am the fluffy white dog.”

  The secret is to believe —to really believe.

  I pictured the dog from the Great Snarl, his long, white muzzle, his curling tail. I imagined what it was like to walk at the end of a rope. I wondered how it felt to have a furless touch my back. A spasm ran through me, my hairs stood on end. I opened my eyes and I looked to my paws. They were broader, with neat, short claws.

  And they were white.

  Simmi hissed and backed away from me. From the edge of my vision, I saw the Elders watching. Siffrin’s ears were pricked.

  I yelped in excitement. Then my body convulsed with a clutching pain and I dropped to my belly. As the pain drained away, I saw my paws were small and dark. My brush extended and curled around me. The shift hadn’t held.

  “Practice,” said Jana, answering my question before I had asked it. “That is the only way.”

  Tao’s tail was wagging. “Let me try,” he implored.

  Shaya was strutting toward us. “Not now,” she snapped. “The sun is low. Malinta’s maa is vanishing.”

  I gazed beyond her, to the edge of the Rock. The amber fog was thinning into mist.

  “The shana cannot hold,” said Shaya. “It is time to go our separate ways.”

  The sky was growing dark.

  I wobbled on the frozen circle, at the edge of the cracking ice. Clumps of snow clung to my lashes. A thick pelt of white covered everything: the trees, the fence, the neighboring yard.

  Only the fox stood out against the snow.

  He craned his neck to stare at me. His fur was silvery but the long red hairs sprang out beneath it, vivid. Dangerous. His breath escaped his throat in misty plumes.

  “Pirie!” I yelped. “Pirie, where are you?”

  Water sluiced over the broken ice. It lapped at my forepaws, numbing them with its bite.

  “Pirie! What should I do?”

  “Your brother isn’t here.” The fox’s voice was husky.

  “He’s gone for help. He’ll be back any moment.” I tried to sound tough but my teeth chattered. A panel of ice snapped beneath my forepaws and I recoiled just in time to see it tip and slide beneath the dark water.

  There was another crack as the splinter leaped along the ice.

  “Cub, come closer.” The fox’s amber eyes were bright against the snow.

  “Keep away from me!” I hissed.

  “Come here, if you want to survive! I won’t hurt you …”

  He took a step toward the bank of the frozen pond. I spat at him, losing my balance. My paws flailed against the shifting ice. The water snatched at my forelegs, dragging me into its freezing embrace.

  “I’ll help you. Trust me.”

  I blinked the snow from my lashes and stared at the fox. I found no malice in his eyes. I let him reach over the ice and close his jaws around my neck. He lifted me gently, as though I was light as a leaf. He set me down on the frozen grass. Then I bolted under the fence to our patch without looking back.

  I should have looked back.

  As I tried to picture the Snowlands, the memory of the frozen pond returned to me. When I lived in the safety of my family, the fox in the snow was the first stranger I’d ever known. Now I felt destined to be around strangers forever. To always question who was an enemy and who was a friend.

  Twilight crept over the edges of the wood. We gathered by the roots of the blood-bark tree. Simmi and Tao were huddled together, speaking in low voices. The Elders sat in a row, their tails swaying rhythmically. Only long-legged Brin sat away from the others. He flickered in and out of view, as though slimmering absentmindedly. His gaze was fixed beyond the Rock.

  I couldn’t understand the change in him.

  Siffrin had hardly spoken since Jana silenced him on the Rock. Now he stood in the shadows, his tail drifting low.

  Simmi and Tao padded toward me.

  Tao’s bark-brown tail was wagging. “We’re going to the Free Lands. We’ll warn the skulks about the Mage, and teach them foxcraft, so they can protect themselves.” He batted at me with a forepaw, nipping me gently about the ears. “Won’t you come with us?” He pulled away and cocked his head. “It’s the only place in the Wildlands where a fox is safe.”

  “I can’t,” I said sadly. “My brother’s alive. I have to find him.”

 
Tao glanced at Simmi. “I understand. I know it’s far but … we’ll see you again.”

  I nuzzled his neck. “I hope so.”

  Simmi licked my nose. “We’ll practice wa’akkir on the way. Slimmering and karakking too. We’ll be experts soon enough.” She butted my shoulder with her forehead and shuffled closer. “Take care, Isla. If any fox can face the dangers of the Snowlands, it’s you. I hope you find your brother.”

  They said goodbye to the Elders, pausing to touch noses with Siffrin. My whiskers drooped as I watched the two young foxes slip between the trees. Simmi and Tao’s journey would lead them far along the Raging River, while mine would take me over it into unknown realms.

  Already, the two young foxes were concealed beyond winding foliage.

  At least they have each other.

  My thoughts were interrupted by Mika. “You too have a long path ahead of you.” I drew in a quivering breath and tugged my gaze away.

  “To a less hospitable domain,” added Shaya in her cool voice. “We will give you maa, to speed you on your quest.”

  I looked at her uncertainly.

  “Come closer,” she urged. I noticed that her tail-tip was pulsing silver—that all the Elders’ tails were full of light.

  I did as I was told, shuffling toward Shaya. The Elders gathered behind her as Siffrin looked on. I met her eyes and was struck by the heat of her golden stare. Instantly I was lost in color. I gasped as warmth and peace rushed through me. And something else.

  A blast of silver power.

  It was over as soon as it started. Shaya blinked and I stumbled, released from the snare of her gaze.

  My mind was awake. My legs were thrumming. I felt like I could run through the Wildlands and back, that I’d never need sleep again. Every hair on my body was tingling with heat, every muscle surging with energy.

  I had never felt so awake, so alive. “Thank you.”

  Shaya was already turning. “Use it wisely,” she urged over her shoulder. She stalked around the other Elders. As she passed Jana, her eyes flashed with light.

  Jana blinked mildly at the auburn vixen. “Until the gloaming,” she said.