Spirit of the Wolves

by Dorothy Hearst

  I took advantage of the distraction he’d caused to check on TaLi. The girl was standing on her tree stump, watching us carefully, her stone blade still clutched in her hand. She was safe, for now.

  Tlitoo eyed Kivdru and spread his wings.

  “Gruntwolves think they rule,

  But sometimes must be humbled.

  Ravens help with that.”

  Ravens often spoke in this strange way. I usually found it annoying, but when I saw Kivdru’s frustrated expression, I wanted to lick Tlitoo from beak to tail. For some reason I’d never understood, the Greatwolves were wary of ravens. Kivdru stepped back.

  “The youngwolf is correct,” Zorindru said, inclining his head toward Ázzuen. “There is not yet war between the wolves and humans here.” His tawny eyes met mine. “How do you plan to make sure it stays that way, Kaala?”

  “I’m going to find my mother—” I began.

  Milsindra interrupted. “Your mother who broke the rules of the Wide Valley by whelping you!” She glowered down at me, deliberately turning her back on Zorindru as anger seemed to overcome her fear of him. “This oldwolf and the fools who follow him believe that she has the answer to why wolves and humans cannot live side by side, and that her answer will allow us to fulfill the Promise. They believe that she will give this information only to you, her daughter, the drelshik. I think that humans will fight with us no matter what we do, and that you will only help them destroy us. The council, however, overruled me. They said you may leave the valley to find her.”

  Zorindru coughed softly.

  “It would appear that you are once again dissatisfied with my leadership, Milsindra, and the decisions the council makes under it,” the ancient Greatwolf said. “Do you wish to challenge me?”

  Milsindra swung her head to regard him for a long moment, then looked away, lowering her tail. Zorindru lifted his.

  “We will give her until Even Night to do so, Zorindru, that’s all,” Milsindra said.

  There were two Even Nights every year, when day was as long as night. The next one was less than a moon away.

  Milsindra raised her tail. “If she does not bring us an answer by then, we—and those who follow us—will take the Greatwolf council from you. We will kill the humans and the wolves who consort with them.” She dipped her head to Kivdru, and the two Greatwolves loped out of the clearing. Frandra and Jandru chased after them.

  My legs gave out from under me. Now that Milsindra was gone, I could admit to myself how terrified I’d been. Zorindru lowered his nose to mine.

  “Milsindra is under control for now, but not for long,” he said. “She is convinced that the only way to save wolfkind is to stop you. There are many on the council who are tempted to follow her, and I will not live forever. Find your mother, Kaala, and do so quickly. I can help fend off the humans—and Milsindra and Kivdru—until Even Night. After that, I can make no guarantees.” He dipped his head to me, and slipped into the woods.

  I released a long, relieved breath. TaLi exhaled at the same moment. She jumped down from her stump and ran to me. She threw her scrawny arms around my neck, and hugged me hard enough to make me grunt.

  Tlitoo gurgled impatiently. “Wolflet,” he quorked, “if you get into trouble every time I leave you, we will get nothing done. I cannot watch you as if you are newly fledged.” He regarded me with beady eyes, the ruff of feathers around his neck puffed up in annoyance. He spread his wings, revealing a white crescent of feathers on the underside of one of them. “You should not have returned to your old pack. You are not of them anymore.”

  “She had to try,” Ázzuen said.

  Tlitoo regarded him for a moment, then darted forward, grabbed Ázzuen’s ear, and yanked. When Ázzuen yelped and stumbled away, Tlitoo dove for his nose. He was about to attack Ázzuen’s tail when a pale gray wolf trotted into the clearing.

  Marra was Ázzuen’s littermate, a tall, fleet wolf who could outrun any prey in the valley. Her light gray fur was damp and muddy. A human boy ran up to stand beside her. He carried two of the preyskin bundles the humans called packs, one in his arms and one on his back, as well as two of the walking sticks some humans liked to use. His preyskin leg coverings were as damp as Marra’s fur. The two of them must have come from the river. The boy was breathing hard. He fell to his knees and began to wheeze. Marra liked nothing more than to run, and the slow pace of humans—even of the human she loved as much as I loved TaLi—frustrated her.

  “Are they coming?” she asked.

  “They are too cowardly,” Tlitoo answered. “They will hide here like mice in a burrow.”

  TaLi grabbed one of the packs MikLan had brought. Like us, TaLi had to leave the valley. Her grandmother had been training the girl to take over her role as krianan, or spiritual leader, of their village. The krianans were tasked with keeping the other humans in balance with the natural world, but many humans in the Wide Valley no longer listened to them. TaLi’s grandmother had made TaLi promise to reach the krianans outside the valley to tell them what was happening here. BreLan, the boy both TaLi and Ázzuen loved, was already there, waiting for her. Before I could get to my mother, I was determined to see TaLi safely there. I licked her hand, and tasted sweat and dirt.

  “Now can we go, wolflet?” Tlitoo quorked. “We do not have time to dawdle.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. We had less than a moon to find my mother and return to the Wide Valley with a way to fulfill the Promise. I tried not to think of what might happen to Rissa and the rest of Swift River in our absence. I couldn’t help them by staying in the Wide Valley.

  I took a deep breath. I was only ten moons old. For most of my life, older wolves had made decisions and led the way. That time was past. TaLi shifted her pack on her shoulders. Ázzuen and Marra watched me expectantly.

  I yipped once, and led my packmates from the aspen grove. We had no time to waste.

  2

  As we neared the banks of the river that marked the edge of Swift River lands, Ázzuen, Marra, and I kept the humans between us. The riverbank was exposed and a good place for an ambush. But the only one waiting for us there was a friend, a tall, broad-chested wolf with fur the color of summer grass.

  “So Ruuqo and Rissa wouldn’t come?” Pell didn’t bother to hide his disdain. He was larger than the wolves of Swift River and well-muscled. At nearly three years old, he was supposed to be the next leaderwolf of the Stone Peak pack, a rival to Swift River. Instead, he had chosen to come with us, though he had no fondness for humans. Marra said it was because he wanted me for his mate. I thought he just craved adventure, as many youngwolves did. I was glad to have such a strong wolf with us on our journey.

  “No,” I said. “They think the Greatwolves will protect them.”

  I told Pell and Marra what had happened with Milsindra in the aspen grove. I was afraid that Pell would say something contemptuous about my birthpack. He’d always thought them weak. Instead, he licked the top of my head and nipped me lightly on the ear.

  “You already knew that Milsindra wanted to kill you, Kaala,” he said. “We just have to get to your mother quickly.”

  Marra yipped in agreement and splashed into the river. Ázzuen and Pell charged in after her and began to paddle across. MikLan waded in until he was up to his chest, then swam.

  I looked at TaLi in concern. She couldn’t swim. She had grown taller since I’d found her clinging to a rock in the rain-swollen river and she’d crossed the river many times since. Still, it made me nervous every time she did so. She was tired and injured, weaker than I’d seen her in a long time. The river was as wide across as thirty wolves standing nose to tail, and fast-moving after the end of winter rains. I wished I was strong enough to carry her across.

  “I’ll be fine, Silvermoon,” she said.

  She stepped onto a rock in the river and then leapt to another. I swam as close to her as I could. To my relief, Ázzuen, who had reached the far side of the river, waded back in so that he was standing at the spot
right before it got too deep for a wolf of his size to do so. The water pulled at his chest, but he kept his footing. I remembered him as a smallpup, struggling the first time we crossed the river. He had been the weakest wolf in the Swift River pack. Now he stood as strong and steady as the most dominant youngwolf.

  When Pell saw Ázzuen standing in the river, he looked at me and then splashed in, too. TaLi was more than halfway across.

  “I don’t need your help,” Ázzuen said to him.

  Pell ignored him. He was taller than Ázzuen and could wade a full wolflength farther into the river. Ázzuen, trying to follow him, lost his footing and fell into the water.

  TaLi, watching them, fell, too, just before she reached a rock two leaps away from the riverbank. She splashed face-first into the water and, for a terrifying moment, disappeared. Ázzuen, Pell, and I all lunged for her. Right as Ázzuen and Pell reached her, she sat up in what I could now see was a shallow part of the river. Unable to halt their momentum, Pell and Ázzuen crashed into her and she almost went under again. She shoved both of them away, struggled to her feet, and staggered toward the riverbank. Ázzuen took the preyskin clothing the humans called a tunic in his jaws and tried to pull her to shore. She fell once more. Crawling on her hands and knees, she reached the riverbank just as Ázzuen and I did.

  “Please don’t help me across the river again,” she said to Ázzuen and Pell, wringing out the dried preyskins she wore as clothing. She was beginning to smell like wet deer.

  I pressed against TaLi to try to warm her, only to realize that my fur was as wet as her clothing.

  Adjusting her pack on her back, TaLi glared at all of us and stomped into the woods.

  It was darkfall when we reached the low hills that abutted the eastern mountains at the valley’s edge. While the humans built a small fire and laid out preyskins to sleep on, I ranged up the nearest hill. It would take the humans at least half the next day to climb it, and I wanted to see what awaited us. Ázzuen, Marra, and Pell explored other paths, looking for the best way up the hill. I soon found a trail that rose gently enough to make for easy walking. Faded scents of humans and the more recent aroma of deer told me who had used the path before us. The human scent was old enough that it didn’t concern me. Satisfied, I trotted back to our humans.

  They had allowed their fire to go out. I was glad. Smoke in the night would have made it easier for anyone—human or wolf—to track us. MikLan was curled up around both packs as if guarding them. I looked for TaLi next to him. She wasn’t there.

  I lowered my nose to track her, following her trail away from the embers of the humans’ fire to a birch grove nearby. Her scent was there, along with one I knew all too well.

  Churned earth and human footprints scrambled one upon the other beneath my paws. One of TaLi’s foot-coverings, her boots, as the humans called them, lay crumpled in the dirt. The human male DavRian’s scent of sweat and dream-sage was all over it. My lips pulled back from my teeth in a snarl as I barked sharply three times to call my packmates.

  DavRian had taken her. She was gone.

  I couldn’t believe I’d been so careless. I shouldn’t have left her unguarded. DavRian had stolen her once before, after striking her so hard she’d fallen unconscious. He was violent and dangerous and TaLi was alone with him. Panic weakened my legs. TaLi had blunt teeth and weak jaws and was almost as helpless as a pup. I forced myself to move on unsteady legs. I’d sooner place my own throat in Milsindra’s jaws than leave TaLi with DavRian.

  Deep in the birch forest, I heard a shout and then a scuffle. I ran toward the sound.

  DavRian had left a trail like a rampaging elkryn and I easily followed the broken branches and trampled earth he’d left behind. In a small clearing among the birches and spruce, I caught up with him, then slowed so I could approach unseen.

  DavRian knelt, gripping TaLi and clamping his hand over her mouth. I crouched down, forcing myself to control my fury at DavRian and my fear for TaLi and trying to think of the best attack. Then something in DavRian’s expression caught my attention. I expected to see anger or hatred in his face, but he looked down at TaLi with tenderness. DavRian had wanted TaLi enough to leave his own village to try to win her. He had been devastated when she’d chosen BreLan over him. I knew that a wolf without a pack could act strangely, could feel so alone in the world that he did foolish things, and DavRian was a lonely human. He was whispering something to TaLi, and it looked like he was telling her his deepest secrets. For a moment, I pitied him. I had been rejected by my pack when I was a smallpup and knew what it was like to be shunned by those I wanted most to care about me. Then I saw the bruises and cuts on TaLi’s face and the fear and fury in her eyes, and I snarled. DavRian was alone because he was malicious and weak, not the other way around. I watched him, trying to decide how to free TaLi from his grasp.

  He had set his sharpstick within grabbing distance. It was made of alder wood, and looked like a long, thin branch. Unlike an ordinary branch, it was almost completely straight and smooth. On the end of it was one of the stone blades that the humans could make as sharp as any fang. The humans called them spears and they were among their favorite hunting and fighting tools. At his waist DavRian had another blade, this one fastened to a smaller piece of wood. He must have thought I was foolish enough to run after him without making sure it was safe to do so. He’d told other humans over and over that we wolves were lesser creatures and that we were savage and stupid. It was my good luck that he actually believed it.

  Ázzuen padded up behind me. He touched his nose to my face. His familiar scent of Swift River Pack, moist earth, and juniper calmed me. I found myself wanting to return his touch by curling up beside him and letting our breath mingle in sleep. I shook myself, wondering how I could think of resting while TaLi was in trouble.

  “You know it’s a trap?” he whispered.

  I dipped my head in acknowledgment.

  “Like we hunted the aurochs,” he said, then circled around so he was crouching on the other side of the two humans, hidden by thick grouse bushes. DavRian was shifting uneasily from knee to knee, turning his head sharply back and forth as he waited for me. Ázzuen and I didn’t even have to look at each other. When we had killed an auroch—a huge, evil-tempered beast—just a few days before, we had brought it down by angering it and then pouncing. Considering DavRian’s disposition, Ázzuen must have figured it should work just as well with him.

  Ázzuen rustled the leaves of the bush where he hid. DavRian stood and, still clutching TaLi, whirled toward the sound. I stalked up behind the human and took the edge of his tunic in my teeth and pulled. He squealed like a forest pig and spun back around. TaLi stomped hard on his foot and drove her elbow into his stomach just as Ázzuen darted from his hiding place to jump at DavRian. DavRian released TaLi and dropped his sharpstick. TaLi fell to her hands and knees, snatched up DavRian’s sharpstick, and darted into the woods. Ázzuen butted DavRian once more and I slammed into the back of his legs, toppling him to the ground.

  Ázzuen bolted into the woods after TaLi, but I stood over DavRian. My anger drew my lips back from my teeth and made my fur stand up along my spine. Saliva dripped onto his chest. He had killed TaLi’s grandmother and would have killed me and all of my packmates. He’d hurt TaLi. And I knew he’d come after us; he’d try to steal TaLi from me again.

  Never kill a human unprovoked. It was one of the most important parts of the Promise. If wolves killed humans, then the humans would attack us more often than they already did, so we never harmed them unless it was in defense of our lives. Some creatures break promises as easily as a raven snaps a twig. We do not, for trust is everything in a wolf pack.

  I stepped away from DavRian.

  “Silvermoon!” TaLi called. “Come on!”

  I snarled one more time at DavRian and ran to find TaLi. I caught up with her as she loped, with Ázzuen at her side, through the woods and back toward the humans’ resting spot. When we reached MikLan, I fetched TaLi’
s foot-covering for her.

  MikLan scrambled to his feet.

  “What happened?” he demanded.

  “DavRian found us,” TaLi answered, taking the boot from me. I expected her to be frightened, but she just sounded determined. I nosed her hand, wondering if she was all right. She smiled down at me, her eyes fierce in the moonlight.

  “I knew he would,” she said, “so I let him take me.” She balanced on one foot and pulled on the boot. “When he asked where we were going, I lied. I told him we were going to the Rellin village in the southern hills.”

  It was a smart thing to do, and brave, but I hated it when TaLi took risks. I pawed her leg.

  She grinned. “By the time he figures out that’s not where I went, he won’t be able to follow our trail.” MikLan frowned at her. He was worried, too.

  “I do know what I’m doing,” she said to us. I had protected TaLi since the first day I met her, and I couldn’t help but think of her as a pup. But when I looked at the firm set of her jaw, I knew I could no more keep her from facing danger than I could keep Ázzuen or Marra from hunting vicious prey.

  She squatted next to the preyskin she had slept upon and began gathering the humans’ belongings into their packs.

  “Let’s move camp,” she said.

  I sat next to her as she worked, looking out beyond the clearing and listening for the sound of DavRian’s footsteps, guarding her as best I could against the darkness of the night.

  3

  The humans found a new sleeping place an hour’s walk away, between three tall rocks that would both shelter them from the rising wind and hide them from DavRian. I was glad, not for the first time, that humans had such weak noses. He wouldn’t be able to find us by scent.

  With the wind came the beginnings of a rainstorm. MikLan took a large rolled-up elkskin from his pack and TaLi took one from hers. The humans had found a way to keep the skins from decaying and to make them as supple and strong as if they were still on a living beast. They unrolled the skins, then shoved their walking sticks into holes they dug in the soft dirt. Ázzuen watched, his ears pricked in interest. The humans and their tools held an endless fascination for him. TaLi and MikLan used their clever hands to secure the skins to the walking sticks, then tied the two together with strips of dried deerskin woven with reeds to form a small shelter. Ázzuen sniffed along the bottom of it. Tlitoo followed behind him, quorking deep in his throat. When the humans turned away, he pecked hard at the bottom of one of the walking sticks so that the skins fell down around Ázzuen. Tlitoo cackled.