by Brandon Mull
And so Katalin had been harvesting crops with her family when the smell of smoke came creeping over the fields. They’d assumed that someone had been careless — brought a candle into a barn, left a hearth fire going without supervision. . . . All the workers had gone sprinting back into town to help. Fire was a terror, but one they knew. But when they reached town, armed only with buckets, there was more than fire. Wreathed in the smoke were men with swords, men whose mission was to slash and burn and reduce the town to nothing but a charred scar on the earth.
Her dream usually ended there, the shock of discovery shaking her awake. But last night the moment had been prolonged, haunted by howls of despair, full-throated cries of mourning. She thought she’d heard her father’s voice, open and bare in a sound she had never heard from him before that day —
But something had awakened her. Had it been something real or imagined? A sound from the physical world or a cry from her nightmares? She crouched warily, squinting into the morning sunlight. Had the Conquerors found her again? But there was none of the hush that came when someone had startled the birds away, and her gut told her that they were not nearby. She relaxed and leaned back onto her bedroll, smoothing her sleep-rumpled hair back into a tight braid.
Her dreams were getting stronger. She’d been having these nightmares ever since her town was destroyed, but now the dreams were becoming more vivid, more realistic, the closer she got to Briggan. Adelle had told her that all the Great Beasts had special powers, and that Briggan — as well as being a pack leader — was often able to help enhance the senses. People even claimed that Briggan could bring visions. Glimpses of the future.
Well, that’s not what she was getting, Katalin thought crankily. She’d welcome some vision of the future, some hint of what to expect. But she was being pushed further into her past.
Trying to shake off the lingering feelings from the dream, she looked around, getting her bearings. Her map was soggy, but she’d basically memorized it anyway. The river had deposited her at the base of a small foothill. Beyond that to the north was a flat plain, and then the Granite Hills where Briggan and his pack were believed to make their home.
Katalin decided there was no reason to delay any longer. Right now the Conquerers thought she was just a confused Marked girl who had stupidly stumbled into their path. They wanted to hunt her down, but wouldn’t spend long dwelling on her now that she’d lost them. But if they caught on to her mission — to the fact that she’d been sent to find Briggan — they would never let her survive. With Tero as a curled tattoo on her arm, she started hiking north, her boots squelching.
Lost in her thoughts, the time passed quickly. At midday Katalin paused. She had made it over the heavily wooded hill and now her feet were sore. With the sun high and hot in the sky, it seemed like a good time to set up camp and allow her things to finish drying out. She could eat and rest, then she could keep moving again later under the cover of dusk.
She found a small, sunny clearing with room to pitch her tent. Tero sprang from her arm as she bent over to hammer the pegs into the soft earth. She gave him a stern glare that she knew would be lost on him.
“Oh, it’s just like you to go passive when there are miles of tough terrain to hike, and to jump out right in time for some playing around.” Tero twined his sleek body around her ankles apologetically. “Yeah, right. I’m sure you feel real bad.”
There was a scampering noise in the trees, and a second later Tero was gone, a dark blur in the dappled shade, darting after whatever squirrel or bird had caught his attention.
“Thanks a lot!” Katalin called after him. “Great teamwork!” Sometimes it did bother her that her spirit animal was so fiercely independent.
She finished pitching the tent, then slung the waterproof food bag over a tree branch and hauled it up out of reach of any interested animals. She spread her clothing and other supplies out to dry. All that done, she pulled a twist of beef jerky out of her pocket and sat happily chewing on it, enjoying the sunshine and listening to the sounds of the forest around her. She could almost believe that the rest of the mission would be smooth sailing from here.
A moment before she heard it, she felt it, like a cold trail of ice water down her spine. Then the sound opened up and enveloped the sky. It was a lonely howl, one blast that froze her blood and sent goose bumps prickling across her skin. There was a long pause, and then the call was answered once, twice, three times. The hills rang with the sound of the wolf cries.
Immediately, Tero was beside her again, the fur on his back standing up in alarm. Katalin’s heart melted at the sight of the tiny mink ready to take on a pack of wolves.
This must be the Great Pack. They were powerful and potentially dangerous, but there was no way to avoid them, not when her aim was to go even deeper into the heart of their territory, to Briggan.
The howls were clearly warnings, though — aimed right at Katalin. Stay away, they said. Turn back.
Briggan knew she was here.
After resting, Katalin packed her bag and continued her journey. Her path took her meandering downhill for a few hours. As she walked, the sun began setting in the west, lighting up the trees with an orange glow. It was beautiful, but the light reminded Katalin of the flames in her town. . . . She snapped her head back to the present. The valley was opening up below her. This was Briggan’s valley. The land was ruled by a wolf — the wolf — and his Great Pack. Based on the howls she was now hearing frequently, the wolves roamed freely over this valley and the Granite Hills above.
She could see that the closest part of the valley was already in the shadow of the hill, but the far edge was still shining in the sun. Colorful jays darted around, snatching berries and singingly joyfully.
Then she caught sight of something — a small hut.
Katalin hadn’t known that anyone lived out here in the northern woods. There were certainly no large cities, not even any towns that she knew of. But she supposed she shouldn’t be too surprised that there would be people scattered around, maybe a farmer or a shepherd who liked the solitude.
It felt like it had been forever since she’d talked to another person. Being attacked by a Conqueror didn’t seem like it counted as real human interaction. She turned toward the house. She’d check it out, see if there was anyone there who could shelter her for the night, maybe even give her some tips on approaching Briggan. She’d have to be careful, of course. It was unlikely that someone living alone in Eura would be a friend to the Conquerors, so that didn’t worry her. But there were many other forms that a foe could take.
Tero nipped at her shoe, clearly trying to tell her something. She watched as he scampered ahead, ran back, and scampered ahead again. He was watching her eagerly. He reminded her of an arrow strung taut on a bow, ready to speed off the second he was released. She knew exactly what he wanted.
“Okay,” she said cautiously. “Go scout it out and let me know if it looks safe.” He perked his head up. Before he could spring away she called, “But, Tero — take a look and then come right back. No fooling around.” She gave him her sternest look, but the invisible leash had been severed — he was already shooting across the valley toward the hut.
Katalin crept slowly along the edge of the valley, closer but still out of sight. When she felt she was near enough, she sat down with her back against a tree to wait for Tero.
She waited . . . and waited. The sun disappeared behind the hills, and the entire valley was sunk into shadow. She squinted into the dusk, worried. He was supposed to get the lay of the land, then come fetch her or let her know to stay away. So where was he? Had he gotten into trouble? She pictured a maniac shoving Tero in a pot and making mink stew.
After waiting another few minutes, Katalin decided she had to go investigate, no matter what dangers might be in store.
She crept forward, trying to stay hidden in the shadows. The hut was just up ahead, an
d now she could see that there were a few chickens in a fenced-in yard outside. Tiptoeing even closer, she listened closely but couldn’t make out anything besides the quiet clucks of the chickens.
Without Tero, she had trouble feeling the bold courage that she needed to face whoever lived here. She needed him to feed her with his playful curiosity and to warm her with his soft fur and little nudges. Otherwise, she felt very, very alone. Without her spirit animal, she felt like the girl she was before she’d received her mark, before she’d been welcomed into the resistance. A girl without a home, without a family — without anything except for a fear that took up so much of the space inside her that sometimes she forgot there was anything else.
But now Tero was probably somewhere in this house, maybe needing her, and so she had to summon her own courage, which may or may not exist, from someplace inside.
She gripped her small knife tightly in her fist and crawled over the hard-packed dirt yard to the window of the hut. Trying not to make a sound, she peered up over the windowsill.
In the warm light of the flickering fire, she saw someone bent over, pinning Tero to the ground.
In the second that it took her to jump up and shout “Hey!” in her most intimidating voice, she’d realized that the person was an old woman . . . and she was giving Tero a belly rub.
The mink was lying on his back, totally relaxed. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, while the old woman scratched his belly just the way he liked it. Katalin’s first reaction was relief — her second, rage at her tiny betrayer.
Tero’s bright eyes flicked up and caught sight of her. An apologetic look spread across his face. The old woman followed his gaze and smiled up at Katalin.
“You must be this little fellow’s companion, hey? Well, come inside already.” Katalin could hear the woman’s voice through the glass pane. She reluctantly brushed the dirt off her knees, hauled her pack onto her shoulder, and walked around to the front of the house.
As she let herself in, the woman pushed creakily to her feet and welcomed Katalin with a warm embrace. She had short, curly gray hair and smelled like cinnamon. This was not the dangerous enemy Katalin had been anticipating.
“I’m Milena, welcome,” she said. “Can I get you some soup? I don’t have much food prepared — I don’t eat all that much anymore — but I have some good soup here.”
“No, thank you. I’m fine —” Katalin began, but the woman barely stopped to listen.
“Good, good. Let me get that soup heated up and then you’ll have something filling to eat. Looks like you could use a real meal.”
“I —”
“And this is your spirit animal, I take it? Don’t worry, no need to be secretive with me. And anyway, I knew you were coming.” She winked at Katalin.
Meanwhile, Tero was nudging her ankle impatiently, wanting to be forgiven. Katalin pushed him away with the side of her foot, not quite ready to give up her grudge. She’d been so frightened for him, and for no reason at all!
“You’re looking for Briggan?” Milena asked suddenly. She stopped stirring the soup that she’d poured into a big pot, and looked carefully at Katalin.
“That’s right. How did you know?”
“Yes, you’re looking for the Great Wolf. Everything about you is seeking, seeking . . . ” Milena popped a finger out of her mouth and licked her lips. “Soup’s ready!”
She pushed Katalin into a chair and slid an enormous bowl in front of her. “You eat, I’ll explain.”
As Katalin spooned the fragrant liquid into her mouth, Tero slunk into her lap and curled up. She didn’t acknowledge him — but she didn’t push him off either.
“You might think I like to talk, but I run out of words quickly. It’s just that I haven’t seen anyone in a long while, so I have a lot stored up at the moment. I came out here to get away from people. . . . I like the quiet, like being on my own . . . but what I didn’t expect was the power that Briggan would have on me. I’m sure you’ve heard that he can bring visions to those around him?”
Katalin didn’t even try to respond, just nodded.
“Well, it’s true. Probably more than the rumors would even suggest. Briggan can sharpen the senses. He can give people visions, or insight in their dreams. After I lived here for a while, I tried going back into the world. But I saw too much. It wasn’t possible for me to walk around, pretending I couldn’t see what was coming — it would be as though you tried to deny one of your own five senses. People thought I was crazy too. The visions of the future that he brings are not fixed — they can be changed — but no one would listen to me, no one would let me help them. So I had to leave. Had to come back here.”
The woman put her wrinkled hand on Katalin’s arm. “I’m sure you’ve felt something in you change as you came closer to the Granite Hills. Don’t be afraid. There’s a reason that you’re seeing whatever you’re seeing. Even a peek into the past can be a vision of the future, waiting for you to sort it out.”
Milena seemed to run out of words after that, caught up in something inside her own head. But she made a heaping pile of blankets so that Katalin and Tero could spend the night comfortably. Once they were snuggled together, the old woman stood over them and scattered some fragrant bunches of lavender over and around their bed.
“This will help soothe your sleep,” she said. “One night’s peace from the dreaming is all I can offer. After that, you’ll have to sort through your memories, same as the rest of us.”
Katalin couldn’t remember ever having a better night’s sleep.
The next morning, after their good-byes, Katalin and Tero left the hut and the valley behind and set off on another hard day’s hike. This one was mostly uphill, taking them into the edge of the Granite Hills. The terrain grew tougher and the trees began to thin out.
While Adelle had not been able to tell Katalin exactly where Briggan would be, Milena had given her very specific directions. The Great Wolf made the highest hill his base, though there was no guarantee he would be there at any given time.
Milena had also handed the girl a small pouch, packed to the brim with sharp-smelling rosemary. “It’s for the memory,” the old woman had said, rubbing some of the leaves between her fingers to release the pungent smell.
Now Katalin headed uphill, hoping for the best, but after a whole day of walking, keeping her eyes peeled for giant paw prints, she hadn’t spotted any sign of the Great Wolf. The wolf calls — both barks and howls now — were more frequent. They sounded closer than ever, though the animals kept themselves hidden from her.
That night, after making camp, Katalin opened the bag of rosemary and inhaled the fresh evergreen scent. She didn’t quite understand what Milena had meant about memory, but the smell did remind her of happier times. Of meals cooked at home. She fell asleep early and slept deeply that night.
And she had another dream.
Katalin was with her best friend, Lizabeth. It was the Spring Festival, Katalin’s favorite holiday. They were holding hands and running through the town, happily taking in all the excitement and decorations. Everywhere, giant blue flags with Briggan’s symbol were flying, waving proudly in the wind.
It was local tradition to make strings of popcorn and dip them in sugar or chocolate or butter, and then hang them from the doorways. The treat symbolized birth, the emergence of something sweet from its hard winter shell. And it was tasty too. All the town’s children were out, jumping for the dangling strings.
Katalin and Lizabeth ran from doorway to doorway, snacking as they went, and sneaking looks through the windows into the homes, to see who had the biggest feast prepared. There were huge roast turkeys, trays of baked apples, bowls of fresh spring greens and edible flowers. . . .
When Katalin turned back to look at her friend, she saw that Lizabeth had managed to get chocolate all over her face, and Katalin burst into laughter.
But
as they ran, the breeze grew from a light touch to something stronger, a howling wind. Katalin didn’t notice at first — she was caught up with laughing and teasing her friend — but then Lizabeth pulled at Katalin’s arm. Her eyes were big and afraid, and Katalin stopped abruptly. Suddenly all she could hear was the howling wind.
It tore down the flags and ripped the leaves off the trees. The howling grew and grew, swallowing the town —
Katalin snapped awake.
The dream had felt completely real.
The dreams always felt real. Each time, for a moment, she believed she was home. Then something came and tore it away from her, and she remembered who she was now: a girl with no home, no family, no best friend. Just a growling belly and an important mission. Katalin thought back to what Milena had said — that Briggan brought insight to dreams. That even a dream of the past could be a vision of the future. Great — did that mean that her future held as much destruction as her past?
She sat up and stuck her head outside her tent. And took in the total destruction that had come to her campsite while she slept.
Katalin gasped aloud. It had been utterly ransacked. The bags she’d left on the ground had been torn open, their contents scattered around the clearing in shreds. Her food bags, which she’d hung carefully from tree branches as always, were ripped open. Most of the food was gone, though she could see some scraps on the ground, covered in dirt. Animal prints wove through the destruction.
She glared down at her tattoo; of course Tero had been in his passive state just when she could have used his watchful eyes on her campsite.
It dawned on Katalin that she herself was unharmed. Her tent was untouched, and so was a circle of dirt about three feet in diameter all around it. There was something very deliberate about the damage — this was not just some hungry raccoon.
She leaped into a crouch and scanned the edges of the clearing.
