The trail climbed gradually through the endless marches of pine, spruce and aspen, and the sky grew dim with the approach of evening. The forest showed new signs of sickness: clusters of disease-blotched trees and then a small brook that had dried up, becoming a stagnant nest for flies. Soon, birdsong was all but gone from the air.
Alice heard a distant howl and Storm paused to return the call. There were wolves throughout the great forest, lone hunters and packs. Storm was set apart from her kind but, unlike Alice among the villagers, she had retained their respect.
It was almost twilight when they emerged from the trees and followed the path up a steep embankment into a broad vale of unhealthy, yellowing grass. Two hundred paces away the tree line resumed, rising sharply towards a pass between two jagged mountain peaks. These northern passes marked the very edge of Meridina, the cold, craggy border between the living world and the Darklands.
From the vale a vast stretch of the Northern Range was visible. Alice looked west, picking out the ruins of forts and castles in the foothills. Now abandoned, they had been built during Queen Amina’s reign, when war had raged against the seemingly unstoppable Narlaw. But the queen had banished them, bringing peace to Meridina for more than a hundred years.
And if the Narlaw had returned?
What then?
Alice breathed the cool mountain air into her lungs. Responsibility would fall on her shoulders. She would be called upon to fight, along with all the other Whisperers of Meridina. During the Narlaw Wars, Queen Amina had built an army of Whisperers, hundreds of them banded together against the Narlaw. But how many were there now? Alice had only ever met one other, and that was Moraine. The rest were scattered, unknown to each other; many would be young and inexperienced like her. Alice’s training was only half complete. She knew that she could recognize a Narlaw if she came across one – all Whisperers were born with this talent; but to perform the act of banishment was far beyond her. Moraine said she was too impulsive, that she didn’t take the meditative ways of the Whisperers seriously, too eager to excel in combat and stealth and to become a wolf of the forest like her companion.
Alice was proud of her eagerness to act. The trouble was, she knew almost nothing of the Narlaw – no one did, it had been so long ago. So what if this was a huge mistake? She was twelve years old, a novice. How could she possibly face the demons from over the mountain?
Some fifty paces away she spotted Storm, tall and rigid, beckoning her. Alice forced all of these doubts to the back of her mind, setting out at a flat run. As she neared, Storm turned and sped towards the tree line.
In the pines, said Storm.
When they reached the trees there were signs of struggle everywhere: snapped branches, flattened undergrowth, footprints all over the track. Alice skirted the edge of the scene with her heart pounding. She dropped to her knees and scoured the earth for a clue to what had happened to the hunters.
The tracks don’t lead anywhere, she said.
Demons, said Storm. The Narlaw leave no trace. They are not animals, not living things like wolves or humankind. They breathe no air, leave no tracks, build no homes. They exist only to destroy.
Alice tried not to let her fear show, though the bond would carry it to Storm regardless.
The scent is strong, said Storm, turning uphill towards the mountain pass. We will find them.
Alice ran to Storm’s side. Let’s go, she said.
The forest changed as they climbed towards the shoulder of the mountain. The undergrowth thinned, rocks appeared between the pines and the trees themselves became thinner, slanted and crooked. The sickness had spread to almost every tree here. Alice breathed heavily, barely keeping pace with Storm, who didn’t seem tired at all.
Then Storm stopped abruptly beside a jutting outcrop of rock.
Do you feel it? she asked.
Alice reached out with her Whisperer sense. There was a strange presence in the trees. It rushed towards her, taking on a sickening intensity, as if the air itself was tainted by a skin of oil. Alice drew back, alarmed and afraid.
The demons are close, said Storm.
How close? Alice whispered.
They had climbed all this way to find evidence of Narlaw in the forest, and now here they were in the failing light, on the verge of seeing the demons with their own eyes.
Storm did not answer, instead she crept silently past the rocks. Alice followed. The slow creak of the trees was the only sound. Shadows crowded everywhere, twisting as the trees swayed gently.
Then Storm stopped in her tracks, one paw raised above the ground.
We should go, she said.
Alice stopped beside her. Ahead, on a stretch of level forest, were several large boulders. Around the boulders Alice glimpsed five or six figures. There was no fire, no movement and no talk between the figures. A foul smell drifted on the air. Alice recognized the silhouettes of the hunting party. She edged forwards, but was stopped by a sharp pulse of warning through the bond.
No, said Storm. We have to get back to the village.
But it’s them, Alice whispered. They need our help.
But even as she spoke she realized that these were not the hunters, and that she and Storm had gone too far.
The figures moved between the boulders and Alice felt the demon taint return, creeping over her, polluting her senses. She stared, chest frozen with fear, as the hunters turned towards her slowly. Their eyes opened to reveal a sickly grey glow.
Go! Storm snapped. Warn the elders!
What about you? Alice hissed.
I’ll lead them away, but you must get to the village!
Then Storm stepped forwards and howled, a long, soul-shivering cry that was answered, seconds later, by one and then two and then a whole chorus of howls from near and far. The wolf packs were coming to her aid.
Alice didn’t want to run, she wanted to stay and fight, but there were six Narlaw and just two of them.
She pressed a hand to Storm’s side, then broke off and sprinted downhill as Storm charged in the opposite direction. Alice felt the distance grow between them, felt the night close in around her. And over everything, spreading like a blot of ink in water, she felt the Narlaw seeking her out, coming for her down the hillside.
CHAPTER 3
The trees loomed like phantoms as Alice ran. Her boots slid on the litter of pine needles, caught on the roots of trees. Her heart hammered and the forest hissed and creaked and howled around her.
Alice stumbled and skidded down the steep path they had climbed just minutes ago. She listened for sounds of pursuit but heard only chaos in amongst the trees as the wolves and the Narlaw tore in all directions through the night.
A howl went up nearby and Alice ducked behind a crooked pine. A low shape flashed through the undergrowth – a wolf. Next came a blur of limbs, moving faster than anything Alice had ever seen. Both creatures were out of sight in an instant.
Alice stood and resumed her charge downhill, hoping that the wolves could outrun the Narlaw, that Storm was not in trouble.
She tripped and fell, scrambled up and kept running. Dusky light reached through the trees and she stopped, breathing heavily, at the edge of the grassy vale. Scraps of cloud flew across the sky and the yellowed grass of the vale shone like copper in the half light. Straight across was the quickest way. Alice scanned the vale and was about to run when she caught the slightest movement off to her left: a figure, twenty paces away along the tree line, watching the open ground, waiting. Alice crept back into deeper cover. The figure was tall – a man – and stood with the impossible stillness she had witnessed in the Narlaw camp. This was one of them, a creature she had read about and feared all her life – and it was hunting.
Alice moved slowly along the tree line and away from the watcher. She didn’t dare remove her gaze from him, placing her boots in the undergrowth with tortuous precision. Then a howl split the sky elsewhere in the woods. The figure shifted. In a movement that was swift and horrifying, the
Narlaw sped across the vale and was gone.
It took a huge effort for Alice to calm her breathing. What would a demon like that do to a wolf if it caught one? What would it do to Storm? Or her? All Alice had to go on were the stories passed down through generations and, according to the histories, these demons had been fought and beaten by the armies of Meridina, by the great Whisperer, Queen Amina. But it seemed the true horror of the Narlaw had been lost in the retelling – their silence and their eerie stillness, followed by such frightening bursts of speed.
Alice peered out into the vale, then back into the pitch black of the forest. She had to get home. No matter what Moraine had thought before, she would have to believe Alice now she had seen the Narlaw with her own eyes. If they didn’t warn the villagers then everything the wolves had done for her would have been in vain. She had to be there when Storm returned, too. So Alice placed one foot in front of the other, quickening each time, until once again she was running through the ghostly forest towards home.
The mountainside was broad and the wolves had done their job well. Their cries became distant and infrequent. Alice hoped that meant they had succeeded in drawing the Narlaw away, losing the demons in the deep forest. The alternative was not worth considering.
She reached a familiar part of the forest and paused to catch her breath above a shallow gully that she and Storm had crossed a thousand times before. The sound of her breathing merged with the wind in the treetops. Alice watched and listened. She was almost home, but she could not afford to be careless now.
Somewhere a branch fell and cracked. Had it been blown by the wind, or dislodged by something else? A large bird took to the air nearby, given away only by the beating of its wings. Alice listened, reaching out with her Whisperer sense. She felt a presence; not the bird, but a wolf in the gully: a strange wolf – not Storm. She made her breathing quiet and stayed utterly still until she saw the wolf’s shadow creeping, wary and exhausted, down the gully. If she stayed where she was it would pass by without seeing her, but part of her wanted to call out, to make the rest of the journey home with at least this unknown wolf for company. But to give herself away would not be wise. She stayed quiet and hidden.
As the wolf passed by in the gully, Alice felt another presence suddenly emerge, sickening and swift. She gasped as a shadow dropped from nowhere and a furious, howling battle commenced. Wolf and Narlaw grappled. The snarling and gnashing of teeth destroyed the silence of the forest. Alice stayed low, ready to run for her life as the two shadows rolled and twisted below her.
Then all was still. The wolf’s cries receded in one eerie final echo. The Narlaw stood, one hand on the wolf’s limp body. It seemed as if the wolf was breathing, but Alice couldn’t be sure.
She had to go. The demon would see her any time now, surely. But what happened next kept Alice rooted to the spot.
The Narlaw – its human silhouette – slowly dropped on to its hands and knees. Its body thickened; the shadowy head enlarged and stretched and when it moved again the silhouette was pure wolf. Alice didn’t dare to even breathe. The shape-shifter raised its head and sniffed the air. A wolf’s nose would detect her easily. She got ready to run, backing away from the gully into more open ground. It had to be now. If she was lucky she may just make it home before the wolf-demon caught her.
And if she was unlucky?
It wasn’t worth thinking about. She had to get home. That was all.
Alice rose to her feet. She stepped backwards, keeping the Narlaw-wolf in sight.
Then a hand slipped roughly over her mouth and she was dragged backwards. She kicked out uselessly. There was a rhythmic whispering inside her head, strange words chanted silently that made her legs feel suddenly heavy, as if they were attached to the forest floor, as inanimate as tree stumps. Alice recognized the words of the stealth wish. She glanced up and saw the tufted outline of a tawny owl on a branch above.
Hazel.
“Hush, dear,” Moraine whispered. “The forest will hide us.” The incantation didn’t falter as she spoke.
Alice allowed herself to be carried away, Hazel deftly swooping from branch to branch above them. They retreated from the gully and the Narlaw did not follow. They were invisible, a part of the forest.
Only when they reached the cottage did Alice feel the weight of the stealth wish rise from her body. She had performed that wish on herself before, but had never been the subject of someone else using it on her. Her body didn’t feel her own. She stumbled through the door and would have fallen had Moraine not held her.
“Storm,” Alice muttered. “She’s still out there.”
“I know, dear.”
Moraine sat her beside the fire, where the embers flickered grey and red. Moraine looked tired, drained by the effort of their escape. It took skill and strength to commune with the forest, to ask its help and become one with the earth.
“It put the wolf to sleep,” said Alice. “I saw it change shape…”
Moraine nodded. “The cottage is protected. We must wait until morning and then warn the village elders.” She paused, rubbing her eyes. For an instant she looked lost, as if she still couldn’t believe what she had seen. “You were right about the Narlaw, and I am sorry that I doubted you. But you shouldn’t have gone into the forest like that. Anything might have happened.”
“Storm and the wolves,” said Alice. “They drew the demons away. We need to help them.”
Moraine shook her head. “It’s far too dangerous, now. Storm will know what to do.”
Alice wanted to get up, to run back into the forest and not stop until she had her companion beside her again. She couldn’t stand being separated from Storm, not knowing if she was scared or hurt. But Alice had been lucky to get home and even she knew that to set out again would be madness. So she perched on the chair by the dying fire and reached out through the stone walls of the cottage, out into the thick shadows of the forest, feeling desperately for Storm and hoping that her friend would return to her soon.
CHAPTER 4
The morning bell tolled slowly in the central courtyard of the Palace of the Sun, signalling the end of the night watch and the changing of the palace guard. Soon the city of Meridar would wake and the palace would be full of noise and colour, its residents rising to their daily duties.
Dawn, however, had already been awake for two hours.
Her head ached from reading by candlelight, poring through the ancient books that Esther had left her: books about healing, folklore and the secrets of the Whisperer sisterhood, scrolls of ancient historical events and the war diaries of Queen Amina.
These war diaries in particular made for disturbing reading. No one knew where the Narlaw had come from, only that they were not of this world. They had crept into Meridina’s borderlands some hundred years ago, targeting each isolated town and village, sinking the entire population of these towns into the ghost-sleep so that no one could flee or warn their neighbours of the invasion. And the Narlaw themselves: lightning fast and as strong as three people. They had overwhelmed Meridina with their vast numbers and fought their way to the palace gates.
A long time had passed since the Narlaw Wars. Queen Amina had banished the demons to the Darklands, but it remained a vital duty of all Whisperers to protect the realm from these Narlaw that had arrived in Meridina like a curse from some other world.
Dawn extinguished the candles on her desk and rubbed her tired eyes. There was so much to learn. If only Esther were still with her to guide her, to help her decipher the arcane language and separate fact from mythology. But Esther had died last winter from the long illness that had plagued her old age, and now Dawn was the Palace Whisperer, the youngest Meridina had ever known. It still felt like madness, looking around at these lavish rooms. She was the foremost Whisperer in Meridina and advisor to King Eneron, a king who was old and frail and unwilling to face up to his royal duties.
Dawn crossed the room to the balcony, where rosy morning light made the city and the palac
e grounds glow. Here, looking out from the ornate Spiral Tower, she felt as free as she ever did these days. Only here did the weight of her responsibilities begin to lighten. She pretended she was far from the palace, back home in the Southlands, before her Whisperer bond had been confirmed, before they had come and removed her from her beloved, sand-coloured hills and brought her here to be submerged in palace life.
A dark shape flashed in the air nearby and a loud, throaty caw echoed over the courtyards and ornamental gardens.
Where have you been? Dawn whispered, smiling. Are you up early or out late?
A pair of tremendous black wings batted the air at the end of the balcony as Ebony, Dawn’s raven companion, lighted on the balustrade.
Never ask a raven where she goes at night, Ebony replied. You may not like the answer. She stretched and then tucked her wings away, cocking her head in amusement. All is quiet in the palace. Nothing urgent to report.
And Princess Ona?
Ebony hopped along the balustrade, peering into the anteroom at the cluttered desk. Ona’s fine. There’s a new addition to that dizzy-headed court of hers. The son of a wealthy merchant. The princess has taken a liking to him, I think, and, as always, she is blissfully unaware of the mess her father is making of her future kingdom.
Dawn nodded. Princess Ona was the sole heir to the throne of Meridina, but King Eneron refused to involve her in state affairs. In fact, he had expressly banned Dawn or any other court official from entering the princess’s chambers. If things continued in this way, Ona would inherit the kingdom without the faintest idea how to rule. And in the meantime, the king piled more and more duties on to Dawn’s inexperienced shoulders.
In the courtyard below, the palace servants were beginning to emerge, reminding Dawn that she would shortly be due at the morning council. She hurried back inside.
I wonder what our dear friend the warden has in store for us this morning, Ebony mused as she flew inside and perched between the carved figurines on the marble mantelpiece.
A Whisper of Wolves Page 2
