The Mage

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The Mage Page 12

by Inbali Iserles

“We don’t have time for your doubts,” he snipped, as though reading my thoughts. “I won’t take much. We need you strong. Just enough to get by … Look at me.”

  I turned to the Black Fox. His green eyes sparkled with light. I started to chant: “With my touch, I sense you; with my eyes, I heal you. By Canista’s Lights, I share what I have, we are knit together and you are whole.”

  With a lurch I was tugged into his gaze. I tumbled into iridescent green. The earth gaped, a sheer drop into darkness. I fell, legs thrashing. Wind lashed at my fur. My tail flicked up behind me. I landed on a bed of moss. Green light whirled over my head. I looked around wildly: I was in the Elder Wood. The ancient trees crowded in, their branches thick with leaves. Birds warbled, warmth touched my whiskers. I was running beside a brook. The thick trunks gave way to slender fruit trees. Brambles trellised between them and dapples of green-and-white ivy. Power flexed through my limbs. A sharp smell caught my nose. Up ahead I saw flames rising over the trees. Smoke billowed, the crackle of splintering wood. I ran toward it, knowing no fear. Air filled my chest. I sped over the mulchy ground, fast, faster, almost flying—

  Métis blinked.

  I slumped onto the snow. I waited for exhaustion to wash over me, as it had after maa-sharm with Siffrin.

  I felt fine. Just the same. If anything, a shimmer of maa flickered at my tail-tip. I rolled onto my paws with a shake.

  Métis was examining his paws. He raised each in turn, nibbling at his claws. Then he swept his tail close with a sniff.

  I tapped my paw impatiently. “Aren’t we going? You saw what they were doing to Farraclaw.” The hairs shivered along my back. What if he refused? Métis looked up. His shrewd eyes were sharper now. “Very well.” His gaze trailed to the tip of my tail. “You are not without maa. Perhaps I underestimated you.” His voice was not conciliatory. “We will need it for what you must do. I will lead you to the entrance of the Ice Palace. From there, you will be on your own. I will not have the energy to help—I would only hinder you and risk your capture.”

  Panic rose inside me. “But how can I free Farraclaw alone?”

  “You can slimmer, can’t you?”

  “Farraclaw can’t,” I replied. “Even if I reached the dungeon without being seen, how would I get him out?”

  Métis padded around the boulders, onto the open tundra. The sun was already high overhead. I pictured Lop storming through the snow. Would he make it past the watch parties? Would he reach the Bishar in time?

  “Come, Isla,” said the Black Fox. “I have made you a promise and I do not intend to break it. Let us hurry to the Ice Palace. I’ll explain on the way.”

  * * *

  The journey was painfully slow. Even with my maa, Métis struggled. We kept to the shadows beneath patches of tree cover, keen to conceal our stark coats from watchful eyes. Métis stopped frequently. While he rested, I managed to catch another hare. Métis picked at the kill without enthusiasm. In the end, I finished most of the meal myself.

  It was twilight by the time we reached a swathe of pines at the outskirts of the Ice Palace. I could see it rising from billows of mist on a glistening shaft of rock.

  “It’s a glacier,” said Métis. “A mass of ice.”

  “Doesn’t it melt in the heat?”

  His green gaze told me I was foolish. “Heat never arrives this far north.”

  As we crept closer between the pine trees, steam rose from the earth. A stream ran around the base of the glacier, spewing scorching water. Narrow paths cut between the stream, and along these stalked white wolves.

  Métis raised his muzzle. “You will need to slip past the guards to reach the dungeons. Feel your way.”

  I glanced at him. I had no idea how to do that.

  “I will wait here,” Métis went on. “You must find me. I will need you for the journey home. Remember your promise.” One black ear twisted forward. “I can help you get the wolf back to his territory without being seen. It won’t be easy.”

  I nodded solemnly. If I get out, I thought.

  “Trust in your maa. Do not hurry, for if you do your heart will beat faster and the foxcraft will fail. Yet do not tarry, for a seized breath will bring you back to visibility.” His green eyes were cool, but he added almost kindly, “I have felt your maa. You can do this and much more. Reach deep—find your inner stillness.”

  I opened my mouth to reply, but he snorted impatiently. “Go now. The night will not wait for you.”

  I trod to the edge of the tree cover. Wolves paced the passages between the roiling stream, guarding the entrance to the Ice Palace. A howl shuddered over the snow and my fur rose in spikes. I coaxed it down. I had to stay calm—my survival depended on it. I shut my eyes. I pictured Lop racing over the snow and my breath leaped to my throat.

  “Calm,” said Métis. I turned to look back at him. How did he know? “The chant will help.”

  I drew in my breath. “What was seen is unseen; what was sensed becomes senseless. What was bone is bending; what was fur is air.” My whiskers tingled. I closed my eyes. The world of my thoughts was green. A verdant forest expanded in my mind. I opened my eyes. The palace on the glacier was a blur of cool edges and bubbling water. I looked down at my paws. They had dissolved from view.

  I stepped out from between the trees. Slowly, slowly, my paws crunched over the snow. I made my way to the foot of the huge glacier. With careful steps, I approached one of the entranceways.

  My gaze drifted behind me. I’d left prints … The wolves could find them; they could track me to the glacier. A guard was pacing up ahead, his thick paws thumping the ground. Panic crept along my spine. My raised foreleg flickered into view.

  I repeated the chant in my thoughts.

  What was seen is unseen; what was sensed becomes senseless.

  The wolf was close now, turning toward me. His shoulders were squared. Through the murk of the slimmer, I saw his muzzle crinkle. Perhaps he’d caught a whiff of my scent. His huge head turned one way, then the other. With a snort he marched on, passing me onto the tundra. It was dark now. I hoped that my paw prints would be lost to the night.

  I trod the path over the burning stream. My senses expanded around me. Scarcely seeing through my eyes, the long hairs at the back of my forelegs warned me of the seething water. My twisting ears caught shuffles of movement. My long brush hovered, keeping me steady. Where the heat from the stream fell away, an arch drifted into view—the entrance to an icy cave. Still chanting, I passed through its white mouth.

  What was bone is bending; what was fur is air.

  As soon as I was inside, I sensed the presence of wolves. Lots of wolves. They were everywhere, almost close enough to touch, their breath warming the air. I heard the murmurs of their voices. Tunnels drifted in and out of view, stretching in all directions. Where would I go? Two pale shapes came closer. Guards!

  Panic clawed at the back of my neck.

  Reach deep—find your inner stillness.

  I drew the chant close to me, felt the words slip through my thoughts.

  What was seen is unseen …

  My vision faltered. My thoughts tumbled backward, into the verdant forest I had seen in maa-sharm. I smelled resin, firs, and rich soil. I heard the twitter of birds. I started walking. Without sight—almost without thought—I must have slipped between the wolves. I was passing through the central tunnel. My invisible paws scarcely touched the ground. Although I trod on compacted ice, I felt the yielding softness of grass. I passed another wolf, no more than a hovering whiteness. A faint tension in my legs told me I was walking down. The path lurched deep under the Ice Palace. The light faded.

  But the darkness did not scare me. I did not need my eyes. My other senses explored the shadows. My whiskers bristled and expanded. My brush stroked the edge of the tunnel. My snout rose. Among the jostling scent of wolves, I detected one I knew.

  This way, Isla. Yes, that’s right. Keep going. You’re almost there.

  I sensed two figures up
ahead.

  Pass between the guards. Don’t stop for a moment.

  I kept going. My brush swept against fur. I sensed one of the wolves shift position. His great head turned toward me.

  Keep moving, Isla. Don’t stop!

  I stole forward. The wolves dropped behind me. Lower, deeper I went, into blackness. But all the time I walked in green.

  My paws trod lightly over the frozen ground. I followed the path that plunged under the Ice Palace. The air grew musty and damp. Only now did I become aware of discomfort. It scratched at my throat, growing more insistent. Scratch, scratch. Deep in the dankness, the need to breathe seized me. I swallowed a cough, the greenery fading from my thoughts. I couldn’t hold the slimmer any longer! Terror burst through me. I clutched at breath. Almost choking, I collapsed. Panting desperately, I looked up. Through the blackness, I picked up a tremor of movement. A wolf was standing over me.

  My mind whirred, a jumble of panicked thoughts. The slimmer was broken! They’d caught me!

  “Get away!” I snarled. My voice was shrill, bouncing off the walls. From somewhere overhead I heard water tapping onto ice. Drip-drip-drip.

  “Isla, is that you?”

  My heart lurched against my chest. “Farraclaw?”

  I threw myself against him, feeling the comforting warmth of his fur. I had trusted my maa—and I had found him.

  Farraclaw licked my ears as I buried my muzzle in the warmth of his fur. I pulled back sharply. I’d smelled blood.

  “You’re hurt!” I remembered how the wolves had bitten and tormented him.

  “It’s nothing,” said Farraclaw. “I can hardly believe that you made it here without being seen. Foxcraft, am I right?”

  “You are. I slimmered. Métis taught me a new technique. I was able to hold my breath longer, and disappear more. If that makes sense?”

  “I was a fool to approach the watch party,” said Farraclaw. “It is just as I feared. Their whole Bishar will storm our western boundary. King Orrùfang will challenge my fa. When the challenge fails …” Farraclaw swallowed. In time, he spoke again. “I cannot slimmer, Isla. I cannot escape.”

  “I’m going to help you.”

  “I know you want to,” Farraclaw sighed. “But what can you do?”

  “I saw it done once, back in the Great Snarl. Siffrin threw a pelt of slimmer over me. I’m going to do the same for you.” I didn’t add that Siffrin was much more experienced in foxcraft than I was. I didn’t confess that he’d slimmered while frozen to one spot—whereas I would have to find a way to work the craft while we escaped.

  Métis had coached me on the journey to the Ice Palace.

  Stay close to the wolf, he’d told me sternly. You must move as one. Let the slimmer fan out around you so it covers him completely.

  I’d pointed out that Farraclaw had greater strides then me.

  The black fox had looked thoughtful. I have never slimmered with a creature that wasn’t a fox. I’ve never had call to … But if you wish to live, you must find a way.

  “You can do that?” asked Farraclaw slowly. I heard the uncertainty in his voice. No, it was more than that—distrust. He didn’t like the idea of foxcraft, especially knowing its effect on his fa.

  I didn’t have the chance to reply. There was a shuffle of paws along the tunnel. “Who are you talking to, trespasser?” The voice echoed down the narrow walls.

  “I was repeating the oaths to my ancestors.”

  The guard snorted. “Your ancestors can’t help you now. Keep it down!”

  Farraclaw didn’t reply. We waited as the guard’s paws thumped along the tunnel out of earshot.

  When I was sure it was safe, I turned back to the prince. “Lop has run ahead,” I whispered. “He’s going to alert the Bishar so your fa can be there to repel the attack.”

  Farraclaw was quiet. We were probably thinking the same thing—picturing the raving king and wondering how he could possibly fight.

  I pushed the thought away. “We need to go. We’ll be passing right next to the guards. Walk slowly. Don’t run. They won’t be able to see you, but they might still sense you. The stiller you are, the less they can glean.”

  “And you?” asked Farraclaw.

  “I’ll be chanting in my head.” I remembered what Métis had told me. “I will fan out the slimmer, letting it roll over you. But it can only work if we’re very close. Whatever happens, stay by my side. Once we’re outside, we’ll make for the pines where Métis is waiting. I’ll do my best to hold the slimmer.”

  I guessed Farraclaw was chewing this over. He must have known there was no alternative for him. Sooner or later, they would kill him. “When will we go?”

  “Now.” Doubts clamored for attention. Are you crazy? You can hardly even slimmer. You’re no expert in foxcraft.

  You’re not as good as Pirie.

  I cleared my throat, mumbling over the chant. “What was seen is unseen; what was sensed becomes senseless …”

  It was so dark in the dungeon that I couldn’t check if the slimmer had worked. I couldn’t see anything at all. But I sensed a change. My thoughts grew light and the doubts ebbed away. The ground beneath my paws felt soft like moss.

  I leaned against Farraclaw. I imagined our pelts weaving together. In the eye of my thoughts, the slimmer was growing. It trembled over Farraclaw’s flank and shoulders but stopped short, leaving a pale glow along his side.

  I took a step forward and felt him slip from the power of the foxcraft. He moved his foreleg but overstepped me, shuffling back awkwardly. The pale glow broadened. It would leave him exposed.

  Reach deep, Isla.

  I mouthed the words of the slimmering chant.

  What was bone is bending; what was fur is air.

  Doubt rose again and my thoughts stumbled over the chant. The slimmer was failing.

  Find your inner stillness.

  I lowered my muzzle and relaxed against Farraclaw’s shoulder. I could feel his warmth. The world faded to green once more. I felt myself leap deeper into the folds of its undergrowth, its ferns and moss, where all was quiet.

  Even in the darkness, I was aware of the change. The silence expanded around us. Slowly, I raised my forepaw and sensed Farraclaw do the same. We stepped together in a smooth rhythm. Somehow, the great difference in our sizes didn’t matter, as though we’d merged into one. Together, we started up the steep path out of the dungeon.

  I was scarcely aware of pressure against my legs as we climbed up the tunnel. Our claws easily discovered the tiny pits in the ice that gave us purchase. Though the ground beneath us was freezing and hard, I pictured myself back in the forest. Light glanced between the trees. Up ahead, I saw the contour of a wolf guard, pacing toward us. As one, we shifted to the side of the tunnel, liquid against the narrow walls. We slipped past the guard. Soon, another was up ahead of us. I could just make out the outline of his long muzzle. Farraclaw followed my movements as we eased toward the other wall.

  What was seen is unseen …

  We drifted through the tunnel, as though floating, zigzagging between the guards. The light grew brighter but the world remained vague, a green mossy light for a half-closed eye. Even as the scent of wolves gnawed grooves through my thoughts—even as yellow eyes turned to look toward us, and whiskered muzzles crinkled into growls—my fear did not rise. Somewhere at the back of my awareness, I knew the wolves were barking to one another. But my thoughts remained green. I heard my own voice chanting and the steady pounding of a powerful heart.

  My wolf heart.

  Out at the mouth of the Ice Palace, we passed along an icy bridge across the bubbling stream. Orange colors grazed the edges of my vision. The vague hiss of water. Two wolves were marching along the path up ahead. I could make out the shape of their tails. Deep in my throat, a yearning for breath.

  Keep going. You’re almost there.

  I reached for the words of the chant. What was sensed becomes senseless.

  The hiss of water broke my conc
entration. The stream spat against my leg and I gasped, breaking the slimmer.

  “Isla!” breathed Farraclaw. Suddenly, he was in view. The guards up ahead were turning.

  Leap back! Now!

  I sucked down my breath and hurtled back into the forest of my mind. I was one with Farraclaw again, one with the chant and the rhythm of the slimmer. A guard was thumping toward us, but she was no more than a halo of light. We sidestepped her easily, drifting over the ice, past the other guard. Soon we were crunching onto snow, into the darkness, and the safety of the pines where the Black Fox was waiting.

  * * *

  I collapsed onto the ground, panting breathlessly.

  “Isla, are you all right?” whispered Farraclaw.

  “She will be in a moment.” I looked up to see Métis’s green eyes fixed on me. “Foxling, you have done well. I feared you wouldn’t make it.”

  My breath still raked my throat. I was panting too hard to speak. You helped me, I thought. I heard a voice while I slimmered, encouraging me. Telling me what to do. It was you. You brought me to the forest. It was the place I saw in maa-sharm. It was your home …

  Métis looked back toward the Ice Palace. If he’d heard my thoughts, he gave no sign of it. “I understand now. Jana saw something in you. That is why she sent you. That is why you are needed.”

  I wanted to ask him what he meant but I didn’t have the energy.

  “What now?” said Farraclaw.

  Métis’s ears twisted back and forth. “Any moment, the wolves will find out that you’ve escaped. They will not rest until they hunt you down. We’ll have to make for your Bishar.”

  Farraclaw stiffened. “They plan to attack at dawn after the full moon.” He turned toward the pines. “We’ll follow the path of the trees as much as possible, to loop down to the edge of the Raging River. It’s a longer way, but at least we’ll have cover.”

  “No,” said Métis sharply. “They’ll guess that’s what you’d do. Of course you’d try to hide among the trees. They’ll comb every trunk and shadow till they find you.”

  “What alternative do we have?” There was a growl in Farraclaw’s throat.

 

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