But other freed foxes ran to defend the Narral. The ones who had been pleached too long, whose crusty eyes and spit-caked mouths told of the harm they’d suffered. They turned on Simmi and Tao, and the foxes who tried to protect them. Chaos broke out under the twisted branches as freed foxes turned on one another.
Coyotes closed around me. They stared at me with the flaming eyes of the Narral.
A sneer contorted Koch’s face. “You didn’t expect a fair fight, did you?” He took a swipe at me, knocking me off my paws and breaking the wa’akkir. I was a small fox once more, outclassed and outnumbered.
A deep roar ripped through the forest. The yellow dust recoiled. An echo of howls joined the first. Each was imprinted with a wolf’s rich voice. Could this be one of the Mage’s tricks? Were the wolves really here?
“Farraclaw!” I cried.
A thunder of paws and they stormed into view, the snow wolves with King Farraclaw in the lead. He took in the scene at a moment’s glance. Powerful and fearless, he crashed through the Narral. Coyotes juddered back to foxes, dwarfed by the lofty wolves. I spotted Norralclaw and Rattisclaw, Briarclaw and Lyrinclaw.
“Don’t trust their foxcraft!” barked Norralclaw. “Sniff them out and hunt them down!”
The wolves lost no time: they set upon the Narral before they could karak or slimmer, slamming them to the ground. Freed foxes panicked, crashing into one another and spinning in circles.
Farraclaw seized Koch. The fox gasped in terror as the wolf clamped his jaws at his throat. With a shake, he was dead, his head drooping from his broken neck.
A moment later and Farraclaw was beside me. “Isla, are you hurt?”
I buried my head against his ruffled mane. “You came! But it’s the Eve of Maha …”
“I was wrong,” he said solemnly. “I put tradition before friendship.” He nudged me with his muzzle. “Our ancestors would understand.”
I looked up to gaze into his moonlit eyes.
Cattisclaw and Lop bounded toward us. Lop dropped in a deep bow before me. “Isla! You’re safe!”
Huddled between the wolves, I drank in their confidence and strength.
Then I caught the sky between the branches. The clouds were dividing, revealing slivers of gray. “The gloaming is almost at its peak!” I yelped in alarm. I jumped to my paws. “If the White Fox rises we will never defeat it. I must reach the Mage’s Lair. Only in killing the Mage can we stop the White Fox.”
“This way!” called Siffrin. Already he was limping between the trees. The wolves were still circling the Narral, rounding them up like bison and smacking them to the ground. I saw Thistleclaw toss a brown-furred Narral into the air and I turned away with a shudder. Some of the freed foxes were fighting one another, rolling in the yellow dust. But most of the former Taken had already fled.
As I stepped around Koch, I saw Haiki’s body lying still in a pool of blood. Too late, I remembered Mika’s words.
Help comes from unexpected places. Know kindness for what it is.
Sadness clawed at me. Sometimes good foxes made bad choices. In a dangerous world, anyone could.
I swallowed hard and called to Simmi and Tao. “Stay here until the battle’s done.”
Flint and Karo had chased away one of the freed foxes who fought for the Narral. Already they looked much more like their old selves. There was no sign of spit at the corners of their mouths, and their eyes were clear and bright. They glanced fearfully at Cattisclaw, who struck down one of the Narral.
“Do not fear the wolves,” I told them. “They’re here to help us. Make sure the remaining freed foxes are safe—that they know how to escape the forest. They mustn’t run through the swamp.” My ears twisted forward. “Welcome back,” I added softly.
As I ran through the Deep Forest, I could hear the howl of wolves and the dying cries of the last of the Narral.
But as we followed the choking yellow dust toward the curls of white mist, an eerie silence fell. Echoes from gerra-sharm leaped to my mind. Pirie had passed through this forest, heart racing with fear.
I’m in trouble, Isla. There are shadows here, and trees with branches that catch like claws.
Siffrin limped alongside me, gritting his teeth. I longed to share my maa with him but I understood why he’d refused. Who knew what lay ahead … Behind us, Farraclaw, Lop, and Cattisclaw kept an easy pace. Even as the forest seemed to tangle around us, I felt safer for their company.
The dust tumbled into our path, rising as high as my belly. Where flecks reached my throat, it stole my breath.
Not far now, I told myself.
Between blackened tree trunks, I spotted an arch of knotted briars. The dust gushed out of it and I coughed, staggering back a few paces. I looked at Siffrin.
“The entrance to the lair,” he whispered.
Beyond the thorny arch was a spiral of great red rocks as tall as the treetops. The hole beneath the briar was only slightly larger than I was. I darted around the outside of the rocks, sniffing and coughing. There was no gap between them. The white mist rose high over our heads. It was growing, taking shape. One moment, it seemed no more than stray tendrils. The next I saw great ears, a muzzle, a billowing tail. A dim light touched the outskirts of the forest. The thump of the gloaming grasped at my paws.
We’d run out of time.
I dashed to the others. “There’s no other way.” I met Siffrin’s eye. “We’ll have to go alone.”
Farraclaw thumped down a huge paw. “You can’t do that!”
I reached to touch noses with the wolves. “We wouldn’t have made it past the Narral without you. We’ll be back soon.” I shuffled beneath the briars before Farraclaw could stop me.
I sensed Siffrin right behind me, shoving through the knot of thorns. The yellow dust enclosed us. I felt it sinking into my nostrils. In its acid clutch, it was hard to breathe. My heart started sprinting, ka-thump, ka-thump.
You can slimmer can’t you? Métis’s voice. He was right! I didn’t have to breathe the dust. I forced my heartbeat to slow down and lingered on my drawn-in breath.
Kaa-thump, kaa-thump.
I wouldn’t think of how long that breath could last, of what the poison of the yellow dust might do … Already I felt it pawing at my thoughts. Be part of something, Isla, something greater than yourself. Offer your maa for the good of your kind. A new order is coming. Bow to the rule of the White Fox.
I set my jaw. A fox has no ruler.
It’s what set us apart from the tan-furred coyotes, from the dogs of the Snarl who served the furless. It’s what made us different to our wolfish cousins. No king, no slaves, no under-fox. All equal beneath Canista’s Lights.
The red rocks closed over our heads in a low tunnel. I trod blindly. The Mage’s dust stung my eyes. The thump of the gloaming had left my paws, but I felt it through the Elders as blood that pumped behind my ears. The gloaming was inside me.
Good, said Métis. I knew I was right about you.
It wasn’t much, but it gave me strength. A surge of feeling rushed through me for the old fox. A longing to finish what he had started.
A groan rose through the dust and I faltered, reminded of the horror of the Ghost Valley. But beyond it, very faintly I felt a tug. As though a part of me was buried in the ghastly yellow fug. A part of me long lost.
A choked gasp behind me.
“Siffrin?”
His voice was a crackle. “I can’t breathe!”
I wheeled around awkwardly in the tight space. The dust was so thick I could scarcely see him. I came close enough that our noses brushed and his whiskers tingled against mine. Blinking hard, I caught the black outline of his amber eyes. I sensed his breathless despair.
A shot of maa passed between us. A ripple of warmth.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
I turned back toward the yellow dust, remembering the amber glow of the sky. The thick dust muffled my senses. But against it, a familiar scent fought through, tantalizingly close. The
groan of the Mage confused my thoughts while the beat of the gloaming urged me on.
All of a sudden, the yellow dust dropped. The tunnel opened out into a domed cave of red rock. At the center, the cave gaped, revealing the sky. White mist swirled overhead, winding and splitting.
Sitting beneath it was a fox with acid blue eyes.
My muzzle wrinkled. “Where’s my brother?”
The fox rose. I noticed that instead of a tail he had a stump, gnawed off before the white hairs began. A fox who could do that to himself would think nothing of maiming others. I swallowed down my terror.
“Your brother is far away.”
My heart sank. The yellow dust shifted and I staggered, dizzy from its dark enchantment.
“He’s lying,” snarled Siffrin. “Look over there!”
I squinted beyond the spinning mist. I could make out the drooping shape of five young foxes. My gerra leaped toward them. Pirie, are you here?
There was no reply.
“Far away in every sense that matters,” said the Mage. He took a step forward. A whisker of light glanced through the mist to hide behind a bank of cloud. The gloaming thumped in my ears.
Siffrin trod toward him. “Your terror is over, Keeveny. The Taken are free, the Narral felled by wolves. There is no one left to fight for you.” He used the Mage’s real name, reminding me he was just a fox. Siffrin sprang into the air, leaping high with his fangs bared. He flew toward the Mage. The Mage met him with outstretched claws. Though he scarcely brushed the red-furred fox, Siffrin jolted in midair, his legs in violent spasm. As though struck by a massive force, he crashed into the red stones and slumped to the ground.
“Siffrin!” I cried, darting to him. He was breathing rapidly, coughing blood.
I spun back toward the Mage. He had taken a step closer. His muzzle was low and his blue eyes shone with menace. “It doesn’t matter about the slaves or the Narral … It’s too late to stop us.”
White mist looped around him, blurring the sharp outline of his pointed ears.
Siffrin scrambled to his paws. “I’ll fight him,” he whispered. His eyes were locked on the Mage, but his muted words were just for me. “Free Pirie—go.”
I gathered the Elders’ maa toward me and started along the wall. Siffrin was charging at the Mage again. While the blue-eyed fox was distracted, I darted around the mist. It hissed in my ears. I heard Siffrin cry out, but only at a distance. Against the far wall, four young foxes stared blankly ahead.
There at the center was the face I had seen in my memories. The patchwork of gold, gray, ginger, and white.
My heart was crashing against my ribs. “Pirie!” I yelped, touching his muzzle. He stared ahead, unseeing. His breath rose and fell, but his mind was elsewhere. I pawed at him. “What’s wrong with you?”
Pirie didn’t reply. Like the other young foxes, his eyes were blank. I sniffed his mottled coat but found no injury.
I sensed the Elders pushing against the mist. It repelled their thoughts from my mind. I concentrated harder and caught a single word.
Pakkara …
Of course! I’d seen Métis use the foxcraft on Farraclaw. The Mage had put Pirie and the other young foxes under a trance. It made them powerless to fight back as he leeched their life source with tu-maa-sharm.
The reversal chant played at the tip of my tongue.
Through the mist, I heard Siffrin yelp, “Isla, look out!”
The Mage sprang at me. I ducked. Siffrin leaped onto his back, his claws grappling against the Mage’s shoulders.
A claw …
Of course, that was it! I focused on Pirie. “When you feel my gentle claw, you will be in trance no more.” I touched his nose.
He shuddered to life. His muzzle trembled, and he blinked his eyes. “Isla! So it wasn’t a dream …”
My heart burst with joy. “You’re alive!”
Siffrin cried out. “The light’s almost red!”
Destroy Keeveny before the gloaming’s fire light meets the crimson stones. If you fail, the White Fox will rise.
There was so much I needed to say, but there wasn’t time. I darted to the other young foxes, repeating the chant, touching each with a claw. As life flooded through them, I turned back to Siffrin. It was worse than I’d feared. Even through the mist, I could see that he was badly hurt. Blood was gushing from deep wounds. He was dragging his damaged leg—perhaps it was broken.
“I can’t touch him!” he yelped.
The Mage was preparing to pounce once more. I knew from the red-fox’s staggering gait—Siffrin wouldn’t survive another blow. Cutting through the mist, I dove at the Mage. For a moment I flew through the air, as free as a bird. Then I slammed against a more powerful force. I felt the yellow of its touch as it thrust me back against the ground.
I fought for breath.
Get up, Isla! The Elders spoke as one. The fire light is coming. There’s no more time!
I looked up and my belly clamped. Chinks of scarlet broke through the pall of gray. The sun was setting on the longest day.
“Get the foxes out!” I barked. “Lead them to Farraclaw.”
“I won’t leave you,” said Siffrin. “We have to kill the Mage!”
You can’t. You’ll die trying.
Pirie’s voice in my head. He was edging along the red stones, leading the other young foxes.
“Please,” I begged Siffrin. I’d lost too much—I wouldn’t lose him. I rose to my paws, pulsing with maa. “I am one with the Elders. You have to trust me.” He’d asked me to do the same once, to trust him when I’d lost all faith.
His amber eyes met mine. For a moment he paused, torn with indecision. Then he turned, dragging his injured leg. “This way!” he yelped, leading the wide-eyed foxes out of the tunnel. Relief coursed through me. Could they get away? If the White Fox rose, would they be safe?
If it rises, none of us are safe. Métis, reaching through my thoughts. You must stop Keeveny. I know you can.
The Mage took another step toward me. The mist wove around him like a shifting pelt. I reached for the Elders’ wisdom. How was the Mage’s maa so strong? How could I fight his unstoppable force?
The voice that replied was not of the Elders. They act together.
“Pirie?” I craned my head. He hadn’t left with the others. He stood behind me, almost close enough to touch. But he spoke silently, through my thoughts. With pakkara broken, he couldn’t be overhead.
My mind whirred over Pirie’s words.
They act together. He and the White Fox.
I thought of what Jana had said to Métis, back at the Elder Rock.
Keeveny is master of pleaching—he was drawn to its potent allure.
In that moment, I knew what Pirie meant. The Mage had pleached with the White Fox.
Yes, said Métis. That must be it! That’s why you can’t touch him. You have to break the tie between them.
“I can’t!” I cried. How had the Mage pleached with a thing that wasn’t even real? How could the foxcraft be undone?
I sensed Pirie reaching out for me. Use your maa!
Overhead, the scarlet light was glinting through the gap in the cave, trailing down the red stones. The white mist spun to life. To my horror, the Mage was growing. His body bled into the mist. Together they swelled, bursting toward me, spilling out of the gap in the roof. Rising into the air as a giant fox.
Now! cried a voice.
Pirie’s voice. Métis’s voice. The song of the Elders, pleached together.
I sprang at the Mage—the solid form beneath the mist. With a thud, I made contact, throwing him from the path of the light. With my body, I blocked the sunset as it brushed the cool earth. But I couldn’t thwart it, not all of it—a razor of crimson light had broken through. The groan in the chamber rose to a scream, the thump of the gloaming deafened my senses.
The White Fox was rising, a twisted ghoul.
A thud beside me. The softest fur. The light cut out.
A rumble r
ose from the earth. The great red stones started quaking. I felt the force of the White Fox, the depth of its yearning, relentless ambition. It pounded us but we held firm. Its screech clawed wildly at our heartbeats. Its bodiless voice gasped against our maa. The earth split beneath us with a burst of heat. I threw my maa around us like a pelt, felt the Elders’ silver force rush through me, protecting me and the fox at my side. Gathered together, our hearts beat as one.
Ka-thump, ka-thump.
Flames exploded through the cave. Their crackle and hiss rose over the gloaming. The Mage was running, his fur alight, a blur of red and burning hair. The earth rocked into darkness as smoke blackened the world. Colors bled from the eye of my thoughts. The groan of the Mage was swept away, until all I could hear was the beat of the gloaming, falling in step with our hearts.
As the smoke unwound, the cave was empty. No sign of the Mage or the White Fox remained. Only the two of us, coated in ash.
Me and Pirie—together at last.
Métis was dead. I sensed it even as my maa unraveled from the Elders—the fading of a brilliant light. Through force of will, he had fought on, lending what strength he had to repel the White Fox. He had kept his promise to guide me to my brother. It wasn’t the way he had wanted it, but he had played his part. I hoped he’d known peace at the end.
We gathered by the blood-bark tree in the Deep Forest. Farraclaw, Lop, and Cattisclaw had waited for us with some of the other wolves. Siffrin was there with Simmi and Tao, Flint and Karo. A few of the freed foxes had also remained. They welcomed the four who’d escaped from the Mage’s Lair. Liro, Shri, and Zilla. And Pirie—my brother.
The White Fox had gone. I pictured it, this knot of matter, a cluster of frustrated dreams, twisting in the air beyond the sun.
No trace remained of the Mage. The fire that rose in his lair had wiped him out. His choking dust had disappeared. The air in the forest was lighter. At last, I felt like I could breathe.
We slept through the long day that followed the gloaming, pressed against the earth like cubs beside their ma, feeling its comforting beat. The wolves surrounded the foxes protectively, though the threat of the White Fox had gone. Still, I slept deeper for their presence.
The Mage Page 20
