by Claudia King
A few more branches up and Vaya felt the tree swaying, though not from any additional weight this time. When a thin branch cracked off in her hand she realised she could go no higher. Pulling her legs up, she wedged herself between the trunk and the sturdiest branch she could feel, reaching out for Claw once she was sure she was not about to fall. The pup's frightened whines led her hand to him. He might not have been much of a climber, but with the help of the tightly woven branches and Vaya's pushing he had made it.
Forcing herself to stay still, Vaya held her breath and listened. The tree's stillness told her that no one else was trying to climb up after her, but she could see nothing through the shaggy winter-green boughs. She braced herself for the mocking voices of her pursuers. Felt the burning shame of cowardice rising up within her. She had fled and hidden.
Yet rather than mockery, she heard only whispering coming from the base of the tree, anxious and urgent.
“Leave her up there, don't hurt yourself again.”
“Your face—“
“It's nothing.” Murie had begun to sound panicked. “We should go. We have to go, before someone sees us.”
“She is the one who brought this curse upon the food!”
“Then leave her here to answer for it! The den mother will know she is to blame, she wants nothing more than another excuse to punish her!”
“I cannot stay here,” Narolen groaned. “This whole den is tainted. Dark spirits everywhere. All of them.”
“We'll go back to the cave.”
“No! I said they're everywhere!”
Vaya strained to hear the voices as they grew quieter, but any further conversation was muffled by the wind. Breathing heavily, she pushed the nearest handful of branches aside until she could see the white slope beneath her. At first the effort seemed futile, but a thin patch of cloud allowed just enough moonlight through to give her a brief glimpse of five wolves running away to the west.
Vaya's shame melted in an instant as she realised that her cowardice paled in comparison to Narolen's. The pathetic worm. He had set the blaze in his spirit-addled fever, blamed it upon her, and now he was fleeing so that she might face the punishment for it. Had the others witnessed what he did, or was he lying to his own mate as well?
With a growl of anger Vaya eased herself out of the crooked branches and hefted Claw over her shoulder. With as much haste as she could she climbed down, setting the much-relieved wolf pup back on firm ground. She lifted her clothing to feel the wound Murie had left in her hip. A little blood, but not much, and there was no pain when she tried to walk. Claw pawed at her leg, and once more the image of Murie's hungry grin flashed before Vaya's eyes. The urge for vengeance overwhelmed her, made all the more potent by the shameful way she had hidden. What had she been thinking? The colder, calmer voice that had been with her before was swept up in the tide of her rising anger. Pragmatic thoughts of her own safety abandoned her. With or without her left arm, she would teach them their place.
Tying the thong that held Great Rook's claw back around her neck, she took the shape of her wolf and gave chase. Claw's forlorn howl almost threatened to turn her back, but the spirit of her wolf was in control now. No more running. No more hiding. No more threats. No more witches.
One way or another, she meant to finish this now.
—24—
The Deepest Cold
A resurgence of heavy snowfall muffled the night's stillness, filling up Vaya's pawprints behind her as she reached the shelter of the forest. Down in the darkness beneath the trees there was no obvious trail to follow, but the scent of her quarry was still ripe. Five wolves heading west, straight for the river that supplied most of Orec's water.
If only she was faster. If only this crippled leg was not holding her back.
Throat aching from the cold winter air, she pushed herself on until a line of snow-covered ground appeared through the trees. Scattered pawprints peppered the surface. Vaya slowed, feeling the ache in her weary right foreleg. She had not slept, and the limping run was tiring her out faster than usual. Spreading her weight out as best she could, she hopped down on to the snowy surface. Hard ice scraped against her claws, but it did not give. The river was narrow here, frozen almost solid. Only when she was mid way across did she hear the ice creak beneath her weight. Picking up her pace, she hurried to the other side and clawed her way up the bank.
What was she doing? She shook her head with a growl, trying to dismiss the useless thoughts. What would Kiren have done? Stayed behind? Tried to plea her innocence to Orec? Vaya did not trust Orec. Not when he played pup to the witch Adel. Before she could think too much she began running again, shoulders rolling beneath her fur, breath huffing against the chill wind. She focused on the strain in her muscles and the flickering scent of wolf in the air. It wafted like flames on the breeze, leaping in and out of her nostrils with every bound. This was father than she had ever ventured during her time with Orec's pack. Surely she would be at the edge of Adel's territory soon.
A thinning of the forest revealed yet more white up ahead, a great mottled expanse of it this time. An enormous valley bowed out the land to the north and south, throwing up long ridges on either side as it stretched west into the snow-stifled darkness. Vaya thought she could see trees farther down, but the falling snow made a mirage of the landscape.
Winding her way between boulders—or were they bushes?—she made her way deeper into the valley until Narolen's scent began to grow hazy. She was falling behind. The wind was stealing away her sense of smell, numbing her muzzle and blowing fresh snow into the pawprints she had been following. If only she could have been faster.
Refusing to give up, she pushed on until the downward slope evened out and she found herself deep in the heart of the valley. The trees were clustered in lines and patches here, and every time she moved between them she felt the scratch of ice beneath her claws. A great sprawling series of creeks, it seemed, shallow enough to have frozen through. The scent of wolves grew briefly stronger when she passed beneath the shelter of a jutting stone monolith, but there was no hint of life in the shadows at its base. Perhaps Narolen and the others had stopped here to rest.
Vaya's eyelids drooped. The shelter brought with it some much-needed warmth. Now that the wind was off her back she could feel body heat radiating through her fur, urging her to lie down and rest. Her right leg would be stiff when she woke up. Better stiff than strained, though. She needed to catch Narolen and finish their challenge honourably, before his companions could get in her way again, and then...
What?
Would Narolen slink back to the den and admit his treachery? He had fled once already. And his mate was tricky with words, cunning and spiteful.
Tucking her tail around herself, Vaya curled into the sheltered space beneath the monolith. Enough thinking. She was exhausted. She needed her strength and her wits for when she woke up. Unconsciously, she flicked her tail to encourage Claw into his usual spot at her side. When he did not come, her heart sank. Only then did she realise it had been almost two seasons since she fell asleep without the wolf pup beside her. Not even the steady breathing of her companions was there in the background. Her friends. Vaya snorted at her own sentimentality. A winter lover, a sun wolf, a boy who'd rather sing songs than hunt, a wild beast, and a girl who only saw her through the eyes of enamoured youth. Could she really call such people friends? She barely treated them as such, and yet they still somehow valued her company. Probably nothing more than respect for a senior huntress.
Still, it would have been nice to hear their breathing that night.
Bright morning sun stung Vaya's eyes as a wet tongue roused her from sleep. For a moment she forgot where she was, cursing Claw for waking her as she reverted from the shape of her wolf. The pup stopped licking at her face and leaped into her lap contentedly.
“Oh you...” Vaya blinked hard, taking in the white landscape around them. “...You hardy little hunter.” Her instinctive response was one of pride
. Despite his size, despite the brutal weather, and despite the lead she must have gained on him, Claw had somehow managed to track her down overnight. Then came reproach. “You should have stayed put! This is no hunt for pups!”
He looked up at her with his happy, gormless eyes, tail wagging as if she had just given him the most gracious of compliments.
“Idiot thing.” Vaya let out a huff of exasperation. Now what was she to do? This had been her fight to face. Of all the things she had managed to teach Claw over the past two seasons, leaving her alone was not one of them. He was probably hungry and tired, too.
She took the shape of her wolf again and ventured out across one of the frozen creeks, lapping at the snow to slake her thirst. Claw trotted along behind. If she took him back to the den... No, she could not. By now Orec's people would be searching for whoever had set the blaze. Her path was set. She had to find Narolen.
The realisation was a cold weight upon her shoulders. Sleep had quenched her fury overnight. She was stiff all over, and her stomach was empty, yet those things had never discouraged her from a hunt before. This time it was concern for Claw that slowed her footsteps, and the probing doubt of whether she had made a mistake in coming here. There had been no other way though, had there? She was Huntress Vaya. A huntress hunted. Vaya fought. She protected her honour and that of her clan the only way she knew how. The only way she was good at. This was who she was, and it was the only way this could end.
Why, when that understanding had always given her strength in the past, did it now feel like such a burden?
Retracing her steps from memory—for the snow had long since obscured any tracks from the night before—she made her way back to the last place she had caught Narolen's scent before it branched off toward the monolith. The smell was still there, though faint now, clinging to a copse of trees on a small island between two creeks. Frozen earth gave way to ice, to earth, to ice again as she searched the base of the valley. In winter water and land became one and the same. Had the creeks not been frozen solid this would have been difficult terrain to traverse, but soon she forgot the ice was even there.
Thanks to her stiffness Claw managed to keep pace with his limping guardian this time. It filled Vaya with another swell of pride to see him jump into a bush and emerge a few moments later with a dead vole in his mouth. He offered the kill to her first, but she nudged it back in his direction and he eagerly crunched it down. It was his meal. He had earned it.
The clear sky revealed that Vaya had slept through much of the morning, and the day was pushing into afternoon already. If she did not find Narolen soon it would mean another night out in the cold, and that would mean stopping to hunt. A hunt that could easily prove fruitless. Picking up the pace as best she could, she limped on in hopes of covering more ground. The creeks broadened out into what Vaya could only assume were shallow lakes, winding and looping their way along the base of the valley in between the clusters of trees. Most of her footfalls landed upon ice instead of earth now, and the snow offered precious little traction. Claw seemed to be enjoying it, though, scampering and sliding about a short way off to her right. She paid him no heed until a strange scraping sound came from the ice below. Almost like wood splintering, or stone grinding. The same creak she had heard when she crossed the river the night before.
Vaya's eyes widened. Spreading her paws out as far as she could, she shot a panicked glance in Claw's direction.
Fool. Stupid fool, she told herself. The smaller creeks had been frozen solid, yes, but this much water did not simply stop flowing, not even for the spirits of winter. It had to be deeper somewhere, and in her haste she had walked straight across that somewhere. The ice groaned again. To Vaya's ears the sound seemed to be coming from Claw's direction. The pup did not understand the danger. Why would he? He had not yet lived through a full winter of his own.
Praying that the ice would not crack, she reverted from the shape of her wolf and made the same sucking noise she had used to quiet Claw the night before.
His ears twitched, muzzle turning her way curiously. There was no danger here, surely? Why was his alpha now trying to make him be quiet?
Despite the freezing snow biting at her fingers, Vaya crawled on hands and knees toward the pup as carefully as she could. How heavy was he? Lighter than her, but he had grown a lot, and his reckless bounding paid no heed to the precariousness of the ice. Half way to him the lake creaked again. He put a hesitant paw forward.
“Here, Claw. Over to me.” She clicked her tongue and whistled the way she always did to call him.
Claw pricked up his ears in excitement. Whenever his alpha called him, she expected him to come fast! He leaped into the air and rushed to meet her, paws slamming against the ice with abandon.
Vaya felt something shift beneath her. The next time Claw's hindpaws hit the ice they threw up a spray of water into the air. Envisioning the pup plunging through at any moment, Vaya threw herself forward in a panic, reaching out to grab him with both arms.
A slushy layer of ice that had been obscured by the snow cracked beneath her knee. Freezing water seeped into her clothing. Unbalanced, Vaya's hands hit the lake in front of her. For an instant they found support, then the ice gave way completely.
The cold hit her with the intensity of a dozen blows, pummelling her body from all sides at once. She pitched headfirst into the water, grabbing wildly for the edge and finding only more soft ice that broke off in her hands. Black, cloudy water filled her vision, rushing into her ears and freezing her lips. Ice water was death, even for her kind. Every moment in the lake drew the life from her body as surely as blood spilling from an open wound.
Kicking desperately before her sodden clothes could drag her down, she forced her head up to the surface. The air was chokingly cold. Blinded by the high sun, she flailed for the edge again and felt more ice snap beneath her fingers. Fingers that were quickly losing feeling. Where was the thick ice? Where had she been kneeling when she fell in? She tried to look, but the underwater tumble had left her too disoriented to tell. Everywhere was white and cold. She heard Claw howling before her head sunk beneath the surface again, then all she heard was rushing water.
Kick, she told her legs, but they were so heavy and numb she could barely tell they were moving. There was no lake bottom, nothing to push against. Frosty air met her hands as she clawed for the surface. Air, but no ice. No way to pull herself free.
Vaya screamed out the last of her breath. This was where she died. Not in battle, but swallowed up by the spirits of water. This was not how it had been supposed to end.
Liquid ice poured down her throat, extinguishing her breath first, then making for the warmth of her beating heart. Something soft touched her hand.
Claw.
She felt his teeth nipping at her wrist, snagging against the piece of leather she always kept wrapped around her forearm. He could pull her to the edge, but—
Through the dull, echoing cold she heard a frantic splash of paws. Claw was not pulling her, she was pulling him. He was too small, and she was too heavy. Yet still the stubborn pup refused to let go, even if it meant his death. Just as stubborn as her.
With the last of her fading strength Vaya reached up and groped for the knot holding the leather in place. Barely able to feel it, she gripped the trailing strip and pulled. The knot came loose, unravelling one loop at a time. Then it was free, and so was Claw.
Don't be so stubborn, she thought as her eyelids closed. Not like... me.
Darkness rose around her, velvet black like the night sky. The faintest current tugged at her clothing, pulling her away from the surface, away from Claw, away from life. She let herself breathe deep of the water, refusing to succumb to panic. Let death take her softly. For once she would not fight. What a relief it was to give in. A relief. A gentle end.
Fingers clapped around her wrist, wrenching her upward so hard she choked up the mouthful of water she had just swallowed. Bright sunlight, fresh air, and the sound of Claw b
arking yanked her back into the world of the living. Sharp ice dug into her chest, but it was thick and solid this time. Her body convulsed, wracked with shivers as she vomited water at the feet of her rescuer. They dragged her part way out, then grabbed her by the thigh as another broad slab of ice cracked off beneath them. Half crawling, half rolling, she struggled her way free from the water until the ice became firm. She had never been so cold. Everything was numb, stiff, tingling. Clutching her arms across her chest, she expelled the last of the water from her lungs and sucked in a freezing breath. Who else had followed her all the way out here? What other fool had put themselves at risk for her sake?
Blinking the water from her eyes, she looked up at the male. Red-eyed and panting, Narolen stood over her.
—25—
More Than Honour
“Call your wolf,” Narolen said. When Vaya did not respond he gave an aggressive shake of his head. “You'll die without your fur!”
“Wh—why?” Vaya gasped in a thin voice.
“I'll not lose my challenge to a frozen lake! Do it!”
Unable to think of much else beyond the necessities of her own survival, Vaya focused on the last coal of warmth still burning in her chest and coaxed it to life. It seemed that her wolf's breath, not her own, blew upon that fading ember and carried her through the shift. The beast flooded into her body like warm water through a sleeve. As her common thoughts lost consciousness her wolf's took over, pulling her upright and violently shaking her body until the ice water stopped dripping from her fur.
