The other wolves had heard it too, but to his dismay, they'd hardly stirred. The cubs lay in an exhausted heap, and the full-growns tired from the journey sprawled, whiffling, in their sleeps. Tall Tailless was their friend, but he wasn't of the pack, as Wolf was of the pack.
This troubled Wolf. He wanted everyone to be together, as they had been on the island.
Trotting down to Darkfur, he snuffle-licked her muzzle. Sleepily, she raised her head and thumped her tail, then slumped back on her side. Soon her paws were twitching in her sleep.
The lead wolf felt Wolf's worry and woke.
Wolf dropped his ears and wagged his tail, apologizing for leaving. Then he started down the ridge.
It helped to be on the move. He would hurry back to the Den and find Tall Tailless. Then he would lead him to the pack, and everything would be all right.
For a while he gave himself up to the whisper of the grey flowers against his fur and the sweet breath of the slumbering trees; but the part of him that was always on watch noted that this Dark, smells and sounds were keener than usual. His pelt was tight, his pads tingled. The Thunderer was restless. There was going to be a storm.
Reaching flatter ground, he slowed. He smelt dogs. Some he knew, many he didn't. Keeping downwind, he crept past the great Dens of the taillesses, which clustered by the Wet like a herd of aurochs. So many taillesses! Here were ones who smelt of boar and raven and even of wolf; but he couldn't stop to explore.
Beyond the Dens, he quickened his pace, weaving through the reeds, following the ancient trails known only to wolves and Hidden Ones. As he loped, he glimpsed them: silent, swaying. He ignored them, and they let him pass.
At last he reached the denning place, and suddenly everything was wrong wrong wrong. It stank of Viper-Tongue!
Wolf smelt that Tall Tailless had been here, and to his surprise, he also caught the scent of the pack-sister who smelt of ravens, and of the pale-pelted male who was their friend. But they had fought! Wolf smelt rage and pain and biting sorrow. He smelt Viper-Tongue's dreadful pleasure.
A breeze woke the birch trees, and in the distance, Wolf heard howls. The pack was singing its joy at having found a safe place for the cubs.
Wolf lifted his muzzle to tell them he was coming back but suddenly, he stopped.
A terrible certainty came to him. It hurt more than strong teeth tearing into his flank. A wolf cannot be of two packs.
Wolf saw now that Tall Tailless couldn't be with the pack, because that wasn't what he was for. Fighting bad taillesses was what he was for; just as hunting demons was what Wolf was for.
Pain sank its teeth into Wolf's heart. Not for him to run with the pack and teach the cubs to play hunt-the-lemming. Tall Tailless had rescued him when he was little; and later, he had braved the Great Cold to save him from the bad taillesses. Tall Tailless was his pack-brother. A wolf cannot be of two packs.
Something pecked Wolf's tail.
Wake up! cawed the ravens.
With a half-hearted snap, Wolf chased them away.
The ravens perched on the rock, then flew to earth and stalked him again. Now that they'd found him, they weren't going to leave him alone.
They were right.
Swallowing his sorrow, Wolf cast about, untangling the scent trails. He soon found that of Tall Tailless, and followed it into the Forest.
He hadn't gone far before he reached the Big Wet. He smelt fish-dog and pine-blood and the pale-pelted tailless. He sat on the shore and whined. Tall Tailless had gone with the pale-pelt in the floating hide. Those floating hides were Not-Breath Wolf knew that because he'd chewed one once and yet they swam faster than a blackfish. It would be useless to swim after Tall Tailless. He was gone.
Again Wolf cast about for scents. He caught that of the pack-sister. Yes. Now he knew what to do!
Once he'd found the pack-sister, he would find his pack-brother. They wouldn't stay apart for long.
THIRTY-THREE.
Renn didn't care which way she ran. The dark pines watched her impassively, but the junipers snagged her clothes, telling her to slow down. She ran on.
Torak's voice echoed in her mind. Get away from me I never want to see you again! The look on his face . . . Retreating into himself, like a wolf licking its wounds.
She had done that to him. It was her fault.
The sound of a waterfall broke through to her, and she found herself at a narrow stretch of reeds backed by a looming cliff-face.
Her fists clenched. Somewhere up there was the woman who had ruined her father's life and overshadowed her own; who had burdened her with unwanted powers and robbed her of the only friend she'd ever had.
Leaping from tussock to tussock, she made her way to the foot of the cliff and stood, craning her neck. She could climb up and confront the Viper Mage; but that might be just what she wanted. She could set some kind of trap and capture her alive or dead she didn't care which.
With a cry, she turned and ran.
She found a trail which tracked the north shore. She hadn't gone far before she felt eyes on her and spun round.
'Bale?' she whispered. 'Torak?'
No-one. No-one was coming after her. She was back where she'd been before Torak. Friendless.
At last she reached a little bay that glowed dark-blue in the summer night. Driftwood lay in piles, bleached silver by wind and rain. At the head of the bay, three posts stood guard. They had misshapen clay heads, and their white eyes stared over the Lake. Renn caught the faint, high whine of their power, and clutched her clan-creature feathers. She edged behind them, so as not to be seen.
At the eastern end of the bay, screened from the posts by pines, she found a small deerhide boat tethered in the shallows. Maybe it belonged to the Viper Mage. She didn't care.
Quickly, she unlashed the mooring and jumped in. The boat lurched, but she dug in the paddle and headed off. She had no idea where she was going; she just needed to be on the move.
Something made her glance back.
The Viper Mage stood at the water's edge, watching her.
Terror washed over her. As if caught in an invisible net, she brought the boat about, and they faced each other across the shimmering water.
'What do you want?' Renn said, hating the way her voice shook.
'Nothing you can give,' said the Viper Mage, her face livid in the moonlight.
'Then why are you here?' said Renn. 'Haven't you done enough?'
The black lips parted. 'You disappoint me, daughter. I'd hoped for less passion. More control.'
'I hurt him. I hurt my best friend.'
Seshru tossed her head in scorn. 'What a pity, you have your father's heart! Although ' her lip curled as she indicated the stolen boat, 'you have your mother's courage.'
'I have nothing of yours!' spat Renn.
'Ah, but we both know that isn't true. You have my talent for Magecraft. You did well to help the spirit walker resist me. Perhaps I should be proud of you.'
Renn's chest tightened with hatred.
'He belongs to me, daughter,' warned the Viper Mage. 'He is my reward for the long winters of waiting.'
'He belongs to no-one but himself.'
'Don't fight me. It would be fatal to pit your power against mine.'
'Maybe. But you're not invincible. Saeunn's power was less than yours, and yet she triumphed over you once.' That struck its target. Renn saw the white fists clench.
'Not in Magecraft,' Seshru said thinly. 'She was nothing but a thief. She stole you from me.'
'She saved me!' Renn flung back. 'I was a baby and you were going to sacrifice me!'
'Is that what she told you?' Seshru drew herself up, like a snake recoiling to strike. 'Why would I carry you for nine long moons, if only to kill you? No, you were destined for greater things.' Her black mouth twisted. 'You were to have been my finest creation you were to have been my tokoroth!'
Renn no longer heard the frogs or the lapping of the Lake.
'I could have done it,' said the Viper Mage. 'The fire-opal would have drawn the mightiest demon a very elemental and I would have trapped it in my newborn child! My thing, my creature! With such power, what could we not have achieved!'
For a moment, she stared past Renn at visions of impossible glory. Then she dragged herself back and regarded her daughter with contempt. 'Instead, the old crone "saved" you. And there you sit: weak, powerless, wondering if you have the courage to kill me.'
'I could,' said Renn between her teeth. 'I could shoot you right now.'
Seshru laughed. 'Never make a threat you can't carry out, daughter! Against me you have no power. You cannot vanquish me and you cannot kill me! Remember that.' Stretching her arm towards the boat, she twisted her wrist so that her palm faced down. Renn jerked back as if she'd been struck, and nearly lost her balance.
When she looked again, the Viper Mage was gone.
The stink of Viper-Tongue bit Wolf's nose as he raced along the edge of the Big Wet. But the bad tailless was out of reach on the rocks, so he ran on, following the scent of the pack-sister.
He passed the bay where the Hidden Ones gathered to drag things from the Wet. He loped through a stand of watchful pines and out the other side. As he ran, he caught the distant smell of the Great White Cold. He sensed its restlessness. He heard the Thunderer stirring in the Up.
After many lopes, he found the pack-sister. She was crouching by the Wet, near a floating hide which stank of Viper-Tongue but to Wolf's astonishment, she didn't seem to care. She had her head in her forepaws and she was shaking and yowling as taillesses do when they are very, very sad.
Cautiously, Wolf padded towards her. Then he sat down and licked her knee.
She raised her head and blinked. Then she said something miserable in tailless talk and flung her forepaws round his neck, and buried her face in his scruff. Wolf didn't like this much, but he let her do it, because he sensed that she was breaking inside.
At last her yowls changed to snufflings, then gulps. To Wolf's relief, she let go of him. Leaning against each other, they sat, looking out over the Wet. This time, when Wolf licked her toes, she gently batted him away, and he knew she was feeling better.
Raising his muzzle, he snuffed the air, but of Tall Tailless he caught no scent. Wolf was puzzled. His plan to find his pack-brother wasn't working.
Renn hadn't cried like that since her father had died. It left her feeling empty and brittle as an eggshell.
Wolf had helped a lot. He'd left as suddenly as he'd come, but she could smell his strong, sweet wolf smell on her clothes and skin, and that was extremely comforting. She wasn't entirely without friends while she had Wolf.
After washing her face in the Lake, she thought about what to do next.
Torak no longer wanted her for a friend, but maybe she could still find a way to help him. 'So think,' she said out loud. 'What does the Viper Mage want?'
She wanted Torak and the fire-opal. And she'd thought she had him, until the ravens came.
That made Renn feel better. After all, her Magecraft had worked. She was the one who'd sent the ravens.
She began to pace the pebbles. The night was breathless and sticky, and a ring around the moon told her that the World Spirit was not at peace. There was a storm on the way. For now, though, the Lake was quiet, except for a pair of diverbirds skimming the water. Thoughtfully, she followed their flight.
All of a sudden, they swerved and headed straight for her.
Startled, she ducked.
They sped overhead, so close that she heard the whisper of wings, and caught the glint of a scarlet eye. With ear-splitting cries they veered and vanished into the reeds.
Renn stayed where she was on the pebbles. This was another sign, she was sure of it. Twin fawns. A two-headed fish. The Otter twins. Two birds. Everything in pairs. For a long time now, the spirits had been trying to tell her something. If only she could see the pattern.
Slowly, Renn got to her feet.
To read the signs, she would have to open her mind completely. No matter what the cost.
The moon had fled across the sky and still Renn sat, grinding the white pebble on the black as Saeunn had taught her. All night she had rocked back and forth, grinding the pebbles, working herself deeper into the trance.
The juniper smoke made her head spin, and the alder juice stung her eyes, forcing them shut. That was part of it. She had to remove herself from the outer world, to see with her inner eye. She had to empty her mind so that the answer would come.
Her muscles ached. The scrape of stone on stone filled her thoughts, drawing her into darkness.
'Spirits of Lake and Mountain,' she breathed, 'spirits of Forest and Ice, I ask for guidance. You've sent me signs and I thank you. Now help me find their meaning.'
Suddenly she felt a strong will buffeting hers. Frightened, she nearly opened her eyes.
Seshru.
Gritting her teeth, Renn went on grinding, retreating behind the shell of sound.
I see you . . . Seshru's mind reached for hers. I know the limits of your power . . .
The pebble in her hand was heavy as a boulder, she could hardly lift it. She forced herself to keep going, shutting out the Viper Mage.
I am the reed and the storm, the thunder and the wind . . . You cannot prevail . . .
Her muscles burned, her head swam. She felt Seshru's will surging towards her: stronger than the tempest which fells the mightiest oak.
The grinding of stones grew louder. And now it was a buzzing like bees, many bees, and she was floating on the sound and travelling down, down into the deep of the Lake. Far away in the upper world, a howl of fury faded as she sank deeper.