'One thing more the bones revealed, and this is certain. Fin-Kedinn, you will not reach the Deep Forest.'
Renn's heart clenched. 'Then we'll go without him. Just Torak and me.'
But her uncle wore the expression she dreaded: the one which told her there was no point in arguing. 'No, Renn,' he said with terrifying calm. 'You can't do this without me.'
'Yes we can,' she insisted.
Fin-Kedinn sighed. 'You know there's been trouble between the Aurochs and the Forest Horses since last summer. They won't let in outsiders. But they know me '
'No!' cried Renn. 'Saeunn means it. She's never wrong.'
The Raven Mage shook her head and gave another rattling sigh. 'Ah, Fin-Kedinn . . . '
'Torak, tell him!' pleaded Renn. 'Tell him we can do it without him.'
But Torak picked up a bag of supplies and avoided her eyes. 'Come on,' he muttered, 'we're losing time.'
Fin-Kedinn took the other bag from her hands. 'Let's go,' he said.
FIVE.
Wolf raced after the scent trail.
Around him the Forest was waking from its long sleep, and the prey was thin from scraping away the Bright Soft Cold to get at its food. Wolf startled an elk nibbling a sycamore's juicy hide. A herd of reindeer sensed he wasn't hunting them, and raised their heads to watch him pass.
The hated scent streamed over his nose. Many Lights and Darks ago, the bad tailless had trapped him in a tiny stone Den and bound his muzzle so that he couldn't howl. The bad tailless had starved him and stamped on his tail, and when Wolf yelped in pain, he'd laughed. Then he'd attacked Wolf's pack-brother. Wolf had leapt at the bad tailless, clamping his jaws on one hairy forepaw, crunching bones and rich, juicy flesh.
Wolf loped faster. He didn't know why he sought the Bitten One wolves do not hunt taillesses, not even bad ones but he knew that he had to follow.
The scent thickened. Through the voices of wind and birch and bird, Wolf heard the tailless stirring the Wet with a stick. He smelt that the tailless had no dog.
Then he saw him.
The Bitten One was sliding up-Wet on the trunk of an oak. Wolf caught the glint of a great stone claw at his flank. He caught the smell of pine-blood and reindeer hide, and of the strange, terrible Bright Beast-that-Bites-Cold.
Terror seized Wolf in its jaws. The Bitten One sat fearless, relishing his strength. He was very, very strong. Not even the Bright Beast-that-Bites-Hot dared attack him. Wolf knew this because he'd seen the tailless thrust his forepaw right into the muzzle of the Bright Beast and take it out unbitten.
From many lopes away came the high, thin howl of the bird bone that Tall Tailless and the pack-sister used for calling him.
Wolf didn't know what to do. He longed to go to them; but that would mean turning back.
The bird bone went on calling.
The Bitten One went on sliding up-Wet.
Wolf didn't know what to do.
'You let him get away!' shouted Torak, so angry that he forgot to talk wolf. 'He was right there and you let him get away!'
Wolf tucked his tail between his legs and shot behind Fin-Kedinn, who was on his knees, waking a fire.
'Torak, stop it!' cried Renn.
'But he was so close!'
'I know, but it's not his fault. It was me!'
He turned on her.
'I called Wolf,' she told him. 'It's my fault he let Thiazzi get away.' She opened her palm, and he saw the little grouse-bone whistle he'd given her two summers before.
'Why?' he demanded.
'I was worried about him. And you you didn't seem to care.'
That made him even angrier. 'Of course I care! How could I not care about Wolf?'
Behind Fin-Kedinn, Wolf dropped his ears and doubtfully wagged his tail.
Remorse broke over Torak. What was wrong with him?
Wolf had bounded so joyfully into camp, proudly telling Torak how he'd left the trail of the Bitten One as soon as he'd heard his call. He'd been bewildered when Torak lost his temper. He had no idea what he'd done wrong.
Torak sank to his knees and grunt-whined. Wolf raced towards him. Torak buried his face in his scruff. Sorry. Wolf licked his ear. I know.
'What's wrong with me?' murmured Torak.
Fin-Kedinn, who'd ignored his outburst, told him to go and fetch water. Renn simply glared.
Torak grabbed the waterskin and ran to the shallows.
They'd spent the night and next morning heading up the Elk River, pausing only for brief rests, and were now close to the rapids where the Widewater and the Blackwater crashed together. Twice they'd met hunters who'd seen a big man heading upstream.
He's getting away, thought Torak. Slumping onto a log, he glowered at the river.
It was a blustery day and the Forest was at odds with itself. An abandoned elk bellowed mournfully. In the dead reeds on the other side, two hares battered each other with their forepaws.
Torak caught the scent of woodsmoke and an appetizing sizzle of flatcakes. He was hungry, but he couldn't join the others. He felt cut off from them, as if he were trapped behind a wall: unseen, but tough as midwinter ice. Saeunn's prophesy about his foster father haunted him. What if Renn was right, and Thiazzi was setting a trap? What if he, Torak, were leading Fin-Kedinn to his death?
And yet he had no choice but to go on.
Wolf padded down the bank and dropped a stick at Torak's feet as a present.
Torak picked it up and turned it in his fingers.
You're sad, said Wolf with a twitch of one ear. Why?
The pale-pelt who smells of fish-dog, Torak said in wolf talk. Not-Breath. Killed by the Bitten One.
Wolf rubbed his flank against Torak's shoulder, and Torak leaned against him, feeling his solid, furry warmth.
You hunt the Bitten One, said Wolf.
Yes, said Torak.
Because he is bad?
- because he killed my pack-brother.
Wolf watched a damselfly skim the water. And when the Bitten One is Not-Breath- does the pale-pelt breathe again?
No, said Torak.
Wolf tilted his head and looked at Torak, his amber eyes puzzled. Then why?
Because, Torak wanted to tell him, I have to avenge Bale. But he didn't know how to say that in wolf talk, and even if he could, he didn't think Wolf would understand. Maybe wolves didn't seek revenge.
Side by side, they sat watching the midges darting over the brown water. Torak caught the flicker of a trout, and followed it deeper.
He'd always known there were differences between him and Wolf; but Wolf couldn't seem to grasp that. At times it made Wolf frustrated, especially when Torak couldn't do everything a real wolf could. Thinking of this made Torak sad, and vaguely uneasy.
He looked round to find that Wolf had gone, and clouds had darkened the sky. Someone stood in the reeds on the other side of the river, staring at him.
It was Bale.
Water ran soundlessly from his jerkin. Seaweed clotted his streaming hair. His face had a greenish underwater pallor, and his eyes were dark as bruises. Angry. Accusing.
Torak tried to cry out. He couldn't. His tongue had stuck to the roof of his mouth.
Bale raised one dripping arm and pointed at him. His lips moved. No sound came, but his meaning was clear. Your fault.
'Torak?'
The spell broke. Torak jerked round.
'I've been calling you!' said Renn, standing behind him, looking cross.
Bale was gone. Across the river, dead reeds creaked in the breeze.
'What's wrong?' said Renn.
'N-nothing,' he faltered.
'Nothing? You're as grey as ash.'
He shook his head. He couldn't bring himself to tell her.
She gave a small, hurt shrug. 'Well. I saved you a flatcake.' She held it out, wrapped in a dock leaf to keep warm. 'You can eat it as we go.'
From the canoe, Renn watched Wolf running between the trees: now lifting his muzzle to catch the scent, now snuffling in the brush.
Too many times, he'd found the places where the Oak Mage had stopped to eat or camp. Thiazzi seemed in no hurry to reach the Deep Forest, and this worried Renn, although she hadn't mentioned it to the others. Fin-Kedinn was preoccupied, while Torak . . .
She wished he would turn and talk to her. He sat in front, his back straight and unyielding as he searched the banks for signs of Thiazzi.
Angrily, she dug in her paddle. He didn't care about anything except finding the Oak Mage. He didn't even care that Fin-Kedinn was in danger.
At last they reached the rapids, and went ashore to carry the canoes around them. Wolf was already trotting purposefully up the Blackwater.
'How far to the Deep Forest?' asked Torak as they set down the second canoe.
'A day,' said the Raven Leader, 'maybe more.'
Torak ground his teeth. 'If he reaches it, we'll never find him.'
'We might,' said Fin-Kedinn. 'He's taking his time.'
'I wish we knew why,' said Renn. 'Maybe it is a trap. And even if it isn't, he'll soon know he's being hunted.'
Fin-Kedinn nodded, but did not reply. All day he'd been distant and uncommunicative, and every so often he narrowed his eyes, as if the Blackwater revived memories that cut too deep.
Renn didn't like it, either. She didn't know this river, as Fin-Kedinn had never led the Ravens to camp on its banks, but she thought it was well-named. It was shadowed by dank trees, and so murky that she couldn't see the bottom. When she leaned over, it gave off a sour smell of rotting leaves.
Once they had the canoes in the water again, she insisted on sitting in front. She was sick of staring at Torak's back, wondering what he was thinking. No doubt it was about finding Thiazzi. Although what, she wondered, would he do if he did? Clan law forbade killing a man without warning, so he'd have to challenge the Oak Mage to a fight. Her mind shied away from that. Torak was strong and quite good at fighting, but he wasn't yet fifteen summers old. How could he challenge the strongest man in the Forest?
'Renn?' he said, making her jump.
She twisted round.
'When someone's asleep, can you tell if they're dreaming? I mean, by watching them?'
She stared at him. His mouth was set, and he avoided her gaze. 'If you're dreaming,' she told him, 'your eyes move. That's what Saeunn says.'
He nodded. 'If you see me dreaming, will you wake me up?'
'Why? Torak, what did you see?'
He shook his head. He was like a wolf; if he didn't want to do something, it was impossible to make him.
She tried anyway. 'What is it? Why can't you tell me?'