Fin-Kedinn paused. Then he told the story which Torak's father had told him the night after it happened.
'Narik was eight summers old when Narrander joined the Healers. Narrander soon wanted to leave. They wouldn't let him. He was stubborn. To make him obey, the Eagle Owl Mage took Narik.' He shook his head. 'Souls' Night. Your father summoned them to what would become the Burnt Hill. He woke the great fire. Shattered the fire-opal. The Seal Mage was terribly burnt. The Walker lost an eye. All escaped with their lives . . . except Narik. Bound, hidden by the Masked One. His father found the body. He went mad with grief.'
Embers spat. A grey owl swept past on its way to hunt.
Raising his head, Torak watched the lights of the First Tree fade as dawn approached. He thought of Narik and Narrander, and his father and mother; and of the brilliant, flawed Mages who had become the Soul-Eaters. So much suffering. And for what?
'It's over, Torak,' Fin-Kedinn said softly.
'I know. But I thought I thought I'd feel better.'
'It takes time.'
'How long?'
The Raven Leader spread his hands. 'After your mother died, it took many winters for my spirit to heal.'
'What brought you back?'
'Caring for my clan. Looking after Renn.'
Her name hung between them in the frosty air.
Torak got up and walked away, then returned. 'I know she has to stay. And maybe the Walker's right, maybe I will always be a wanderer. But I can't . . . I don't want to lose her.'
He needed Fin-Kedinn to make things better; but the Raven Leader's face was hard as he sheathed his knife. 'I'll take the prey back to camp,' he said brusquely. 'You put the fire to sleep and see to the fishing lines on the river.'
Renn had forgotten to take any food with her, so by dawn she was hungry and bad-tempered. She hadn't found Torak, though she'd seen plenty of wolf tracks; and she felt awful about Dark.
The Mountain clans had only tolerated him because he was with Torak, and they'd made him sleep in a separate shelter at the edge of their camp. The Raven Clan, too, had been wary at first, though they'd changed when they'd seen Ark; a boy with a white raven deserved respect. Dark himself had taken instantly to the Forest, and adored being among people. But yesterday, Renn had found him anxiously fingering the small slate musk-ox he'd brought from his cave. She'd reminded him that Fin-Kedinn had said he could stay as long as he liked, and he'd nodded politely; but she could see that he didn't really believe it, and dreaded being told to leave.
And you were nasty to him, she berated herself as she plodded towards camp. Very clever, Renn. Just what he needs.
Torak was on the river, hacking open ice holes with an antler pick and drawing in the lines. A pile of whitefish lay beside him, rapidly freezing, and Rip and Rek were walking about, pretending they weren't interested.
Torak glanced at Renn as she approached, then resumed his work.
Unlike her, he still wore his Mountain Hare tunic, drawn in at the waist by the belt Krukoslik had given him as a parting gift: a broad band of buckskin, sewn with many rows of reindeer teeth. Renn thought he looked good, but unlike anyone in the Open Forest. She asked him if he didn't mind appearing so different from everyone else.
'Why should I?' he said with a shrug. 'It's what I am.'
She picked up the antler and scratched the ice. 'Don't you even care?'
'What's the point? I can't change it.'
For a moment, he truly seemed a stranger to her: a tall young man in outlandish furs, with an outcast tattoo on his forehead and unsettling light-grey eyes. She thought, Fin-Kedinn's right, he is apart. He always will be.
Out loud, she said, 'I need you to promise something.'
He threw her a wary look. 'What?'
She'd intended to ask him not to leave the clan, but instead she blurted out, 'Don't ever spirit walk in me.'
'What?' He flushed the colour of beechnuts. 'But I'd never . . . I mean, why would I? I already know what you think.'
Renn stared at him. 'You know what I think?'
He swallowed. '. . . Yes. In a way.'
She flung down the antler and stalked off.
'Renn . . .'
The snowball hit him full in the face.
'There!' she shouted. 'You didn't know I'd do that, did you?'
Torak was blinking and spitting out snow. His expression turned thoughtful. Renn decided she'd better run.
As she sped up the bank, she heard him coming after her. She ducked. His snowball missed her and hit Dark, who'd come to investigate the shouting.
Dark was astonished. 'Wh-at . . .'
'It's a game!' panted Renn as she raced past, yelping as Torak's next missile struck her hard on the shoulder.
Dark caught on fast, and soon the air was thick with snowballs. Renn's aim was good, Dark's was better. Torak's was the worst, but he made up for it by relentless firing. The ravens' excited caws brought the wolves bounding out of the Forest. Wolf made great twisting leaps and snapped snowballs in mid-air; Darkfur got spattered all over, as she was such an easy target; and Pebble raced about, barking and getting under everyone's feet. Eventually, Torak and Renn ganged up on Dark and pelted him until he laughed so much he fell over. Gasping and clutching their sides, Torak and Renn collapsed beside him, Wolf and Darkfur crashed into them, and Pebble climbed on top.
They lay gazing up at the sky, munching some hazel cakes Dark had brought with him, and tossing crumbs to the ravens. Then a cloud drifted over the sun, and it was suddenly cold.
Pebble wandered off and got entangled in a fishing line. Dark went to help him, followed by Wolf and his mate.
Renn flipped onto her belly and looked at Torak. 'If you're going to leave,' she said quickly, 'get it over with.'
Torak sat up. 'Renn . . .'
'Well?'
He frowned. 'Renn.'
She got to her feet and walked away.
The wolves went to hunt in the Forest, and the others returned to camp: bedraggled, covered in snow, and having forgotten the whitefish on the ice.
Fin-Kedinn glanced from Torak to Renn, then told Torak to go and fetch the fish, and Renn to find Durrain, who was asking for her. 'Dark, stay with me,' he said curtly. 'I need to talk to you.'
Oh, no, thought Renn. She saw Torak hanging back, worried for his friend.
'I'll fetch my gear,' said Dark in a defeated voice.
'Why?' Fin-Kedinn said sharply. 'Are you leaving?'
'Um. But I thought . . .'
'Do you want to leave?'
Dark shook his head.
'Then stay.'
'D-do you mean for good?'
'You belong with us. Yes?'
Shyly, Dark nodded.
'Well, then stay.' Without waiting for a response, Fin-Kedinn turned on his heel and walked off.
Stunned, Dark watched him go. Torak grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. Renn wondered why her uncle wasn't smiling.
That night, she woke to see him sitting hunched by the fire. Unusually for Fin-Kedinn, he wasn't doing anything; he was simply staring into the flames.
In the Forest, the wolves howled. Renn made out Wolf's strong, happy song, and Darkfur's musical howls, and Pebble's ever-improving yowl.
She watched Fin-Kedinn turn his head to listen. His expression was sad: as if the wolves were telling him something he didn't want to hear.
After a while, he sat straighter, and squared his shoulders.
And nodded once.
FORTY-TWO.
The Dark was gathering under the trees as Wolf trotted through the Bright Soft Cold to wait for his pack-brother.
He reached the hill above the great Den of the taillesses, and jumped on a log to catch the smells. He watched some of the raven-smelling pack emerge from the Forest with piles of branches in their forepaws. The white raven lit onto the top of the Den, and the kind tailless with the pale head-fur came out and called it down.
The black ravens flew past Wolf and greeted him with soft gro-gro's. As he was in a good mood, he acknowledged them with a lift of his muzzle. He'd brought down a roe buck, and his belly was full. When he'd left Darkfur and the cub, they'd been comfortably gnawing bones.
A loud crunching in the Bright Soft Cold told Wolf that his pack-brother was coming. So noisy, thought Wolf affectionately.
To make sure that Tall Tailless saw him, he left the trees and stood in the open, swinging his tail. Tall Tailless' greeting was subdued. He sat on the log and stared at nothing, and Wolf sat beside him. Poor Tall Tailless. Still confused about what he should do.
They were silent for a while. Then Tall Tailless said, Your Breath-that-Walks. I saw it on the Mountain. It shines very bright.
At least, that was what Wolf thought he said. Sometimes it was hard to tell.
You are wise, Tall Tailless went on. You always help. Help me now. Should I stay with the raven pack? Or leave?
Wolf put his head on his pack-brother's knee, and met his gaze. And told him.
Next morning, Torak was tying his sleeping-sack roll when Dark appeared at the door of the shelter. They exchanged glances, and Torak saw with relief that he didn't have to explain to his friend.
'I'll miss you,' said Dark.
Torak tried to smile. 'My father used to say that the best thing in life is moving on to the next campsite.' He paused. 'Of course, that's a Wolf Clan saying, and I'm not Wolf Clan.'
'Well. I'm not Raven Clan. They don't seem to mind.'
'Do you know that some people are already calling you the White Raven?'
Dark smiled. Recently, he had gained a new assurance. Torak thought it suited him.
'What will you do?' said Dark.
'Oh . . . hunt. See parts of the Forest I've never seen before. Be with Wolf and Darkfur and Pebble.' He thought for a moment. 'I'm tired, Dark. I want to be at peace among trees.'
Dark nodded. 'Renn says that too much has happened to you; and not enough to me.'
Torak looked down at his sleeping-sack and thought, Trust Renn to understand. Scowling, he yanked the last knot tight.
'Here,' said Dark, holding out his palm. 'You haven't got an amulet, so I made you one.'
It was a small stone wolf on a thong: beautifully carved in grey slate, its eyes half-closed as it lifted its tiny muzzle to howl. 'I've scratched the Forest mark on his belly,' said Dark, 'and I reddened it with alder blood. That's quite important. The red is for fire and the Mountains, and friendship. You should renew it from time to time. The alder blood, I mean.'
Torak took the amulet and put it round his neck. 'Thanks,' he said. 'I will.'
He found Fin-Kedinn sitting by the river, mending fishing nets. The Raven Leader stopped working and watched him approach. 'I wish you didn't have to leave,' he said quietly.
'So do I. But my pack-brother reminded me of something. That a wolf cannot be of two packs.'
Fin-Kedinn nodded thoughtfully. 'You know, when you were small, and your father sought out the ancient one at the clan meet by the Sea, he said to her, Although my son isn't Wolf Clan, I think he is truly wolf. I finally understand what he meant.'
Torak's throat worked. 'Fin-Kedinn. I don't I don't know how to thank you for all you've done.'
The Raven Leader frowned. 'Don't thank me. Just remember, Torak. Wherever you go, you'll find friends among the clans. And I hope . . . I hope some day you'll come back.'
'I will. I will see you again. I promise. My foster father.'
Fin-Kedinn rose to his feet. His blue eyes glittered as he put his hand on the back of Torak's neck. They touched foreheads. 'Goodbye, my son,' said the Raven Leader. 'May your guardian run with you.'
Torak left him and walked blindly out of camp.