He looked the three of us over and cocked his head, his expression thoughtful.
“You can say what you have to say now,” Tlitoo croaked at him.
“My message is for one set of ears, raven, not four,” Demmen said, annoyed. Tlitoo had that effect on a wolf. Demmen glowered at him, but Tlitoo just crouched in the dirt and began picking bugs out of his wing feathers.
“
He’ll just listen from the trees, anyway,” Marra said when Tlitoo had made it clear he wasn’t leaving.
“And anything you tell one of us, we’ll tell the others,” Ázzuen added.
Demmen sighed. “Very well,” he said, less than graciously. He sat, and the three of us sat, too. He was silent for a long moment, then looked straight at me.
“Kaala,” he said.
I stood in surprise. He had all but ignored me after Unnan had told him I was unlucky.
“I have a message for you,” Demmen said, “from your mother.”
My breath caught in my chest.
“
My mother,” I said in a soft voice that didn’t sound like me.
Ázzuen pressed himself against me. Demmen, who had been so aloof, was now looking at me with such kindness and sympathy, I couldn’t stop myself from saying the first thing that came into my head.
“They sent her away,” I said. “She didn’t leave. They exiled her. They killed my littermates.” The injustice of it, of what Ruuqo had done, which I had to ignore most of the time if I was to be part of the pack, overwhelmed me.
“I know they did, youngwolf,” Demmen said.
“How do you know?” I asked, and then understood. Of course. “You’ve seen her. You’ve seen my mother.”
“Three moons past,” he answered. “She was desperate with worry about whether you had lived or died. She heard from the ravens that you were well but was not sure whether or not to believe them.”
Tlitoo clacked his beak and grumbled something I couldn’t hear.
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” he said gently. “She was going into hiding, and for her own safety and mine would not tell me where.”
Panic tightened my chest. She was in danger. “What did she say? What is she hiding from? Was my father with her? Frandra and Jandru said they knew where she was at autumn’s end!”
“Slow down, youngwolf, and do not attract attention. In spite of what I told Ruuqo about joining tonight’s hunt, I don’t wish my presence in the valley to be widely known. The Greatwolves would not be pleased to find me here. For now, your mother is safe, though she is pursued by Greatwolves outside the valley who are determined that the two of you should not be reunited. No other wolf was with her when I saw her. She is not where your Greatwolves last saw her. She has asked that you come to her. She said it’s important not only to her but also to the greater good of wolfkind. You are to leave the valley by the Eastern Mountains. Once you cross the mountains you will see a vast plain to the south of you. In the distance is a rock as large as a small hill and a grove of birches. A messenger will find you there.”
My head felt like it was full of leaves, my lungs packed with dirt. After all this time, my mother had called to me. And I couldn’t go to her. I couldn’t leave the humans.
“How are we supposed to find her with so little information?” Ázzuen demanded. At the moment, that was the least of my worries, but Ázzuen was always practical.
“I didn’t know you were invited.” Demmen looked down his muzzle at Ázzuen. Ázzuen was not extraordinary to look at. He was tall, lanky but not heavy. He did not have the bearing of a leaderwolf or even a secondwolf. Demmen was sleek, and his muscles made it clear he was a strong wolf. Ázzuen would be submissive to him in any pack. Demmen looked surprised when Ázzuen didn’t lower his tail and ears to him. Marra stepped up beside Ázzuen. The tightness in my chest loosened just a little.
“We’re pack,” I said. “We run together.”
“You know best,” Demmen said after a moment. “There will be messengers who will find you along the way once you leave the valley. They are looking for a wolf with the mark of the crescent moon on her chest. I will let them know that she may be accompanied by other wolves.” Tlitoo croaked. Demmen sighed. “And a raven. You must get to the hill rock by the night the Denning Moon is halfway through its cycle.”
It was impossible. The Denning Moon would be halfway through its cycle two moons from now. We couldn’t possibly leave the valley by then.
“We can’t go,” I said. “We have to keep peace in the valley between wolves and humans.”
“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” Ázzuen interrupted me. “I don’t trust him, Kaala,” he said to me.
I was shocked that he would say so with Demmen standing right there, but I could understand why he said it. There was something about Demmen that wasn’t entirely trustworthy.
“Why not?” I asked him, aware of Demmen’s eyes upon us.
“Why does he come now? Why does he come with the news right after the Greatwolves have allowed you to be with the humans?” He narrowed his eyes at Demmen, who glared right back at him.
“What’s this about the humans?” Demmen demanded, turning away from Ázzuen.
I told him.
“I had heard of the events that occurred at autumn’s end, but not of this. It may change things,” he said, “but it may not. As for whether or not I speak the truth, I can tell you what your mother told me, Kaala,” Demmen said. “Your sisters’ names were Onna, Tannla, and Suuna, after the flowers that grew near your den site, and your brother was Triell. You and he were especially close, and you challenged Ruuqo over his death. When your mother left the valley she told you to gain acceptance into your pack before you came to seek her. Now she says you must come with or without it.”
It was all true. He had, at the very least, spoken to my mother. Yet there was still something about Demmen that bothered me, and I trusted Ázzuen’s instincts. I couldn’t just accept what Demmen said. But I couldn’t disbelieve him either. If my mother had called me, I had to go to her. And I couldn’t go. I couldn’t leave TaLi and I couldn’t break my promise. I had to stay in the Wide Valley.
“We can’t go,” I said again.
“It may be that the promise you made to your mother overrides this one you have made about your humans. Neesa said the fate of wolfkind may depend upon it.”
A commanding howl interrupted him: Ruuqo calling us to the hunt. Approaching pawsteps and a familiar scent alerted us that Yllin was nearing us.
“It would be best,” Demmen said, “if you didn’t share what I have told you with others in your pack.”
A moment later, Yllin burst into the birch grove. She listened with us as Ruuqo howled again.
“It’s the human hunt,” Yllin said. “Kaala, you and Ázzuen are to meet Trevegg at Oldwoods Plain. An old raven told us that’s where the humans are going to hunt a herd of horses. Marra, you, too. Ruuqo says your speed will be helpful but you are not to go near the humans after the hunt.” Marra yipped in excitement. “And none of you is to hunt until Trevegg gets there. The rest of us are to follow Ruuqo to hunt the snow deer. Where’s Unnan?” She paused for breath and took in the tension in the grove. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Demmen said. “The youngwolves were just telling me of the interesting pact you have made with the Greatwolves, and I was telling them of things outside the valley.”
Yllin was instantly suspicious. “What have you been telling them, Demmen?”
“Something for their ears only, Yllin.”
“Something for the Swift River pups and not for the rest of the pack? Spit it out, Demmen. You didn’t used to speak in riddles.”
“There are things out there you know nothing of, Yllin, safe here in your valley,” he said, a nasty edge to his voice. He saw Yllin’s hurt expression, and our startled ones, and his face softened. “Come with me to the snow deer hunt, Yllin. I will tell you the things I told these youngwolves of life outside the valley.”
I was once again struck at how quickly he changed his manner. One moment he was angry and bad-tempered, the next kind and gentle. It made me uneasy.
Yllin narrowed her eyes at him. Demmen averted his gaze, and Yllin smiled slightly. He had just given way to her, granting her dominance. He kept his muzzle tightly closed, refusing to tell her what he had told us. But I wasn’t going to keep secrets from Yllin. I told her about my mother and Demmen’s news of her. Demmen glared at me as I did so. I ignored him. Yllin was pack.
Yllin listened carefully to me, her eyes widening.
“Demmen’s right,” she said. “Ruuqo and Rissa don’t need to know about this. I’ll help you if I can, Kaala, but don’t do anything stupid in the meantime. There’s always a way to work things out.”
Ruuqo howled again.
“Are you coming to the hunt?” Demmen demanded irritably.
“Yes,” she said. She bolted from the clearing, and Demmen, caught by surprise, followed her disappearing tail. Unnan stumbled into the grove, his fur covered in brambles, just in time to glare at us, and to follow Yllin and Demmen to the snow deer hunt.
Ázzuen and Marra watched them go, then began to trot toward Oldwoods Plain. They stopped when they saw I wasn’t following them.
“I don’t know what to do,” I said.
Tlitoo hopped forward twice, stopping just to my left.
“Wolflet?” he quorked.
I turned on him.
“You could find out if you wanted to! You could fly outside the valley and find out if Demmen is telling the truth about my mother.” I placed a paw on either side of him, trapping him. “You have to go.”
“I cannot,” he said, ducking under my chin and stepping away.
“Why not?” I demanded. “It’s nothing to you to fly outside the valley!”
“It is
not
nothing, blatherwolf!” he hissed. “You do not know anything.” He opened his beak, as if to say more, then clacked it shut.
“I must go meet with the other ravens. In a place for ravens, not wolves!”
He stalked away from me, raised his wings, and took flight. Stunned, I watched him go. I took a few steps after him, then stopped, uncertain of what to do next.
“We have to go to the humans, Kaala,” Ázzuen said. “We may not get this chance again.”
I just stood there.
“Kaala,” Marra said impatiently. “We don’t even know if Demmen is telling the truth. If we lose our chance to be with the humans, nothing else matters.” I knew she wanted us to get to the humans as soon as possible so she could try to find MikLan. She and Ázzuen both looked at me, clearly irritated that I was slowing them down.
Suddenly I was so angry my vision blurred and my ears stretched so far back along my head they made my eyes ache. My nose wrinkled and my lips pulled back to expose my teeth to the cool air.
“You have your mother,” I snarled. “You have no idea what it’s like not to!”
“It’s been eight moons since she left, Kaala,” Marra said, perplexed. “I thought you’d be over her leaving by now.”
“What do you know about it?” Despair began to enfold me, and a sudden hollowness made my chest feel as if it might cave in on itself. I’d had to ignore my sorrow for so long just to survive. Now it was demanding its due. I didn’t want it. I growled at Ázzuen and Marra. They both stepped back.
“You never mentioned anything,” Ázzuen said.
“No, I never mentioned anything. What was I supposed to say? That I’m so miserable about her being gone that sometimes I think of letting the river carry me away when we cross it? That sometimes I couldn’t care less if I ever hunted prey again? That sometimes I’m afraid to go to sleep because I dream of her being dead?” I stopped, panting, trying to get air back into my lungs.
Ázzuen and Marra looked at each other. They were no help to me. I’d never felt so alone in my life. I thought of just leaving, of leaving them and their ignorance and obliviousness behind and going on my own to find my mother. Ruuqo howled again. I swallowed hard and took several deep breaths to calm myself. Whatever else I did, I couldn’t abandon TaLi. I had to go to the hunt.
“Kaala,” Ázzuen began.
“Never mind,” I snapped. I stalked out of the grove and toward the hunt, walking at first, then breaking into a run, staying only pawswidths ahead of the misery that threatened to engulf me.
T
he sun was just beginning its descent by the time we reached Oldwoods Plain, but it was warm and the snow had completely melted from Oldwoods’ hard-packed dirt. Neither Trevegg nor the humans had arrived. The horses were there, though, lazily chomping the grass, almost begging us to hunt them.
Oldwoods Plain had once been forestland. When Trevegg was a youngwolf, a fire had swept through the area, leaving nothing but burnt stumps and bare ground. The trees had begun to grow back but were sparse and as small as bushes, and the faint scent of burnt wood still haunted the air. Someday, the forest would take over again, and Oldwoods would be no good for hunting grazers, but for years it had been one of our best hunting grounds.
The horses looked up at us when we loped into the meadow, then went back to eating, all but ignoring us. We prefer to hunt in the cooler parts of the day and night, and most prey know this. Any prey that runs every time it sees a hunter will tire quickly, making itself easier to catch, so they learn when they’re young how to determine whether we are hunting or just watching. And horses are strong, arrogant prey. They know they can sprint just a little faster than we can and can use their hooves to crush us. When we were only pups, a herd of horses had killed Reel, one of Ázzuen and Marra’s littermates. Since I had dared the other pups to chase the horses, many in the pack blamed me for Reel’s death.
One of the mares swept over us with her eyes, blew a great gust of haughty air from her nose, then went back to grazing.
My anger, which I had managed to suppress a little on the run to Oldwoods, surged again. The horses of the Wide Valley owed me a hunt. “Start running them,” I ordered Ázzuen and Marra. “We can see which ones are prey.”
Ázzuen and Marra, who had been keeping at least three wolflengths behind me during the short run to Oldwoods, stopped and exchanged a glance, then looked at me. I met their eyes, daring them to challenge me. I gave them the look Ruuqo gave the pack when he wanted them to obey him, the look a dominant wolf gives a more submissive pack member. Marra snorted, turned her tail, and walked a few paces away. Ázzuen sat down and began licking a front paw.