W
e ran full pelt down the craggy hill, hurtling the last wolflengths to land hard amid the horde of angry ravens. A beak struck my shoulder as wings smacked my head. A sharp talon caught the skin behind my eye, another the soft folds of my neck. My fur, still winter-thick, protected my neck, but the claw digging into the skin near my eye made me yelp. I swung my head from side to side, knocking ravens aside. I saw Ázzuen bat several other ravens away with his paws. I didn’t want to bite any of them. I’d recognized Sleekwing and Rainsong, Tlitoo’s parents. They were the ravens who most often led our pack to prey. They would be angry enough at us for intervening, and I didn’t want to risk making permanent enemies of them—or any raven, for that matter. Tlitoo darted behind me, and I lowered my head and closed my eyes, preparing for the onslaught of raven beaks and claws. The ravens abruptly ceased their assault. A low muttering and a clacking of beaks rose up around us.
I opened my eyes. Beside me, Ázzuen crouched down, his vulnerable nose buried in his paws. When he realized he was no longer being clouted by raven wings, he raised his head, then stood.
I looked at the beady eyes regarding us. I counted nine ravens, all of them glaring at us, some of them with wings half-raised. I waited for them to say something, but it was Tlitoo who spoke, his voice ragged.
“Why are you here, wolflet? This is a raven place,” he rasped. I bent my head between my front legs and lifted my tail to look at him. His head and chest were speckled with blood, and more feathers were pulled out than could be attributed to molting. The skin on one of his legs was torn to shreds. He held his head hunched down below his wings.
“They were hurting you,” I said. I looked up and found Sleekwing among the ravens. “Why were you hurting him?”
“Because, wolf, he flies from his duty as you scuttle from yours,” Sleekwing hissed. “Wolves may accept such cowardice. Ravens do not.
“Wolves may run and hide
When tasks grow hard or daunting.
Ravens never whine.”
I whuffed in annoyance. I had already been nearly gored by DavRian, threatened by a Greatwolf, and had all but ruined our chances to succeed with the humans. On top of that, somewhere outside the valley my mother needed me and I could not go to her. I didn’t need to hear criticism from Sleekwing, some stupid bird who was not even part of the challenges I faced.
“What does it matter to you?” I snapped, glowering at Sleekwing as I had seen Rissa do.
Sometimes you have to remind the ravens that you are the larger hunter
, she had said once,
so that they do not get above themselves.
“You get food either way,” I said, “whether it’s from us, or the humans, or the Stone Peaks. What do you care what I do with the humans?”
“Wolflet, hush,” Tlitoo quorked from behind me.
Sleekwing darted forward so quickly I saw only a dark blur before something stabbed me hard on the head. I yelped. Sleek wing pecked me twice more as I backed up against a rock, almost tripping over Tlitoo, who rolled to get out of my way, then rolled again to crouch between me and the rock I had backed into. Ázzuen stood by my side, growling softly. Sleek wing settled back to glare at us. His mate, Rainsong, strode forward to stand beside him.
“Stupid, whiny, arrogant little wolves,” she spat, the feathered ruff around her neck puffed out so far I was surprised she could see anything. “Do you really think the Gripewolves’ challenge involves only mewlers like you? Do you think we spend our time with you because we cannot find food of our own? We have bound our destiny to that of wolfkind and thus must put up with your stupidity. We do not, dimwolves, have to put up with your insolence. Neja has a duty, and he will fly from it no longer.”
“That is
not
my name!” Tlitoo said, peering out from behind my rump. “I am Tlitoo, named for Tlitookilakin, the raven king.” He hunched his head down between his wings again, as if expecting another attack. “I am Tlitoo,” he whispered.
My head ached from my ears to my teeth from Sleek-wing’s attack. When the raven sprang forward again, I winced but held my ground.
“Two wolf pups and a raven barely fledged,” he said in disgust. “Together you understand as much as a half-eaten worm.”
When he spoke again, his voice was gentler.
“It is the same thing, Nejakilakin,” he said to Tlitoo. “It is your task to speak for ravenkind as did Tlitookilakin.”
“Tlitookilakin was the raven king, wasn’t he?” Ázzuen said to Sleekwing. “Ruuqo and Rissa told us about him when we were smallpups. He argued with the Ancients in the time of Indru. He was the one who convinced the Ancients to let the wolves try to watch over the humans.”
Tlitoo had told me that, and I’d forgotten. Wolves and ravens had been partners ever since, which was why Tlitoo had befriended me in the first place.
“You’re part of the challenge the Greatwolves set us, aren’t you?” Ázzuen said, his eyes agleam and his words tumbling over themselves as they tried to keep pace with his quick mind. “You’re part of the promise! That’s why you care about the humans.”
A deep thrumming arose from the throats of the ravens standing all around us. A few of them clacked their beaks.
Startled, Ázzuen took a few steps back.
“Be quiet, babblewolf,” Tlitoo hissed from behind me.
Four ravens strode forward, still humming. I braced myself for an attack. Then Sleekwing screeched something at the advancing ravens. I didn’t understand what he said, but it made the ravens stop and swivel their heads to look at him. Then they turned away, as if they did not much care what we did, and flew to perch on nearby rocks.
“Ha!” Sleekwing quorked at Ázzuen. “You are the one who is not as moss-brained as other wolves.” He stalked forward to stand in front of Ázzuen. Sleekwing was a large raven, his raised beak almost level with Ázzuen’s nose. I could see Ázzuen tense up, trying not to flinch away. Sleekwing cocked his head to one side, examining Ázzuen, then spread his wings, slapping Ázzuen in the muzzle as he did so, and flew up to a rock a few paces in front of us. Rainsong flew to join him.
“The Gripewolves are not the only ones who talk of saviors and destroyers,” Sleekwing said, looking at me, “and wolves are not the only ones whose future depends on what the humans do and do not do. It is time for Neja to fulfill his role in the destiny of ravenkind. We will not allow him to avoid it any longer.”
“And you, wolf,” Rainsong said to me, “must now help him, as he has helped you in your puphood.” I was surprised at the kindness and sympathy in her voice. Ravens didn’t usually evince much of either. She blinked at me several times. “It is time you stopped being afraid to take on that which belongs to you, wolf. It is time that you stop acting on what you fear and start acting on what you know to be right.
“Time to make a choice
To no longer follow those
You should be leading.”
Sleekwing krawked. “If you are done coddling the mewler, we will leave.” He glared at Tlitoo. “Remember your duty, Neja. Next time, our reminder will not be so gentle.” He fixed his beady gaze on me once more. “As for you, ask Nejakilakin what he did not tell you when he woke you the morning of Ice Moon’s wane.”
With that, he hopped upon a higher rock and then upon another and took flight, krawking something I didn’t understand to the other ravens, who rose as one to follow him, leaving us alone with Tlitoo on the rocky hillside.
Tlitoo limped out from behind me and hopped unsteadily onto the rock that Sleekwing and Rainsong had occupied. Carefully, he began to preen, pulling out some feathers and smoothing others. “Thank you, wolves,” he said.
I wanted to find some way to comfort him. Had he been wolf, I would have licked his muzzle, or bumped my hip against his. I took a few steps toward him, but he leapt away from me. He looked so uncomfortable, I decided to stay where I was.
“So, what was that all about?” I asked him. I looked up at the sun, now more than halfway down the sky. I had to get back to Oldwoods before the humans called off the hunt for the night, but I also had to know what Sleekwing and Rainsong meant.
“I cannot tell you, yet,” Tlitoo said. “I will tell you soon.”
Ázzuen opened his mouth to protest, then looked up, startled. I followed his gaze to see two raven-shapes soaring toward us.
I readied myself for another attack, but Tlitoo warbled in welcome as the new ravens spiraled down to us. I recognized Jlela and Nlitsa, the two females I had seen with Tlitoo at the river. They landed beside Tlitoo on his rock and immediately began preening his feathers and crooning to him.
“I am sorry,” Jlela said to Tlitoo. “We were too far away to get here before now.” She glared at me. “Why did you let this happen?”
“I didn’t let anything happen,” I protested.
“You did not fulfill your task and brought to the attention of the raven leaders the fact that Neja had not yet fulfilled his. We needed more time. If you were not such a bumblewolf we would have had that time.”
“
What
are you talking about?” I asked, snarling a little. Ravens could be indirect and evasive in the best of circumstances, and I needed to know what was going on.
Jlela did not answer me. She and Nlitsa turned their heads right and left, as if something on the hillside held their attention. Tlitoo started to speak and then, after a darting glance at Jlela, closed his beak.
Ázzuen woofed impatiently. “It’s obvious, Kaala. It’s important to the ravens that you succeed in the Greatwolves’ challenge. And it’s obvious that Tlitoo’s task is linked to yours. Otherwise, Sleekwing and Rainsong wouldn’t care about what you did today, and Milsindra wouldn’t have asked about Tlitoo. What I haven’t figured out,” he said to Tlitoo, “is exactly what it is
you
need to do, and if we don’t know that, we can’t help you.”
“The Gripewolf spoke of me?” Tlitoo asked.
“Yes,” I said. “She wanted to know where you were and if we had journeyed together, whatever that means.”
“What did you say to her?” Jlela clacked.
“I didn’t say anything to her. Why would I?”
Jlela quorked at Tlitoo. “Do you wish me to tell them, Neja?”
“No,” Tlitoo said, blinking his eyes hard. “I will. Another time. Not now.” He hunched his head below his shoulders, as he had when attacked by the other ravens.
Jlela ran her beak through Tlitoo’s back feathers, regarded me for several moments, then dipped her head in a very wolflike gesture.
“Nlitsa will fly from the valley,” she said to me, “and find out if the new wolf has been truthful about your mother. She will find out if she does indeed wait for you. Will you then be able to give attention to your task?”
“How do you know about that?” I demanded, feeling exposed.
She and Nlitsa exchanged glances and gave loud, krawking laughs that echoed off the rocks of the hillside. “You wolves are supposed to have such good noses and ears,” Jlela said. “But you never think to look around you.” She laughed again. “Or above you.”
“Why would you do that for her?” Ázzuen asked Nlitsa. He was mistrustful of raven motives.
“We would like her to focus on what she must do,” Jlela said, stabbing at the dirt with her beak.
“I would like that,” I said before Ázzuen could say anything else. “Thank you.”
“Good,” she replied with a decisive clack of her beak. She hopped up next to Tlitoo again and murmured something to him. Then Jlela ran her beak twice through his head feathers and, without another word to me, took flight. A moment later Nlitsa followed.
“Jlela and Nlitsa flew alone from the time they were barely fledged,” Tlitoo said, watching them go. “Their father and mother and all of their nestmates were killed by a long-fang while Nlitsa and Jlela were berry hunting. They know what it is like to miss a mother and a father. That is why they wish to help you.”
“Thank them for me,” I said. “Why can’t you tell me what’s happening?”
“You must trust me for a little while longer, wolflet,” he said. “Will you do that?”
“Yes,” I said.
Tlitoo looked from me to Ázzuen. “I promise I will tell you when I can.”
He looked so dejected and alone that I had to go to him. Without thinking, I trotted over to his rock and licked his feathery back. His feathers tasted different from the walking bird’s, smokier, with a touch of tree bark and prey-meat. Walking birds ate only plants and berries, and their feathers bore a lighter taste. Curious, I licked Tlitoo again.
Suddenly the rocky hillside disappeared as did the scents of the cooling day, replaced by a jolt of freezing air, then darkness and a complete absence of scent. I couldn’t see or smell anything. Then the darkness blurred, and I saw feathers, and beaks, raven heads as large as my own bearing down on me, attacking me. Wings beating me, talons tearing at me, my heart pounding in fear and pain. Then two large, furred shapes bearing down pushing away the ravens. I yelped, and the image disappeared as suddenly as it had come. I leapt back to find myself once again at Rock Crest, and to find Tlitoo standing several wolflengths away from me, his wings fully extended.
“What happened?” I gasped.
“Do not do that again, wolflet.” Tlitoo’s eyes were haunted. “You must not touch me. Do not ask me why. Do not ask me anything. I will come to you when I can.”
With a stumbling leap, he took flight, flying south, toward the river.
We watched him in silence. I had no idea what had happened when I had come in contact with Tlitoo, but it had shaken me. I watched him go, uncertain of what to do next. After several moments Ázzuen spoke. “We have to go back to the humans, now, Kaala. You know they don’t like hunting in the dark.”
“I know,” I said, looking after Tlitoo. The humans’ weak eyes were no good for night hunting. I shook away the strangeness of what I had seen when I had touched the raven. “But I’m going after my mother, too.”