Six moons later, Ruuqo stood bereft over the body of a wolf who seemed too strong to die. Traan had led Swift River for over five years, and his death meant a time of trial for the pack. Ruuqo stood over the body of his father and then looked up into the eyes of his packmates. Trevegg, now too old to lead Swift River, the young-wolves, Annan and Senn. Neesa. And Rissa. Rissa, who met his gaze with a trust and confidence that dared him to be a coward and walk away. Rissa, who had given up her love to do what she thought was right, who now carried his pups. Traan had known he was dying and had insisted that Ruuqo and Rissa mate so that Swift River would have pups in the year to come. Now, looking at Rissa’s bright gaze, knowing that the future of Swift River grew in her belly, he was terrified. He was not the one meant to lead Swift River. That was Hiiln, and Hiiln was gone forever. He was not ready. He was not strong enough. He did not want to do it. But Rissa expected it of him, and for her, he would move the very world.
Something sharp hit my head over and over again, and my ear was on fire. I opened my eyes to find Tlitoo and Jlela pecking and pulling at me.
“Wake up, wolflet!” Tlitoo said. “Your packmates return and it grows late. You have too much to do before darkfall to lie here doing nothing.”
I growled at him as I staggered to my feet. It had been his idea to enter Ruuqo’s mind. I took a few steps away from Ruuqo and groaned. I wasn’t as exhausted as I had been when I had gone into the Inejalun, but I was tired. And shaken. I’d never thought that Ruuqo could love someone so deeply. He’d always seemed so cold and serious.
I heard Werrna’s heavy tread coming toward Swamp Wallow. It was time to go. I planted my front paws in the mud and raised my hindquarters, trying to stretch the fatigue from my bones. Jlela clacked her beak and looked at my forepaws speculatively, as if deciding which one to peck.
“I’m going,” I said, coming out of my stretch. I looked at Ruuqo, deep in his dreams of Rissa. Ignoring the ravens’ impatient squawks, I touched his cheek gently with my nose before leaving Swamp Wallow to find what it was the Greatwolves hid.
W
here were you?” Marra demanded. She and Ázzuen crouched at the bottom of the poplar hill, waiting for me.
“I wanted to find something out.”
“What?” Ázzuen demanded.
I wasn’t ready to tell them about Tlitoo and what we could do together. Ázzuen and Marra never treated me like I was some wolf of legend, and I wanted to keep it that way.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I didn’t find anything. Come on.”
I took off up the gentle slope before they could ask me anything else, and they followed me. The hill was covered with dry grass and short, scrubby bushes, and the poplars atop it were sparse. I stopped halfway up the hill and looked back down. I could see the humans behind us on the auroch plain. They were cutting up the carcasses and packing up the meat to take back to their village. If we wanted to get more meat for the pack, we would have to be quick. I wouldn’t put it past the humans to take our meat if we weren’t guarding it.
“Hurry up!” I said, and dashed the rest of the way up the hill. Ázzuen and Marra darted after me, and the three of us ran full pelt up the hill. Pell had said that the land beyond the poplar hill was mostly flat. I was hoping that I’d be able to see the ancient yew tree that Lydda had spoken of from atop the hill, and that it wouldn’t be hidden among other trees.
What we saw when we reached the top was at least seven Greatwolves not three hundred wolflengths from us. They were milling around a small hill—really just a rise on the plain—near something that looked like the entrance to a den.
We flopped down hard on our bellies, taking cover in low scrubby bushes. We’d been stupid to run up the hill like that. If the Greatwolves had been looking in our direction, they would have seen us. If the wind was different, they would have been able to smell us. Ruuqo and Rissa would never have done anything so reckless. I opened my eyes—I hadn’t realized I had closed them—and lifted my head to look across the plain.
“The Greatwolf cache,” I said. There was no yew tree, but with so many Greatwolves milling about, what else could it be? I couldn’t believe we’d been so close to it during the auroch hunts.
“Is this the place you have you been looking for?” Jlela quorked, landing next to me. “It has always been here. Many Gripewolves always guard it.”
Tlitoo alighted on Ázzuen’s rump. The ravens must have followed us from Swamp Wallow.
“What are they guarding?” I asked Jlela.
“I don’t know. Food? They have caches throughout the valley, but only this one is guarded by so many. Ravens have tried to find if there is good food here and were chased away. Twice, ravens were killed. We do not go there anymore.”
We watched the Greatwolves. Some sat beside the den hole, while several others took turns walking around the small hill. There was never a moment when at least one Greatwolf was not guarding each part of the hill.
“We have to think of a way to get them to leave,” Ázzuen said, but I didn’t think even he could think of a way to dispose of seven Greatwolves.
Then another Greatwolf emerged from the woods far across the plain from the hill. He moved slowly, as if it hurt him to do so.
“Zorindru!” I whispered. I wanted to go to him, but I couldn’t let the Greatwolves know we were there. The other seven wolves watched as the ancient Greatwolf approached. He stopped a full fifty wolflengths from the cache. Five of the other Greatwolves went to him, greeting him as a leaderwolf. He then stopped and looked in our direction. I was sure he’d seen us, but he just turned and walked back the way he had come, and the five Greatwolves followed him into the woods, leaving only two Greatwolves behind.
“I have never seen so few Gruntwolves guarding the cache,” Jlela said. “And they are young ones. Galindra and Sundru. They will be even stupider than other wolves.”
I squinted down at the cache. Zorindru had looked right at us, I knew he had. But he hadn’t alerted the other Greatwolves. I couldn’t figure out what that meant.
The sound of soft, careful pawsteps behind me and the scent of wind-sage and willow made me turn. Pell was making his way cautiously up the hill behind us. Unlike the three of us, he had the sense to crawl up the hill on his belly, keeping low to the ground.
“You’ve found it?” he whispered.
“I thought Stone Peak wolves couldn’t come here,” Ázzuen said.
“It’s only a problem if the Greatwolves catch me,” Pell responded. “How do you know this is the place?”
“We don’t,” I said. “But there were five more Greatwolves here before, guarding it. They must be hiding something.”
“Only two Greatworms left and five of us,” Jlela said.
“I’ll go down first,” I said to Ázzuen and Marra. “I’m the one they care about. They’ll chase me, then you two find out what they’re hiding.”
“No, wolf, not you,” Tlitoo said. He gave a great cry, a call answered by a multitude of raven voices. Then, before I could argue, he and Jlela took flight. They were met halfway across the plain by at least twenty other ravens, all of whom flew screeching across the plain. The birds began diving at the two Greatwolves, pulling tails and ears, pecking them hard—not in play as they did with us but to draw blood. The Greatwolves snapped and snarled but did not leave the hill.
“It’s not working,” Ázzuen said.
“It will,” Pell responded. He loped down the hill. When he was halfway across the plain, he stopped, planted his paws, and gave a great howl. Then he pelted full-speed toward the Greatwolves. The two Greatwolves—still under attack from the ravens—turned to stare at him, then took off down the hill to chase him. It wasn’t that much different, I reflected, from hunting the aurochs.
“Is he crazy?” Marra asked, admiration clear in her voice.
“He’s Stone Peak,” Ázzuen said. “They’re all crazy.”
He was brave, anyway. The Greatwolves ran for him, and instead of running away, he kept going toward them. Only when they were almost upon him did he turn sharply to the right and run toward the woods. The Greatwolves followed, but they were so hindered by ravens that Pell was able to stay ahead of them. The three wolves disappeared into the woods followed by a dark cloud of birds.
“Now!” I woofed. We ran down the slope toward the Greatwolf cache. Ravens flew above our heads, back and forth from the woods to the cache. I kept my head low, to avoid getting clouted by wings or scratched by talons. Then I recognized one of the ravens. It was Nlitsa. She had returned to the valley. I tried to veer off toward her but had taken only a few steps when Marra tackled me. She was all muscle and bone, and it hurt.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“It’s Nlitsa,” I said. “She’ll know where my mother is!”
“Later!” Ázzuen said. He had stopped when Marra had toppled me to the ground. “We won’t have this chance again.”
I was the dominant wolf. They should have done what I told them to do. But one look at Ázzuen’s determined face and Marra’s strong body atop me and I knew they wouldn’t. Besides, they were right.
“Fine,” I said. “Get off me.”
Marra leapt to her feet, and the three of us sprinted across the plain. We ran until we reached the bottom of the small hill, and flopped down again on our stomachs so that we would not be easily visible to any other Greatwolves that might be nearby.
“You keep watch,” I said to Marra. “Warn us if the Greatwolves come back.”
Ázzuen and I crept to the opening in the hill that the Greatwolves had been guarding. Just as we reached it, a mound of dirt in front of it began to heave. We both froze. It could be anything: another Greatwolf left behind to guard the cache, a bear, anything. I looked back over my shoulder. Marra was still on guard, her gaze flicking from the heaving earth back to the forest that the Greatwolves had disappeared into.
“What should we do?” Ázzuen asked.
I was torn—half fascinated, half terrified. Then, as we stood there indecisive, the mound of earth erupted, sending dirt and sharp twigs flying. A stocky, light-colored wolf leapt from the dirt mound. It was no Greatwolf. It was just a young-wolf, a female. Her fur was nearly white, but filthy. She landed on all fours and immediately began growling at us. Then her ears lifted in surprise as she looked us over. We recognized each other at the same moment.
“Borlla,” I said.
“Hey, Bear Food,” she replied. “Why’re you here?”
One of my earliest memories was of Borlla trying to kill me. I had been four weeks old, younger and weaker than the other Swift River pups, and Borlla had led two other pups, Unnan and Reel, to try to injure me so badly I would not be able to keep up with the pack. She had almost succeeded. Throughout our puphood Borlla had tried to bully me, tried to make Rissa and Ruuqo see me at first as weak, and then as a danger to the pack. I had hated her. Even after she was gone she caused me trouble; it was her disappearance that made some in the valley consider me drelshik. I would have been happier finding a starving bear or a horde of vipers in the Greatwolf cache. Ázzuen, Marra, and I stared at her in shock.
“What are
you
doing here?” I asked when I at last found my voice. Ázzuen and Marra were still staring at Borlla, their ears standing straight up on their heads. Marra’s tail started to wave. Then she shot me a guilty look and stilled it.
“Leaving,” Borlla replied. She looked past me to where the Greatwolves had disappeared, and quickly stretched her front and back legs, then her spine. She shook herself hard, then began to run.
“Wait,” I said, following her.
“It took me five moons to get out of here,” she said. “I’m not standing around until they come back for me. Which way is safest?”
Ázzuen and Marra scrambled to catch up with us.
“This way,” Ázzuen said. He veered left toward the hill from which we had first seen the Greatwolf cache. “How come you’re here? How did you get away? We all thought you were dead.”
Borlla looked him over as we ran.
“Didn’t expect you to survive the winter,” she said to him. “Must’ve been an easy year. And obviously I’m not dead. Sorry to disappoint you.”