He looked at her, concerned, then turned to Yllin.
“Thank you,” he said.
“You’re welcome,” she said. “It’s good to see you fighting for what you want. You do need to learn to be a little less obvious about disobeying the leaderwolves, though. Especially with the Greatwolves keeping such close watch on us. I still can’t believe Milsindra is letting any of us live with the humans.”
“Because she thinks we can’t do it,” I said.
“Good,” Yllin answered. “Then you’ll impress the Greatwolves that much more when you prove them wrong!” She touched her nose to my muzzle and bounded after the rest of the pack.
Ázzuen and I were starting to follow her when Marra growled.
“So the two of you get to go to the humans?” she said.
Ázzuen watched her warily. “I’ll get you to the humans, too,” he said to her. “I promise.”
She turned and began to walk away. “I’m going to find MikLan. Are you coming?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at us. MikLan was BreLan’s brother, and the two young males lived in a different tribe from TaLi. It was a half-day’s walk for a human, but Marra could easily make it there and back by darkfall.
Both Ázzuen and I were silent, not wanting to upset Marra further.
“We don’t want the humans to feel threatened,” Ázzuen said at last. “Maybe you should wait a little, a day or two.”
Marra whirled to face us. “You mean wait until Ruuqo and Rissa finish talking about how the two of you get to go to the humans while I wait with Unnan? Until the pack decides that only a few wolves need to be with the human tribe and the rest of us have to keep our distance. Fine. You go back to Fallen Tree. I’m going to the Lan tribe.” She turned her tail to us and stalked off.
Ázzuen met my eyes. I sighed and trotted off after Marra, Ázzuen close on my tail. We caught up with her before she reached the river. We were breathing hard. Marra wasn’t.
“Slow down, would you?” I said. “Not all of us are half antelope.” We all knew Marra could have easily outpaced us if she wanted to. She must have wanted us to catch up with her. I touched my nose to her cheek. “You know we’ll come with you.”
Her muzzle softened and the tight set of her mouth relaxed. “I can go to MikLan’s tribe, while you’re at TaLi’s,” she said. “Ruuqo and Rissa will never know.”
They would know, of course, they would smell it on her. But I didn’t want to argue with her about it. We set off for the river at a trot.
“Why do you think Ruuqo decided to let Ázzuen go to the humans?” I asked Marra. “It weakens him to change his mind like that.”
“Because he’s afraid,” Marra said, pausing in the shade of a spruce. “Because he feels like he is losing control.” Ázzuen and I stopped, too. Ázzuen was by far the smartest of us, but Marra had the best understanding of pack dynamics. She always seemed to know the reasons behind what every wolf in the pack said and did and how to use the knowledge to her advantage.
“I think he’s at a loss about what to do with the humans,” she said, beginning to walk more slowly toward the river. “He agreed to help you with the humans because he had to, but I don’t think he really knows how. He’d never admit it, but if he thinks Ázzuen can help him succeed and look good in front of the Greatwolves, he’ll use him.”
“And he’s definitely afraid of the humans,” Ázzuen said. “I could smell it, even when he was so angry with me.”
I grunted. They were both right. Ruuqo had always been uncomfortable even discussing the humans, and he certainly never wanted to be involved with them. If he didn’t help me succeed in the task the Greatwolves had set, the Swift River pack would die with every other wolf and human in the valley. Yet consorting with the humans went against everything Ruuqo believed in. For the first time, I felt a little sorry for him.
In the distance we could hear the river, swollen with melting snow, roaring. The humans lived on the other side. The quickest way to get to a good crossing spot was along a flat, open path that both deer and humans liked to use on their way to drink. The adults in the pack didn’t like using it because it was so exposed. We had only taken a few steps along it when Marra, who was in the lead, stopped, and cocked her head. A moment later I heard a rustling from above, and a large shape dropped down from a pine tree, knocking Marra off her feet. Before we could react, the human boy rolled off of Marra and grinned.
“I wondered where you were!” His grin widened as Marra licked his face. MikLan was younger than TaLi and exuberant. He was still short and solid, his limbs hadn’t lengthened as TaLi’s had, and his face was round, even though the rest of him was winter-thin. He reminded me of Ázzuen when we were all still smallpups.
“Hello, wolves!” he said cheerfully.
Marra’s gloom deserted her as she leapt upon MikLan and washed tree sap off his face. I was a little jealous. I’d had to be so formal with TaLi when she was with her pack.
Laughing, the boy pushed Marra away.
“I have food!” he announced. All three of us pricked up our ears. He pulled three strips of dried deer meat out of a horse-skin pouch he carried around his waist. It was fire-meat. My mouth began to water. The humans didn’t like to eat old meat, and so they had found a way to dry it out and make it last a very long time. That was one of the ways they survived the winter. I had thought they might hibernate, like some of the bears do, but Trevegg said that wasn’t it. They did stay in their shelters during the coldest times, and saved food, including firemeat, to sustain them. It was flavorful, every bite tasting like greslin, and one piece gave me as much energy as several mouthfuls of fresh meat.
MikLan gave each of us a thick piece. I tried not to be jealous that he gave the biggest one to Marra. As we chewed the deer meat, trying to savor the delicacy instead of bolting it, he chattered at us.
“TaLi and BreLan wanted to come with me, but they couldn’t,” he said, addressing Ázzuen and me. “HuLin wants TaLi to marry DavRian. He was the idiot with the two spears you met on the Vast Plain.”
Spears
was the human word for their sharpsticks. “He’s from the Rian tribe, and they want an alliance with us. His father, PalRian, is the tribe leader. So TaLi has to stay and be nice to DavRian. So, of course, BreLan is staying around to make sure that TaLi doesn’t pay
too
much attention to DavRian. He, BreLan, I mean, wants to ask HuLin to let him stay with the Lin tribe for the whole year so that he can court TaLi. So does DavRian. HuLin hasn’t decided whether he’d rather have an alliance with the Lan tribe or Rian, so he will probably let both of them stay.” He took a breath. Of all the humans, he spoke most easily with us, as if we were other humans or as if he were another wolf. It never seemed to bother him that he couldn’t understand us. It was almost a real conversation. A one-sided conversation.
He buried his face deep in Marra’s neck fur. “I have to leave, before they see I’m gone.” MikLan threw his arms all the way around Marra’s chest. She grunted as he squashed her ribs. He let her go, nuzzled the top of her head, and ran off into the woods, as clumsy as a bear cub.
Marra looked after him, satisfaction on her face.
“Now can we go back?” I asked.
Marra continued to watch the place where MikLan had disappeared, and for a moment I feared she would follow him.
“Yes,” she said at last, “we can go back.” The contentment on her face was replaced with defiance. “But I’m not staying away from him while the two of you are at TaLi’s homesite. I won’t do it.”
“You can’t go if Ruuqo says you shouldn’t,” Ázzuen argued. “You know that. If he thinks we aren’t responsible he might decide none of us pups can go.”
Marra lifted her lip at him. I’d had enough.
“Listen,” I said, “we will all get to be with our humans. It may take some time, but I’ll convince Ruuqo that you have to come, too. You have to trust me.”
To my surprise, Marra’s fur settled on her back in a way it hadn’t when Ázzuen promised her earlier. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll wait. But I won’t wait for long.” She licked the last of the firemeat from her muzzle. “I’m hungry. I didn’t get much of the deer meat.”
“Because Yllin had to sit on you to keep you from going after the humans,” Ázzuen said with a grin. “There are squirrels digging up their caches at the scrub meadow. Let’s go there. I don’t think Ruuqo is going to let me have much to eat right now.”
The two of them set off for the meadow. When they saw I wasn’t following them, they stopped.
“Aren’t you coming?” Marra asked.
“No,” I said. “I want to sleep.”
“When there’s good hunting?” Marra asked, blinking at me in disbelief. Then she grinned. “That leaves more squirrels for me,” she said, and bounded off.
Ázzuen looked after her and then to me. Then he shot me an apologetic look and pelted after Marra. I waited until I was certain they were gone and set off in the opposite direction. I hadn’t forgotten the pine-acrid scent from the Great Plain. There was only one wolf who smelled like that, and I needed to talk to her.
I returned to the Great Plain and tried to find the scent again, but the air was still, and the scent was gone. I sniffed around the spot where I had last picked up the scent but couldn’t find it. I still had several hours before I had to return to the pack, and I wasn’t ready to give up. I left the Great Plain and headed west.
If I were looking for an ordinary wolf, I could sniff out her scent in her own territory, or look for her pack, but Lydda was no ordinary wolf. She was a youngwolf who had lived long ago—a wolf who, like me, had hunted with the humans. She had come to me when I was a smallpup and helped me against the Greatwolves, and again after the battle at Tall Grass. That had been three moons ago, and she had not been able to come to me since. Entering the world of the living weakened her. I had looked for her everywhere, in the early mornings and in the shadows of the dusk. I had tried to find the place she had told me about, where the world of life and the world of death came together. But I never found her. Now her scent blew through the valley once again, and if there was ever a time I needed her advice, it was now.
I stopped when I reached a cluster of boulders set in a circle in a patch of dirt and grass. It was where the Greatwolves and human krianans held their Speakings, and the place where Lydda had first told me of her time with the humans. It was as good a place as any to try to look for her.
I waited, hoping she would come to me there. No one came. Then I caught a flicker of movement to my right. I whirled toward it, half expecting to see the spiritwolf there. Instead, I saw a large, scruffy raven perched high on a rock. He screeched at me once, then fell silent.
He was an old raven, his eyes clouded and his legs so thin I didn’t see how he could stand on them. His feathers were so ragged I could see patches of skin showing through them, and one of his wings was crooked, as if it had once been broken.
“What do you look at, mewler?” the old raven croaked.
“Nothing,” I said. I wasn’t going to tell some bird I was looking for a spiritwolf. I lifted my nose in the air, trying to find Lydda’s scent again.
“Then you waste time,” he said. He dove from his rock straight at my head. I ducked. He pecked my left forepaw, then screeched in my ear and flew away. I leapt upon a low rock and whipped my head from side to side in case the raven returned for another attack. When I heard heavy wings retreating, I relaxed my guard and jumped down from the rock.
I sat in the center of the circle, closed my eyes, and waited. Nothing. No scent, no spiritwolf coming to me as she had done before. I don’t know what I had expected. I would have to call to her. Feeling a little foolish, I opened my eyes and spoke.
“Lydda?” I said aloud. “I need your help.”
Nothing. Then footsteps in the underbrush, but they were human footsteps, not wolf. TaLi’s grandmother, NiaLi, walked slowly into the clearing. Embarrassed to have been caught talking to no one, I lowered my ears.
“You are looking for the youngwolf who used to come from the spirit lands?” the old woman asked. “I sensed her nearby, too, and thought she might come here. Though she told me moons ago she could no longer come into this world.”
I could only look at her in surprise. Then I remembered that on the night TaLi and I had spied on the Speaking, Lydda had walked at NiaLi’s side. I also remembered that I had not greeted the old woman properly at the Great Plain and did so now, licking her hands to let her know I was glad she had survived the winter.
“She told me that, too,” I said. “But I need her.”
“You have not been able to find her?” The old woman stroked the fur between my ears.
“No,” I said.
NiaLi looked disappointed. “There are stories among the krianans of one who can travel between the worlds of life and death. When I saw you with the young spiritwolf at the Speaking, I thought you might be such a one. Perhaps you are and cannot yet find the way because you are not yet grown.” She sounded dubious.
“Why would I be able to do that?” I asked. Lydda had told me of one who could travel between the world of life and the world of death. I’d never thought it might be me.
“Because she came to you. Because no such spirit has come to the world of the living in my memory. Keep trying to find her, Kaala.” Although she called me Silvermoon when TaLi was near, she knew my real name and used it when we were alone. “The teachings of the krianans say that the traveler can discover things vital to ensuring that we learn to live as one with the world.”
A howl echoed off the boulders in the clearing. Ruuqo was calling us back early.
“I have to go,” I said.
“Don’t stop trying to find her, Kaala,” NiaLi said, taking my muzzle gently in her hand, her voice urgent. “If you are the traveler, we must know.”
She released me, turned away, and walked back into the woods. Astonished, I watched her go.