Secrets of the Wolves (11 page)

“Why not?” I asked, annoyed to hear a whine in my voice. I had counted on the ravens’ support. How else would we get the humans to follow us?

One of the female ravens strode over to us. I’d heard Tlitoo call her Jlela.

“He has other things he must do,” Jlela said.

“Are you coming, Neja?” said the other female in a voice brash even for a raven.

“That is not my name, Nlitsa!” Tlitoo hissed. “I am Tlitoo, named for Tlitookilakin.” His voice rose. “I am the son of Sleekwing and Rainsong, born of the Small Willow Grove of the Wide Valley.”

Jlela lifted her wings. “Whatever you wish to call yourself, we must go. Unless you want to have the wolflets give you whining lessons?” She walked away, looked back at Tlitoo, and flew into the woods. Tlitoo watched her for a moment.

“I must go,” he said. “I must go to the other ravens.” His voice was so troubled I didn’t have the heart to argue with him. We would have to find another way to hunt with the humans.

“When will you be back?” I asked.

Tlitoo’s eyes found mine, and for the first time since I’d known him, I saw fear in them.

“I do not know, wolflet. I will find you when I can. I will help you if I can. But I do not know.” Before I could ask him more, ask him if I could help, he took flight, following the female ravens.

“There’s something’s going on with that bird,” Ázzuen said.

In the woods just across the stream from us, a raven shrieked. The ancient raven I had seen at the Stone Circle soared across the stream, flying so low that Ázzuen and I had to duck to avoid him.

I smelled juniper and smoke, the scent of the spiritwolf, Lydda. The scent seemed to well up from the stream itself. I darted to the water’s edge, and the scent rose into the air and wafted across the stream. I saw a flash of a tail disappearing into the woods beyond. The scent disappeared.

“Kaala!” Ázzuen said. “We have to go.”

“I know,” I said. I wanted to follow the scent but Ruuqo and Rissa would be waiting for us. Slowly, I began to make my way along the stream, back toward the river and Fallen Tree.

E
veryone was napping in the late morning sun when we arrived, so I sank down into the pack-smelling earth and slept. I dreamt of the young spiritwolf. I dreamt that she came into the world of life to stay and that she helped me with the humans. In my dream I was so happy that someone else, someone older and smarter, had taken on the humans. Then the spiritwolf’s face turned into my mother’s face, looking down at me and smiling. When Ázzuen poked me awake with sharp jabs of his nose, I was furious with him for interrupting a dream of my mother.

“Someone’s coming, Kaala,” he said, when I awoke growling at him. “A stranger wolf.”

I came more fully awake to see that every wolf in the pack was standing, watching the gap between the two large oaks that guarded Fallen Tree. Werrna barked, half in welcome, half in warning. No one was upset or growling; they all watched in anticipation as a wolf I didn’t know crept to the edge of Fallen Tree, stopped, and waited. The wolf smelled of Swift River and was giving off a scent of friendliness and entreaty. Rissa’s tail began to wag.

The stranger walked into Fallen Tree. He was a dark gray wolf who looked to be the about the same age as Yllin and Minn, and the Swift River scent was strong upon him. Yllin gave a small yip but stood still, waiting for the new wolf to greet Ruuqo and Rissa. The wolf was clearly Swift River, but I didn’t know if he had left by choice or if he’d been forced from the pack, if he was a wolf in good standing or an exile. He stopped four wolflengths away from the leaderwolves and lowered himself to his belly. He was sleek and healthy, and he smelled of plants and animals I did not know.

Ruuqo dipped his head the slightest bit, and the young wolf darted forward. Ruuqo’s tail began to wave, and Rissa dipped down onto her elbows, her hindquarters raised high in the air. The young wolf bounded toward them, and Ruuqo and Rissa ran to meet him. The three wolves leapt and danced around each other. Trevegg darted forward and knocked the visiting wolf onto his back, stood on his belly, and licked his face.

“Welcome home, Demmen,” he said. The youngwolf laughed, licked Trevegg in greeting, and got to his feet.

“He was our littermate,” Yllin whispered to me. “He left right before you pups were born to see what was outside the valley. I thought we’d never see him again.”

I wanted to greet the youngwolf, too, to ask him of life outside the valley. I crept forward, followed by Ázzuen and Marra. An instant later, Yllin and Minn bolted past us, almost knocking us over, and leapt upon Demmen. The three young-wolves wrestled for several moments, then stood, shaking mud from their fur. Yllin reared up and placed her paws on Demmen’s back. She was a dominant wolf and wanted to prove it. Demmen whoofed good-naturedly and slipped out from under her, pawing at her chest. They rolled each other over a few times and then stopped, panting, neither of them having won the dominance match.

“I thought you would be as fat as a swamp pig in summer, Demmen, now that you can keep all the greslin for yourself.”

“The prey run faster outside the valley, Yllin,” Demmen said.

Yllin ducked her head uncertainly, as if unsure if Demmen was making fun of her or not. For the first time since I’d known her, Yllin seemed a little flustered, as if overawed by this youngwolf who had seen the outside of the Wide Valley.

We pups came forward shyly. After looking to Ruuqo and Rissa for permission, Yllin introduced us.

“This is Demmen,” she said, “the biggest prey hog in the valley. Don’t let him near your greslin. Demmen, these are Swift River’s surviving pups: Kaala, Ázzuen, Marra, and Unnan.” I was surprised that she had mentioned Ázzuen second. Wolves were introduced in order of dominance, and Ázzuen had so recently been the weakest wolf in the pack.

We pelted Demmen with questions. What was it like outside the valley? Where had he been? Why did the Greatwolves allow him back? Was he staying? He patiently answered most of our questions and deliberately ignored others.

“Four strong pups who survived the winter,” he said when we’d all paused to catch our breath. “My compliments, Rissa. I know of no other pack that kept more than three alive this year,” he said formally. She grinned at him.

“We have been fortunate,” she said.

“How many in the litter?” he asked. “When I left you had not yet pupped. And where are Neesa and her young?”

My whole body went cold and heavy. I found myself wanting to shake hard, as I did when my fur was drenched with water and mud. All around me there was silence. Neesa was my mother. Demmen should have been able to smell that.

“I’m so sorry,” Demmen said, his ears low. “I’ve asked something I should not have asked.”

“It is not something you could have known of,” Rissa said. “Marra, Ázzuen, and Unnan are three of the six pups I bore. Kaala is Neesa’s daughter, and the only one of her litter to survive.” She paused. “Neesa has left the pack.”

She did not say that my mother had been driven from the pack, or that Ruuqo had killed my three sisters and my brother. I kept my eyes lowered. There were times when I would go weeks at a time without thinking of my mother or my lost littermates. I had been so busy with the humans, I had not been battered down by despair for nearly a moon. I had done my best
not
to think about them because whenever I did, a cloud of sorrow and bitterness would descend upon me, making everything seem heavy and dark. It might find me as I was hunting smallprey, or as Ázzuen, Marra, and I were running the territory. A scent of damp earth and pine roots would remind me of my mother’s den, or an expression on Ázzuen’s face would make me think of my lost brother, Triell, and I would suddenly find it hard to move, so weighed down would I be by misery. Sometimes it wasn’t a heaviness, but rather an emptiness in my chest or a shadow darkening my vision. I always pushed it away. It was worst when I thought of my mother, so I had done my best to stop thinking about her. When Demmen mentioned her name, I felt as if all the sadness I had been trying to avoid slammed into me. I closed my eyes for a moment, forcing it away, and made myself pay attention to the pack.

Something about the youngwolf’s demeanor made me think he was not surprised by what Rissa had told him. His smell was all wrong. Tension in a pack is upsetting, and his scent should have reflected remorse or anxiety at the distress his remarks had caused. It didn’t. He was calm, almost calculating. His eyes rested on me for just a moment too long before he licked Rissa’s muzzle in sympathy.

“I am sorry for your loss,” he said.

He took in Ruuqo’s rigid stance and Rissa’s sadness and the discomfort of the entire pack. He shook himself and opened his mouth in a smile.

“I scent that the snow deer have not yet left the valley for winter’s end. Do you hunt them tonight?”

“We do,” Ruuqo said. “You will join us for the hunt.” It was a statement rather than a question.

“I would be honored,” he said. “Perhaps in the meantime, your pups can reacquaint me with Swift River territory. I understand you have reclaimed Gale Hill from the Stone Peaks since I left.”

Ruuqo nodded his permission, and Demmen trotted from the gathering place, looking over his shoulder at us pups.

Ázzuen, Marra, and Unnan pelted after him. I did not. I wanted nothing more to do with this wolf who so casually reminded me of my lost mother and littermates. I was sneaking away to be alone with my thoughts when Tlitoo landed in front of me with a thump. He smelled of warm rocks and of other ravens. Even more of his feathers were coming out, sticking out at odd angles from his wings and back.

“Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere else?” I snarled at him. “I thought you couldn’t be bothered with helping us.”

“Go with them, wolflet,” he said. “There is a raven watching the humans for you. An old raven that none of the others will miss. I have made sure it is so. But you must go with the strangerwolf, now. It is important.” He darted forward, as if to pull out a tuft of my underfur, then stopped just short of my chest. “Unless you would rather stand here and whine.”

I looked around Fallen Tree to see Ruuqo, Rissa, and Trevegg watching me with looks of pity on their faces. Yllin and Minn wrestled with each other, excited by Demmen’s visit, and totally oblivious to my feelings. Werrna watched me coldly, probably still thinking about her moon-cursed bird. I certainly didn’t want to be with any of them. I would have gone off to be by myself, but I knew Tlitoo would just harass me if I tried. He was pacing in front of me, pecking at the dirt, even though there were no insects or worms to be seen.

Pushing away the sorrow that was still trying to overwhelm me, I found the scent trail left by Demmen and the others and followed it. Tlitoo quorked with what sounded like relief and followed me, flying just low enough to avoid the branches of the spruce trees.

I found them at the birch grove, watching a family of lizards scurrying for cover. Marra was gulping down one that hadn’t scurried quite fast enough. Unnan was standing in front of Demmen, his tail waving.

“This is where I caught a hare two moons ago,” Unnan said. “Ruuqo told me I had the best reactions of any pup in the pack.” Demmen bent his head to listen to Unnan, giving off an approving scent. Unnan’s chest swelled with pride. Marra and Ázzuen watched with disgust. Demmen looked up from Unnan when I walked into the grove.

“You’re Kaala,” he said. “You’re the one who’s not of Rissa’s litter.”

“She’s one of us,” Ázzuen snapped as Unnan smirked.

“She was barely allowed to stay in the pack.” The smugness in Unnan’s voice made me want to bite him, but I didn’t think Demmen would let me get away with it. He clearly liked Unnan. It made me sorry I’d come. “There are wolves in the valley who think she shouldn’t have been allowed to live,” Unnan continued. “They say she’s unlucky.”

My lips pulled back as Demmen looked at me. Tlitoo gave a krawk of warning. I expected him to fly at Unnan, but it was me he was watching.

“I see,” Demmen said, taking in the tension between Unnan and the rest of us. “So, tell me, what are the best places to hunt smallprey in Swift River territory this season?”

“I’ll show you,” Unnan said. “These three spend so much time being curl-tails to the humans that they barely know what it is to be a wolf, much less what the best parts of their own lands are.” Unnan took off at a trot with Demmen beside him.

I stayed where I was. Ázzuen and Marra stayed, too.

“Aren’t you going with him?” I asked. “You don’t have to wait here just because I do.”

Marra stretched her long, lean body. “I don’t like the company he keeps. Let’s go see if there are any voles to catch at Dry Knoll.”

A soft rustling of leaves alerted us a moment before Demmen returned. Without Unnan.

“That one reminds me of Minn when we were pups,” he said, shaking leaves from his fur. “Yllin and I used to dunk him in the river when he behaved that way. I have left him searching for walking bird tracks, which should keep him busy.”

I looked at Demmen in astonishment. The overly formal, condescending behavior that had so annoyed me had been replaced by a sharp focus and straightforward manner. I had never known a wolf who could so quickly change his demeanor. I couldn’t help but wonder which attitude was real.