Spirit of the Wolves (9 page)

“You have done well, youngwolf,” he said. “Thank you for bringing the drelwolf to us.”

Lallna lowered her ears to Navdru, but her tail wagged. Her status in the pack would almost certainly rise considerably. When Navdru released her, she grinned at me and bounded into the woods.

The copse was almost silent. I could hear Tlitoo's low quorking and the heavy breathing of my mother and my packmates. I tried to loosen the muscles in my chest.

“I cannot fault a mother for wishing to protect her pup,” Navdru said, inclining his head to Neesa. “As for you, youngwolves, I admire your willingness to fight for yourselves.” He nodded to me and my packmates. His manner had changed and he spoke to me kindly but firmly, with the assurance of a leaderwolf addressing a member of his pack.

“I did not begin well. We have been waiting a long time for the drelwolf.” He softened his muzzle. “We waited for you because if we cannot fulfill the Promise now, we may have no other chance.” He let that sink in. “There is a human village twenty minutes' lope from here, and what happens there may very well determine whether we succeed or fail.”

His mate, Yildra, spoke for the first time, her voice deep and rumbling. “The humans of Kaar are making a choice between two ways of being, youngwolves. Some think that humans are one creature among many. Others believe that humans are different, that the Ancients have given them the
task of ruling every creature, every forest, every plain. They believe that the larger their village grows, the more power they have. And they have taken over many villages as proof.”

“It was starting to be that way at home, too,” I said. The humans were so arrogant. A wolf feels responsible for her territory. She must ensure that prey is not hunted so much that entire herds flee, and has the right to fight any wolves who try to invade the pack's territory. But she does not stray beyond the confines of her own land, and if she does, she does so with deference to the wolves who guard that territory. To think oneself the leaderwolf of all creatures seemed like the ravings of a mad wolf.

“The decisions are being made everywhere humans live,” Navdru said. “But Kaar holds great influence. It's the most powerful village for as far as any wolf has run or raven has flown. As goes Kaar, so will go the other humans. And if the humans choose to be rulers of all creatures, we will lose our chance to sway them, for they will see no wisdom outside their own thoughts and beliefs. They will see other creatures only as either enemies or tools.”

“Which is why you should not have run away like a skittering mouse, youngwolf.” The harsh, rasping voice came from above. The old human krianan, RalZun, was perched on the pine branch next to Tlitoo. A rustling drew my gaze to the higher branches of the trees, where several more ravens stood, warbling softly.

RalZun jumped down and gave Navdru a jerky bow. The Greatwolf dipped his head to the old human. The human krianans and the Greatwolves of the Wide Valley had once
worked together toward the Promise. The ones in Sentinel lands evidently still did.

“I would have brought her to you, Navdru, but she ran off.” He glared at me. “You are no longer a pup, free to be concerned only with herself,” he snapped.

I lifted my lip to him. He wasn't my leaderwolf.

“The humans at the big village like wolves, don't they?” Ázzuen blurted, his ears twitching. “It makes sense, Kaala.” His silvery eyes met mine. “TaLi's village wanted to use us to steal territory from other villages. That's why we're here, isn't it?” he challenged Navdru.

Navdru looked disconcerted.

“They like wolves,” he confirmed. “Or, rather, they like what we can do for them. Wolves have lived with them before, helping them hunt and protecting their lands. It is one of the reasons they have grown so strong.”

“They see us as tools,” Yildra said, “and if they find us to be useful enough tools, they will do a great deal to keep us. Once they have welcomed us—welcomed you—as pack, we can help them understand that they are creatures of the wild like we are, and that they are no different from the world around them.”

“But we will not allow any wolf to go to them unless we can be assured that the humans will not stray farther from the Balance as a result,” Navdru rumbled.

“How is Kaala supposed to do that?” Pell rumbled back. Marra growled softly.

It was RalZun who answered, looking pleased with himself. “I have told the leaders of Kaar that wolves will only come back to the village if a krianan brings them. They are choosing a new krianan at their Spring Festival on Even Night.”

“They care about Even Night?” Ázzuen asked. It intrigued me, too, that the humans sometimes marked time the same way we did.

RalZun dipped his head. “It is how they celebrate the beginning of spring and autumn. They used to understand that they shared traditions with other creatures. Now they imagine that only they have such ceremonies. There are those among them who believe that the krianan's role is to lead humans away from the natural world, to set them as far apart from other beasts as possible.” He waved his arms at Navdru and Yildra. “That is why my friends here will allow you to go to the human village to try one more time.” Then the old man grinned. “If the humans wish to have you wolves help them in their hunts and in guarding their homes, they must choose the krianan I recommend, and thus follow the old ways.”

“TaLi,” I said. “You want TaLi to be their krianan. You told NiaLi to send her here without saying why.” I didn't like that he was putting TaLi in danger.

“I called her to her duty as you are called to yours.”

I growled at him. He was as manipulative as a Greatwolf.

Navdru poked me in the chest with his nose. I coughed.

“Do you accept this duty, youngwolf?” he demanded.

I'd thought that once I found my mother, she would tell me what to do, and I could go home and let grown wolves take responsibility for what came next. Now a pack of Greatwolves who had tried for generations to control the humans wanted me to do what they could not.

Ázzuen whuffed to me. I met his eyes. They were warm with encouragement.

“Yes, I accept,” I said to Navdru. It wasn't as if I had a choice. The alternative was to be killed, along with those I loved.

“Good,” the Sentinel leader said. “But, listen to me. You must not be submissive to the humans. Have you been so with your human girl? Ever? Even to keep her from becoming angry?”

“No,” I answered. “We're equals.”

“And did that cause trouble?” Yildra asked. “Did the humans react badly to you when you were not docile?”

I thought of DavRian thrusting his spear into my haunch, of NiaLi lying dead in her shelter. I looked at Milsindra out of the corner of my eye. She would contradict me, but my packmates would support me, and it would be our word against hers.

“No,” I lied, “they didn't.” Instead of challenging me, Milsindra whuffled a laugh and lay down, her face resting in her paws. I wondered what she was up to.

“You must not submit to them here, youngwolf. If you are their curl-tails, you will have failed. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I said, though I wasn't sure I did. No one had been able to explain to me why it was so bad to be submissive to the humans, other than that it made us less than wolf. I looked up into Navdru's tawny eyes. “What happens if we fail?”

“You know what happens,” he answered. “You and those of your blood must be killed.”

Milsindra rumbled in agreement. Pell growled, and Ázzuen and Marra echoed him. I looked away. It was no different from the threat Milsindra had made.

“I am not the sort of wolf to kill those weaker than I,” Navdru said, sounding ashamed, “but we have no choice.” To my astonishment, he seemed to be asking me for forgiveness.

“It is to protect wolfkind that we must be so harsh,” he said. “If you cannot find a way to control the humans, we will leave these lands and go somewhere the humans cannot find us. Thus we will keep wolfkind safe, along with the wildness that is our legacy. That may be enough to stop the humans. There are those among us who believe that without our help, the humans will breed too quickly and starve themselves to death, or fall victim to other creatures of the wild, who despise them. Others among us believe it is too late and that the humans are already too strong. That is why we are giving you a chance to try one last time to change them. If you succeed, we will find a way to reward you.”

“What about the wolves back in the Wide Valley?” Marra asked. I could feel her trembling next to me. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye and saw that it was fury, not fear, that made her shake.

“If you succeed, we will not harm them. What happens between them and the humans is up to them.”

I was getting angry, too. I was tired of being manipulated by wolf and human krianan alike. But I kept my face still. Navdru seemed to approve of what he saw in me, for he gave me a small smile. Then his face grew serious again.

“You have until Even Night, youngwolf.” He looked over his shoulder to RalZun, who had leapt up on a tall rock.

“Take them to Kaar,” he said. He whuffed to the wolves around him and loped into the woods.

One by one, the other Sentinels began to follow. My mother started toward me. Yildra nipped her on the shoulder. “You'll stay with us, Neesa,” she said. “This is the pup's task, not yours.”

My mother's legs stiffened with defiance. Then she dipped her head to the Greatwolf. “Find me if you need me, Kaala,” she said. “I am not permitted near the humans, but the Sentinels cannot stop me from giving you advice.” She ran forward, licked the top of my head, and darted after the other wolves.

Milsindra was the last to leave. “I'll be waiting for you when you fail, Kaala.” She lifted her lip in a snarl, then bounded away.

RalZun clouted me on the head. He ignored Pell and Ázzuen, who growled at him.

“I have told the humans you are here. They are curious and wish to hunt with you. If you prove yourselves in the hunt, they might allow you into the village. Just a few of you at first. They will meet us for the hunt tomorrow at dawn. If you run away again, I will feed you to the first rock bear I find.”

With that, he stalked into the woods. Weary from fear, anger, and the enormity of my task, I could think of nothing else to do but follow.

S
ome hunts fail and some succeed. Every wolf knows that. This hunt, however, could not fail. We had twenty days to influence the humans of Kaar, twenty days and nights to get TaLi, whom they did not know, accepted as their krianan. We could make no mistakes.

On a grassy, dawn-lit plain replete with elk and rich with their musky scent, a gathering of at least twenty humans stood watching us. RalZun led TaLi, BreLan, and MikLan across the plain to join them. We four wolves flopped down on our bellies where the trees met the plain to assess the humans as well as the elk we were to hunt. The humans clutched their spears and the antler-bone sticks they used so that they could throw the spears long distances. They smelled of anticipation and the eagerness of the hunt, but not of the fear or suspicion I was accustomed to in humans who didn't know us well. The elk shifted their gaze nervously from the humans to us and then back again.

I should have been worried, but as I watched the humans preparing for their hunt and inhaled the enticing scent of uneasy prey, I was hopeful. We had hunted with our humans many times. It was something I knew we could do well.

The humans were murmuring to one another, and I was struck, not for the first time, by their odd appearance. No other creatures stood always on their hind legs, and when I'd first seen the humans, I'd wondered that they could balance without tipping over. I'd come to understand that their two-legged stance allowed them to use their tools with their clever hands, but it still disturbed me. Bears reared up on their hind legs to threaten, as did some prey. When I first met the humans I'd thought they were always challenging us.

They also had much less fur than we did. It grew on their heads, on the adult males' faces, and in patches on their bodies. I found myself staring at one male in particular who had absolutely no fur at all on his head. He caught me watching him and glared at me with a sudden, fierce hatred. Then his features smoothed out and he looked as mild as a sleeping oldwolf.

The wind carried a strong gust of elk scent to us. Blood rushed so quickly to my head that I grew dizzy and my haunches began to twitch. My body warmed. As the call to hunt pounded in my blood, I wished I could leave the humans behind and hunt with my packmates, to chase the prey until it could run no more and bring it down with sharp teeth and strong jaws. I could almost taste the elk flesh on my tongue. I shook myself hard. This was not just any hunt; it was our chance to begin winning over the humans. If we succeeded, they would give us the chance to prove our worth—and
TaLi's. If we did not, we would have failed before we'd begun and the Sentinels would kill us. Suddenly I was as nervous as a pup chasing her very first prey.

I heard a familiar whoosh of wings. Tlitoo alighted above us on a low spruce branch. The ravens were excellent hunting partners, distracting prey and keeping watch for danger as we ran the ground below.

“You'll help us?” I asked before I saw that he wasn't alone. Jlela was perched next to him, preening Tlitoo's wing feathers.

He ran his beak through her head feathers before answering.

“I will not,” he said. “The humans are interested in what wolves can do for them, not ravens.”

I glared up to tell Tlitoo that the humans would never notice a raven or two helping us, but he avoided my gaze. He twined his neck around Jlela's, and they were warbling softly to each other. Jlela ran her beak from Tlitoo's head down to his tail feathers.

“I don't think they'll be much help right now,” Pell said, a laugh in his voice. But when I looked at him there was a strange intensity in his gaze. “It's spring, after all.”