Authors: Michelle Paver,Geoff Taylor
Tags: #Good and evil, #Death, #Animals, #Wolves & Coyotes, #Juvenile Fiction, #Philosophy, #Prehistoric peoples, #Battles, #Fiction, #Voyages and travels, #Good & Evil, #Prehistory, #Adventure fiction, #Historical, #Fantasy & Magic, #Demoniac possession, #Friendship, #Murder, #Enemies
But
why?
This was not what a wolf does. This--this was not-wolf.
232
Worry clawed at Wolf's belly. He savaged a branch. He ran in circles.
Tall Tailless had heard him. He stooped and whined.
Come to me, pack-brother. I need you!
Wolf whimpered. He backed away.
Then he is not-wolf,
the lead wolf had sternly replied. Wolf had known the leader was wrong, but he hadn't dared protest. But now. Tall Tailless rose on his hind legs and came toward Wolf, his face puzzled.
Why won't you come to me?
His face ...
Not like a wolf.
It crashed upon Wolf with the force of a falling tree, the knowledge that had been stalking him for many Lights and Darks. Tall Tailless was not-wolf. A pain such as Wolf had never known bit deep into his heart. Not even when he was a cub on the Mountain 233 and missing Tall Tailless terribly, not even then had he felt such pain. Tall Tailless was not-wolf. Not wolf.
Tall Tailless was nor wolf.
234
I thought you knew,
said Torak in wolf talk. Wolf backed away, his amber eyes clouded with misery.
Oh, Wolf. I thought you knew.
Whimpering, Wolf turned tail and fled.
The trees stirred in the wind, whispering,
Hurry,
235
hurry.
Already Thiazzi might have reached the sacred grove. He might have woken another fire and sunk a stake into its heart. He might be dragging Renn toward it....
The Blackwater was implacable. His muscles burned. He deserved it.
Through the trees, he glimpsed the glow of the Deep Forest camp. But the river was barred. A wovenbark net stretched from bank to bank.
Suddenly, he froze. Through the soles of his boots, he caught a faint tremor in the earth.
He sank to his knees and placed both palms on the ground. Had he really felt it? Was it heading toward him?
Maybe, after all, there
was
a way.
***
236
Wolf felt the earth shudder beneath his paws, but still he loped. He smelled that he was heading toward the Bright Beast-bitten lands. He didn't care. At last thirst scratched his throat and he had to stop. He found a little Still Wet and snapped some up. Then he raised his muzzle and howled his misery to the Forest. Tall Tailless was not wolf.
Tall Tailless was not Wolf's pack-brother.
Wolf no longer
had
a pack-brother.
Wolf was alone.
The shuddering beneath his pads grew stronger. Listlessly, Wolf recognized it as the pounding of many hooves.
As Wolf stood with drooping tail at the edge of the Still Wet, he saw the wolf who lives in the Wet gazing up
237
Darkfur stood very still, waiting to see what Wolf would do.
Wolf, too, kept very still. His claws dug into the mud. His pelt tingled with excitement.
Darkfur twitched her tail.
Wolf lifted his muzzle and sniffed.
Slowly, Darkfur raised her foreleg and pawed his shoulder.
They touched noses.
Wolf seized her scruff in his jaws. She lashed her tail and whined, showing him her belly. He released her, and now they were rolling and tumbling in a muddy 239
blur of fur and fangs. In and out of the Wet they chased each other, Wolf making fast little greeting snaps at her flanks, Darkfur whimpering with delight and snapping him back. She leaped high, her black pelt glittering with Wet, then twisted around and body-slammed him, and he chased her over the rise and down again, snuffing her fierce, strong scent, the most beautiful scent he'd ever smelled.
Now she was pawing some leaves off the Wet and they were snapping it up, then slumping together for a rest. Panting, she told him how she'd missed him, so she'd left the pack to find him. After many Lights and Darks and much sniffing and listening, she'd howled for him and thought he'd howled back, but then the Bright Beast had eaten all the scents.
Wolf shut his eyes and heard the soft wind ruffling her fur. He felt surprised and happy and sad.
Darkfur was clever, and quick to sense what he was feeling.
Why are you sad?
she asked.
Where is the one who has no tail?
Wolf jumped up and shook himself.
He is not wolf. He is not my pack-brother.
Darkfur twitched one ear in puzzlement.
But we played together. He was your pack-brother. This can't be.
Wolf trotted back and forth. He found an interesting stick and dropped it before her as a present.
Darkfur ignored it. She rose and nose-nudged his
240
shoulder.
Do you remember when the cubs tried to eat his overpelt and you stopped them PAnd I gave him a fish-head?
Wolf turned his muzzle into the wind, and the horse scent flowed over his nose. The herd must have halted as soon as Darkfur stopped chasing. It wasn't far off. Darkfur bounded into the trees, wagging her tail.
Come!
Then she was loping after the horses, a sleek black wolf flying through the nettles. Hunger woke up in Wolf's belly. He forgot his pain and raced after her.
As soon as they'd passed, Torak gave a piercing whinny.
He heard the slap of horseflesh on horseflesh as they skittered into one another, then an answering whinny.
Torak stepped onto the trail and waited.
Bracken stirred. He heard a snort. A stamp. A sleek black head pushed through.
The lead mare halted twenty paces away from him. Her flanks were heaving, her nostrils flared.
He nickered to reassure her.
She tossed her head.
In a low, gentle tone, he began to talk. "You've smelled me before, remember? I helped a foal back to the herd. You know I mean no harm." Her ears swiveled to catch his voice, but her head stayed nervously high, and she swung her hindquarters around toward him.
Stay back. I kick!
Slowly he walked toward her, talking, not taking his gaze from her, but not alarming her with a direct stare.
242
had known what it was to be horse. And she knew that he knew.
"I know," he said, moving nearer. "I know."
She sidestepped and swished her tail. No man had ever gotten this close.
A shiver rippled from her withers to her tail, and she gave a snorty blow of pleasure.
"I'm your friend," he told her. "You know that, don't you:
Still finger-nibbling, he worked his way up her neck, and she turned her head and gently nipped his shoulder, returning the greeting.
His hand moved down to her withers, and he grasped a handful of mane.
Then he did what no one in all the clans had ever done before.
He vaulted onto her back.
243
The mare gave an outraged squeal and did her best to buck Torak off. He clung to her mane and hooked his legs in front of her belly. She reared--maybe
that
would rid her of this infuriating burden--but he flung himself forward and gripped with his thighs. She launched into a gallop, nearly wrenching his arms from their sockets. He slithered about on her broad, slippery back, just managing to stay on. She made for a low-hanging branch. He ducked. Twigs scraped his back. He stayed low in case she tried that again. 244
Another fallen tree rushed toward him, and he threw himself against the mare's neck just before she jumped. Mud splattered his face as she landed in a bog, sinking up to her hocks. She struggled to free herself, and he leaned forward to help her. Her hindquarters gave a tremendous heave and they were out, flushing grouse from the rushes in a gobbling flurry.
Or not by Torak.
A familiar
cark!
overhead, and Rip and Rek swooped, their talons almost grazing the mare's rump before flicking skyward.
246
Startled, she jerked up her head, and behind her the herd snorted in alarm. Again the ravens swooped. The mare sidestepped, showing the whites of her eyes. But it wasn't only the ravens, Torak realized. She'd caught a scent she feared.