Wolf Hunting (56 page)

Blind Seer said,
“There was the owl, Night’s Terror. She is not far from here. She said she has remained in hopes of being reunited with her mate. Perhaps, like Onion and Half-Ear, she will be willing to go after her mate.”

Firekeeper translated, adding, “Owls are predator birds, and those night-sharp eyes would do well for us all. We have much time to the time of night when we will go. The copse no longer gives alarm. Let us go and find Night’s Terror.”

No one disagreed, but Onion and Half-Ear asked to go with the pair.

“It is long since we ran any distance. Let us stretch our legs and maybe hunt some decent game. Tonight’s venture is the fulfillment of a dream.”

The remainder agreed to take shifts watching the prisoners, and making preparations. Everyone was to eat well, then try to sleep.

Blind Seer reminded Firekeeper that she would need to sleep, too, but Firekeeper was glad to be away, out of the stronghold with its smells of spiders, mold, and dust.

“Time enough, dear heart,” she said when they had safely passed through the barriers to emerge onto the grassy plain. “First, let us find this owl.”

Night’s Terror had not shifted her roost, so they located her without great difficulty. The owl listened to their proposal from her shadowed nest within the hollow tree, her white face glimmering like some phosphorescent growth on a rotting log.

“You have found a means to cross to where they took the yarimaimalom,” Night’s Terror said when they had concluded their proposal. “Impressive.”

“Will you come with us, then?” Firekeeper asked. “Or if you cannot, is there another wingéd one to whom you can guide us?”

“I will go with you,” Night’s Terror said, “but only if you will have me after I tell you a certain tale.”

Blind Seer sat and scratched vigorously behind one ear. “This tale … you don’t think we’re going to like it?”

“I think I don’t like it,” Night’s Terror replied, “but I must tell it.”

Firekeeper climbed a neighboring tree so that she could be nearer to the owl. It felt good to be away from the dank stone of the old stronghold, out in the sun again.

“Talk, owl,” the wolf-woman said, leaning back against the trunk. “We will listen.”

“You have already heard how the strange things came from the old stronghold,” Night’s Terror began, “and how my mate vanished. That is all true. What is not true is that I did not know what happened to him. I did. I knew he was a captive.

“A human male emerged from the copse one night when I was flying around, hoping to find some trace of my mate. I admit, I was afraid to cross into those trees, afraid that I would not find Golden Feather, that the only result would be my joining the flocks of the vanished. When this human came out from the trees, I would have fled, but Golden Feather’s voice cried out to me.

“I banked air, nearly losing lift in my astonishment. Then I saw that the human held a cage dangling from one arm, and Golden Feather was packed into that cage.

“I rose in the air with no plan, nothing but the thought of breaking that man’s hold on the cage, and setting my mate free. But Golden Feather’s cry held me before I could begin my descent.

“‘Don’t, Night’s Terror. This cage is woven of blood briar. Even now the thorns are in my flesh. If the human ceases restraining them, they will drink me dry. The human has a proposal for you, beloved. Listen, if ever you wish me to fly again beside you.’

“What could I do? I brought myself into the human’s line of vision, perching upon a tree well outside of his grasp. He made no move to grasp me, but instead began to speak. I could not understand his words, but Golden Feather translated for me.”

Firekeeper guessed what the mysterious human would say, but she found she was holding her breath nonetheless.

“The human said he had a proposition for me,” Night’s Terror went on. “He said that he needed a watcher on the outside of the copse—a spy, to be completely honest. He was making his selection from among those creatures known to have strong pair bonds. He wanted a bird, because even a large bird can come and go relatively unseen. He had decided on a nightbird for the same reason.

“My task was to be simple. I would watch, and if any came to the area who seemed strange or different, I was to fly to the copse and land upon a certain tree. That would alert a human stationed within, and the human would choose what action to take. In return, once each moonspan Golden Feather would be brought forth so I could witness with my own eyes that he lived and breathed.

“If I refused, then Golden Feather would be killed, and his body flung out onto the plain so I would know how horribly he had died.

“I listened in increasing horror. There was my Golden Feather with his blood being drained from him, telling me what I must do to preserve his life—or so I thought at first. But, although the human trusted that Golden Feather could understand him, and that Golden Feather could translate for him, the human in turn could not understand what my beloved mate said. Thus he did not hear what Golden Feather told me at the last.

“‘Night’s Terror, you must not agree to this. I only agreed to come here so that I could urge you to fly free. I will die in peace knowing you are safe. Don’t you understand? They wish you to warn them of possible enemies—and those enemies are the only chance for freedom the captive yarimaimalom have. Moreover, I do not think these humans will be long content with this small plain. As soon as they are prepared, they will come forth in strength. I would not have you betray our peoples—not to preserve my life. Go. Warn the other yarimaimalom. Tell them bad times have come again.’”

Night’s Terror had puffed her feathers as she related her tale. Now she deflated so suddenly Firekeeper expected to feel a gust of wind. There was no wind, only a slender bird glimmering in the shadowed hollow.

“I couldn’t do it,” Night’s Terror said softly. “I couldn’t leave my mate to be tortured to death. To buy him life, even captive life, I spied for those who were my enemies. Each moonspan when they brought him out Golden Feather repeated his entreaty, telling me of some atrocity the humans had committed so I might realize that his one life meant little against anything that made these Old World humans stronger. He told me that if he could, he would kill himself so the humans would lose their hold over me, but that when he had tried to starve himself, they had forced food into him.

“For many moonspans, I had little enough to warn anyone about. The yarimaimalom had fled. The humans did not come here. Then one day I recognized purpose in the flight of a pair of ravens. For a moment I thought of confiding in them, but my heart nearly flew my breast at the thought of what the humans would do to my Golden Feather. How was I to know if I was the only watcher? Did they have other eyes watching from within the copse? Might my failure mean a horrible death for Golden Feather?

“Despise me if you will. I went into the copse, and sat in the appointed tree, and that night I said nothing when I saw the blood briars creep upward and begin to strangle the pair of ravens where they slept I watched the female battle for her mate’s life, but though I admired her courage, I could not go to her aid. My mate was wrapped in briars, too, and I think I even hated that raven a little. At least she could fight I could only betray.

“Now you ask me to fly with you, to be your third set of eyes, to carry information between your groups. I would go. I would risk my life to set my Golden Feather free, and if I cannot free him, I will die with him. But knowing the hold they have over me, can you trust me?”

Firekeeper glanced down to Blind Seer and found his blue eyes raised to hers. She knew his heart and spoke for them both.

“Night’s Terror, we know what it is to have your freedom taken from you because you dared make a true bond with another. Once not so long ago I swore that I had been pushed far enough, that never again would I let a hostage be used to force my actions. Wolves accept the risk that their mates may die in a hunt. Indeed, the Ones lead the pack and take the greatest risks. If I could be pressed hard enough to refuse any that power over me—even if it means that the only joy that would be left to me is revenge’s cold meat—who am I to deny you that same choice?”

“Then you will trust me?” the owl said.

“Enough that I will let you go with the group that is to free the captive yarimaimalom. Two wolves whose mates are held there run with that pack. I think you will find yourself in good company.”

Blind Seer rose onto all four paws and shook. Then he said to Night’s Terror, “I have one question for you. In your tale, the human never laid a hand on you. Did they bind you in any other way than through your obligations?”

“You mean did they ensorcell me?” Night’s Terror said. “No, they did not. Golden Feather warned me that they had skills in this way, and never did I let them touch me, nor have I been touched by any of their creations or plants. Whatever sorcery was done to make the copse let me enter and leave untouched was done to it, not to me. My mind and will are my own. It is my heart that is not.”

“Are any of our hearts our own?” Blind Seer asked softly. “Sometimes I think the only way we know we have hearts is when we lose them.”

Firekeeper leapt down from the tree and put her hand on the wolf’s head for just a moment. Then she looked up to the hollow.

“Come down and ride on my shoulder,” she said to Night’s Terror. “I am sure you have learned to move in light as I have within darkness, but still, this will be easier.”

Night’s Terror glided down. Her motion reminded Firekeeper of the thaumaturge Grateful Peace of New Kelvin when his glasses had been broken. There was another who had learned the hard lesson that keeping faith sometimes meant doing what your loved ones would despise.

Blind Seer howled for Onion and Half-Ear.

“We’d better rest,” the blue-eyed wolf said. “It’s going to be a very busy night.”

TRUTH WAS NAPPING, but only she knew how unrestful that sleep was. The Meddler had come to lounge within her dreams.

“So you’re going through the gate,” he said, “after my friends the twins.”

“After our friend, Plik,” Truth replied, burying her nose in her flank. “The twins … Well, they may be useful, but never make the mistake of thinking we are your lackeys.”

“A dangerous mistake that would be,” the Meddler said, and with her nose buried in her fur, Truth could not be certain whether or not he mocked her.

Truer than you imagine,
the jaguar thought, and in this dream space her words came forth as speech.

“What must I do to gain your trust?” the Meddler said. “Didn’t the map I gave you match on essential points with the details Harjeedian garnered for you from your prisoners? Haven’t I led you fair to this point? Haven’t I helped you?”

Truth gave up all pretense of sleeping, but rolled onto her back to groom her stomach.

“You have helped us, but always for your own reasons. I don’t understand those reasons. I don’t understand you.”

“But don’t the others have reasons?” the Meddler said. “All of them came to find the twins for reasons of their own. Noble reasons, certainly. I admire the desire to gain information that will enable homelands and hearths to be kept safe. Still, those remain reasons.”

“That is so,” Truth said. “Tell me your reasons and perhaps I will understand you.”

“I have told you. I wanted my freedom. Now I seek to repay you for your kindness in setting me free by offering a little information here and there—an elder’s perspective on events, you might say.”

“Gratitude is a reason, I suppose,” Truth said. “Yes. It can be a good reason, even. Gratitude is why Firekeeper first ventured to help me find the door back into myself.”

“Then you understand me now,” the Meddler said. “We are friends?”

“Friends trust each other,” Truth said. “I do not trust you.”

“But why? Haven’t I been open and honest with you?”

Truth sat perfectly still for a moment, focusing her will on remembering. “There remains one reason I will not trust you.”

“What? Tell me. Maybe I can give you a good answer and so make myself your friend.”

“I doubt it,” Truth said as at last she felt true sleep claiming her. “None who wished me for a friend would ever carve me in crystal and move me about as if I were nothing but a toy.”

XXVII

TO HIS SURPRISE, Derian was actually sleeping soundly when Firekeeper gently touched his shoulder and whispered, “Time is come to go.”

Derian sat up, scrubbing sleep from his eyes, and draining the mug of tepid water near his bedroll. He gathered his belongings and stacked them next to the wall. They were only taking what they thought they would need, and that wasn’t much: weapons, a few useful tools, copies of Harjeedian’s map.

They had decided to have a light meal before starting, but Derian noticed that neither he nor Harjeedian ate with much interest.

But then,
Derian thought,
Firekeeper looks as if she’s eating as a duty rather than otherwise. Only those new wolves—Onion and Half-Ear—seem to have any enthusiasm for the prospect. I wonder how a wolf came to be named “Onion”?

Had he been with a human army, Derian might have asked, tried to lighten the mood with frivolous conversation. Once again, Derian felt the difference of this company. Here three wolves the size of ponies and an equally disproportionate jaguar shredded some fresh fish. There a horse stood looking with genuine thoughtfulness at some gouges cut into the stone of the freshly swept courtyard floor. In the boughs of the apple tree, two ravens and an owl were deep in what was obviously conversation.

Harjeedian was drinking strong tea and surreptitiously trying the weight of the club he was carrying as a weapon. He had a bow as well, one of those that had been carried by the Twice Dead, but Derian hoped Harjeedian wouldn’t need to employ it as more than a threat The aridisdu knew how to use it, but he wasn’t very accurate.

When all was ready Firekeeper brought the prisoners forth. All of them had their hands bound behind their backs and their ankles hobbled. They made no protest, and not even a stumbling attempt to escape. Quite possibly, the three wolves flanking them and Truth’s lazy presence near the gate were enough warning.