“Two things struck me at once. First, it was large, larger in fact than the bear that now cringed from it. Secondly, its eyes. They looked into mine and I knew . . . It saw me, all of me, skin, bone, heart and soul. It saw me, and felt no malice at all.
“I heard a scraping sound and turned to see the bear fleeing into the night with all haste, the white shape soon swallowed by darkness. The wolf circled me for a short while, its gaze still fixed on me. For all the strangeness and the terror I still felt the great cold enfolding me, the sweat on my skin now frozen, leeching away what strength I had left. My vision began to dim and I knew death would soon claim me . . . Then the wolf growled.
“It was not a voice that came to my head then, more a certainty, an implacable conviction that I couldn’t die here. From somewhere I found the strength to stand and the wolf trotted away towards the north, stopping after a time to ensure I was following. I shuffled along in its wake for uncounted hours, or possibly days, for all sense of time seemed to fade. If I faltered, or felt the welling surge of despair that would tempt me to sink onto the ice where at least I could rest, the wolf would growl, and I would keep moving.
“We stopped when a green fire began to flicker in the sky. Not knowing what it was, I finally fell to my knees, thinking this a vision of death, or madness. Perhaps I had already died and my tutors had all been wrong; there is something awaiting us beyond the arc of life. All fear had left me by then, along with all but the most faint sensation, numbed as I was. Now there was only acceptance, a sense of a journey complete.
“And the wolf howled.”
Astorek closed his eyes and Vaelin felt Dahrena’s hand slide into his, knowing she too was recalling the wolf’s howl, that night in the forest when the Seordah heeded its call to war. He knew Astorek couldn’t describe how it felt, the sound that seemed to strip away everything but the core of those privileged, or cursed to hear it.
“I would have wept,” the young shaman said, reopening his eyes to regard his audience with a sombre smile. “Had not my tears been frozen in my eyes. The wolf’s howl faded and it looked at me, one last time, then was gone, bounding across the ice. I stared up at the fire in the sky for a time then lay down to sleep. Whale Killer must have found me only minutes later, for I was still alive to greet the next dawn.”
“And you have remained here ever since?” Vaelin asked. “Never tempted to return home?”
“What home would I return to? Everything I had is gone. Besides, when they returned the next summer, I learned full well the vileness of my former people. We knew of the Bear People’s great battle with the Cat People, that they had fled to the west in search of easier prey. The Wolf People were not sorry to see them gone from the ice, for they had fallen to unwise ways. But, though the Bear People had won a victory, their losses meant they couldn’t withstand another Volarian expedition, especially since the Volarians had learned their lessons well and came better equipped and in much greater numbers. When they were done with the Bear People they came for us.
“Many Wings had taught me much, and I was a very keen student. She had hoped to shield me from the struggle but I wanted to repay their kindness. We killed many Volarians together, my wolves and her hawks, striking where they were weakest, fleeing before they could strike back. For months we harried them until their line of march became a red smear across the ice. But there were always more, and, though I searched for him, I never caught Tokrev’s scent again. Two winters ago they stopped coming. We thought we had finally convinced them to leave us be, but it seems they went across the great water to torment your people instead, for which we are sorry.”
Vaelin’s gaze went to Kiral who gave a short nod. She hears no lie . . . as I heard no lie from Barkus.
“They will come again,” Astorek went on, eyes intent on Vaelin. “In greater numbers still. But now we have you, Raven’s Shadow.”
? ? ?
The hut where Alturk had chosen to seclude himself was a mean thing, little more than a slanting shack in a small clearing away from the main settlement. The door gave way easily under Vaelin’s boot, releasing the fetid odour of an unwashed man mired in overindulgence. Alturk’s substantial form lay on a bed of furs, snoring loudly, surrounded by the walrus-tooth flasks their hosts used to store pine ale, all empty. The slumbering Alturk gave no indication of having noticed the intrusion, something that changed abruptly when Vaelin emptied a bowlful of ice water over his shaggy head.