“Can anyone hear me?”
I would cover my ears and curl into a tight ball upon my pallet, but still his voice would ring in my mind. My father, true to his word, had sent warriors into the forest to search for Sun Eagle. But they had found nothing, not even the other end of the broken rope. He was lost forever. So why did I keep hearing that ghostly cry?
Then one night, deep in the coldest darkness of winter, it stopped, and I never heard it again. That night I made the signs of passing for my betrothed.
“May he walk safely through the void beyond the mountains,” I signed. “And may the Songs sing him to life.”
I could not say exactly what my feelings were at Sun Eagle’s loss. Horror. Guilt. Sorrow, I believe. I scarcely knew him. But I think had our lives been otherwise—had I not been a living curse—I might have made him a good wife.
Amid all those other feelings, however, there was one even stronger: relief.
I hated to admit it, but it was true. For now Sun Eagle was gone, I should not marry. And this was best. I knew it could not be long now.
It happened in late winter just on the verge of spring. The warriors were already beginning to gather to prepare for the spring sacrifices before marching off to war. It was the night before they set out on this long pilgrimage to make their blood offerings that we heard the sounds.
Just before sunrise, when the world was still dark but edged with the first gleams of light, I was startled from a restless sleep by frenzied animal screams. It was as though some creature was being torn apart. And rising with the screams of that luckless prey were hideous snarls. I had heard hunting dogs make similar noises, but never like this. I had even heard wolves calling in the night, and on one occasion, the haunting cry of a panther.
But this was unnatural. It was as loud as thunder, and it shook the earth! Whatever made that cry was a monster so great that even the ancient giants trembled in their stone sleep.
The screams of the first animal died, but then another took up its place. Something was among the cattle in one of the far fields, I realized. Something was among the cattle, going through them, slaughtering. Something vast, something the likes of which we had never seen before.
Fairbird lay beside me, her hands over her ears, her mouth open in a silent scream. I gathered her to me, and she, in her terror, pressed her face to my shoulder and bit down upon my gown. Her little teeth tore down to my skin, but I did not move her. I held her close and stroked her back but could not shield her from those unnatural sounds. They carried into the center of our spirits, ravishing all sense of safety or hope.
I knew then with absolute certainty: The Beast was come down from the mountains.
It seemed like hours later before I heard word. My father and his most trusted men ventured out to the far fields. There they found the Eldest’s great herd slaughtered. Not a cow was left alive. Not even those calves had been spared that had been isolated in preparation for the spring sacrifices.
The Eldest was stern and seemingly unafraid when he marched with his men back into the village and announced to his people what had transpired. Everyone had heard the evil sounds. Everyone knew that this could be no natural work, even those of us who had not witnessed the carnage firsthand. No pack of wolves, no matter how large or how vicious, could have made the sounds that had shattered the morning only a few hours ago.
“It is the work of some devil,” declared my father, yet his voice did not shake as he spoke. The sun shone down upon his tired face and made him look once more the strong and noble leader he had always been to his people, a man who would serve the needs of the nation before considering his own.
In all but one point.
I shivered and dared not draw near the crowd but remained out of sight, Fairbird held tightly by the hand. Frostbite had followed us, cringing, her tail tucked. She too was frightened by what she had heard. She was my loyal shadow, however, and would not be left behind.
“It is the work of some devil,” I heard my father say again. “But do not fear. We shall hunt it down! We shall stop this monster before the day is through!”
I watched how the people looked at each other; I saw the disbelief in their eyes. They knew this was not the truth. They knew, as did the Panther Master, though for the moment he refused to admit it.
Suddenly a deep laugh rumbled through the crowd. I watched as people parted, backing away nervously, clinging to each other, men and women, young and old. And through the gap they made, I saw Wolf Tongue.