Wolf-Speaker Page 12

  “Of course,” Maura replied scornfully. “It’s as plain as the nose—” She stopped just in time. The rest, “on your face,” didn’t seem tactful.

  Daine whooped and stood up, nearly braining herself on the rock overhead. Going outside, she grabbed Maura by the hands and danced her around, laughing.

  “I’m not crazy!” she cried. “I’m not mad! It’s real! The changes are real!” She skidded to a halt, realizing something. “I think the badger knew this would happen. He said I’d be surprised.” She touched her face, but it was human again. “Odd’s bobs. Could I make the whole change? Change entirely into an animal? That would be wondrous.”

  “Don’t ask me,” replied Maura. “Do you know how it happens?”

  “No, but I’ll find out.” There was a screech overhead. Daine looked up in alarm, but the caller was only a hawk. “‘And here we are, dancing in the open like idiots. Let’s get under cover, and decide how we’ll eat tonight.” She trotted back toward the caves, Maura and Kitten behind her.

  “I should have brought food and stuff,” Maura complained, panting as she ran. “I didn’t stop to think about anything like that. I just wanted to get out of there and get word to the king.”

  “Are you sure you can’t go home now?” asked Daine. “You know that help is on the way, and you’ll get proper food.” She glanced at her friend. Maura’s face was set. “I can’t be attending you, you know. Numair wants me to count the soldiers in the forts—unless you know how many there are.”

  Maura shook her head. “They never talked about anything like that around me. If they had, I’d’ve gotten help a long time ago.”

  “But wouldn’t you rather be sleeping on a soft bed under warm blankets? Not to mention your servants being afeared for you.” They had reached the entrance cave. Once inside, they slowed to a walk.

  “You don’t understand,” Maura said, catching her breath. “If you’re noble and you find treason, and you live with the plotters or go to their parties or marry into their family or anything, then you are just as guilty as they are.”

  “You’re only ten,” Daine argued, taking all of her remaining supplies from her packs. “Surely no one’s going to haul a child up before the Lord Provost.”

  Maura sat by the fire pit. “My father said the laws were written long ago, when times were simpler. They used to hang children for stealing bread, did you know that? Some things have changed, but not chivalry and the nobles’ duties. That’s what makes me mad. Yolane was raised the same as me. She knows what’s right and wrong, but she doesn’t care. By law Dunlath can be plowed up and sown with salt, and our people made to leave, but does she care? No. She’d rather risk lives and our home so she can wear a crown and order people around.”

  Daine patted her friend’s arm. “She won’t get that chance, and nothing’s going to happen to Dunlath. You trust Master Numair. He’ll fix it.”

  Maura smiled crookedly. “It isn’t him—I don’t know him at all. You’re the one I trust.”

  Daine hunted and fished until dark, gathering enough food to ensure that Maura would eat properly. Fish would do for that night, with rice from her supplies. The game birds could be baked in clay for Maura to have later. Kitten found mushrooms and blueberries, which would make pleasant additions. When they returned to the caves, Tkaa was there.

  “He is under cover, natural and magical, for the night,” the basilisk said as the girls began to cook. “I promised him that I would stay with Lady Maura.”

  The ten-year-old grinned. “I’d like that.” Seeing the pleasure in her face, it was hard to believe that one day ago she had screamed upon seeing him. “The wolves still make me nervous.” When Daine glanced at her, she shrugged. “I’m sorry, they just do. Speaking of them, where have they been all day?”

  “Hunting, I s’pose,” Daine replied. “Some days it takes longer than others.” She tried to remember when she last saw the pack, and realized it had been the evening before. “They’ll be back when they’ve fed.”

  She was dishing up the rice and fish when she saw Tkaa reach into a pouch in the skin of his belly. “Did I know you had that?” she asked, curious.

  “One does not expect the very young to know a great deal,” he replied. He drew several chunks of rock from the pouch and placed them near the small pile of stones that was to be his own meal. “Dessert,” he explained in his soft voice, when he saw that the girls, Kitten, and Cloud watched him intently.

  “The birds and the rice and the rest of my supplies will hold you whilst I’m gone,” Daine told Maura as they ate, wincing as Tkaa crunched his meal. “You’ll be fine here. Tkaa will be with you, and Kitten.” The young dragon, wrinkling her muzzle at Tkaa’s idea of food, nibbled daintily on a trout.

  “Wolves—?” Maura started to ask, voice quivering. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to whine. Only, all my life I was told wolves will eat me. It’s hard to forget.”

  “But you think Stormwings are fine.” Daine knew she kept returning to that point, but she couldn’t help herself. She had battled them for so long that it was well-nigh impossible to see them as anything but foul.

  “Not all of them. The one that called you a Stormwing killer and some of the others can be nasty. But Lord Rikash takes me flying sometimes.”

  Daine gaped. “Flying?”

  “Yes. They made a rope sling for me, and they carry me in their claws. It’s fun! They’re a lot stronger than you think.”

  “Smell?” Daine’s voice came out as a strangled squeak.

  “Oh, I dab perfume under my nose, and I breathe through my mouth. Once I was getting over a cold, and I couldn’t smell a thing. That was the best time. And when you’re up in the air over everything, who cares about smells?”

  The rest of his meal eaten, Tkaa put a dessert rock in his mouth and hummed his satisfaction. Daine, glad to change the subject, asked, “Is it good, then?”

  Tkaa nodded. “The best I’ve ever had. They are well aged, and I am most partial to this dark variant.”

  Maura shook her head. “Wouldn’t you rather have real candy? I have spice drops. You just reminded me.” She fished a crumpled paper from a pocket and offered its contents to Daine and Kitten, who accepted with pleasure, then to Tkaa. The basilisk thanked her politely, but it was easy to see he was not tempted to trade his “candy” for hers.

  “What is it, the stone you’re eating?” Daine asked.

  The basilisk chose a rock and made a sound that was half whistle, half croak. The rock flared with a multitude of lights colored blue, violet, and green, with tiny sparks of red and amber. Slowly the lights faded. “Black opals,” the immortal announced with pleasure. “The finest I have ever eaten.”

  Kitten sat up and whistle-croaked. The pile of stones shone with the same rainbow of colors, and went dark. “Very good, Skysong,” approved Tkaa.

  Daine frowned. Here was the answer to the mines and the emperor’s interest. “Yolane ships opals to Carthak,” she said. “And Ozorne gives her mages, gold, maybe even soldiers, for when she rebels against King Jon.”

  “This just gets worse and worse.” Maura’s voice was tight. “It’s illegal to mine precious metals and stones without telling the Crown.”

  “Prob’ly for just this reason,” Daine pointed out. “So folk won’t sell them and use the money, or the magic, to make trouble.” She put a hand on Maura’s shoulder. “We’ll stop them, Lady Maura. You’ll see.”

  SEVEN

  COUNTING SOLDIERS

  Tkaa promised to tell Numair of the opals in the morning, then entertained Maura and Kitten with tales of the Divine Realms. Daine put out the food and made sure Maura knew how to cook it. She was impressed by the girls camplore: few ten-year-olds could build a fire, let alone cook on it. Maura gave the huntsman Tait the credit.

  “You’re lucky in your friends,” Daine said as she tucked Maura in.

  “If not my family,” agreed Maura, yawning. “The wolves really won’t eat me?”

  Da
ine took a breath and counted to ten, so she wouldn’t give an angry reply. It worked, simply because Maura was asleep by the time she finished counting.

  “I leave to go south at dawn,” she told Kitten, Tkaa, and Cloud later.

  Tkaa switched to thought-speech, confiding that so much spoken talk that day had made his jaw muscles ache.—Have you decided how you will go in?—

  “I’ll see who’s about,” replied Daine. “Oh, listen—the pack’s coming.”

  —We must take your word for that,—remarked the basilisk, amused.—In this, your magic is more powerful than ours.—Kitten nodded.

  Daine went to the cave entrance to greet the wolves. The moment she saw them, she wished she had remained seated. Brokefang, in the lead, bore a ham in his jaws. Frostfur was next with a rope of sausages. Each wolf had something: small bags of grain, meat, sacks of potatoes. Each pup proudly, and gently, bore an egg in his or her mouth. Also, enthroned on Sharp Nose’s back, nagging the wolf to trot slower, was the squirrel she had healed two days ago.

  Brokefang put the ham at her feet as the rest of the pack carried their burdens into the cave. The squirrel asked to come, the chief wolf told Daine, panting happily. He wants to help.

  “Help with what!” Daine whisper-screamed. Tkaa, Kitten, and Cloud came out to see why she was so excited. “Are you crazy? Why did you steal all this food? Where did you steal it? Mithros above, how did you steal it?”

  Easily, Battle replied. We visited the tree cutter den. They had more food than they could use. We ate some ourselves, and we spoiled the rest.

  Frolic added, We knew you and the human pup would soon eat all you have. Besides, if the men have no food, they will not have the strength to cut trees.

  “I told you, the Coldfang was set on your trail because you stole the axes! It’ll be a lot easier to track you when you stole hams and onions! They smell!”

  If they follow, we are ready, said Brokefang coolly. There is a rockfall up the slope. When pushed, it will bury a Coldfang, and we can use other ways out of the cave.

  It will do no good to moan, ‘What have I done?’ as you have been. (Only Frostfur can be that charming, thought Daine.) It is time for us to think this way. Men bully us all our lives. It is time for some revenge.

  Only a little, Brokefang cautioned. Avoiding two-leggers is still best.

  “What of you?” Daine asked the squirrel, knowing there was nothing she could say to change the wolves’ minds. “How did you get pulled into this madness?”

  You told me to listen to nonwolves, Brokefang reminded her. Surely listening means speaking, too.

  The big fellow here told me they fight tree cutters, the little rodent said. If anyone fights them, I will help. Do you know how many of my kind lost homes and feeding grounds this year? The Highbranch family starved, in the growing season, because their nesting places were cut down! And the big fellow—

  My name is Brokefang, the wolf said, looking up at the squirrel.

  I am Flicker, replied the squirrel. My family is Round Meadow.

  —It is useless to get excited,—Tkaa said to Daine, not unkindly.—As you told me, you did not ask them to do this. They thought of it themselves, and perhaps it is not such a bad thing to think.—

  Daine sighed. Tkaa was right. Also, there was nothing she could say to the pack that she had not said before, clearly with little effect. Instead she looked at Flicker. Squirrels had nimble forepaws, as good as hands in their way, and quick reflexes. They had keen eyes and ears, and a great deal of curiosity. Flicker was perfect for her needs.

  “How would you like to go for a walk in the morning?” she asked him.

  Often during her ride south Daine cursed the need for secrecy that kept her, Cloud, and Flicker high on the mountainsides, rather than on the road by the lakeshore. They stopped often to rest Cloud, although the mare argued that she was not a soft valley pony, to be coddled every step of the way. By the time they reached the woods near the southern fort, the afternoon was half gone.

  Daine cared for Cloud before taking a seat under an old willow. Its long branches swept the earth, screening her and her friends from view. With the mare to stand guard, she was as safe here as anywhere in Dunlath. Making herself comfortable against the bole of the tree, she asked Flicker, “Ready?”

  The squirrel finished the nut he was eating and launched himself into the willow’s branches. Ready! he replied.

  Daine closed her eyes. Before she could draw an entire breath, she was in Flicker’s mind. Swiftly they climbed high on the bole, then leaped for the next tree. He seized what looked like a clump of leaves and little more, and fell.

  Daine opened her eyes. She was in her own body again, shaking. Flicker dropped to the next branch down and scolded. How are we to do anything if you go away on the easiest jumps? Come back at once, and don’t be such a baby. I thought you went flying with a bat just the other night.

  The bat was flying, not falling and missing his grip! she retorted silently.

  I did not miss my grip. That was a controlled drop. Now are you coming?

  Just a moment, Daine replied. Finding her water bottle, she had a drink.

  Back so soon? asked Cloud, wickedly.

  “Very funny. I’d like to see you leap through trees.”

  But I don’t try. That is why my kind has horse sense, and yours does not.

  Daine made a face at the mare and settled back against the willow. This time all she did was close her eyes, and she was inside Flicker.

  You can trust me, he said as he set out once more. I’ve done this all my life.

  The rest of the trip was a blur. Flicker used jumps as she might use large steps over puddles, whipping his tail for balance, then racing to the next leap.

  The trees were cut for a hundred yards around the fort, but the grass was tall enough to screen a gray squirrel. The fort’s long walls were easy to climb. At the top Daine made Flicker check for guards. The two they saw were distant and not looking their way: she urged him over. He dropped onto the walk and climbed headfirst to the ground as Daine cringed. You won’t make a good squirrel at this rate, he informed her when they were safely on the ground.

  They checked the inner enclosure: it was nearly empty. Horses were picketed in front of a low wooden building Daine guessed to be the commander’s office. A horse-boy dozed near his charges under the single tree allowed to grow inside the wall. He was the only human in view, though they heard others in the buildings.

  Everything was fairly new, built from raw wood. As well as the mess and command post, she identified a stable, a building that had to be a barracks, and the privy. One other building had only a roof, three walls, and a long, low railing. Straw was scattered on the floor; the rail was scarred with what looked like knife cuts.

  What’s that? asked Flicker. It looks strange.

  I think it’s a Stormwing roost. They’re the only creatures big enough to need a rail that large to sit on.

  Flicker’s teeth chattered angrily. If they have their own perches like this, they had no business landing on my branch and almost killing me!

  Too right. Now, let’s try the command post, she suggested.

  The squirrel raced to the closest building, the stable, and ran up the side. One leap: they were on the roof of the Stormwing mews. Even the wood between them couldn’t keep the reek from Flicker’s sensitive nose. He sneezed, then jumped onto the command post roof. Trotting to the edge, he swung down under the eaves and saw a broad window.

  They climbed in and looked around. On the wall by the door, a large slate was mounted. Written across the top in white chalk was Duty Roster—Troops.

  Daine examined it. Thirty privates were listed, as well as three sergeants, three corporals, and a captain, making a total of thirty-seven. She counted twice, to be sure, then noticed papers in a stack on the desk.

  Let’s have a peek at those, she suggested to the squirrel.

  Flicker jumped onto the desk and picked up documents one at a tim
e for Daine to read. The first two were supply orders; the third was not. At its foot was a heavy wax seal that bore an image of a crossed sword and wand, topped by a crown and wrapped in a jagged circle. It was the seal of the emperor of Carthak: she knew it from histories and official papers Numair had shown her. The writing was bold and easy to read.

  The criminal Arram Draper, also known as Numair Salmalín, is to be taken alive and transported to Carthak by Stormwings.

  Try also to capture the young dragon. If this immortal is shipped to Us live for inclusion in Our menagerie, there will be a reward of 500 gold thaks. As to the dragon’s handler, she is not required. Kill her.

  The girl was so absorbed in her reading that she didn’t notice something had darkened the window. When a wave of stench reached Flicker’s nostrils, he sneezed and turned.

  Rikash had landed on the rail outside and was looking in. “Well. A tree-rat. I think it’s odd, a tree-rat going through papers. It’s not the kind of thing you little crawlers usually do, is it?”

  Flicker’s tail whipped savagely in anger and fear. Come here, he cried. I’ll show you what a “crawler” can do!

  Rikash slid until he could block the window if he raised his wings. “Only magic would let a tree-rat read.” He yelled, “Humans to the command post! Now, ground pounders, now!” Raising a claw, he pointed at Flicker.

  The floor! Daine ordered. Flicker jumped as gold fire smacked into the spot where they had been standing.

  What was that? asked the squirrel, breath coming fast.

  Magic. They don’t use it much, but when they do…jump!

  Flicker leaped atop a cabinet as another fire bolt struck his last position. I’m getting angry, Smelly, he scolded. How would you like your nose bit off?

  This is not the time to insult him, Daine warned, looking for an escape. She heard feet pounding: humans were answering Rikash’s summons.

  Their location had the Stormwing in a bind. His feathers got in the way as he tried to aim. What’s wrong? taunted Flicker. Can’t work yourself around to point? But one of you was limber enough when it came to landing on me!