Wolfs Soul

by Jane Lindskold

  Laria glanced between them. Skea gave her a broad wink and tossed his head to where Ikitata waved from where she sat with Nenean and Kitatos.

  “Go on, your mama’s waiting. We’ll see you at the meeting tonight.”

  So dismissed, Laria went. She glanced back, hoping Ranz would ask her to stay, but he was staring earnestly at Ynamynet and didn’t seem to notice that she’d left.

  “We have chairs for you and Blind Seer,” Wort said when the wolves arrived prior to the meeting. Ruddy-skinned, fair-haired, Wort still possessed his warrior’s build and kept fit, but these days his frontline was likely to be one of the warehouses.

  As much as Blind Seer appreciated Wort’s thoughtfulness, he wasn’t about to spend the next few hours sitting upright, unable to get his tail into a comfortable position. He didn’t need to voice his complaint to Firekeeper. She liked sitting on chairs as little as he did.

  “Cannot sit that way,” Firekeeper said. “Not for meeting. Blind Seer needs his tail to talk.”

  That last was both true and clever. Blind Seer huffed agreement and gently butted Firekeeper with his head in thanks.

  Wort looked concerned. “But if you sit on the floor, people won’t be able to see you.”

  “People will,” Firekeeper retorted. “Some humans may have difficulty. What say this? When we have visited the Liglimom’s u-Liall , they set their tables and chairs like this.” She sketched a broad curve in the air. “Those of us—like Truth when she was the jaguar of her year—who are not human but are people, we sit closer to the ground. Truth have a special pillow even, though I think she would be happy with a rug or even a blanket.”

  Wort rubbed his palms against his ears hard enough that Blind Seer could hear the coarse hair within rasping. Then he shrugged. Like most of the Nexus Islanders, he would not have survived the war without the intervention of various yarimaimalom.

  “That would work,” he said.

  To show her gratitude, Firekeeper hurried over to shift tables and chairs. The days when she thought such labor beneath a wolf were long gone. Now that the Nexus Islands were the closest thing she and Blind Seer had to a pack, she gave her all, as was right and proper for a wolf.

  Blind Seer still lacked hands. He swallowed a sigh at this, but the grip of his jaws could be very delicate if he wished, so he pulled various chairs into position.

  “Is Truth coming to the meeting?” Wort asked, obviously considering whether he should send one of his staff to find a rug.

  “Blind Seer says he thinks she will,” Firekeeper replied. She stood back, hands on hips, went to move one of the perches that had been supplied for those of the wingéd folk who would be attending, then nodded, satisfied. “Me and Blind Seer, we don’t need a rug. The floor is fine.”

  “Blind Seer and I,” Derian corrected, as he entered the room, his arms full of map cases. “You wouldn’t say ‘Me don’t need a rug,’ would you?”

  “Maybe,” Firekeeper hung her head, then peeked up through her tousled hair. “If I forget. Did you like the venison we brought back from the mainland?”

  “Did you?” Derian said, moving to where an easel had been set and pinning up maps. “I don’t think that was included in tonight’s meal, but I’m sure it will be delicious.”

  “A bit tough,” Firekeeper said honestly. “Spring game is, though on the mainland where it never really gets too winter, the game is fattening up nicely.”

  She shared news about the wolves they had run with during their visit. Derian was as interested in the news that Onion and Half-Ear’s pack had a healthy litter of pups as he would have been to learn that one of his human friends had a new baby.

  The best thing about Derian, Blind Seer thought as he eased himself onto the polished boards of the floor, is that he didn’t need querinalo to make him look like a horse to begin to think of Beasts as people.

  Not long after, the rest of the council filed in, minus, as usual, the doctor, Zebel. Derian and Ynamynet took seats at the center table, near the easel with the maps. Skea sat to Ynamynet’s left, with Wythcombe and Ranz to his left. Urgana and Wort sat to Derian’s right, where Arasan joined them a few moments later.

  There was a chair for Laria next to Ranz but, to Blind Seer’s surprise—his nose told him of the girl’s interest in Ranz—Laria flung herself on the floor next to himself and Firekeeper. Farborn took one of the perches. Last, when her attendance would be certain to cause a reaction, the jaguar Truth padded in and lounged regally on the folded horse blanket Wort had found for her.

  Blind Seer opened his mouth in a grin wide enough to show his molars. Truth would have made an impression even if she’d been a more normal jaguar, but her bout of querinalo—during which she claimed she had fought the Liglimom’s deity of fire, Ahmyn—had turned her formerly golden fur charcoal black, transformed her black spots to reddish orange tongues of flame, and altered her dark-amber eyes to white with slit pupils of blue.

  “Tell that human child that she can sit on the blanket with me,” Truth said. “She need not sit on bare boards.”

  Firekeeper passed on the invitation. Laria—acutely aware of the honor—scooted over next to Truth, scratching the jaguar behind her rounded ears when invited to do so. Blind Seer wondered which of Truth’s visions had told her that it was important to build Laria up in front of those who would still be inclined to view her as a child, but he did not doubt that Truth’s actions were calculated to do precisely that.

  After Truth had settled and water had been poured for those who wished it, Derian started talking. “Over dinner, those of you who hadn’t done so already had opportunity to meet our guests from Rhinadei: Wythcombe and Ranz. Let’s get down to business then.”

  “Business” proved to be a short summary of the events that had brought Wythcombe and Ranz to the Nexus Islands, “so you can correct us if we have any details wrong.”

  After Wythcombe stated that the council understood matters better than if he himself had reported them, Ynamynet took over, reporting—with occasional references to the map on the easel—about Azure Towers and how access to the ruins of the university was forbidden. Next the discussion became general as various options were discussed. No one liked the idea of leaving Kabot and his cabal to have free run of the university ruins, so “wait and see” was immediately discarded. Another option that was discarded was informing Queen Anitra of the situation, then leaving her to decide whether or not to investigate.

  “If she says ‘I don’t believe you’ or ‘I don’t want to take the risk until there’s reason,’ what would we do?” Skea asked. “I think it’s best that we narrow to how and what to ask the queen. We should make it clear that this is a matter in which Wythcombe, as a representative of Rhinadei’s government, in pursuit of a fugitive, feels a strong need to assure himself Kabot isn’t in the ruins.”

  Wythcombe scratched the bald spot on the crown of his head and said, “I think Rhinadei’s government would support me as their representative in this matter, although I will admit, I didn’t come here with anything like an official appointment.”

  “As long as you think they’ll back you if asked,” Skea said, “that’s enough.”

  Ranz had been studying the map. Now he half-raised one hand. “Is there a way we could get into the ruins without being detected? With Firekeeper and Blind Seer as guides, we could travel by night or under cover. That way we wouldn’t need to involve the queen at all.”

  All eyes moved to look at the map. Azure Towers was bordered by the Mires to the west, Hearthome to the north, mountains to the east, and a short stretch of rocky shoreline to the south. There was a thoughtful silence.

  “The magical gate we know of in Azure Towers is in the City of Towers,” Urgana began after consulting her notes. “It’s likely there were others, possibly many others, in the university city, but we know nothing of them and none of our investigations into the sealed gates has taken us there. If we don’t wish Queen Anitra to know of your intent, using Azure To
wers’ gate would be out of the question.”

  “What about those other lands?” Ranz persisted. “From the stories Arasan told us, I had the impression that the Nexus Islands were on pretty good terms with the Mires. Would the king—Bryessidan, I think his name was—would he let us in through his gate? We could make our way across the Mires into Azure Towers, maybe cling to the shore, then find our way into the ruins.”

  Blind Seer snorted. The journey did look simple when one was looking at a map. That was the problem with humans—they tended to forget the picture wasn’t the reality. He and Firekeeper had spent a very interesting half-moonspan in the Mires and come away from it with muddy paws and a firm respect for that treacherous terrain. But even if King Bryessidan provided a guide, there was another reason this was a bad option.

  “Tell them,” Blind Seer said to Firekeeper, “that we cannot have King Bryessidan accused of partaking in what would—after all—be an invasion. That would be poor repayment for his overtures of friendship.”

  Firekeeper translated faithfully. Ranz, who had been looking quite eager, deflated. Doubtless he had been prepared to remind them that his gift for turning water into ice would make passing through the sodden swamplands, if not easy, at least possible.

  “A related argument,” Skea added, giving Blind Seer a nod, general to general, “applies to our sending a team in via the southern shore or the eastern mountains. The difference would be that the Nexus Islands could be accused of invading. We’re establishing good relations with the various gate-holding lands, but none of them have forgotten even for a moment that one of the yet unawakened gates might open into their backyards. Trust is our best defense, and we don’t dare weaken it.”

  “So,” Arasan said, tapping a martial rhythm on the table, “that means we either must speak with Queen Anitra, or go in via her gate, then hope to sneak into the university ruins. I think we have ample reasons to discard the latter option. So we must speak with the queen, and hope she will give us permission to do what she and her ancestors have steadfastly forbidden since querinalo caused the fall of the sorcerer monarchs of old.”

  Somewhere in the course of planning the embassy to Queen Anitra of Azure Towers, Firekeeper realized that Derian was intending to be one of the members. For a brief moment, the thought made her very happy. No matter how much she had come to treasure other humans, Derian was her first human friend. He had stood up for her when she hadn’t even known she needed defending—indeed, when she would have heatedly argued that the last thing she needed was any weak human’s defense. Firekeeper hadn’t understood the risks Derian had taken for her, because she hadn’t understood how humans in his society judged not only on merit, but on birth. In return for these old debts, no matter how appealing the idea of having Derian with her and Blind Seer as they set off on this new journey, Firekeeper realized that it was her role to forbid him to join the embassy.

  Shortly after the decision was made to approach Queen Anitra, the meeting was adjourned until after breakfast the next day. Of course, Derian had to stop and talk with any number of people before he could leave, but Firekeeper and Blind Seer waited patiently in the shadows, then trailed Derian to the cottage he shared with Isende. The door was hardly closed behind him before Firekeeper—remembering that this was Isende’s home, too, and she might not approve if Firekeeper and Blind Seer came in unannounced—knocked lightly but firmly.

  Derian swung the door open a narrow crack. “Can’t it wait…” He stopped midsentence when he saw the two wolves and swung the door wide to admit them. “Firekeeper, Blind Seer… What is it? It must be important if you couldn’t tell me at the meeting.”

  Firekeeper made certain the door was closed behind them, gave Isende a deep bow to wordlessly acknowledge that they had invaded her territory, then turned to Derian.

  “Is important. Very. We came to tell you that you cannot go with us to Azure Towers, not even to the court for diplomacy.”

  Derian looked shocked and hurt, Isende only puzzled. She recovered first, and motioned to the hearth where banked coals broke the springtime chill.

  “Have a seat on the rug by the fire. I have some oatmeal raisin cookies and tea. I knew Derian would be hungry after the meeting.”

  Firekeeper and Blind Seer accepted the offered place by the fire, although the room was warm enough that they would have been more comfortable away from it. However, they knew when welcome was being offered, and the situation was delicate enough that they had no desire to unbalance it. Firekeeper even accepted a cookie, although she didn’t have much of a taste for sweets. These little social rituals gave Derain an opportunity to recover his poise. Anyone who didn’t know him so well—or have Blind Seer’s keen nose for reading human moods—would have been fooled by his casual, teasing reply.

  “So, I can’t come with you? Certainly you don’t think you’re up to negotiating with queens, do you? Or do you now trust Arasan so much? Have you forgotten that the Meddler is there as well? Or do you think you have him on a choke chain?”

  Firekeeper frowned as she pieced through this barrage of questions. “No. No. Yes. Not at all. No. Not anymore.”

  Isende sputtered with laughter, then poured tea for Derian and herself, water for Firekeeper and Blind Seer. “Derian, why don’t you ask Firekeeper why she doesn’t want you to go with them? Then you’ll have a better foundation for arguing with her.”

  Blind Seer thumped his tail against the floor and Isende amended. “With them. Blind Seer clearly agrees with Firekeeper.”

  Derian’s ears flickered as if he might pin them back in mulish refusal, then he sighed. “Very well. Firekeeper, why do you and Blind Seer think I shouldn’t come with you to Azure Towers?”

  Firekeeper hid her relief. She really hadn’t wanted to get into a fight with Derian. “There is—are—two reasons. One is because of who you are. Even if you do not say this too loudly, you are the One of the Nexus Islands. Not a king, no, but definitely One, because everyone looks to you when a decision must be made—especially if that decision is not about magic. If you go with us, then what is just people becomes something more. A meeting of packs, of governments. I do not think you wish this thing. If we decide to do something sneaky, then it is like what Blind Seer said about King Bryessidan helping—an invasion or attack.”

  Derian looked uncomfortable. “Do you plan to do something ‘sneaky’?”

  “Plan? No. But if we must, we must. This is too big to leave alone or to leave others to deal with. I think—Blind Seer, too—from how Kabot left a message for Wythcombe and only for Wythcombe that part of what Kabot does is because of Wythcombe. Good? Bad? I don’t know. But this is why we cannot leave this to Queen Anitra and her people to decide.”

  Blind Seer lifted his head from his paws and stared at Derian. “Tell him, dear heart, that while I could not get much sense out of Truth, she did say that those of us who went into Rhinadei, as well as the two from Rhinadei, must be involved or worse would happen. That she risked the streams of insanity to learn this much makes me feel that she, too, feels this is not a matter we can leave to Queen Anitra.”

  Firekeeper translated and Derian sighed again. “So, one reason I shouldn’t go is that this matter then becomes Nexus Island business. I might argue…”

  Isende cut in. “But you’d be wrong. So don’t, Derian, just don’t. I suspect that Firekeeper and Blind Seer are anticipating an argument that would have come up in the morning meeting. I’m interested in knowing what their other reason for not letting you go is.”

  “She smells of apprehension,” Blind Seer said. “The tang is strong, but I cannot tell why she feels this way.”

  In reply, Firekeeper gently squeezed his shoulder with the hand that lay buried in the fur on his back, then went on, “Isende, this next is not signs and omens. It is what we two, Derian’s friends, think. We think Derian needs to go home to his family. It has been too long. So much has changed and those changes are far bigger than the horse ears and handsome mane. H
e has found you. In the religion which is like a pack to him, Fox Hair needs to show you to his family, to his ancestors. Then you and him and any little ones will be part of the bigger pack. If going to them was impossible, then it would not matter, I think. But it is possible and, no matter how Derian makes excuses, as long as he puts off this visit, the putting off will eat at his gut.”

  Isende smiled and rested her hand on Derian’s arm. “I think that, too, but I also understand his being nervous.”

  Blind Seer said and Firekeeper translated, “If we worry about the elk kicking, we will never begin the hunt.”

  “I understand what you mean,” Derian said, “but what if I’m in doubt about the wisdom of this hunt?”

  “You don’t doubt,” Firekeeper stated firmly. “You are only nervous. Blind Seer says to tell you there is another reason for this going. As we have said over and over, you are the One of these islands. To those in the New World, you will be the most important One, for they will not trust Ynamynet because she is a sorcerer. They must learn to know you and accept you. Grateful Peace will smooth the way in New Kelvin. I think that—much as you may doubt this—Rahniseeta will in Liglim. But for Hawk Haven and Bright Bay, you must speak for yourself, and quickly.”

  “Blind Seer says all of that?” Derian said, forcing a chuckle. “He has a lot more to say these days than he used to.”

  “Blind Seer has changed,” Firekeeper admitted. “Before he viewed himself as one of our pack of two. Now we has a bigger pack.”

  “Ouch!” Derian said, but he was laughing as he said it. “Very well. I will make clear that not only shouldn’t I be part of this embassy, neither should Ynamynet or anyone who could be taken as representing the Nexus Islands. Moreover, I will also make clear that Isende and I haven’t changed our plans to go first to Liglim, then from there, by ship, to Bright Bay and Hawk Haven.”