Wolfs Soul

by Jane Lindskold

  When Firekeeper vanished again into the darkness, Laria led the way steadily ahead until Blind Seer stepped into the small halo of light cast by her lantern. The great grey wolf gently nudged Laria so her free hand rested on his head. She let herself stroke his fur, knowing he was offering her reassurance.

  There are advantages to being able to smell a companion’s mood, Laria thought. We always think about what his nose tells him in terms of hunting and scouting, but Blind Seer lives in a world where how we feel is as real to him as the color of our hair or eyes—maybe even more real.

  Firekeeper reappeared shortly after. “The door was not locked. I heard nothing, so I opened it. It goes to a great rounded area which has other tunnels going down from it, and many smaller openings above. Farborn watches, just in case, but we three think this sewer has not seen any living creature larger than a rat for a long time.”

  Something in how Firekeeper tousled Blind Seer’s ears made Laria remember that the two apparently had reason to dislike sewers. Asking why would need to wait for another time.

  Firekeeper continued, “In this round place are some ladders, going up.” She looked abashed. “There is writing, but I cannot read it, nor can Farborn.”

  The steep ramp they climbed did not end so much in a door as in a hatch, but Laria wasn’t about to quibble words with Firekeeper. The hatch was labeled in archaic Pellish, “Emergency Overflow 3.” Beside this were carved a series of runes that Wythcombe studied for a long moment before giving a crisp nod.

  “This would have been a spell set to activate when the water in the chamber backed up to a certain level. Doubtless, after the university was destroyed, no one was available to recharge the spell, so the tunnel remained sealed these past decades except for the scouts of whom General Merial informed us.”

  “Spells don’t remain active then?” Laria asked.

  “Some do; some don’t,” Wythcombe replied. “This one looks to be the sort that would be routinely recharged—creating such is much less intensive than making an item like Volsyl.” He raised one of the lanterns and looked around the chamber. “Arasan, Laria, your Pellish would be closer to that of the time before querinalo. What do you make of the designations near the ladders?”

  “Street names or possibly that of districts within the university,” Arasan replied promptly. “I’m willing to bet that not all of those access hatches will open, though. See the marks on the underside of the hatches? They’re shorthand for ‘locked.’ I’m guessing those are a lot more modern than the inscriptions on the walls.”

  “Made by the Azure Tower’s scouts,” Wythcombe nodded, “to show those who would come after which ports could be opened. That limits our choices a bit. Let’s see, among the district names we have ‘Doves,’ ‘Residences,’ and ‘Herbs’ to choose from. Anyone?”

  “Herbs,” Laria replied, thinking she had been quiet for too long.

  Firekeeper flashed her a grin, then darted up a ladder before anyone could make another suggestion. A few moments later, she had the hatch open. She paused, sniffed the air. As she did so, Farborn winged up, turning sideways to pass Firekeeper in midair, and sliced out. Unlike a human, Firekeeper didn’t bother to explain that she’d asked the falcon to scout the area.

  Really, Laria thought, I didn’t realize how much inane conversation humans make until I met Firekeeper.

  Eventually, Farborn swept back in and Firekeeper started translating. “This goes to a path next to a huge pipe. Farborn says that there is an opening we larger folk can get out through this way if we move rubble. Blind Seer and I could scout ahead, but human things still can trick us. I think is best we stay together.”

  “Did Farborn see anything to indicate that anyone—anyone human—has been here recently?” Wythcombe asked anxiously.

  “No, but he look more,” Firekeeper said. “Still, we keep our voices low. Blind Seer will go up next. He will smell what I cannot.”

  The great grey wolf gathered himself, then climbed neatly up the ladder’s metal rungs, followed by the humans. When Firekeeper climbed back down to carry up Rusty, the goat was remarkably cooperative. Laria wondered what the wolf-woman had said to him.

  The hatch led into what probably had been some sort of service access, although most of the corridor had collapsed long before. The air that leaked in was mountain chill, refreshing after the long hours in the tunnel. Firekeeper reported that Farborn had not seen any evidence of any human activity. The birds and animals he had glimpsed had been what would be expected in such a place.

  “Farborn go to find Sun Diver,” Firekeeper explained, “a yarimaimalom eagle he met in City of Towers, who said she would come ahead to see what might be seen while we made our way beneath the ground. You humans who understand this rubble more, show me what to move so we may go out.”

  To Laria’s intense interest, Ranz proved to be the best at assessing which chunks of stone to remove in what order. Building his city of snow and ice had taught him much about how one thing supports another. As the smallest of the humans, Laria was called upon to squeeze in and roll pieces forward. Firekeeper astonished no one by being able to move far heavier blocks of stone than would seem possible for one of her slender build. Before long, they had created an opening that permitted them to climb up to street level. Farborn returned, and reassured them that neither he nor Sun Diver had seen anything that indicated their emergence would be detected.

  “But Sun Diver has seen strange activity elsewhere,” Firekeeper translated. “A glow of light where she is certain there has been none, a restlessness among the vermin. Farborn knows where to guide us when we are ready.”

  “I’m ready,” Wythcombe said, although Laria thought the old man looked both tired and strained. “Lead on!”

  IV

  OPALESCENT FURY GREETED them when Uaid crumbled into sand a thick stone door high in a ruined tower. This door was the last remaining of many obstacles that had stood between them and the first part of the artifact. The Voice had told them that Jyanee had named her creation Sykavalkay, which was archaic Tishiolan for “Four Threads.” The thread they sought had been called “Palvalkay.”

  The majority of what had obstructed them as they dug through the ruins had been rubble from collapsed buildings. Long-ago conflagrations had raged through the subterranean passages connecting the university’s buildings, roaring up once elegant towers transformed into inadvertent chimneys, the heat so intense that building stones had cracked. Floors were memories recalled in drifts of hardened ash. The interior walls of the towers were streaked with soot that seemed to form words in a long-forgotten iconography.

  Without the Voice’s guidance, Kabot knew they would never have made their way to this particular portion of the ruin so directly. Nor, he admitted to himself, could they have ever gained access without Uaid’s earth magic slicing them a tunnel through the rubble. When they had emerged into the proper tower, all that remained was a single chamber high above that took up about half the circumference of the tower. There was a small landing outside of the door that led into it. Kabot surmised that long ago a stairway had led up to that landing, but it was gone now.

  Neither the partial floor nor the support beams of the aerie in which they now rested had been made from wood, so these had survived the conflagration. Uaid had softened the stone walls to create the hand and footholds which they had used to scramble up the inner wall to reach the landing. Once they had gained their perch, Uaid examined the door, discovering that it had been grown from stone seeds, much as rock candy could be grown from sugar. The stone proved to be more dense and more solid than granite. Dissolving enough of it that they could creep through had taken many hours and left Uaid panting and trembling.

  But the door had not been the only protection for Palvalkay. As they examined the eerie aura of crystalline blue coursed through with flecks of brilliant orange and streaks that shimmered like ice, Kabot tried not to show how impressed he was by this remnant of centuries-old magic.

&nbs
p; “A ward,” he said, “still active after well over a century. We’ve come to the right place, eh?”

  Crouching low, he backed out of the makeshift doorway and turned to face Daylily, projecting more confidence than he felt. As the rehabilitation teams on Rhinadei had discovered, long-term wards were nearly impossible to break. Even if Uaid dissolved the stone into which the runes and sigils had been carved, the ward would persist. Daylily looked up from nursing a stimulant into Uaid to glare at Kabot, unimpressed by his attempted casualness.

  “The Voice would not have misled us,” she said tartly. “If you doubt his wisdom, why did you agree to come here? Make yourself useful and figure out how to lower that ward. If you can’t, then you and I will need to summon the Voice and ask for his guidance.”

  Inwardly fuming, Kabot put on his most gentle, compassionate smile. “Do you need help with Uaid?”

  Daylily didn’t answer immediately. Maybe she was feeling even more uncertain than Kabot himself was. After all, although her abilities were more varied, she must know she could do nothing to lower the ward.

  “Deal with the ward,” Daylily replied. “I’ll take care of Uaid. Save some mana for if we need to summon the Voice. Uaid won’t be able to help us with anything arcane for a long while.”

  That’s the second time she’s mentioned summoning the Voice, Kabot thought, letting his warm smile drop as soon as he crept back through the hole in the door. Maybe she’s just aching to see ‘him’ again.

  He felt unwilling empathy. Ever since they had entered this particular tower, his ability to converse with Phiona had ceased. He suspected that that ward blocked spirits along with most other magical emanations.

  Now, he thought, talking to himself since he couldn’t talk to Phiona, and Daylily clearly didn’t want to talk to him, how do I bring the ward down without asking the Voice? Needing to ask wouldn’t do much for my prestige with either Daylily or Uaid—and that’s shaky enough right now. I’m not sure who’s the leader—me or the Voice.

  He let his mind drift through the abstruse arcane lore that had become his favorite playground when he and Goldfinch had been hardly more than boys seeking to show off for each other by adapting the basic spells they were learning in school. When he was honest with himself, Kabot admitted that Goldfinch had always possessed the finer touch. Kabot had been faster, but his solutions had been messier, had demanded more raw mana to function—which in turn had led him to independently develop techniques that had verged on the anathema arts and had gotten him into repeated trouble with his teachers—which led to his eventual rebellion.

  Kabot lost track of time, even of the discomfort of his cramped body. When he finally spoke, his voice rasped unintelligibly. He realized that his mouth was completely dry.

  “I’ve got it!” he croaked, swiveling around and nearly cracking his head against the top of the hole Uaid had put through the door. “I can unlock the ward!”

  “You can?” Uaid asked, looking pleased, but not as admiring as Kabot would have expected. Then he realized that more time might have passed than he had realized.

  Daylily and Uaid were seated on the floor, leaning against the wall, their feet hanging into the abyss. Their postures showed a degree of comfort that suggested they had been like that for long enough to forget just how far they would fall if they shifted wrong. Smiling her approval, Daylily shoved a canteen over to Kabot. He drank deeply before continuing.

  “I can.” Without being asked, Kabot went on to explain what he’d figured out about the nature of the ward and the best way to unwork it. He continued after first Daylily’s, then Uaid’s eyes had glazed over from the effort of following him through complex magical calculations. Finally, Daylily cleared her throat in deferential interruption.

  “That’s all wonderful, Kabot, but didn’t the Voice tell us that we are being pursued? If you really think you can undo this ward, perhaps I should assist you. We need to get away from here before our only achievement is discovering something that our pursuers will certainly try to take from us.”

  “Good point,” Kabot said, able to be gracious now that he was certain his reputation was on the ascendant. “Here’s what I need you to do.”

  Some hours later, the opalescent blue field shimmered, then fell away, giving them access to the forbidden chamber. Kabot wanted to rest but, even more, he didn’t want to seem as if channeling the spell had hit him as hard as it had. He forced himself onto his hands and knees, then crawled into the room.

  “Come on!” he said, pleased to hear himself sounding so hearty, “Palvalkay awaits us!”

  Scanning his surroundings with all his senses, including his ability to “sniff” magic, Blind Seer shook himself heartily when he emerged into the pale spring sunlight. Dark purple and brilliant yellow crocus bloomed in a sheltered hollow. Hardy trees that had pushed roots through fallen stone to thrive on ash and crumbling rock were in full bud, a scattering of newly opened blossoms lightly perfuming the air. Clumps of coarse perennial grasses, showing signs of having been nibbled on by rabbits, were greening up. Despite these attempts by the vegetable world to assert the return of warmer weather, there was little foliage to obstruct the view.

  Leaving Firekeeper to help the humans scrabble from the depths, Blind Seer padded to where he could discern what the varying breezes had to tell him about the possible location of their quarry. He found nothing definite, although there did seem to be a faint human scent. The origin of the scent was confused because the breezes that carried it were shunted through the jutting remains of the university towers. The human spoor might even have been created by the guards Queen Anitra had posted, but the character seemed all wrong. This scent held none of the notes of oiled leather and metal Blind Seer would have expected, rather a hint of bodies that had not been properly cleaned for too long, tainted with anxiety.

  He tilted back his head and drew in a deep breath, then slowly swiveled his head to better isolate the specific air currents. This time he caught a stronger current carried on the higher breezes. Interesting… Humans did not usually fly, so that would indicate that their quarry—if indeed this was their quarry—had climbed up one of the towers that had not been completely razed when the non-magical humans had risen against their tormentors.

  After Firekeeper had carried Rusty from the depths, Blind Seer briefed her, then she briefed the humans.

  “But which tower?” Wythcombe asked. “Can Blind Seer tell? And can he tell if it’s Kabot? Did he get Kabot’s scent back in Rhinadei?”

  Blind Seer shook his head, then said to Firekeeper, “Tell him I don’t know which tower. The scent is too faint. I didn’t really get Kabot’s scent back in Rhinadei. The rain had taken care of any scent without and even that within was misted. In any case, Kabot and his pack were long gone by the time we arrived.”

  Firekeeper translated, then pointed to where Farborn showed as a vanishing dot against the sky. “Blind Seer cannot tell which tower, but Farborn has gone to find Sun Diver. He and the eagle may be able to see for us since the walls are so broken.”

  “We are fortunate to have such allies,” Wythcombe said, easing himself to a seat on a large chunk of masonry. “I’d love to check if there is any active magic in use, but that would be a waste of mana. Even I would have trouble getting a reliable result at such a distance.”

  Ranz was doing his best to hide his restlessness by seeking tufts of grass from among the stones and feeding them to Rusty. Laria sat nearby, trying not to show she was watching Ranz, her hands carefully folded in her lap to make certain she did not accidentally begin to read her surroundings. Arasan leaned against what might have once been the plinth for a statue. From the angle of his head, he could have been studying the skies, but Blind Seer noticed that his eyes were shut and his features curiously slack. Perhaps he was fighting off sleep. After all, other than Wythcombe, Arasan was by far the eldest of their company. Not all that long ago, he had been injured so severely he had almost died.

  Blind See
r was about to ask Firekeeper if she thought Arasan might be becoming ill—although he smelled healthy enough—when Farborn plummeted down from above.

  “Sun Diver has found where the humans are!!” the merlin shrieked, skimming around and through their group in a blur of feathers and sound. “Look up!! Look up!! She circles where the humans will not see her!!”

  Firekeeper pointed. “There. Where the eagle stands against the sky. That may be where our quarry lies. Before you ask. No. Sun Diver does not know if this is Kabot or some other human pack bold enough to defy Queen Anitra. We need to find out ourselves.”

  In wolf speech she added to Blind Seer, “I want to race forth, but something tells me that would be purest puppy foolishness.”

  Blind Seer huffed agreement. “‘A wise wolf scouts the prey, knows when to hunt, when to stay away,’" he said, quoting one of his favorite proverbs. “For this hunt, though, we wolves cannot scout effectively. If this is Wythcombe’s Kabot, he is of a people who have never given up the use of magic.” He paused to consider, then quoted, “‘When first encountering a new type of snake, it is best to assume it is poisonous, rather than learning only after you have been bitten.’”

  Firekeeper scratched gently behind one of his ears as she addressed the others. “Blind Seer and I cannot scout this prey. We will remain with you humans—and Rusty—and assure that you arrive safely at the tower. Farborn, can you go ahead, find a secret place, keep watch, then come warn us if anything odd happens?”

  Farborn chuckled. “What isn’t odd? The tower may not have fallen, but it is broken in many, many places. One as small as I am can easily find a place to hide and keep watch. I will tell Sun Diver what we are about, ask her to help you chart your way across this broken ground.”

  “We would be grateful,” Firekeeper replied, then briefed the rest.