The Elders

by Inbali Iserles

  Haiki’s pace slowed as we climbed the mountain. Deep furrows bored into its sides. I followed Haiki as he slunk along one and finally stopped to catch his breath. I sat a short distance away as he gnawed at clumps of mud from the gorge. Dust crumbled onto his tail, but he didn’t seem to notice. He wasn’t finicky like Siffrin.

  After a moment he paused. “You saved my life, Isla. When I ran from the dogs, I tripped over some rocks and fell into the gorge. My paw … I couldn’t free it. But somehow you did … such strength!” He cocked his head in gratitude.

  “You got rid of the dogs, so I guess we’re even.” He’d succeeded not by fleeing, not with foxcraft, but through trickery. I had never seen anyone do that before.

  In the distance, I heard a last angry yap.

  “They said they’d seen us in the field, but that wasn’t me.” I glanced over my shoulder. “Is there someone else here?”

  “No one I saw,” said Haiki. “But dogs aren’t the brightest!”

  “Those rabbits weren’t really crossing, were they?”

  Haiki snorted. “In the rain? Of course not. Skittish creatures, rabbits. They can’t stand water. But a dog is a greedy sort of beast—a dog will swallow anything.”

  * * *

  The rain had drizzled to a stop. The clouds lifted, revealing a sky dappled with stars. Canista’s Lights shone brighter than I’d ever seen them in the Snarl. I gazed overhead, mesmerized by the pulsing flares. I could make out shapes within patterns, faces and figures etched in white fire. Had the sky always looked this way, hidden behind the beam of brightglobes and the angry eyes of manglers? Or was it only in the Wildlands that the stars dared to sparkle?

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Haiki was watching me.

  I wrapped my brush around my body. “I’m not used to such clear nights.”

  “What are you used to?”

  I turned to look at him. Close up, I could see his gray fur was fuzzy at the edges, his limbs stocky and his face broad. I rose to my paws. “I should be going … But I’m glad you’re all right.” I stretched my back legs, preparing to leave.

  “You should probably stay put awhile, in case the dogs come back. They’ll be searching for us.”

  I paused, peering out over the edge of the rocks. The fields were so dark now that they looked like great hollow caverns. Somewhere in the distance, a creature hooted. It wasn’t like any bird I’d heard in the Snarl. There was an accusation in its reedy voice, a warning to those down below.

  I needed to climb the mountain to see what lay beyond—but even a fox’s vision could not make sense of this vast, open blackness. I would have to wait until the sun rose over the horizon.

  Haiki flopped down onto his belly with a yawn. “I can tell you’re not from around here.”

  My tail-tip quivered. This fox may have gotten us away from the dogs, but I didn’t know anything about him. Experience had taught me to be wary.

  Haiki panted cheerfully. He stretched out a hind leg in order to groom it, but he tipped awkwardly, rolling onto his side and righting himself with a yip. “Me neither. I’m from the lowlands. I’ve been walking a long time.”

  “Why did you leave?” I shouldn’t have asked. The less I knew about this clumsy fox, the easier it would be to leave him.

  But Haiki seemed delighted at the question. He puffed out his chest self-importantly. “I’m on a quest! I’m crossing to the Upper Wildlands. I’m going to find the Elders!”

  I looked away, catching the distant gleam of Canista’s Lights.

  “Have you heard of them?” asked Haiki in his quick, cheerful voice. He continued without waiting for a reply. “Where I come from, they say that the Elders are cleverest of all the foxes—they’re the keepers of foxlore! They know practically everything.” He dropped his voice, although there was no one around to hear us. “It’s said they have powers. Strange magic …”

  I dragged my eyes away from the lights. I thought of Siffrin, who had claimed to be a messenger for an Elder Fox. I remembered what he’d told me.

  They are the guardians of foxlore, the wisdom and teachings of foxcraft. They are the seven wisest foxes of the Wildlands.

  He’d said Jana, one of the Elders, was seeking Pirie. But Siffrin couldn’t be trusted, and that meant that the Elders weren’t to be trusted either. Still, I found myself asking, “Have you ever seen them?”

  Haiki barked with amusement. “Seen them? Me, a simple fox from the lowlands? No one in my skulk has seen them. Some even doubt they exist, but I just know they do. We grew up hearing about them, me and my brothers and sister. We all loved the legends of the Black Fox—how he could turn himself invisible or shape-shift into other cubs of Canista.”

  My ears rotated. Siffrin had mentioned the Black Fox but I’d hardly been listening.

  Haiki gave a wag of his brush. “That’s the most powerful fox of all, the best at foxcraft. Have you heard about foxcraft?”

  I murmured that I had.

  He went on as though I hadn’t. “It’s how the Elders survived the cruelties of the furless. Each age has Elders and a very special Black Fox. This age needs one more than most, wouldn’t you say?”

  My ears flipped back. “What do you mean?”

  Haiki seemed to contemplate me as though for the first time. “Where did you say you were from?” A wary edge had crept into his voice.

  “From the south and across a bit, toward the rising sun.”

  “Not the Lower Wildlands?”

  I chewed a claw in order to avoid his searching gaze. For some reason I didn’t want to admit I was from the Snarl, though I couldn’t imagine what difference it made. “The Graylands,” I said shortly, using the term of the Wildlands foxes.

  Haiki stared at me. “I’ve never met a Graylands fox before. What’s it like there? Is it really as noisy and dark as you hear in the stories?” His eyes trailed over me. “Is that why you were so much better at moving the rock in the stream? Was it some type of … of Graylands foxcraft?”

  “I don’t know,” I told him honestly. “I used the scraps of skill I’ve learned since leaving my den.”

  “You aren’t with family?”

  A shadow crossed my thoughts and I focused on my paw, gnawing away at a clump of dried mud. “I’m traveling alone.”

  Haiki leaped to his paws. “Me too!” He promptly sat, his tail jerking around his flank. “They’ve all gone.” A whine touched his voice.

  I looked up. “Gone?”

  Haiki sighed. “All of them, the whole skulk. I was trying to catch this rabbit, you see. Not a normal rabbit! It had a fuzzy white tail, and white spots on its fur. I thought if I caught it I’d make Ma and Fa proud.” He dropped his head onto his forepaws. “But the rabbit escaped down a hole … and when I got back, the skulk wasn’t there.”

  A chill caught the back of my neck. It was like what had happened to my own family.

  Haiki dropped his voice. “That’s why I’m going to the Elders. If I want to find my family, I’m going to need help. I didn’t know where else to go. The Elders are the cleverest foxes in all the Wildlands. They have to help me, don’t they?”

  I tipped my head in understanding. My voice was tight when I spoke. “Do you know where your family went?”

  “I don’t,” he said quietly. “But I know they didn’t leave by choice. And I know who took them. He must have used his wicked spells. His strange pale eyes, that shrub of a tail. He’s the one who took my family.”

  A hiss escaped my throat. I didn’t need to ask who Haiki meant.

  Wicked spells … that shrub of a tail.

  It was the fox who had ordered my parents’ deaths. The one who had killed my Greatma. Stealer of wills, master of foxcraft. I still didn’t know who he really was.

  I only knew what Siffrin told me.

  He built his den in the Deep Forest, hidden among ancient trees. They say he bends foxcraft to his command. The skulks from the Marshlands spoke of strange noises from the forest, odd smells and disapp
earances …

  It could only be the Mage—the lord of the Taken.

  The air about me felt sticky, trapped in a mizzling rain that carried no breeze. The cool sky didn’t penetrate the web of vines between the branches. Peering overhead, I trained my eyes on the canopy, searching for shards of light. Was it day or night? No sunshine pierced the gloom beneath the trees, no hint of Canista’s Lights. Only a faint yellow haze hung in the air, enough to capture shadows and cast them over the ground before my paws.

  Beetles of terror crawled across my belly. What was this place?

  Life as I knew it did not dwell here. No songbirds trilled in the branches—only the haunting caw of crows. I lowered my gaze. Nothing green dwelled on the forest floor. Not a single blade of grass. Instead strange mushrooms bobbed up from the earth like angry heads, shunting their way in the darkness. Invading the dank soil.

  I sniffed one. Only a faint smell reached me, of something caustic and overripe. The fizz of acid coated my tongue.

  “Watch out!” I yelped. “They’re poisonous.”

  But when I turned to the fox by my side, his eyes were blank.

  I woke with a growl in my throat.

  “What’s wrong?” A soft gray face was staring at me in alarm.

  Dawn was rolling over the mountain. Its warming sun gave the rock a rosy flush and lit the tips of Haiki’s fur. I could make out each whisker at his muzzle, each silvery hair along his flank. His pelt was longer than any I’d seen before. Despite his short, thick limbs his features were delicate: angular brown eyes, a narrow snout. My eyes settled on his foreleg.

  What did I really know about this fox? Only what he’d told me …

  I remembered the scar like a broken rose that I’d seen on all of the Taken—that I’d finally spotted on Siffrin.

  On impulse, I sprang forward. Haiki recoiled but didn’t strike as I shoved back the fur of his foreleg with my paw. Beneath the long gray hairs was a glimpse of pale skin.

  I fell back, ashamed. “I’m sorry.”

  Haiki stared at me. “What were you … ? What was that about?”

  I sighed. I would have to explain a few things. “I was just making sure that you were …” I struggled to find the words. “Like me. That your will hadn’t been stolen.”

  He cocked his head in confusion. “Stolen? How?”

  I wasn’t sure where to begin. “You told me about that fox who took your family.”

  He rose to his paws. “What about him?”

  “Is he known as ‘the Mage’?”

  Haiki ran his tongue over his muzzle. “The Mage … Yes, that’s him. I never saw him, but there were murmurings among lowlands foxes.”

  “I’ve heard things too. I’ve seen the Taken, and I heard that the Mage was responsible.”

  Haiki stared at me with his steady brown eyes. “The Taken?”

  “The Mage’s skulk, though it’s bigger than any skulk I’ve heard of before. The Taken aren’t like us. They don’t think for themselves … They follow his commands like slaves.”

  There was something different about those foxes.

  Something rotten beneath the skin.

  “Their fur is bitter and smells of ash. Their eyes are lined in red and when you look inside you see nothing.” I cleared my throat. “Whoever they used to be, they are hollow now. I hope your family was spared that fate.”

  Fear crossed Haiki’s face. “I don’t know what happened to them, only that they’re gone. But I know it was the Mage. My skulk … They weren’t the first. We heard rumors from the Marshlands. Then the darkness came to us. My family disappeared, gone overnight.” He shivered, despite the warming sun.

  “Mine too,” I whimpered.

  Haiki’s ears twisted forward. “The Mage took them?”

  I gazed at my forepaws. “Those loyal to him tried. My family fought back … Only my brother escaped, but I don’t know where he is. In the Wildlands somewhere. It’s all so vast, even greater than the Snarl. I’ve been here for days and seen nothing but trees and fields.”

  “You mean … Your family’s dead?”

  “My brother’s alive. I’m going to find him—I’m going to find Pirie.”

  “That’s awful.” He dipped his muzzle and gazed at me with sad eyes.

  “I don’t know who’s loyal to the Mage, who’s loyal to the Elders, or what it all means. So I’m wary.” I said it as much for myself as for Haiki—I needed to remember to be careful.

  “That thing you did to my leg …”

  I ran a guilty tongue over my muzzle. “I’m sorry about that. I was checking you weren’t one of the Taken. They bear a mark like a broken rose.”

  Haiki didn’t reply right away. He stood and began pacing along the rock. When he spoke, it was over his shoulder. “Things are changing, Isla. I wish I didn’t have to think about it … A fox can’t live in this world and ignore it, not anymore. You and I are the same. We’ve both lost our families. Nothing matters more than family …” He turned suddenly, his eyes widening. “You should come with me to the Elders! They’ll help us. You said it, the Wildlands are huge—bigger than any fox can imagine. You can’t just go wandering without a plan. We need the Elders.”

  He gazed at me in appeal. I thought of the nights I had traveled alone, watchful and anxious in this unknown terrain. It felt like a lifetime since I’d walked by another fox’s side, though it had only been days. That fox was Siffrin.

  I tried to picture the Elders. Could they be trusted? Siffrin was Jana’s messenger, and he’d lied to me.

  A memory pricked my thoughts—Siffrin’s anguished face as the snatchers pulled away in a mangler, dividing us forever.

  Greatma’s warning returned to me.

  Trust no one but family …

  I pressed my forepaw hard against the rock. “I have to do this alone.”

  The amber sun was climbing over the mountain. Soon it would highlight whatever lurked on the other side. A forest? A valley? The Wildlands were full of green expanses. My tail-tip tingled. Perhaps I lacked the Elders’ wisdom, but I had a secret, a special power beyond the sight of others. I could reach out to Pirie through gerra-sharm. Our bond was so strong that our minds could interweave, collapsing distance through our thoughts.

  The peak of the mountain disappeared into the clouds. It would take all day to climb but if I got there before sunset I’d be able to see in all directions. I would call to Pirie and he would guide me.

  Haiki’s tail was wagging like an eager cub’s. “But we’re both looking for our families.”

  My throat was dry. “Just my brother,” I reminded him.

  “Imagine it!” Haiki yipped. “The two of us across woodland and heath. You can tell me all about the Graylands, and I’ll tell you stories from the lowlands. Soon there’ll be rabbit cubs everywhere. Did you know that they’re born without fur? The newborns are tiny, but so tender.”

  I frowned, my ears twisting this way and that. Had I heard a pawstep somewhere below? Rock was a difficult surface, like the graystone in the Snarl. Fallen leaves betrayed passing paws, but rock was silent. I craned my neck. It was hard to hear anything over Haiki’s chatter.

  “Though mice have been known to have cubs all year round, they’re more active when it’s warmer,” he went on eagerly. “You can hardly prepare yourself for the taste of their cubs! My sister’s an amazing hunter. She caught a litter once. She knew just where to look. They’re quite hairless, you know, when they’re born. Rabbits are too. Oh, I just said that! I wonder if that’s why the furless don’t have pelts—they’re cubs that never grew up?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “And then, another time …” He trailed off. He must have seen the look on my face. “Is something wrong? Ma says I talk too much.”

  “I think there may be—”

  I didn’t have time to finish. A furless rose over the edge of the rock, clutching a long brown stick. He was too far away to catch us, but there was something alarming about his frozen posture, and in the way he’d
angled the stick toward Haiki.

  A deafening explosion ripped through my ears. Haiki leaped from the furless as a burning hole cracked the rock above his head. I smelled fire and smoke, saw the furless rise and start chasing us, but no sounds reached me beneath the shriek of the stick.

  I broke over the rock and pounded uphill. Blood pulsed at my throat as I scurried through crags and sprang over boulders. When I’d rounded a bend, I glanced back. Haiki was just behind me, his mouth twisted in a frantic yelp. I still heard the shriek of the stick, but beneath it I grasped his muffled words: “Run!” and “Hunter!”

  Dizzily I lurched upward. Another look over my shoulder brought no sign of the furless, but I kept on going. My paws pounded over the sunlit rock, skidded on pebbles, and scrabbled to grip on to them.

  Up I climbed, fear driving me on. As the rock crooked ahead of me, I saw flashes of a valley down below. Hedges clung to the side of the mountain. Their branches glanced my flank as I wove between them. Sunlight dazzled the rock, shining against my black forepaws. Haiki appeared at my side. A squirrel shot ahead of us and skittered up the rock face, staring down in alarm. I licked my lips but kept going.

  At last I stopped on a smooth ridge of rock and Haiki flopped next to me. “Are you all right?” he panted. His words sounded muffled; the whine of the stick was still shooting through my ears. I shook my head violently.

  “My ears,” I mouthed.

  Haiki blinked in understanding.

  I looked up the incline of the mountain. It swept away steeply. Beyond it, the sun was high in the sky. Climbing was exhausting, and there was still so far to go. Turning, I surveyed the path behind us. There was no sign of the furless. I knew they couldn’t run like foxes—it might take him half a day to reach us, and how would he track us? Greatma told me that they lacked a sense of smell. It was a wonder they survived without one.