The Elders

by Inbali Iserles

  “That wasn’t her fault,” said Haiki. “How could she have known?”

  Simmi snorted. “Well, she should have said sorry.”

  Haiki spoke with unusual force. “Isla has nothing to be sorry about. She isn’t proud—she’s brave. She’s going to teach us foxcraft, and take us to the Elders. We’re lucky to have her.”

  Warmth ran through me. It didn’t matter that Siffrin hadn’t come, or what Simmi and Tao thought. At least Haiki was here to stand up for me.

  The young foxes didn’t respond. A moment later I heard them gambol along the bank of the stream.

  My tail tapped the grass. What if I tried to find the Rock on my own? Or forget the Elders: I could carry on north to the Raging River and follow the sun to the Free Lands. Maybe Pirie was there.

  Simmi and Tao don’t deserve my help.

  My ears rotated. I remembered the rabbit Karo caught that morning, and its long, meaty leg that I’d gobbled down. Maybe they did deserve my help—or their skulk did at least. And I couldn’t just abandon Haiki.

  But there was nothing to stop me from having a little fun.

  I stalked through the grass, my whiskers twitching. When I spotted Simmi up ahead, I drew in my breath.

  What was seen is unseen; what was sensed becomes senseless. What was bone is bending; what was fur is air.

  My heartbeat slowed and my paws flickered in and out of view. I slipped next to Simmi to hiss in her ear.

  “Too proud, am I?”

  Simmi shrieked and spun around. “Isla, where are you?”

  I ducked into the grass, concealed in my slimmer.

  “What’s going on?” yelped Tao, standing with Haiki by the stream.

  Simmi was craning her neck. She couldn’t see me crouching a brush-length away. “It’s Isla, she’s right here! She must have heard us talking.”

  Through the syrupy gleam of the slimmer, I saw Haiki cock his head. His tail started wagging. “It’s foxcraft!” he barked. “She’s invisible.”

  Tao turned a tight circle. “We weren’t serious, Isla,” he called, facing the wrong direction.

  I trod lightly around Simmi so I was right behind her.

  “Not nice to talk about someone when they aren’t there to defend themselves.”

  Simmi jumped, her back arching. “Stop that!” she spat. “What are you doing?”

  I breathed into the downy fur of her ear. “I’m teaching you to slimmer.” She snapped at the air but I dodged her teeth. “First you draw in your breath as you focus your mind on your prey.” I rolled on the grass, sidling up to her other ear. “Then comes the chant.” She wheeled round but I glided past her, light as a breeze.

  It wasn’t like back in the Graylands; I could slimmer and talk at the same time. I was good at it. “What was seen is unseen; what was sensed becomes senseless.” Squinting through the slimmer, I saw her hackles rise. “What was bone is bending; what was fur is air.”

  Simmi turned in a tight circle. “Stop being creepy! Where are you?”

  “Behind you!” I smacked her leg with an out-stretched paw.

  She flashed her teeth. “I’ll get you, Isla!” I caught the hint of a whine in her voice.

  “How will you do that?” I shuffled close to her puffed-up tail and gave it a sharp nip. Simmi sprang into the air with a yelp. Her voice rose as she spat: “If you want to outdo me with foxcraft, you’ll have to catch me first!” She bombed downstream, launching herself through a bed of ferns. Tao ran after her, panting and barking.

  They were too far away to chase, but I knew that a voice could move faster than its master. I released the slimmer to gasp great gulps of air.

  I karakked, throwing my voice as I used to with Pirie, an explosion of songbirds and cawing crows. I let the sounds circle Simmi and Tao like storm clouds and splash down on them like rain. The two foxes froze, their eyes shooting up to the murky sky.

  “What’s happening?” Tao whimpered. “Where are all the birds coming from?”

  Haiki snorted with delight, staring at the young foxes. “It’s Isla. She’s karakking!”

  I used the karak to throw my own voice, letting it spin through the chirping and cawing. “To karak, there is no chant. You must know the call you want to mimic, know it in every detail and trill.”

  “Isla, is that you?” barked Simmi.

  Tao shook his ears. “Her voice is bursting through my head.”

  I drew in my breath. What was seen is unseen …

  I prowled toward them, past Haiki. His ears pricked up, as though he could sense me through my slimmer.

  Simmi and Tao were less aware. They backed against each other, wide-eyed. I crept up to them easily.

  “We mustn’t let her catch us unprepared,” Simmi hissed. “Isla’s good at foxcraft.”

  “I’m all right.”

  Tao shrieked. “She’s behind us!”

  I threw my voice to the air once more, letting it spiral around the young foxes.

  “Maybe I’m behind you. Maybe I’m in front of you. Maybe I’m everywhere.”

  Simmi stumbled against the tree. “Amazing,” she murmured. She couldn’t see me through the slimmer; she was bewildered by the birdcalls.

  I edged closer to murmur in her ear. “Where am I now?”

  She slammed against me. The shock of her contact broke the slimmer and cut across my karakking voice.

  “There you are!” she panted. “You sneaky beast!”

  I gave her a lick on the nose, to show there were no bad feelings.

  Tao’s brush was thrashing. “I can’t believe you did all that!”

  “Isn’t she great?” yipped Haiki proudly.

  The three young foxes sprang on me, batting and nipping playfully.

  “Teach us!” barked Tao.

  Simmi pawed my foreleg. “Yes, show us how, Isla!”

  I looked overhead. Dusk had settled into a rich, dark night. The moon was the color of bone. “Sure,” I murmured, rolling back on my haunches. “But you’ll have to catch me first!”

  * * *

  We wound along the edge of the stream. Simmi and Tao took turns drawing in their breaths and spitting out crow caws. Slimmering proved to be more of a challenge. Tao struggled to slow down his heart rate and Simmi only managed a few beats before her dark coat grew visible.

  “You’ll get better with practice,” I told them.

  I was less sure about Haiki. The lowlands gray couldn’t even karak. His talent seemed to lie in unmasking the arts, once I had shown him how. Blinking rapidly, he could cut through my slimmer and easily locate me. When Simmi and Flint karakked over him, he set his muzzle and ignored them.

  As the others drank thirstily from the stream, I looked to Canista’s Lights. Clouds blotted out the stars. Was the moon floating behind them, or had it already set?

  “We should probably get back,” I sighed.

  Tao shook the water from his whiskers. “Greatfa won’t believe our foxcraft!”

  Simmi bumped up alongside him. “I can’t wait to karak for Mox!”

  “I’m hungry,” said Tao.

  Simmi nipped his ear. “We only just ate!”

  Tao ran his tongue over his muzzle. “Foxcraft is hard work! Ma buried a rabbit for later, maybe she’ll let us have it … I can practically taste it!”

  Haiki licked his chops, capering beside them.

  “Last one there gets the tail!” Simmi barked. She stormed across the meadow, her brush floating behind her.

  “The flank is mine!” snarled Tao, springing after his sister.

  We raced through the grass, dodging between ferns. Simmi was several brush-lengths ahead. “Me first!” she barked. “I get the rabbit!”

  As I nosed into the nettles, Simmi screamed. I sprang through the foliage and stumbled to a halt. She was frozen, her ears pressed flat. Tao cowered by her side.

  The smell of smoke rose in the air.

  “What is it?” I breathed. Steeling myself, I padded closer. Then I saw them: Rupus, De
xa, and Mips. The vixens were lying by the entrance to the den, deep gouges etched into their flanks. In death, they huddled together. They were of the same litter—a bond that had stayed with them to the end.

  Sickness rose in my throat. Swallowing hard, I trod closer to Rupus, who was slumped alone by a bowing fern. The hint of a defiant snarl was etched in his muzzle. His round eyes glared unblinking, cloudy as ice. I gave him a nudge with my snout. His body was floppy and cool.

  I shrank back with a yelp.

  Simmi started toward the den. “Where are the others?”

  Smoke coiled above the entrance. Its acid pelt stung my nose. “Be careful!” I hissed. I remembered the stench from my own den the night my family disappeared.

  Simmi paused. “What happened?”

  “The Taken,” I murmured. “They’ve been here.”

  Tao whined and scrambled to Simmi’s side.

  “Does that mean … ?” Her voice faltered.

  I dipped my head.

  Her tail wrapped tightly around her flank. “But they left Greatfa. They killed Dexa and Mips.”

  I drew in my breath. “I doubt the Mage needs elderly foxes. Only foxes he can use.”

  Tao shook his head, bewildered. “Use for what?”

  Simmi’s lips peeled back. “Don’t you get it? The Tailless Seer has captured Ma and Fa, and Mox too. They’ve been pleached—their wills have been stolen.”

  Tao recoiled, his muzzle trembling. “I don’t believe it!”

  “It’s true,” I said quietly. “They’ll be part of the Mage’s skulk now. Only foxes fit to fight.”

  Tao’s eyes were wild. “They won’t do it! Not Ma or Fa, they’ll resist!”

  Haiki turned away. “They won’t have a choice.”

  Tao jutted out his snout, refusing to accept the truth. “They’ll protect Mox, I know they will. He wouldn’t fight, not for the Tailless Seer—not for anyone. He couldn’t even kill a mouse!”

  The distant cackles of the Taken rose from the Ghost Valley. I shuddered, my eyes tracing the darkness. They seized on a shape at the base of the hazel bush. At first I thought it was a rock, a mound of earth. But there was fur.

  Only foxes fit to fight …

  I blinked, dread twisting in my gut.

  Mox was curled with his head on his paws. In death, he looked so small.

  He might have been a cub.

  A sharp, metallic smell clung to Mox’s body. I took in the curve of his narrow back, the bones sticking out beneath his fur. The whiskers were relaxed on his gray-smudged muzzle and his eyes were closed, as if in sleep.

  It was Simmi who breathed his name, her voice thick with grief. “Mox. Our own dear Mox.”

  Too frail to be of use to the Mage, too gentle to recruit to his army of Taken. They might have let Mox go—it wouldn’t have done any harm.

  Simmi and Tao threw back their heads, their voices shrill against the night. Haiki whimpered, shuffling low to the ground.

  I stood still. I could feel a faint vibration against my paw pads, rising up my legs. Dark thoughts consumed me. The Mage showed no mercy for the weak, just as he attacked the strong. My family flickered before me—Ma, Fa, and Greatma—a vision that vanished into the gloom of memory.

  Gekkers exploded from the border of the meadow. I whipped around to face the others. “The Taken. They’re close.”

  Haiki threw a panicked look into the darkness. “They’re coming back! We have to go.”

  Tao snarled with rage. “I’ll kill them! Every last one of them!” He made as though to run at the Taken.

  I leaped into his path. “There are too many,” I hissed. “And they won’t be alone. To pleach, they need a free fox—one of the Mage’s inner guard. The Narral are experts in foxcraft. You wouldn’t last a heartbeat.”

  With a chill, I remembered Siffrin’s warning.

  If you see a skulk of Taken, and one is a free fox, run for your life!

  Tao collapsed onto his belly. He buried his muzzle in his paws with a whimper. “There’s nothing we can do … nothing.”

  Simmi stood, blankly staring at the smoking den.

  Another shriek of gekkers. The long grass stirred near the hazels. The Taken must have heard the yowls. They were coming back.

  Haiki dropped to Tao’s side, nudging him with his snout. “Come with us,” he soothed. “We’ll find the Elders. That’s something. Don’t give up …” Tao rose on quivering legs. He let Haiki lead him toward the nettles. Simmi followed blindly, her fur on end.

  As I slipped behind them, through the nettles, the shadowy figures arrived at the den. I paused, concealed in dense foliage—seeking out the Narral.

  It wasn’t hard to identify him. Among the red-eyed Taken stalked a fox with the frame of a dog. He was nothing like Karka—there was no power in his squat limbs. He looked almost comical: his auburn fur was greasy and his ears stuck out at strange angles. His round chest gave him a clumsy gait, while his blunt snout made him look foolish. But there was cunning in his eyes.

  * * *

  We ran through the meadow, along the path of the stream. Our pace didn’t slow until the land curved up toward the forest and we reached the first cluster of pines. A sliver of light touched the eastern horizon, the first sign that the long night had broken.

  We rested briefly. Simmi and Tao curled together, and Haiki lay by my side. I longed for sleep but my mind was a nest of wasps.

  The Great Snarl was rigid, with its walls and endless graystone. In the Wildlands, everything moved. Branches fanned the wind, bobbing with new buds. Grasses shivered and birds dived overhead. The forest was alive with chirping and buzzing—with hissing voices and hooded eyes.

  We set out again as the sun rose higher, edging around the tree-lined hill where Siffrin had fought the coyote chief.

  Siffrin … Why hadn’t he returned? What if something had happened to him?

  Simmi and Tao were up ahead, walking side by side, tails dragging behind them. Haiki padded toward me and gave me a lick on the nose. “It was a tough night. How are you?”

  “I’m all right.” I glanced at Simmi and Tao. “I wish we could have done something. If only Siffrin had come back.”

  Haiki looked at me warily. “I’ve been thinking about that.”

  My whiskers twitched. “Go on.”

  His voice was soft. “Don’t you think it’s strange how he left when he did? Just before the den was attacked.”

  “You can’t mean …” A chill ran along my back. I thought of the red-furred fox. Siffrin was arrogant, dismissive. Selfish, even. But he was no friend of the Mage.

  “I can’t stop thinking about it,” said Haiki. “All the promises he made. I wonder if he ever meant to take us to the Elders. Maybe he just said that to keep you happy.”

  My ears flicked back. “Why would he do that?”

  Haiki shook his ears. “I don’t know. I just have a bad feeling … I’ve had one since he arrived that night, bringing the coyotes with him. Who is Siffrin? I mean, who is he really?”

  A tremor of color crossed my mind, of red against red, a vision from maa-sharm. Marshlands, a stalking vixen, a tiny cub at the edge of a forest. A creeping yellow mist and the stench of decay.

  I blinked and the image disappeared. Bars of white sunshine leaped between the trees. I caught a familiar sound—the yawning hum of manglers. So it was true: the deathway cut deep into the Wildlands. Even here, the furless were never far away.

  “Be careful,” I called to Simmi and Tao. No one answered. My ears pricked up. “Where are the others?”

  I picked my way through the bracken, Haiki by my side. Shards of light broke overhead. The pines were further apart now, the ground growing rocky. “Simmi? Tao?”

  Tao appeared from behind a tree. I was surprised to find him bright-eyed. His tail even gave a small wag. “Isla, Haiki, come quickly! Simmi’s found an amazing hunk of meat!”

  Simmi was standing by the trunk of a pine. She looked up excitedly as we approached. “Y
ou won’t believe it. I thought it would be hard to catch our own food, but I just found this! It smells so good.”

  I peered over her shoulder. Tao was right—there was a huge hunk of pinkish meat lying on the grass, boneless and hairless, ready to eat. The spicy-sweet smell was intoxicating. I looked around. Who had left this kill? It couldn’t have been here long. As I licked my whiskers and craned my head, a flash of ginger fur reflected back at me.

  “What’s that?” The meat was encased in two wire loops, and rising from each were serrated teeth.

  “It’s all right,” Simmi assured me. “I saw that, but it isn’t moving.” She raised a forepaw toward the meat as Haiki and Tao watched eagerly.

  Why would anyone abandon a slab of meat in the forest? Why would they lodge it between wire loops?

  The deathway hummed nearby. I thought of the jagged world of the furless, a land of sharp edges and shiny walls. The snatchers with their cages; the beast dens with their endless bars.

  “Leave it!” I hissed and Simmi quailed, backing away from the meat. Haiki and Tao stared at me in surprise.

  I was sorry to alarm them. The meat was the first thing that had lifted the young foxes’ spirits. I looked about, found a wooden stick, and lifted it in my mouth. I slid the stick toward the meat and gave it a prod. Instantly, the wire jaws sprang to life, smashing together violently. The wooden stick snapped in two.

  Simmi gasped. “That could have been my leg!”

  Tao looked sickened. “How did you know?”

  “The furless,” I murmured. “I grew up among them.”

  Haiki backed away from the wire jaws, which remained clamped together. “But why?” he whimpered. “Why would they do it?”

  How could I answer him? There was no “why.”

  * * *

  Wariness hung over us. Simmi and Tao were somber again, and Haiki paused often to sniff the air. Perhaps he remembered the furless with the stick. Small creatures scratched around the forest floor. A mouse scampered beneath the trunk of a tree. A squirrel darted along a branch. None of us tried to hunt. It felt safer to keep moving.

  Steadily, the groan of the deathway grew louder. Simmi and Tao exchanged glances, their tails dragging behind them. Haiki fell into step by my side. Nobody spoke.