"I notice," she said, removing her Fang from its Mouth and scrupulously cleaning off every drop of water, "that as we move farther away from the edges where the ocean beats, we see more signs of the humans who once lived here. From what Blind Seer and I had seen, I had thought they dwelt on these islands in scant numbers, but now I see this is not true."
Dark Death rose and waded into the inlet, testing the depth.
"Not yet shallow enough," he said, then shook the water from his coat. "From what I have been told the humans never clustered as thickly on Misheemnekuru as they do now in u-Seeheera. These islands were where the great and powerful made their dwellings. However, many lesser ones lived here as well."
Firekeeper weighed this against what she had learned about how the powerful among humankind lived.
"From what I have seen elsewhere," she said, a hint of scorn in her voice, "among humans those who have nothing must do everything for themselves, but those who have wealth or power are waited on as if they were nursing mothers or young pups. In a wolf pack, the Ones lead and take their share. They give the most and so get the most."
Blind Seer snorted.
"Firekeeper, you make the matter too simple. From what I have seen, sometimes there is good reason for the fashion in which humans organize their packs. Do you think that King Tedric could find hours enough in both day and night to do all that he must do to keep his kingdom running smoothly if he must also cook his own meals or keep his own lair fresh?"
Firekeeper immediately knew Blind Seer was correct, though she felt curiously uncomfortable at this realization. After a moment she realized why. Blind Seer had frequently chastened her when she had overstated the superiority of the wolf way over that followed by humans. However, this was the first time that others had witnessed her chastisement. She resented it, but knew she could not fail to acknowledge his point without opening herself to even greater criticism.
"I suppose a king's hunts are different hunts," she replied a trace sullenly, "his kills different kills." She brightened then, having thought of something that would save her from completely conceding. "Still, you must admit that many of those humans who are waited upon do nothing to earn this privilege."
"There are many idle ones among the nobility," Blind Seer agreed, without any sense of having been shamed. "But you spoke of how the Ones earn their privileges by leading. All I wished to clarify was that the human Ones worked for their keep, even if it might not seem so to a casual observer."
"I have never lived among humans," Moon Frost said. "How do these do-nothing-get-everythings exert their will?"
Firekeeper and Blind Seer went on to explain about money, inheritance, and titles. The wolf-woman had the feeling that their explanations were less than completely successful. Neither Dark Death nor Moon Frost had gone among humans, and the human culture they did know placed less weight on inheritance than on divine selection.
As they struggled to answer the Wise Wolves' questions, Firekeeper realized that Blind Seer actually had a better grasp of the intricacies of human culture than she did, for all that she was human born and he was not. While she had mostly been content to superimpose the order and rules she had learned from the wolves onto the various human cultures they had encountered, the blue-eyed wolf had attempted to learn some of the reasons—or at least rationalizations—behind the customs practiced by the humans.
The discussion filled long hours of running after they had swum across the inlet, and continued during the rest that filled the heat of the afternoon.
"It seems to me," Moon Frost said, "that much of your northern humans' strange behavior must come from their having no knowledge of the deities. Instead they set their own families up as little deities. They then pile up wealth in worship of these deities."
"That is too simple," Blind Seer protested. "Wealth is the means for meat and drink for these human packs. Moreover, they seek to emulate the best qualities of their ancestors—to live up to their heritage."
Moon Frost was not convinced.
"As I see the situation, each lineage can only be as strong or as weak as those who came before them. From what you have said, it seems that many of these families weaken over time as they accumulate useless members who draw on the family for support, but give nothing in return."
Firekeeper didn't know how to answer this. She herself had yet to understand why someone graced with nothing more than a title should automatically be considered the better of someone like Derian. On the other hand, she felt a desire to defend the people of Hawk Haven and Bright Bay. No matter how confusing they were, they were the stock from which she had been bred.
And who would I put in my ancestors' shrine? she asked herself. Prince Barden and Sweet Eirene? Someone else whose face and voice I cannot recall? Dry bones all.
Yet Firekeeper felt uncomfortable with this dismissal. She was greatly relieved when Blind Seer responded directly to Moon Frost's comment.
"I know nothing of deities, and only a little more of those who worship them, but it seems to me that belief in deities could be as restrictive as trust in ancestors. Where your system is very strong is that in addition to old lore there is a constant flow of new lore—these omens and divinations in which humans and beasts alike place such trust. What will happen if trust in those is lost?"
Moon Frost replied with confidence. "Trust will not be lost. The deities will guide us through even this difficult time."
Dark Death rose and shook the bracken from his fur.
"The worst of the heat is gone. Let us continue. Would you hunt now or when it is cooler?"
"As the trail brings us game," Firekeeper replied. She knew the question applied to her. The wolves ate more heavily with each meal and consequently could go longer without eating. "Will we come to another place where we must wait before swimming across?"
"Likely so. Moon's face is coming full."
"If something does not strike our trail before, then," Firekeeper said. "I can always fish or forage then. Summer brings many opportunities."
Although the trail was not completely without opportunities for foraging, especially in the form of berries and early summer fruit, Firekeeper was ravenous by the time they reached their next stopping point. She was not so hungry, however, that she failed to carefully examine their surroundings.
"Humans lived here once," she said, knowing from past inspections what lay beneath the tangled vines and clusters of young trees. Here the vines were predominantly honeysuckle, which granted the cooler night air a delicious perfume.
"Many humans," Dark Death replied. "We are nearing the central island, and that was a place where many humans lived."
Firekeeper puzzled over this. Why would wolves—and she was certain that Dark Death had said he was taking her to his birth pack—choose to live near human ruins? Bats would favor the artificial caves. Hawks might choose to nest at the top of some ruined tower. Small animals like mice and rabbits might den among fallen rocks, but neither bats nor hawks nor the little diggers were a wolf pack's chosen prey. Perhaps deer grazed in the meadows?
Dark Death sensed her confusion and clarified.
"You asked about the maimalodalum. From what you and Blind Seer have told us, the humans who colonized this land and those who colonized further north were alike in one thing at least. They relied upon arts that permitted them to manipulate Magic's power, but they did not teach those arts lightly to those born in their colonies. Nor did they wish their subordinates to easily observe the inner workings of their craft. The place to which we are going, where you will find those who can answer your questions about the maimalodalum, is the primary place in Liglim where the magical arts were done."
Despite herself, Firekeeper felt awe and a surge of fear. She had been suppressing that fear ever since she had learned of the maimalodalum and knew they achieved their goal through magic. Even more than their human neighbors, the Royal Beasts had reason to hate and fear magic, and Firekeeper had been suckled on their tales. More rec
ent events had done nothing to quell her fears, but she could not give in to them without giving up her hopes.
"That follows as certainly as fresh eggshells mean fledglings," Firekeeper replied. "I simply had not thought the matter through."
Her belly rumbled loudly, reminding her that magic or not, she needed food.
"No wonder," laughed Dark Death. "I could not think clearly if my belly was shouting so loudly. Will you catch fish?"
Firekeeper glanced at her surroundings. There was willow aplenty.
"I'll make a fish trap," she said, "and while I see if the fish are fooled, I'll forage. If humans lived here once, their crops may have reseeded. Then, too, some fruit trees live a long time."
"I scent fresh water," Blind Seer said. "While you make your trap, I'll find a source free of salt. There must be many if humans made a village here."
Moon Frost hadn't decided whether she envied Firekeeper for her omnivorous habits or despised her just a little. However, though she had teased Firekeeper, she had always kept her teasingjust this side of good manners. So she spoke now.
"And in case the fish aren't to be fooled by traps, and the trees will not give fruit, I will sniff out a rabbit or so. These humps of vine and stone must hold as many warrens as the sky does stars. It would not do for Firekeeper to dine on crickets."
"I'll join you, Moon Frost," Dark Death said. "Even if Firekeeper's hunting is successful, I would not turn away a hot mouthful or so."
They went their separate ways. Firekeeper wove a crude fish trap in very little time. She stilled the worst of her belly rumblings with a few handfuls of fresh watercress, then climbed a tree to see if she could locate in the rise and fall of the tree line where there might have been an orchard. Even her superior night vision could see little more than dark against darkness, but she had learned how to understand what she was seeing.
Despite her hunger, Firekeeper felt very relaxed. The warm air was a caress and the calls of Dark Death to Moon Frost as they harried the rabbits she found as comforting as Derian did the rumble of carriage wheels over city streets. Then a sharp, shrill cry, more yap than howl, broke the easy pattern of night sounds. It cut off far too abruptly.
Firekeeper was down from the tree almost before the sound stopped echoing against the air. She knew that voice. It was Blind Seer's.
Swift as the wolf-woman was, the other two wolves were swifter. They came from different directions, for they had been seeking to drive the game from hiding. Firekeeper saw them leaping over the broken remnants of walls, heard them crashing through bracken and vines, sacrificing stealth for speed.
There was good reason for their choice. Other than that one sharp cry, there had been no further sound from Blind Seer. Wolves, like humans, are very vocal. Unlike humans, wolves suffer beneath no burden of false pride when it comes to asking for aid. Blind Seer should have been crying for help. The only reason he would not were if he were being prevented—or if he were unable.
While Dark Death oriented on the sound, Moon Frost dropped her nose to the ground, casting about for Blind Seer's trail. As this slowed her some, it was Moon Frost that Firekeeper caught up with first.
They exchanged no comments, none of the "What happened?" or "Did you hear what I heard?" that might have colored a human meeting under similar circumstances. Moon Frost followed the scent trail while Firekeeper followed Moon Frost. At the same time, Firekeeper kept an eye in the direction from which the cry had come. Dark Death had stopped and head-raised, was sniffing the air, his golden eyes still and unfocused as he used this much more reliable sense.
Moon Frost slowed as she drew near, pausing with a tangle of vines between her and Dark Death.
"Freshly turned earth," Moon Frost reported, "broken stone, torn plants, and water. Blind Seer's scent is mingled with these, but fainter."
"I smell it this way also," Dark Death said, moving to join them.
Too late Firekeeper recognized what the nose-oriented wolves had missed. As Dark Death stepped forward, the tangle of vines between them bowed beneath his weight. He scrabbled, but the springy vegetation gave him no purchase—and there was nothing beneath the vines that could hold his weight. He fell, giving forth an abbreviated yap far too similar to that which had been the last sound from Blind Seer.
Firekeeper attempted to leap back, but the force of Dark Death's weight had been sufficient to tear loose the already precariously balanced earth beneath her feet. She felt the dirt shift as the rock it rested upon gave. Then she was falling. The last thing she did was make herself limp so that the landing might be easier.
After that, there was only darkness.
Firekeeper came to herself with a throbbing head, a sharp ache in her backside, and a lesser one in her shoulders. She heard motion in the darkness around her and took some small hope from it.
"Who's there?" she asked.
Dark Death replied, "I am. I can smell the others, but I have not heard them move. I smell blood as well."
"Hot blood or cold?" Firekeeper asked.
"Cold and hot both," Dark Death assured her. "I hear two breathing, though the note is ragged."
"Hold, hunter," Firekeeper said. "I will try to make a light so that we can move without harming ourselves."
"Firekeeper," came the reply, the notes colored with honest admiration. "I had forgotten."
Normally, Firekeeper would have felt some pleasure at this, for Dark Death was guide, but not really friend. Now all she felt was worry for Blind Seer. She didn't know for how long she had been knocked out, but she knew that however long that had been, Blind Seer had been unconscious longer. Dark Death's report was slim comfort in this situation.
Firekeeper opened the drawstring bag she wore about her neck, locating flint, steel, and tinder by touch. She had made many fires in the dark, but rarely with so little idea of whether once she had the flame would there be anything for her to burn. She could feel bracken all about her, but all nearest to her felt green and flexible.
She tugged off her cotton shirt, wincing at the pain in her upper back. When she had fallen, she must have hit first on her rump, then her shoulders, and lastly her head. The back of this was tender, but there was no blood.
When she had the shirt off and placed to one side, Firekeeper set to work striking sparks. At last a few began smoldering in the tinder. Then a pale flame arose. She fed it with strips torn from one sleeve. Using that increased light, she found drier pieces of wood within the litter of vegetation surrounding her.
Her entire world became that hungry little flame. Her breath existed only to fan it, her reason for being keeping it fed, making it grow. In the surrounding blackness, Dark Death sneezed as the smoke trickled upward, but he had watched her make fires before and knew a little of what she needed. He carried over twigs and hanks of dried vine, augmenting her supply before she ran low.
Firekeeper accepted these offerings automatically, never speaking, saving her breath for nursing the single flame into many. Eventually, the fire was strong enough that she could mix greener material into the fuel. This made for more smoke, but slowed the fire's consumption, made it chew its food rather than swallow it whole. Finally, there came the moment when she could raise her head and see what the darkness had hidden.
Broken slabs of stone canted up from heaps of dirt and vines. Bracken was sprinkled over the whole. On one side, water seeped from a segment of wall. Near this lay Blind Seer, half buried in stone and dirt. Moon Frost was closer to Firekeeper, also partially buried in material that had fallen with them, but it was to Blind Seer that Firekeeper went.
"Don't move anything," she cautioned Dark Death, for the wolf had moved to sniff Moon Frost. "We must look carefully else more may fall on us."
"Remember your own warnings" was the other's reply.
Smoky firelight proved to be enough to reassure Firekeeper that Blind Seer did indeed breathe. She bent her head and smelled his breath. Once she had assured herself that it carried the odor of neither bowel nor b
lood, she relaxed slightly.
The fire needed feeding, so reluctantly Firekeeper moved back. Once she had it burning brightly, she moved to Moon Frost.
Dark Death crowded next to her.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his nose snuffling next to hers.
"A friend who is a healer taught me something of his art," Firekeeper said. "Smelling the breath tells you if bowel or lung has been broken."
"And what good will this do?" Dark Death asked. "If something is broken, it is broken. Lungs and bowel are both beyond hope, unless one of the talented is near."
Firekeeper held herself from striking him. She knew Dark Death wasn't callous. His way was the practical—even fatalistic—one of the wolf.
"Then you may be pleased to know that neither Moon Frost nor Blind Seer seem to be so harmed. We must uncover them carefully, though, for I cannot tell merely by sniffing if bones are broken or bent. We may do damage if we are not cautious."
"I thought," Dark Death said, "to seize them by the scruff and pull them free."
"No," Firekeeper insisted. "That might cause further injury—or cause further falling of things from above."
Again she moved to tend the fire, thinking over what she had learned from Doc. Perforated bowel was indeed almost certainly fatal. This was because the bowel carried shit out of the body. If the bowel was broken and the shit contaminated what was within, nothing short of a miracle could save the victim.
Lungs were not as bad, for they might mend without spreading contamination, but if they were too badly broken they would collapse and refuse to carry air. Firekeeper did not think any damage had been done to either Blind Seer's or Moon Frost's lungs, but Doc had warned her that sometimes a wound to the lungs was temporarily closed by the very thing—such as a bit of rib—that had made it. This then was one reason for moving the injured ones slowly.
Another was the possibility of broken bones or deep cuts. These also might be concealed or temporarily bandaged by the fallen dirt and stone. Better to be ready to treat them before they were found.
Wolf Captured Page 43