Wolf Captured

by Jane Lindskold

  There was such a hard, angry light in the young man's hazel eyes that Rahniseeta feared to ask what else Waln Endbrook had done. She gave the shopkeeper a few tokens for some of the green cloth. By the time the transaction was completed Waln and Shivadtmon had gone off in the direction of the harbor.

  "Well," she said, "Shivadtmon is not a fool. One of the reasons he dislikes Harjeedian is that he felt he should be given the berth as disdu on Fayonejunjal. Harjeedian won it, not only because of his skill with languages, but because many of the disdum felt that Water already had honor enough in supplying the ship, her captain, and much of her crew."

  Derian looked at her.

  "Water did? As in the Temple of Water? I had the impression that this was Fire's project."

  Rahniseeta could see Derian was no longer interested in shopping, so led the way into a pleasant park where they could sit and talk in relative privacy. She bought them chilled drinks from a vendor, and led the way to a bench surrounded by roses. Anyone watching them would think they were courting, not conspiring—or so she hoped.

  "The project was begun under the aegis of Fire," Rahniseeta said, "but Water is the patron of most things related to the sea. It only makes sense. Air has some say when sailing vessels are concerned, but Earth and Fire are distinctly in second place."

  "And Magic?" Derian asked. "Where does Magic fit in?"

  "Magic is in a strange position," Rahniseeta said. "We do not abhor her, as your people do, because it is her touch that enables us to communicate with the deities. However, sorcery carries with it the taint of the Old Country rulers. Therefore, though all acknowledge Magic, none practice her arts except to reach the divine."

  "I think I understand," Derian said. "So Shivadtmon doesn't like Harjeedian because he thinks Harjeedian got his berth. This sounds awful, but is Shivadtmon associated with Dantarahma? I mean, other than their having started out in the same temple."

  Rahniseeta had been having similar thoughts, but they sounded somehow harsher and more final coming from Derian.

  "He might be," she said. "He well might. Harjeedian said the level of Shivadtmon's disappointment at not being chosen was inordinate, 'As if he had been promised the post in advance.'"

  "I think," Derian said slowly, "it would be very good if you could find out more about Shivadtmon. Even if he isn't part of Dantarahma's group, anger and resentment are good tools for getting people to do what you want."

  Rahniseeta nodded. "You are very right."

  Derian glanced up at the sky.

  "I've a bit of a ride back to u-Bishinti," he said. "May I walk you home?"

  Rahniseeta blinked but found nothing forward in Derian's expression, only kindness and courtesy.

  "And if Barnet's in, I can at least stop to say a few words," Derian went on.

  Rahniseeta wondered why this further proof of the young man's good-mannered thoughtfulness should leave her feeling so very disappointed.

  Chapter XXX

  Not one or the wolves asked Firekeeper about what had precipitated 'her flight when she and Blind Seer returned. Perhaps the blue-eyed wolf had taken advantage of leaving to hunt to give them some explanation. Perhaps the Wise Wolves respected her privacy—certainly they had secrets enough of their own. Whatever the reason, Firekeeper was grateful.

  That the pack had already eaten was evident in the rounded bellies of the two puppies. These fought a mock battle over a strip of hide, invigorated, as were all their kind, by the cooler air of night and the exciting scents carried in the breezes off of the water.

  Integrity came closest to prying into the reasons behind Firekeeper's reactions, but even she was circumspect.

  "We had thought you might not believe our tale," Integrity said, "but it seems rather that you believed it all too well."

  "What you told me spoke to something deep within my heart," Firekeeper replied. "Perhaps I knew all too well that something as wonderful as the ability to adopt another's shape could not be had easily. Even more, I have seen some strange things these past two years. Tales of magic are not as strange to me as they would be to most northerners."

  "So Blind Seer has told us," Integrity replied.

  Integrity licked between the many toes of her deformed paw, and Firekeeper found herself wondering whether those members of the pack she had not yet seen also bore some stigmata. Were the Wise Wolves of this central island recruited from puppies such as she had seen in Grey Thunder's pack? Was this island a home to those who could not be permitted even the chance of being seen by humans—but who were still treasured by their pack members?

  But Integrity was speaking, and that demanded Firekeeper's attention, for reason of good manners if nothing else.

  "There are things we would show you," Integrity said, "things that are intertwined with the maimalodalum. Will you look or would you prefer to rest further upon what you now know before… "

  The One Female trailed off, and Firekeeper knew she was being offered an opportunity to further calm herself. Therefore, whatever it was Integrity and Tenacity wished to show her was likely to be upsetting.

  The night before, Firekeeper had slept where she could reach out and touch Blind Seer; it would have been cruel to sleep as she so often did with her head pillowed on his flank in this damp, sticky heat. Her sleep had been dreamless, but several times she had shaken herself awake rather than let the dreams rise. Despite a growing sense of dread, Firekeeper knew what her answer must be.

  "I am willing, Integrity, and I thank you for the honor. Am I right in guessing that these things which you are about to show us are among those things of which one does not speak?"

  Integrity twitched her overlarge ears, almost as a human would have chuckled.

  "See for yourself. Then tell me what you think."

  With that, Integrity rose, and her mate and pups rose with her. The pups seemed to have some idea where they were going, and took pleasure in it. For the first time, Firekeeper realized that Moon Frost and Dark Death were not present.

  She asked after them and Tenacity replied, "Moon Frost's broken leg was well set. No wolf could have done for her what you did. Even so, the injury is giving her pain. One of our pack has a talent for healing. Dark Death is arranging a meeting."

  Firekeeper grunted her thanks. She was just as glad not to have the others along. Moon Frost was positively humble these days, but there was threat lurking beneath her surrender. Wolves took advantage of weakness in their rivals, and Firekeeper knew how weakened she had been by the truth about the maimalodalum.

  Dark Death was another matter. His changed attitude toward her had initially amused and pleased her, but having embraced her own feelings toward Blind Seer with greater honesty than ever before, Firekeeper realized that Dark Death's admiration for her was a threat to Blind Seer.

  These thoughts kept her from worrying about where they were going as they climbed the slope to where clustered stone towers blocked out the stars with their height. Blind Seer raised his head to better catch some errant scent, but made no other comment. Nor did the other wolves—who must have noticed the motion and its implicit question—offer anything in reply.

  Firekeeper dropped one hand to her Fang, but did not draw it. She wondered if she should ask for the wolves to permit her to make a light. What good would it do to show her whatever it was by moonlight? Her night vision was far better than that of any human she had met, but even so…

  She was about to ask Integrity to wait when a door swung open in the base of the centermost of the towers and warm golden light flooded out. It illuminated a long rectangle of paved courtyard in front of the door, and in that light Firekeeper pinned down something that had been bothering her.

  The area here was too well maintained for ruins. Her feet had met none of the rolling crumbles of stone, or the unevenness caused by weeds and grass thrusting their way between slabs that she had subconsciously expected. The towers she had seen outlined against the sky showed no broken battlements, no collapsed roofs. The
buildings had been maintained. Why would even the yarimaimalom bother to do that?

  Firekeeper wanted to stop, wanted to grind in her heels and demand explanations, but the two puppies were running eagerly ahead. Neither of their watchful parents made any move to stop them, and so Firekeeper went toward the spreading light, trying very hard to remain unafraid.

  Blind Seer pressed close to her.

  "Odd smells," he said softly, "but there is no tang here of fear or hate. Nor do the Wise Wolves smell of anything other than the mildest concern. Come along. Haven't we fought our way out of worse?"

  Firekeeper actually wasn't sure that they had. Fighting their way out of things didn't happen very often, and it always seemed that one of them ended up severely injured. Still, she understood the spirit of Blind Seer's brag and resolved to live up to his confidence in her—or rather, to his confidence in them.

  Puppies before them, Integrity and Tenacity behind, Firekeeper and Blind Seer walked through the golden-lit door. The portal was wide enough that they could pass through side by side, and Firekeeper wondered if the humans who had built the place had been larger than the humans today, or had only wished to give the impression that they were giants.

  The room they entered was rounded, comprising the entire base of the tower. The only interruptions in the vast space were regularly spaced pillars whose purpose might have been to support the beams of the floor above, but which might have been purely ornamental. Even Firekeeper, usually indifferent to art as she was to most things that were not strictly useful, saw the beauty in the shaping of these columns and was impressed.

  But even the elegant pillars with their fanciful shapes could not hold her attention beyond a flickering instant. Gathered at the far side of the large chamber, as if to emphasize by their position that they would not stand between their visitors and the door, were a doubled hand of the strangest creatures Firekeeper had ever seen.

  Not one was a creature that Firekeeper could name, but in their making were elements she recognized. Horns like those on a bull. Feathers. Shining iridescent scales. Antlers that would have been the pride of any buck. Stripes identical to those running down the tail of a skunk.

  Even in the clear light within the chamber Firekeeper could hardly make her eyes see sense. Not even the costumed creations of New Kelvin rivaled this lot for variety and strangeness. Those costumes mimicked monstrosities through the clever use of fabric or fur or tanned hides. These before her were living bodies that held within their shapes impossible combinations of form.

  Firekeeper stared. Then she pressed her hands over her eyes and, after releasing them, stared again. The assembly remained. The monstrosities studied her and Blind Seer. In those many eyes Firekeeper found a focus and sought to find individuals.

  Integrity broke the silence that had dominated the encounter to this point.

  "These," said the One Female, "are the maimalodalum."

  "Maimalodalum?" Blind Seer repeated, his voice thickening to a barely suppressed growl. "Are they immortal then?"

  "No."

  The answer came from a figure that was shaped somewhat like a human, but a human with bluish grey feathers sprouting out all over her body. The feathers were short over her torso and trunk, longer on her arms, as if some force had sought to shape the arms into wings and halted midway in frustration. The bird-woman's face was human, but her eyes were bird's eyes, and her nose was short, sharp, and very narrow.

  "We are the descendants of the maimalodalum of whom Integrity has told you—the ones in whom the battle between beast soul and human soul pressed the body into conflict, so that rather than gaining the ability to change into one form or the other the soul was trapped within a body that was neither."

  Firekeeper swallowed hard. This bird-woman reminded her somewhat of a shape Blind Seer had taken in a dream forgotten until this moment. Yet if the bird-woman was unsettling as a dream, many of those clustered behind her were nightmares. This creature at least wed two recognizable forms but most of the others borrowed from four or five sources, merging them into function without harmony.

  So there were wolf's ears on a mostly human head, this head attached via a long neck to a body crafted in hybrid of wolf and jaguar, the whole overfurred with spots akin to those on a jaguar's coat though colored in shades of grey, not gold and black.

  Another creature possessed an eagle's head on a snake's body. The sleek scaled torso sprouted very human arms and legs, though these were patterned over with scales to match the whole rather than naked as human limbs should be. The latter portion of the snake torso trailed behind the creature's legs as if it were the tail on an upright lizard.

  Yet another of these maimalodalum bore a superficial resemblance to a hirsute man or a brown bear standing on its hind legs. Then she noticed the maimalodalu's hands and feet ended in heavy, rounded claws. She looked at its face, expecting to meet the small fierce eyes of a bear, and found instead the slit pupils of a snake. The tongue that lashed out as the creature inspected them was a snake's as well.

  And these were the creatures easily parsed. The others possessed such an incomprehensible blending of limbs furred, scaled, and naked, of bodies defended by fangs, claws, stingers, that Firekeeper found herself studying details. Her mind simply refused to grasp the whole.

  Only one thing was constant in all the maimalodalum. Whatever their shape, color, or size, the eyes that studied Firekeeper in return held intelligence. The weirdly shaped bodies bore themselves with rational control. The Royal Beasts who had raised Firekeeper had divided the spectrum of living things between Royal Kin and Cousins, and in the maimalodalum Firekeeper could not deny that what stood before her were kin.

  At her side where his fur brushed lightly against her, Firekeeper felt Blind Seer tremble. She knew that at the least excuse he would flee. She, too, wanted to run, but after her earlier panic she was done with running. Run as fast as she would, the puzzle offered by these strange creatures would remain, and though she might swim all the way back to Port Haven, and from there run west into the mountains, and there hide beneath her mother's belly, still the question would remain.

  "You are the descendants of the maimalodalum," Firekeeper said, forcing her voice not to quaver. "Yet I thought the beast-souled were one and one. Your shapes hold many."

  The bear-snake-man growled, "Your eyes are not impaired, at least."

  Firekeeper flared, "But how? How has that happened? Did the spells go amiss? Did the plague heat twist you so?"

  The bear-snake-man replied, "Yes, but not as you mean it. We are the descendants of the maimalodalum who survived the Fire Plague. Those who bore us came here for safety—and for other reasons—and so we have remained."

  "Those who bore you?" Firekeeper tried to stifle the distaste in her voice, but the bear-snake-man heard it nonetheless.

  "So are love and children only for the beautiful, Firekeeper? Are they only for those who resemble each other? I thought you would better understand—given your own inclinations."

  Firekeeper flushed hot with shame.

  "I… am stupid. The Wise Wolves told me of how the yarimaimalom once bred for talents and tainted their blood. I thought… I am a fool and very confused. Forgive me."

  The bird-woman spoke. "Our blood is not tainted from overbreeding as is that of our Wise kin. We are children of the yarimaimalom who won their struggle against the sorcerers, yet that battle is one that cannot really be won. Many who defeated the attempt to take their forms and kill their will died. Those who lived found themselves trapped in bodies that were neither one creature nor the other. These fled into the wilds, knowing the sorcerers would destroy them. The yarimaimalom, however repulsed they might have been, at least felt pity."

  The human-wolf-jaguar spoke, and at the sound of that voice Firekeeper felt a strange thrill, though the voice was rough and not at all musical.

  "There were three compensations given to those who survived what the sorcerers would have done to them. First, although
some were sterile, most could have children—if they could find a mate." The too-human lips curved. "I believe wolves have a saying 'Like knows like best.' We have no 'like' but ourselves, and our greatest likeness is that we are all unlike."

  Firekeeper nodded understanding, but was still too ashamed to speak.

  The human-wolf-jaguar went on, "The second compensation was that though many of our ancestors fell ill during the Fire Plague, very few died. The third compensation is related to this. Just as we inherited spots or fangs or claws from the Beast portion of our pairing, so we inherited traits from the human side. Only sorcerers could attempt to become maimalodalum, and the ability to do magic is a talent, not merely a skill."

  Blind Seer spoke as one who thinks aloud: "So all of you are sorcerers?"

  "Not quite, Blind Seer. Rather all of us have a latent sensitivity to sorcery—a sense rather than an ability."

  "I do not understand," Blind Seer confessed.

  "Nor I," Firekeeper said.

  "Think of any of your senses," the human-wolf-jaguar said. "Vision, perhaps. You can see what is in your line of sight, but you cannot take out your eyes and throw them away from you and still see what they gaze upon. So it is with us. We can sense sorcery, look upon it as it were, hear its call, feel its vibrations, taste its tang in the air, smell its taint—but we cannot work original magic any more than you can manipulate an item merely by looking upon it or hearing the sounds it makes."

  Firekeeper blinked. "That is a very good explanation."

  "We have had," the bear-snake-man said, his earlier irritability dampened now, "a long time to work on it. Generations, in fact."

  Firekeeper felt a blush rising again, but tried to answer calmly, "Then you have spent your time well."