“We have to go!” cried Selene.
Tam gripped Bo’s arm and tried to haul him up, but Bo wouldn’t budge.
“I won’t leave him,” he said, voice muffled by sobs. “I can’t.” He gripped Nix’s fur tightly, blood staining his hands. He knew the cave was collapsing, that Freja could return any moment and the Shadow Creature was gathering itself for another attack, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He would stay here forever if he had to; he was not leaving Nix behind.
Tam pried Bo’s hands from the tufts of deep orange fur, then knelt and gently lifted Nix from the ground, cradling him in her arms. “Come,” she said quickly.
Though his limbs were weak and his heart heavy, Bo stumbled after Tam in a daze, dodging rocks and the Shadow Creature’s thrashing tail, smashing the walls behind them.
As they ran through the tunnel opening, Selene turned back and threw her magic at the cave roof until the whole thing collapsed, locking the Shadow Creature inside.
Bo crumpled, scuffing his knees as he fell to the ground.
He was cursed. He was a curse to those who loved him.
He rubbed the heel of his palm against his chest; though the crystal pendant still burned faintly, he felt nothing. He was empty inside.
“Stand up,” said Tam. “We have to keep going.”
“What’s the point?” Bo could not bring himself to even look at the tiny bundle of bloodstained fur in Tam’s arms. He choked on a sob. “I lost my best friend and Mads only used me and my mother didn’t want me and I won’t be able to free the wolf and convince him to give us the Stars—I just know it.”
There was a pause; silence hung heavy in the air around them.
“It is for nothing if we stop now,” said Tam.
“It is for nothing!” shouted Bo, his words echoing off the rocky walls. “It’s all for nothing!”
“Nothing?” said Selene, incredulous. “It isn’t nothing to me. I’m glad you came on this adventure and we met. You made me feel better about discovering my magic when everyone else made me feel like a curse. You were my first friend. And we’re going to find the wolf’s cage and we’re going to release the Stars and we’re going to rid this land of Darkness and Shadow Creatures and that evil, vengeful witch.” The Nev’en smiled at Bo through her tears. “Don’t tell me that’s nothing.”
“I’ll never be able to defeat Freja. She’s too powerful.”
“Perhaps,” said Tam. “But you will not know unless you try, and there is power in trying even when you know you might fail.” She cradled Nix in the crook of one arm and held out the other for Bo to take. “You do not have to face this alone. From here on out, you will never be alone.”
Bo blinked at the Korahku’s outstretched hand, the hand of a creature who should’ve been his enemy but instead had been his protector, his friend. Tam had lost everything—her sister, her father, her flock—and yet she had still been willing to risk her life for a stranger. Selene, too. She didn’t have to rescue them with her magic when Ranik attacked, and she didn’t have to help Bo find the Scribe and figure out the riddles on the keys. But she helped him anyway. Maybe Tam was right. Bo had lost Nix, but he wasn’t alone.
Part of Bo wondered why—why would they risk so much for him? He wasn’t worth it. Look at everything he’d done wrong! But another part—the voice inside that had always been shouted down by the villagers and the nasty, hateful things they convinced him to believe about himself—reminded him of all the good he had done. Hadn’t he proven that it didn’t matter how many times he failed? He’d always tried again until he’d succeeded. He had chased after the keys, even when it seemed all was against him. He had solved riddles and fought monstrous creatures and faced up to his fears. He had made unlikely friends and learned it was pointless trying to earn the love of people who had none to give. He had been scared but he had also been brave, and his friends had been beside him the whole way, fighting for him, believing in him. It was time he started believing in himself.
Just like Nix always had.
He would not let the little fox down now. He would find the wolf and release the Stars—he would get that wish he so desperately needed, now more than ever.
So he took the Korahku’s hand and stood.
* * *
They trudged for miles and miles up narrow passages, still guided by the glowing keys in his pocket and the orb of Light Selene had cast to bob along in the air in front of them. Bo stole glances at Tam and the little fox in her arms, and each time, the sight knocked the air out of his lungs.
He gripped the crystal pendant around his neck. It had long since cooled but it offered Bo a strange sort of comfort.
When they reached a crossway they paused: left, right, or straight ahead? Each way looked identical. Each looked Dark and forbidding.
“What do the keys say?” asked Selene.
Bo pushed his hand into his pocket before suddenly he grew rigid. “Did you hear that?” He paused, waiting to hear the sound again, but there was nothing. What had he heard? A voice? A groan? He held his breath: Had Freja returned? Was she chasing after them? Was it another Shadow Creature?
There!
There it was again!
A song! Someone was singing a song!
A song Bo knew . . .
Without waiting to see whether his friends would follow, Bo took the left path, clambering over rubble, pushing off from the narrow walls, the Light orb dancing through the air ahead of him. He didn’t need the keys anymore.
Selene and Tam called after him, the thump, thump, thump of their footsteps chasing him. But he did not pause. “Hurry!” he called. His heart raced. The voice was growing louder, loud enough for Bo to fully make out the words: “Wolf so hungry, wolf so bold, don’t hurt us, do as you’re told . . .”
There was only one person—one creature—who would be singing that song right now, deep in the tunnels of Lindorm Mountain.
Bo’s footsteps echoed off the rocky walls, mingling with the husky singsong voice drifting down the passage.
“Little Star, little Star, the hungry wolf knows where you are. He’ll chase you round, up and down, he’ll never stop until you’re found . . .”
Selene called Bo’s name but he didn’t turn around. He reached another crossway and paused to listen.
“One, two, three . . .” said the voice, louder now. Much louder.
Bo turned down the left path again, running full speed.
“The hungry wolf has fed, now all the Stars are dead . . .”
Bo’s footsteps pounded, his breath laboring.
“The Dark will come, you’d better run, now all the Stars are dead.”
Bo gripped the wall as he came to a sudden stop. The passageway had led them to a small cave, the orb hovering near the roof, casting soft white Light across the dank space. Water dripped down the walls and in the center was a cage of golden tree roots.
But all Bo could focus on was the wolf.
He was a haggard, broken thing, all bones and patchy red fur and hollow eyes. He was trapped inside the tree roots and tethered to the ground with silvery ropes that slithered and hissed.
Bo felt Selene and Tam come to a standstill behind him.
Selene’s breath hitched in her throat. “Is that—”
The wolf looked up, a sly grin revealing his fangs. “Company,” he said with a voice as sharp as the rib bones jutting from his skin. “How nice. Though I am never alone. Always such noise. Can you hear them?”
Bo took a tentative step forward. He squeezed his hands into fists to stop his arms from trembling. “I heard you singing. Is that what you mean?”
The wolf tried to shift forward, but the slithery ropes pulled tight and Bo winced at the sudden stench of burning fur and flesh. That was when he noticed the crisscross of burn scars covering the wolf’s pelt.
“Never alone,” said the wolf. “They sing to me. Such sad songs.”
The wolf hunched, his milky white eyes meeting Bo’s, and he could f
eel the wolf’s pain, as though an invisible tether linked them.
“You’re the wolf who ate the Stars,” said Bo. He felt Tam press a hand to his shoulder and squeeze gently.
The wolf lifted his chin, a nod. “My name is Hagen. Mathias imprisoned me. To keep Freja from the Stars. So much power. Too much. It aches. It burns.” The wolf pressed his nose between two tree roots and sniffed the air. “They haunt me. I can’t quiet them. They writhe and scream in my belly all day and all night and it drives me mad. Can’t you hear them?”
All Bo could hear was his own labored breath and the zizzing crackle of the slithering ropes.
“Won’t you set me free?” said the wolf. “Have waited so long.”
“If I do, will you give us the Stars? We need them; the world is dying and there’s Shadow Creatures and a witch and I need a wish and—”
“I do not want them,” said Hagen. “Set me free of these chains and I will give them to you. You have a deal.”
Bo could have cried in relief—he had done it, found the wolf and, soon, the Stars. It would be worth it. He could fix everything and get his wish.
Bo dug his hand into his pocket and gripped the three keys—they were almost too hot to handle now and were glowing so brightly Bo could see them through the thin material. He swallowed over the lump in his throat and stepped forward.
“Careful,” whispered Tam. “How do you know you can trust him?”
Bo looked into the wolf’s eyes. They were the same eyes as those of Ranik, the creature who had killed Mads and tried, over and over, to kill Bo. Would this wolf be the same?
Hagen tilted his head, gently nosing the tree roots that formed a cage around him. “When you set me free, we can release the Stars together before the witch can destroy them. We will end the curse.”
“I do not like this,” said Tam.
Bo turned to face her; it was still a shock to see Nix cradled in her arms. It knocked the breath out of him.
“I do not like it at all,” continued Tam. “There is too much risk. I promised you safety and this is not it. We must find a way to set the Stars free without releasing the wolf.”
“But—”
“What if you free him and he eats us?” said Selene, narrowing her eyes at Hagen. “He looks hungry.”
Bo turned to look at the miserable, bone-thin wolf in the cage. How long had he been chained here for? It wasn’t even his fault he had eaten the Stars; Freja had tricked him. Bo understood perfectly how it felt to make such a terrible error and to have so many people pay for it—he understood how it felt to have made such mistakes because of lies others told you. But Ranik had said he wanted to rule over Ulv with the power the Stars would give him. Was Hagen the same? Was this a trick? Did Bo want to save Nix so badly that he was ignoring an obvious lie?
And then Bo heard a sound.
It was quiet at first, barely a whisper.
The whisper danced in the air, weaving and twisting until it had slithered deep into his ears, and then it was screaming. It was the sound of a million Stars crying out, wailing at the pain of being hidden in a wolf’s belly for hundreds and hundreds of years, the pain of being unable to do the one thing they were created to do—Light the world—and it was killing them. They were dying! The Stars were dying. He could feel it in their voices.
Bo covered his ears, scrunching up his face; he couldn’t bear to hear any more. It hurt too much. “Stop it!” he cried. “I’ll do it! I’ll free you! Just stop! Please!”
Tam shook Bo by his shoulders. “What is wrong? What can you hear?”
The screaming Stars grew louder and louder until Bo feared he would shatter. He doubled over in pain, begging for it to stop.
And then it did.
There was silence save for Bo’s heavy panting.
He looked up and into the eyes of the wolf.
And he understood.
He knew what he had to do.
Bo took tentative steps toward the wolf, despite Tam’s calls for him to come back. “I trusted another enemy once,” said Bo with a glance over his shoulder at Tam. “And I don’t regret it for a second.”
“Ah well,” said Tam, and nodded. “Ah well.”
Bo trembled as he approached the wolf, who waited with his head bowed, his eyes on Bo’s every step. Bo pulled the three glowing keys out of his pocket and frowned at the cage of golden tree roots.
“There!” said Selene. She nodded at the base of the cage. “A keyhole!”
Bo bent down and sure enough there was a small gold keyhole. He inserted the first key into the lock and turned it.
Bo braced himself as the entire cave shook, rocks raining down around him as the tree roots slowly untangled and rose through the air. They were absorbed into the cave roof, exposing the wolf and the web of silvery ropes covering him.
Bo sucked in a shaky breath and stepped forward.
“The chains,” said Hagen.
Now that Bo was closer he could see that the silvery chains shackling the wolf were snakes. They moved constantly, coiling around Hagen, holding him down. It appeared they were magic of some kind, and Bo knew from the burn scars covering the wolf that they were too hot to touch.
“I don’t know how,” said Bo, frowning. The snakes had little red eyes that scrutinized him as he sucked on his bottom lip in thought. Perhaps . . .
Bo took several steps to the right and began a slow loop around the wolf. There had to be a keyhole somewhere . . .
He found it on the other side, at the base of a tethered snake tail: a little silver lock. He crouched and carefully inserted the matching key, then turned it without touching the snakes. With a click, the snakes slithered into the ground, disappearing into nothing.
Bo stood quickly and backed away.
But the wolf did not move.
“The collar,” said Selene.
There was indeed a collar around the wolf’s neck that Bo had not noticed, hidden as it had been by the slithering mass of snake chains. It was thick and coppery and dug painfully into the wolf’s throat.
Hagen watched Bo as he took a step forward. To free the collar, Bo would have to come face-to-face with the wolf, barely a wisp of air between them. He took another step. And another. The stench of burnt skin and fur was overwhelming; Bo could not take his eyes off the wolf’s yellow-stained fangs, thick and curved and sharp.
“Careful,” warned Tam.
“I’m okay,” whispered Bo. His heart beat hard and fast against his rib cage. Please don’t eat me, please don’t eat me, please don’t eat me . . .
He reached out a trembling hand, shivering as his fingertips brushed the wolf’s fur, and gripped hold of the copper collar. He inserted the final key into the lock just beneath Hagen’s chin.
Bo turned the key and the collar fell away, shattering as it hit the ground, vanishing in a haze of sparks.
Bo stumbled backwards as the wolf arched his spine. A breath caught in Bo’s throat as Hagen turned to look him in the eye and smile. So much like Ranik.
“Free,” he said, and stepped forward. “Free at last.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The wolf continued to creep forward, pawing the ground before each step with a cautious pet, pet, pet. He kept his shoulders hunched and his ears back. Bo stumbled until he hit the cave wall, fear squeezing like a claw around his stomach. Had he done the right thing?
Hagen shook out his mangy fur, wincing. The magic ropes had vanished but he remained cowered as though still chained; those crisscross scars would never let the wolf forget. He blinked slowly, running his tongue along his lips. He eyed Tam and Selene.
“Thank you for setting me free, Irin child. Tell your friends I mean no harm.”
Tam and Selene scuttled out of the way as the wolf padded past them and into the passage. “Follow me,” he said, and vanished around the corner.
Bo’s mouth opened and closed a few times. Finally, he said, “I guess we just . . .”
“Follow the giant magical wol
f with the Stars in his belly?” said Selene with a wry quirk of her lips. “Sure. Why not?”
“Simple,” said Tam, and turned to do exactly that.
The wolf zigzagged upward through the mountain maze, never faltering at junctions; it seemed he knew the way. Perhaps the Stars in his belly were whispering directions. But where they were headed, Bo did not know.
“Not far,” said the wolf. Bo could tell they were nearing the outside—they were walking steeply uphill, headlong into a swirly breeze, cold enough to make Bo shiver.
Bo checked over his shoulder for Tam and Selene, the Korahku still cradling Nix.
“Hurry,” said the wolf, his breath labored. “We need to be as close to the heavens as possible before—”
All at once, a distant thump-ta-thump drifted up the passageway from behind them.
Bo froze.
“What’s that?” said Selene, fear fracturing her voice.
“Hurry,” snarled Hagen, breaking into a run.
Bo chased after the wolf, adrenaline sparking like fire in his veins. The thump-ta-thump haunted their every step; whatever was coming was big and fast and unrelenting.
When they finally breached the surface, they were high up Lindorm Mountain, where the wind howled and the pale Light was slipping beyond the edge of the fourth quadrant—soon it would be half-Light.
Bo gasped as he craned his neck; the Dark was gathering in writhing clouds above them. He could vaguely make out teeth and claws and talons thrashing in its depths. The Light was low in the sky, nearing the horizon.
“Don’t look,” warned the wolf, turning to climb the snow-tipped rocks higher up the mountain.
“Where are we going?” shouted Tam, hunching her shoulders against the cold, snowflakes gathering on Nix’s fur.
“To the top,” said Bo. He shielded his eyes against the falling snow and climbed after the wolf.
The wind and snow lashed at them, and all the while the Dark crept closer, pressing down upon them. The falling snow was so thick Bo had trouble seeing the wolf ahead of him.
Not far from the top of the mountain, the thump-ta-thump, thump-ta-THUMP grew louder than the wind and snow and Dark. Through the half-Light and swirling snow, Bo turned and saw Ranik charging toward them.
The Boy, the Wolf, and the Stars Page 23