The Boy, the Wolf, and the Stars

by Shivaun Plozza

  At the sound of Bo’s voice, the wolf lifted his head, but Bo gently placed his hand on the creature’s cheek and eased him down.

  “Don’t move. Save your energy. We’ll get you help, I promise.” Bo sat back, wiping his wet cheeks with his hand. Through tear-blurry eyes he watched blood seeping into the snow from the gash in the wolf’s belly.

  “Not much time,” wheezed the wolf, a smile playing at the edges of his lips. His chest was heaving—small, sharp breaths that did not seem to gather enough air.

  “We can fix you,” said Bo. He ran his hand along the wolf’s mottled fur, fingertips brushing every rib, every scar. “Selene’s got magic. She’ll fix you.”

  “Can’t be fixed,” said the wolf. Despite his agony he smiled at Bo. “But I am free now. We are all free. Look up.”

  Confused, Bo tilted his head back and gasped when he saw the night sky.

  It was so bright!

  Bo didn’t have words to describe it. It was like nothing he had ever seen. All those little diamonds of Light—how did they manage to make the Dark seem so . . . beautiful? Bo couldn’t imagine how he could ever have been afraid of the Dark before now. Because it was still Dark. But it was Light, too—it was both in a perfect, mesmerizing harmony.

  Bo stared into the heavens and could not look away, not even when his neck began to ache. Tam came and stood by him.

  “We did it,” said Bo, and tightened his grip on Hagen’s fur. He looked down at the wolf and smiled. “We freed the Stars.” He was happy they had saved Ulv but his heart ached, his throat constricted. If only the Stars weren’t so far away; if only I had been able to catch one before they found their way home . . .

  “Galvin?” asked Tam.

  Bo looked up at his friend and shook his head.

  “Ah well,” said Tam, reaching out to squeeze Bo’s shoulder. “I am sure you did your best.”

  Bo knew he had but it still hurt. He lowered his gaze to the wolf; his chest was barely moving now.

  “Hold on,” whispered Bo. “Please hold on.”

  But Hagen’s eyes fluttered to a close. “I am free,” he said with a smile. “I am free.”

  Bo waited but the wolf did not open his eyes again.

  He was gone.

  Bo stroked the wolf’s fur and murmured his goodbye and thanks. He heaved a shuddering breath and sat back on his heels. Tam let him sit in silence for a long time, shuffling away to give Bo space.

  Eventually, Bo felt labored breath huffing against the back of his neck. He turned and saw Ranik. Bo couldn’t help the frightened gasp that shot from his mouth but he was frozen to the spot, unsure what to do. He might have scrambled to his feet and made a run for it if it weren’t for the wolf’s eyes.

  Ranik was bruised and bloodied but there was no more rage in his eyes. All that was left was sadness.

  So much sadness.

  “Brother come. With me now,” he said.

  He nudged Bo with his snout—Bo fell to the side, skidding out of the wolf’s way. He watched as Ranik gently clamped his jaws around the scruff of Hagen’s neck before dragging him through the snow. He was limping and burnt from the Light and his progress was painfully slow. Bo watched the wolves depart, chest aching. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to scrub the stench of death from his skin.

  Tam came to stand by Bo again, reaching out a hand.

  “Brave child,” she said as she helped Bo to his feet. The snow glowed white around them, glistening in the Star-Light. Bo looked up and the pain in his chest eased a little.

  “Aren’t Stars the best?” said Selene as she joined them. She waved her hands and created a bubble of warmth around them, then tilted her head to the sky. “They wink at you, don’t they? Like it’s all some kind of joke and they’re laughing and they want you to laugh too. I like that.”

  Though Bo didn’t feel much like laughing he knew what she meant. He hoped one day soon he would be able to laugh along with the Stars.

  “They are truly beautiful,” said Tam. “They were worth fighting for.”

  Bo’s chest contracted at the bittersweet sadness in her voice. He understood it—she had lost so much and yet had gained so much, too. They all had. He glanced at Nix, motionless in the snow.

  “Did we really defeat Freja?” Selene asked. “For good?”

  Tam brushed her finger over the crystal pendant hanging around Bo’s neck. A shiver rippled up and down Bo’s spine at the thought of the Shadow Witch trapped in something he was wearing. That she had been there all along. “I would guess that a direct hit of Selene’s pure-hearted magic to the crystal sent Freja back to her prison,” said Tam. “With the Stars restoring balance to magic, it should be for good this time.”

  Bo nodded, his fingertips hovering over the pendant as he eyed it carefully.

  “That was very smart of you to work out, Bo,” Tam said, lowering her gaze until she could catch Bo’s eye. “You protected the land and its people. Ulv owes you a debt.”

  Bo blushed.

  “It owes all three of us a debt,” said Selene, folding her arms across her chest and raising her chin.

  “Four,” said Bo instinctively. “All four of us.” Because there had been four of them. Bo, Tam, Selene, and Nix. Bo felt a fresh wave of grief overtake him, bitter and painful and never-ending. His heart grew so heavy he could barely stay upright.

  But then Tam held out her hand and in her palm was a little diamond of Light.

  Bo sucked in a breath. It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t . . . “Where did—”

  “This one didn’t survive. I plucked it from the air as it was falling. And I have a feeling you need this more than anyone else.” Tam pressed the Star into Bo’s hand.

  “But don’t you want it?” Bo asked. He knew that both Tam and Selene had much they could wish for. But both of them shook their heads. Selene was fervent.

  “It’s yours,” she said.

  “Thank you,” murmured Bo. He could not take his eyes off the Star—it felt pleasantly warm against his skin and he couldn’t shake the feeling that when he listened very, very carefully he could hear it still singing.

  Selene held her palm over Bo’s, her long, narrow fingers splayed. Bo felt the Star pulse as a small blue flame began to ease out of the center of it.

  “I read that scroll to you, remember?” she said. “Wish-catching is a dangerous art but luckily you know someone who can extract a wish without losing any fingers because she has magic. And because she’s very smart and very talented and very brave.”

  Bo watched with awe as the little blue flame was dragged all the way out; the Star shivered and died and all that was left in Bo’s palm was a blackened rock. He let it fall to the ground and accepted the ball of surprisingly cool blue fire that Selene dropped into his palm. For a long moment he stared at it—a wish!—with anticipation stomping through his insides like an angry troll. He felt sick and he felt terrified but he felt so much hope.

  “Close your eyes and repeat your wish three times,” said Selene. “That’s what the scroll said.”

  “Make it a good one,” said Tam.

  Even though Bo had spent a long time thinking about the wishes he would make—all those things he had wanted: his mother, to have Mads back, to be accepted by the villagers, for his life to go back to the way it had been before—there was only one true wish in his heart. He didn’t have to think twice.

  Without even taking a breath, Bo looked over at the little crumpled fox, then scrunched his eyes closed and wished three times: Bring him back to me, bring him back to me, bring him back to me!

  He gasped when the wish grew hot in his hand, a flash of heat that wasn’t painful, just unexpected. The wish fizzled and sparked and then—zap!—it was gone and his palm was empty.

  Selene laughed. “That was incredible!” she said. “Did you see it, Tam? All those colors and the sparks and the sound and the . . .”

  But Bo wasn’t listening because he was waiting, watching Nix in the snow and wait
ing.

  Nothing happened for a long time—too long.

  Why wasn’t it working?

  The angry troll stomped within him, beating his fists against Bo’s rib cage and wrapping his tree-trunk-thick arms around Bo’s heart and squeezing.

  Still, nothing happened.

  Bo looked down at his empty palm.

  Was he too late?

  Had he done it wrong?

  Had he ruined his only chance?

  He squeezed his eyes shut again: Bring him back to me, bring him back to me, bring him—

  And then Bo heard a small whimper.

  A familiar whimper.

  Hope burst like a wildfire in his chest as he opened his eyes. He could hardly breathe! Tam stepped aside so Bo could run to Nix. He fell to his knees beside the fox, unable to believe what he was seeing.

  The little fox sat up—all his injuries healed except for the scar on his snout—and licked Bo’s arms as Bo flung them around his best friend and held tight.

  Nix was alive!

  Bo’s wish had come true.

  Nix was alive!

  “You’re back,” said Bo. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  Nix barked.

  “Am not,” said Bo. “I’m not crying—I’ve just got snow in my eyes.” Nix barked again and Bo couldn’t help laughing, breathless bursts of laughter that shook his whole body and made him feel more alive than he had ever felt.

  “Don’t leave me again,” he whispered into the fox’s fur, hugging him close. “Couldn’t bear to be without you.”

  He held the fox until Tam told them they had to go. And even then, he held him longer still.

  Eventually, Bo wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands and stood. Nix stood too, not a mark on him. He shook the snow from his fur and pressed close to Bo’s calves.

  “Me too,” said Bo. “Me too.”

  Selene gave Nix a scratch behind the ear, and then Tam offered a little pat, pat, pat to the top of his head after the fox nipped at her heel and barked.

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” said Tam. “Guess I am glad to see you again too.”

  Bo was so happy he thought he would burst.

  Selene was staring up at the sky, a wistful frown wrinkling her forehead. Bo moved to stand beside her and looked up too.

  “Stars mostly fall in the Valley of One Thousand Deaths,” he said, bumping her shoulder lightly. “We can go there, if you like. We can wait for a Star to fall and you can make a wish. If there was someone you wanted to find . . .”

  Selene’s lips pressed together in a grimace. She turned to Bo and shook her head. “He doesn’t deserve to know me,” she said. “And I hope you know that any parent who leaves their child in a forest to be eaten by Shadow Creatures doesn’t deserve to know you either.”

  Bo grinned. “I think you might be right,” he said. “Besides, the Valley of One Thousand Deaths sounds like a very dangerous place and I’ve had enough adventures for a lifetime.”

  Tam chuckled. “No more adventures? Then perhaps you will want to find a forest where you can live in a hut and ask no more questions. Does that sound good?”

  Bo fought the urge to stomp on Tam’s foot. “That sounds awful. And just for that, I plan to ask you at least ten questions a day for the rest of your thousand years. How about that?”

  Tam laughed, a rich, warming sound. “We may have to find a compromise, yes?”

  “You can ask me, Bo,” said Selene with a hand over her heart. “After all, I have read the most scrolls in the Great Nev’en Library.”

  “Or you could teach me to read for myself,” mumbled Bo, lowering his eyes. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

  But Selene clapped her hands, bobbing up and down on the spot. “Oh yes! I like that idea. I’m going to be the best teacher ever and put Sister Magrid to shame. Ha!”

  Bo nodded. “Then let’s go,” he said, his voice hoarse, but he couldn’t stop smiling. He didn’t even care that he had no idea where they would go from here; he had his best friend back and two new friends by his side and that was all that mattered. Things would certainly be different now that the Stars were back and the Shadow Creatures defeated. Would the Moon return too? What would life be like now that there was so much magic in the land? So many questions and for once Bo didn’t mind not knowing the answers: perhaps because he knew that he had the courage, the wits, and the friends to help him discover them.

  “Do you think I could find someone to teach me how to use my magic properly?” asked Selene.

  Tam nodded sagely. “With magic such as yours, you will be captain of the Queen’s Guard in no time.”

  Selene jumped up and down. “Oh, I’d like that,” she said. “I’d like that very much.” Nix jumped too, barking and yapping. “And you can be my second-in-command, Nix. You’re very brave after all.” Selene and Tam began to walk away.

  “Will they have a job for me?” asked Bo, hurrying to catch up to them, Nix on his heels.

  “Perhaps they will have a job for all of us. There is much to do now that the Stars have returned,” said Tam. “Let us see, shall we?”

  As the four of them trekked down the mountain, Bo looked over his shoulder. He could have sworn he saw a constellation in the sky, a little pattern of Stars that shone brighter than any of the others.

  It was in the shape of a wolf.

  The True Histories of Ulv, Vol. MMCI

  The Return of the Stars

  One morning the people of Ulv woke to a dust storm—cloying, ash-black dust that thickened the air and caused a stench worse than the Surslang Dragon of Sur’s breath.

  Not that they knew it at the time—not everyone can be all-seeing, you know—but it was the Shadow Creatures turned to ash by Star-Light and left to be tossed about by the wind.

  Nevertheless, the people stayed indoors, fearful of what would happen if they breathed in the dust or let it touch them. They sat by their windows and watched it slowly float away.

  And then night came. And oh my. Doors and windows were thrown open and people poured onto the streets, where they wept and danced and hugged and howled with glee because the Stars! The Stars had returned and their Light kept the Dark at arm’s length and the people felt safe again.

  They celebrated all night long.

  But as day came and the Stars faded from view, instead of laughter and crying and singing there were whispers: Where had the Stars come from? Where had they been all this time? Were the Shadow Creatures gone for good? How come the trees were returning to life? What had caused the flashing Lights and screams and howls on top of Lindorm Mountain two nights before?

  And then came the stories, stories that traveled from village to village, never quite the same each time as they passed from one mouth to the next. It was a troll! He kept the Stars hidden in his cave for centuries! The Stars were in the Forest of Tid all this time! No wonder we thought it was haunted! A giant ate the Stars and when he fought with a kroklops and was killed, they burst from his belly! The Korahku stole them—see? I told you they were evil! The Queen had them plucked from the night sky to top off her personal collection of wishes but they must have escaped!

  Until finally the people began to tell the story of a boy. The story of a boy who had been abandoned in a forest to die. He was an Irin child and he had three friends: a Korahku, a Nev’en, and a fox. It was the story of a boy and a mistake and three keys and a wolf and a witch and a wish.

  It was a good story, best told huddled close to someone you love under the Star-Light. And it was told again and again and again until no one could be certain how true it was, but they liked to tell it nonetheless.

  It gave them hope.

  Acknowledgments

  This story has been a long, long time in the making. So I’m incredibly happy and relieved and proud to finally have it finished. And, of course, finishing it would not have been possible without a little help from my friends . . .

  Big, big thanks to my agent, Katelyn Detweiler, and all at Jill Grinberg Litera
ry Management, for championing this book and for not blinking an eye when this YA contemporary writer thrust an MG fantasy at you. A special thanks to Cheryl Pientka for being there at the start.

  I cannot express how wonderful it has been to work with the gang at HMH Books for Young Readers. To have found a home for Bo’s story with people who love it as much as I do has been truly special. Thank you to Nicole Sclama for being a brilliant editor—your enthusiasm for the story and the characters (especially the Scribe!) has made the process of publishing a book easier than it has any right to be. Thanks also to Cat Onder, Emilia Rhodes, Mary Claire Cruz, Mary Magrisso, Samantha Bertschmann, Margaret Rosewitz, and Anna Dobbin. Special thanks to Rawles Lumumba for your valued insight. And to Julia Iredale for your absolutely gorgeous cover illustration.

  And of course thanks must go to the ever-lovely Michelle Madden and Lisa Reilly at Penguin Random House Australia. Thanks also to Tina Gumnior, Dot Tonkin, Marina Messiha, Amy Thomas, Deb Van Tol, Kristin Gill, and everyone else.

  Thanks as always to my writers’ group: Rosey Chang, Marie Davies, Cathy Hainstock, and Sarah Vincent. Your support and advice are second to none. Thanks to Eddie and Cath for the use of your beautiful home when I needed time and space to finish this thing.

  An early draft of this book won mentoring time with the incomparable Kate Forsyth through the Australian Society of Authors mentorship awards. Thank you, Kate, for your astute advice and thanks also to the ASA for bringing the two of us together.

  I would also like to thank the many students, teachers, and librarians I’ve spent time with over the last few years. It’s such a privilege to spend time with young people to talk books and writing and life—thank you for welcoming me into your classrooms and libraries. A special thank-you to the teachers and students of St. John Paul College in Coffs Harbour—this book was on submission when I was a writer-in-residence at your school, so a big thank-you for being a brilliant distraction and support while I tore my hair out with nerves.