Wolf in Night

by Tara K. Harper

  Nori had pulled them up at the edge of the trees, just inside a meadow line. She’d held them there for a moment, then eased them back until they were well under the canopy, all the time not saying a word. Both men had watched her as much as they’d stared into the darkness. After a few minutes, the meadow seemed to lighten. It hadn’t been the moon. It had been the moonthistles that were beginning to open. When two of the nine moons broke back out from the clouds, the thistles had started to glow. For ten minutes, they watched as the thistles burst out, feathery tendrils waving like grass in a sea. Then, just as their dnu began to get restless, the wolfwalker motioned. At first, it seemed to be just a breeze in the meadow. Then the thistles started to seethe.

  Hunter’s hand had tightened on the hilt of his sword before he realized that the wolfwalker was still relaxed. He had to force himself to let go of the hilt, although he didn’t take his hand away. A few minutes later, the first bluewing moth had fluttered up from the thistles.

  Hunter had sucked in a breath. He’d heard of this, but never seen it. Few scouts did. One had to camp for days—usually with spring worlags, badgerbears, and bihwadi hunting—to catch the bluewings hatching. He had watched intently as the first pale bluewings glistened and fluttered up. A minute later, two more had hatched. Then the entire meadow seemed to be ascending until the glow of spotted blue against the tendrils of yellow-white was a wavering palette of light.

  Fentris had made the sign of the moonsblessing, and Hunter hadn’t blamed him. With the bluewings curling up to the sky, it was an almost spiritual moment. He’d started to turn to Nori to thank her when she held up her hand to stop him. She pointed with two fingers, never taking her eyes from the meadow. Hunter had followed the motion.

  He stiffened as the first black shadow struck. Within seconds, the night sky was filled with darting, swooping forms. Bluewings glowed brokenly in silent beaks that caught up the moths and cracked them. Fragments of glowing wings filtered down over the meadow in a ragged, luminescent rain. The thistles writhed, reaching for the torn blue. They fed below, while the tree sprits dove and tore apart the glowing, pale blue sky.

  It took only five, six minutes before the meadow was still again. The last of the bluewings that survived escaped into the trees, and the tree sprits darted away in pursuit. The thistles, satiated, tucked in their tendrils and glowed serenely on their stalks, waiting for the dawn.

  It took a growl from the dark before Fentris had broken that deadly quiet. His voice had been rough. “How many will survive?”

  Nori stirred. “Enough,” she’d answered. “Eight, maybe ten percent. It’s been a good spring for moths.”

  “I hadn’t realized.”

  “Most don’t.” Her voice had been dry. “You’ll see it later, in the lumber you harvest for flatwood.”

  Fentris had given her a sharp look. He’d wanted to ask how she knew he had interests in the flatwood farms, but she had already begun to lead them out on the trail that cut through the meadow.

  Hunter hadn’t been able to help himself from tensing as they rode into that faintly glowing field. He felt no small satisfaction that Fentris’s knuckles were just as white as the other man gripped his own sword.

  Now Hunter studied Nori closely on the moonlit verge. “You knew as we approached the meadow that the bluewings would hatch. You knew it was time for a hatching.”

  She shrugged. “I picked it up from the wolf pack.”

  “You mean from one wolf in particular. You had that same look as now.”

  She looked away.

  “Yesterday, when the rest of the pack went east, one of them stayed close to the road. You weren’t wary then like you were before, and your eyes were often unfocused.”

  She found herself poised on the balls of her feet, as if he’d begun to attack her. “So Fentris knows also?”

  “Probably. He’s nothing if not sharp.”

  “And neLivek and the others, back at Clever Springs? Did they notice?”

  Her voice was tight, and Hunter studied her before answering. “NeLivek might, but he’d say nothing. As for the others, they were too busy bickering about duties. They might have realized your name, but not that you were bonding.”

  “You’ve been around the Grey Ones before,” she realized. “You barely flinched when Rishte came to the road.”

  “I’ve known a few wolfwalkers. You have that look, Jangharat,” he said deliberately. He half raised his hand to touch her cheek, but let it fall when she shifted back. “And therein lies the problem, Black Wolf,” he said softly. “You think I’m intrigued because you’re the Daughter of Dione. But it wasn’t the Daughter of Dione who ran out of the woods with a wolf pack on her heels. It was a woman with a handful of the Grey Ones’ pups and the violet eyes of a moonmaid.”

  Her voice was low. “You speak like you’re working toward something.”

  “Something,” he agreed. “I was impressed with you on the cross-trail.” He hesitated. “I’m curious, Black Wolf. How much do you know of codes?”

  Nori tried not to stiffen. “I know the scout codes, of course, and the standard ring-runner cipher.”

  “You really have to work on your poker face.” She looked uncomfortable, wary, and guilty all at once. “If I had to guess,” he said softly, “I’d say you also know the council codes, the Lloroi’s code, and your family whistle codes.”

  She shrugged irritably. “Lloroi Tyronnen is my uncle. I wouldn’t be much use to him if I couldn’t send him what he needed to know without—” Her voice broke off. “Damn you.” How the hells had he gotten her to admit that? Did she trust him that much instinctively, or had she so little control now from Rishte?

  Hunter nodded. “You’ve seen the trade codes, too, I’d bet. And probably some of the guild codes. What about the Houses?”

  She didn’t answer. She was watching him like a wolf now. If he asked about the raider code, she’d know.

  But what he said next confused her. He regarded her with those cool green eyes and said quietly, “You love your brother very much.”

  She cocked her head warily. “Aye,” she said finally.

  “How much would you give up to keep him safe?”

  She frowned. She didn’t see where he was going at all. She said sharply, “I’d give up you in a heartbeat, Tamrani.”

  He chuckled without humor. “Very telling.” He didn’t explain that the flash of fear in her eyes said she’d already considered the question. She was worried about something that was coming to a head, he could feel it. He hadn’t pushed her on the ride today. He’d thought her natural curiosity would keep her intrigued with his presence. Instead, she’d barely spoken to him. She’d spent her time with her brother, watching the men and women around them as if anyone could be a threat. Hunter was beginning to think that, if he wanted to get Nori to ride with him, he’d have to court Payne, too.

  She eyed him carefully. “I might be willing to answer your questions if you told me why you are here, and why you are heading for council.”

  Hunter studied her for a moment. Then his voice lost all teasing and became firm and businesslike. “I’ve come north to ask your council for an Ariyen scout, but I’m beginning to think that a wolfwalker would suit me better.” He didn’t hide his seriousness. She had no idea what was at stake. The changes he and Fentris had seen were only the surface of a sea that was beginning to roil. If it was just a Purging of power, then only a few dozen, maybe a hundred would die. If it was a House War, then the entire city would erupt. Venges would hunt down families, and families would try to flee. It would spread to the southern Ariyen towns, then north on up the county. Whole villages could be slaughtered as the venge riders turned to raiding. He added quietly, “It’s a duty that will affect Ramaj Ariye, and possibly all three of the middle counties.”

  Nori regarded him expressionlessly. So Payne was right again. It was Condari Brithanas wanting the Daughter of Dione. She didn’t think for a moment that a scout request was the sole reason
he rode to council, not with her uncle as Lloroi. Rishte began to growl in her mind, and she forced her voice to be steady. “I have other duties, Condari.”

  “Con or Hunter, Black Wolf. And I believe I can convince your elders.”

  “That’s probably true, but I don’t answer to the elders.”

  “You do answer to the Lloroi.”

  “You think to convince my uncle to go against my parents, when they’re among his most important county allies?”

  He smiled without humor. He’d sat his share of city councils since he was a boy. County intrigues were like cutting a child’s puzzle. “Let’s just say that I have some knowlege of how a council works and what he needs to keep it in his control.”

  Nori’s violet eyes narrowed. Payne hadn’t had the half of it right. “You’re welcome to petition him, of course.”

  “For any scout except you?” He reached out and let his fingers trail along her arm.

  She forced herself to stay motionless. But Rishte’s growl was louder now, and her lips stretched in a faintly feral grin. “You’re pursuing, Condari, but I’m not running. I’ll turn on you if you close.”

  He gazed up at the stars. “I believe I’m tired of city lilies.”

  She stepped away and broke the contact. “Don’t you understand? I don’t want—” Her voice broke off as Rishte snarled sharply.

  Hunter watched her tense. “What is it?” he asked sharply.

  She shook her head. The wolf was closer, but she couldn’t hear anything more than his growl. He’d seemed to send her a man-scent, but that would be Hunter. His scent would have carried on the slight evening breeze. Nori could feel her ears try to flick at the sounds of the park and the nighttime forest on the other side of the shrubs. Rishte didn’t help. He was on the heights, pulling at her to come away. He was irritated and hungry, and the breeze blew west toward the wolf, taunting him with the odors of food and the noise of her humanity.

  She didn’t blame him for the call. After Mato, Rezuku, B’Kosan, and the watcher at the wagon, she was ready to bolt herself. And the wolf needed her running beside him. He rubbed roughly in her mind and growled at the man-scent, making her even more on edge, like a sword, unsure where to strike or parry.

  “Nori?”

  Wolfwalker.

  Rishte howled the warning sharply. Hunter caught the flare of danger in her eyes, and his hand went to his long knife just as hers did. Her nostrils flared. She breathed shallowly, tasting the air. That hadn’t been Hunter’s scent in Rishte’s nose. It was someone else. More than one someone else. Even with the faintness of the new bond, she could tell that now.

  Her voice was almost inaudible as she warned. “There is someone coming down the verge.”

  “Payne?” he guessed irritably.

  She shook her head.

  “One of your uncles, then.”

  She held up her hand to stop him as she listened. She heard nothing, just the grey din sharpening in her mind and a pair of pelan settling down in the trees. “They’re moving closer,” she decided. “Not heading away.”

  “It’s probably another couple of cozar, coming back from their evening exercise.”

  “No cozar would go so far from the wagons, not at night, not outside a group.”

  “You did.”

  “I’m not cozar, and you wanted to walk.”

  “I did.” He smiled wolfishly.

  She muttered something vaguely obscene. “It’s two people,” she added a moment later.

  He studied her expression. This time, his voice was quiet. “You think they are a danger.”

  She tried not to snarl. She had her scout book in her jerkin, she wasn’t carrying a bow, and she was out alone on the lonely verge with Hunter for company. If last night’s watcher hadn’t convinced her she was being targeted, this would do it twice over. She let her gaze rest just left of the path so her peripheral sight could seek movement. “Two men,” she told him. “Not on dnu. On foot.”

  Hunter caught her arm. “This way, then.” He started to pull her toward the road and the safety of the moonlight.

  She slipped free with a twist. Her voice instinctively dropped to a whisper. “It’s too bright over there. Too open. No cover.” She gestured toward the trees and shrubs that hid the barrier bushes.

  “Your way is into the shadows,” he objected. “And you have no idea if they’re friends or enemies.”

  She didn’t bother to answer that. “Will you come?” she said impatiently.

  He raised his eyebrows. Then he followed without a word as she stepped off the path and slipped between two tea shrubs.

  A few minutes later, they were flat on the ground, their bodies close in a long pocket of roots with a low shrub to the side to distract the eye. They could see most of the path for forty meters, but the road was nearly hidden. Nori shifted off a root so that the knot of it pressed into her calf, not her knee. Hunter wriggled into a better position himself. It brought his thighs close to hers. He leaned and murmured, “This is where I wanted you, though I’m not sure how we got here so quickly.”

  “Moonwormed eater of dog breath,” she retorted in a nearly inaudible whisper.

  He grinned. “You swear like a cozar,” he breathed back.

  Nori rolled her eyes and tried to reach out to the yearling. It was a fairly useless gesture. Rishte was still too far away to be more than a blurred grey in her mind. At that distance, all she could read was that the yearling sensed her wariness on top of his own sense of danger. The grey shifted slightly: a different eagerness, sudden stillness, flared nostrils, pricked ears. The hunt. Her hunt? She almost cocked her head to listen to the impressions that swirled in the lupine fog. She could smell the sleeping scents of a flock of woodmice, the raw sap of a tree that had been scratched by a forest cat. She started to shake her head to clear it so she could smell the air around herself, not the wolf, but caught herself in time to stay still. Hunter noticed nothing. In fact, she scowled, the man had just put his chin down on his arms and now pressed close to her side. She nudged him with her hip, but he didn’t move. Damn Tamrani, she thought irritably. This wasn’t even subtle.

  Hunter, his face turned away, hid a smile.

  The Tamrani’s warmth kept her from shivering, and his long body was relaxed into watching, not tense as an inexperienced scout. It was almost . . . pleasant, she realized, as if she should feel safe, rather than wary from having him beside her. He certainly seemed content to lie there for as long as it took to wait.

  They were silent for several minutes. The nightbugs began chirping again, and the tether vines settled down and refurled their delicate tendrils. Hunter started to ask if Nori had been wrong when a flock of tree sprits rushed up through the trees. He stilled further.

  She used two fingers to barely motion to the left. A moment later, two men angled across the trees at the top of the small rise. They were perhaps forty meters away, and although they were armed, they were walking casually. Nori felt her cheeks heat.

  “Very dangerous looking, indeed,” Hunter murmured in her ear.

  She recognized one of the outriders, and stiffened. “The chovas on the right, he disappeared from the wagons this morning—” She broke off. The other man turned and looked in their direction. It was the raider who had attacked Elder Connaught.

  Hunter frowned. The wolfwalker’s face had gone still and intent as a lepa. He could see the caravan guard more clearly now, and he shifted deeper into the shadow, a move that brought him even closer against her side. Her lips moved as if to curse him, but like him, she now made no noise.

  The moons were bright enough that the shadows were a crisp black, not dull for easier seeing. Hunter’s fingers pressed her forearm, but she’d already seen the two men turn to move closer.

  Nori breathed slowly through her mouth into her sleeve so that there was almost no sound. Only the beat of her heart and the sense of Hunter’s pulse through his hot skin filled her ears. The grey din in her mind was so much a part of h
er thoughts that she didn’t even hear it. No-thought, she chanted in her mind. No-thought. Nothing here. She kept her eyes downcast so they didn’t gleam. She was small, nothing, of no consequence. A hint of shadow in darker night. Just a tiny creature, minding its business, settling down for the night.

  In her mind, Rishte didn’t understand at first. Then he realized she thought herself prey, not predator. He snarled, and Nori stiffened slightly. She hissed at the wolf in her mind. No-thought, she sent harshly. No-sight, no-sound.

  Rishte growled back. He began to understand. Think like prey, be prey, draw them in, then leap and slash at the flanks, the knees, the heels. The sudden shaft of eagerness was like a slap, and Nori had to fight not to shake her head.

  They would have remained unnoticed if it hadn’t been for the pelan. The two men had actually passed their patch of shadow, ten or twelve meters away. They were moving away down the path when the four birds fluttered down toward the bushes. Both Harumen went still to avoid spooking the birds.

  The lead pelan dropped, looking for a roost. It got its feet all the way around a branch near Nori’s head when it realized what lay nearby. It exploded back up like a feathered bomb. Nori’s heart stopped. The other three pelan hissed and scattered up, then winged back over the trees like wildly shot arrows. The two men whipped around. Their bows came up. “There,” Murton snapped.

  Rishte felt Nori’s sudden fear like a kick. The grey voice clawed into her mind. Danger. Flash to your feet. Run, escape.

  The other raider released his bolt a bare second after Murton’s.

  Nori started to roll to her feet, but Hunter slammed his arm down like a beam of iron. She barely heard him curse over the whip-by of the bolt.

  Trapped. Run. Run!

  She snarled, her teeth bared at Hunter. The Tamrani jerked back, then shoved her down again, sprawling across her to cover her. Murton drew another bolt quick as smoke, and shot slightly left, covering what he knew was there but couldn’t quite see in the shadows. “Now,” Hunter snapped, and released her. She fought free as he rolled the other way.