by Leah Swann
Suddenly, Gunda pulled her ears back and narrowed her eyes. Her tail pointed straight out, parallel to the ground. Her lips curled. She bared her teeth and crouched, ready to pounce, and let out a terrifying growl.
Her heart beating wildly, the wolf-girl drew her sword.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Remembering the Way of Wolves
By evening, the news of King Niklas’s death had spread from east to west. Bells pealed in every village where there was a shrine to the Junsong. Farmers ceased tilling their fields. Villagers gathered to mourn.
‘King Niklas was wise and just,’ people said to one another. ‘He was a kind and a strong king. Under his reign there was always enough to eat.’
King Harmon ordered that every candle and lamp in Ragnor castle be lit. How he longed for Chloe to be by his side! Why hadn’t she returned from the forest to mourn with him? He stood at the window in the Great Hall, thinking of his dear friend, King Niklas. An era had come to an end. Grief closed around his heart. He remembered Niklas as a freckled boy, with tufts of wild reddish hair and a cheeky grin. They made a pact to remain friends when they became kings and end the wars. There hadn’t been a friendship between Pavel and Ragnor for years, but when the boys grew up, each kept his promise.
And now, thought Harmon, I’ve lost my best friend.
He stared into the distant gloom of the forest. The stars were hidden by clouds. War was coming, his friend was dead, his wife was gone, Irina was away, and there seemed so little he could do about any of it.
Irina held the gold sword in front of the wild white wolf, who was crouched and snarling. What am I doing? she thought. This is all wrong. It’s the way of humans, not wolves. Have I forgotten myself? She swallowed, and tossed her sword aside. Before the white wolf could pounce, Irina dropped to the ground and rolled onto her back, exposing her stomach and chest. She drew her arms and legs in, close to her body. Softly, low in the back of her throat, she made a sound she hadn’t made since she was a girl-pup, alone in the forest and trying to find her way back to Sheka. She whimpered.
Gunda stopped snarling. Irina kept whimpering, not daring to look up, her heart hammering in her chest. The white wolf came over and sniffed Irina, before turning away. From the corner of her eye, Irina saw that Gunda had settled at a distance, to watch her.
Very slowly, the wolf-girl rolled onto her stomach. She kept her chin and chest to the ground, and tucked her knees under her. She arched her back, careful to keep her face angled upwards to the wolf. She saw that Gunda was relaxing; her ears twitched forwards and her tongue hung loosely.
Irina kept low to the ground, and started to frolic, wagging her back playfully. Gunda got up and began to dance too, wagging her tail. She trotted up and licked Irina and the two began to play, rolling and wrestling. One or twice the wolf-girl got scratched by Gunda’s strong white paws pushing her to the ground, but it was so much fun she couldn’t help laughing out loud for joy. She’d forgotten how wonderful it was to wrestle a wolf.
When they were finished, wolf and wolf-girl collapsed on the ground, panting. Irina noticed the sun was high in the sky.
‘It’s time to go,’ she said to Gunda. ‘Those Yetis will be getting dangerous.’
‘Go where?’ growled the white wolf.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Irina. ‘I haven’t explained properly. I’m a friend of Baruch’s and I’m hoping you’ll come with me back to the Isle of Ragnor.’
The white wolf gave a short, sharp bark of displeasure. ‘Why do you want me to come?’
‘The wolves of Ragnor were placed under a dark spell and no longer bear pups. Without a she-wolf who wasn’t hurt by the evil magic, the mighty wolves of Ragnor could die out . . .’
‘Is this Baruch’s command?’
‘No, but . . .’
‘I’m not going anywhere. This is my home.’
Irina made her way back to the cave with a heavy heart. The whole journey to the valley had been in vain. She couldn’t force the white wolf to come with her. Gunda was a free, wild creature, master of her own life.
When she arrived, Hinuna ran up to her with a worried expression on her face. ‘The Yetis are growing into adults. I can hear them. We must leave. If I had some other Skylings with me I’d make the day stay at dawn, believe me.’
Irina called Durrell and Amicus. ‘My heart aches today, Amicus,’ she said to the sylvan. ‘I’m so disappointed the white wolf won’t come with us.’
‘And the soul of a good man is leaving and the earth is sighing,’ said Amicus. ‘Perhaps you feel that, too.’
‘What good man?’
‘Niklas.’
‘Niklas!’
‘My old master,’ said Durrell. ‘The one who saved me from the bear.’
Irina had only seen King Niklas once – on the day she left the wolf den. The terrible day Durrell fought the bear. She was a child then. She was hiding behind a rock when Andor and Niklas and their men rode by, but she couldn’t remember the King’s face. Yet somehow – she didn’t understand exactly how – Niklas seemed close, as though he was passing her by. We never met, she thought sadly. And this means Andor must become King.
‘We must return to Ragnor, and quickly,’ she told her companions. ‘Once the Narrowlanders hear of Niklas’s death, they may move to attack before Prince Andor is crowned.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
The Ferryman
The little party pressed through the narrow passage out of the Valley of Carmine Rock. Every now and then, Irina thought she heard someone or something following.
‘Don’t worry, those Yeti can’t fit in here,’ Hinuna assured her, after they heard another scuffle and a shower of pebbles. ‘It might just be a big valley rat.’
The way widened and finally they reached the open, flat meadows. But sure enough, there was a group of hairy, big-footed Yeti, brawling with each other. There were five of them, each over six foot tall, and still growing.
‘Quick,’ said Hinuna. ‘Don’t look at them.’
‘No, stop. I want to see.’
Hinuna moaned and covered her eyes. ‘You don’t know what you’re doing.’
Durrell growled. One of the creatures picked up a stone and aimed it at Amicus circling overhead. The stone flew, hard and fast, and Irina held her breath as Amicus swooped out of range. She had to stop herself from shouting, ‘How dare you throw a stone at my bird!’ Instead, she dismounted and approached them. What am I doing? she thought. It was like poking a bull ant’s nest with a stick till the ants raged out to bite her toes.
‘Peace be with you, creatures of the mountains,’ she said. Her voice sounded deep, coming from somewhere low in her chest.
The Yeti came forward, curious, jiggling and elbowing each other like a crowd of naughty schoolchildren.
‘I have made an agreement with the Skylings,’ Irina continued, hiding her nervousness. Behind her, Hinuna made a muffled choking sound. ‘Soon the natural rhythm of life will be restored. Snow will return to the mountains.’
The whistling noise started again. It seemed to come from far away, but Irina knew it came from the Yeti. One of them came up to her, pushed her shoulder and spat on her foot. Durrell bounded forward, gnashing his teeth; and then Irina heard a second snarl, and saw a fluid white movement from the corner of her eye. The white wolf! Gunda appeared and stood beside Durrell, proud hackles raised, eyes flashing.
Gunda’s arrival seemed to discomfit the Yeti. They took a few steps backwards. Clearly, they knew the white wolf.
‘Quiet, Durrell,’ Irina said, laying her hand on her wolf-brother’s brow. Hinuna was still riding on his back and had buried her face in his fur. ‘You too, Gunda,’ Irina added. ‘I am honoured that you have come to defend me. But I wish to speak with these creatures.’
‘Pah!’ said Gunda. ‘You can’t talk with them. They only understand brute force.’
‘Still. Let me try.’
The Yeti that had pushed Irina took a menacing step forwa
rds. But he was pulled back by another of his brethren, a tall and terrifying beast-man. Irina saw that his eyes were green, while those of the others were dull grey-blue.
‘If you keep killing each other there will be none of you left,’ she said quietly.
The green-eyed Yeti opened his mouth. His hairy cheeks were red-raw from the weather, and his big lower lip drooped over his chin. The whistling the other Yetis grew louder and they formed a semi-circle behind him.
‘Ark. Kinow. Reck,’ said the green-eyed Yeti in a harsh, guttural voice.
Irina shook her head, indicating that she didn’t understand. She said in a soft voice, ‘So you can speak.’
The creature grimaced and closed his eyes. With an immense effort, in a voice full of rage and pain, he said, ‘You. Know. Nothing.’
‘What is your name?’
Again the creature grimaced. ‘Dravik,’ he said, finally.
‘Dravik,’ Irina repeated. She stepped forward and looked up into the creature’s green eyes. ‘Are your people dying, Dravik?’
‘Yes.’
‘You are killing each other?’
The creature gave a sharp nod. Yes.
Hinuna, peeking between Durrell’s ears, was amazed.
‘Then only you can change it. You must transform your warlike natures, Dravik. You must use your strength for good. You must be the first to change. The others will follow.’
Dravik scowled and took a step backwards. He whistled. The other Yeti responded until they were all whistling and shouting, and then their terrible brawling began. While Irina and Dravik were speaking, the creatures had grown even taller and wider. One hurled a stone at Irina. She ducked and the stone whizzed over her head and shattered against a rock some distance away. The white wolf snarled and reared onto her hind legs.
‘Leave them, Gunda,’ said Irina. ‘Are you coming with us?’
‘I will protect you till you reach the sea,’ growled the white wolf. ‘Since you clearly need it.’
‘I can protect Irina,’ bristled Durrell.
‘Hush, now,’ said the wolf-girl. ‘And run!’
The wolves bounded away from the Yeti and their shower of stones. Irina turned her head and shouted, ‘I will remember you, Dravik!’
When they reached the realm of the Skylings, Irina asked if she might ride Gunda. The wolf was smaller than Durrell but strong, and could easily carry Irina on her back. Hinuna looked proud to be riding Durrell by herself.
Hinun came running out of his dwelling. ‘What are you doing, woman? Where have you been? I’m hungry!’
‘I am taking Irina to the coast. Keep the sun shining, husband, and I will be back all the sooner.’ Hinuna laughed mischievously, enjoying the stares from the other Skylings.
As they rode off, Irina asked the white wolf if she would consider coming further, and crossing the Crystal Sea to Ragnor. ‘Without your help, the wolves of Ragnor could die out,’ she said. ‘It’s no accident that Baruch told me about you.’
‘And now the child of the holy women of Ragnor is riding a white beast,’ said Hinuna, who was listening.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘The prophecy,’ said Hinuna. ‘From the lost Book of the Junsong.’ Seeing Irina’s mystified face she added, ‘Surely you know that you are the one? I knew it the moment I saw you. That’s why I asked you to release us from Joaquinna’s curse yesterday, when Hinun would have turned you away.’
‘Tell me of the prophecy,’ said Irina.
‘You must know it,’ insisted Hinuna. ‘It’s inscribed on the doors of Ragnor Castle. It says the child of the holy women of Ragnor will come, riding a white beast, and ushering in the Age of Peace.’
Irina gripped the pearly fur of Gunda’s neck more firmly. She remembered the inscription. Not for one moment had she thought that the Age of Peace was soon, or that the prophecy might be about her. It was impossible. ‘No, Hinuna,’ she said firmly. ‘It can’t be. All of that lies in the future. That child cannot be me.’
‘Well, who else would it be? Chloe is the first descendant of the holy women of Ragnor to marry royalty. Your destiny burns the air around you like a cape of fire. Surely you can feel it?’
Irina stared straight ahead as the wolves continued to gallop over the terrain. Durrell and Gunda ran side by side. Something in her understood that Hinuna might be right. Yet her mind fought it. ‘It says “a white beast”. That could be anything.’
‘It must be the wolf. That’s why that young witch you told me about was sent to stop you.’
Before long, the wolves were pounding the sand at the edge of the Crystal Sea. The riders dismounted and made a campfire by the waves. Irina cooked porridge from Skyling oats, while Hinuna summoned the Ferryman with her staff.
‘He should be here soon,’ said Hinuna, sitting beside Irina on the sand. She took the food Irina offered and ate hungrily. ‘Remember the walnut around your neck. Tap it three times when it grows hot.’
‘Thank you. I’ll do all I can to release you from the curse, Hinuna. You have been a good friend.’
‘Perhaps the Skylings will one day live in peace and harmony and have children again,’ said Hinuna. ‘We’ll fulfil our side of the bargain, of course. We’ll fight for you against the Narrowlands, if you need us.’
‘How will I summon you?’
Hinuna whispered the words of a secret invocation into her ear. ‘When you say these words, a single hailstone will fall. No matter where I am, I’ll know and I will come to help you.’
As she was speaking, the little yellow boat drifted up to the edge of the shore, and the Ferryman stood ankle-deep in the waves, his cloak weighted by water. The white wolf pressed her nose into Irina’s hand and growled softly, ‘I lost my mother in a deathly winter, and I owe Baruch my life. He is your friend. So I will come.’
Irina met the wolf’s eyes. ‘Thank you, Gunda.’
The wolf-girl bowed to the Ferryman and the Ferryman bowed in return.
‘We meet again, Ferryman. I am glad you were not lost in the storm. This time I have two wolves. Once again, I must impose on your kindness.’
The Ferryman made a welcoming gesture with his arms, inviting Irina, the sylvan and the two wolves aboard.
Irina bid Hinuna farewell. With her firm hands, she guided Durrell and Gunda onto the boat. The clawed feet of Amicus gripped the cloth of her tunic at her shoulder. She wedged herself between the animals and prepared herself for an uncomfortable journey.
The Ferryman’s oars plunged into the clear waters and, as before, when she looked down, Irina found she could see right to the ocean floor. But something was different. Something smelled different. She sniffed. If she didn’t know better, she would have said she could smell kenda flowers. But there aren’t spring flowers at sea, she thought.
Puzzled, Irina examined the Ferryman who was rowing energetically, eyes downcast. Then she looked towards the shore, which was growing smaller and smaller, with little Hinuna still waving from where she stood on the beach. Each stroke of the oars took them further from the Realm of the Skylings and closer to the Isle of Ragnor. Durrell sensed something unusual too – he pushed his nose into Gunda’s pelt and looked up at Irina with a comical expression of distaste. Gunda turned her head away. Was it the Ferryman who smelled of kenda flowers?
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Ravens’ Call
Queen Chloe had slept on a small hill of moss beneath a spreading odom tree, but her royal body was not used to such a rough bed, and she awoke cold and sore and very thirsty. Foolishly, under the spell of the pearl bracelet, she had brought no provisions with her, and her first thought was to find the River Thel. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, surprised to find that she was surrounded by a circle of large black ravens. As she uncurled and stretched, the birds watched her with eyes like chips of onyx. Raizel must have sent them to protect me, she thought.
But these were not Raizel’s ravens. The largest of them suddenly flew forwards. It was Raven
el, Iniko’s bird, and it uttered a harsh, croaking cry. Somehow, Chloe understood.
‘Follow me,’ said Ravenel. ‘This is no place for a Queen. Follow me to a palace, to a silken cot, to delicious food and drink, and to more precious jewels like your bracelet.’
Desperate for water and somewhere comfortable to lie down, the Queen followed the ravens to a carriage that waited at the edge of the forest. She did not notice the bodies of two men who were sleeping nearby, half-concealed by bushes. The driver offered her a jack of water and she drank gratefully from the leather spout. Then she climbed into the back and slumped onto the soft cushions . . .
An hour later, King Harmon’s two men – who had been sent to guard the Queen – awoke from Ravenel’s spell.
As the little yellow boat made its way towards the shores of Ragnor, Irina could not see the Blue Cliffs of Margaran. By her calculation, they were further north. The shore they were approaching appeared rocky and empty.
‘Excuse me, Ferryman,’ said Irina, her unease deepening. ‘It seems we are not arriving at the Blue Cliffs where we set out from last time.’
She felt Durrell stiffen beside her, listening.
At last the Ferryman spoke.
‘At this time of day the current is too strong,
If we rowed in there we would not last long.’
The boat’s hull made a grinding sound as it hit the gravelly shore.
Irina bowed and said, ‘We thank you for your trouble.’
The Ferryman raised his eyes and fear poured into Irina like icy water, swirling down her throat and into her stomach and down her legs till her toes tingled. It was Vilmos! Despite her realisation, she kept her face calm.
‘Or as we say in wolf tongue –’ From the back of Irina’s throat issued a series of short and longer guttural sounds.
‘If you are giving those wolves secret messages, you’ll be sorry!’
‘Who will be sorrier, you or me?’ cried Irina.
‘You can wonder about that in the Dragon’s lair,’ snarled Vilmos, the illusion of the Ferryman’s face dissolving and revealing his own pockmarked skin and fangs.