The Mage

by Inbali Iserles

  Métis tried to rise. His legs quivered and he thumped back down. “All right, all right …” He tried again. I wasn’t like this before. You should have seen me. I was swift and powerful. I was silver. He gave his head a shake. With grim determination, he rose to his paws. He managed only a few steps before collapsing again.

  “Come on, Métis. Come on.” I urged, beckoned, and shunted. He would go a few steps before stopping, breathless. My tail twitched. “We can’t be far from the Elder Rock. Don’t give up now.”

  “I’m not,” he snapped back. I could see what the effort was costing him.

  “Let me give you more maa.”

  “No!” he panted. He added more softly, “I won’t do that. Last time I nearly killed you. I nearly killed us both.”

  The sun was peaking in the distance, the top of an orange circle. There was a strange murmur beneath the shingle. I wondered if I should leave Métis there while I ran to find the Elders. What if something happened to him? I’d promised to get him to the Rock.

  My head whipped back toward the sunrise. Was someone moving over the shingle? The figure paused. A fox! He’d seen us. My heart started thumping. It was getting bright now. It couldn’t be one of the Taken. But what if it was a Narral? “Métis,” I hissed. “Someone’s coming!”

  The figure started running.

  The Black Fox looked along the bank. He reared up, flashing his teeth. “Get behind me.”

  I obeyed, though what could the old fox do? I clenched my paws. At least there were two of us, I reminded myself. I wouldn’t give up without a fight.

  The fox was getting closer. He glided over the shingle, elegant and powerful. His long brush bounced behind him. There was something about his fluid advance that seemed familiar. His red coat gleamed in the morning light.

  My heart leaped. “It’s Siffrin!”

  The red-furred fox bounded past Métis and slammed to a halt. “Isla!” he panted. “I thought I’d lost you forever this time.” His huge eyes gleamed with light. I had never seen a more beautiful fox. “I’ve come to the bank every day. I’ve walked each furrow and crag in search of you.” He shook his head. “And look at you now. You’ve grown up.”

  I ran to him. Our brushes twined.

  I smelled the sweet, rich scent of his coat. “I was in the Snowlands. I missed you so much.” The words flooded out of me unbidden. “Pirie wasn’t there after all. He’s in the Darklands. The Mage has captured him! It was Métis—Métis was in the Snowlands. He pleached with a wolf and his maa is hurt.”

  Siffrin gasped and turned to the Black Fox. “Métis … I didn’t recognize you.”

  “I don’t recognize myself,” said the Black Fox bitterly. “Siffrin, we need to reach the Elder Rock. It is imperative we get there before the gloaming.”

  Siffrin dipped his head in understanding. “Maa-sharm?” he offered.

  Métis looked at Siffrin. I sensed him assessing the young fox: the gleam in his eyes, the power in his brush. Métis sighed. “I am a parched stream, a dug-out furrow. No amount of maa can save me. But perhaps in the short term …” He gave a small nod. “Yes, maa-sharm. Only enough to get to the Rock.”

  * * *

  The Elder Wood had transformed in the time I had been in the Snowlands. Fruit hung in the leafy branches. Birds warbled in their nests. The earth’s beat thumped against our paws, stronger through the soil than it had been through shingle.

  The amber shana danced around the Rock, a ring of protection woven by the Elders to banish intruders. As we entered the circle of ancient trees, its color rose to scarlet.

  Siffrin stepped forward, clearing his throat. “Elders, it is your messenger. I come with Isla and the Black Fox.”

  The shana started to melt. I made a move forward, but Métis stopped me with a tap of the snout. The look in his eyes surprised me. Rueful, almost nervous. It made him seem much younger.

  “I wanted to say something,” he whispered. “I have been hard on you. At first I saw only a naïve foxling from the Graylands. I was wrong. I wanted to say …” He dipped his head. “You are a friend to the Elders. And you have been a friend to me. I wouldn’t have made it back without you.”

  I was lost for words. As Métis raised his muzzle, his green eyes glittered. Back and forth darted those pointed ears, ever alert. I wished I’d known him before, when his maa was as bright as the sun.

  The mist of the shana unfurled.

  The Elders spoke with one voice.

  Métis.

  The Black Fox shook his head. “I have failed you,” he whimpered bitterly. “You already guessed that I pleached with a wolf.”

  I saw Jana on the Rock, with the other Elders behind her.

  At first we weren’t sure that it was you. Keeveny is master of pleaching—he was drawn to its potent allure. We know now that he is the Mage.

  “I must fight him,” said Métis.

  Jana frowned.

  Step onto the Rock.

  Métis heaved over the stones. Already, Siffrin’s maa was fading. I remembered what the old fox said. I am a parched stream … No amount of maa can save me.

  I followed Métis, with Siffrin close behind me. As he stepped onto the Rock, the Elders were chanting.

  Come together, rays of light; comfort me in deadly night. Weave a wall of thickest mist; every fiend and foe resist.

  The chant was lead by Shaya, the stern auburn fox. The Elders ran appraising eyes over Métis, then me. I recognized gray-furred Jana, an expert in wa’akkir. Then there was the tiny ginger-and-white vixen, Mika, mistress of pashanda. Brin, the large slimmering fox, blinked at me kindly. He and Shaya had disagreed with Jana.

  They hadn’t wanted to trick me.

  Kolo cocked his head. As he murmured the chant, I spotted the gap where one fang was missing. I remembered how he’d karakked, whipping up the air, shaking the branches of the ancient trees.

  There were two other foxes on the Rock. They sprang toward me, their tails thrashing.

  I could hardly believe my eyes. “Simmi! Tao!” I bounded toward them. “I thought you were in the Free Lands.”

  Simmi nipped my shoulder affectionately. “We went. We spread foxcraft among the skulks.”

  “But we had to come back,” added Tao, touching my nose, then turning to Siffrin. “We saw the yellow dust rising over the Darklands.”

  “We couldn’t stay away,” said Simmi. “The Mage killed and pleached our family. We’re going to fight him.”

  “The Mage has Pirie,” I told them. “I will fight him too.”

  The Elders had stopped chanting. The shana whirled around the Rock, a deep orange fog. Jana turned to us. “We must all fight, however we can.”

  I glared at her. “You tricked me.” From the corner of my eye, I saw Brin look at Shaya.

  “Yes,” said Jana. “We found hope in you. Who else could have rescued our lost Elder?” She didn’t even apologize. She turned to Métis. “We didn’t know what to expect. Métis, old friend, I am glad it’s you. I never really believed you’d be the Mage. But when you didn’t come at malinta …” Deep furrows appeared between her ears. “You are changed.”

  “I won’t let it stop me,” said Métis. “Tonight I leave for the Darklands.”

  For a time, the Elders were quiet.

  Shaya sniffed him, then stood back. “You won’t make it. I have sensed your maa. You are damaged beyond repair.” I was shocked by the brutal frankness of her words.

  Métis nodded. “I must use the last of my strength to challenge Keeveny.”

  “I know you long to,” said Jana. “Yet you cannot. Stay at the Rock, pleached alongside us. Your gift for gerra-sharm cannot be rivaled. What maa you have can make all the difference. Share your talents through our circle of blood. You will still be part of this final fight.”

  “That isn’t enough,” he protested.

  Jana’s jaw was set. “Listen to me, Métis. You are not strong enough to challenge the Mage. This isn’t about old rivalries.”
r />   “You think that’s it? That I want to win against Keeveny?” To my surprise, Métis threw back his head with a cry. “I won’t let our freedom be stolen! All that I have known and believed in, all we have stood for as the Elders. It is for me to fight him. I am the Black Fox, the fox of legend. I alone can repel the evil that rises in his lands.” He collapsed against the gray stone. His burst of sorrow had exhausted him. “I am the Black Fox,” he repeated in a cracked voice. “I have failed …”

  My heart swelled with compassion. I padded closer to lick his long ears. “You haven’t failed,” I told him. “You saved Farraclaw. You protected the Bishar. You’ve already done so much.”

  Métis raised his head. Light danced in his green eyes. “But our own kind will fall.”

  “No.” I clenched my jaw. “Not when there are foxes prepared to defend them.”

  “We won’t let the White Fox control us,” agreed Simmi.

  Siffrin’s tail was swishing. “We’ll stand against him, whatever it takes.”

  Jana watched us. I saw her tail-tip glow. One by one, the tails of the other Elders glowed too. They were talking to one another in gerra-sharm, sharing thoughts that we couldn’t hear.

  “It should be me!” Métis blurted out.

  Jana looked at him with meaning. Her tail pulsed brighter. It fell into rhythm with the thump of the gloaming. Then the light faded and she turned to Siffrin. “You will go to the Darklands.” Her gaze trailed over me, Simmi, and Tao. “The four of you. It is a dangerous mission, one you may not survive. Yet there is no one left to do it, for we are only six, and we must stay to pleach. Without the power of our maa and the strength of our gerra, you will never reach the Mage’s lair.” She cocked her head, her gray eyes returning to me. “Isla already understands that her brother is there. That others too have been captured. Their maa is the key to Keeveny’s power.”

  Shaya spoke in a low voice, though the shana weaved its protective wall around us. “It is not enough to free the young captives. One of you will have to kill Keeveny. He is the White Fox’s link to the physical world. Destroy Keeveny before the gloaming’s fire light meets the crimson stones. If you fail, the White Fox will rise.”

  I ran my tongue over my muzzle. The thought of killing another fox horrified me. But the Mage was the one who had summoned the demon. He was the one the Taken called “Master.”

  Brin stooped his head. “He was a friend once.”

  “That was a long time ago,” said Jana wistfully.

  Shaya’s stare was intense. “You’ll confront pleached foxes in untold number. You may meet the Narral … There are eleven of them now, since Karka died in the Graylands. Believe me, eleven are more than enough. They see any who resist the Mage as traitors. Evade them as best you can. Do not confront them, as you cannot win.” She licked her muzzle. “You will have to enter Keeveny’s lair before the last sun of the longest day lapses into darkness. The fire light of the gloaming is potent in maa. Its power is beyond our fathom. Listen well, young foxes—the light must not touch the crimson stones. It is enough to breathe life into the White Fox. He will be unstoppable.”

  Kolo’s voice was brittle. “Kill Keeveny and you thwart the White Fox.”

  He made it sound simple.

  Little Mika spoke suddenly. “Help comes from unexpected places.” She raised her delicate muzzle. “Use pashanda where you can. ‘Eye of gerra, inner-glance, share your secrets through my trance.’”

  I dipped my head, silently repeating the incantation.

  “Elders, it is time.” Jana looked at Métis. “You will not enter the Darklands in the way you intended, but in pleaching you shall play your part.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be like this,” Métis sighed.

  I thought of Ma, Fa, and Greatma. I thought of our patch, and all that I’d lost. “Nothing is. But that doesn’t have to be the end of it. We’re not giving up.”

  Brin glanced at Jana. “You were right about her.”

  Jana let out a long breath. “You will be valuable on the journey, Isla. But most of all, we need Siffrin. He is strong and capable in foxcraft. He will join us in pleaching. The depth of our gerra and the warmth of our life source will run through his blood for as long as the pleach is true.” She met his eye. “You have trained for this moment all your life. You will be the one to enter the lair. You must kill Keeveny for the good of us all.”

  Siffrin tipped his head. “I will do it, if you wish me to.” He was quiet and calm. Only the twitching of his tail-tip betrayed his nerves. Métis was staring at him. Catching his hard gaze, Siffrin blinked back at the Black Fox. “You don’t, do you?”

  Métis frowned. His ears twisted back and forth. “You are the obvious choice. Yet my instinct tells me you are not the right one.” His gaze shifted to me. “Isla should do it.”

  My eyes widened. “But I don’t know how.”

  “No one does,” said Métis. “You want honesty? You must be prepared to hear it. When you’re a cub, you think of adults and believe they have the answers. When you grow up you discover that there are no answers.”

  Beetles of unease scuttled through my belly. “So why me?”

  “Yes, Métis,” said Jana, an edge to her voice. “Why Isla? She is young and inexperienced.”

  “I have walked with her. Heard her thoughts. I have shared her maa.” Métis cringed, drawing his injured paw closer. He looked exhausted. “If it cannot be me, it should be her.”

  Jana’s ears swiveled back. “Siffrin, what do you think?”

  Siffrin raised his muzzle. “I don’t want to send her to such a fate … But it’s Isla’s choice. I can only say this—she made it out of the Graylands. She survived the Snowlands. I can’t think of anyone more determined than Isla. If her brother is in the Mage’s Lair, she should have a chance to free him.” Siffrin looked at me fondly. “Métis is right. Your maa is dazzling.”

  Beneath the light, I brushed against something fierce and powerful, like … like the water that thunders along the Raging River. There is strength within you, Isla.

  I blinked at Siffrin, touched by his words.

  Silence fell within the shana, a silence so profound that chirping ceased in the surrounding trees. The shana deepened to crimson. Then the light shifted back to amber and I heard the call of a bird.

  The Elders all looked at me.

  It was Jana who spoke. “Métis believes you should go in his stead. Are you willing to enter the Mage’s lair? To do whatever it takes to resist the White Fox?”

  I couldn’t think about the Mage, his army of Taken, or the Narral … I couldn’t imagine the White Fox. But Pirie was in the lair. There were others, free foxes, captured and leeched. I drew in my breath. “I’ll do it.”

  It was twilight in the Wildlands. A long day had passed in rest and preparation. We had eaten, talked, and slept. Now the shana dispersed and we trod onto the cool stones, down to the forest floor.

  The Elders gathered at the blood-bark tree. Métis took the lead, his weary paws digging a trench in the soft earth. Siffrin rested his muzzle on my shoulder. Fear fluttered at my heart, but his presence comforted me. Soon, we would enter the Darklands. Soon, I would see Pirie.

  If we make it.

  My ears flattened. “We will make it,” I said out loud.

  Simmi glanced at me. At her side, Tao was focused on Métis. As he finished digging, the Elders formed a circle around the patch of earth. In turn, each raised their tails and closed their teeth over the white tips. Eyes closed, they wrenched out several bristly white furs. Métis was the first to lower his tail hairs into the trench. Jana was next, followed by Shaya and Brin. Kolo nosed his hairs onto the others. Little Mika was last. She tamped down the mound of fur with her paws.

  Métis turned to me. “Your turn, Isla.”

  I padded between him and Jana, where the Elders had shuffled along to make space. Shutting my eyes, I drew in my breath and tugged out some hairs from the tip of my brush. A quiver ran through me.
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br />   “Now put it with the others,” said Jana.

  I opened my eyes. The Elders watched as I padded between them to add my fur to the small mound. I stepped back to join the circle as Métis gently covered the mound with soil. A short distance away, Siffrin, Simmi, and Tao watched in silence.

  The covered trench was between us, underneath the branches of the blood-bark tree.

  Métis started chanting. “Your thoughts are mine, my will is yours. You are my eyes, I am your paws.”

  The rest of the Elders echoed his words.

  Your thoughts are mine, my will is yours. You are my eyes, I am your paws.

  Their tail-tips glowed.

  With a shiver, I joined them.

  “Your thoughts are mine …”

  The thump of the earth grew stronger. A silvery light rose from the buried cache. It twinkled like stars. I watched, entranced. Longing wrenched at me. It was as though all the beauty and desire of the world was wrapped in that thrumming silver mound. It grew, levitating in the middle of the Elders like a silvery sun.

  Métis turned to me. “Isla, come into the circle. We will channel our gerra and maa toward you.”

  The other Elders kept chanting.

  I felt a chill of fear. What was I doing? Was it too late to back out? I noticed Siffrin from the corner of my eye. He cocked his head at me in encouragement. I thought of Pirie. I started forward.

  I stepped into the circle of Elders, into the silvery light. Warmth leaped through me, from my paw pads to my whiskers. The light danced inside me. Colors spun loops in my mind. I had the sensation of floating. For an instant, I was the great bird gliding high over the Wildlands. The land lay before me. I spied the outline of the Elder Wood, the border of green treetops. There was a path beneath the cliffs that led straight to the valley where the grass no longer grew. From there, I saw a forest, so gnarled that the branches wove through it like the bars of a cage. Deeper, deeper, there was a tunnel of rock, a maze of dark angles and scarlet stones.

  The chanting faded.

  I looked up to meet bright green eyes. “You have seen the path you must follow.”