She got out of the water, dried herself and dressed hastily. Then she sat on a stone ledge, closed her eyes and brought Ginger’s gray form to mind. He was alive. She would have known at once if he had perished. But the flow of earth magic was too disordered for her to feel him. She tried to reach Crow, but it was the same.
“Brother Crow,” Gem hooted softly.
“Did you know what I was thinking, Gem?” Little Fur asked softly.
“Know,” Gem hooted. She gazed through the window in the tunnel to where the moon was a small pale circle in a vast blackness.
CHAPTER 11
The King
“Wake, Little Fur. The king summons you,” a voice said. “I am Cloud, come to take you to him.”
Little Fur sat up, startled to find that she had fallen asleep when she had meant only to lie back and think. She had been dreaming of Ginger, but she could not remember what the dream had been about.
A light gray wolf stood by the door to the chamber. Little Fur got to her feet, leaving Gem behind, snuggled sound asleep in the pine needles.
“Where is Graysong?” Little Fur asked as she hurried to keep up with Cloud. The wolf was leading her along the tunnel to a set of ascending stairs.
“He sleeps,” said the wolf.
“Isn’t he coming to the feast?” Little Fur asked.
“The feast is not yet. The king wishes to speak with you before that. I am taking you to him.”
The stairs brought them to a windy walk along the very top of the cliff. Cloud bade her go along it to where she would find the king. He was expecting her.
Little Fur saw no reason not to go. She leaned against the wind as she walked. Suddenly she saw an enormous wolf who had his front paws up on the low parapet and was gazing out at the mountains through which Little Fur had come. He was the most beautiful wolf Little Fur had ever seen. His fur was thick and white as new-fallen snow, and his eyes were the palest blue with a faint coil of cloud at their center.
“Greetings, Little Fur,” the wolf said in a rich, deep voice. “Long have I looked forward to this meeting.”
“Greetings, King Balidor,” Little Fur said, bowing her head. “I am honored by your kindness, though I do not understand how you know me.”
His eyes glowed with warmth. “Is there any creature in the land who has not heard the legend of Little Fur? She who fought the tree burners, who traveled to Underth and thwarted the devilish work of the Troll King? We are both warriors who strive to protect the earth spirit.”
Little Fur blinked. “Graysong told me that the Mystery sought to strengthen the earth spirit.”
“I see that Graysong has taught you the art of paring words. He was ever gifted at it. But surely one strengthens the earth spirit by protecting it, for then it need not squander its strength in defense. But come. I have much to show you, and a gift.”
Thus Little Fur found herself walking the labyrinthine ways of the keep beside the glorious king of the wolves. Every wolf they passed bowed, but Balidor acknowledged none of them. His attention was all for her, and Little Fur was made shy by his intensity. She was bewildered by it, too. He had given her a reason for his warmth, but somehow it did not seem enough of a reason. Yet her nose told her that no lie had been told.
They passed through a chamber of musty-smelling objects that Balidor called books, which contained human runes. In them was all the knowledge of the humans. Little Fur looked about in wonder.
Balidor asked about her journey to the mountains. Little Fur told him of Ginger and her dream that he was in danger. The Wolf King smelled of polite attention until she mentioned the Sett Owl’s advice to seek out the Mystery of Wolves. But the king was less interested in the Sett Owl’s words than in the magic that produced her visions. He was especially interested in Little Fur’s belief that humans created the still magic unwittingly when they came to the beaked house to sing and yearn. It cost her some effort to return to her story, so that she could describe her visit to the zoo and her meeting with Graysong.
“If Graysong has broken some law in returning here, I hope you will forgive it, since it was for my sake that he did so,” she said earnestly.
“Do not trouble yourself about Graysong,” said Balidor. “I have spoken to my father, and we understand each other very well.” He went back to asking questions about the still magic. Finally, he said, “Imagine a vast pooling of magic in one beaked house, and no human knows it is there. Yet that magic might be used if one knew how.”
Little Fur thought of Graysong’s grandsire and his tale of a terrible power that would be born in the human keep, and that only a wolf could keep from destroying the earth spirit. Did Balidor imagine he was that wolf? Was that why he had taken Sjoerven’s mirror? But if so, what was the power he must defeat?
Then, like the moon coming out from behind a cloud, her own purpose shone in her mind. “King Balidor, have you heard anything of the cat Ginger?” she asked.
“There is little in these mountains that escapes my eye, Little Fur,” the white wolf answered. “Have no fear—you will soon be united with him.”
Little Fur had hoped for a clear and simple answer. She wanted to press Balidor to say if he knew where Ginger was, but they were crossing another stone bridge now, and as they were high, it was windy. Balidor led her across it. Once they had entered a long chamber cut into the cliff, he spoke again.
“The one who made this keep was one of the few humans who understood about the other ages of the world. The tales humans tell one another are full of clues, and even as a youngling, this human heard the truth hidden inside the tales. Unlike most of his kind, he did not forget those truths when he grew to maturity. Instead, he set about trying to prove to other humans that the previous ages existed.
“After long years of study and travel, he found his first clue—a thing that belonged unmistakably to another age. After that, nothing could stop him. He became convinced that some few of the creatures of past ages dwelt in secret in this age. But though he found many rare and strange artifacts, his greatest aim was to find a creature that could work magic. His deepest desire was to restore magic to the world. He did not understand that all of the creatures who could work magic had perished.”
The wolf stopped before an archway. The door that had once fitted into it hung sagging off its hinges. Through it was a very long, narrow chamber with small windows cut high into the stone along the side of the chamber. Many panels of unmelting ice were fixed to the walls beneath the windows. Objects hung behind the panels and sat on shelves or tables.
“This is the treasure room of the human! All of the things he collected are here,” said the Wolf King. “Pixie daggers, dwarf hammers, the medicine horn of a centaur, the comb of a mer-maiden, pearl hair clips of sea sprites. The human arranged his treasures like this so that he could show other humans and share his dream. But of those who came, most went away to tell tales of a great mountain folly built by a madman. A few stayed for a time, but in the end, the human who built this was alone.”
Balidor moved closer to the cases as he spoke, and suddenly Little Fur saw something, behind one of the panels of unmelting ice, that took her breath away. It was her father’s gray cloak!
“Your eyes are sharp, Little Fur,” approved Balidor. He stepped forward and lifted a paw to press a metal form set into the unmelting ice. The front part sprang open like a door. The Wolf King nosed it open properly and said, “Take what is your own.”
Little Fur reached up, feeling as if she had stepped into a dream. Her fingers closed about the soft folds of the gray cloak, and she took it down and pressed her face to it. Before it had been stolen from her, she had valued the cloak for its powers. But now she sniffed it, hungry to find some scent of her father. Suddenly he was not an unknown elf. He was an elf who had been imprisoned by a wizard—an elf who had held back the sea and cracked open the earth. He must have given this cloak to her mother. How else should it have come to belong to Little Fur with the green stone?
Little Fur felt bewildered by the things that the wolf was saying. There seemed to be madness in his words, and the almost-sickness that she could smell on all of the wolves was suddenly very strong.
“I thank you for this cloak,” she managed to say. “But, King Balidor, how did you know it was mine? Did the mirror of the fjord spirit tell you?”
For a moment, all color seemed to fade from the wolf’s eyes, leaving them white and blind-looking. But he did not smell of surprise. “Graysong said that Sjoerven threatened you but could not harm you. I am glad of it. She also told you that I stole her mirror. It is not true. Sjoerven offered it to me, and she commanded it to show me all that I asked to see in it. I do not know why, for there is no love between us. No doubt she has come to regret giving it away, and that is why she lied.”
Now there was anger in his eyes, but it only made him look more handsome. “Sjoerven weakened my father and the pack, so I was forced to challenge him, though I was not truly old or wise enough to become king, and he was not ready to be unmade.”
“He does not seem weak to me,” Little Fur said.
“He is not,” Balidor said. “The fjord spirit used his wisdom against him. She prevented him from seeing what he might have seen without her.”
“What is that?” Little Fur asked softly.
“That humans are the greatest danger to the earth spirit and to all of the things that remain from the last ages of the world. Without them, your kind would not have to hide or keep themselves secret. If humans did not exist, earth magic would flow through everything. Humans are the true enemy of the earth spirit.”
“But you have said yourself that this is the age of humans,” Little Fur said. She was about to add that her adventures had also taught her that not all humans were black-hearted monsters bent on destruction, but Balidor spoke first.
“It is their age,” he said. “But do you not work against them every time you plant a seed in their city to strengthen the flow of earth magic?”
Little Fur was taken aback. “I am merely trying to make the flow strong enough so that humans will feel it. Then they will understand—”
“Understand what?” Balidor demanded. “That they are not the masters of the world, but only a part of it, just as the smallest saplings or wolf pups are?”
“But once they know what it is to be a part of—”
“Little Fur.” Balidor cut off her words gently. “Your heart is great, and I honor you for it. But humans do not see that they are part of the world. They know what they do harms other creatures and even their own kind, but they do it anyway. That is why trolls thrive in this time, and plot endlessly against the earth spirit. Wipe the race of humans from this age, and you will end the race of trolls as well.”
“Wipe—what do you mean?”
The wolf blinked. “I meant only that we must fight humans and all their works. But come, let me show you what else is here.” He led her around more of the unmelting ice panels. Little Fur was dizzied to see the wings of a fairie, the horn of a unicorn and the carvings of tree pixies, and even runes like those she had seen on the way to the troll city of Underth. A great sadness crept into her, for all that Balidor had said was true.
Shadow padded into the long chamber and spoke quietly to the king.
Balidor sighed and turned his pale, lovely eyes on Little Fur. “I wish I might spend long hours here with you, but I must be king. Cloud waits outside. He will escort you back to your chamber when you are ready. We will see one another tonight.”
Little Fur did not tarry long after the king had left, for she was worried about Gem. As she walked along with Cloud, she thought about the Wolf King. Balidor had been more beautiful and compelling than she had expected. But her meeting with him had raised more questions in her mind than it had answered.
Thanking the old wolf, Little Fur went back inside the chamber and nearly fell over in surprise. There stood the red-eyed rat Gazrak, whom she had last seen escaping from Underth. And with him was Crow!
CHAPTER 12
The Joining
“Gazrak! What are you doing here? Where is Ginger?”
“Gazrak will answer if Little Fur stops asking so many questions!” the rat snapped. He cast a warning look at the open door to her chamber. “Be quietful or the wolves will come.”
Little Fur could smell the rat’s fear. A wave of apprehension rose up in her. “Tell me everything,” she urged softly.
“No time for so much telling,” the rat said. “Gazrak will begin at the ending. We came to the mountains and Ginger was caught in a trap. Wolves came and freed him. He was bleeding and they brought us here. They promised to heal Ginger.”
“Ginger is here?”
“You are very interruptful,” Gazrak snapped. “Ginger is here! Is not Gazrak saying it already! All of us are here, and then the king of wolves says Ginger must stay until his paw is healed but we threesome must go home. Shikra said we will wait, but the Wolf King forbade it. Shikra asked if she could speak with Ginger, but the Wolf King said he was sleeping and that we must go to Little Fur and invite her to visit wolf keep. Gazrak smelled sharp teeth and dangerousness behind his inviting. We went, but when the wolves stopped following, we hid in a cave. Then Gazrak crept back and sniffed out the cat. He was in a cave with bars, and there was a chain on his leg. He said that he would free himself when his paw was healed and we must go as the Wolf King commanded. But we must tell Little Fur not to come to the mountains.”
Little Fur’s thoughts whirled like snowflakes in a storm. “Gazrak, where is Ginger? Take me to him.”
“No!” Gazrak cried, gnashing his teeth. “Little Fur not listening—you must leave! Why you are here? Did not Shikra instructioning you not to come?”
“I didn’t see Shikra. I came because the Sett Owl—”
“Sett Owl,” Gazrak sighed. “Happiest days of Gazrak’s life were with Herness. All else has been dangerful darkness.”
“Gazrak, the Sett Owl told me to find Ginger. You must take me to him. I won’t give up.”
“I told you so,” crowed Crow to Gazrak. Little Fur gave him a quick hug. Then she put wide-eyed Gem on her shoulder, donned her green stone and bade Crow fly outside to await them.
“We’ll all be killed,” moaned Gazrak.
“Don’t be afraid,” Little Fur told him. “I have a cloak that will hide us from the wolves. We will all escape together just as we escaped from the trolls in Underth.”
“And look where that getting us,” Gazrak muttered. He sniffed and sighed, and then he nodded. “All right, but if Ginger bites Gazrak, Gazrak will be biting Little Fur very hardly!”
Wrapped in her father’s cloak, with Gem upon her shoulder, Little Fur padded softly after the rat. There were many wolves about, but Little Fur kept to the shadows, and the cloak helped keep her scent close. Once Gazrak had to cause a slight distraction to allow her to get through a room where wolves were clustered, dividing up a boar they had killed. Little Fur understood from their words that the dead beast was being prepared for something called the Great Joining. The word reeked of almost-sickness.
Once they were past the group of wolves, they went deeper in the labyrinth of chambers and paths. There were a good many fewer wolves in the lower levels of the keep. Little Fur wondered how much of Balidor’s tale about the human was true. The treasures it had collected showed that the human had proven the existence of creatures from another age. It must have bought or stolen her cloak from the human that had taken it, but that still did not explain how Balidor had known it was hers. Nor how he had known so much of the human’s story. The only answer could be the mirror.
When they came to a ramp leading down to a door, Gazr
ak spoke: “Here is the chamber where are the prisoners of the Mystery kept.”
“We will need a distraction to get the guards out,” Little Fur said.
“No guardians are here,” Gazrak said. “Ginger is behind strong bars. He is not needful of guarding.”
“All right,” Little Fur said. “You wait here in that crack in the wall.” Little Fur removed her seed pouches and water gourd, putting them along with Gem in the crack so that she would be unhampered if she had to run. “Protect her,” she told Gazrak.
“Protector,” Gem said, regarding the rat solemnly.
The rat’s mouth fell open.
Little Fur hurried down the tunnel and entered a wide, low-roofed chamber with an earthen floor and stone walls. Her troll senses told her that she was below the level of the ground now. It was the work of a moment to find Ginger, but her heart sank at the sight of the thick bars and the heavy lock. Hiding her despair, she reached out through the bars to lay her hand on Ginger’s back.
He sat up slowly, and Little Fur smelled at once that he had been given a potion to make him sleepy. But he fought the fog in his mind and turned to look at her. There was love in his brilliant eyes.
“I dreamed that you would come,” he sighed in his deep, velvety voice. “I wished it and feared it.”
Little Fur slid her arms between the bars and put them around the big gray cat, pressing her face into his dense fur and drawing in the dear, warm smell of him. He felt thin under the thick fur, but he purred, and they sat like that for a long moment.
Finally, Little Fur pulled herself away. “Ginger, I know you tried to stop me from coming here, but the Sett Owl told me that I must come—”
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