The Elders Page 7

  Siffrin’s eyes widened and his ears rotated.

  Then I heard it—the chorus of yaps. A group of coyotes emerged from the mist. Their eyes skated over the foxes at the entrance to the den. They couldn’t see Siffrin behind thick shrubs.

  Karo, Flint, Tao, and Simmi arched their backs as the coyotes approached. A large, pale-furred female headed the pack.

  “Come no further!” Karo spat bravely. “We don’t want to fight you, but we will if we have to.”

  The coyote snorted. “You? Fight us?” The rest of the pack yipped in amusement. Her yellow eyes darkened. “You’ll be forced to if you don’t give us the rabbits. We came to see this land of plenty with our own eyes. We have traveled far this night. Do not disappoint us, Fox.” The coyote scratched the earth with her long claws.

  “There are scarcely enough rabbits in this meadow to feed our skulk,” hissed Flint. “Our cache is empty. We cannot help you.”

  My tail twitched guiltily.

  The coyote sniffed, her eyes sliding over the foxes and across the tangling grass. “I smell no abundance of rabbits.” Her lip peeled back and she growled in frustration. “We are deceived!”

  “Sneaky foxes!” snarled the pack. “Wicked foxes!” They started forward, snarling and yapping, spit bubbling at their jaws.

  Siffrin whispered to me urgently. “I was traveling alone …” His ears were flat. “Isla, you must know how hard I tried to find you. I’ll lead this pack away—I won’t let them hurt you.”

  I didn’t have time to answer. He stepped out from between the shrubs to face the coyotes. “Leave the foxes alone.”

  The coyotes fell back in confusion, their cackles lapsing into whines.

  “Chief!” spluttered the pale-furred female. “I thought you would want us to …” Her words trailed away. I could see her nostrils pulsing. “You smell … different.”

  “Different?” snarled Siffrin, rising to his full height and glaring at the pack.

  “I am mistaken, Chief,” she whined, collapsing before him and exposing her creamy belly. “I beg your forgiveness.”

  The pack started to dip their heads and fawn, backing away with muzzles lowered.

  They’re scared of Siffrin!

  He had shifted his shape into a coyote, but not just any coyote: the chief of the pack. I watched in amazement as they whimpered their apologies. From the reaction of the pack, I guessed the real chief was formidable.

  “There is nothing here for us,” Siffrin sniffed. “Ground squirrels live at the foot of the hills. Let’s go.”

  The pack muttered and yelped in agreement.

  An outraged howl cut over their voices. “How dare you scrape and pander to another? I am your leader! I am your chief!” A figure shoved between the coyotes and they dropped to the ground, whining and rolling, kicking their paws in the air. The chief strode toward Siffrin. His head was raised proudly and contempt was etched onto his muzzle. One of his long, pointed ears was torn at the end. There was a jagged scar above his lip.

  Standing behind me, Simmi gasped. “Those two coyotes … they’re just the same!”

  It was the leader of the pack: the one that Siffrin was imitating. With a lurch I remembered the dread I’d felt on seeing myself as an echo in wa’akkir. That was Siffrin in disguise, too. I might have killed him …

  The coyote chief locked eyes on his double as his pack tossed and whimpered around him. At first I saw confusion on his face.

  It was quickly replaced by rage. “What are you?” he choked. “How dare you?”

  I glanced at Karo and the other foxes. They stared, bewildered, at the two chiefs standing off.

  “Siffrin, what are you doing?” I hissed. “Don’t you remember how dangerous this is? You’ll send him mad!”

  Siffrin kept his attention on the chief but murmured to me in a low voice. “This is my fault, Isla. I thought the coyotes were far behind me, but I must have led them to this den. It’s my mistake and I’ll fix it.” He started stalking away from me, his attention on the coyote chief.

  “I don’t get it!” Tao whined.

  “How is this possible?” breathed Simmi in awe.

  “Foxcraft,” I murmured as Siffrin edged into the deep foliage.

  The chief exploded into frightful yelps. “You! What are you? Who are you?” He spat on the ground and stumbled, belching noisily. “You trickster. You … monster!” He lurched at Siffrin’s disappearing tail. “I’ll get you,” he snarled. “I’ll kill you!” He burst forward and Siffrin sprang out of the way, breaking across the meadow. The coyote staggered into a run, clumsy but determined, and the baffled pack started after him.

  “The first coyote knew Isla,” said Tao. “He called her by her name.”

  The foxes fell silent. I felt their eyes boring into my back. But I didn’t turn, I was already running—chasing the pack into the morning mist.

  * * *

  The coyotes were pounding through the grass, their tails bobbing in formation. I hurried behind them as they zigzagged between hazel and pointy gorse with yellow flowers. They stormed toward the rising sun, their fur dusted gold in the morning light. Siffrin and the chief were already far ahead, beyond my range of vision.

  The stream appeared, tumbling into my path. I ran alongside it, lagging behind the coyotes. Everything was different in the light of dawn. The chirping night creatures had retreated, replaced by buzzing insects. A rabbit was hopping near the base of a tree. I didn’t spare it a second glance.

  The land staggered uphill and the stream fell away, the ground growing grainy beneath my paws. Ferns sprang up along the meadow, crowding a path toward tall pines. I was falling behind the coyotes, who ran with impressive endurance and speed. Panting wildly, I saw them dive over the ferns and duck beneath the trees.

  By the time I entered the forest, I could hardly see the pack, but I could hear their yelps and heavy breaths and feel their footfalls as they thumped the loam. Up rose the ground beneath my paws, climbing sharply into a hill. Pain pulsed in my legs and my muscles quivered but I pushed on harder, determined to catch up with them.

  As I dived between two trees, I stumbled on a knotty root. My legs folded under me and I fell onto the spongy forest floor, my chest heaving.

  With a grimace, I dragged myself upright and started loping more slowly among the pines. It was no use. I could no longer feel the vibration of thumping paws. Had the coyotes finally stopped, or were they too far away to detect? My ears rotated and my whiskers edged forward. As I bounded down the hump of the hill I heard yelps and growls. I saw the edges of a rocky plain and the outline of furry bodies. They were springing up and down, snarling and baying in a circle like dogs.

  Two figures fought in the middle.

  Siffrin was confronting the chief. I stalked closer, hanging behind the trees. The sight was disturbing: two identical coyotes facing off. I couldn’t make out which one was Siffrin. I watched tensely as they jostled and snapped, rolling together and breaking apart.

  “Filthy impostor!” One of the coyotes lunged at the other, throwing him onto his back. The one who fell—it must have been Siffrin—cried out as he smacked the stone ground. Not far from where he landed, the rocky plane ended abruptly. From my angle at the edge of the trees, I couldn’t see what stood beyond.

  The pack closed in around the warring coyotes, their bloodlust whipping them into howls. Occasionally they snapped at Siffrin, landing cruel bites on his flank, though they dropped back to let their chief do the fighting. It struck me that I was in terrible danger. If they turned, if they saw me, they’d kill me in their frenzy.

  I cowered close to the base of a tree, trying to work out who was winning. I saw the fight in glimpses of fur within the baying pack. One of the fighting coyotes was wounded. I caught a flash of bright red blood.

  Please don’t let it be Siffrin.

  The bloody coyote twisted away, panting heavily. “I don’t want to fight. Let me go.”

  My heart sank. I knew that voice. />
  “You’re not going anywhere!” spat the chief. Blood seeped from the edge of his mouth. I remembered the fury that had stolen my thoughts when I’d met Siffrin as my double. I knew that the chief would never give up. It was a kind of sickness of the mind. A coyote was powerful, more resilient than a fox cub. His pack roared him on as the haze of wa’akkir cast a spell of rage over him. He fell back onto his haunches. His powerful rear legs flexed as he prepared to pounce. He threw his jaws open and charged at Siffrin.

  I held my breath.

  At the last moment, Siffrin rolled out of the way, tumbling to a halt and scrambling to his paws. But the chief wasn’t quick enough to stop. He flung himself forward, his legs pumping wildly as he flew over the rocky plain. I couldn’t see how far he fell but I could tell that the chief was in trouble from the hushed whimpers of his pack.

  They ran back and forth along the edge of the rock, whining and smacking into one another.

  The pale coyote who’d threatened the fox skulk drew back and looked to the sky. “A blood sun is risen!” she howled in despair. “Our chief is dying!”

  The pack dropped onto their bellies, yelping in terror and remorse.

  “To the territory!” cried the pale coyote. “We must share our rites with the spirits.”

  The pack moved abruptly, their shrill howls rising in unison. I dropped into the undergrowth as they pounded past. I waited until I could no longer feel their pawsteps and their cries had faded on the breeze. Then I drew in my breath and stepped out from behind the tree.

  I moved warily to the rock plane. Splatters of blood lit the sun-touched stone. With a deep breath, I peered over the edge. Brush-lengths down was another heel of rock, white and flat like a bone. On it lay the broken chief. He wasn’t dead—or not yet. I heard his labored breath and saw his eyes reel in their sockets. A wave of sympathy broke inside me. I knew what it was to feel the sickness he’d felt. The rage, the violence … A coyote was a natural enemy, a threat to foxes. But the way things had ended … it wasn’t all his fault.

  His eyes rolled up in my direction but they seemed to gaze through me, to the sky beyond. They were wet and shiny like ice. What did he see up there? I glanced over my shoulder at the dawn light. It glowed deep crimson.

  A blood sun is risen!

  I shrank away from the edge of the rock and looked around me. At first I saw no sign of Siffrin. Then I heard a whimper. He had made it over the rock and into the woods, but he hadn’t gone far. Under the shade of a giant fern, I saw him shudder and collapse on his side. He was still in the form of the coyote chief.

  I ran to him. His eyes were squeezed shut and his breath escaped in shallow pants.

  “What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?” Urgently I sniffed his fur, examining his injuries. Blood gushed from scratches on his shoulders, and his flanks were riddled with bites, but none of these seemed deep. I found no sign of serious harm—nothing to explain his wretched state.

  I thought of the real coyote chief, battered and broken on the rock below. Could it be that fox and coyote were somehow intertwined? What if the chief’s death meant Siffrin’s own?

  Heat pulsed at my ears and my body ached with tension. “Change back!” I yelped. “You’re still in wa’akkir. Change back to a fox, before it’s too late!”

  The sun cut a path between leafless branches, lighting up the forest floor. Birds warbled overhead, indifferent to Siffrin’s suffering. His legs had started twitching and his eyes were still clamped shut.

  “Listen to me,” I snapped in frustration. “You have to change back!”

  Paws crunched on twigs and I shot around to see a long, pointed snout. “Karo … What are you doing here?”

  Flint, Simmi, and Tao appeared.

  Haiki jogged up behind them, staring dumbly at me and Siffrin. “Isla, what’s going on? I stepped out of the den for air and when I returned they said you’d run after a pack of coyotes?” His tail flicked anxiously. “I was so worried about you!”

  “We were all worried,” said Flint. “You’re just a cub. We saw the rest of the pack charging through the forest. They were making a terrible noise, howling and yelping.”

  “What happened to the coyote?” Simmi murmured. “There’s something about him …”

  Karo padded closer. “He isn’t a coyote.” She met my eye. “Is he, Isla?”

  My whiskers bristled. “He’s called Siffrin. He’s trapped in wa’akkir.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Tao.

  I didn’t have time for this. “The shape-shifting foxcraft,” I snapped. “He only looks like a coyote—like the coyote chief.”

  The young fox screwed up his muzzle. “All that jabber Mox came out with, about invisibility and changing shape … It can’t be true?”

  Karo spoke over him. “Where’s the real chief?”

  My voice was sharp with panic. “Over on the rocks, he’s badly injured. I don’t know, but I think that if he dies—”

  “Then the fox dies too?” Karo’s ears flipped back.

  A mewl escaped my throat and I swallowed. Desperation was clawing at me. “He’s too weak to change back into his own form.”

  The foxes padded closer, peering down at Siffrin. He was hardly moving anymore. I thought of the coyote chief, out on the bone-white rock.

  Karo stepped alongside me. “There’s nothing you can do. He doesn’t have long.”

  Flint sniffed Siffrin’s muzzle. “Can you hear that? Like a hiss in the air. His maa is departing.”

  I stared at Siffrin, helpless. I thought I could just sense a fizzle, like the softest breath. A shimmer of light hung over him. Sorrow crept over my pelt. I shook my head sharply. What had Flint just said?

  His maa is departing.

  There was something I could do!

  “Open your eyes!” I barked, dropping down to Siffrin’s ear. “Open your eyes right now.”

  He murmured and turned his head, his eyes still shut.

  I pressed down very close to him as the other foxes watched. “Listen to me, Siffrin, I can’t help unless you look at me. Don’t tell me you’re ready to give up so soon. I thought I knew you better.”

  His whiskers flexed. I could see how hard he was working just to take in my words. Then his eyelashes fluttered.

  I could feel the other foxes staring but I didn’t look up. I focused on Siffrin as he opened his eyes. They held the same icy gleam of the coyote chief. I tried not to think of that broken beast, dying alone on the rock. Instead I recalled the maa-sharm chant.

  “With my touch, I sense you; with my eyes, I heal you. By Canista’s Lights, I share what I have; we are knit together and you are whole.”

  His eyes were only half-open. Would it work? I waited for that magical feeling to rise inside me, but all I heard was the warbling of birds and Siffrin’s labored breath.

  I tried again. “With my touch, I sense you; with my eyes, I heal you …”

  The coyote’s broad sandy muzzle wrinkled with effort as Siffrin’s eyes widened. He forced himself to look at me properly. I felt a sharp yank and stumbled closer, as though he had pulled me toward him. I steadied myself, my gaze fixed on his. Something was happening. My whiskers bristled and my brush swept behind me, tingling with heat. I felt a flash of light leap between us as the world around me grew vague.

  With my touch, I sense you; with my eyes, I heal you …

  Memories raced through my mind. I pictured Pirie prancing by my side, his mottled tail lashing as he mock bowed and rolled in the grass. I heard Ma’s voice, and the thump of Fa’s paws on soft earth. The scent of hazel and cedar pricked my nose and I sighed, brought back to another time. Greatma padded through the wildway, a pigeon in her jaws. Pirie bounded toward her and I ran after him, shunting him out of the way with a friendly nudge. We growled and yipped as she set down the limp bird. I sank in my teeth, tasting the plump flesh. Pirie bit into the pigeon’s leg and we jostled for the carcass, ripping off meat in a whirr of gray feathers.

  I sh
ook my fur, the feathers spinning around me like a snowstorm. Between them I saw a valley where rabbits ran anxious loops. A vixen stalked between marshes, lowering her body and angling her head with expert precision. Her coat was of the deepest red I’d ever seen. Slowly, she curved around the edge of a marsh, then paused, her ears twisting forward and back, before starting to run. She seized on a rabbit and threw it down, snapping its neck with a shake.

  Her golden eyes turned my way.

  She caught it for me, I thought gratefully. A surge of happiness struck me, so powerful that I caught my breath.

  The spinning gray pigeon feathers rose in the wind. They knotted and clotted like clouds. As the sky grew darker, the red-furred vixen seemed further away. Lost amid marshes, fading from sight. I paused, head cocked. The feathers were on the move again, crumbling to ash, swept on the morning wind. I saw a blood-red sun as it rose on the horizon. Day turned to night, and night to day. Clouds drifted and parted and leaves grew bronze before floating down from the trees. They shimmered on the forest floor, gilded with an amber gleam. Burnished leaves, the color of dawn. The color of Siffrin’s eyes.

  He was the first to blink, just as he had been when we’d shared maa in the Snarl. His jaw strained with effort and he squeezed his eyes shut. In the moment that his eyes closed, I felt a sharp wrench and tumbled backward with a sigh. My head sank down to the forest floor and I panted for breath. There was a metallic taste in my mouth. Pain burrowed beneath the soft fur of my ears and expanded across my head. A deep fatigue crept over my body.

  My paw pads were icy. The warmth of maa-sharm was replaced by a lingering sorrow.

  Lifting my throbbing head to the pine trees, I forced myself to remember where I was. I looked around. Haiki, Karo, and the others were staring, but not at me. I followed their awestruck gazes back to Siffrin. Where the sandy-furred coyote had lain, a red-furred fox stretched his legs. His ears were pricked, his long brush flecked with light. His golden eyes were luminous.

  Siffrin rose to his paws like a new fox.

  * * *

  I awoke in a warm, dark burrow on my own. The ground was dry beneath my belly and my paws had lost their icy chill. Gingerly, I stretched. The pain in my head had dulled. I yawned and shook out my fur.