The next day when he went to the fires, he blinked in surprise. He saw not only one wolf traveling east and north but two. They were, however, far apart, one seeming to follow the other. That same afternoon, he went into Fengo’s cave and roused him from his midday nap.
“What is it?” Fengo’s ears rose and twitched. He knew that his old friend would not wake him if it were not important.
“The fires.”
“What did you see?” Fengo’s green eyes glistened.
“Two wolves heading out of the Beyond, on a course that will take them across to Broken Talon Point.”
“And into the Northern Kingdoms—a land route. Longer but easier for a wolf.”
“But they’ll still have to swim at some point.” Especially, thought Grank, if they are heading toward Lord Arrin’s stronghold. They will have to cross the Bay of Fangs. Otherwise it would take them years! “Someone must know that he is here! Great Glaux!” Grank exclaimed. “But what possible interest would it be to the wolves? Who would betray us?”
Fengo was silent. Then stood up. “You go to sleep now, Grank. I’ll wake you when I find out more.”
Grank, of course, did not sleep and a short time later, Fengo burst into the cave that he shared with Hoole, Theo, and Phineas.
“I’m sorry to disturb you.”
“I wasn’t sleeping and I was already disturbed,” Grank replied drily. Theo and Phineas, however, had been sleeping. They stirred and blinked. Hoole slept on peacefully, most likely dreaming of bonk coals.
“What’s going on?” Phineas asked
“There’s a traitor—or two traitors—I should say,” Fengo replied gravely. “They are both gone. They are the ones headed toward Broken Talon Point.”
“Who?” asked Hoole, who had suddenly awakened.
“MacHeath and Hordweard!” Fengo snarled. “I knew she’d go back to him. I knew she would spy.” Fengo was absolutely fuming.
“What’s there to spy about?” Hoole asked. Grank and Fengo exchanged nervous looks.
Grank thought quickly. “Well, you know, Hoole—it is rather unusual, owls in the Beyond. And, of course, look at all we are doing here, catching coals, building fires and all sorts of wonderful tools—tongs, containers of all sizes, and that new metal sling that Theo invented. There is much that other owls, particularly those warring in the N’yrthghar, would want to know.”
“You mean the bad owls, Lord Arrin’s owls?” Hoole asked. “Not the good owls of the late King H’rath and Queen Siv.”
“Yes, precisely, lad,” Grank replied.
“And we feel that these two wolves have turned traitor on us. They have learned much and there is always a price for good information,” Fengo added.
“Not Hordweard,” Hoole said emphatically.
Fengo took a step closer. “What do you mean, ‘not Hordweard’?”
“I mean, she’s no traitor,” Hoole replied in an even voice.
“How would you know this?” Fengo pressed.
“I just know it. I can’t explain.”
“If you can’t explain it, then you shouldn’t say it. Nor should we believe it,” Fengo said contentiously with a patronizing tone that riled Hoole greatly.
Hoole puffed up his feathers. If he had had ear tufts they would have been sticking straight up. “I know this in the same way that I knew how to hunt caribou like a wolf when I traveled with you. I know this in the way I felt my wings become legs although I still flew. I know this, Fengo. Do not doubt me!”
Grank burned with pride as he listened to Hoole. This was not the whine of a bratty young’un, nor was it the uppity posturing of an ignorant fool. This was an owl whose seeds of Ga’ were beginning to stir. There was not a trace of rudeness in his voice. Nor arrogance. This was an owl who knew the truth and felt compelled to speak it regardless of age or rank. This was a prince.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
On the Island of Dark Fowl
Siv had flown out of the Bitter Sea direct to Dark Fowl Island. She and Svenka had planned to meet there. It was, at this time of summer, one of the most ice-free places in the N’yrthghar. And therefore safe from hagsfiends. Miraculously, she had not been hurt in the encounter on the island and she could only pray that Hoole had gotten away safely. She was sure they had all escaped because Grank had arrived with two other owls, and both he and the Great Horned Owl were wearing strange-looking claws that appeared as deadly as any ice weapon. But she had seen her son! She had talked to her son!
Svenka’s cubs, Anka and Rolf, had grown huge over the summer. They were now as tall as Svenka’s belly when she stood up. But they still tumbled about like little cubs. Siv loved watching and playing with them. Berries grew all over the island and they often went berry picking together. They swam beautifully now, like their mother, and were becoming very good at fishing. Siv’s gizzard gave a sharp little twinge when she recalled the image of Hoole diving so beautifully into the cove’s waters and coming back with a fish, time after time. It was really quite amazing. She had never seen an owl, save for a Fish Owl, dive with such grace and accuracy. He seemed to sense exactly where a fish was going to swim.
She heard frightened yelps from the cubs now.
“What is it?”
“Auntie!” they screeched. Svenka, off seal hunting, was nowhere around.
Siv immediately flew to the nearby point where they had been frolicking in the water. A strange creature was crawling from the sea. She blinked. She could not believe her eyes. It was a wolf! But even wet she had never seen one this enormous. A dire wolf, she thought. There was only one place such wolves were known to inhabit—the Beyond. Grank had told her about them. Siv was immediately alert. There was something frightening about this wolf, but she did not want to betray her fear to the cubs. So she drew herself up tall and fluffed out her feathers.
“Greetings!” she said with great dignity.
The wolf grunted something.
“How come you only have one eye?” Rolf asked.
“Rolf, that is very rude,” Anka said. “You shouldn’t say things like that. Should he, Auntie?”
“You want to know, little one, why I only have one eye?”
Rolf hesitated. “Uh…yes.” He stole a look at Siv.
Siv’s gizzard was roiling. This wolf was setting off all sorts of alarms.
“It’s because a very evil wolf bit it out.”
“Who was the evil wolf?” Rolf asked.
“Fengo.”
Fengo! The name shrieked in Siv’s brain. Fengo wasn’t evil. Fengo was Grank’s best friend. Oh, this was bad. Very bad. She wished Svenka were here. She had to find out what this wolf wanted and send him on his way quickly.
Siv had not spent a lifetime in court without gaining her fair share of diplomatic skills. She knew it was best not to ask direct questions of creatures of whom one was suspect. It only aroused their defenses. So she did not ask where he had come from or where he was going or why. She acted as if it were the most natural thing in the world for a dire wolf from the Beyond to be crawling out of the sea of the N’yrthghar, sodden and exhausted.
“I can tell you are very tired and most likely hungry. Now, what can we offer you? We have some fish and also I have a few lemmings tucked away.”
“Thank you, madame,” MacHeath said. He enjoyed her deference, her respect—something his mates rarely showed him. These owls must know how to train their females better than we wolves do, he thought.
He found the lemmings quite sumptuous. “Would you like some more?” Siv asked, even though she had only a few left. Wolves, she knew, were known for their very large appetites, much larger than those of owls.
“And how about some of our bingle juice,” she offered.
“Bingle juice? I have never heard of that.”
“Oh, it’s great but if you…” Rolf began to speak, but Siv shot the cub a sharp glance, and he immediately shut his muzzle. If she could “bingle” this wolf up a little she might get some information from h
im.
She brought him an ice cup filled with the juice. “The berries for the juice grow all over this island. It is known for the sweetness of its bingle berries.”
He took a large swallow of the juice and pronounced it delicious. “I am very tired. I didn’t realize the currents would be so strong. I was carried off course.”
Should she ask him what his course was? No, she decided. Another cup of bingle juice and it might just come out.
Three cups later, Svenka arrived and the wolf who had introduced himself as MacHeath was somewhat tipsy. His voice had thickened and he was now complaining about his mates. “They give me no respect. No respect at all. Bunch of lazy she wolves is what they be.”
“Oh, Svenka, meet our guest. He’s from the Southern Kingdoms, Beyond the Beyond.” Siv blinked and gave the great polar bear a knowing look. “He had a terrible fight with a wolf named Fengo,” she said the word slowly. Siv had told Svenka all about Grank’s sojourns into the Beyond. “He says that there are some owls up there now and he is heading north from here but got carried off course by the currents.”
Svenka was a quick study. She hid the alarm in her face and greeted him warmly. By this time MacHeath was slurring his words. “I say, all the females of this region are so…so…” He passed out as he was about to say “so” again.
“Watch him, children!” Svenka said. “Auntie and I have to talk. Tell us if he wakes up.”
While MacHeath slept, Svenka and Siv went a short distance away where there was no chance of being overhead.
“He’s heading for the Firth of Fangs, I’m sure. And I think he knows about Lord Arrin.”
“How can you be sure, Siv?”
“You didn’t hear it all. He was rambling on about how he gets no respect but when a big powerful owl heard what he had to tell him, what he knew, he’d not only get respect, but power. He says there’s something in the Beyond—I’m not sure what it is—but he says it’s more powerful than anything else on earth. It came out in bits and pieces, and probably not all of it. But he’s bad, Svenka. You can see that.”
Svenka nodded her huge white head. “I don’t doubt you, Siv. I just think we should make sure.”
“How do we make sure?” Siv asked.
“I’ll follow him. Or better yet, I’ll guide him partway to where he wants to go.”
“But, Svenka, that could be dangerous for you. Think of your cubs. I know you are strong but the hagsfiends cast their fyngrot on you once. They could do it again.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take him partway by water. Then I’ll show him the overland route, if it is to Lord Arrin’s stronghold he wants to go. But I know a shortcut. There are bears up there who are my friends. And remember, at this time of year there is a lot of free water, no ice. We needn’t fear hagsfiends. Please don’t worry.”
“There’s no way I won’t worry, Svenka. You know that.”
“Yes, I know. But if Lord Arrin finds out that Hoole is in the Beyond…”
Siv shuddered at the thought. Svenka was right. Lord Arrin and his troops had made steady advances against the H’rathian forces that were now scattered and leader-less. If he captured or killed Hoole that would be the end of the N’yrthghar. It would fall under the rule of tyrants and nachtmagen.
“You’re right. You must go. Thank you, Svenka.”
Later that evening, MacHeath climbed on Svenka’s back and the polar bear began swimming across the Everwinter Sea and into the Bay of Fangs. So once more Svenka and Siv parted. Siv perched on Anka’s head and the two cubs and the owl waved good-bye.
Meanwhile, an earless wolf took up a post on Broken Talon Point, which jutted into the Southern Sea. Hordweard had followed MacHeath as far as she dared. She knew if he did come back, it would be by this route—and she would be waiting for him. She had become stronger and sleeker on this journey. She hunted for herself now and ate her fill; not subsisting on the scraps left for low-ranking wolves as she had for countless moon cycles. She doubted if she would ever return to the dire wolves in the Beyond. Fengo, for all his brave words that MacHeath’s mates could go free, had done nothing to help her. She should have known. No one would go near a wolf once tainted by Dunleavy MacHeath. Wolves and their superstitions! She spat on the ground in disgust. She had become worse than a low-ranking wolf. She had been shunned to the point that she was nonexistent. They looked through her as if she were air. She was invisible to all except for the young owl, the one called Hoole. He had seen her, had even approached her on occasion, only to be warned off by Fengo.
Invisibility had its advantages, however. She would not be missed for a while. When she had finished her business with MacHeath she would go off somewhere. She was not sure where. She would change her name, too. No more MacHeath for her. Her mum’s name had been Namara. Perhaps she would call herself that. She would live alone. She needed no one now. She felt younger than she had in years. Hunting for herself, she was better fed than she had ever been. She was limber once again and her coat had grown glossy.
She was unsure what exactly MacHeath was doing, but she was certain that he was up to no good. How furious he had been when she returned the gnaw-bone. In his rage, he flung it at her and missed. It had cracked open on a rock. What a wailing his mates had sent up. Nothing was thought to bode such ill luck as a fractured gnaw-bone. Superstition again. What fools!
Still, MacHeath had found out something and was obviously on his way to the Northern Kingdoms. She sensed that it had something to do with Hoole. She liked Hoole. Something deep within her wanted to protect him, and something even deeper sensed that he was in grave danger. MacHeath had murdered her only pup. She would not let harm come to this young owl. She was sick of MacHeath’s bullying and she felt a rage unlike any she had ever experienced. MacHeath would have to come back by the land route. He would be worn out. She would be fresh. Yes, fresh for the kill.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Svenka’s Trek
Grank once again could not sleep. It was nearly autumn, and still Hoole had not discovered nor even sensed the presence of the ember despite frolicking all the livelong night around the volcanoes. Grank and Theo had more bonk coals than they knew what to do with. Grank himself had never seen such a flier as Hoole. He negotiated the fickle hot drafts and vexing cool spots above the craters nimbly and with such grace! Hoole far surpassed Grank’s own skills of colliering. He had even taught Phineas and Theo how to catch a few bonk ones, and most extraordinary of all, he had taught some of the wolves on the watch how to jump high and catch coals.
Occasionally, he would ask a few questions of Dunmore about the watch, but he did not seem curious any longer as to what they might be guarding. Had Grank made a mistake about the young’un’s destiny? Was Hoole perhaps not the owl he thought he was? A prince by blood, by accident of birth, by name but perhaps not of gizzard? Perhaps his gizzard was a very ordinary one like most owls in which the seeds of Ga’ were lodged but still, doomed never to sprout. But when he remembered that seedling in the middle of the island in the Southern Sea, he took hope. He had not imagined it, for Phineas and Theo had seen it as well. The seedling had grown more in a few hours than most do in a full circle of seasons. They never discussed it. It was as if the strange seedling was a secret that they all kept in their gizzards and that talking about would make less real.
Svenka had left MacHeath just north of the Ice Talons. It would still be a long haul for the wolf to reach Lord Arrin’s stronghold. Svenka neglected to tell him that swimming there would be much quicker. Nor did she tell him that she knew an inlet through which she could pass that would get her there a good day before MacHeath would arrive. Once there she planned to find an old friend of hers, Svarr, the father of Anka and Rolf. It was not yet mating season but she knew where Svarr usually denned this time of year. It was not far from Lord Arrin’s stronghold. So she climbed out of the sea and headed inland.
“What are you doing here? It’s not mating season yet. I’m not really in the mood,
” Svarr said.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Svenka replied. “I’m not here for that.”
“What are you here for?” Svarr looked at Svenka blankly.
“Look, Svarr, I know you might have trouble understanding this because…well…you’re a male polar bear and you don’t care really all that much about young’uns and cubs.”
“That’s for mothers.”
“Yes, exactly.”
He interrupted before she could continue. “But, by the way, did you have any cubs last season?”
“Yes, three. One died. But the other two are fine.”
“Good. Now what is it you’ve come for?” he asked.
“Well, I’ve made friends with a lovely female owl. And she is most worried about her young’un. She thinks that Lord Arrin or one of his hagsfiends wants him for some reason.”
“Oh, Great Ursa, the way those owls and hagsfiends carry on.” Svarr sighed. “This stupid war. Too bad about King H’rath. He was a good bloke. And Lord Arrin’s lieutenants are always trying to get young’uns who fought with H’rath to join them. He’s a very bad sort.”
“Yes, that’s just the point. My friend wants to know exactly what Lord Arrin is up to these days.” Svenka had to be careful. She didn’t want to say too much, but she was actually tempted to tell him a little more. Svarr was a good fellow and she knew that in his own dull way he had really admired H’rath. The only reason Svarr had ventured so close to Lord Arrin’s stronghold was that the seal hunting was good.
“Look, Svarr, can you keep a secret?” Svenka asked.
“Who do I ever see, except you once a year?”
“Well, I know sometimes you see what’s her name, Svaala?”
“Gone!”
“Oh, too bad.”
Svarr shrugged his shoulders. “So, what is the secret?”
Svenka proceeded to tell him that her special friend was Queen Siv. She continued with the story of the young owl prince and the traitorous wolf from the Beyond.