Outcast (19 page)

"So this is Renn," said Seshru, leaning back on her hands and regarding her with amusement. "What a little vixen! It was you who helped him resist me, wasn't it? You must have some small talent for Magecraft." She paused. "But of course you do! And we both know why."

Shakily Renn nocked an arrow to her bow.
Torak grabbed her arm. "Renn, no!"
"You can't; she's not armed!" cried Bale.
Seshru laughed, baring her white throat. "Oh, she won't shoot! She can't. Can you, Renn?"
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Trembling from head to foot, Renn lowered her bow.
"I knew she wouldn't," said the Viper Mage with contempt. She turned her gaze on Bale. "To kill a weaponless woman ... who could do such a thing? Gould you?" Her beauty caught him in its web, and his axe slid from his grasp.
"I didn't think so," she said. "That would be the mark of a weak man, and you're not weak. You're a Seal Clan hunter. You're strong."
Bale shook himself and drew a deep breath, as if coming up for air. But his arms hung limp at his sides.
The Viper Mage withdrew her gaze from him, and again Torak felt its force. It was like staring at the sun.
"Don't look at her," said Renn. "Don't listen to her!"

Torak gripped his knife-hilt till his knuckles were white. This knife had belonged to Fa. Fa had had the strength to resist the Soul-Eaters. So must he. "I-- won't go with you," he said at last. "I won't help you find the fire-opal."

"Oh, but you will," said Seshru, and her lips parted in noiseless laughter. "When you know the truth, you will!"
"No."
"You see," she continued as if he hadn't spoken, "I can make you leave your friends--I can cut you out
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from your safe little herd--just as easily as snapping my fingers."
"No," whispered Torak.

"She's lying," said Renn in an odd, pleading tone. "That's what she does, Torak, she lies! She takes credit for things she didn't do; she denies the crimes she did. You can't believe anything she says!"

 

"Some things you can," Seshru told Renn, her voice tinged with venom. "We both know that, don't we, Renn? Although I must say, I'm surprised that you never told him.

If he's your friend--if you care for him as much as he cares for you--and he does care, he really does ... Not to have told him!
Such
a mistake! But then," she added slyly, "you already know it was a mistake. Don't you, Renn?" Torak saw that Renn's face had gone chalk white. "Renn?" he said. "What's wrong?" Renn's eyes were shadowy hollows, her expression unreadable. "I was going to tell you," she said in a strangled voice. "But I could never ... It was never the right time." He began to feel cold. "Tell me what?"
"Haven't you guessed?" said Seshru, leaning forward and watching him with the fixity of a snake closing on its prey. "Guessed what?" said Torak. "Renn, what is it?"
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Seshru smiled her carrion smile. "Tell him, Renn. Tell him!"
Renn opened her mouth, but no sound came.
"What?"
shouted Torak.
The Viper Mage licked her black lips and hissed,
"She is my daughter!"
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THIRTY-TWO

Renn wished Torak would say something-- . anything--but he just stood there, staring at her. And that was worse. "I wanted to tell you," she said. "It was never the right time." He looked as if he'd been kicked in the chest. He looked as if he didn't know who she was. She said, "I couldn't tell you in the beginning. You would never have been friends with me."
"Two summers," he said quietly. "You hid this for two whole summers."
She felt cold: a deep inner cold that went beyond
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shivering. "I thought maybe you'd guessed. When you spirit walked in that elk. And the viper. I thought you were angry."
"No. You hid it too well."
She flinched. "You--you hid things too," she faltered. "You didn't tell me about the Soul-Eater tattoo. But I got over it. I understood."

"That was for two moons. Not two summers." He took a few steps away, then turned and confronted her. The blood had left his face. His lips had a grayish tinge. "The first time I met you," he said slowly, "I felt there was--something. I didn't trust you." He paused. "Turns out I was right."

"How can you say that?" she burst out. "Of course you can trust me!"
He was shaking his head in disbelief. "Two whole summers. I was your friend and you lied to me, every single day."
"You're still my friend!" she cried. "I'm still Renn! Still the same person!"
Bale stepped between them. "Torak. She never meant to hurt you."
"What do you know?" snapped Torak. "Keep out of this; it's got nothing to do with you!"
"Torak,
please?
said Renn. "I
know
I should've told you...."
"Get away from me!" His face worked. "I never
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want to see you again! Just--get away!" She turned and fled.
"Renn, come back!" shouted Bale. "No--Torak-- don't you go too!
Renn!
We've got to keep together! This is just what she wants!"

Renn tore through the bracken, not caring where she went. As she ran, she saw that the Viper Mage was gone from the boulder. She had scattered them just as she'd said she would: as easily as snapping her fingers.

 

Torak's only thought was to be on his own. He could hear Bale crashing after him, but the Seal boy was no match for him in a darkened Forest, and he was soon left behind.

 

At last Torak reached the shore and had to stop. The reeds stood deathly still, like a thicket of spears. He hardly saw them. It was a hot, still night, and the sweat was pouring off him, but he was shaking with cold.

Images from the past flashed before him. Renn's talent for Magecraft. Her reluctance to practice it. Her refusal to explain why.
She and the Viper Mage even looked alike! The same pale skin and high-boned, regular features. Why hadn't he seen it?
But what hit hardest and hurt the most was that she'd kept this from him for so long. That she could be capable of such deception. It turned her into someone else, someone he didn't know. And that was the worst, because it meant that he'd lost her. He was alone again, just like when Fa was killed. No, he thought, not alone. Never alone, while you've got Wolf. Wolf never lied to him. Wolf wouldn't know how.

Putting up his head, Torak howled.
Come to me, pack-brother! I need you!
Heedless of the Viper Mage, he shut his eyes and put all his pain and loneliness into his howls.

At first he heard nothing. Then, very faint, came an answering howl.
At least--Torak
thought
it was Wolf, but it was too far away to make out. Maybe it wasn't Wolf at all, but one of the others. Maybe it was nothing to do with him. Bereft, he wandered along the shore.
Much later, he found himself sitting at the southern tip of the island, gazing over the Lake. He had no idea how he'd got there. He only knew that he was very, very tired.

Far to the south, he made out the lights of the Otter camp; nearer, to the west, the glimmer of campfires. Distractedly, he wondered what that meant. Maybe the clans were coming after him. He couldn't bring himself to care.

On the Lake a shadow slid toward him. He couldn't summon the strength to hide. With his axe in one hand, he rose to his feet.
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Whoever it was moved skillfully, nosing toward him as silently as a pike.
"Torak. Get in." Bale spoke quietly from the gloom. Torak didn't move.
"Torak! Come
on
--the Viper Mage could be anywhere. And judging from those campfires, half the clans have come after you!"

When Torak still didn't move, Bale sighed. "I know this is hard, but there's no time. We'll head for the north shore; they won't dare hunt us there. Then we'll look for Renn."

"No," said Torak. "You do what you like. I'm going to find Wolf."
"Wolf will find you, but Renn's out there alone, and that--creature--could be anywhere!"
"I don't care."
"Yes you do. If anything happened to Renn, you'd never forgive yourself--and neither would I. Now get in!"
The Bright White Eye was shining in the Up as Wolf paced the ridge.

During the Light he'd told himself that all was well: that once he knew the cubs were safe at their new resting place, he could race back and fetch Tall Tailless. Then, far in the distance, he'd heard his pack-brother's desperate howl.

 

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The other wolves had heard it too, but to his dismay, they'd hardly stirred. The cubs lay in an exhausted heap, and the full-growns--tired from the journey-- sprawled, whiffling, in their sleep. Tall Tailless was their friend, but he wasn't of the pack, as Wolf was of the pack.

 

This troubled Wolf. He wanted everyone to be together, as they had been on the island.

 

Trotting down to Darkfur, he snuffle-licked her muzzle. Sleepily she raised her head and thumped her tail, then slumped back on her side. Soon her paws were twitching in her sleep.

The lead wolf felt Wolf's worry and woke.
Wolf dropped his ears and wagged his tail, apologizing for leaving. Then he started down the ridge.
It helped to be on the move. He would hurry back to the Den and find Tall Tailless. Then he would lead him to the pack, and everything would be all right.

For a while he gave himself up to the whisper of the gray flowers against his fur and the sweet breath of the slumbering trees; but the part of him that was always on watch noted that this Dark, smells and sounds were keener than usual. His pelt was tight; his pads tingled. The Thunderer was restless. There was going to be a storm.

Reaching flatter ground, he slowed. He smelled dogs.
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Some he knew, many he didn't. Keeping downwind, he crept past the great Dens of the taillesses, which clustered by the Wet like a herd of aurochs. So many taillesses! Here were ones who smelled of boar and raven and even of wolf; but he couldn't stop to explore.

 

Beyond the Dens he quickened his pace, weaving through the reeds, following the ancient trails known only to wolves and Hidden Ones. As he loped, he glimpsed them: silent, swaying. He ignored them, and they let him pass.

 

At last he reached the denning place, and suddenly everything was wrong wrong wrong. It stank of Viper-Tongue!

 

Wolf smelled that Tall Tailless had been here, and to his surprise, he also caught the scent of the pack-sister who smelled of ravens, and of the pale-pelted male who was their friend.
But they had fought!
Wolf smelled rage and pain and biting sorrow. He smelled Viper-Tongue's dreadful pleasure.

A breeze woke the birch trees, and in the distance, Wolf heard howls. The pack was singing its joy at having found a safe place for the cubs. Wolf lifted his muzzle to tell them he was coming back--but suddenly, he stopped.
A terrible certainty came to him. It hurt more than strong teeth tearing into his flank.
A wolf cannot be of two packs.

Wolf saw now that Tall Tailless couldn't be with the pack, because that wasn't what he was for. Fighting bad taillesses was what he was for, just as hunting demons was what Wolf was for.

 

Pain sank its teeth into Wolf's heart. Not for him to run with the pack and teach the cubs to play hunt-the-lemming. Tall Tailless had rescued him when he was little; and later, he had braved the Great Cold to save him from the bad taillesses. Tall Tailless was his pack-brother. A wolf cannot be of two packs. Something pecked Wolf's tail.

Wake up!
cawed the ravens. With a halfhearted snap, Wolf chased them away. The ravens perched on the rock, then flew to earth and stalked him again. Now that they'd found him, they weren't going to leave him alone. They were right. Swallowing his sorrow, Wolf cast about, untangling the scent trails. He soon found that of Tall Tailless, and followed it into the Forest.

He hadn't gone far before he reached the Big Wet. He smelled fish-dog and pine-blood and the pale-pelted tailless. He sat on the shore and whined. Tall Tailless had gone with the pale-pelt in the floating hide. Those floating hides were Not-Breath--Wolf knew that because he'd chewed one once--and yet they swam faster than a blackfish. It would be useless to swim after

268 Tall Tailless. He was gone. Again Wolf cast about for scents. He caught that of the pack-sister.
Yes.
Now he knew what to do! Once he'd found the pack-sister, he would find his pack-brother. They wouldn't stay apart for long. 269

THIRTY-THREE

Renn didn't care which way she ran. The dark . pines watched her impassively, but the junipers snagged her clothes, telling her to slow down. She ran on. Torak's voice echoed in her mind.
Get away from me-- I never want to see you again!
The look on his face ... Retreating into himself, like a wolf licking its wounds. She had done that to him. It was her fault. The sound of a waterfall broke through to her, and she found herself at a narrow stretch of reeds backed by a looming cliff-face.
Her fists clenched. Somewhere up there was the
270
woman who had ruined her father's life and overshadowed her own; who had burdened her with unwanted powers and robbed her of the only friend she'd ever had.

Leaping from tussock to tussock, she made her way to the foot of the cliff and stood, craning her neck. She could climb up and confront the Viper Mage, but that might be just what she wanted. She could set some kind of trap and capture her alive--or dead---she didn't care which.

With a cry, she turned and ran.
She found a trail which tracked the north shore. She hadn't gone fat before she felt eyes on her and spun around.
"Bale?" she whispered. "Torak?"
No one. No one was coming after her. She was back where she'd been before Torak. Friendless.

At last she reached a little bay that glowed dark blue in the summer night. Driftwood lay in piles, bleached silver by wind and rain. At the head of the bay, three posts stood guard. They had misshapen clay heads, and their white eyes stared over the Lake. Renn caught the faint, high whine of their power and clutched her clancreature feathers. She edged behind them, so as not to be seen.

At the eastern end of the bay, screened from the posts by pines, she found a small deerhide boat
271
tethered in the shallows. Maybe it belonged to the Viper Mage. She didn't care.

Quickly she unlashed the mooring and jumped in. The boat lurched, but she dug in the paddle and headed off. She had no idea where she was going; she just needed to be on the move.