Wolves of the Beyond: Watch Wolf (5 page)

AS THE TWO WOLVES TRAVELED,
the cones of the volcanoes became clearer and clearer, and they could see that at least three of the five volcanoes were erupting. More and more owls scored the sky. The rims of the craters loomed in the distance like ragged crowns, and from them, towering flames leaped up, raking the pale lavender of the twilight sky.

Faolan and Edme could just make out the cairns of bones on which the wolves of the Watch perched, vigilant against intruders.

“Can you believe it, Faolan?” Edme said as they drew close enough to see the wolves leaping into the air, sometimes twisting and flipping themselves about in ways they had never seen wolves move before. “Can you believe that we shall soon be there?” Edme paused. “And we’re not
malcadhs
anymore! We’re true gnaw wolves of the Watch!” Her voice was filled with wonder.

Faolan felt a shiver deep in his marrow.
Members.
The very word seemed to glow with a noble luster. They were to serve, no longer objects of scorn but as vital sentinels of the Watch. It was their job to guard the Ember of Hoole, the very center of this universe of wolves and owls. For the Beyond to run smoothly, the ember must be kept safe where it lay in one of the five volcanoes at the Sacred Ring.

“The volcanoes have such odd names, don’t they?” Faolan said.

“H’rathghar, Kiel — I think those are owl names from the northern kingdoms,” Edme replied. “H’rathghar,” she repeated.

“Not H’rath … it’s more of a growl at the back of your throat,” Faolan said, correcting Edme’s pronunciation. He tipped his head back and emitted a throaty
hrrr
sound.

“How do you know all this?” Edme said. When Faolan growled, the volcano’s name sounded awfully authentic — not that she knew exactly what owl speech of the northern kingdoms sounded like.

Faolan shrugged. “I’m not sure.” He was truly confounded and could not figure out where these wisps of knowledge came from. It was as if they were borne on a
maverick river that coursed through his mind. Thunderheart had even told him that she had named him Faolan because “fao” was the word for both “wolf” and “river,” and “lan” was the word for “gift.” In this river that was his mind, Faolan sensed two currents — one from what he thought of as The Now and the other as The Then. The Now was easy to understand. It was The Then that perplexed him. Did all wolves have two currents in their minds?

“Let’s see … then there are three others — Dunmore, Morgan, and Stormfast. I’m glad there are just five to learn,” Edme said.

“Some of the names sound like wolf names,” Faolan offered.

“Yes, Morgan does, and so does Dunmore, but I’ve never met a wolf named Stormfast.” She paused. “Well, I guess we’re about to meet a volcano called Stormfast.”

A wind out of the east began to blow and b
oth wolves stopped suddenly. Their hackles rose as they tipped their noses into the breeze.

“That’s it, isn’t it? The smell of the volcanoes,” Faolan said.

“Not exactly pleasant. Reminds me of some rotten duck eggs I once met up with,” Edme said.

“Rotten duck eggs?” Faolan rep
eated and then murmured,
“Tine smyorfin.”

“There, you said it again!” Edme blurted.

“Said what?”

“That Old Wolf thing you said back by the river.”

“I didn’t say any Old Wolf thing. I just muttered, ‘by my marrow.’”

Edme tipped her head to one side and regarded her friend.
How odd,
she thought.
Faolan really doesn’t know when he’s saying these things. His mouth speaks in something that sounds like Old Wolf, but his ears hear it another way.

“Well, never mind. Let’s go,” she replied, trotting on.

As they drew nearer to the Ring, they began to see strange rock formations that rose writhing like solid smoke. These formations were called
yondos,
and two immense ones towered above the others.

“The Hot Gates!” they both exclaimed at once.

“The Fengo said stop
at
them.” The two wolves looked at each other, perplexed. A simple word such as “at” could have different interpretations. Edme, who had a very practical streak, cocked her head and regarded the two towering formations. “Well, he didn’t say ‘between’ them, and he didn’t say ‘beside’ them. So I would think we should just go right up to the base of one and stop there.”

Just then, two howls peeled off the tops of the Hot
Gates and two wolves began to scramble down them. Faolan and Edme were transfixed. The Hot Gates were so steep, they had no idea how the wolves could make such a spectacular descent without falling to their deaths.

“Great Lupus, will you look at that!” Edme cried as the two wolves took the last twenty-five feet in two dazzling leaps. They might as well have had wings. As they landed, they appeared to bounce gently for a few feet, then began trotting toward Faolan and Edme.

They have sent wolves to greet us that are our twins!
The thought streamed through both Faolan’s and Edme’s mind. For as the two wolves from the Watch came closer, Faolan recognized one as the wolf missing an eye whom he had seen at the
gaddergnaw
competition, and the other as the wolf with his front paw twisted backward.

Faolan and Edme sank to their knees and began the sequence of submission postures.

“Up! Up! Quickly,” the flip-pawed one urged. He was a brindled wolf with swirling patches of dark brown and tawny fur. “Much to learn!”

When they rose, the she-wolf spoke. “I am Winks, and this is my fellow
taiga,
Twist.”

“More properly Twistling, but Twist will do. I believe my paw speaks for my name.” The brindled wolf raised his flip paw into the air and waved it about.

Winks now continued, “We don’t indulge in excessive formality here. It takes up too much time
and there’s so much for you to learn.”

“But don’t let that fool you,” Twist said. “If you thought your life was tough as gnaw wolves, it will be tougher now.”

“Don’t frighten them, Twist,” Winks said.

“I don’t think these young’uns are easily fright
ened, Winks.” He turned to Faolan and Edme. “Follow
us and we’ll escort you to the Ring.”

The ring of volcanoes was smaller in circumference than Faolan and Edme had expected, although at press-paw speed, it would take almost half a day to complete the circle. They entered through the Dunmore-H’rathghar quadrant, named for the two volcanoes that dominated this section of the Ring. Between the two volcanoes were four large
drumlyns
of gnawed bones that rose to an impressive height. Atop each one, a gnaw wolf was perched, now and then shooting high into the air to perform jumps as spectacular as those they had witnessed from Twist and Winks. Faolan was known for his impressive le
aps, which he had learned while attempting to walk on his hind legs like Thunderheart. These wolves,
however, executed fantastic somersaults, twists, and turns in the air. Were they just showing off or was there some purpose to their staggering feats of agility? No sooner did the question come to Faolan’s mind than Twist answered it.

“I imagine you’re wondering about the aerial tumbling you see. The wolves are not showing off — although that’s not beyond them. They’re monitoring the plumes of ash and observing the cool glow of the embers.”

“Cool glow?” Edme said.

“It’s a term, one of many that you shall learn, that helps us understand the behavior of the volcanoes, their stages of eruption and so forth,” Winks replied. “Come along now.”

“It’s the new gnaw wolves!” one wolf cried out midair as he swung into a high arc, then tucked his hind legs in tightly and came down in a loop. “Welcome to the Ring!” he cried. A chorus of hullos rang out.

It was all so different from what Faolan and Edme had expected. In the Beyond, the wolves of the Watch were thought of as austere in their ways, aloof and not at all social with those outside their clans. But Edme and Faolan were being welcomed with great enthusiasm and in
the most cheerful manner.

AS THE TWO YOUNG WOLVES
entered the
gadderheal
of the Watch, the Fengo rose from a bed of pelts to greet them.

“Welcome to the Ring,” Finbar the Fengo said. “We wolves of the Watch serve as the highest governing wolf body in the Beyond. We decide territorial boundaries, settle clan disputes, and are the Supreme
Raghnaid,
the final court for amending and creating new laws. But our most important task is to guard the Ember of Hoole, which lies buried in one of the five volcanoes. If this powerful ember comes into the talons of a graymalkin owl, there is mortal danger for all species, from the wolves, owls, and caribou, down to the smallest rodent.”

The Fengo’s green eyes slitted as he
looked at the two young wolves. “Now the time has come for you to think
in a new way. You must learn to think like a wolf of the Watch.”

Edme shifted nervously on her feet and looked down.
But am I truly a wolf of the Watch if I was not born a
malcadh? She had felt so brave when she told the MacHeaths she would join the Watch as a free runner. Now she was too frightened to say anything.

The Fengo continued, “In protecting the ember from your posts on the
drumlyns,
it is important to realize that it’s not how high you jump that matters, but what you learn when you are jumping. What you see. What you feel. What you smell. Our focus is the five volcanoes. You shall learn their natural history — their temperaments.” He took a step closer to the two wolves. “We exist in a close relationship with the owls of Ga’Hoole. The connection goes back to the very beginnings of our time here in the Beyond. When the good King Hoole first discovered the ember, he made a pact with the wolves t
hat we guard it until an appointed king appeared to retrieve it.” He paused again. “There is much to learn, is there not?”

Faolan and Edme both nodded.

“Our late Fengo, Hamish, has set much of our history down on the Bone of Bones. I now present you w
ith it.” He turned to another Watch wolf, a silver wolf with no
ears who brought out the bone tucked under her chin and dropped it at their feet.

“Here, young’uns,” she said softly. The bone gleamed with Hamish’s careful incising, exquisitely elegant yet bold.

“B-b-but … b-but,” Edme stammered. “How do we know a graymalkin? Does it tell on the Bone of Bones?”

The Fengo and the silver wolf, who was named Colleen, both shook their heads. “There is much you can learn from the Bone of Bones, but mostly you’ll learn through experience,” the Fengo said. “The Bone does not tell you how to recognize a graymalkin. It is an instinct that you will develop, a sense that an owl is not merely looking for coals. Graymalkins spend a lot of their time flying low around the edges of the craters, making false passes over the ember beds that spill down the slopes.”

“But how can you tell the difference between a false pass and a true one?” Faolan asked.

“Your
taigas
will school you in this. They are your greatest resource.” He nodded at Twist and Winks.

But do I deserve a
taiga? thought Edme.
How will they treat me if they know the truth? I have to tell them. I have to!

The Fengo continued, “Twist and Winks here are ready to answer your questions. You shall begin your
service at the cairns of their present assignments. You will
be shown to your den now. A busy time is coming. Do you have any questions?”

Edme gave Faolan a nervous glance. He nodded just slightly. She knew that the time had come for her to tell the Fengo the truth — how she was not a true
malcadh
but was made one by the depravity of the MacHeath clan. She took a step forward, holding her head high and squinting with her single eye so she could better keep the Fengo in focus. She did not want to appear to be cowering in fear or shame. She would be honest and dignified as she told the horrible truth.

“Honorable Fengo, I learned much on my
Slaan Leat.
As you told us when we set out, it was a journey toward truth. In the course of my journey, I discovered a terrible secret.”

The Fengo cocked his head; his eyes remained unblinking. Edme felt their penetrating gaze. “Go on,” he said. A new severity had crept into his voice.

“I am not a true
malcadh.”

There was a sharp inhalation of breath. “What are you saying?” the Fengo asked.

“I was born normal and then was disfigured. My eye was torn out.” She wanted to tell the Feng
o so much more. She wanted to tell him that the scar Dunbar MacHeath
bore, that ragged line raking across his face, was caused by her mother, Akira. She wanted to tell him about Ingliss and Kyran. But she knew she must get to the point. “I come here not as a representative of the MacHeath clan, but as a free runner. I represent no one except myself.” Edme looked down at her front paws. She could not bear to meet the Fengo’s eyes.

“Look at me, Edme,” he said sharply. And when she finally looked up, she did not see anger on Finbar’s face, only sadness. “It was the MacHeaths who did this to you?”

“It was Dunbar,” Edme answered.

The Fengo sighed deeply before speaking. “There have been rumors of this in the past. Now you have confirmed our worst suspicions. These MacHeaths are not true clan wolves. They deserve no place in the Beyond. As Fengo of the Watch, I invoke the privilege accorded only to myself as chieftain of the Supreme
Raghnaid
to call together a Court of
Crait.”

There was a gasp from the wolves. Never in living memory had such a court been called. If the MacHeaths were judged
crait,
the entire clan would be cast out of the Beyond. From that moment, they would be outclanners.

It felt as if all the air had suddenly been sucked out of the den. Edme staggered slightly, then dropped her tail, tucked it flat between her legs, and began to turn away.

“Where are you going?” the Fengo asked. But she hardly heard him. “Edme, halt! I asked, where are you going?”

She stopped and turned. An immense tear began to shimmer in her single eye. “The clan I came from is to be judged. I’m not welcome here.”

“What absolute nonsense, my dear,” the Fengo said.

Then another wolf stepped forward. She was a red wolf also missing one eye. Edme had seen her at the
gaddergnaw
and then again as they entered the Fengo’s den.

“Pardon me, honorable Fengo.”

“Yes, Banja. You have something to say?”

“I only want to suggest that we not be hasty in our decisions. By her own confession, Edme is a
malcadh
made. So perhaps it is not quite appropriate that … that …”

“That what?” The Fengo’s voice had taken on a frightening edge.

“That she serve in the same capacity as the rest of us. Perhaps it would be advisable that she continue in her gnaw wolf status for a while, at least.”

The Fengo stalked forward on stiff legs, his tail high,
his teeth bared. “Banja, you have become as prickly as a burr. There is no purpose to be served in this youngster continuing as a gnaw wolf. She must train to become a wolf of the Watch. Do I have to invoke the privilege of the Sayer to discipline a Watch wolf? I have never used it before — please do not tempt me now!”

Faolan and Edme watched as Banja seemed to shrink in her own pelt. She backed away, her single eye that only a second before glittered now seemed dull as a dry stone.

The Fengo turned his back to Banja, who was slinking into the shadows at the rear of the
gadderheal.
“Edme, you are not
crait.
You did not do this to yourself. It was the clan, led by its chieftain, that did this to you. By calling them for a Court of
Crait,
we ensure that they will never again maim a wolf to make a
malcadh.
If they are found guilty, they will have no say in any councils held in the
gadderheals
of the Beyond. Let them destroy themselves. But you, Edme, represent no one except yourself. You have an amazing ability to carve bones. You performed beyond expectation in the
byrrgis
at the
gaddergnaw
when you plunged in for the kill rush.” He glanced briefly at Faolan, who cringed at the memory of his lapse of attention at that crucial moment.

Edme,
he thought,
deserves to serve in the Watch more than I. She made no mistakes during the entire competition.
Faolan had simply excelled in carving, which seemed to have made up for his errors on the
byrrgis.

“So I say to you, Edme, you are a true Watch wolf despite the deceit of the MacHeath clan. You are a loyal wolf despite their faithless desecration of our most sacred laws. You shall serve with honor and dignity despite having been raised in a clan marked by dishonor and disgrace. We welcome you as a free runner.” Edme felt her marrow trembling. The huge tear that had welled in her ey
e now ran down her face.

The Fengo paused and looked at Faolan. “We welcome you as a free runner, Edme, and you, Faolan, as the best of your clan. Now Twist and Winks will lead you to your den. At the first phase of the newing, your training will begin.”

“Newing?” Edme whispered as they followed Twist and Winks. “What’s that?”

“It’s an owl word for the new moon. They call it
dwenking
when it begins to fade,” Faolan replied.

“Where did you learn so much Hoolian?” Edme asked.

“From Gwynneth — she’s a Rogue smith.” Rogue smiths were owls who worked metal but lived apart from other owls.

Twist overheard them. “Ah! Gwynneth. She’ll be coming soon. It is getting to be the season of Morgan and Stormfast. The Rogue smiths particularly love the embers from these two volcanoes. And when the She-Winds blow, both volcanoes begin their most violent eruptions at the same time. It seems like every Rogue smith and Rogue collier throughout the Hoolian kingdoms descends upon us. Oh, what a time it is! But now here is your den. Your training begins shortly, so get some rest.”

“Look at this,” Faolan marveled as they slid down a steep passage into the den. “They’ve even given us pelts. I’ve never slept on a pelt of my own. I only got the discarded ones from my pack after pups had wet them so often they stank.”

“Me never!” Edme said. “Even ones soiled by pups were too good for me.”

They each circled their pelts three times as was the custom with most wolves before settling down for a sleep. The pelts were caribou — winter caribou, so they we
re all the thicker.

“Edme,” Faolan said. “I think I’m too excited to sleep.”

“Me, too, but we should try.”

“Yes, let’s try,” Faolan replied.

They were silent for a while. Then Faolan piped up again. “Edme, are you asleep yet?” He waited. “Edme? Are you sleeping?”

“Well, I was until you asked me.” She yawned.

“Oh, sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Edme replied. “What is it?”

“I think what you did back there in the Fengo’s den, what you said — you know, the truth about yourself. It was very brave of you.”

“Thank you, Faolan.”
You woke me up to tell me I was brave?

They both nestled deeper into their caribou pelts.

“They smell so good, don’t they? No pup pee,” Faolan said.

“Yep, no pup pee.”

Just as Edme was drifting off once again,
Faolan said, “You’re not asleep yet, are you, Edme?”

“Almost,” she huffed.

“I just want to say one more thing.”

“Yes, what’s that?”

“You really do deserve to be here — much more than I do. I mean, you made the kill rush.”

Edme’s hackles raised. “Faolan, that is just plain
stupid. I have never heard anything more
cag mag
in my life. You have proven yourself time and time again. Now, kindly let me sleep.”

But still he could not sleep. So he turned to the Bone of Bones. It was not easy to read in the darkness of the cave, but he soon found that certain sections had been carved deeper, and if he ran his tongue over them he could feel the inscription. One section in particular had been carved very deeply as if for extra emphasis. His marrow trembled as he began to read a passage.

There has been a bond between the wolves and the grizzlies in the region of the sacred volcanoes that is vitally important. It is the reason why two species of animals — the top meat eaters of the region — can live peacefully together. Nowhere else in the Beyond do wolves and bears live in such close harmony. But let it be known that there are certain customs that are practiced between ourselves and the bears of the Beyond to ensure that we will always live harmoniously with one another in this small realm within the larger one of the Beyond. One of the most important rules of behavior is t
hat a wolf must never touch the cub of a grizzly, for there is no telling what bloody havoc might ensue, the least of which would be the death of that single wolf.

There are other practices followed that also ensure that the grizzlies and the wolves of the Watch will continue. Good relations between ourselves and the bears is essential because our range for hunting is limited; therefore we must live together peaceably.

“Urskadamus,”
Faolan muttered the bear curse he had heard Thunderheart use was she was deeply irritated. His curse had awakened Edme.

“What are you doing?”

“Reading the Bone of Bones.”

“In this light?”

“The bone is carved deeply. I can feel it with my tongue.” There was utter anguish in Faolan’s voice.

“Faolan, what is it?”

He looked up at Edme.
Does she know how close she came to being killed?

“Did you touch the cub?” Faolan whispered.

“I don’t think so.” Her voice was taut with fear.