Chronicles of Ancient Darkness Read online

  ‘Arguing won’t help us find Wolf,’ she said. ‘I think we need to tell them about the Eye of the Viper –’

  ‘Well I don’t.’

  ‘But if they knew, they might help.’

  ‘They don’t want to help. They want to get rid of us.’

  ‘Torak, these are good people.’

  He turned on her. ‘Good people can smile, and be rotten inside! I know, I’ve seen it!’

  She stared at him.

  ‘I can’t lose him again,’ he said. ‘It’s different for you. You’ve got Fin-Kedinn and the rest of your clan. I’ve only got Wolf.’

  Renn blinked. ‘You’ve got me too.’

  ‘That’s not the same.’

  She felt the heat rising to her ears. ‘Sometimes,’ she said, ‘I wonder why I even like you!’

  At that moment, a stout woman called her to come and try on her new clothes – and she left without a backwards glance.

  His words were ringing in her ears as she crawled through a tunnel into a smaller shelter where four women sat sewing. It’s different for you. No it isn’t! she wanted to shout. Don’t you know that you and Wolf are the first friends I’ve ever had?

  ‘Sit by me,’ said the woman, whose name was Tanugeak,

  ‘and calm down.’

  Renn threw herself onto a reindeer skin and started plucking out hairs.

  ‘Anger,’ Tanugeak said mildly, ‘is a form of madness. And a waste of strength.’

  ‘But sometimes you need it,’ muttered Renn.

  Tanugeak chuckled. ‘You’re just like your uncle! He was angry too, when he was young.’

  Renn sat up. ‘You know Fin-Kedinn?’

  ‘He came here many summers ago.’

  ‘Why? How did you meet him?’

  Tanugeak patted her hand. ‘You’ll have to ask him.’

  Renn sighed. She missed her uncle terribly. He would know what to do.

  ‘These visions of yours,’ said Tanugeak, examining Renn’s wrist. ‘They can be dangerous, you should have lightning marks for protection. I’m surprised your Mage hasn’t seen to that.’

  ‘She wanted to,’ said Renn, ‘but I never let her.’

  ‘Let me. I’m a Mage too. And you’ll need them, I think. You carry a lot of secrets.’ Turning to a woman who sat apart from the others, she asked for her tattooing things. Then, without giving Renn time to protest, she laid her forearm on her ample lap, stretched the skin taut, and began swiftly pricking it with a bone needle, pausing to dip a scrap of gull hide in a cup of black dye, and rub it into the punctures.

  It hurt at first, but Tanugeak kept up a stream of stories to keep Renn’s mind off it. Soon her anger slipped away, leaving only the worry that Torak might do something stupid, like trying to escape without her.

  She felt safe in here. On the sleeping-platform, three children slept in a heap, like puppies. Over the blubber lamp, a baby dangled in a seal’s bladder snugly stuffed with moss. The women chatted and laughed, spangling the air with specks of frozen breath; only the one who sat apart, Akoomik, kept silent.

  As the drowsy peace stole over her, Renn felt cared for in a way she’d never experienced before: as if the prickly shell she’d grown to protect herself were being gently peeled away.

  Tanugeak started on the other wrist, and the women laid out Renn’s new clothes, stroking them with weathered brown hands.

  There were outer leggings and a parka of shimmering silver sealskin, to which someone had sewn her clan-creature feathers. There was a warm jerkin and inner leggings of eider duck hide, with the soft feathers worn against the skin. There were under-mittens of hare fur, and sturdy outer mittens; ptarmigan-down slippers, to be worn over fluffy stockings made from the pelts of young seals. And to keep out the wet, there were magnificent boots of dehaired seal-hide, with criss-cross bindings of braided sinew, and finely pleated soles.

  ‘Beautiful,’ murmured Renn. ‘But I’ve nothing to give you in return.’

  The women looked astonished, then laughed. ‘We don’t want anything in return!’ said one.

  ‘Come back in the Dark Time,’ said another, ‘and we’ll make you a set of winter clothes. These are just for spring!’

  Akoomik didn’t join in the laughter as she packed her needles in a little bone case. Renn noticed tiny toothmarks on it, and asked who’d made them.

  ‘My baby,’ replied Akoomik. ‘When he was teething.’

  Renn smiled. ‘Is he over the worst?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Akoomik in a voice that made Renn shiver. ‘That’s him over there.’ She pointed to a ledge cut in the wall, on which lay a small, stiff bundle wrapped in hide.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Renn. She was scared, too. In the Forest, the clans carried their Dead far from their shelters, so that their souls couldn’t trouble the living.

  ‘We keep our Dead with us till spring,’ said Akoomik, ‘to save them from the foxes.’

  ‘And to stop them feeling left out,’ Tanugeak added comfortably. ‘They like chatting just as much as we do. When you see a star travelling very fast, that’s one of them setting off to visit their friends.’

  Renn found that a comforting thought; but Akoomik pinched the bridge of her nose to hold back her grief. ‘The demons took his breath a moon ago. Now they’ve taken my elder son, too.’

  Renn remembered what Inuktiluk had said about the boy lost on the ice.

  ‘My mate died of fever in the Moon of Long Dark,’ Akoomik went on. ‘Then my mother felt death coming, and went out to meet it, so that she wouldn’t take food from the young ones. If my son doesn’t return, I’ll have no-one.’ Her eyes were dull: as if a light had gone out. Renn had seen that before, in people whose souls were sick.

  If I lose Wolf, I’ll have no-one.

  At last she understood what Torak had meant. His mother had died when he was born. He’d lost his father to the bear. He’d never even met the rest of his clan. He was more alone than anyone she knew. And although she too had lost people, she realized that with Torak, as with Akoomik, the grief was still raw. If he lost Wolf . . .

  Once again, she wondered how she could bring herself to tell him what she suspected.

  ‘Finished,’ said Tanugeak, making her jump.

  Renn studied the neat black zigzags on the inside of her wrists. They made her feel stronger, better protected. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Now I need to find my friend.’

  ‘First, take this.’ Tanugeak gave her a small pouch made from the scaly skin of swans’ feet, with the claws left on.

  ‘What’s in it?’ asked Renn.

  ‘Things you might need.’ She leaned closer. ‘Listen well,’ she said under her breath. ‘The elders saw something else in the sky that night. We’re not sure what it means, but I have a feeling you might know.’ She paused. ‘It was a three-pronged fork, of the kind a healer might use for catching the souls of the sick. But this one felt bad.’

  Renn’s fingers tightened on the pouch.

  ‘Ah,’ said Tanugeak, ‘I see that you’ve been dreading this.’ She touched Renn’s hand. ‘Go. Find your friend. When the time is right, tell him the secrets you carry.’

  When Renn got back to the main shelter, the White Foxes had settled down for the night. Most slept huddled together, while a few sat softening sinew between their teeth, or flexing stiff boots to make them wearable for the morning. Torak was fast asleep at one end of the sleeping-platform.

  Renn got into her sleeping-sack, wondering what to do. The White Fox vision had confirmed the fear she’d been harbouring for days. The Soul-Eaters had taken Wolf.

  She dreaded telling Torak. How much more could he bear?

  She was woken by Inuktiluk shaking her shoulder.

  Everyone else was asleep, but through a chink in the shelter she saw that the moon was low: it would be dawn soon. Torak was gone.

  She shot upright.

  ‘He’s waiting outside,’ mouthed Inuktiluk. ‘Follow me!’

  Quietly they made their way
into the smaller shelter, where Renn exchanged her old clothes for the unfamiliar new ones.

  The night air cut like a knife, but there was no wind. The snow glinted in the faint glow of the dying moon. The crust had frozen, so they had to tread carefully. A few dogs stirred, caught their scent, then slumped down again.

  Torak was waiting. Like Renn, he had new clothes: she hardly recognized him in his silvery parka. ‘They’re helping us get away!’ he whispered, his eyes glinting with excitement.

  ‘Who’s they?’ hissed Renn. ‘And why?’

  Inuktiluk had vanished into the dark, and it was Torak who answered. ‘I told him everything. You were right, they do know about the Eye of the Viper! And there’s a woman – Akoomik? She’s going to tell us where it is!’

  Renn was astonished. ‘But – I thought you didn’t trust them. What changed your mind?’

  ‘You did.’ He gave her one of his rare, wolfish grins. ‘I do listen to you sometimes.’

  Inuktiluk was beckoning, so they followed him west till they came to a rent in the ice. Renn saw the dark gleam of water, and caught the tang of the Sea.

  They tracked the channel as it steadily broadened, then Torak touched her arm. ‘Look.’

  She gasped. ‘A skinboat!’

  It was ten paces long, sturdily built of dehaired seal-hide stretched over a whalebone frame. Their packs were neatly stowed at either end, and two double-bladed paddles lay on top.

  ‘This channel leads to the open Sea,’ said Inuktiluk. ‘Once you reach it, keep the land in sight, but stay clear of the mouth of the ice river.’

  ‘You told us that no-one had ever crossed it,’ said Torak.

  The round face split in a grin. ‘But plenty have paddled around it!’ Then his grin faded. ‘Watch out for black ice. It’s denser than white, and it’ll sink you in moments. If you see a piece in the water, you’ve already passed several that you missed.’

  Renn wondered how they were going to spot black ice in a black Sea.

  Torak was hefting his paddle, keen to make a start. ‘How do we find the Eye of the Viper?’

  Akoomik emerged from the shadows, and with her knife began carving marks in the snow. ‘Follow the North Star past the ice river,’ she said, ‘about a day’s paddling from here. When you see a mountain shaped like three ravens perched on an ice floe, put in at the frozen bay below it, and head up the ridge that curls round its north-west flank.’

  ‘But what is it?’ said Renn. ‘How will we know we’ve found it?’

  Both White Foxes shivered, and made the sign of the hand. ‘You’ll know,’ said Akoomik.

  ‘And may the guardian save you,’ said Inuktiluk, ‘if you venture inside.’ He helped them into the skinboat.

  Torak handled his paddle confidently, but Renn was uneasy. She hadn’t had as much practice in boats. ‘Why are you helping us?’ she asked the White Foxes.

  ‘The elders don’t know you as I do,’ said Inuktiluk. ‘When I explain, they won’t be angry. Besides,’ he added, ‘if I don’t help you, you’ll go anyway!’

  Akoomik peered into Torak’s face. ‘You’ve lost someone. So have I. If you find what you seek, maybe I will too.’

  Torak thought for a moment, then rummaged in his pack, and pressed something into her mittens. ‘Take these.’

  She frowned. ‘What are they?’

  ‘Boar tusks. I’d forgotten I had them; but they’re special. They belonged to a friend of mine. Offer them to the wind. For both of us.’

  Inuktiluk grunted in approval, and Akoomik’s white teeth showed in the first smile Renn had seen her give. ‘Thank you! May the guardian run with you!’

  ‘And also with you!’ whispered Renn.

  Then they were off, slicing through the black water and heading for the open Sea, to find Wolf.

  FOURTEEN

  The stranger wolves were howling many lopes away, and as Wolf listened, he felt the bite of loneliness.

  He heard that it was a big pack, and that each wolf was cleverly varying its howls to make it sound as if there were even more of them. Wolf knew that trick; he’d learned it when he’d run with the pack on the Mountain.

  In his head he saw the wolves lifting their muzzles joyfully to the Bright White Eye. He longed to howl back. But he was squashed beneath the hated deerhide. Howling was only a memory.

  The sliding tree lurched as the taillesses crested a ridge. Wolf forced himself to stay alert, to be ready for when his pack-brother came. But it was getting harder. Thirst scratched his throat. Pain gnawed his tail. When they’d been on the Great Wet in the terrible floating hides, he’d been sick. His belly still hurt.

  The other creatures were feeling no better. The otter had fallen into despairing silence, although Wolf smelt that she wasn’t yet Not-Breath. The lynx and fox – whom Pale-Pelt had caught and crammed onto another sliding tree – hadn’t yowled since the Light. Only the wolverine gave the occasional furious snarl.

  The stranger pack ended its howl, and the white hills sang with silence. Wolf knew that now the wolves would be licking and snuffling each other in readiness for the hunt. Before he and Tall Tailless went hunting, they always snuffle-licked and touched noses, although of course only Wolf wagged his tail.

  The sliding tree turned into the wind, and he smelt mountains drawing near. He sensed a shiver of excitement run through the taillesses, and guessed they were reaching the end of their long lope.

  Stinkfur came to trot beside him, and thrust a chunk of the Bright Soft Cold through the deerhide. Awkwardly, Wolf took it in his cramped jaws, and crunched it up. He no longer had the will to refuse what he was given.

  Up ahead, Pale-Pelt spoke to Viper-Tongue, and they glanced at him and broke into the yip-and-yowl of tailless laughter. Rage bit his belly. In his head he burst free of the deerhide and leapt at Pale-Pelt, tearing out his throat so that the hot blood gushed . . .

  But only in his head. He was getting weaker. Even if he could break free, he wouldn’t have the strength to bring down Pale-Pelt. He worried that when Tall Tailless and his pack-sister finally came, he would be too weak to fight alongside them.

  As the Light fled, a mountain loomed. The wind dropped. Wolf smelt that there was little prey here, and no wolves. His pelt crawled with dread.

  The sliding tree juddered to a halt.

  There, against the flank of the mountain: a Bright Beast-that-Bites-Hot was snarling, and beside it – silent, unmoving – waited the Stone-Faced One.

  She stood with her forepaws clenched at her sides, and Wolf sensed that in one she held the grey, glowing thing that bit cold. She was very still, and yet her shadow on the mountainflank leapt like tattered wings.

  Wolf hadn’t seen or smelt her since the time when she’d come through the hissing whiteness. Now, one glimpse of her terrible face made him a whimpering cub again.

  In silence the other taillesses left the sliding trees, and went to join her. They were fearful, but as before, they hid their fear from each other.

  The Stone-Faced One spoke in her rattling voice, and the whole pack crouched around the Bright Beast-that-Bites-Hot, and began to rock back and forth. Back and forth, back and forth. Watching them made Wolf dizzy, but he couldn’t look away. Then they started a low, steady growling that thudded through Wolf like the hooves of reindeer galloping over hard ground. On and on it went, faster, louder, till his heart beat painfully in his chest.

  And now from the mountain came a smell of Dark and demons, flowing over him like an unseen Fast Wet.

  Suddenly Stone-Face raised her forepaw – the paw in which she held the grey thing that bit cold. Then – as Wolf watched in amazement – she thrust her paw right into the jaws of the Bright Beast!

  Frozen with horror, he watched Stinkfur thrust in her forepaw, then Pale-Pelt, then Viper-Tongue. He watched them rocking back and forth, still growling that fast, stony growl, with their paws sunk deep in the crackling jaws of the Bright Beast.

  All at once they gave a triumphant howl – and
wrenched their paws out again.

  Wolf could not believe what he was smelling! Their forepaws didn’t stink of meat that has been bitten by the Bright Beast! They smelt cool and fresh! What were these taillesses, whom even the Bright Beast feared to bite?

  Terror crushed Wolf: terror not only for himself but for his pack-brother.

  Tall Tailless and the female were clever and brave, and they had Long Claws-that-Fly-Far. But if they attacked these strange, bad taillesses, they would be torn to pieces.

  FIFTEEN

  ‘What’s that in the water?’ hissed Renn.

  ‘A seal,’ said Torak over his shoulder.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘– No.’

  ‘It looked like an ice bear.’

  ‘If it was an ice bear, we’d know it by now.’

  But she had seen it. A great pale shape sliding through the dark water under the skinboat.

  ‘Inuktiluk told me there are white whales,’ said Torak. ‘Maybe that’s what you saw.’

  To Renn’s annoyance, he didn’t seem frightened. But he was a better skinboater, and too intent on finding Wolf to be scared.

  The swell lifted the boat and she dug in her paddle, trying not to think what lay beneath. The Sea Mother could drown them with one flick of her fin. Down they would sink into the bottomless black, their mouths open in a scream that had no end; and when the fishes had nibbled their bones bare, the Hidden People would roll them forever in their long green hair . . .

  ‘Watch out,’ said Torak, ‘you’re splashing me.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  Her arms ached, and despite her owl-eyed visor, her head was pounding from the glare. They’d reached the open Sea shortly after dawn, and were now in an eerie world of dark-green water and drifting blue ice mountains. To the east stretched the white expanse of the shore; to the north, the vast, shattered chaos of the ice river.

  ‘Too slow,’ muttered Torak. Picking up speed, he steered them behind a floating mountain.

  ‘I don’t think we should get so close,’ said Renn.