Ghost Hunter by Michelle Paver, Geoff Taylor Page A

had saved him, and now he was out there alone. Against the tokoroth.

    The demon disappeared into a thicket, and Wolf lost the scent. Shaking himself in disgust, he turned and trotted back to the Den.

    The Bright Hard Cold bit his pads, and he was extremely hungry and weak; but he felt better than he had since the owl attacked, and he held his tail high. He

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    had saved his pack-brother from the demon. This was what he was for.

    As he neared the Den, the ravens swooped and croaked at him, and he made a feeble play-leap to chase them away. The ravens were with the pack, but not of it; they had to be kept in their place.

    The pack-sister came out of the Den and said something surprised in tailless talk. Then she ducked inside and came out again, with her forepaws full of those small, flat salmon that didn't have any eyes. Wolf gulped the lot, and felt much better. He was licking the last bits off her paws when Tall Tailless came out of the Den. Tall Tailless saw Wolf and went still. Wolf gave a whimper and threw himself at his pack-brother, and they rolled, whining and rubbing their noses in each other's delicious scent.

    The Hot Bright Eye rose in the Up, splashing the Forest with light, and Wolf felt that this was good. Darkfur and the cubs were gone, and he would miss them always; but he understood now that he couldn't be with them. Tall Tailless and the pack-sister were part of the pack, too, and they needed him.

    A wolf does not abandon his pack.

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    [Image: Wolf cub.]

    THIRTEEN

    The wolf cub did not at all understand what was going on.

    How had he got to this empty hillside so far from the resting place? And where was the pack?

    He remembered the ravens cawing, and the terrible owl attacking his mother. He'd watched them fighting from under the juniper bush: his mother leaping and snapping, the great owl lashing out with its claws. Then his mother wasn't there anymore, and his father was fighting the owl, and Tall Tailless was barking at the cub to stay, but he couldn't. He fled, and suddenly claws were biting his

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    flanks and he couldn't feel the ground, he was flying.

    He'd wriggled and whined, but nobody heard him. His father and Tall Tailless shrank to dots as the terrible owl carried him higher. Even the ravens dropped behind. Then there was no more Forest, only empty whiteness speckled with sticks that looked like trees.

    The cub had whimpered in terror.

    The owl flew for an endless time. Next thing, the cub woke to angry caws, and the ravens were diving out of the Up. They were mobbing the owl, who was twisting and swerving. The cub tried to bite its legs, but he couldn't reach. Again and again the ravens attacked. Suddenly the owl let go and the cub was falling.

    He plopped into the Bright Soft Cold and lay shaking, too frightened to move.

    When nothing happened, he struggled upright and poked out his head.

    The terrible owl was gone.

    So was everything else. No ravens. No Forest. No wolves. Only the wind and the white.

    Digging himself out of the Bright Soft Cold, the cub floundered uphill to sniff the smells, as he'd seen his father do. His flanks hurt and his legs shook. He was hungry and very, very scared. He put up his muzzle and howled.

    Nobody came.

    ***

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    The cub had eaten some of the Bright Soft Cold, but though it filled him up a bit, it didn't chase away the hunger.

    Wearily, he padded along the hillside. The wind had dropped and the Dark was coming. His claws felt strangely tight, and he sensed that everything--the hill, the Bright Soft Cold, even the Up--was waiting: for something bad.

    He came to a clump of small, twisted willows that clung to the slope. They reminded him of the resting place, so he decided to stay close.

    Nosing around, he found what seemed to be a Den. From it came an interesting smell that he couldn't remember.

    Just then, something hit him on the nose. With a yelp, he sprang back--and something hit him on the rump. Now it was pelting him all