Spirit of the Wolves by Dorothy Hearst Page A

woman, too.
    TaLi nodded. She pulled his head down to hers and told him what had happened since he’d left the valley. His face grew grimmer and grimmer.
    â€œI never would have left if I’d known DavRian was so dangerous,” he whispered. “And it won’t help things here.” He started to say more, but a female human came forward.
    â€œYou’ve had a long journey,” she said. “Would you like something to eat?”
    At the word eat I looked up. Ázzuen’s stomach growled. Marra yipped, and the woman laughed.
    They brought us more food than I had ever been given by a human. It was older elk meat and not cooked in the fire. I had grown used to the humans’ firemeat, but the rich elk was so good, I gulped it down and then ate more. Ázzuen and Marra ate as voraciously as I did, and Tlitoo darted in to grab scraps. I licked my muzzle to get the last of the meat from my face.
    â€œThey were hungry,” TaLi said, apologetically, and I realized how quickly we had bolted the food.
    The faint scent of wolf blew through the pines. It wasn’t Lallna or the other Sentinels, but it was familiar. The wolf was too far away to cause us trouble, but something about it tugged at me. Something made me desperate to follow it.
    TaLi was safely delivered to the humans and gazing up at BreLan. I could leave her for a little while. The strange wolf scent pulled me as strongly as my love for TaLi did. I nosed Ázzuen’s cheek. “Watch over TaLi for me,” I said, and began to slip as unobtrusively as I could out of the little village.
    â€œCome back here, youngwolf,” an imperious voice rang out. I stopped, one forepaw raised. Ordinarily I would havekept going, so strong was the pull of the scent, but the leaderwolf authority in the voice made me pause. And I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. It seemed to come from the sky. My paw still raised, I looked over my shoulder.
    Perched like a raven in a pine tree above the fire pit was the old human male who had first greeted us. Tlitoo flew to land beside the old man on a sturdy branch, cocking his head back and forth and quorking curiously at him. I’d seen TaLi and the other young humans clamber about in the trees—it was one of the things I envied about their long limbs and nimble hands—but never one so old. The old humans I had seen were less agile.
    The old man slid down so that he was hanging from his arms and his feet touched a lower branch. He then hung from that branch and dropped to the ground, landing next to TaLi as gracefully as if he really did have wings.
    â€œI am so sorry to hear of your grandmother’s death,” he said to TaLi, placing a gnarled hand on her head. “I knew NiaLi when she was a young woman, and she has done more for us than any other krianans I know. She told me that you were the one who would take her place when she was gone.”
    â€œI’ll try,” TaLi said softly.
    â€œCan you speak to your wolves?” the old man asked, his voice sharp in spite of his smile.
    â€œNo,” TaLi said, ashamed. “I could when I was little, but then I forgot. Silvermoon, I mean Kaala, and I were trying to learn Oldspeak, but then Grandmother died.” Oldspeak was the ancient language all creatures once spoke. I knew more about it than TaLi did, but not enough.
    The old man’s cheerful expression faltered just a bit. “So Iam the last one,” he said so softly I wasn’t sure the other humans could hear him. He raised his voice. “NiaLi was able to speak to them and we hoped you would as well. Did you try to learn, wolf?” he asked me.
    Startled to be addressed, I answered without thinking. “Yes,” I said. “But we didn’t have time.”
    â€œAnd we don’t have time now,” he said. His eyes crinkled at my surprise. “I can understand you, even if your girl cannot. You and TaLi will have to