Watch Wolf

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 helooked at the two young wolves. “Now the time has come for you to thinkin 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 that 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 with it.” He turned to another Watch wolf, a silver wolf with noears 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 yourservice at the cairns of their present assignments. You willbe 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 Fengo so much more. She wanted to tell him that the scar Dunbar MacHeathbore, 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