Watch Wolf

at least not in Katria’s lifetime. But now the chieftain, his highest lieutenant, her own mate, and two of the best scouts were heading out of the MacHeath territory to look for a bear cub. The time to go was now!
    She would leave in broad daylight as if she were going to hunt for small prey — rodents or marmots. Her trail would take her north and east, toward a peninsula jutting out into the Hoolemere Sea.
    Over the centuries, a secret language had evolved among the abused females of the MacHeath clan. In Old Wolf, this language was called
banuil caint,
which roughly translated to “she-wolf talk.” There had been whispers about it for centuries. But it remained a mystery how the abused females learned
banuil caint.
The language was said to have been invented by Hordweard, the founder of the MacNamara clan. Hordweard had lived a thousand years before, in the time of the first embered monarch, King Hoole. When she escaped the MacHeath clan, her mate, the chieftain Dunleavy MacHeath, had tried to follow her. Near Broken Talon Point, she had slain him.
    Hordweard went on toform her own clan andbecame known as Namara, which in the OldWolf language meant “maker of strong spirits.” It was said that ever sincethe clan was founded, secret agents of the MacNamaras left bones with Hordweard’s hidden language gnawed into them in MacHeath territory, to embolden the she-wolves who wanted to flee.
    Katria had found a
banuil caint
bone shortly after she gave birth to her first litter. She didn’t really understand it but somehow sensed that this bone was meant for her. It took her years to decipher it, and when she did, it ignited a small glow deep within her marrow. The words were simple.
You are good. You are wise.
She had deciphered the bone after Donaidh lashed out at her, calling her a mangy cur and ripping off her dewclaw, the fifth claw on one of her front paws. There had been other messages since. None of them were addressed specifically to Katria — they could have beenmeant for any she-wolf who had suffered a harsh life in the Beyond’s most brutal clan — but Katria seemed to find them at moments of utter darkness and despair. The most recent she found soon after the death of Kyran. She buried the bones where no one would discover them.
    Through the years, the language had become easier and easier for her to comprehend. The messages were never demanding or didactic. They never told her what to do or even suggested a course of action, for the words didnot seek to teach as much as to make her believe in herself and her own power. Most important, the bones of the
banuil caint
allowed her to reflect deeply on her life and its meaning. Gradually, she began to believe in her own worth. With this belief came a trust in her dignity as a living creature on earth. It became clear to her that nothing was owed her but that there were things she needed to do if she wanted to live a life of courage instead of fear.
    And now the MacHeaths were planning a war, and Katria knew she had to leave. If anyone could stop the war, it would not be the wise wolves of the Watch but the MacNamara clan. For no one knew the ways of the MacHeaths better than the MacNamaras. And no wolf was braver than a MacNamara she-wolf. They were slow to anger, but once set upon, a spark ignited deep within them that forged their marrow into stone. It was as if flint ran in their bones.
    Katria set off shortly before dawn, just after the departure of her chief and his top lieutenants to grab a cub. Katria blessed the prevailing wind that would speed her journey and slow the chieftain on his own diabolical mission in the opposite direction. Her journey would take longer,but she planned to travel at press-paw speed. Females were the strongest runners in any wolf pack, and outflankers were the strongest of all. She felt a kindling in her bones. Was it the flint of the MacNamaras? She was determined to get to them in time.
    She had been on the trail for a while butwas not in the least tired. The words of the
banuil caint
seemed to sing down her bones, and with each step, she became increasingly invigorated. As high noon approached and her shadow grew shorter, a bright shadow inside her seemed to be growing. Katria did not have a name for it. She had never before felt this sense of emboldened spirit expanding within her.
    A sound emanated from a sparse copse of birches and brambly thornbushes, and Katria stopped for a moment. She knew in her marrow that