Watch Wolf

stuff.”
    Gadfeathers!
Faolan had heard the word before, but now it stirred a little twinge in his marrow.
    “Gadfeathers?” Edme asked. “What are gadfeathers, Gwynneth?”
    “They sing!” Faolan said.
    “Now, how ever did you know that, Faolan? I’m surprised.”
    Faolan looked startled.
    “I think I heard one of the Watch wolves talking about it.”
    Gwynneth looked at him with curiosity, butcontinued, “They’ve become somewhat of a novelty. During ancient times in the northern kingdoms, there werecountless gadfeathers. Recently, they’ve begun to come back. But very few have come into the Beyond, and that’s why I was surprised when you said you’d heard of them.”
    Faolan said nothing. For the truth was that he was as puzzled as Gwynneth that he knew about gadfeathers and their singing.
    Later, back on watch, Faolan stood atop Stormfast’s cairn, peering into a sky draped with stars and the tracery of hot red embers. Would he know a gadfeather song if he heard one? But it was not only gadfeathers he wondered about. Some of his odd thoughts made him grip the keybone of the cairn more tightly than ever. He wanted to spring high into the night, catch the hottest of the drafts, and lift above the embers to the stars, as if they held the sources of the strange wisps of knowledge that came to him.
    The night was torn with flames, and the red silhouettes of the volcanoes played across the barren landscape of the Ring. The shifting shadows of the night were like a scrim. On the other side, something was waiting for him, if he could only see it. A fate? A destiny only dimly perceived? Faolan sprang high, higher than he’d ever jumped before. The draft was hot, but he did not feel its heat. What he felt was cold, icy cold.
I am in a ring of fire, but I feel ice.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
O LD C AGS
    TOBY HEARD THE LOUD SNORES of his mother and the softer ones of his brother. It seemed to the young cub that his mum and his brother, Burney, spent all their time sleeping. Life was so boring. He wished that nice wolf with one eye were here. But he hadn’t seen her since the day they’d played on the riverbank. She’d taught him a game — hidey bone. He wanted to play it again, but Burney never thought of interesting places to hide the bone. And it was so exciting when the wolf ran with it. She was so fast, but then could skid to a stop and wheel about as quick as a wink. He decided to practice now: At least that would be more fun than sleeping. So he picked up a bone from a caribou his mum had taken down earlier and began running with it.
    Run, jump, quick turn, roll and up onto all fours, jumpagain!
Just as the little cub skidded to a stop, a gray she-wolf with black patches stepped out from behind a boulder.
    “I can’t believe it!” Toby cried with glee.
    “Can’t believe what, little one?”
    “I was just hoping for a wolf to come play with me!”
    “Well, how lucky we are, then.” The she-wolf cocked her head to one side and regarded the cub. There was a hard glint in her eyes that stirred a pale shadow of unease in Toby, but he was so bored and eager to play.
    “You like to play, don’t you?” he asked.
    “Oh, yes, most certainly,” the wolf answered.
    “Do you know the game hidey bone?”
    “Why, yes. Now, where did a cub likeyou learn such a game?”
    “From this wonderful wolf.”
    “Wonderful, she was? You don’t say.” The wolf grinned.
    Toby was feeling a tad uncertain now. “Yes, wonderful. I just can’t remember her name.”
    “What’s your name?” the wolf asked.
    “I … I …”
I shouldn’t talk to strangers,
Toby thought as his mother’s admonition came back to him. Fear and dread flooded through him. Every bristle of his fur prickled and stood up rigidly. Just then, four other wolves flashedout and surrounded him. Before Toby could even cry out, one of the wolves had clamped the cub’s muzzle and lifted him off his feet.
    “Think of this as a new game, dear.” Fretta’s voice threaded into Toby’s ear. He could feel her warm, fetid breath on his face.
    “My mum’s going to be mad, reallllly really mad!”the little cub cried out when the wolves finally released the grip on his muzzle and he could scream. But it did him little good. He already knew that his mum and brother would never hear him. They were too far away by now, asleep on the riverbank.
Will they ever be sorry!
he thought.
    At first there had been only one wolf. And she looked nice enough and Toby