The she-wolves went wild. The Namara's voice rose higher.

"And when this war is over, and you have a grandpup and she asks, *What did you do in the great war against the bears?' you can look her straight in the eye and say, *Daughter, your granny traveled with the great MacNamara expeditionary force and fought for justice alongside the toughest old she-wolf, Galana, the Namara of the clan!'"

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.

"EDME! EDME! EDME!"

AFTER ALL THE TERRIFYING HOURS spent in the Pit never uttering his own name, Toby had shouted out the name of a friend. Soon the walls of the Pit were resounding with Old Cags bellowing, "Edme! Edme! Edme!" Long bubbly threads of foam inscribed the air as he advanced on Edme. She quit her jumping. Her intense green eye locked on Old Cags and began to grow dim. It's turning to stone! Faolan thought.

Not only had Edme seemed to freeze, with her eye so dim that it was now as blank as the missing one, as if it had become a void through which her marrow leaked out, but Old Cags seemed steady and focused. A new light burned in the diseased wolf's eyes, a glowing that spoke of his terror of dying diseased and alone. He is frightened to die alone! Faolan realized. He wants to share his sickness and his final death!

"Edme! Edme!" Old Cags chanted. "I need a name, I got a name, now nothing more will be the same. Edme, Edme, Edme! Come share the foam. We're not alone. Edme, Edme!" Old Cags was walking steadily, staggering no longer, and closing the distance between himself and a frozen Edme.

Arthur looked down. Has the wolf gone yeep? Yeep was a state in which an owl got so scared in midair that its wings locked, and the bird plummeted to the ground. And it looked as if the same thing had happened to the wolf. Edme stood stiff-legged and dazed as Old Cags advanced, screaming her name.

"Move! Edme! Run!" Faolan shouted.

It was as if she were ensnared in a terrible web that grew vaster as it reverberated with the din of her name, Edme, spinning through the Pit. The sticky threads of disease ensnared not just Edme but all of them.

Then the air seemed to split, the whining filaments of sound ripped apart as a blur of feathers bolted from above. Old Cags jerked, and then there was a terrible shriek a" the alarm call of a Spotted Owl.

"Arthur!" Faolan let the name slip before he could stop himself.

"Arthur!" The sound was m.u.f.fled, for Old Cags had a firm grip on Arthur's port wing, which hung broken between his jaws.

"Run," Arthur cried. "Get the cub and run!"

They heard delicate owl bones crunching between Old Cags's jaws and saw blood dripping from his mouth. Edme raced to Faolan's side, where the cub huddled. They were still close to Old Cags, but the sick wolf was was so absorbed with his new partner in death that he paid them no heed. They watched the light fade in the Spotted Owl's eyes. Even the jewel-like sprinkling of white spots across the top of Arthur's head seemed to grow dull.

"Out!" Faolan ordered.

And the two wolves and the cub raced up the trail.

High above, on the edge of the rim, they looked down to the floor of the stone h.e.l.l of the Pit as life expired in the brave young owl.

And it all began with a foolish dare, Faolan thought. There was a loud crack of thunder, and the sky splintered with lightning. And still they stayed as the Spotted Owl teetered on the threshold of death.

Toby looked up at the two wolves. He sensed they were in some deep trance as they watched their friend dying. The word the cub did not know was lochinvyrr, a death ritual that was instinctive among wolves. An urge flowed through them to acknowledge the dying animal's value.

The silent flyer will be gathered into the greater silence, Faolan thought. Speed you to Glaumora now. And he wondered if, as for wolves, the owls' Glaumora had a star ladder and a kindly spirit guide to help Arthur on his way. He looked toward the eastern horizon so bright with sun that the stars seemed far away, and then took one last look at Arthur. One wing was nearly torn off. But surely there is a spirit owl who will help fly him to Glaumora, surely! Faolan thought.

Now there was not much time.

Faolan knew that he and Edme must race with the cub to the Black Gla.s.s Desert, where the wolves and bears would battle. He had to get to the Fengo so the word could be spread that the cub was safe! Even from this vast distance, it seemed to him that he could hear reverberations of the drumming. A day and a night a a day and a night. That was how long Thunderheart said the bears ma.s.sed. The very air seemed to throb with the sound of the pounding of the grizzlies' feet. There wasn't much time left now.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR.

THE BLACK GLa.s.s DESERT.

SOME CALLED IT THE DARKLANDS after the black sand made of gla.s.s fragments that absorbed nearly all light and reflected nothing. On this night, the blackness seemed to devour even the stars, the sliver of the newing moon, the threads of lightning that didn't flash or crackle but seemed to hang limply in the sky like gauzy cobwebs.

Faolan, Edme, and the cub stood on a cliff overlooking the desert, the rock beneath their feet trembling with the drumming of the bears. They could see the ma.s.sive silhouettes of rank upon rank of bears. A gap of perhaps half a league separated the bears from the wolves, who were far greater in number but appeared, in comparison, like dwarf creatures.

Within Faolan a terrible war was already raging. I am as much bear as wolf. How can one part of me lift a paw against the other?

He closed his eyes for a moment and pictured the spiraling lines on his pad a" swirling in the night, like embers caught in the twisting hot drafts from a volcano's crater. He sometimes imagined that the spinning tracery that had marked him as a malcadh spoke of something not cursed but sublime. That the swirling design whispered of another pattern, a larger one of infinite harmony. Faolan knew that deep within him, two elements, bear and wolf, combined to make his essence, make him who he was. Now his marrow was turning bitter; to kill a bear was unthinkable. He raised a paw and gently stroked Toby's shoulder.

"I can't see my mum from here. It's too dark." Toby had flattened himself on the ground and was hanging his head over the edge of the cliff to peer out into the blackness.

"We'll find her, dear," Edme said consolingly.

How are we going to do this? Faolan thought. There were hundreds of bears out there, maybe thousands, and in the thickening darkness they all looked like one big ma.s.s.

There was an awkward fluttering in the air above them. It was an owl, and she was furious.

"Gwynneth!" Faolan shouted.

"Are you yoicks?" she spluttered. "Numbskulls! You're supposed to be back on your cairns at the Ring. You're going to get in big a"" Gwynneth stopped abruptly. "Who's that?" she asked, looking at Toby.

"I'm a cub. And I don't like the way you talk to my friends, stupid!"

"Now, now, dear." Edme b.u.t.ted Toby gently on the neck. "She doesn't understand."

"I certainly don't," Gwynneth said. She looked dumbfounded for a moment, but then a light sparkled in her black eyes. "No! The cub!" She gasped. "You're the missing cub!"

"I certainly am!" Toby growled.

Faolan stepped forward to where the owl perched. "This is Toby. The MacHeaths s.n.a.t.c.hed him and put him in the Pit."

"The Pit!" Gwynneth murmured. "Great Glaux, I thought the Pit was just a rumor a" such a horrifying one that every owl is frightened even to fly over it. A foaming-mouth wolf! How did he survive a""

"They rescued me!" Toby shouted. Gwynneth's beak dropped open with astonishment. "And you called them numbskulls!" Toby growled low and deep. It was such a mature growl, it surprised all of them.

"Calm down, Toby. Gwynneth meant no harm. She didn't understand. She's one of my oldest friends in the Beyond," Faolan soothed.

"How can she be your good friend if I am?" Toby began to whine, sounding once again like an immature cub.

Edme put her muzzle right in front of Toby's brown eyes. "Faolan has a large, generous heart. He can be a good friend to many. Now, let's end this nonsense and figure out how to get you back with your mum and stop this disastrous war!" Edme turned to Gwynneth. "Gwynneth, will you fly back to the Fengo and tell him we have the cub? The word must be spread as fast as possible."

The two wolves felt the brush of a soft wind gust and the next thing they knew, Gwynneth was soaring above them.

As the owl flew in and was seen to perch on Grizz's ma.s.sive shoulder, the drumming seemed to pause. Grizz was the grizzly elder known also as the Bear of Bears of the Beyond. Although the social organization of the bears was not nearly as structured as that of the wolves, the Bear of Bears was a kind of chieftain. He settled territorial disputes between bears and dealt with all business transacted between the wolves and the bears of the Beyond. Grizz was very old at this point and, despite his size, he was weak. Palsied, blind in one eye, with only dim vision in the other, and with many of his teeth missing, Grizz was clearly not long for this earth. His paw shook uncontrollably as the owl whispered in his ear.

"You say Toby's been found?" he rasped. "My great-grandson's been found!"

"Yes," Gwynneth replied. "He comes now with an escort a.s.signed by the Fengo."

"Bring him forth and we shall parley with the wolves."

"What? Impossible!" Dunbar MacHeath stared at his scout. "You're sure, Fretta?"

"I'm sure. The cub has been rescued."

"Who? Who rescued him?"

"Edme and the wolf Faolan."

Dunbar MacHeath's scar quivered like a boiling river running down his clenched face. "This a this a" His voice was ragged.

The MacHeath lieutenants regarded Dunbar nervously. They'd never seen him like this before.

"Why are you looking at me so stupidly?" Dunbar snarled. "You idiots. This will be our undoing. With the cub rescued, there's no chance for a war with the bears. We're finished." He paused and his eyes rolled up until only the barest crescent of green showed against the whites. "Unless a" he began slowly.

"Unless what, Lord Chieftain?" Malan asked.

Dunbar MacHeath wheeled around to Fretta. "Where is the cub now? Where's Grizz?"

"Top lieutenants from the Watch have met up with Edme and Faolan. They're escorting the cub to the center of the Black Gla.s.s Desert, to the Twisted Four-four."

"You mean the four yondos in the middle of the desert?"

"Yes. Grizz is making his way now to the Fengo for a parley at those yondos, not far from where the bears have a.s.sembled for their rally. The cub is to be delivered directly to Grizz."

"Grizz is old and unsteady!" Dunbar MacHeath said, his ears shoved forward and his hackles raised. "He's a perfect target for a slink melf!"

"Aaaah!" An exhalation of relief and hope reverberated through the cave.

"There will be a war yet with the bears. Malan, Fretta, Blyden, Andreen, Aila, Donaidh! We go now. Attack speed! By my marrow, the Sacred Ring shall be ours!"

A savage howling erupted from the gathered wolves as the largest slink melf ever a.s.sembled tore out of the cave and streaked toward the four yondos on the darkling plains of the Black Gla.s.s Desert.

With the exception of the MacHeaths, there had been much rejoicing among the clans of the Beyond when Toby returned unharmed. What had initially begun as a march to the opening front of a terrible war was now a joyous journey to celebrate the return of a cub. There were two wolves, however, whose relief was tinged with anxiety.

"You know what this means?" Katria said in a low voice to Airmead.

The white wolf nodded. "Yes, of course. Dunbar MacHeath will not go silently into oblivion."

The two wolves stopped as the rest of the MacNamaras flowed by them.

"He'll still want his war," Katria said. "They'll be up to something."

Without saying another word, Katria and Airmead peeled off from the expeditionary force and headed toward the rondos in the Black Gla.s.s Desert, intent on stopping any wolves who wanted to turn the celebration into a bloodbath.

Airmead marveled that soon Katria, hackles raised and nose to the ground, began picking up not just scents but tracks a" tracks that, to another wolf, might seem anonymous. But Katria knew these paw prints from when she had to press the wolves running a byrrgis into crimping maneuvers, blocking strategies, and tackling sprints. She had run nearly every position on a MacHeath byrrgis. "This is Blyden a and of course Donaidh a" the old fool. I'd know his paw print anyplace. And here's Malan and Fretta." She stopped in her tracks. "Andreen! Aila! Great Lupus! It's a slink melf led by Dunbar!" She looked up at Airmead. "They're going to a.s.sa.s.sinate Grizz!"

A large silence opened up in the Darklands, like jaws that seemed to swallow the drumming of the bears in antic.i.p.ation of the cub's arrival. It was as if the entire Beyond had paused to savor the momentous event. Wolves shoved their ears forward, owls rotated their heads so their ear slits could catch the rumbled whispers that began to rise from the army of bears. "They say he's coming. Toby is coming!"

Then near the Twisted Four, a voice split the drumming. "Toby!" Bronka roared. The mother and cub ran toward each other through a dark, winding path that wove between the small hillocks, separating the four yondos. Grizz roared in jubilation.

"Where are they?" Airmead said desperately. The track for the slink melf had gone cold almost as soon as they had reached the Black Gla.s.s Desert. Unlike dirt, the granules of the fine sand could not hold a print. The slink melf*s scent, too, seemed to evaporate in the dry air.

"We have to keep our eyes on Grizz," Airmead said.

"You watch Grizz. I'll watch the dark." Katria had begun to realize that the Black Gla.s.s Desert was not all dark in the same way. And although the eerie dunes and plains seemed shadowless, there were more shades of black than one might imagine. Katria caught a movement at the far edge of her vision, less than forty strides away, where Grizz had just turned behind one of the hillocks.

An extraordinary energy coursed through her. She had no memory of her feet leaving the ground, but suddenly she was airborne and sailing over the small hill that obscured Grizz. Her teeth sank into Andreen's ruff just as Andreen sank her teeth into the haunches of the Bear of Bears. There was a roar that sounded as if the earth were being torn apart. Katria, her vision obscured by spraying blood, somehow managed to jump clear as Grizz's ma.s.sive body began to collapse.

There was a thunderous howling followed by the rumbling growls of bears. "Grizz was attacked!" someone yelled. And that someone was not Grizz's guards but Dunbar MacHeath himself! The slink melf had managed to vanish except for Andreen, who was pinned under the Grizz's body. A tangle of wolves surrounded Edme. She glimpsed Jasper and the Fengo, but there were others.

It took Edme a split second to understand what had transpired. "It's the MacHeaths! They attacked."

"No!" Dunbar started to shout as he raced away from where the slink melf had been. He didn't get far before Edme was upon him like an airborne missile. She tore open his face, ripping the scar that her own mother had carved. She pulled and pulled on his flesh, digging her fangs in ever deeper until she sliced into the life-giving artery in his neck and a huge spurt of blood drenched her.

Dunbar MacHeath looked at her with bewilderment. "How? How?" he gurgled.

"I finished my mum's work, that's all," Edme whispered.

"Death to the wolves," someone from the throng of bears cried out. "Death to the wolves."

"No!" roared a she-bear. It was Toby's mum. She loped forward with both her cubs riding on her back. "Listen to me! Listen!"

"It's Bronka. Bronka and both her cubs," others whispered.

The Bear of Bears stirred. The throngs gathered closer as they watched him stagger to his feet. Crushed beneath him was the body of Andreen.