know a bit of magic. But none of us are warriors. We haven’t trained in the Seventh Degree. We don’t even know archery. I wish Mother had taught us some weaponry.”
Morgunn nodded. “She always meant to, I think, but she never found the time—”
She flinched suddenly, and I froze, listening.
Howling. It echoed through the hills, eerie and melancholy. I couldn’t tell from which direction it originated or from how far away.
I sat down next to Morgunn. “The wolf-priests won’t stay here long. The jarls may not care about a few villages burning in the Middlelands, but the Quicks will track the beasts down soon enough.”
“But I’ve heard that Jarl Meath is near ninety and was on his deathbed last spring. The old bastard might be dead by now.” She paused. “According to Gyda, this wolf leader Uther will not be easy to kill.”
“The wolves come every year, and every year the Quicks drive them out again. Have faith, Morgunn.”
She nodded and closed her eyes again. I walked around her curled-up body, opened the front door, and stepped outside.
The breeze lifted my hair and sent it flying. I scanned the dark silhouette of the hills and breathed in deeply. The air smelled fresh and soft and verdant. It smelled of Viggo.
I turned my back to the strong night wind and watched dark gray clouds move against a black sky.
SIX
Alone Fremish wolf-priest had come to our steading the winter before. She crept into our Hall one winter twilight, sneaking through the doors and hugging the shadows like a rat.
I was in the west corridor, returning from the barn, when I heard our servant Elna scream. I found the wolf holding a rusty dagger to the girl’s throat, the doors of the Hall wide open, snow drifting in on a light evening breeze.
She was short and bone-thin, with bulging blue eyes peering out between thick, tangled hair, a grim mouth in a face streaked with mud. In her right hand she held the dagger, and her left gripped Elna’s braid in a tight fist. She wore a shaggy wolf-pelt cloak, and her pupils were large and glossy—she was flying high on yew berry poison.
She was young, fifteen at most. Her forehead barely reached Elna’s nose. Wolf-priests usually move in packs, and they rarely bother with steadings—we didn’t provide enough sport. I figured this girl must be a rogue—cast out for some wolf crime.
“What do you want, wolf? We’ve no gold. We raise sheep, and the wool harvest isn’t until spring.”
“I didn’t come for gold.” She spat on the floor. “We care nothing for it. We seek only meat and screams and fire and blood.”
We stared at each other, neither moving. With a quick jerk, the wolf-priest released Elna’s braid and reached into her tunic. She pulled out a small vial filled with a thin, orange-hued liquid. “Drink this,” she said, “and I’ll let you both live.”
“I’m not going to drink your poison, wolf.”
“It won’t hurt you. It will just let you see.”
The vial contained yew berry juice. I’d heard the wolves would negotiate only with people who drank their poison. The girl didn’t lie—it wouldn’t harm me. It would likely only turn me senseless for a while, or perhaps give me a vision or two. Nothing worse than eating a Sly Barbaric Mushroom, which I’d done once before.
I looked from the wolf to Elna and back again. “Hand it here.”
I pulled the small cork and sniffed. It smelled of sweet, ripe fruit and cold winter storms. I drained the vial and then threw it into the fire, where it shattered against the logs. I licked my lips. The poison tasted of crisp apples and fresh snow.
The wolf-priest released her dagger. It hit the floor, and I kicked it with the toe of my boot into the far corner. I grabbed Elna by the waist and pulled her to my side. She shuddered, as if to shake off the wolf’s touch, and then leaned into me.
“Go,” I whispered in her ear. “I don’t know what will happen now—stay well clear of it.”
Elna gave me a long look and then slid out of my arms. She crossed the hall and disappeared down the west corridor.
The poison began to work. I felt it creep into me, into my blood, into my heart. I felt my skin flush with the poison-heat.
The wolf turned to the side and whispered something under her breath. A cold sweep of air blew past me, colder even than the winter breeze from