Secrets of the Wolves Read online

  Previously an editor at a leading American publishing house, Dorothy Hearst now lives and writes in San Francisco. Visit www.dorothyhearst.com

  Praise for Promise of the Wolves

  ‘If you liked Watership Down, you should not miss Promise of the Wolves’ Jean Auel

  ‘Hearst’s story, from the off, beguiles with its dazzling imagining of the relationship between wolves and humankind thousands of years ago’ Daily Telegraph

  ‘The story of Kaala and her pack takes readers on a journey into a rich and fascinating world. A remarkable look into another kind of being’ Temple Grandin, bestselling author of Animals in Translation

  ‘A crackling foray into a dangerous past . . . Hearst’s remarkable fluency when writing in Kaala’s voice is immediately absorbing’ Publishers Weekly

  Also by Dorothy Hearst

  THE WOLF CHRONICLES : Promise of The Wolves

  First published in Great Britain by Simon & Schuster, 2011

  This edition first published by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd, 2011

  An imprint of Simon & Schuster UK

  A CBS company

  Copyright © Dorothy Hearst, 2010

  This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.

  No reproduction without permission.

  ® and © 1997 Simon & Schuster Inc. All rights reserved.

  Pocket Books & Design is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster

  The right of Dorothy Hearst to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  Simon & Schuster UK Ltd

  1st Floor

  222 Gray's Inn Road

  London WC1X 8HB

  www.simonandschuster.co.uk

  Simon & Schuster Australia

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  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  Trade paperback ISBN: 978-1-84737-210-9

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-84739-231-2

  eBook ISBN: 978-0-85720-069-3

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Typeset by Hewer Text UK Ltd, Edinburgh

  Printed and bound in Great Britain by CPI Mackays

  Dedicated to

  Jean Hearst

  with love and gratitude

  and many thanks for all of the words

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  I was not the first wolf to promise to be the guardian of the humans. That pledge was made many years ago in a time of great hunger, when a wolf named Indru met a tribe of starving humans. It was so long ago that wolves had just become wolf and humans were not yet quite human. The humans stood on two legs as they do now but had not yet lost their fur. They had not learned to control fire or build sturdy dens, and they had not learned to make throwing sticks that could kill beasts many times their own size. They were not nearly as good at surviving as were Indru and his pack.

  The humans that Indru met at the edge of a great desert were so thin and hungry-looking that it seemed certain they would die. They should have made good prey for his pack, but Indru did not hear the call to the hunt. He felt pulled to the humans, as he would to his own packmates. He felt so drawn to them, so protective, that he could not let them die. He wanted to help them live. So Indru and his pack taught the humans the secrets of wolfkind: how to hunt rather than just scavenge what others had killed, how to find the best prey, and how a pack can work together to be stronger than any one individual. The humans survived.

  Indru’s wolves and the newly vigorous humans hunted together and slept side by side. The bond between them strengthened until it was as much a part of the wolves as their own heartbeats. Wolf and human might have become one pack, one family, but as the humans gained strength and knowledge, they grew proud. They did not stop learning after mastering the skills the wolves had taught them, but gained more and more knowledge, until they were stronger than many other creatures. They said that they were better than other creatures and they demanded that the wolves serve them. When the wolves refused, the humans became so angry that they used their newfound knowledge to destroy everything within their reach. They killed whatever could not escape them and, when they learned the secrets of fire, even burned their own lands.

  What happened next, our legends tell us, is that when the Ancients—Sun, Moon, Earth, and Grandmother Sky—saw what havoc the humans caused, they prepared to destroy both wolf and humankind. In other times, there had been creatures who had grown too powerful, and the Ancients had killed them, too. The legends say that one time they hurled a huge rock from the sky that caused a night that would not end, and that many creatures perished.

  Indru climbed to the top of a high mountain and pleaded with the Ancients. He was so eloquent in his supplication that he convinced the Ancients to spare wolf and humankind. In exchange, the Ancients demanded a promise from Indru. They told him that the humans, when left on their own with their newfound knowledge, would continue to believe that they were different from other creatures, better than any others, and thus would find it easy to destroy everything around them. Indru promised that wolves would become guardians of the humans. They would teach the humans of the Balance—how all creatures are part of the world and must not destroy that which they depend upon to survive. They would forever watch over the humans to ensure that they never again grew too proud and destructive.

  Indru and his packmates taught the humans how to be a part of nature, and how one must never take Earth, Sun, Moon, Sky, and the bounty they provide for granted. They taught them about family and taking care of one’s pack. They taught them how to be part of everything around them. And they showed the humans how to cherish the Balance. For generation upon generation, wolves tried to keep humans in touch with the world around them. But the humans, who bred faster than wolves ever had, began to want more than they had. They once again grew proud, and once again tried to make the wolves their slaves. The wolves—who could be as proud as any human—once again refused. There was a great war, with humans killing wolves and wolves killing humans. The wolves, angry and resentful, forsook their promise. The legends say that the Ancients then sent a winter three years long to end the lives of wolves and humans. That other creatures would die, too, apparently didn’t matter to them. Throughout the land, humans and wolves starved. Throughout the land, wolves and humans died.

  The second time wolves and humans hunted together, the long winter ended. A youngwolf named Lydda, who lived in the Wide Valley generations before I was born there, found a hungry human boy weeping against a rock. She felt drawn to him, as Indru had been drawn to his humans, and lay down beside him. Then Lydda and the young human killed a weakened elk. The meat saved both Lydda’s pack and the young human’s tribe, and the wolves and humans of the Wide Valley began to hunt as one pack, bringing the two clans together once more. The Ancients, pleased that the wolves had remembered their promise, ended the long winter. But it was not long before wolves and humans began to fight once again.

  That was when th
e Greatwolves came to the Wide Valley, and as soon as they arrived, they began to tell lies.

  They came down from the eastern mountains and found Lydda and her boy watching, bereft, as their families fought one another. No one had ever seen such huge wolves before, and when they told Lydda that they had been sent down from the sky by the Ancients, she believed them. They forced her to leave the valley, telling her she was a danger to wolfkind.

  Then they invented a false legend: that when Indru had spoken to the Ancients, he had promised not to watch over the humans, but rather to stay forever away from them so that humans would not continue to learn so many new things. They said that they had been sent by the Ancients to teach the humans of the Balance from afar and that someday, when the weakness that made the Wide Valley wolves love the humans so much had been bred out of them, the Greatwolves would let them take over this task. Lydda believed them. She took her human boy and left the Wide Valley. Only after her death did she learn the truth. She discovered a way to return to the world of life. And she came to me.

  By the time she did so, I was already an outcast from my pack. My mother had mated with a wolf from outside the valley. The Greatwolves carefully controlled the breeding of the Wide Valley wolves, and only they could give permission for mixed-blood pups. Wolves with Outsider blood were considered unlucky, and I had almost been killed as a smallpup because of it. When I grew fascinated by the humans, it only made things worse. I was told that being with the humans was wrong and that my inability to stay away from them made me a danger to my pack and to wolfkind, that it was proof that I was an aberrant wolf. When I saved the life of a human child, I kept it secret from my pack, believing that I was unnatural.

  Lydda found me and told me the truth, that wolves and humans were meant to be together—that our survival depended on it. She helped me learn of the Greatwolves’ lies, so that I could stop a battle between wolves and humans that would have led to war. She gave me the confidence to convince my pack that we were to be the guardians of the humans and the strength to take on the promise of wolfkind. Then she left me.

  She came to me one last time, a quarter moon after I had stopped the battle. I was crouched against a stout oak, sheltering myself from a sudden windstorm. She spoke urgently, as if she expected any moment to be set upon by a larger hunter.

  “You’ve done so well, Kaala,” she had said, touching her nose to mine. “But I can no longer come here to you.”

  “Why not?” I needed her. I had promised to take on responsibility for the humans at least in part because she had told me to, because she had made me promise to succeed in the task that she had failed in. She couldn’t leave me to face the consequences alone.

  “The leaderwolves of the spirit realm forbade me to come here, and now they know I have disobeyed them,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “They will be watching me carefully. But it’s not just that. Wolves of the spirit realm are not meant to return to the world of life. We cannot endure here for long. If I continue to come, I will not be able to live in either world.”

  It was then that I noticed how thin she was, how frail. It had been less than a moon since I’d last seen her, and then she had been sleek and healthy.

  “But I need you,” I had said. “I’m supposed to keep wolf and humankind together. I can’t do it alone.”

  “I know, Kaala. You have done more than I could have hoped, and I will not abandon you. I have heard of a place where the worlds of life and of death come together. You must find that place.”

  She might as well have told me to hunt a herd of elkryn on my own.

  “How?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, Kaala. The leaderwolves of the spirit realm don’t tell me things, but I have overheard them speaking of such a place, and of one who can travel between the world of life and death to get there. Perhaps you can find this one who travels.”

  I heard an angry howl, echoing through the valley. Lydda cringed. “I must go. Will you promise me to try to find this place?”

  “Yes,” I said, blinking against the wind.

  “Good. Then I know I will see you again soon.”

  She spoke to me quickly then, telling me everything she could before she had to go. Then she licked the top of my head, and disappeared into the thick underbrush.

  I was not the first wolf to hunt with the humans, but I might very well be the last. It was one of the last things Lydda told me before she had to return to the spirit world: that this time, there would be no more chances.

  1

  I caught the delicate scent of distant prey and stopped, digging my paws into the earth. Lifting my muzzle to the wind, I inhaled, allowing the distinctive ice-and-hoof aroma to sink to the back of my throat. Snow deer, in our territory and on the move. All at once, blood rushed to the sensitive spot just behind my ears. My mouth moistened, and every muscle in my body hungered for the chase. Next to me, Ázzuen stood as still as I was, only his ears twitching. Then his dark gray head began to sway, pulled between the lure of prey and our task.

  “We can’t go after them,” I said. “We have to get to Tall Grass.”

  “I know that,” he replied, panting hard. We’d run most of the way across our territory at full pelt. “I’m coming.”

  Neither of us moved. I could, just barely, restrain myself from following the prey-scent, but I couldn’t bring myself to move away from it. Neither could Ázzuen. The small cluster of pine trees in which we stood blocked out the early morning sun, allowing thick drops of moisture to form on Ázzuen’s fur. His entire body now strained toward the prey. As a fresh gust of deer-scent washed over us, I closed my eyes.

  A painful yank on the fur of my chest made me yelp. I glared down to see dark eyes peering at me out of a gleaming black feathered head and a sharp beak poised to jab at my paw. I stepped back. Tlitoo raised his wings as if to take flight, then strode forward to stand under my chin, staying within stabbing distance. His winter plumage made him seem larger than a not-yet-year-old raven should, and his tail and back were speckled with the snow he’d been rolling in. He stared a beady challenge at me, and then at Ázzuen, who jumped aside to get out of beak range and buried his nose in the snow, trying to freeze away the deer-scent.

  When Tlitoo saw that he had our attention, he quorked softly.

  “The Grimwolves are exactly fourteen minutes behind you, wolflets, and their legs are much longer than yours. They will catch up.”

  My throat tightened. I’d thought we had more time. The Greatwolves had ruled the Wide Valley for as long as any wolf could remember, and all wolves were required to obey them.

  An angry howl made all three of us cringe. Stop! The command in the Greatwolf Frandra’s voice was clear. And wait for us. Stay at the pine grove. We will come for you.

  “How do they know where we are?” I demanded. “Their noses can’t be all that good.” We’d heard rumors that the Greatwolves could read the minds of other wolves. Ázzuen claimed the Greatwolves made up those stories themselves.

  “They smell us and they smell pine,” he said firmly. “And they’re guessing.”

  “It doesn’t matter, wolves!” Tlitoo rasped. “The longer you blather, the closer they get!”

  I took a deep breath, calming myself. The Greatwolves would catch up with us in the end, and when they did they would be angry. But I was determined to make it to the Tall Grass plain before they found us, no matter what the consequence. For on the morning wind there rode another scent, one even more potent than that of the snow deer. A scent of sweat and flesh, of smoke and pine, of meat cooked over fire: the scent of the humans who shared our hunt. The ground beneath our paws was softening with the beginnings of the thaw, and the breeze that ruffled our fur sang of winter’s weakening. For three nights, the Ice Moon had narrowed to the smallest of crescents and then faded to darkness. And with the waning of the Ice Moon, the wolves and humans of the Wide Valley could be together once again.

  It had been three moons since we’d last seen our hum
ans, on a cool autumn morning when the humans and wolves of the Wide Valley had nearly gone to war. If we had done so, every wolf and human in the valley would have been killed by order of the Greatwolves. I had stopped that war, with the help of my packmates, and in doing so had convinced the leader of the Greatwolves to spare us. In exchange I had made a promise: that for one year I would ensure that the wolves and humans of the Wide Valley did not fight. If I succeeded, the Wide Valley wolves and humans would live. If I failed, the Greatwolves would kill us all.

  The next night, a heavy snowstorm howled into the Wide Valley, warning us that the hungry days of winter neared. Wolves and humans, along with every other creature in the valley, would have to struggle to survive the harsh winter, and so the Greatwolves gave us three moons to prepare before we took on the task of keeping peace between human and wolf—as long as we stayed away from the humans during that time. Today was the day our task was to begin. But two nights ago, the Greatwolves had ordered us to come to them as soon as the Ice Moon waned. Instead, awoken by Tlitoo’s warning, we’d fled.

  I met Ázzuen’s eyes and filled my throat with the cool morning air. The Greatwolves had lied to us too many times. With one last look in the direction of the snow deer, I leapt over Tlitoo’s snowy back and sprinted toward the Tall Grass plain, folding my ears against the wrathful howls of the Greatwolves.

  When we reached the Wood’s Edge Gathering Place, a few steps from where the trees met the Tall Grass plain, we found Marra pacing restlessly, her pale gray fur flecked with dirt and leaves. She darted over to touch my nose and then Ázzuen’s with her own, her muzzle quivering with impatience.

  “Ruuqo and Rissa are on their way here with Trevegg,” Marra said quickly. “The rest of the pack went after the snow deer.” I had sent her on ahead to warn the leaderwolves that the Greatwolves followed us; we hadn’t wanted to risk howling. Tlitoo could have flown to them more quickly than even fleet Marra could run, but he had refused to leave us. He’d been agitated since waking us at dawn. Even now, he stalked back and forth between me and Ázzuen, clacking his beak impatiently.