Ardi turned slowly. At first, he thought he was looking at a glowing tree, one that had had its bark replaced by fur, and was now shimmering slightly and radiating warmth. The young hunter recoiled, stumbling over the uneven cave floor and landing on the soft spot on his body where a normal creature’s tail would begin.
Only now, with his head tilted back, could he clearly see the wolf standing before him. A she-wolf, to be exact. She was so tall at the shoulders that she rivaled a young birch, with thick, flowing fur that shimmered with a snowy light in the dim cave. Behind her and all around her was a wide trail of icy, blue mist. Wherever it touched the stone walls, they were soon covered in sparkling frost decorated with patterns of trees, meadows, and rivers. The frost would then spread farther and farther, cracking and falling off in ringing droplets that turned into long icicles in the air.
Her luxurious mane swayed in the wind, though Ardi could feel no breeze except for the hot breath of the giant she-wolf. And just like with the troll, a gem shone within her forehead, only it was blue instead of red.
"H-h-h-hello," Ardi stammered, his voice shaking.
The wolf tilted her head to the side, her icy eyes, each the size of a small pond, looking at the young hunter. Not at him directly, but deeper, to where the words of Skusty and Ergar had sometimes reached.
Ardi felt a cold inside him, a cold he had almost forgotten. He dropped the troll gem and hugged himself with his paws, sinking to the ground and pressing his knees to his chest. His eyes tried to close, but the young hunter knew he couldn’t give in, couldn’t fall asleep. No matter how cold it was, he had to hold on and stay awake. If he suddenly felt warm, it was just a trick, the cold wouldn’t just go away and...
It was over.
The she-wolf looked away, and the clouds of steam stopped escaping from the young hunter’s lips, while his paws returned to their original, pink color.
"It’s funny that you ended up here, lucky puppy, without even hearing-"
"But you called me here," Ardi interrupted her, and when the she-wolf turned sharply toward him, he dropped his claws and grabbed his mouth with both of his paws. But just like before, he hadn’t been able to catch his tongue in time.
Without removing his paws, he muttered, "Sorry."
The old hunter and Ergar had taught him never to interrupt, but sometimes, it was beyond his control.
The wolf lowered herself and sniffed.
"Can you hear me, child of a human female?"
She spoke without moving her mouth, but Ardi heard every word clearly, even if he didn’t understand half of it.
"I am a snow leopard," the young hunter croaked, removing his paws from his mouth. "And I don’t know what humans are."
The wolf seemed to smile slightly, then leaned forward and touched Ardi’s forehead with her gem. He didn’t understand what happened next; one moment, he was sitting beside a giant she-wolf, bathed in the light of the Spirit of the Night, and what felt like a heartbeat later, he was lying beside a strange creature and the cave was filled with the light of the Spirit of the Day.
The wind was blowing, howling softly among the white stones and snowy patterns. The light in the ice and glass hut and the trees faded. And Ardi felt no threat or fear. He felt good and warm, like he was under... a blanket? Yes, that seemed to be what he had covered himself with in Ergar’s cave. The skins of goats and ibexes, sewn together, were called blankets.
"Where is the wolf?" Ardi asked himself, rubbing his eyes.
He seemed to have just finished a good rest, which was a rare occurrence. Not as rare as a true and honest answer, but... Wait. How did he know that an honest answer was a rare thing?
Never mind, those were thoughts for another day.
The creature beside Ardi smiled and ran her claws through his hair. Yes! It was hair, not fur. It grew all the time, and Ergar would cut it with his claws to keep it out of his face. Right, he had a face. And...
Ardi raised his paws... no, his hands. Yes, his hands! He had hands and feet! Just like the one sitting next to him. Only his hands looked more... hand-like, while hers were covered in fur, and were more like strange wolf paws. Both her hands and feet were like that, or rather, her front and back legs, or perhaps it would be better to call them her upper and lower paws?
Her muzzle, or face... resembled what the young hunter had seen in his reflection in streams and lakes, and yet they’d retained clear wolf features: a long nose, thick fur, high-set, long ears, and small eyes that were no longer icy, but bright blue.
But what intrigued Ardi the most was the strange skin the wolf wore. It fell across her shoulders, over a collar made of a material unlike leather or animal fur. And she wore... a medallion? Yes, that seemed right. Around her neck was a chain with a medallion hanging from it. Her long hair — or fur? — had been arranged into two long braids that hung down.
In the center of her forehead, the blue gem was still shining, and now it was set in... What was it again... Oh yes, a tiara. The gem was sitting in the center of a tiara.
"How do I know so many new words?" Ardi asked himself instead of his new companion.
"I think Ergar may have overdone it when trying to make you something that you’re not, little pup," her voice was both animalistic and not. She still didn’t move her lips when she spoke. Yes, the young hunter was sure of it now — the giant ice wolf and this strange creature were one and the same... m-m-m... One and the same something! "I didn’t take away all his words — they’re not mine, and you’re not my apprentice — but still, I think this is better."
Ardi straightened, stood up, and jumped slightly. His body didn’t hurt, and his head no longer felt like it wanted to fly off his shoulders and follow Kaishas’ paths.
"I also saw that Shali and Guta have taught you some things," the... she-wolf continued. He chose to think of her as the she-wolf for now.
"You could see that?" Ardi turned to her. "Where?"
"In your dreams," her lips curved into a friendly, warm smile. "You have beautiful dreams, little one. I watched them all night."
"All night..." Ardi looked at the mark the Spirit of the Day had left in the sky above. "My teacher-"
"He will come here soon," the wolf interrupted him, making Ardi’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets. The older animals never interrupted others and-
"Those who can hear and speak often interrupt when they should be silent," the she-wolf almost seemed to be reading his thoughts, emphasizing those last three words. "It’s the price we pay for our gift."
"A gift," Ardi looked at his hands and where his tail should be. "I would rather be an ordinary snow leopard than someone special."
"And you will have that right one day."
"Really? Truly?"
"Of course," the wolf nodded. "When five cycles blossom and the time comes for you to choose your path, you can remain among the mountain hunters and become what Ergar once was."
Ardi’s heart beat faster.
"Could I really become like my teacher?"
The she-wolf nodded again.
Ardi almost danced with joy. Somehow, he knew as clearly as the Spirit of the Night follows the Spirit of the Day every evening that the she-wolf wasn’t lying and was speaking the truth.
"We spoke about your friends. In your dreams, I didn’t see if you learned well from them," she held out a paw and invited him to sit down. Ardi, calming down and remembering his manners, sat down beside her. "Will you tell me about your efforts?"
At any other time, he would have just used Ergar’s fang and then sat in silence, waiting for him, but right now... He felt warmth and peace. He knew that no matter what happened, the she-wolf wouldn’t hurt him, maybe even the opposite.
"Well," Ardi lowered his gaze. "I can navigate the forest streams, which Shali taught me. But I can’t always tell one animal’s tracks from another’s. And... I try to run as fast as they do, but I can’t. Shali says I’m making progress and getting faster, but I know she’s just trying to keep me from getting upset."
"I see... and with Guta?"
"With Guta... I’ve learned how to breathe properly, to stay calm in dangerous situations, and how to hold my breath underwater for a long time. I can easily catch fish and climb any tree, but... I can’t even lift a stone half my weight. Guta promises I’ll make it one day, but he’s like Shali. They both love me very much."
The wolf smiled again and ran her warm, soft hand through Ardi’s hair a second time.
"And what about Skusty?"
"Skusty?" The young hunter repeated. "He’s always playing tricks, swearing, lying, and making things up, but..."
"But you get along best with him?"
Ardi nodded.
"He teaches me how to hear what others don’t, to see what others can’t, and... I think I do... Sometimes, of course. Not always. But I manage. Like that one time when I almost got lost, but an old maple showed me the way. I told Shali I was using her lessons so as not to upset her, but... Skusty wasn’t even upset. He knew right away what was going on. Or like when a fast river current almost swept me away once, and I wished so much to be back on shore without calling for help, and a moment later, I was back on shore. Guta was proud because he thought I had overcome the river, but I hadn’t. I don’t really understand what happened."
And Ardi told her more of these stories. Stories he hardly believed himself, stories about all these oddities and strange quirks of the forest streams that, back at Ergar’s cave, had seemed like a distant dream.
But now Ardi realized that they had just been forgotten.
It was a strange feeling, being able to remember something that he’d once known, but had then somehow forgotten.
"Have you ever tried to speak?"
"I talk all the time. Ergar even gets angry about it sometimes."
"I don’t doubt it," the wolf chuckled. "That old cat loves silence... but I meant something else. Have you ever tried to speak the way Skusty teaches you to hear?"
Ardi pondered. He understood her question, but the answer was complicated. And... a bit painful.
"Sometimes... on especially dark nights, when the moon is just beginning its dance, I have a dream," Ardi clenched his fists, looked at his feet, but saw a hazy vision there instead of stones. "A scary dream... I don’t like it..."
"Can you share it with me?"
Ardi didn’t want to, but... The she-wolf had been so kind to him that it would’ve been rude to refuse.
"Everything is on fire, but not the kind that falls from the sky in a storm. A different fire. And something is burning. Something very important. But I don’t know what it is. And I’m very angry. A lot angrier than when Skusty’s pranks go too far. And I wish someone harm... even death," Ardi added hastily, "but please don’t think I’m mad or bloodthirsty! I only hunt when I am hungry, I never take more than I need, and I follow all the hunting laws and-"
"I don’t doubt it," she covered his shoulder with her furry hand. "Ergar taught you well. If your pack still roamed our paths, they would be proud of you. You are a worthy hunter, Ardan."
Ardi was startled.
"How do you know my full name?" He asked cautiously.
"I can give you an honest and sincere answer, but only if you answer my question," the she-wolf explained almost hopefully. "Not because I don’t want to, but because I can’t."
Ardi gathered his courage, nodded, and continued.
"At the end of this dream, I’m so filled with rage and hatred that... I call upon the fire to devour and destroy whoever is hidden within the flames."
The she-wolf froze, not even breathing.
"And it answered your call?"
"I-"
Ardi’s reply was drowned out by a fierce roar that shook the stones.
"So, Your Highness," Skusty grinned smugly. "You called Ardi to the Mountain of Memory. Brothers and sisters, if I remember correctly, and sometimes old Skusty forgets, mind you... Like when I put that acorn in a hole once and then spent the whole season looking for it-"
"Skusty," Guta rumbled.
"Oh, right, sorry," the squirrel slid down from his furry perch and stood beside Ardi, reaching up to his waist. "It seems to me, Your Highness, like you were being a bit deceptive."
"The Fae, and especially we Sidhe, cannot lie," Atta’nha reminded him.
"But your truth is still more deceptive than any lie," Skusty waved dismissively. "You heard Ardi’s name on the wind. And you probably heard it when he first descended into the forest flows and helped Lenos’ cousin."
Lenos’ cousin? So that’s why that stubborn goat had come to his rescue! That doe was a distant relative of the Guardian of the Southern Gates!
"And when the pup," Ardi didn’t bother to point out that he wasn’t a pup but a hunter, "found himself near the walking stones, you sent a mountain troll to him, whose gem I now see in the rascal’s hands. Well done, Ardi, well done — you outwitted a mindless bunch of stones. I can be proud to-"
"Skusty!" Guta boomed again, but this time more insistently.
"Oh? Oh! Right..." The squirrel cleared his throat and continued. "And you probably sent the storm, too, so that Kaishas would hide the foolish Ardi in that crevice. But you didn’t expect that the call would bring not the last Matabar to you but... our naive half-breed."
Half-breed? What did Skusty mean when he called Ardi a half-breed? Maybe that he was half-Matabar and half-snow leopard? Maybe that was why he didn’t fit into either of the two tribes?
"And since I, as you just now reminded Ergar, keep our stories, Your Highness, I would like to remind you that you have the right to take those who can Speak only if they belong to the ranks of the Matabar," Skusty shrank to a small size and deftly jumped right onto Ardi’s head and patted him on the forehead. "And here is only half a Matabar. Shall we measure him and divide him up?"
For a moment, Ardi thought the wolf would turn into a beast and tear him in half, but that didn’t happen. Instead, she leaned over to Ardi and put her hand on his chest.
"I understand why Ergar wasn’t meant to be your teacher," she said softly but firmly. "It takes a brave heart to run among the snow leopards. Yours is not like the brave warriors’ hearts, but... it is kind. Even too kind... And that helps you fight fear."
The Sidhe moved her hand from his chest to his eyes, then to his ears, and finally, to his lips.
"But your eyes, ears and mouth, born between two tribes, see, hear, and speak the languages of both packs. Half-breeds are not rare, little one, but all too often, one side overpowers the other. In you, they somehow coexist together."
Ardi frankly didn’t understand what was happening or what the strange she-wolf was talking about, but... He didn’t feel threatened by her. She was warm and soft, and smelled of snow and trees, almost like... almost like...
Something hot burned his cheeks, and the feeling that he had forgotten something important returned to his mind. Maybe it was just a dream. Or a dream about a dream.
Atta’nha leaned in even closer and whispered so that only Ardi could hear her.
"When the time comes to choose your path, little Speaker, listen to no one but your own heart. Not the forest, not the animals, not the mountain, not the birds, not the river, not the lake. Only you should choose who you are, kind child."
Ardi looked up in confusion and met the she-wolf’s eyes, reading in them, as Skusty had taught him, what others did not see. The Sidhe had never intended to fight his friends. She would never and could never harm them. For how could a mother harm her beloved children? No, everything that had happened, everything she had done, had been for one purpose.
To test him.
She had also been testing him when she’d led the Ley-Poisoned wolves to his scent. She had delayed the birth of the little fawn and then, a season later, made Lenos’ cousin come to the waterhole at night. She’d led him along the earth path to the distant grove where she’d lured in the troll. And then she’d led the troll to the baby bears. Just to test him.
"But-"
"Walking the paths of my children," she interrupted him in that same whisper, "requires a strong body, a brave heart, strong horns, quick paws, and sharp eyes, but to walk as I do... it requires only one thing, little Speaker — kindness. Though everyone understands it differently, without kindness in the heart, no one will respond to your words. And this is my sincere response. I heard your name seven full cycles ago when you first cried out to greet this world."
She finished with a wink — just like Skusty! — then addressed the animals.
"Ergar, Storm of the Mountain Peaks, will you allow me to visit your student on the third step of the moon dance and teach him for seven dreams how to Speak and Hear, how to heal ailments, how to calm restless dreams? I wish to teach him about herbs, fruits, water and earth, fire and wind."
The animals exchanged looks and whispered. Even Skusty seemed confused.
"But, Your Highness," for the first time that Ardi could recall, the squirrel spoke to someone with genuine respect. He even bowed! "Am I to understand that you want to teach Ardi the Art of the Sidhe? That’s... Even when the Matabar pack was countless, the secrets of the Sidhe were never passed on to those who hadn’t sworn themselves to the Queens and renounced their mortal fate. You only taught those you took to the Fae!"
"Yes," Atta’nha replied calmly. "You got that right, Skusty, Sage of the Tree Crowns."
Skusty? Skusty was a Sage? It seemed like today’s surprises couldn’t get any more shocking.
"If the teacher of the little Speaker permits it, I will teach Ardi for seven paths of the Spirit of the Day, each moon dance, for five full cycles and one day. No more, no less. And only his mind and his heart will determine what he can learn."
She struck the ground with her staff, and the ringing that filled the cave seemed to bind her words with an invisible seal.
This time, all eyes turned to Ergar. Ardi, struggling a little, did the math. If he spent the last seven arrivals of the moon dance in the forest streams, and before that, seven of them with Atta’nha, that meant that he would have only... half of them left to practice with his Master?
But how... That was...
"So be it, witch," the snow leopard snorted. "Your seven dreams begin today. Make sure the cub returns to me on time." Then he turned and jumped out of the cave.
The rest of the animals, bowing or saying a few words in parting, disappeared one by one. Only Skusty, who lingered for a moment, looked at Ardi, then smiled at him and slipped away along paths that only he could see.
Soon, the young hunter was left alone with the strange wolf.
Ardi felt a sharp pain in his chest.
"Don’t be upset," she whispered. "Your teacher will calm down soon."
"It looks like he’s angry with me."
"With you?" She smiled like the Spirit of the Day smiled in the morning, joyfully greeting the inhabitants of the Alcade. "No, silly child, Ergar is not angry with you, but with the humans."
"And who are these humans?"
"Oh, Ardi, one day, you’ll have to find that out for yourself."
"And you won’t answer me?"
"I wish I could, little Speaker, but not all questions have answers."
"And why not?"
Atta’nha ruffled his hair and led him to the ice hut.
"Let’s start with something simple, shall we? Maybe... what do you know about the root of the Seven-Colored Nettle?"
"Is there such a thing?"
The wolf stopped abruptly and looked at him the way Ardi had sometimes looked at Skusty when he didn’t understand if the squirrel was joking or not. When Atta’nha realized that the young hunter was absolutely serious, she sighed and covered her face with her paw.
"Oh, Sleeping Spirits..."
***
And so his adventures came to an end for the most part. Ergar didn’t really stay angry for long — only two seasons. During that time, their conversations could be counted on one hand, but he still diligently taught Ardan hunting and other skills. By the fall, everything was back to normal. Sometimes they would argue, they’d often play in the snow, and in the evenings, they would watch the stars while his teacher told him stories about the Matabar and the ancient Kingdom of Ectassus, whose borders had stretched beyond the horizon.
Reluctantly, he would let Ardi go to the forest streams. Along the way, the young hunter would sometimes meet Kaishas and occasionally, perhaps a few times a season, Lenos. The latter would bring him special flowers, and Kaishas would teach him how to navigate by the stars and winds.
In the forests, Ardi would race with Shali, learning about the tracks of different animals; he’d swim, climb trees, and drag boulders — or in Ardi’s case, small stones the size of a young rabbit. And even then, he couldn’t lift them, he just pushed them along the sand — with Guta, listening to his advice on the importance of proper breathing and a hearty meal. And as always, Skusty would teach him how to see the extraordinary in the ordinary. And these lessons helped Ardi a lot.
They helped him with the most interesting — not that he would ever tell the others that and hurt their feelings — new part of his life. As promised, seven dreams before descending into the forest streams, Atta’nha would come for him. She’d hold his hand, and together, they’d walk through the snow that would take them from the threshold of the cave to their home at the top of the Ice Fang in a matter of minutes. Or, as it was more properly called, the Mountain of Memory.
It was called that because those strange stones had turned out to be petroglyphs — a terribly complicated word. They’d been left behind by Ardi’s ancestors to preserve the paths and ways of the Matabar. The wolf always told Ardi many interesting things about history, and he never failed to listen to her with his mouth wide open, but deep inside, he was expecting other lessons from his new friend.
Sometimes, they went to her home, the ice shack. There, she taught him how to read and write in the language of the Fae. She showed him scrolls and books, and allowed him to take some back to the cave. Sometimes, the contents of the books gave Ardi a headache, so incomprehensible were they, but sometimes, they opened up new venues of knowledge for him as well.
Atta’nha had called that "theory."
Followed by "practice."
Together, they would explore the forestflows, where she’d teach him about roots and flowers, trees and stones, animals and birds, streams and lakes, insects and fruits. She’d often demand some knowledge from Ardi, because he’d had a chance to get it from the books. To his credit, the young hunter would almost always manage to answer her questions. He loved to sit on the cliffs of the Stairs, swinging his legs above the clouds, and read Sidhe books.
He’d learned many things that had previously been hidden from him that way. For example, how to make medicine from the root of a burning berry and birch sap that could reduce fever. Or what uses there were for water from a stream that had flowed eastward on the third day after the moon dance had begun under the light of the red star — not a common occurrence, but such water had special properties.
If you crushed a wood beetle in it, added a bit of the common fly agaric’s stem, and infused it with fern leaves, drinking such a potion would make you see as clearly in the night as Ergar and Shali. Ardi had tried to make the potion a few times, but... the first time, he’d grown donkey ears — Atta’nha had laughed heartily, but then turned them into butterflies that had flown away — and the second time, he had been able to see perfectly at night but had grown nearsighted during the day, like an old mole.
Fortunately, the effect of that particular potion had only lasted one path of the Spirit of the Night and half a path of the Spirit of the Day.
But even this knowledge couldn’t compare to the most impressive thing that the wise she-wolf had taught him. Sometimes, they would go to the simplest grove, sit back to back, and... listen. They’d listen to the trees creaking and their crowns swaying, whispering in the wind; the grass gossiping, filled with the sounds of crickets, grasshoppers, and other unavoidable inhabitants of theirs. Sometimes, they’d walk in the rain, immersed in the melody of the raindrops weaving a pattern across the forest and resting from tiring days. They had also climbed high into the mountains, where the cheerful wind had greeted them with legends and stories of wondrous lands hidden by the mists of the ghostly horizon.
Once, they’d gone to a mountain lake filled with liquid flame instead of water — it had warmed Ardi with a quiet, soft tale of times when the mountains had not yet risen from the hills and the valleys had not yet left the salty shores of the oceans.
Atta’nha would often praise Ardi for being able to hear one story or another if he listened carefully and remembered Skusty’s teachings as well, but she would also ask for more from him. She had asked him to, during a story, step deeper. To immerse himself in what he was hearing and to name the storyteller. But not the obvious one. The true one. Sometimes, he’d even managed to hear something like that, but whenever he would try to grasp this elusive knowledge, it immediately changed its form.
The wolf had told him that names were never constant. They always changed, acting as a kind of whirlpool in which Ardi had once nearly drowned. Only True Names were constant. But when you possessed such a True Name, it left a mark on your soul, and rarely did a Speaker, or rather, an Aean’Hane — those Speakers who knew a True Name — know more than one True Name.
Atta’nha herself, for example, knew only two such Names — Ice and Snow. She would try to teach these to Ardi most of the time, and the young hunter would work diligently to learn them, but cycle after cycle passed and he still couldn’t get it.
The wolf wouldn’t get upset, however, and encouraged Ardi to stay positive. Whenever he felt down, she showed him miracles. One day, she called a mountain stream by name, took a piece of shimmering liquid from its surface, wove snowy threads from the names of the clouds, summoned the wind, and it came to her, sharing memories and knowledge, which Atta’nha mixed into paints. When all preparations had been completed, she reached into the night sky, shook a grain of black powder from it, then shoveled in snow from the farthest and highest peaks of the Alcade.
Whispering something, the she-wolf took some cloth from a mountain stream, hemmed it with winter cloud threads, added a ruffle of white snow, and with the paints and night powder, drew a mysterious and beautiful pattern on it. A blue ribbon flowed out from under her fingernails.
She then wrapped all of this around Ardi’s right wrist and it became a bracelet. It was so light that Ardi couldn’t even feel it on his arm.
"Take care of that," Atta’nha tapped the young hunter gently on the nose. "It’s my farewell present to you."
"Farewell?" Ardi perked up in alarm. "But there are still two cycles and one day to go!"
The wolf smiled as she always did. Before, Ardi had seen only warmth and kindness in her smile, but now, he noticed a bit of mystery to it as well.
"Time runs differently for us, little Speaker."
And time did run, cycle after cycle. The lunar dances merged into a series of games in the forest flows, hunts along the mountain paths, and journeys with the she-wolf. All of this went on until one day, the mountains of the Alcade welcomed another autumn, followed by a snowy winter, marking the end of the sixth cycle of Ardi walking the paths of the snow leopards.