“The region directly surrounding the agency has not been home to common wolves in decades, if not longer. There is a pack of tree wolves that have built their territory here, and they guard it jealously. Though tree wolves are known to prefer more heavily forested regions, the agency began a program some twenty years ago to help them settle at the peripheries of civilization. Why? Unlike ordinary wolves, tree wolves will not hunt livestock.”

~ Bek Trent, M.A.S.O

What she felt in those short hours with Cara, Silver had never experienced before. Fatigue, soreness, and a bittersweet certainty that she stood on the precipice of her new life lingered with her all morning. She had the sense she and the wolf would be departing soon. She also had the sense that the small village where the river spirit had dropped her would never be the same after her coming, though she knew that was due to the dragon eggs rather than her. There was a part of her that was still unsure about going with the beasts rather than returning to the MASO, but every time the dragon eggs shifted in the pack at her back, she looked towards the wolf and saw the light of hope in its jade eyes.

Even knowing nothing of the conflict between beasts and men, she knew that Cara was right, and the eggs must remain with the beasts.

Eventually, Cara left Silver to collect their lunch, asking only that Silver carry a few crates of wheat flour and corn into the house. Wordlessly, Silver shouldered the work of sliding the small wooden boxes from beneath the canvas, ignoring the continued jeers from the crows and the twinges of pain from her neck and shoulders. When she had dropped the last of them off, Cara handed Silver a broom and sent her back to sweep, which was fine with her. She was happy, strangely, to spend the day more or less in solitude with the wolf and some wayward crows for company. She was also content to remain where she was – to leave before she was turned away would mean something more to her than being sent into the forest; it would mean taking the first step of her own volition.

Silver had just begun the slow process of sweeping the dirt from the barn floor when she heard the crunch of boots in snow. With a quick glance in the direction of the crows, who had fallen eerily silent, she crept to the edge of the open barn door and peered out. The wolf’s hot breath on the palm of her hand told her she was not alone.

Past the house, in the direction of the road, she saw three figures moving swiftly through the snow. She clearly recognized at least one of them; Rayori. Then the two men must be Lieno and the family’s son, possibly the young man they had called Gilgrin. She narrowed her eyes, glaring at the hands they held clasped across their chests, as if carrying something light, but bulky.

“What are they carrying?” she whispered softly to herself.

“Nestlings.” Silver twisted her head sharply back, startled by the sudden, choking caw of a crow in the rafters, and sucked in a breath as her head began to throb. A more meaningless, but recognizable chortle followed as she stared up at the sleek, black-feathered form of the crow perched several feet above her on the barn door.

“Ice bird’s nestlings eaten by shadow beast. Nestling shells,” it cawed again, cocking its head and regarding her with its ever-clever, beady black eyes.

“You mean they’re carrying egg shells?” she asked, momentarily disregarding the oddity of the conversation or the revelation that it was not only the larger beasts that could speak comprehensible sentences. A blank stare from the little bird was all she received.

Sighing, Silver turned her attention back to the figures moving quickly towards the front door; if her conversations with birds and rats and who-knew-what were doomed to be cryptic and largely one-sided, her ability seemed likely to do more harm than good. By the time Lieno had disappeared and she looked back up, several of the crows had come to perch directly above her head.

“No wings to fly,” one sang softly. Mocking though the comment sounded, the bird’s intentions seemed more benign. It shuffled forward and peered just as she was doing at the house. More harsh laughter filtered down from the rafters in the barn.

“Nonsense, nonsense,” one of the birds chortled and more took up the call quickly, as if enjoying the repetition of a favorite word.

“Humans rule earth, dragons rule sky.”

“Stars the heavens,” caught on another of the crows, looking over at her and at the wolf as it croaked solemnly.

“So humans don’t fly,” cawed a third.

Silver stared at them in disbelief, not quite sure she understood what they were saying, and not sure whether she dare intrude on the conversation. She decided to intervene quickly only when one of the crows made a rather rude comment about her being the fattest chick they had ever seen, and thus, even with wings, she would not fly. Her retort was almost unthinking, and was greeted with more fitful cawing and then a curious silence broken by the stares of many beady black eyes.

“Told you she speaks,” croaked the crow nearest to her, who had taken up the farthest perch from the barn, and remained where it stood while the guffawing continued.

“Magic,” one of the others cawed loudly, then, “They come.”

“Coming, coming,” several of the crows picked up the word, cawing loudly as they stared down at her.

“They’re good for corn.”

“Always corn.”

She was about to ask what they were talking about when the crows suddenly leapt skyward all at once, and disappeared through the barn door in a flurry of flapping wings and black feathers. As it was, she could only guess. Cara had said dark forces stirred in the depths of the forest. The crows seemed to be aware of it as well.

“Ignore them,” the wolf huffed from beside her, “for frighteningly intelligent creatures, they rarely say anything useful.”

Shrugging noncommittally at the beast, Silver turned back to the barn and set the broom up against a wall to rub the chill from her fingers, staring at her handiwork. If possible, the air was dustier than before, but at least the ground was clear. The light from the single window filtered down into it as if through a haze, singular and piercing, and stained red by the rays of the setting sun. The light sparkled off the falling dust, reflecting into the air so that it looked like beads of frozen fire drifting slowly to the earth. She was still staring upward when she felt a gaze on her face, and turned her head very slowly to the doorway.

There stood Cara. But the expression on her face was anything but what Silver would have expected. The gentle smile was there, yes, but there was such a great sorrow within it that she was taken aback. The woman’s blue eyes had grown bright, her rust hair wreathing her shoulders in a misty veil. Her eyes were all for Silver.

It was as if she had seen a ghost.

And then the strange expression was gone from the woman’s face. Cara flashed her warmer smile and surveyed the barn.

“If possible, I believe it’s dirtier than when we started.”

Silver stared mutely.

“Thank you, Silver.” Several seconds of silence passed, and the woman walked slowly into the barn, staring up at the window through which the fiery red light bled into the barn. Silver followed her gaze, but shortly thereafter realized that, once more, the woman was staring at her face. “The same eyes,” the woman said softly, as if by way of explanation, “How many more times will I see them like this, I wonder.”

Silver could not help but return the woman’s gaze uncertainly as Cara regarded her for a long moment.

“My magic allows me to see many things,” the woman continued then, “though not as much as I would like. A great weight rests on your shoulders. And I think…” Cara lifted one hand slightly as if to touch her, and then dropped it again, “you seem to be feeling better.”

Silver nodded slowly.

“Your trials are only beginning. You and Elorian, both. Hold tight, Silver, to the things that make you human. Hold tight to what you love, and to what you believe is right. Be assured also that you are very much not alone. Soon enough, we will all share in this fate of yours.”

“Fate?” she asked softly.

Cara watched her musingly. “The world is changing. People no longer fear magic. Perhaps that is only because they’ve ceased to believe in it, but I believe it is because more and more normal people are discovering that magic users live in their cities, their towns, even their homes. They’re greeting this discovery warmly, rather than with fear. It may be because of the rise of technology, the sense that whatever our powers may be, science can equal them. Whatever the cause, the MASO is not all that stops magic wielders from doing both great and terrible things anymore. But that doesn’t mean things will go smoothly from here forward, even if we can avert disaster in our relations with the beasts.”

“You don’t seem very fond of the MASO,” Silver observed.

“The MASO is our friend and enemy both. Our magic is our weakness,” Cara said softly, “We often say that we must use magic to live our lives, but never be consumed by it. That does not mean we can live our lives without it. Thus there must be rules, and those who would enforce them.”

Cara paused once more, before continuing with a glance out of the barn.

“The alpha of the tree wolves is a beast by the name of Zien. Elorian is one of their pack, and tonight, you two will go with them. Trust in them, Silver. To help you, I have a few things…” The woman reached into a deep pocket in her simple dress and withdrew her hand with a soft, carefully braided rope coiled in her palm.

“This was mine as a child. In a way, it has always been meant for you, I think. I have given it some will of its own, but one that you can control, for now – it has been spelled with a powerful binding circuit to use against the Zara. Zien will know how to help. And also,” the woman revealed a neat stack of clothing from behind her, and placed it in Silver’s hands. “Some of Rayori’s old things. They are better suited to this weather, and to keeping you and your magic hidden. There are gloves as well, and boots by the door. We can’t have you getting frostbite out there.”

“Thank you.” Silver took the proffered clothing and stared at it for several seconds. “Can I ask one more question?” she finally asked.

“One more,” the woman agreed kindly, and Silver had the sense Cara was as conflicted about sending her with the beasts as Silver was about going. Against all reason, the thought comforted her.

“What are you planning to do now? I overheard what Lieno said to you the night we first spoke.”

Cara thought for a moment. As she did so, her thumb traced a thin path around the border of her dress. Unlike Lieno, she did not seem to think it was strange Silver had understood their conversation.

“The jishereanal happa, the great ice bird, is guardian of the Castle of Divides. Not long after we found you, the river spirit also led us to her…she was gravely injured, and her young had been hunted down by the Zara and killed.” Cara nodded sadly at the outrage in Silver’s expression. “I, and the people of Icthuria, hold the great ice bird in high regard, which is why Lieno went to care for her today. The intervention of the guardian bird only proves what I suspected already; the Zara have returned, united under a single cause. I only know the name of the one I believe leads them, a creature called Hess, at least by humans.”

“So, one of them was sent after me? That doesn’t—” Silver began, but Cara interrupted her.

“We don’t have much time, Silver. Let me answer your question. If the Zara are acting towards a singular purpose, it must be to end the Great Divide. As I told you, the Zara will bring war between men and beasts, and their existence alone could dictate the outcome. You can’t begin to imagine what they are capable of. There are many, many things I cannot tell you, because it would put all of our plans at risk – those plans might save everything magic users have worked towards for the past few centuries, and everything humanity has built since the Divide itself. Suffice to say Lieno and I won’t hide the secrets the MASO protects anymore. There’s too much at stake. That’s why you need to guard the dragon eggs, keep them safe until they hatch, and raise them with the help of the beasts.”

“And what is—”

“Silver,” Cara said, placing a hand on her shoulder and fixing her with an intense stare. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what you lost. I’m sorry I could give you only one day like this before sending you far away from everything you’ve ever known. I’m sorry for so many things. But I don’t believe the Zara were sent after you. Not yet, at any rate. The Zara are difficult to control, and the fact that you drew the eye of the one that hunted you has given us a fantastic chance. Most likely, it acted of its own accord. The wolf and Zien both will answer the rest of your questions.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Yes, I know,” Cara said more gently, “but that really doesn’t change anything.”

“Wait,” Silver pleaded as Cara moved as if to leave the barn. Silver slipped the thin rope into her pocket and started after the woman, who peered out into the snow beyond and then glanced back at her.

“Change quickly,” Cara said, “they’re here.” The wolf moved impatiently to stand at the barn door, likewise peering out into the falling night. Only when Silver began to slip on the new clothes that Cara had brought for her did the woman speak again. “Your strength cannot come from you heart alone Silver, or from anger. It has to come from knowledge, too. You have to remember that even when everything seems shrouded in darkness, there is light to be found. When things appear hopeless, you must dare to hope.”

When Silver was done changing, the woman watched her add her old clothes to her pack and join them at the open door of the barn before pulling her into an unexpected hug. A mysterious smile danced in Cara’s eyes, but did not quite reach to her lips.

“We’ll meet again, just as we’ve met before.”

Silver was puzzled. “Before now?” she asked softly. But the woman was walking away already, to the back door of the house. In a moment, Cara had disappeared inside and closed the door so that Silver was left alone in the cold.

Alone with the wolf.

For a moment, she remained unmoving. Though she could see little of it through the tree cover, the last fading light of day was being overtaken by reaching waves of deep blue from the east. Night sounds began to fill the darkened forest, still muted, clear in the stillness all about the two of them. The snow had slowed to a soft dust that rained like ash from the sky, etching strange shadows and silhouettes into her vision. Everything lay in shadows and darkness, unknown, unseen. For a moment, she had the sensation that the entire world had ended up like Bek’s face-down card in a deck of playing cards – if she only imagined it to be something else, she would wake to find out that it was.

“Come, human.”

Silver felt the words in the heat of the wolf’s gaze on her face. Elorian had stopped a few paces away, staring back at her through the lightly swirling snow. Tentatively at first, Silver followed towards the trees, her eyes straying time and again to Cara’s home, which looked like a forlorn cabin nestled at the outskirts of a small village of similar houses. Eventually, she turned to the trees with the feeling that she was leaving something behind forever, something that she desperately wanted.

No turning back.

Her heart beat a rapid tempo as she strode slowly into the trees behind the wolf. I could stay. She conjured up a thousand scenarios for what could happen if she returned to the MASO with the eggs after all. I could still go back. She stared at the wolf’s silvery back, the slow shift of its hide over the muscles of its shoulders. I could give all of this up, tell them I’m done with magic and everything else. Quietly search for any sign of my parents.

Whatever she might imagine for herself, she knew the truth. Everything she had ever known had come to an end. Cara had given her one more day, one day of the world she was leaving behind. But it was not the world she remembered. It was not hers.

When she turned away this time, it would be forever.

Abruptly, a hum of power tickled across her scalp and shoulders and was gone. A magical barrier, possibly the thing Cara had called the Veil. Whatever it was, it did nothing to stop her. The world simply hugged her tighter – crisp, strangely hollow night air, trees that seemed to lean in and whisper with waiting anticipation. Their branches intertwined overhead, the snow sifting gently down between the irregularly shaped gaps between them like shards of stained glass beneath the light of the moon.

“Elorian,” she called softly. The wolf glanced back, but did not slow. They appeared to be headed in the direction of a particularly large oak, its great branches pressing back the surrounding evergreens. “What did Cara mean? Do you know why the Zara would have come after me?”

“The Shadow’s Lament,” the beast growled, not looking back. “It is said that the beasts we call Zara are beings who gave themselves over to magic when their hearts and minds became broken. They are insane, driven onward by whatever has caused them to lament their own existence. If one were capable of controlling them, it would be one who held sway over whatever heart remains within them, perhaps one who knew what had caused them to lament and to be thus bound to this earth, defying and carrying with them death. The Zara have stirred, and their movements are coordinated towards some common direction, which means that such a one exists. He is the very same one who has begun to gather the beasts, offering them sanctity from the Zaras’ power, and also revenge on humanity. But in your case, you are pursued by a single shadow beast. It is most likely that you are the Zara’s lament.”

“What?” Silver asked incredulously. The wolf clacked its jaws in a gesture she took for displeasure, though she sensed it was directed at the Zara rather than her.

“This Zara knows you and also me. It called me by a name I had never heard, yet you also knew it; Elorian – the stars, the very light of the heavens. The beast knew what you would call me, and hunted you long before we met. What other reason could there be than that we are the objects of its ire, enough so to draw it away from the task it was given.”

“Which was?”

“The reason you are here,” a blood-chilling rumble sounded from overhead. Silver froze, eyes trained upwards into the shadowed boughs of the oak. There was a beast above them, partially obscured, but she could see enough to know that it was not much smaller than a cougar, and certainly no less lethal. It was clear, however, that the beast was no cat, despite its broad skull and the dangerous, regal glimmer of its predatory eyes. There was something canid in the shape of its skull and chest, and in the direction of its gaze. That gaze was not like the wolf’s – it held none of the kindliness or sincere caution of a creature that had walked among mankind and knew to fear them; it was the gaze of a beast that did not easily acknowledge an equal of any kind.

From Bek’s book, Silver recognized one of the tree wolves, with fur the color of amethyst and an expression of cold repose. It reclined in the tree, watching them as if from a favorite perch.

“This is the human, Elorian?” The wolf’s ears perked, and the beast above them grunted. “The stench of the MASO is heavy with her.”

“Stench?” Silver asked without thinking.

“The MASO, protector of magic and the lands once ruled by magic. There was a time when they were meant to bring peace, but they chose a bloody road – annihilate the beasts and there will be peace. That was their proclamation, seven hundred years ago. The mythical beasts will not forget. The humans have left that hateful building here, in our last safe haven, to protect mankind from magic, although hundreds of thousands of humans have forgotten that magic ever existed. Technology replaced it – logic replaced it. Do you wonder why there is no magic in the world? I’ll tell you. They drove it away for the sake of peace.”

“S-sorry,” she stammered, surprised and not entirely sure for what she was apologizing.

The lavender beast hissed deep in the back of its throat and its eyes flashed dangerously in the white light reflected off of the snow. Rage. Silver sensed it so sharply in the beast’s words that she recoiled from it.

“There is no fault with you. What do they call you, among men?” the beast growled. Silver stared at the beast for a moment, until it flicked one ear impatiently.

“Silver,” she said then. The beast’s tail twitched into view, two independent tips switching like a cat’s tail in the moonlight.

“Silver,” the beast purred. For once, it was an actual word, mangled by the creature’s elongated jaws and clumsy jowls. “Among your kind, they call me Zien, alpha of the tree wolves. We will abide by your name while you walk among us.”

“Thanks,” Silver said, not sure how else to respond. At the moment, she did not feel particularly ambassadorial.

“We require one to speak for us, human. The Zara have been set the task of collecting the Stones of Alti. These are magical artifacts, each powerful enough to change the tide of a war, and there are four scattered in this world now. Hidden. Protected. They were great treasures once, of a people who are no more. Dozens of replicas have been made, some quite convincing, and we know where many of them reside. One by one, the Zara have taken them.”

“So, do you know where the real ones are?” Silver asked. The tree wolf exposed its sickle teeth, making her instantly regret the interruption.

“Only one. We will go to where it is now, human. The stone they call The Dawn.” As soon as Zien said this, Silver realized she knew where at least some of the replicas had been. The article about the stolen necklace she had seen only weeks ago had mentioned four stones stolen from protected facilities. She highly doubted that most modern security measures would have prevented the Zara from taking anything. “Once we have it in our possession, you will go with us to trade with the vampires.”

At this, Silver felt herself pale. The wolf nudged her hand with its cold nose.

“W-what?” she stammered. The alpha of the tree wolves stood slowly, ignoring the swaying of the tree branch beneath its weight.

“Hess would turn beasts against man, and mankind will not be a friend to any of us whether or not we take their side. So, we will go to the vampires, who are more accepting of the mythical beasts.”

“What about, I don’t know, werewolves or some of the other—”

“Have you met a werewolf, Silver?” Zien’s over-long ears turned toward her, and for some reason, she thought there was a hint of amusement in the beast’s bright eyes. That look was probably the only reason she did not jump back when the beast leapt to the snow with a solid crunch.

“They have no history, at least not here. The vampires have sided with us before. I know what humans think of them, but you will need an open mind to be the voice of our kind. Beasts, also, will not all be so accommodating as I am. So long as you are among us, you will be safe. Now,” the beast turned away from her dismissively, and from the trees around them, two more tree wolves leapt to the earth. “These two are Pelorin and Cea. You may call on them if you have need. They are messengers and scouts, the most knowledgeable among us of matters concerning mankind, and skilled spellcasters no less. They will teach you all that you need to know. Follow them to our den.”

This, it seemed, was all that they were to be told. Silver and the wolf were left with their two silent escorts. For a moment, they scrutinized each other, she with a sense of trepidation, the wolf with more familiarity. The three beasts touched noses, and then the wolf glanced back at her as they moved deeper into the night.

Not far from the oak, they came to a hole in the earth that sloped very steeply and suddenly down. Silver watched incredulously as the beasts vanished into it one by one, and followed with a deep breath and a lurch of fear. Shortly after she had decided that wriggling in feet-first was a terrible idea and ducked in head first instead, she found level ground and a surprisingly open space. There was no light for her human eyes, but the wolf waited for her at the bottom, pressing its fur against her arms time and again until she got the hint to follow.

Whatever questions she might have had, they died on her lips at that point. It was silent underground, but she could feel the press of the tree wolves all around her. How many were there? The three she had seen, certainly, but how many more? In the dark, there was no way to tell.

And so, she settled into the night, too exhausted and nervous to do more than curl up against the wolf’s reassuring warmth and try to find comfort on the bare earth. Her pack she rolled up and clutched in front of her, reaching inside to run her fingers reassuringly across the smooth, dry shells of the dragon eggs. Zien had said nothing about them, but she thought the beast must know she carried them. Cara had made it sound like the beasts knew, anyway.

That night – the first night, as Silver afterward viewed it – was the hardest. The ground was hard, though not cold. Her surroundings were unfamiliar, filled with sounds that would normally have woken her from even a deep sleep. Her muscles were still sore, and no matter what position she chose, they only stiffened more the longer she lay in the dark. Through that long night, she slowly came to a realization that chilled her to the core as much as it comforted her; she would never have been content with a normal life. There would have never been peace for her, not in her heart nor in her mind. And the moment Bek told her that magic was real…the moment she had stepped foot in the MASO, taken the eggs from the cavern deep in the earth…traitorous though it felt, she only wished she could share it with her family.