Frost Wolf by Kathryn Lasky Read Free Book Online

the Ring of Sacred Volcanoes. It is very much in order, and we are on a mission to go to the Blood Watch. To make sure it still stands and to fix it.”
    “Blood Watch.” The words seemed to rouse the Whistler. “You know Tamsen — she was sent to the Blood Watch, but she’s been gone for a moon or more now. I was sent out to find her. I thought I had found her track, but then I picked up another.”
    The speech had clearly exhausted the Whistler, but Faolan felt he had to ask just one more question. “Whose was that?”
    “Tearlach — I thought … I thought he might be onto something. He could hear so well.”
    “That’s exactly how we found him, Whistler — with his ear to the ground. We thought he had caught the hoof beats of a herd.”
    “A herd — or something else,” the Whistler said.
    “What else?”
    “The Whisperers,” the Whistler replied and slid his eyes to one side, almost as if he was afraid to say the words.
    “The Whisperers?” the other wolves asked.
    “You know the ringing rocks?” the Whistler asked.
    “Yes, of course,” Mhairie said. “Everyone knows about the ringing rocks. They are scattered all over the Beyond.But what do they have to do with anything?” Mhairie pressed.
    The Whistler paused before answering, as if gathering strength to speak. “In this strange weather, the rocks seem to whisper into the ground. They whisper if you scratch them with your claws. It’s a messaging system among certain wolves.”
    “Certain wolves?” Faolan asked.
    “Yes, desperate wolves. They don’t want to howl, for then all would know.”
    “But why? Are they stealing food from their clans?”
    “No … no, they are summoning Skaarsgard to … to … take them up.” The Whistler almost choked as he spoke.
    Dearlea’s eyes grew so immense that it seemed as if a green light suffused the dimness of the whelping den. “They are begging for death?”
    “Dancing for death,” the Whistler rasped.
    “What?” The four wolves were so astonished they could hardly utter another word. Edme tossed her head as if attempting to shake off what she’d heard.
    “Have you seen it, Whistler?” Faolan asked.
    “No, but the rumors fly about faster than owls — and owls, by the way, have seen it. I’m sure,” the Whistler replied.
    Faolan shut his eyes tight. How he wished he could find Gwynneth. He could not count the moons since he had last seen her.
    The Whistler continued. “I haven’t seen it myself, but I’ve heard about it. I met up with Creakle about a moon or so ago. There’s a lot of it down in the MacDuff territory. You know how superstitious they have always been.”
    Edme wrinkled up her face in thought. “Are you sure that it could not have been some way of trying to call the herds? You know, hearken them to their summer feeding grounds?”
    “They weren’t calling herds, Edme. They were calling Skaars, and that is what they call themselves — Skaars dancers. The dance is spreading and the wolves are dying, dying because they exhaust themselves.”
    “But how does the messaging system work?” Edme asked.
    “They scratch on the rocks to send out a message that calls to the Prophet.”
    “Prophet?” Faolan asked. “What prophet?”
    “They think this prophet is some sort of link on the Great Chain between earth and the ladder of Skaarsgard.”
    “What?” The four wolves were aghast. This was getting worse and worse.
    “You can’t tinker with the Great Chain. The Great Chain
is
the Great Chain,” Mhairie blurted out fiercely.
    Edme spoke with a sharp edge to her voice. “Gnaw wolves know this better than anyone. Our first task when we return to our clan is to start gnawing the Great Chain on bones. On average, a gnaw wolf has gnawed one thousand bones with the Great Chain by the time he gets to the Ring. Let me assure you there are no links to be added or subtracted. To do so would be grounds for immediate expulsion from the Beyond. There is no