As concocted in the Round Robin and chat sessions by Karen Bledsoe, Carol Scavella Burrell, Amy Valleau, James Barbera, Jerry Langworthy, T. Rose Simmons, Tavie Phillips, and Eric Mongrain. Edited and story-ized by Karen Bledsoe.

This tale was meant to be the first in a series of tales about the Troll Wars and the battles with the Sun Warriors. The Northern Trolls came south to raid the Grey Falls trolls and the Wolfriders as well. The Sun Warriors were in league with them, raiding the holt for the purpose of capturing a healer. The Sun Warriors had lost the power of Recognition and needed a healer to force Recognition with them. Cruel, ruthless, and human-like in their ways, the desert-born Sun Warriors took a terrible toll on the Grey Falls tribe. Many of the Wolfriders were killed, Stone was captured and tortured, and when it was all over, a group of tribemates left the ravaged holt for life in the desert holt of Fargazer's Rock. Unfortunately, only fragments of this long story cycle were recorded.

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Back cover art by Karen Bledsoe for The Grandfather Tree, vol. 1, no. 5, 1995. That's Wolfrunner in the lead, phantom Sun Warrior and Troll King looming overhead, and our beloved Grey Falls in the background (note the lovely double pools). 

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The scents carried on the night wind were strange and fearful to Moss as she peered out of the seldom-used tunnel entrance. Kruuk sometimes came and went this way, but the loner troll was shambling around in the deeper tunnels on a mysterious errand of his own. Hammertoe was busy gathering fire stone, along with the rest of their little clan. Moss, feigning illness, had stayed behind.

No one, not even Hammertoe, could know her errand that night.

It had been turns upon turns, long before the Wolfriders came, since Moss had last been out of her tunnels in any direction but her herb fields. A creature of habit, just the thought of veering from her usual paths set her heart pounding. The deed she must do made it positively thunder.

She stepped cautiously out of the hole, and tip-toed silently down the hill slope, clutching something small and evidently of inestimable value in her meaty hand. Scanning around, she picked out the path that would take her to the meeting place they had agreed upon.

When Moss reached the end of the trail, she drew in a breath for courage before she plunged into the dark, moist forest. Her own tunnels were darker than this, but never so alive! The very trees seemed to breathe upon her, and she shuddered. She crept soundlessly along a narrow, much-trodden path, veered to the right, and finally found the circle of redwoods that had been described to her. There, dancing in the moonlight, she spied a tall elf in blue, with ash-blonde hair streaming in the moonlight as she danced.

"Navah!" Moss whispered.

"Why, there you are!" Navah cried. "I thought you weren't coming after all."

"Hushhhh!" Moss warned. "I thought the others would never leave. Come, sit. There is much to tell you.

Moss plunked herself on a fallen bough, and motioned for Navah to sit beside her.

"What is it?" Navah asked, curiously. "What is so secret?"

"There isn't much time, so I will tell you right out." Moss opened her fist, and unfolded a small square of soft doeskin. In the center lay a length of ornately-worked gold.

"What's this?" Navah asked.

"A key!" Moss replied. "Do you know what a key is?"

Navah blinked. "I have an idea of it. Kaylamale said he used a key to rescue his bird. A key goes in a... a lock. A lock somehow holds something shut, and you need a key to open it."

"Yes! You are bright, for an elf," Moss said. "And this key," she contined, laying the object in Navah's hand, "opens a treasure. A great treasure. One valued by all elves that walk the land."

Navah laughed lightly. "Only trolls value treasures of gold. The only thing elves yearn for is... " Navah's face dropped. "You don't mean... "

"Yes, elf," Moss said. "The Palace. The trolls of the north walled it up and locked the door. This is the key that opens it. Take it, girl! Take it and hide it and tell no one but your chief! The northern trolls will kill for this. And they're coming! They will be here in a few short moons. And no matter what they tell you, I'm telling you it's the key they're after." She jumped up from the log. "I must go now. Promise me you won't tell anyone but your chief, and he must tell no one else. Promise me!"

"I promise," Navah said, sincerely. "But... will you be wanting it back?"

Moss looked at her with large, dark eyes. "I told you, girl, those trolls will kill for it. I believe they know I have it. They must never know that I have given it away. Never!" Moss hunched her shoulders against the chill night air and hurried off into the forest.

Navah watched as Moss retreated back into the forest. Her eyes narrowed as she she pondered the meaning of the troll's actions. Navah turned the key over a few times in her hand. She didn't sense any magic coming from it. The key was nothing more than a cold piece of metal, not at all like something that Navah would suspect would come from the palace. Navah thought that any palace artifact would have been powerful enough to sing to her soul.

She shrugged and wrapped it back up and dropped it into her satchel. Moss' friendship went far enough that Navah was willing to play whatever game the troll happened to be up to. But she shuddered at the talk of Northern trolls. Memories of the dark troll caves came flooding back. It would take a lot to ever get her to go back down there.

They had only been back a little while. There was still no sign of Wolfrunner and the others, gone so long in the frozen lands. Navah longed for Cathunter to come back, for she missed her sister. Oh, there were Firelark and Redmane, but the two of them were far too wrapped up in their lifemates and family to take notice of Navah's nagging worries about the coming future. Cathunter would understand. She always did. There was nothing more Navah wanted than to have Cathunter come tell Navah that her fears were unfounded and the holt at Grey Falls was in no danger.

But she had serious doubts such a thing would happen.

Navah jumped at a sudden sound. Willow let out a little yip and went running in the direction of the noise. Navah smiled as she watched the cub go. She won't be a cub much longer, Navah thought, for she was getting lanky and long, though still full of cub energy. Navah laughed as she barrelled straight into Eli. The older wolf looked at Willow with long suffering tolerance.

**That cub needs to learn how to hunt,** Ashes sent to her as he came out of the forest following his wolfriend. **Or she'll never be able to join the pack.**

Navah looked at Ashes stubbornly.

**She'll never join the pack anyway,** Navah sent back. She started to walk in his direction across the open meadow. **She is too small and would starve.**

**That is the way,** Ashes sent back. Navah looked shocked.

"Then I should starve too," she shot back as she got closer. "I never learned to hunt. Even Tilvah's given up on that."

Ashes smiled good naturedly.

"You're not a wolf," he told her. "It's different."

"It's not so different," Navah replied. And then relaxed. Sometimes it was hard to take teasing, even when it was meant in fun.

**Why don't we let them chase some ravvits,** he sent. **And we can watch the stars.**

Navah sent back an assent and took his hand. She would like that very much.

Snakecatcher was an angry elf.

As soon as she had woken up that evening, she had gone looking for Glow, her lovemate. But, as was becoming too typical, it seemed he had wandered off with Whitefox somewhere. As if Whitefox didn't have enough lovemates of her own, with Volann and Greywolf and all the others. As if Whitefox wasn't an elder and far too old to take Glow for a lovemate. Snakecatcher pouted. It wasn't fair. Glow was the only lovemate she was interested in having -- well, almost the only one. Duskwind looked interesting from time to time. But Glow was special, and besides, he needed her. Snakecatcher always made certain Glow was paying attention. Whitefox let him slip away and dream all night if he wanted to and walk into trees and off riverbanks and who knew what else.

Snakecatcher prowled through the Grandfather grove looking for a hunting partner. She didn't plan to tell her hunting partner that what she was really hunting was a certain pair of lovemates. She snickered to herself with a toss of her short curls. It would be mean to drop in on Whitefox and Glow unexpectedly, with a hunting party, wolves, and a few freshly killed carcasses. But it would be very, very funny.

Treesniffer hunched in the opening of his den, gazing thoughtfully up at the Grandfather Tree. His thoughts went to Horizon, Bristletail, and the rest of the party that went to the Ever-cold, gone this very long time. How many seasons had it been? Had three turns really gone by? And with Yharren and the other purebloods jockeying for chieftainship, and Greywolf doing his reluctant best to hold everything together, most everyone seemed to have forgotten about their absent tribemates. Those that did remember counted them lost, and howled for them as the tribe had howled for those slain a turn ago.

Whitewolf poked a lazy, furry face out of the den, and leaned up against Treesniffer. He sighed, and pressed close to her. It was good to be wanted -- needed, even -- in the holt. Too much had happened at the Holt in his absence: the crazy quest to the Northern lands to fetch a part of his life that was closed, a strange attack by what was poorly described as a wandering human tribe led by a strange elf, then the attack on the holt itself by renegade humans from the nearby village. Whenever he left it was crisis time at the holt. The next time, and surely there would be a next time, he would see to it that he was at the holt, where he should be. He would be one with the pack.

Whitewolf was warm and soft as he settled comfortably against her. Yes, the holt was home, and a good place to be. He was needed there. Gazing up at the stars that peeked, oh so rarely, throught the canopy, his thoughts wandered.

Snakecatcher stomped through the clearing.

Skyfire fairly snapped and leaped in the young Wolfrider's eyes. Grinding her white teeth, she barreled past, hardly noticing the lounging pair.

"I wonder what that was all about?" Treesniffer murmured.

"Sniff?" a voice said uncertainly. Kestrel lowered herself to the ground beside them. "Was that Snakecatcher who just stormed past?"

The half-Go-Back nodded, looking shrewdly in the direction of the fuming elf-maid.

Kestrel's eyes narrowed in thought and concern. "What's eating her now?"

"Chasing after Glow, perhaps." Treesniffer shrugged. "Who is probably with Whitefox, which would explain why Snakecatcher is acting like she has a hornet up her britches."

Kestrel's brow clouded. "Last I saw Whitefox, she was looking for Glow. But that was last night, and I haven't seen her since then."

Treesniffer chuckled. "You know Glow. He's always wandering."

"Glow, yes," Kestrel said. "But not Whitefox."

With a worried expression, she tried to reach the elder with a send.

There was no response.

Ashes and Navah sat quietly on a grassy knoll, away from the holt, overlooking the river. They sat in silence for a long time, watching the stars, watching Eli and Willow chase ravvits. For Willow, it was just a game.

"Navah?" Ashes asked quietly.

"Hm?" Navah turned to look at him. "What is it?" There was something in the tone of his voice that hinted that his thoughts were in turmoil.

"Those elves in the tunnels with the trolls," Ashes began. "Are they going to come back with the trolls? They spoke of trying to find Moss, and treasure."

Navah closed her eyes at the memories of that adventure. Flintwolf was doing fine now. Stone and the others had made it there in time to help him. There remained, though, the troubling thought of elves and trolls in alliance. Allied against whom? And for what purpose?

She opened her eyes to look up at Ashes. "You heard what they said?"

Ashes nodded.

"Can you remember?"

Ashes closed his eyes and sent his memories to Navah. Of hiding there in the shadows, fearing Flint would cry out and give them away, or that one of the wolves would not hold still, or that Navah would be found. He shared what he heard the trolls and the elves say. They had called themselves Sun Warriors.

Birch lay stretched out on a tree limb, staring absently at Shycloud below her. "I'm bored. Let's do something."

Shycloud yawned. "Let's take a nap."

Birch grabbed a redbark nut from her ammunition pouch and dropped it, aiming for Shycloud's mouth. "Wake up. I don't wanna sleep, I wanna DO something."

Shycloud opened her eyes just in time to dodge the falling nut. "Then go do something. Leave me alone." She rolled over acted as if she were sleep, snoring loudly and deliberately.

Birch wasn't fooled, but she knew Shycloud well enough to know that it was no use begging. Birch sighed and looked around. She knew which way Ashes had gone, but he'd had that look on his face that meant he was looking for Navah. Treesniffer and Kestrel lounged around the clearing, but Birch didn't know Treesniffer very well and Kestrel was rarely any fun. Not the sort of high-spirited mischief she had a hankering for, anyway. Well, she had never let not knowing someone stop her before. She swung out of the tree and started across the clearing, then nearly crashed into Snakecatcher.

"Get out of my way!" Snakecatcher snapped.

"Sorry," Birch said. "Where ya goin'?"

"None of your business." Snakecatcher stomped away.

Birch glanced over her shoulder at Treesniffer. He looked content enough, laying against Whitewolf in the doorway of his den. He would still be here tomorrow. This was too enticing to pass up.

"Everything's my business," she said, running after Snakecatcher.

Snakecatcher scowled at Birch as the young Wolfrider ran up beside her, but then she relented. She and Birch had been born close enough together to be called agemates, after all. And Snakecatcher had been spending so much time with Glow she'd practically forgotten they had any other tribemates their own age.

"All right," she told Birch. "Grab a spear and a wolf and follow me. We're going hunting."

"You look pretty burned up for someone who's just going hunting," Birch remarked. What's wrong?" Birch's generosity and goodwill sluiced away at Snakecatcher's anger.

**Glows been missing. And I know that elder, Whitefox has taken him off again. It's not like she doesn't have enought lovemate already - but does she need to take mine too?**

Birch sat back on her wolf, surprised, not having a reply.

"Ha!" Snakecatcher hardly broke stride. Her wolf padded up to her, catching her eager mood. "And that's why we're going to catch the biggest . . . anything we can find. Then we're sniffing out a silver-haired elder who should know better than to drag her lovemates way out into the woods." Her lips curled into a dangerous grin. "Today we're hunting fox."

*Fox? Ohhhh... * Playful joy sprinkled Birch's open send to Snakecatcher.

An unwitting smile pulled at Snakecatcher's mouth. *Actually, also a good sized kill - or at least one to feed us for the night. Maybe we'll cross someone's path. We'd have to share then.*

*Dinner first and then fox, just before dawn.* Birch sent back.

*Oh, I do love to hunt fox just before dawn. They are always so preoccupied in the dawn." Snakecatcher remarked deamily.

Treesniffer shrugged and smiled up at Kestrel, letting her worried comment slip past. True Snakecatcher was rilled about something, though what that something was he didn't particularly care. Snakecatcher was always riled about something, unless she was snuggled in the furs with Glow.

"How is Hilltop?" he asked.

"Better," Kestrel said. "Still feeling scared, but she'll get over that."

"Her arm was broken, then?"

"In two places. She was too daring out on that limb, flying around like a treewee, but I doubt she's learned her lesson. She'll be back at it again as soon as she's fully mended."

"Which is why Stone is standing guard over her, I suppose? To make sure she mends?"

Kestrel made a rueful face. "For now she wants someone with her, but someday she's going to resent the way he tries to protect her."

Snakecatcher's words to Birch drifted to them.

"Hunt?" Treesniffer said, sitting up. "Just two?" He reached for his spear. "Maybe I'd better go with them." He turned back to Kestrel. "Why don't you come, too? You've been cooped up with Hilltop, and besides, it doesn't hurt to have an expert on humans along on a hunt."

Kestrel looked doubtful, but Treesniffer didn't stop to wait for her to make up her mind. He trotted over to Snakecatcher and called out.

"Snakecatcher, if you're going on a hunt, I'd like to join you."

Snakecatcher ran her eye's up and down, appraising him with a sneer.

"I'm not looking for an expedition. Besides, what if we need to be quiet?"

Birch blanched at her comment. Stolid, Treesniffer smiled.

"Then, I suppose, I could show you how to move through the underbrush without making the noise of three cubs."

Snakecatcher glared back. She looked to Birch, climbed aboard her wolf-friend, and rode out of the glade. "Our quarry tonight is fox. Big, white ones. If you want a little sport, come along."

Treesniffer chuckled, and glanced back to see if Kestrel was coming. She had slipped up quietly behind him.

"Whitefox has been gone too long," the treeshaper said. "I can't reach her with a send. I'm coming with you."

With a swift send to her lifemate to say where she was going and why, she took up her bow and quiver and followed.

"Something's not right," Kestrel muttered. "I hope it's just my imagination playing tricks on me."

"It probably is," Treesniffer said, reassuringly. "You worry too much."

"Did you happen to mention any of this to Yharren?" Navah asked. She thought furiously about what Ashes had shared. Northern Trolls? Coming here? And what about those other elves? Who were they, and what was their interest in all this? Navah tried to quiet her trouble thoughts and looked to Ashes.

Ashes shook his head no, and Navah sighed deeply.

She knew Moss and her family of trolls were on the run from their kin. Moss had told her as much once the Grey Falls elves had discovered the troll family living nearby. There had been much relief when it was discovered these were some of the same trolls they had lived near so very long ago in another holt.

"He ought to be told," Navah said biting her lip. "With Sharpwit dead, and Wolfrunner still gone... "

"I didn't think he'd be interested," Ashes said, then added bitterly: "Besides, no one has made him chief."

Navah looked at him with surprise.

"Well maybe not chief," Navah said carefully. "But he does give our tribe a lot of leadership for now."

"He'll just say it's a troll matter and wave me off like a cub," Ashes told her.

Navah looked at her friend with sympathy. Yharren could be difficult sometimes, especially with the younger wolfriders. Ashes was young and rash; even Navah admitted that. But this was something that he needed to know. It was something that would affect their tribe whether he choose to acknowledge it or not.

"I will not talk to Yharren," Ashes said firmly. Navah touched his arm gently.

"You don't have to," she said. "I will."

Navah got up and brushed the grass and leaves from her legs and bottom.

"Watch Willow?" She asked. "Bring her back when she's ready?"

"You're going right now?" Ashes said with surprise. Navah nodded.

"I think we've waited too long as it is," Navah told him. "We must prepare for what ever comes."

Dark thoughts tumbled through Kestrel's tired head as she followed on the heels of Snakecatcher. With Yharren fairly panting for control of the holt, Greywolf doing his best to keep things going, and Wolfrunner off on a useless quest, her lifemate had been far more quiet and brooding than ever. He may say he was loyal to whomever was in charge at the moment, but it was plain to her, though Stone may hide it from the holt, that the the possibility of having a pureblood as chief galled him. It was the the Way of the wolves that the pack leader was the wolf who fought his way to the top, but the Wolfriders had always been led by the offspring of the prior chief, all the children of Anlari.

They'd had long talks in the furs all winter, talking well into dawn after Hilltop was snoring softly. And while Stone had gone over his biggest worries time and time again, Kestrel had contemplated her own concerns privately. What was happening in her lifemate's mind? Why did he spend more and more time alone in the forest diving deep into his own mind? Why, after all the time that had passed since his birth, did he show no more signs of face-fur than a faint silvery fuzz along his jawline? And why wouldn't he talk about his father any more?

Stone sullen, Hilltop racing toward maturity and becoming less controllable each day, now Whitefox was missing... what else would go wrong?

"Kestrel? What are you doing?" Treesniffer snapped, impatiently. "By the High Ones, you're putting me on edge!"

"This isn't right," she murmured.

Whitewolf stopped next to Kestrel and her wolf.

"What isn't?" Treesniffer asked. The hand gripping his spear moved back, bringing the spear tip down.

"A little defensive this evening, aren't we?" Birch chirped.

"Listen," Kestrel said, turning her head abruptly. "The drums. Can't you hear them?"

In the distance, the drums of the human tribe resounded.

"You can't hear them at this distance usually." Birch sounded surprised.

Kestrel shook her head. "Not the ordinary ones, anyway. Only the deep-bellied drums they use to call on their gods."

"What do they say, Kestrel?"

Treesniffer began to circle Whitewolf out, putting some distance between himself and the rest of the hunting party.

"I'm... not... " Kestrel drifted off. "I don't know."

"Do they deal with us?" Treesniffer asked, but then answered his own question. "No. They don't. Come on, let's put some distance between us and the human's lodges. Those drums always bother me."

Treesniffer turned away, uninterested in the humans, but still keeping his spear at the ready. Snakecatcher turned to Kestrel for a moment, but she too turned and followed Treesniffer. After a moment more, the other three quietly followed.

Time crawled along, the drums they heard faded into the night sounds as the party left the holt and the human village behind. As shadows they slipped through the night, looking for traces of the missing pair.

It was Treesniffer's turn to worry now. They were two nights away from the holt, and still following Whitefox's trail. Thus far they had found nothing more than an occasional footprint.

Spring was beginning to make way for summer, the day's heat was still lingering as the spring night bite lost it's teeth. Bats dodged and wove though the canopy, to the tune of the night insects.

Snakecatcher who was back in the front, halted the party by sliding off her wolf.

*Stop.* She sent back. She leaped from her wolf's back and stared eagerly at the ground.

As everyone came to a halt, and slid off their mounts to have a look at Snakecatcher's startling discovery.

*Something happened here!* She sent. *Look at all these tracks!*

Treesniffer studied them. *There were several elves here, that's for certain.*

*And fighting!* Snakecatcher added.

*But who was it? These are all elf tracks.*

"And not a Wolfrider, either," Treesniffer said, darkly.

"But these were," Whitewolf said, pointing at small set of prints leading into the apparent fray.

"Whose was this?" Birch held up a scrap of worked leather.

*Whitefox.* The sending from Whitewolf stopped everyone. Her briefly elfish thoughts were brittle, teetering on the edge of darkness.

"Who were the others?" Treesniffer stood in front of the pureblood turned wolf, who sank once again into the mindlessness that usually surrounded her.

*Let me try,* sent Kestrel.

"Won't do any good. I've tried." Treesniffer informed her.

"And that's supposed to reasure us. Right?" Birch smiled to take some of the sting out of the barb. Treesniffer's teeth flashed in a mock snarl back.

Kestrel turned back, "You're right Treesniffer. She doesn't even respond to a wolfsend."

Treesniffer stroked his shapechanged companion. "What she went through -- I don't have the words, but it affected her mind more than anything I've seen before. Sometimes she's as normal as you can expect a pureblood to be, but usually, she's less than even a wolf."

"Whitefox is in trouble, that's for certain, and Whitewolf must sense something in that which set her off. I wonder what it was?"

Before Treesniffer could answer, a beastly scream split the night. The party turned as one to see a Longtooth bound into the clearing. It leaped at them recklessly, slashing at Snakecatcher, knocking her to the ground. Treesniffer thrust his stabbing spear, catching the big cat on the flank. It turned, releasing the bleeding Snakecatcher, and glared at Treesniffer. Its huge muscles bunched as it prepared to spring, but a volley of arrows from Kestrel and Birch cut short its leap. The Longtooth gave a gurgling sigh as it sank lifeless to the ground.

The hunters gathered around Snakecatcher.

"I'm still alive," she murmured, with a sickly smile.

"Can you mend her?" Kestrel asked, turning to Treesniffer.

The half Go-Back was looking thoughtful as he laid his hands on Snakecatcher long enough to slow the bleeding. "Press this on the wounds," he said, tearing a strip of leather from Snakecatcher's ruined tunic. "I want to look at the cat." He got up, despite Kestrel's protests, and knelt by the dead Longtooth. Birch followed him, looking on curiously.

"Look at its mouth!" Birch exclaimed, pointing at the foam that gathered there.

"Don't touch it!" Treesniffer warned. "It's the foaming sickness. I thought that might be why the cat jumped at us like that. It was out of its mind." He looked back at Snakecatcher. "I can slow her bleeding and ease the pain, but I don't know if I can stop the madness. Stone probably could, but he's not here, and he'd have to get to her in time anyway."

Birch shivered. "How long does she have before it affects her?"

"The closer the bite is to the head, the less time it takes for the pain and madness to take over."

"It bit Snakecatcher on the shoulder," Birch pointed out.

"I know. I'd guess she has two or three days."

"We're only two days out of the holt," Birch said brightly. "We can get back in plenty of time."

"Two days of hard riding by fit hunters. How long will it take us to get back?"

Birch's face fell.

"Stranger still are these." Treensniffer pointed to three bright red gashes on the side of the Longtooth. "We're not the only ones who have encountered this cat. Someone else is out there, perhaps dead or wounded. Someone else who wounded the cat, but didn't kill it. Could be Whitefox. And if she was attacked by it but couldn't kill it, it could very well have killed her."

"We'll have to look," Birch said, with a touch of sadness.

"You see now that life isn't all fun and games. The stupidest things can cut it short in an instant." Treesniffer rose from his knees and strode back to Snakecatcher, leaving Birch to contemplate his words.

Snakecatcher lay on the soft earth as Treesniffer knelt beside her. She looked up at him with steady eyes. "It's the foaming sickness, isn't it?" she asked. "Be honest with me. I saw you whispering to Birch as you two took a good look at the cat."

Treesniffer nodded his head. "Yes. I wish I could do more... "

"But you can't," Snakecatcher said flatly. "And I've only few days before it takes hold. What about Stone?"

Kestrel nodded slowly. "Perhaps. We're far from the holt. If we send ahead and he meets us, he may get to you in time."

"And if not," Snakecatcher said, reaching for her knife, "I do not want to die like a mad wolf." She gave the knife to Treesniffer.

"I don't intend to have to use this," he said, as he took it from her. "Birch, stay here with Snakecatcher. Kestrel, I think we'd better scout around a little. Something attacked that cat before it attacked us. We ought to find out what it was."

"Good idea," Kestrel said, nodding. She took up her bow, and pushed her way through the brush where the longtooth had leaped from. Treesniffer followed a short distance behind, sniffing the air.

Mid-stride, he froze. Treesniffer cocked his head, sniffed, and strained to hear a sound buried in the song of crickets, a tell tale click.

*Sniff?* Kestrel sent.

*DOWN!* He ordered with such intensity that everyone dropped to the ground as one. A crossbow bolt hissed over their heads. Birch snatched up her bow and fired back at the unknown enemy, giving Treesniffer and Kestrel an instant in which to race across the clearing. Kestrel joned Birch in firing a volley of arrows as Treesniffer draged Snakecatcher to shelter behind a tree. Two more bolts shot from the darkness, one catching Treesniffer in the back as he reached for his spear.

From the bushes across the clearing leaped three trolls, strangers, all heavily armed. They charged across the clearing, heedless of the arrows that clanked against the armored shield of their leader. They laughed, sure of their victory.

Treesniffer struggled to raise his spear, determined to take one down or die trying. Birch leaped forward to help him, and cried out as one of the trolls rose up in front of her. It leered as it raised a heavy sword, then gasped in surprise.

Behind Birch there rose a wild flurry of motion. Whitewolf surged to her feet, transforming from shaggy wolf to raging pureblood before the troll's terrified eyes. Her wild hair flowing down her back, she screamed in rage at the troll. Birch, not wasting her good fortune, shot the troll though the neck. The two remaining trolls turned and ran, with Kestrel and Birch's arrows following behind like angry wasps.

Battle rage might enflame other Wolfriders, but it turned Kestrel's nerves to tempered steel. Her aim, indifferent when on a hunt, was unerring as she drew back her arrow and fired at the troll. The arrow hissed. One troll down. The other was limping, Birch's arrow buried to the fletchings in his thigh. Kestrel aimed and fired again. The second troll fell to the duff with a startled cry. Whitewolf dropped down, flowing back to wolf form, and lunged forward with snapping fangs. Her jaws closed with crushing force on the troll's throat.

*Who were they?* Kestrel sent, coldly. *I didn't recognize any of them. And are there any others?*

Birch, Kestrel, and their wolves searched the area thoroughly. The scent of troll blood was thick, masking other scents. Uncertainly, they returned to the site of their short, decisive battle.

Kestrel glared back toward the battle site. "Strange trolls in the woods... and strange elves, too. If Whitefox is among elves she should be safe, but there was something wrong... "

"She was struggling against them," Snakecatcher snapped. "I could read it plain as sunlight in those tracks. Couldn't you?"

Birch backed away from Snakecatcher's prone form. She had always relied on words to catch her feelings and throw them out before they overwhelmed her, but now even language failed her. The trolls were dead. Snakecatcher might as well be dead. She herself had looked a troll in the eye and killed him like a ravvit. The others seemed to think nothing of it, but Birch knew trolls weren't that much different from elves. Birch was friends with trolls. She had reacted just like in the hunt, and what scared her the most was that she had felt the wolf in her sing as if she had pulled down a deer. She buried her face in Grizzleoak's coat and cried.

Kestrel knelt beside the weeping Birch. "They weren't our trolls," she offered, though she knew it was of little comfort. With her own battle-rage gone, there was time to think about the fact that the bodies she'd felled with her own arrows had once been thinking beings with feelings of their own.

"They were ready to kill us," she added. "What else could we do?" Kestrel rose to her feet. "For now, we need to look after our own. We're a good two days out of the holt, and with two wounded, the journey back will be longer. But we have to get there. The foaming sickness will take hold of Snakecatcher soon, and we have to get her to Stone before it's too late."

Birch suddenly felt very embarrassed. It was the Way: kill or be killed. She stood up and tried to stop crying. "What-- what about Glow and W--Whitefox?"

Glow and Whitefox. Kestrel had nearly forgotten their original purpose in the aftermath of the attack.

"We'll just have to trust them to take care of themselves for awhile," she said. "Snakecatcher could die out here. We have to get her back before the worst happens." She glanced back at where they had found the strange tracks, and her brows drew together. "Still, they could be in trouble... " She shook her head firmly. "We need more hunters. We can't do it ourselves, and we have to get Snakecatcher back. If we're to find Glow and Whitefox, we have to have the whole tribe working together."

Kestrel whistled for her wolf.

"So, there's only one thing to do now," she said. "Take the wounded back to the holt. We'll send as far as we can while we ride. If Tilvah picks up our sending, she'll see to it that Stone will ride out to meet us."

Birch swallowed hard, forcing her feelings of panic down. She would not let anyone think she was a useless cub. She had to act like a Wolfrider.

Gently, the two of them helped Snakecatcher mount her wolf.

"At least I'm concious enough to ride," Snakecatcher said. "For now, anyway. What about him?"

Kestrel looked worridly at Treesniffer as he lay motionless on the ground. She knew he was diving as far into a healing trance as his skills would allow in an effort to control his own bleeding, which meant he would not have any energy to ride.

"Birch, help me lift him onto my wolf. Bear is strong enough to carry us both. I'll have to ride behind him and hold him on."

Kestrel again had occasion to silently thank her father for her height. In stature, the healer barely came to her shoulder. He presented little problem as she and Birch hoisted him onto Bear. Kestrel put one arm around him and let him slump against her, then turned Bear's nose toward home. Birch mounted Grizzleoak and led Snakecatcher's mount, while Whitewolf, still in wolf form, nuzzled Treesniffer anxiously.

Their ride was painfully slow. Snakecatcher, dizzy from the loss of blood and from fever, had to be strapped to her mount. Treesniffer rose out of his trance from time to time, only to groan through his teeth and fall unnaturally limp again. When night had passed, they had only traveled half as far as they normally would have.

Throughout the ride, Birch and Kestrel sent as far as their sending would reach, hoping against hope that Tilvah might be listening.

Day broke on the weary riders. Kestrel gave worried looks to the wounded, frustrated by her lack of ability to do anything more for them. Birch could barely contain her own fear.

"This is crazy," she said, in a shaky voice. "This is awful. We're gonna lose Snakecatcher. If we don't lose Snake we're gonna lose Sniff and I don't wanna lose either one of them there has to be another way to do this faster!"

"Unless you can glide like Kaylamale, this is the best we can do," Kestrel responded.

"What if I leave you and the wounded here and run as fast as Holt and then bring Stone or someone back?"

Still staring straight ahead, Kestrel said, "What if the trolls have been tracking us? I still need your bow with us."

Birch looked nervously over her shoulder and fingered her bow.

"Besides," Kestrel went on, "do you want to be in the forest alone with strange trolls around? I doubt the three we took down are alone."

"I'd rather be able to run if I did see a troll," Birch said, then amended: "Not that I'd leave Treesniffer or Snakecatcher behind but you know if there was a troll it would just make me feel better if I could just... "

Kestrel gave a heavy sigh. "Fine. Then run. If you think I'll be all right here alone."

"No, no, then you'd be stuck with both of them and... never mind," Birch finished lamely.

"Run with the pack, or run alone," Kestrel repeated, angrily.

She put a hand to her temple and sent again, the farthest send she could muster. Her own worries were nearly as great as Birch's, but for the sake of the whole party she kept them under the surface. She put the strength of her worry into her send, reaching for Tilvah, the only one who could hear her at this distance.

At long last, she was answered.

Birch perked up at the faint smile that crossed Kestrel's face.

"You reached her, didn't you? You reached Tilvah!"

"She's worried for the wounded, and even more so for the missing. She'll send Stone and whoever else will ride with him."

"Then let's hurry on," Birch urged. "Snakecatcher is looking worse every step."

"And Treesniffer isn't getting any lighter," Kestrel said ruefully, noting that there was blood soaking through the wrappings she'd put on the half Go-Back's wound. "We'll have to keep going all day. We can't afford to stop and rest."

The journey continued painfully, sleeplessly, as the sun rose over the bowl of the sky. Birch was too nervous to sleep, while Kestrel, weary to the bone, marched on grimly. Both Treesniffer and Snakecatcher roused now and again to ask about their journey's progress, but neither complained despite their pain. There was no point in complaining.

"I feel hot," Snakcatcher noted flatly, near the end of the day.

Birch felt her forehead. "Her fever's getting worse," she said. "Is it the foaming sickness?"

"Not yet, cub," Snakecatcher murmured. "At least, I don't think so. It's the wounds themselves. The cat's claws must have been filthy."

"If Kaylamale had been near the holt when I reached Tilvah, he could have flown Stone to us and they'd have been here by now," Kestrel growled. "That Glider wanders too much."

Even as she said it, Kestrel knew there was no place for the Glider's giant bird to land. Her grumbling served only to relieve her own feeling. She fell silent again.

Night fell, and still they rode on. The wolves, sensing their urgency, paused only for a drink and moved on. The night hushed the busy day sounds, bringing only the song of the crickets and...

"Do you hear?" Kestrel said.

Birch listened with both ears and mind. "A send! It's them!"

They urged their wolves forward, and sent in return.

*Stone! And Ashes! It's Ashes! And Shycloud, too!*

*Lifemate! At last!*

They howled, and were answered. A few moments later, they could see their rescuers riding full speed toward them: Ashes, Stone, Shycloud, and a silent Flintwolf. Birch jumped off Grizzleoak and ran.

"Everyone! Hurry! We're over here!"

**Lifemate!** Kestrel sent again, allowing only him to know her vast relief. She hasn't been accustomed to this much responsibility since... well, not since she lived in the cave... but that seemed so long ago.

"What happened here?" Ashes demanded.

"There were trolls," Kestrel said, flatly. "And a longtooth. We had to give up our search and get these two back to the holt."

No one bothered with further questions while both hunters and rescuers lowered Treesniffer and Snakecatcher to the ground. Stone knelt by them both and gave his full attention to healing, with Shycloud close by. Kestrel sank into a heap near him.

Ashes and Flintwolf paced about the area, sniffing the air for trouble. Birch followed him about, answering question he hadn't yet asked.

"Ashes! It was awful-- they were trolls but they weren't our trolls they were strange trolls I don't know where they came from and they attacked us and they hit Treesniffer and then Snakecatcher got bitten by a cat and then... "

"The cat got Snakecatcher first," Kestrel murmured, "Not that it really matters"

"... and I killed one myself." Birch swallowed a quick sob.

"Where are they now?" Ashes asked.

"We killed all of them," Birch said. "I don't know if there are others." Birch shivered at the memory, then nearly fell against Ashes as her fatigue and strain caught up with her.

"Shycloud, would you go to her?" Kestrel asked.

Shycloud smiled sympathetically, and went to sit with Birch.

"We found Whitefox's tracks... " Kestrel told Ashes. An uneasy thought occurred to her. "And there were other elf tracks by hers. Strange ones. Not Wolfriders."

Ashes remained silent, thoughtful.

Birch gasped with shock. "Do you think the strange trolls know where our trolls are? Do you think they'd hurt them?"

"I think those strange trolls would hurt just about anything they came across." Kestrel said. "They attacked us without any cause."

With a cry, Birch jumped up and ran for Grizzleoak.

"Where are you going, cub?" Kestrel called after her.

Flintwolf ran and caught her on the sleeve. "You're not riding off all by yourself, are you?"

"I gotta go warn the trolls! Somebody's gotta warn the trolls! Our trolls, I mean!"

Kestrel rose painfully to her feet. "Alone? In the forest where other strange trolls might be? Send to Tilvah. Let Navah take the message. It will get there faster. You're worn out, anyway, and so is your wolf."

Kestrel looked over to where the silent Ashes was climbing a nearby ridge. She wondered what was going through his mind, but turned back to Birch instead.

"I gotta do SOMETHING!" Birch said, shaking with excitement.

"Then send to Tilvah. Or ride back with Shycloud. Shycloud, would you do something with her? I'm too tired."

"Come on," Shycloud said, leading Birch away from a sleeping Grizzleoak and toward a log to sit on.

Stone rose wearily from his work. "That will hold them for now," he said. "The foaming sickness is stopped, so Snakecatcher will be all right, but they both need rest and time to heal." He sat beside Kestrel and put his arms around her. **And you, beloved, have been through much yourself. Sleep while they sleep. Ashes, Flintwolf, Shycloud, and I will watch over all of you.**

**If you can get Birch to settle down, maybe I can sleep,** Kestrel sent back, with a smile.

Stone smiled back. He called over to Birch. "So, how about telling ME what happened?"

Birch took a deep breath. Ashes flinched.

Birch dove right in. "There were these trolls and they weren't our trolls they were strange trolls and they attacked us and we had been hunting this longtooth and it attacked Snakecatcher and Treesniffer and Whitewolf got one of the trolls and then the other one got Snif and then I killed one myself and... and... "

"Something like that," Kestrel murmured.

Stone noded sympathetically. He could feel his own lifemate's weariness, but he also sensed the cub's need to unload her feelings.

"... and I killed a troll, Shycloud!"

"You did?" Shycloud said, surprised.

Birch burst into tears. "It was awful!"

"There, there," Shycloud comforted, patting Birch as she put her arms around the younger Wolfrider.

"We have to get back to the holt" Kestrel said. "There might be more trolls out there. And we never did find Whitefox or Glow. The whole tribe needs to know about this, and organize scouts and... "

"Later," Stone interrupted. "All of you need to rest right now. When you're ready to travel, we'll go back."

The night was gone and day half over when the party rose and mounted up again. Treesniffer and Snakecatcher, still weary, dozed on their wolves as they rode.

"The real problem is," Kestrel began, as she rode at the front with Birch and Ashes, "what are we going to tell the others?"

"The trolls!" Birch exclaimed. " I wanna warn the trolls. Not the strange trolls --"

"I should hope not," Kestrel murmured.

"-- I mean our trolls because they could be in danger from these other trolls and... " Birch trailed off, knowing she was babbling again. If only she could stop sounding like a cubling every time she turned around! Snakecatcher was near her age -- how was it she acted so much older?

"Birch, when we get to the holt, you and Navah could go up to the troll caves," Kestrel said. "They may have information we need, too."

"I'll go with them," Flintwolf offered. "Someone has to keep this cub out of trouble."

Birch seethed inwardly, but composed her face. "If you want to," she sniffed.

Behind them, Stone glanced at Treesniffer, sound asleep, strapped to Whitewolf. Snakecatcher lay on her wolf's ruff, staring out into the forest. Her outward silence didn't deceive him.

"We'll find Glow," he said, quietly.

Snakecatcher glared at him, then turned away.

"We're nearing the holt," Flintwolf said to Kestrel. "Can you reach anyone by sending?"

"I could reach any of the purebloods, I'm sure," she said, "It's Greywolf I' want, since he's the closest thing we have to a chief for the time being."

"Unless certain purebloods have their way," Flintwolf growled.

Kestrel put her hands to her temples and sent ahead, trying to reach Greywolf. *We're back... couldn't find Whitefox and Glow... we have wounded.*

No response from the elder.

"I'm going to ride ahead and scout for any danger," Flintwolf said.

Kestrel nodded, and continued sending, then broke off in frustration.

"Birch, send ahead to Navah. Can you reach her?"

"Can I reach her?" Birch laughed. "Oh, that's a silly question." *NAVAH!!!!!!!!*

A moment later Birch smiled triumphantly. "She wants to know what's the matter."

"Tell her, then," Kestrel said, impatiently. "Tell her what happened, and ask her to go find Moss. The trolls need warned."

Only slightly subdued, Birch complied.

The sun had set and darkness had fallen when they came in sight of the holt. Kestrel sent openly to the whole tribe. *We're back. Treesniffer and Snakecatcher are all right -- more or less.*

She rode ahead, wondering what more to say. Wolfriders tumbled from their dens. Purebloods looked on curiously. One question ran through the entire holt: where were Whitefox and Glow?

"Where is Greywolf?" Kestrel asked, furious that the greybearded elder still had not answered her send. What use was he as a leader if he wandered off as much as Sharpwit had?

A sharp voice cut across the gathering tribe. "What's this all about?"

Yharren. Kestrel glanced over to where the pureblood leaned against a tree, looking highly superior. Deliberately she turned away. "Where is Greywolf?" she repeated. "Is no one in charge of this holt any more?"

"No one worthwhile," Nighthawk smirked.

"There are plenty who think they are," Flintwolf retorted. "Instead of standing there, Yharren, maybe you could help us."

Kestrel wheeled her wolf around, and saw that the acidic pureblood only yawned while Ashes and Stone helped Treesniffer and Snakecatcher down from their wolves. Yharren glanced her direction, then, with a smirk on his face, turned deliberatly to Birch.

*Birch? What is going on here?*

Birch looked at him with a confused expression, then glanced back at Kestrel.

Kestrel waved aside the questions that were flying at her from the rest of the tribe. She dismounted, and strode toward the pureblood, swearing under her breath. If Greywolf wouldn't answer, wouldn't come between the tribe and this domineering pureblood, there was nothing to do but face him herself.

Flintwolf, however, leaped into the fray ahead of her. "WE HAVE WOUNDED YHARREN!!!"

Yharren shrugged. *Then get a healer*

"If it's any concern to you," Kestrel said, "we were attacked by strange Trolls."

"But they weren't our trolls," Birch put in. "They were strange trolls."

*Just as I warned you all,* Yharren said.

"Stupid... " Flintwolf muttered.

Kestrel raised one eyebrow. "Strange, I don't recall you standing in our way when we left."

Yharren stared down his sizable long nose at Flint, then turned to Kestrel. *I warned all of you of the danger quite some time ago--when certain of you objected to sending out scouts. How you deal with it now will be interesting to see*

"We also still have two missing from our holt... if that's of any concern to you."

"Probably not," Flintwolf growled.

"And no one ever objected to sending scouts," Kestrel continued. "Just to someone taking over the holt without the tribe's consent."

Yharren sniffed at what he took to be insolence.

*Call your mate if there are wounded,* he sent casually, and looked for someplace comfortable to sit and relax.

"Open your eyes dimwit," Kestrel shot back. "He's already healed them."

Flint stood in Yharren's path. "You seem to want to be chief! Is this the way a chief acts?"

"Don't you keep track of anything around here?" Kestrel said, disdainfully. "You who wanted to take charge of the holt."

Yharren yawned behind one hand, and sent something that whispered slightly in the minds of the elves around him, but was addressed to someone else.

*Typically,* he sent directly to Kestrel and Flintwolf, *you Wolfriders misinterpret my actions.*

"So you say," Kestrel replied. "Come on, Flint, let's see if we can get the tribe organized ourselves."

Though still a newcomer to the holt, Flintwolf strode into the midst of the tribe. "We need search parties for the missing and scout for danger. I'm going. Who will come with me?"

Snakecatcher leaped up. "I'll go!" she said, in spite of Stone's look of warning.

"Is she well enough?" Kestrel asked.

"As healed as she can get without more rest," Stone replied, "But since when have I ever been able to tell her what to do?"

"I'll go! I'll go!" Birch offered, with a worried expression.

"We don't have time for rest right now," Flintwolf said. "Can she ride?"

"She can ride, if she takes it easy."

"I'm going, whether you give the word or not," Snakecatcher said. "Glow is my lovemate, after all."

"All right, then, we have Snakecatcher, Birch, and myself to scout for danger."

"Keep in mind," Kestrel said, "we only found Whitefox's tracks. Not Glow's. We have no idea where Glow went to. Maybe we should have at least two searching parties."

"Whitefox can take care of herself!" Snakecatcher burst out. "Glow's the one who's in trouble. I don't know why you go on about Whitefox. She's probably the one who lured Glow out in the forest in the first place, where he doesn't belong. He's probably lost himself and... "

"Which direction do you think you should go to find him?" Kestrel interrupted, putting aside Snakecatcher's anger, and focusing on the need at hand.

"I, uh... I... I suppose Whitefox might be tracking Glow... "

"But we didn't find his tracks anywhere along the way," Kestrel reminded her. "Is there any place he often wanders off to?"

Snakecatcher thought a moment, then pointed off in the direction of the hub star. "That way."

"Take the party that direction, then," Kestrel said. "Let the scouting party be a search party for Glow. Look for tracks. They'll be old, but you're a good tracker. In the meantime, another party can hunt some more for Whitefox."

"You'll probably find Glow dreaming away in a ravine somewhere," Stone said. "But it's not like mother to just wander off like that. Still," he added, for Snakecatcher's sake, "it's worrisome that Glow isn't back yet, either. This is too long for him to be gone."

"I'm looking for Glow," Snakecatcher repeated stubbornly. "It isn't safe for him to be alone. That's why I wanted to stay with him. But, no, that-- uh, Whitefox had other ideas."

"Where we find Whitefox we might find more strange trolls," Flintwolf added.

"It's settled, then. Snake, you look for Glow. Stone and I will go hunt for Whitefox. Who wants to go with who?"

"I'm going," Snakecatcher said. "Let's go. Where's my wolf? Let's move out."

"Flint, you go with Snakecatcher," Kestrel said. "She's not strong yet, and she'll need a strong arm with her."

"All right," he answered, taking up his weapons. "Anyone brave enough to follow had better come now. I don't think Snakecatcher will wait another moment."

*Glow?* Snakecatcher's plaintive send echoed over the holt. *You answer me! You get yourself back here if you know what's good for you*

While Stone and Ashes organized a second party of strong fighters, Kestrel stood brooding. Greywolf was still nowhere in sight, and no one seemed to know when he would be back from his hunting trip. Nor did they seem worried. Kestrel couldn't help but wonder what would happen to the holt without a strong leader. The tribe must have a chief to hold things together, especially now, with the scent of war in the air. If only Wolfrunner would return! But until he did, who would lead the tribe in times of danger?

Unwillingly, she glanced over at Yharren.

"What if... " she wondered to herself. Would it be such a bad thing, after all? For a short time, anyway.

Yharren raised an eyebrow in Kestrel's direction.

Kestrel smiled in spite of herself. "Any opinions before we head off?"

Yharren sniffed. *It is my opinion you should learn to send if you will be near trolls.*

With a force only her father knew she could muster, she sent to him. **Is this good enough?**

Yharren's eyebrows rose. His return send was one of vague approval.

Kestrel laughed, and beckoned her search party to follow. **We'll keep you posted, if you're at all interested,** she sent, as she rode off into the forest.