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animals. A few kinds of fish, not many, can live in water like that. Large flocks of birds live around those lakes, where there are fewer people. They feed in the waters. A little like a heron, but different. Pink.”

“Pink herons,” my sister repeated, raising her eyebrows.

“The color of flowers, I promise you. Anyway, Geras and I do not need more water right now. Your people should finish this.”

I had been distracted, thinking of flocks of herons as pink as flowers, but after a moment, I drank again and passed the waterskin to Etta. She drank a little more, then broke a piece off her journey stick, but before she put it in her mouth, Iro lifted a hand and she stilled. Everyone stilled, following the direction of his gaze. Wolf tracks were coming toward us, visible where patches of snow lay. The shadow of the wolf rippled over the grass, strangely translucent. Iro had noticed before I had.

I got to my feet. Everyone was getting up. Geras had a hand to the hilt of his sword. Though he had risen as well, Iro said, “There is no need to be concerned. She is not offended, only curious, or she would not come so directly.”

I nodded. I thought he was right. Probably she was indeed curious to see Lau and Tarashana here—or living people. As Iro said, most likely this wolf was female, judging from the size of her tracks where she crossed through patches of snow, though she had an uncommon length of stride.

The wolf halted near us, not couching in a threatening way, but standing square. Then she came into our sight. She was like a wolf made of air, of mist, but I could see her clearly. Her head was elegant, her chest deep and narrow, her legs, as I had guessed, even longer than usual for a wolf. Her head was tilted like the head of a curious dog, one who is ready to be friendly. She was gazing at Etta. Then she turned her head, considering Aras. Geras stepped half in front of him, not drawing his sword, but ready to do it. Aras said nothing, but he permitted Geras to take that position.

Then, instead of the wolf, a young woman stood there. Every feature was that of a woman. But not an Ugaro woman. To my astonishment, to everyone’s astonishment, this was a Lau woman. There was no color to her; she was made of air, of mist, but her long limbs and slender build and narrow, elegant face were all most perfectly those of a Lau. She tilted her head in the same way as before, but now her smile was a woman’s smile rather than the smile of a wolf. She asked the Lau, in darau, “Are you friends of these Ugaro people?”

Aras answered softly, “Yes, we are.” His expression was difficult to read. He had recovered from his own surprise and now studied the woman with great curiosity.

The woman smiled at him. Then she asked Etta, in taksu, “Little sister, are you a friend of these Lau?”

“We are all friends here!” Etta agreed. “You must have been a very great friend to some Ugaro people to come here to this place. But I do not know your name. Are you ... what people are yours?”

The woman who had been a wolf smiled. “I had many names in life, but that is past. My skull rests in the tomb of my people, so I have found joy in the land of the shades. It is not easy for Ugaro and Lau to be friends to one another in the land of the living. I hope that your friendship may bring you both joy while you live, little sister.” Then she looked at me and Iro. “But you must take care, warriors! The tiger is hunting near this place. When the scent of living people comes to him, he may be curious.”

I nodded to her. “We are grateful for your warning.”

“Yes, thank you, sister!” Etta said. “We will be careful.” She was smiling, delighted, but she had not forgotten why we had come here, because she said then, “We are going to Talal Sabero. Do you know a short path to come there?”

The woman who had been a wolf tilted her head the other way. “If the gods are pleased to shorten your path, then the path will be short. I wish you luck on your quest, you who are friends with Lau, and more than luck: I wish that all shades will help you and the gods favor you.”

In the near distance, a single wolf sang, a long, lingering song that rose to the sky. The woman who had been a wolf shivered. Suddenly she had a wolf’s head atop a woman’s neck and shoulders. This looked peculiar, but not wrong, much as the Lakasha-erra seemed so strange, yet not wrong.

“Sister!” Etta said to her. “How do you do that? Is that something you choose to do?”

The shade of the Lau woman took an entirely human form again, smiling at my sister. “Sometimes I am a wolf for the joy of running.” Suddenly she was entirely a wolf again, narrow-chested and long-legged. The other wolf, her unseen companion, sang out once more, a thin, clear-toned call that seemed to echo in the air for a long time after silence fell, and the wolf who had been a woman turned and loped away. Before she had gone ten strides, she was invisible, only her tracks showing where she ran.

More wolves began singing, very close. At least four wolves. Then more. Many more, until I could not count all the voices. The sound of their singing echoed and re-echoed from the mountains, until wolves seemed everywhere, all around us.

In every direction great trees appeared, towering spruce and fir and larch, as though mist burned away

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