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Prologue
Two hundred years earlier
Run.
Father’s only just said it, and I’m already running.
Men came out of the trees right after supper.
I know where the roots are, but my feet catch on them anyway. I can’t lift them high enough, and every stumble hurts up through my knees. It’s too dark under the pines to see the ground. I aim for the gaps between the trunks.
Jouni’s right behind me, nearly on my heels. He knocks twice on my elbow. That’s our signal for I’m right here. I reach back and knock twice on his.
He’s come with me into every bit of trouble since we could walk.
His breathing’s wrong tonight, wet at the back of his throat. Mine hurts too, and we’ve hardly gone anywhere. We both felt sick at supper. I wanted to lie down then. I still do.
There isn’t any moon tonight.
Father told me to run, so I run. I’m good at doing what he tells me.
A woman screams for Father behind us.
“Ilmari!”
I know her voice, but then it drops into a roar that goes on too long, and it doesn’t sound like her anymore. Old Väinö shouts over her, and his words turn into growling before he finishes.
What’s wrong with them?
I duck under a branch with my ears flat.
Father will come after us. He can track us through anything, even sick. I need to keep Jouni close until he gets here.
Behind me, iron clangs on iron. Then a man yells, and our people roar over him.
I can’t tell which roar is Father’s anymore.
Jouni’s beside me when the path dips, bumping my shoulder. He slips on the loose earth and grabs my arm. I pull until he has his feet under him again.
We go down too fast, and my legs can’t keep up.
I can smell men ahead. How are they in front of us?
There’s one in the trees, and another beside him. The first one’s holding a spear across the path, but I can get under his arm if I duck.
Father said run, so I don’t slow down.
He swings the point at me before I can get under. I twist, but it catches my left side.
It burns all the way across my ribs.
I slam into his arm, and my claws scrape down the shaft. He grabs for my hair and misses. Then I’m past him, and I can’t breathe.
My next step almost puts me on my face.
I stay up, and the air comes back. When I press my hand to my side, the fur’s wet. Blood runs between my fingers and into my trousers.
He cut me. I was only running.
