Chapter 149: The Forest Fire

The horn was a Blackthorn horn and it came from the south road.

We went down the hill with my grandmother's body in a cart and the whole of the north behind us, and at the bottom of the hill there was a rider on a lathered horse.

He was one of the fourteen. His name was Colm's brother and he had ridden four days to find us and he could barely stand.

"Luna," he said. "The coast is burning."

I got down off the cart.

"Say that properly," I said.

"There was a fire on the north ridge four days ago and it went through the heather and down into the pine wood and it has been burning ever since." He wiped his face. "It has taken the wood and the north pasture and it is on the ridge above the pack house. The pack has been fighting it for four days and there are eleven wolves burned and the roof of the pack house has gone again."

Ronan was beside me.

"The pack house," he said.

"The pack house is standing but the roof has gone and the north wall is scorched and there are nine wolves in the cellar with burns." The rider looked at him. "Alpha. There are rogues on the ridge. Bran's wolves. They came down the coast road three days ago and they have been fighting the fire with us since."

I looked at him.

"Rogues fighting a fire," I said.

"They have been on the line since the second day. There is a wolf called Bran with a scarred ear and he has been in the smoke for three days and he has not slept." The rider wiped his face. "Luna. I have been in this pack since I was fourteen and I have never once seen a rogue fight a fire. And I have never once seen a wolf hold a line like that wolf held it."

I turned round.

"Ronan," I said.

"I heard."

"We go south."

"We go south."

We went south that night.

It was two days by boat and the boat was a Council boat and it was full. There were the nine and the fourteen and the seven and the twelve and Padraig and Oisin and Nessa and Colm and Maeve with a guard and my grandmother's body in the hold and the whole of it going down the coast with the sail hard and the wind behind us.

We came into the Blackthorn harbour at dawn on the second day.

The sky was the colour of a bruise.

There was smoke over the whole of the north ridge and the smell of it came down the harbour and into the streets, and the boats at the pier were grey with ash.

The pack house was standing. The roof had gone in the north corner and the north wall was black and there were wolves on the wall and wolves on the slip and there was a line of them going up the hill with buckets.

And on the ridge above the pack house there was a line of fire.

I got off the boat.

Colm's brother was on the slip with his arm bound and his face black.

"Luna," he said. "It has come over the ridge again. There are forty wolves on the line and they have been there since midnight and the wind has turned."

"Where is Bran?"

"On the ridge. He has been on the ridge since the second day." He looked at me. "Luna. There is a thing I have to say. There are wolves on that ridge who have been fighting beside rogues for three days and they have been passing buckets to each other and they have been carrying each other out of the smoke. And there is a wolf from the highlands who went back into the wood for a Blackthorn pup who had got lost and he came out with the pup and he did not come out with his coat."

I stood on the slip.

"Then we go up the hill," I said.

We went up the hill.

It was the worst thing I have ever seen. The wood was gone. The pine wood that had stood on the north ridge since before the pack house was built was a black field of stumps and ash and there were trees still burning at the far end and the smoke came down over the ridge like a wall.

And on the ridge there was a line of wolves.

There were forty of them. Half of them were Blackthorn and half of them were rogues and there were two highland wolves and there was a Ravenscar wolf and there was an old wolf with a scarred ear in the middle of the line with a bucket in his hand.

Bran.

I went and stood beside him.

He looked at me.

"Luna," he said. "You are early."

"Give me a bucket," I said.

He gave me a bucket.

We fought the fire all day.

I do not know how to describe it. It was not like a fight with wolves. There was no enemy and there was nothing to bite and there was only the wind and the smoke and the line and the buckets going hand to hand down the ridge from the stream.

I have been a healer for ten years and I have never once been on a fire line. I did not know what to do with a bucket. I learned it from a rogue from the highlands who had a burned hand and a broad accent and who showed me how to throw the water so that it went where it was needed and not on the ground.

By dusk the wind dropped.

By dark the fire was out.

We came down off the ridge at midnight with our faces black and our hands blistered and the whole of the coast behind us.

The pack house was full. There were wolves on the floor of the hall and wolves on the stairs and wolves in the kitchen and there were eleven burned and Padraig was working on them with the green tin and the honey.

And in the middle of the hall there were rogues and Blackthorn wolves sitting on the floor together with their backs against the same wall and a jug of water going between them.

I stood in the doorway.

Ronan came and stood beside me.

"Fiadh," he said.

"Look at them," I said.

"I see them."

"There are rogues and Blackthorn wolves sitting on the floor of my hall and passing a jug of water and there is a highland wolf asleep with his head on a Blackthorn wolf's shoulder." I looked at him. "Ronan. I have been trying to make a peace on this coast for three months and it took a fire and a bucket."

Ronan put his arm round me.

"It took a fire and a bucket and a founder who told a rogue king he could not have a war," he said.

And down in the harbour, a horn sounded.

It was a Council horn and it came from the water.