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4

He could feel the heat from the bonfire even at this distance, as if the air itself was burning.

So many familiar faces. There was Jargo, who would sometimes get impatient with his daughter and beat her until she was lame. There was Moka, who believed that drinking fresh rabbit's blood from a living victim would keep her young. There was Hyker, who once got so angry at Shayli for rejecting his advances he struck her over the head with a stone until she went deaf in one ear. They cut off his left as punishment.

So many familiar faces, all staring at him like he was some kind of monster. How ironic.

And among all these, standing out from the crowd, were the most familiar faces of them all - the faces of his family. Father stood in the middle, his head and hands painted with the Eyes of the Cora, the symbols for 'Vadre' and 'Banno' on his shoulders, and for some reason, a handprint across is heart that gave Ander the chills. To his right stood Mother, hunched over a bowl of what could only be deer blood, and to his left -

No, that couldn't be him. That couldn't be Hezzi? He had the same fur, the same clothes, he was the right build and age, but surely that Wolf with the red, sunken eyes and the grave, hateful expression couldn't be his little brother? Hezzi would never look at him that way, as if he wanted to

(murder)

attack him. No Wolf has ever looked at him that way. Except for -

Banno.

That's when it all clicked into place. The Wolf standing in front of him was indeed his little brother, but the eyes weren't. Those were the eyes of Banno. A ridiculous thought, Ander knew, but he couldn't shake it. Hezzi's eyes were a light grey colour, while Banno's were black, but somehow it was as if he was back in the rain, being pulled into the icy water, staring into the face of the monster that had taken over his older brother's mind. Those were the eyes of a creature who only wanted to kill, murder, tear flesh, rip meat, no matter the cost.

And they belonged to Hezzi now.

He suddenly shot forward like an arrow, closing the distance between them before Father could even yell at him to stop. Hezzi was by no means the biggest or the strongest Wolf, but he was moving so fast that the blow to Ander's stomach still connected with considerable force.

The pain exploded inside Ander's midsection, radiating outwards, doubling him over, rendering him unable to do anything except splutter and heave for breath. He had enough time to think, Did he just...? before the second blow struck him right in the ribs, then the third, the fourth the fifth the sixth. Hezzi was wailing on him as hard and as fast as he could, his arms pumping back and forth, tears streaming from his eyes, all the while screaming, "You killed Banno! You killed Banno, you bastard! You killed him you killed him you killed Banno you killed Bannoooo!!"

"Hezzi, stop it!" Father yelled, but his voice could barely be heard above the sudden boisterous uproar from the crowd. Almost every single Wolf in the tribe was jumping up and down, punching the air, chanting Hezzi's name, egging him on.

Ander managed to grab hold of one of Hezzi's wild swings (no easy feat), but Hezzi simply doubled the speed of his other arm, hitting the same spot over and over. It was like getting attacked by a giant woodpecker!

"Hezzi, don't!" Ander had never seen his little brother go berserk like this! He gauged the timing of Hezzi's next strike and readied himself to catch the blow.

If Ander hadn't been so focussed on what was going on in front of him, he might have noticed Garten sneaking up on him from behind, but he was so caught up in what was happening the thought never even crossed his mind. Just as he was about to make his move, the warrior grabbed Ander's arm and twisted it behind his back in one, well-practiced move, pulling it up so hard he could feel the back of his hand brushing against his own shoulder blade.

"Go on, Hezzi!" Garten screamed in Ander's ear. "Vengeance!"

Ander didn't know what to do. He could easily floor Hezzi with a single kick, but he had never done anything to hurt his little brother -

(except kill his idol)

• and doing something like that would only excite the other Wolves even further, deepen their bloodlust, make them more hungry.

So Ander took Hezzi's blows, gritting his teeth against the mounting pain until Father came rushing towards them, shouting at Hezzi to stop.

"Once more!" Garten screamed, indifferent to Father's orders, his spittle landing against Ander's ear in a warm spray. "One more time! For Banno!"

Knowing this would be his last chance, Hezzi drew his arm back and punched Ander right above his naval, pivoting into the blow with his upper body, pushing off against the ground with his feet, putting all his weight into it, just as Banno had taught him.

And Banno had taught him well.

Ander's knees buckled under the impact, and if Garten hadn't been holding him up, he very well might have dropped down to all fours, not just from the throbbing pain in his stomach, but also from the severe emotional strain of seeing his once cheerful little brother reduced to this furious creature, consumed by hatred and intense grief.

"Let him go!" Father shouted. "Dammit Garten, I command you!"

Ander felt Garten release his grip, felt his arm drop down by his side. The ache in his shoulder immediately started to fade away, but it was nothing compared to what he saw in Hezzi's face.

Ander was wrong before. He could see it now. It wasn't hate or fury that drove Hezzi's actions. Those things were there, of course, make no mistake about it, but Ander didn't think all those feelings put together made up even a quarter of what he was feeling right now. Ander knew this because he was Hezzi's big brother, and big brothers know. It's the same way he knew whenever Hezzi was in trouble, if he did something and was worried that Mother would find out. It's the same way he knew Hezzi was hoping to stand out from his family and be seen as a Wolf in his own right, and not just the runty little brother of the biggest Wolves in the tribe or the youngest son of the Chieftain. It's the same way he knew when Hezzi was happy or hurt, excited or scared.

He knew because he was Hezzi's big brother, and big brothers always know.

Hezzi was sad. He was in pain. He felt betrayed. Looking at him in this moment was like looking at him as he was by the riverbank, with his fur plastered against his skin by the rain, and drops of water dripping from his chin, his ears flattened against his skull and his eyes wide and unbelieving, staring at his big brother in absolute horror.

Hezzi was in so much pain.

And it was all Ander's fault.

"Silence!" Father thundered. He had to shout several times before the cheering finally started to calm down, and even then there were still the occasional whoops and hollers from the more daring Wolves, rising up from the constant undertones of hurried whispers. Father must have realised he wouldn't be able to quiet them all completely, because he turned to Hezzi next. "Go back to your mother, Hezzi. I'll handle this."

Hezzi bowed his head and walked back to the fire without argument, apparently all fought out for now. Several Wolves clapped him on the back as he passed, raining down compliments that normally would have had his tail wagging for hours, but now had no effect whatsoever.

"Nice punch, pup!"

"Hey, you'd better not call him that, or he'll deck you next! Right, Hezzi?"

"Banno would have been proud."

Hezzi didn't answer any of them. He simply stood by his mother's side, just as his father had asked of him, shrugging off any Wolves that attempted to squeeze his shoulder or raise his hand in the air with a scowl on his face.

He's changed so much...

"Ander, what is the meaning of this?" Father asked, his markings still glistening in the firelight.

"Your question holds more weight than you realise, Father," Ander responded, fighting the urge to rub the spot where Hezzi had struck him. Such a gesture would be seen as weakness. "Because I would ask the same of you."

"Of me? What are you talking about?"

"I learned things, Father. Things I need to discuss with you. In private."

"Oh no!" Garten interrupted. "You're not getting off that easy!"

"Garten!"

"If he wants to beg and grovel for his life, then let him do it where the whole tribe can see him for what he really is! Let there be Judgement! Let the truth come out!"

"Yeah!" Shouts of approval from the other Wolves.

"I did not come back to beg or grovel," Ander said, "and I am fully prepared to face my judgment in the Old Way. But before that happens, all I ask is one private palaver with my father. It is my right as son of the Chieftain."

"You gave up that right the moment you murdered your brother!" Garten snarled. "Your father said so himself! 'He is not my son!' Those were his words!"

"I can speak for myself, Garten!" Father said. "This does not concern you, so hold your tongue or else we will have two Wolves to judge instead of one! Do you understand?"

Garten growled and ran his tongue across the gap in his teeth. It reminded Ander of a snake peeking out of its hole. Finally, he nodded and said, "I understand, Chieftain."

"Good." He turned to Ander. "Come with me. You've got some serious explaining to do, boy."

"Yes, Father."

"And don't call me that, or else I might forget my position and imitate Hezzi, only worse. Cora knows I'm tempted..."

Ander closed his eyes in frustration, took a slow breath, opened them again. "I understand. Chieftain."

It was completely different to the way Garten had said it, and everyone within earshot knew it.

"Let's get this over with," Father said, turning back to the crowd. It parted as if by magic, clearing a path to his tent, a path lined with innumerable sneering faces, all wishing death upon the one who had killed their most beloved comrade.

Ander followed his father closely, trying his best to ignore the murderous stares from the Wolves all around him. They spat as he walked by, whispering threats of the most horrendous tortures and punishments.

They spoke of justice for Banno.

Hezzi and Mother were just about the only ones who wouldn't look at him. Hezzi, because he had his eyes fixed firmly to the ground. Mother, because she could barely see anything even at the best of times.

It was as this very thought travelled through Ander's mind that her head suddenly snapped in his direction, the bonfire throwing a mask of hellfire and half-shadow across her face.

With the crowd closing the path behind them, and the jagged walls of the tribe surrounding them on all sides, Ander truly felt trapped.

Towering above all this was the giant statue of the Cora, something Ander had hoped he would never have to see again. Its arms were splayed out, same as always, its jaws lined with the same serrated rocks, but with the fire illuminating every inch of its imposing body, shadows flickering and waving from every crack and splinter, it seemed to be moving, as if it couldn't wait for what was about to happen. It was denied its sacrifice on the night of Banno's death, but maybe not this time. Maybe this time it would get to taste the blood of a Wolf.

"Get inside," Father said, holding open the flap of his tent.

Ander stepped inside without hesitation, almost grateful to be spared another look at that horrid statue. It was too much like his big brother, too much like Banno by far...