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"This will be my last season Ian." The Master furrier flexed his claws.

"Don't be so glum." The young badger bounced and smiled.

Werner grimaced and pulled back the heavy leather window apron to check the stars. Sharp cold air rushed into the room making the fire belch embers onto the dirt floor. Ian slapped them out with a half made mitten.

In the east constellations were migrating slowly behind the mountains. The light from Father-moon danced on frozen forest branches; like the ghosts of the fireflies. Mother moon was waning on the horizon.

Werner resealed the window. "Father favors predators tonight."

He pushed his bench closer to the red stone fireplace and resumed the gruesome task of fashioning the pelts of fellow mammals into garments that would ensure another generation's survival. His long badger's claws made the work easier. Still, every pelt was a palpable reminder that either a predator or the winter would eventually claim him and he would be fashioned into a handsome pair of ear warmers for one more fortunate.

The ragged rabbit pelt he held was barely useable. He whispered a prayer to Samran and hoped that she was resting in the warmth of paradise. It would be some comfort if that poor soul knew she was chosen to hide the key. Her suffering had a secret purpose_._

His apprentice sat on a pile of pelts beside the red stone hearth and slapped the chill out of his arms. "Why are you making a hat with that mangey pelt? No one will ever buy it. Let me try making boots for a change."

"No. This is for a special customer."

"Well, it looks like a complete waste of time."

He looked at Ian and remembered being twelve. Winter promised great adventure: a time to spend with family and clansfolk, to tell stories and sing songs, to huddle together in the camaraderie that shared deprivation brings.

The banished could only try to survive. Predator clans tried harder.

"You were born during the last Kreik cycle weren't you? Do you remember it?"

"No, but--"

"Well, this is my third." Werner closed his eyes as forest creaked in the wind. "You've never seen a frozen corpse have you? They look so peaceful. The cold can lull anyone quietly into death. Even...." Werner looked up. "Never mind. I'm just not sure I'll make it through this time; and I don't think you can make it without me."

"Three years isn't that long. We have plenty of food." Ian kicked a pile of pelts. "And we sure won't freeze."

"Did you ever think that someone might envy our comfort? What do you think would happen to us if a band of lost souls or a pack of hungry predators decides to take our supplies, Hmmm? Not every stranger is Samran testing us."

"So just buy--"

"You just don't get it do you? You can't eat barter marks. They're worthless until Kreik ends. When the Eden cycle starts, we can buy things--lots of things. We have what we have and won't get any more. If the supplies don't last, we won't either."

"Ok, ok..." Ian adjusted rough linen tunic. "Can I go out and read the stars?"

Werner tossed another log into the hearth. "Don't be long. Check the constellations. See if Cainis is ascending and note the lunar phases--Mother-moon is waning but I couldn't see Father. Then come in and work on more mittens."

Ian scampered into the sales floor and chose a fox-hide parka black raccoon fur mittens. He was picking through a shelf of boots when there was a loud thump at he door. A small scroll appeared in the slot.

Ian called back to the workshop. "I got it!"

"No! I'm expecting a private--"

"I said 'I got it' already but it doesn't make any sense. 'An exceptional fox?' What does that mean?"

Werner ran to the door and threw it open. He squinted out into the cold. The frozen ground glistened but there was no snow to reveal the messenger or his path.

"Are you all idiots?" he yelled into the night before closing the door. "Foxes. Deceitful predators--all of them."

"What--"

"You don't need to know." Werner crumbed the note and tossed it into the fire.

"Does this have something with your box?"

"How do you know--"

"You're not a very good hider."

Werner's paws trembled. He picked Ian up by the shoulders and pinned him against a wall. "Did you look inside?"

"It...it was j-just a shiny ball."

"If you tell anyone...if I even think you might tell someone...I will make you into a pair of boots! Am I clear?"

"Yes sir."

"What you did is very dangerous. If that 'shiny ball' ends up with a predator clan, not even the underworld will be safe. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, I'm sorry! Please let me down."

Werner sighed and released his grip. "Go check the sky. The Pilgrimage will start soon and we have a lot to do."

* * *

Werner stoked the fire and started breakfast. He stretched his stiff joints and looked outside. Mount Graham stood out as a jagged silhouette against the dull gray sky.

He shook Ian. "Get up and get moving! It's already light out. Customers will be here soon!"

"Do I smell eggs?"

"No sense trying to raise chicks. I slaughtered the hens while you were sleeping. They should be frozen by now."

"Why the heck--"

"I want to attract customers, not beggars. Now eat up and get back to work on those mittens."

He unbolted the front door and tugged on a thick cord to raise a black banner. The furrier was open for business.

Werner sorted and organized his wares and waited for customers to show. Piles of mittens, cloaks and boots sat in neat rows on ramshackle shelves and stuck on stacked stone ledges. Behind the counter were his most precious wares: hats.

He sipped his tea, but didn't have to wait long. A variety of races soon milled about the shop. The pilgrims were easy to spot; they were exuberant and chatty. Survival underground in Sanctuary was promised to them. They would spend the next three years in peace and comfort. They never bought much, unless it was especially flashy. Generally, they preferred to keep their barter marks in their pockets.

There were others; real customers. They showed weakness already. They were the most vulnerable and there was business to conduct. They would pay any price for the hope he provided.

A well-fed ruddy fox strutted into the narrow shop, but he took far more interest in the patrons than the products. He picked out a young vixen and examined her closely.

Ian looked up from his breakfast. "Is that him...the one you're looking for?"

"You have work to do. Now get to it." He grabbed Ian by the shoulder and dragged him into the workshop. "That's Rufus; a predator Nodam. Keep busy and keep quiet. And don't you dare mess with my things."

Werner rushed back to the sales floor and reached under the counter. The obsidian lance was ready. "Can I help you sir?"

"Naa, I think I already found what I'm looking for." He cupped a vixens chin and lifted her face.

"What's your name?"

"Jackie." She tried to look at the floor.

"Well Jackie, a pretty little lady like you deserves a nice hat. Let me buy you one."

Werner pulled down a thick fleece hat with extended ear flaps. "What do you think of this?"

Rufus took the hat. "That is fetching isn't it. Would you like it? It'll help keep you warm."

"I can't accept such a generous gift sir--"

"Who said it was a gift? By the looks of you, you won't last a week, let alone all of Kreik. No warm wrap? I bet you don't even have any food. I'm sure we could come to an understanding." He brushed her cheek. "So what do you say? You serve me and it's yours. I'll make sure you're fed and you can sleep by my fire."

She looked at her bare paws and the rags wrapping her feet. There was only one choice after all.

"You are too kind. I...I accept."

He tossed three large black pottery shards engraved with a lance piercing a skull onto the counter. "Is that enough for the hat?"

Werner smiled. "A day's worth of fishing on your clan's river? That will do nicely. A pleasure Nodam."

The pair made their way to the door as a tall golden fox entered. He kept his auburn ear tips erect. Although there was no sign of prosperity, his eyes communicated the eerie confidence of a predator which defied his modest appearance.

Rufus sniffed and sneered. "I don't know you!"

"It's unlikely that you would since I don't know you either."

"Poachers are treated very severely around here. I hope you don't intend to hunt on our lands."

"Pilgrims, predators and prey all follow the same paths. We just travel them in different ways."

"Figures, a pilgrim." Rufus spit onto the plank floor. "That how you got chosen? Talk in riddles like a Priest? What is your clan?"

"I am Aaron, born of Yellowfox. We are simply survivors."

"Do your business and move on, or your stay will be a short one. Nice fur. That pelt of yours would fetch quite a price."

"I'll be through the pass and well on my way to St. Martin before you get back to your homestead."

Werner shouted. "Either stay or leave; but close the door!"

The golden fox stepped aside and allowed the pair to pass, discreetly taking in the vixen's scent as she edged by him. He reached out and touched her shoulder.

"You will be blessed."

"Oh she will be blessed! By my fire she'll be blessed but good." Rufus wrapped his arm around her and disappeared into the icy morning haze. "Pilgrims..." He shook his head.

Aaron stepped into the shop and shut the door tightly. He pulled off his linen hat and slapped it onto his arms casting off a shower of ice. "I need a better hat to protect my ears from the cold. The weather is only going to get worse."

"A discerning fox such as you would certainly appreciate this." He reached up and presented a fine skunk fur hat. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer for the donor of the pelt. "This will certainly keep your ears warm for this season and those to come. The stitching is impeccable. See how well the skin is folded over and double stitched. This is a hat you will be able to pass to your heir."

"I'm sure some fortunate soul will appreciate it. But I am looking for something more...humble. Something that wouldn't attract the attention of the greedy or desperate."

"Do you need any special features?'

Aaron looked around the room. A young raccoon was fondling a pair of fine mittens. He winked at the lad and moved between the child and the proprietor.

"Many things get lost while traveling; but a hat is a constant companion. A compartment to hold valuables would be nice."

"How large a sanctuary would you need?"

The fox held up his paws and touched his fingers in the shape of a ball. "About this big."

"I have something in back, but it may not meet your standards. I'll get it for you."

As soon as Werner left the room, Aaron waved the raccoon to the door. Cold air coursed through the room as the youth left.

Werner poked his head out of the workshop. "Where did he go?"

"Who?"

"That raccoon kid; where did he go?"

"Oh, he just left."

"Did he swipe a pair of gloves?"

"No, I told him I would pay for them."

Werner raised an eyebrow. "Those were expensive you know!"

"I know." Aaron leaned close and whispered. "But we're alone now. Please. Tell me about this hat."

Werner bristled. "I fear the pelt isn't in very good shape and the style is outdated. But is it to your liking?"

"It is certainly humble, isn't it?" Aaron tugged at the seams and sniffed the hide. The fur was mange ridden, but there was no scent of its donor. The lining was superb. He felt inside and scowled.

"Let me show you." Werner unfolded a fake interior seam, which exposed a pouch. Pulling a drawstring revealed a discreet skyward opening. The price four barter marks, plus one for the gloves of course."

"Of course." Aaron pulled a heavy leather pouch off his belt and counted out five red pottery discs with an oak tree engraved on one side.

"Council Marks? That's rather indiscreet isn't it?"

"Yellowfox Clan marks would be hard to trade way up here." Aaron tried the hat on. It fit perfectly. "Very nice, I'll take it. But, there is something missing."

"Follow me." Werner led the way to the workshop and pulled back the flap.

"Ian." He shouted. "Watch the front for a while."

As soon as they were alone, he rummaged through a pile of pelts until he found the small wooden case. He opened it carefully and extracted a sphere. It felt warm and glowed like an opal eggshell.

Werner passed it to Aaron reverently. He took it and closed his eyes. His lips moved silently before slipping the key into his new hat. He put it on and looked into the mirror.

"I've heard stories about the quality of your craft Werner, but never expected this!"

Werner peeked through the flap, back into the shop. Ian turned away startled. He closed it again and whispered to Aaron. "I want to go with you."

"Your work is here. Without you, thousands of pilgrims would fall prey."

"I've earned Sanctuary. I've served loyally, and for a very long time now. My penance is paid."

"You have earned much and maybe you're worthy, but you're needed here. Without your work, so many would have no future. You must stay behind."

"Please Aaron. Please take me. Some always fall during the trek. There will be room for more. I know the habits of the predator clans. I can help you."

"Werner..." He placed a paw on his shoulder. "You have helped us and you continue to do so. We are grateful for that. You've saved thousands of souls from doom." He looked directly into Werner's eyes. "But we all have roles in this, and yours is here. I can't take you. If you were to disappear, it would be noticed immediately. You could be tracked. This is your fate. It's a good one, especially given the severity of your sin."

"It's not a good one. I'm a furrier; I reek of death. Every female knows what I do and shuns me. Dirt! My brother and I were only born because my father pressed a lost soul into his service. She left us as soon as the Kreik winter was over. If I stay here, I'll never have a willing mate. And Ian--"

"Ian doesn't have parents. You have to care for him now. He is your family. You can't abandon him."

"I don't want to abandon him!" Werner pounded his workbench. He looked into the sales floor. Ian was playing with mittens on his ears. "I want to save him. This life hasn't poisoned his mind yet."

Aaron took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Werner, There are many en route to sanctuary who pray for you every night. You give them the opportunity to live. This life is hard but you will be rewarded in paradise. You are the 'Keeper of the Key'. That is a great honor--"

"It's no great honor if I have to keep it a secret!"

"I'm sorry Werner, but you have to stay here." Aaron slipped Werner another barter mark. "Be generous with your wares and Samran will be generous with his blessings."

He clenched the marker in his fist and followed Aaron to the door. The priest crossed his arms in a sign of blessing, then stepped out of the shop and into the street.

Werner slammed the door. "If we are to have blessings, then I will have to take them!

* * *

"Ian, stop messing around. Remember, everything you pack you'll have to carry."

"Why are we leaving? The pilgrimage hasn't even started. There are a lot of customers to--"

"I don't think I'll make it this season and I don't want you to suffer because of me."

"Oh. Like trudging through the forest in winter is going to be fun. "

"We won't be in the cold for more than a couple weeks."

"Weeks?" Ian "What about our food? The money? What will--"

"Everything is in the old dry well under a tarp and covered it with ice. Nobody will sniff it out."

"The pelts?"

"Stop worrying Ian. We don't need it anymore. Besides, that Priest said I should be generous with my wares. So I'll be generous. We are not going back; at least not until the Eden cycle."

"You mean..."

"We are on our way to Sanctuary."

"We weren't chosen. You didn't even apply--"

"I don't need to apply. That fox you saw yesterday--the Priest. He owes me."

"How can he--"

"Stop asking questions. Dress warm and pack light. We're leaving."

* * *

"Come on Ian. We have a long way to go." Werner stopped for a moment to look back. Ian was puffing heavily.

"I can't keep up. I'm tired. I'm cold and I'm hungry."

Werner reached into his outer pack and grabbed a dried fish roll and tossed it. Ian caught it and sniffed it carefully. "Don't worry, I keep the ones with the bitter herbs for myself."

"I don't know how you can eat those."

"I like them. Besides, they help keep the pain out of my knees." He slapped Ian's back. "We need to keep moving." He winked. "It'll keep you warm."

"I need to rest. Your legs are like--twice as long as mine. I have to take two steps for every one of yours."

"Good point Ian. I didn't think of that. I'll take shorter steps."

"Thanks."

"And since I weigh like--twice as much as you, you can carry my pack."

"Hey! That's not fair."

"OK, then you have to keep up. Come on. I'll tell you a story while we walk."

"Can you tell me a Samran story?" He looked to the dull eastern sky and pointed. "The one about Sainis?"

Werner smiled. "Sure." He pulled a finely carved bone badger icon out of his vest. He touched it to his brow and placed the benevolent figurine back into his pocket.

"Long ago, way before the Great Oak in the Council Garden was planted, way back when our ancestors first began to walk upright, a wolf came to the badger clan. The sentries called out an alarm and the whole village grabbed anything they could find to defend their families. The wealthy clans ran out with their lances and knives. The craftsmen grabbed their axes and hammers. The poor farm workers grabbed rocks and torches. They all ran to the gate to face off against the wolf."

Werner pointed into the forest and began to walk a little faster. Ian stumbled and trotted a few steps to catch up.

"The Patriarch stood bravely in front of the clan and shouted 'Go back into the forest! This is our land. We will defend it and our families with every drop of blood in our veins.'"

Werner laid his ears back and frowned.

"'Please.' The wolf cried. 'I'm very hungry and cold. The Kreik cycle surprised me. I will die without shelter.'"

Werner squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. "The Patriarch was unmoved. 'That's your misfortune. You should have prepared better.'"

He glanced into Ian eyes. "The patriarch's daughter pulled at her father's tunic. 'Daddy, I thought you said Samran could wear any face. Shouldn't we offer our help?'"

The trail up Mount Graham got steeper and the trees began to thin out. He paused and sniffed the air before continuing. "Her father snarled. 'When you see one wolf, there are ten others you can't see. If they are hungry, they will kill us all. They might even eat us.'"

"'But Daddy, he is alone and asked for our help. We have to treat him as a friend until he proves he is an enemy.'

"'Rebekka, you're too young to understand. When you have children of your own--'"

Werner smiled and winked at Ian. "She actually interrupted her father, the head of her clan--right there in front of everyone. Can you believe it?"

Ian nodded and panted. "I...would...have...too."

Werner chuckled and scratched Ian's scalp. "Well, she said 'When I have children of my own, I will teach them the Law.' Then Rebekka walked out to the wolf, holding her hands apart. She called out to him, 'Approaching in peace.' When she got close enough to whisper, she said 'My father is afraid you will hurt me. But I would rather die in your jaws than violate the Law.' She pulled a hand full of dried fish rolls--just like the ones I gave you--out of her pocket and gave them to the wolf. Then she took off her linen jacket and wrapped it around his shoulders.'"

Werner laughed. "I bet it looked pretty funny don't you think? A big wolf wearing a badger girl's jacket." Ian smiled and nodded.

"So Rebekka led the wolf into the compound and sat with him by the fire in the Great Hall. Everyone could hear them talking, but no one understood a word they said." Werner stopped and took several deep breaths. Ian looked up at him. "Well? What then?"

"After what seemed like hours, they stood and faced the clan. The wolf began to glow. Rebekka said 'Follow us.' Then she and the wolf led the clan to the confluence of rivers."

"Why would they follow a little girl and a wolf?"

Werner stretched and began to walk again. "Because they knew...they could see that the wolf was really Samran himself."

"Really?"

"Really. When they got to the confluence, where the Council Temple stands now, all of the clans were there."

"How could they all fit there?"

"The world wasn't so crowded then. Samran's Law has blessed us all. Now there are too many of us and that's why we have a choosing. But back then it was different."

Werner spotted a clump of clean snow and stopped. He took a black leather bottle out of his pack and filled it, then put it on his back where the heat would slowly melt it. He sat on a mossy boulder and offered Ian a couple more fish rolls.

"All of the tribes came together with one clansman leading a glowing stranger. For some the stranger was a fox. For others it was a raccoon. Some even saw Samran as a badger." He tilted his head sideways. "For us it was a wolf. But we..." He looked at the snow. "We were the only clan led by a child."

He tried to smile. "When all of the clans came together, the glowing strangers merged. Everyone saw the stranger become one of their own. And Samran spoke in a clear and gentle voice. 'Every clan has a leader who walked with me. They know me and are my devout servants. Honor them. You are now one Great Clan. You may eat any of the fish or fowl given to you, but you may not eat of another mammal.' Samran smiled and held his arms apart. 'Build a gathering place here for all of my devout servants. Those with faith and understanding will congregate here to grow in wisdom and spread mercy.'"

Werner ate a bitter roll.

Ian raised an eyebrow. "The Grand Council?"

Werner nodded. "Yep. The first. He then called the leader of the Raccoon clan and said 'Martin, there is a sanctuary--"

"Martin? Like Saint Martin, the town?"

"That's right. They named it after him." Werner stood. "Samran said 'Martin, there is a sanctuary hidden in the ground that will protect all of the people. You will lead the clans there to rest through the Kreik. Use the time well. Devote yourselves to knowledge, wisdom and compassion.'"

"Do you know where it is?"

"Very few know where it is, but that fox is one of them."

"Can't you just ask someone who--"

"No, Samran gave Martin a key-it's the last surviving artifact from Samran. When it's exposed to the sky, all senses are confused. Only the bearer, the true guide is immune. The only way to find it is to know where it is and be in possession of the key."

"I bet that key doesn't look like a normal--"

"Don't ask any more questions--"

"I was only saying--"

"You are digging into things you shouldn't. You asked about the Cainis story." Werner unpacked his mittens and put them on. He stood and began to walk up the trail again. "Come on, we are behind schedule. We need to get through the pass before moonrise."

Ian picked up his pack and followed. "So will you tell me the rest?"

"Will you stop probing?"

"Yes sir."

"OK. Well, Samran turned to Rebekka and said 'Your clan was nearly lost. They did not keep the law. You alone stood for me.' He knelt down to her look into her face. 'All living things will eventually pass back to the soil. Your clan will be the caretakers of the underworld.' She began to cry but Samran said 'Do not despair. In caring for the dead, you will comfort the living. You will teach the value of life. Life will abound, but a time will come when the tribes will need materials that can only be made from skin and bone to survive. Your clan will choose members to produce these things. You may only use the carcasses of those who return to the soil naturally. None may be harmed in the quest for materials.' Then Samran said 'When I rise in the stars as a canine, you will know that the time for pilgrimage has begun.' Then he raised his arms and in a bright flash he flew like sparks into the sky and took the shape of the dog, the constellation called Cainis."

Ian shook his head. "Caretakers of the underworld?"

"It is our clan's curse, so few ever mention it. Most deny it, but I know it's true."

"It sounds like Samran meant it as a blessing." Ian smiled.

"Blessing? What do you know about blessings? So far you've only handled cured pelts." Werner stopped and spun around. He raised his fists and looked for something to hit but above the tree line, the barren pass offered no target. "Wait until the Eden Spring; when frozen corpses start showing up. After you strip the skin off a pretty young female and grind her bones into needles and tools, then you can talk about blessings." He pointed at Ian. "You lost your parents. I did too. I know how much that hurts. But believe me--you have no concept of pain yet." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "And, I hope you never do...."