Prologue

Unfolding his glimmering wings, the little man flew cautiously toward the cave.

It was a dismal place. The narrow entrance was pitch-dark, lit only by the faint luminescence that clung to his body. Its usual inhabitant had to squeeze through, crouching and crawling, but to the little man it seemed immense: he measured only six inches from head to foot. The air inside smelled of moist earth and decaying leaves.

Ten feet in, he emerged into a larger space, surrounded by stone walls that glistened as if damp but were dry to the touch. With a wave of his hand he projected a powerful beam in front of him. Two deep blue orbs glowed from a dark recess. He turned the light toward them, finally illuminating the creature he’d come to see.

“It’s been a long time.” The little man’s voice was surprisingly resonant, given his size.

“Yes, it has,” the creature answered in a deep rumble.

He alit near the creature and sat down on a stone, stretching out his wings slowly, the way an old man might stretch a stiff leg or back. “Would you mind a little more light? I can’t think in this darkness.”

The creature nodded.

He held his hands in front of him, palms facing. As he moved them in circles, as if rolling clay into a ball, a tiny point of light formed between them and began to grow. When it had reached the size of an apple, with a flick of his wrist he sent the ball of light floating up toward the roof of the cavern, filling the space with a warm, comfortable glow.

“Now, that’s much better.” He took his first proper look at his host. “You’re showing your age.”

“As are you, Xavier. And you take a great risk, leaving the protection of your forest.”

“I doubt I’ll find an enemy who’d follow me into the home of the Lord of Wolves, Udd Lyall.”

Reflexively the creature snarled at the mention of this name and title, which had not been spoken for some time. The little man smiled and reached into his pocket, drawing out what looked like an emerald in the shape of a child’s top.

“I had hoped that the signs were only my imagination,” said Udd Lyall.

“No, old friend. I’m afraid not.” Xavier held the top tightly in his palm, head bowed, searching for the right words.

“Are you absolutely sure?” Udd Lyall asked, before Xavier could begin.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Xavier’s voice was distant.

“I’d come to think that it would not take place in my lifetime.”

“That it did is one of the few things that gives me any real hope.”

After a long silence, Xavier opened his palm. The top began to spin, flecks of intense green light whirling out across the cavern. Slowly the flecks converged on the farthest wall, and an image came into focus: an infant, sleeping in a woman’s arms.

“She’s human?”

“Yes, and more vulnerable than I ever imagined.” Xavier closed his hand over the glowing top, and the image vanished. “She must be protected until she can begin her training.”

“How long do we have before he is powerful enough to challenge us?”

“Not long enough.”

“You have a plan?”

“I do.” Xavier smiled sadly. “Someone must watch over her until we can bring her to Illuminora.”

“Many have tried to cross over through the years, and failed. How do you plan to get someone to her?”

“It’s . . . complicated. It will require all my knowledge—and a very powerful friend. One as dedicated as I am, and willing to sacrifice much.”

Udd Lyall looked down at Xavier, studying his good friend for a long time. He trusted Xavier absolutely, though the winged man’s ways might be mysterious. “I know enough of the human world to know I would not fit in. There I’m the stuff of nightmares, not dreams.”

“That,” Xavier said solemnly, “is a crucial part of the plan.”

“Who is it? . . . The dark one.”

Xavier looked pained. “The prince of the Dorans.”

“The boy? Thanerbos? Surely not . . .” Udd Lyall trailed off, distressed. “He can’t be more than two years old.”

“I’m afraid so. His father, the king, has already banished him, much as it tore at his heart to do so.”

A long, quiet moment passed. “I saw the boy once, at the celebration of his birth,” Udd Lyall said finally.

“As did I.”

An unspoken grief passed between them, both for a life lost and for the trials to come. There was little else to be said.

Xavier stood, and began making his way back to the opening.

“When do I leave?” Udd Lyall called out.

Xavier looked back with a somber smile.

“Soon, my friend. Soon.”

Chapter 1

A Surprise Gift

Charles Hopewell had first taken to the woods as energetically as the two-year-old black Lab bounding ahead of him, but that didn’t last long. About two miles in, feeling a little out of shape—at least, for a firefighter and former soldier—and very old, he was regretting his decision to take the family dog out for a jog instead of kicking back with a soda and a Nationals game. To make matters worse, the sky was ominously dark. It looked like the storm the local news had been talking about for days was coming in ahead of schedule.

Distracted by the deep rumble overhead, Charles didn’t notice Cricket’s leash going slack until a sudden backward jerk pulled his feet out from under him. He glared at Cricket, who’d stopped to snuffle at a bush by the trail, then smiled ruefully. At least no one had witnessed his ignominious fall.

Climbing gingerly to his feet, he swiped ineffectually at the mud and leaves decorating his backside. He hobbled back to Cricket, who was looking up at him with anxious brown eyes.

“Whatcha got there, girl?” He pulled her away and peered under the bush, but it was too dark to see much. He paused. No sound. Nothing moved. It must have been a squirrel.

Just as he’d begun to straighten, he heard a whine. Barking wildly, Cricket started pawing at the bush.

“Easy, girl.” Charles knelt and reached under the bush, touching soft fur. A damp tongue licked his hand. Carefully he pulled the little creature out: a skinny, dirty puppy with startling blue eyes. Taking off his sweatshirt, he wrapped it snugly around the pup. Who’d be cruel enough to dump a puppy out here? If he hadn’t found it before the storm . . .

Cricket danced around him, tail beating hard. “You’re a hero,” he said, rubbing her behind the ears.

#

Back at the house, Melody ran out to greet her father, her blond hair disheveled and smelling of the outdoors. “What’s that, Daddy?” she asked, tugging at his pant leg and looking up at him with the deep green eyes he shared with both his children.

Charles smiled at his five-year-old daughter and then glanced anxiously at the darkening sky. “I’ll show you when we get inside.”

In the living room, he unwrapped his sweatshirt as the whole family looked on. Both his girls were enchanted. Within minutes his elder daughter, Scarlet, was holding the little creature close to her chest, pressing her cheek to his, the pup disappearing beneath an avalanche of copper-red curls. And then the inevitable magic words: “Can we keep him, Dad? Can we?”

Charles glanced uneasily at his wife. Allie didn’t look quite as thrilled. “We’ll talk about it, honey,” he said, but Scarlet hardly seemed to hear him. She was already crouched on the floor, playing tug-of-war with the blue-eyed pup.

#

The house was quiet, the girls asleep. Lamps glowed softly in the living room. They’d settled the puppy into a makeshift bed, convinced the girls that he needed a little peace, and gone out to get some puppy food. After dinner, Scarlet had begged to keep him in her room. Allie had finally given in, making her promise to let him rest.

“Charles, I don’t want to be the bad guy.” Allie leaned back against the arm of the sofa, trying to look stern. “But we already have a dog. And we know nothing about this puppy.”

“I know, honey, but I’m sure it’s been abandoned. I couldn’t just leave it out in the storm.”

“Still, someone could be looking for it.” Allie knew what a soft spot Charles had for his daughters, not to mention for helpless pups. It was part of what she liked about him, but someone had to keep things on an even keel. “We don’t want Scarlet to get too attached before we know for sure.”

“You’re right. Strange, though, how quickly they seemed to hit it off. It just seems meant to be. Even Melody didn’t try to take him away.”

“I know. But let’s make sure he doesn’t belong to someone else.” Allie paused, pensive. “She’d have to accept all the responsibility . . . I guess she’s plenty old enough.”

“You’re right,” Charles said reluctantly, gazing up at the family pictures on the mantel. “I just can’t believe she’ll be fourteen next week.”

Allie smiled ruefully at the wistfulness in his voice. If he had his way, Scarlet would stay his little girl forever. “Oh, all right, then. Let’s give it a week to make sure no one claims the puppy, and teach Scarlet how to take care of him. If she can manage that on her own . . . well, her birthday’s coming up.”

#

The morning of Scarlet’s birthday, she headed downstairs with a hopeful skip in her walk. No one had called the number on the notices her parents put up. Taking care of a puppy had been hard at first, harder than she’d ever realized. She had to remember to feed him twice a day, make sure dog food was on the shopping list, take him out, and teach him to behave. That last part had been easy, though. Sometimes it felt more as if he was taking care of her, helping her prove she could handle things.

In the kitchen, the weatherman was droning on about another storm. Again? The weather had been crazy lately.

She slid the glass patio door open to let the puppy and their black Labrador Cricket out. Pulling her red hair absentmindedly into a ponytail, she watched the two dogs frolic in the yard. If she didn’t know better, she could have sworn the puppy was playing fetch with Cricket. He’d grab the tennis ball and, using his tiny neck muscles, hurl it with surprising strength out into the yard so Cricket could chase it down and bring it back.

Finally she turned and sat down at the breakfast table. Neither of her parents looked up. Her dad was reading the paper, her mom filling out that day’s sudoku.

“Good morning.” Scarlet grinned. Her parents loved this little act, year after year.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there.” Her dad glanced up briefly. “Good morning.”

Her mom kept her eyes on her puzzle. “I was thinking we might run a few errands today, dear,” she said to her husband.

He grunted. “I could use a trip to the hardware store.”

Scarlet shook her head, but she didn’t mind her parents’ game. It was kind of a family tradition. To be honest, she’d miss it if they stopped.

“I’ll go with, if you don’t mind,” she said. “I need some school supplies.”

They looked up simultaneously, surprised. Then, unable to keep straight faces any longer, they laughed.

“Happy birthday!” they exclaimed in unison, getting up to hug their daughter.

#

That afternoon the puppy played dutifully with Scarlet’s small cousins, never protesting at the occasional pulled ear. He never got underfoot while the guests milled around, playing party games and eating cake and ice cream. He sat, lay down, rolled over, let out his tiny bark, even shook hands, all at Scarlet’s dad’s command.

Finally he sat dutifully beside her, watching with quiet interest as she unwrapped each gift—clothes, board games, and, most of all, books. When all had been opened, her mom snuck out and returned with a small rectangular box. “I know you already got your presents from us, but we just couldn’t help ourselves. Here’s another one.”

Scarlet opened the box. Then she leaped from her chair and threw her arms around her mom’s neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Mom!”

“You’re welcome.” Her mom’s eyes were misty. “Happy birthday.”

“And you too, Dad.” Scarlet hugged him and then picked up the puppy, who nuzzled her cheek. Still clutched in her hand was a small blue collar.

“Don’t worry, little one,” Scarlet whispered to the puppy in her room that evening. “You’re home now.” He nestled himself into the crook of her arm, almost immediately falling asleep.

It was funny, though.

Just before he closed his eyes, she could almost swear he winked.