by Laura Taylor
“Ah.” Damn, but he was hard to read sometimes. The question itself implied a certain interest in her, a subtle hope, perhaps, that she was single. But once he had his answer, there was no further attempt at pursuing the idea. No subtle hint that he might like to fill the role. Just a flat acknowledgement of the situation. What was she supposed to say to that?
The problem was solved a moment later when Faeydir gave her another nudge. “I don’t mean to change the subject all of a sudden,” she said, rather grateful for the interruption, “but Faeydir really needs to go for a run.”
Mark nodded. “Of course.” He led the way out of the workshop, then headed to the left, around the side of the house and across the lawn, towards the edge of the forest. “Anywhere in particular she’d like to go?”
“Just into the forest. I think she just wants to explore for a bit.”
“No problem.” Mark shifted, then looked up at her expectantly. Dee had to laugh suddenly, as Faeydir bounced around in her head like a six-year-old who’d just been told she was going to a birthday party. She retreated and let the shift wash over her.
This time, unlike the frantic chase of her last run, the almost desperate embracing of freedom, Faeydir ran just for the pleasure of it, muscles stretching and loosening, fast, but not furious. There were tracks through the undergrowth, faint scents informing them of the wolves who had come this way recently, a few distinct territory markings from Baron, a blood smear where someone had caught and killed a rabbit.
After a while, they came to a small stream, running down from higher up the hill, and Faeydir decided to follow it. They headed up the hill, through ferns and under bushes, over a hollow log, always keeping beside the water, and Dee felt an odd sensation in her mind. A strange sense of disconnection, like déjà vu. Almost like she was dreaming.
Could she be dreaming? Was all this just a figment of her imagination – the kidnapping, the Den, becoming a wolf? Was she actually lying in bed in her cosy flat, soon to wake and sigh with relief as she realised that the jarring changes to her life were no more than a particularly vivid nightmare?
They came to a level clearing with a wall of ferns surrounding a small pool, no more than a trickle, but it cascaded over rocks in a small waterfall before falling a foot or so into a pool below, and the surreal feeling got stronger.
Faeydir moved closer, sniffing. There was a scent here, one she liked, and yet it also made her tense, anxious. She whined a little, looked around for Mark, then edged closer to the pool again. An image flashed in Dee’s mind of a much larger pool, a forest clearing, other wolves and several humans standing around. The sound of chanting filled her ears, but there was no chanting here. She and Mark were alone.
Electricity tingled up Dee’s spine, a creeping sensation that set warning bells ringing in her mind. She tried to ask Faeydir what was wrong, tried to tap into the wolf’s mind to see what she was thinking. An overwhelming surge of light shot back at her, a sense of hovering over a vast, empty space, a feeling of being flung backwards through time to a much, much more primitive place… and then everything went black.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Dee came to slowly. She could hear voices around her, two people arguing, other voices, low and gentle, someone scolding the ones arguing. She felt the crackle of electricity along her skin and then a sharp jolt. Her body felt odd, like it was floating, and then she heard shouting. She tried to make out the words…
“Caroline! Get over here. She’s doing it again.”
More electricity, then warm hands on her face, her neck, and the static died down. A whining sound in her head, dizziness… she tried to open her eyes and felt the room spin.
“Lie still,” Mark told her gently but firmly, pressing her back onto the pillow, and she realised she was back in her room, lying on the bed.
“Lie still!” Caroline was standing over her, trying to hold her down, and it was only then that Dee realised she was trying to get up.
She lay back, feeling static electricity build up again, then fade out. “What happened?”
“We went for a run in the forest,” Mark said, concern all over his face. “And then you passed out and started shifting uncontrollably. Baron carried you back here and Caroline’s been trying to keep you in human form. Your wolf was having convulsions for a while there.”
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Baron asked, stepping forward. Behind him were Skip, Tank and Heron, an older lady who had spent time with her in the cages, and she caught a glimpse of Kwan and Aaron outside the door. Great. She’d managed to become a circus side show again. She glanced at Mark and felt him squeeze her hand. For a moment it distracted her from her nausea and unease.
“I was in the forest, like Mark said. By the stream. And then…” And then what? She checked in with Faeydir, only to have the wolf whimper and snarl at her. “And then Faeydir remembered something. A waterfall. A pool in a clearing in a forest. There were two tall trees on either side of the pool, and three jagged rocks sticking out of the water.” She looked up at Baron. “I think it was where she lived before she and I were joined…” She trailed off as every jaw in the room dropped.
“You saw what?” Baron asked, and it was a rare thing to see him so off guard. “That’s… Have you ever been to France?”
Dee’s eyes widened. “No. Never.”
“Wow.” It was Caroline who breathed the word, and then she had to concentrate as Dee felt another shift coming on. Caroline managed to control it, her hands still on Dee’s shoulders, but she could tell the effort was wearing on her. How long had she been out?
Dee tried to focus, tried to find out if Faeydir knew what had caused this, but the wolf was off in la-la land, clawing at the edges of Dee’s mind. The instant she offered to let the wolf out, Faeydir retreated, whimpering in fear. “What’s France got to do with anything?” she asked when she got nothing sensible from the wolf.
“There’s a forest in the mountains,” Caroline said, awe in her voice. “A sacred clearing where conversions were performed up until only last century. The landscape creates a natural focal point that attracts lightning – which was vital for a conversion until we learned how to use electricity to the same effect. Hundreds of shifters have been converted in that exact spot. That Faeydir has seen it… I don’t even know what that means.”
Baron was looking rather shaken. “We’ve always worked on the assumption that the wolf side of us is born, or created, when the conversion takes place. But if your wolf was around beforehand… Fuck. Like Caroline said, I have no idea what that could mean.”
“Is Faeydir angry about being with you?” Skip asked shyly, peering around Baron. “Has she said anything?”
“No. I mean, she’s been angry about things, frustrated with different people and situations, but she’s never complained about being stuck with me. I think she actually likes it.”
Baron and Caroline exchanged a look that Dee couldn’t read. And then Baron shook his head ever so slightly, an answer to a silent question that only made Caroline scowl all the more.
“Do you think you can control the shifting now?” Caroline asked, more gently than her usual harsh tone, and Dee nodded. She sat up cautiously, allowing Faeydir to retreat to the back of her mind.
“I think I’m good.”
“I’d suggest you stay in bed until the festival tonight.”
“And when you’re feeling better,” Baron added, “we’re going to have to talk about this.”
“Faeydir’s terrified,” Dee blurted out. “I don’t know if she’s going to want to discuss what happened.”
“You come with a fair dose of weird, Dee, and for the most part we accept that,” Baron said sharply. “But this is totally off the radar. So like it or not, sooner or later Faeydir’s going to have to face up to who – or what – she is. Now,” he said, turning to the rest of the room. “Everybody out. Let Dee get some rest. Heron, can you stay with her for a while?”
“Of course,” Hero
n said, pulling up a chair next to the bed. “No problem at all.”
By the time six o’clock came around, Dee was feeling a lot better. She showered and changed, then followed Heron downstairs and out onto the patio. The need for an immediate chaperone was waived for this one night due to the fact that the entire Den would be out with her and she would be the centre of attention for much of the evening.
Most of the shifters were already gathered on the back patio when they arrived, and Dee felt immediately self-conscious as everyone turned to stare at her. Heron squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry. Usually when we do this ceremony, we’ve had a few years to get to know the convert. With you, everyone’s just a little more curious than usual.”
“Then why are people glaring at me?” Dee asked in a whisper.
“They’re not sure where you’ll fit into the pecking order. There are two sides to the social aspects of the Den. The human side is thrilled to have a new member, someone to strengthen our numbers. But each person’s wolf side feels that you threaten their place in the ranks.”
“But no one’s allowed to challenge me to a fight tonight, right?”
“That’s right,” Heron said. Caroline had mentioned that in one of her training sessions – once Dee was a fully-fledged member of Il Trosa, she would be expected to fight the other wolves to establish her place in the pecking order. The fights were controlled, designed to display strength and skill, and not to seriously injure anyone, but nonetheless, Dee was rather nervous about the idea. “But tomorrow,” Heron went on, “you’ll be considered a regular member of the pack. And that means you’ll either have to accept the disadvantages of being the omega wolf, or start fighting for status.”
The light was fading quickly, but a dozen torches were lit around the edge of the patio, providing more than enough light to see by. There were long tables covered with dishes of food, cold salads, steaming vegetables, a massive tray of meat, and at one end of the table was a large dish full of beef bones and chicken carcasses – food for any hungry wolf, no doubt.
Dee glanced up, seeing that the sky was clear, only a few faint wisps of cloud marring the stars, and a quarter moon was lending a silvery light to everything in the garden. It was a beautiful, almost magical scene.
Suddenly a loud, full-throated wolf howl broke into the night. Beside the bonfire, Baron and Caroline both stood in wolf form, heads thrown back, howling at the sky.
“I thought that wasn’t allowed,” Dee whispered to Heron, nonetheless enchanted by the sound.
“Tonight is an exception. For ceremonial purposes. Only those two, though, and only once.”
The howls died out, leaving Dee with shivers down her spine as a thick silence descended on the estate.
Baron and Caroline both shifted, electricity crackling over their bodies in the dark, giving them an ethereal, mystical quality. Then Baron took up one of the torches and lit the bonfire. It took quickly, the flames leaping up to engulf the pile of wood.
He looked even bigger than usual, and Dee realised that he had a thick fur thrown around his shoulders. Deer, maybe? Or… it couldn’t be a bear skin, could it? Caroline was similarly adorned, her fur identifiable as a large cat of some sort, and they made their way to the middle of the group, coming to a stop directly in front of Dee.
Baron addressed her first. “Dee Carman. Faeydir. For thousands of years, the shifters have bridged the gap between human and animal. Between wilderness and civilisation. For six hundred years, Il Trosa has held sway over the European continent, preserving our species, protecting our kind from humans, maintaining our history and our secrecy.
“Now you, too, carry the wolf within you. You are hereby called upon to swear an oath of loyalty to your brethren. Loyalty to us earns our loyalty to you, assistance from any wolf in Il Trosa, and access to any resource or knowledge that we lay claim to. Tonight, you become one of us.”
Baron stepped aside, and Caroline took his place. “Your oath to Il Trosa is a sacred responsibility. Should you ever betray us, then every member of our species is charged with your execution. You will be hunted from shore to shore, country to country, continent to continent, until your betrayal is repaid. Likewise, you now take on the responsibility of hunting anyone who betrays Il Trosa, be they friend, lover, brother or sister.”
She stepped back, standing side by side with Baron. “Do you understand these privileges?” Baron asked. “Do you understand these responsibilities?”
“I understand them and call them my own,” Dee responded, as she had been instructed.
“Then repeat after me. I, Dee Carman, renounce my human life.” Dee repeated the words, wondering what Faeydir thought of all this. She hadn’t had much to say since the shocks of the afternoon, and Dee found it curious that her wolf wasn’t being asked for any pledge of loyalty. “I renounce my human family,” Baron went on, as Dee repeated his words. “I renounce my worldly possessions and take on the mantle of Pack Member, Shape Shifter, Wolf. I pledge my allegiance to Il Trosa, vow my loyalty to my Den, swear my obedience to the Council, and forfeit my life should I break this vow.” Even as she said the words, Dee couldn’t help but think of Mark. He had broken this vow – she wasn’t sure of all the details involved, nor of the exact reasons for his actions, but a sense of foreboding filled her. By staying silent about his visit to the lab, she was breaking her own vow – having only just made it.
The recitation ended, and the gathered crowd was silent.
“Is there anyone here,” Caroline asked, loud and clear across the hushed audience, “who knows of any reason why Dee should not be accepted into Il Trosa and made a member of this Den?”
“I have reason.” Two voices spoke up at once, and though she had been warned of this possibility, Dee felt her heart lurch. She was fast running out of options here. She was already dead, according to the human world. She was on shaky ground as a shifter, Faeydir an anomaly even amongst the shifters, and then there was that odd conversation she’d had with Silas. He wasn’t the only one to fear her, she was learning. And now there were members of the Den objecting to her joining them…
“Explain yourself,” Baron demanded of the first man – Dee didn’t know his name, but he was in his thirties, wore glasses and had a geekish look about him.
“All indications say that Dee hasn’t been able to merge with her wolf, that the so-called Faeydir can’t be controlled. What assurance do we have that this doesn’t pose a threat to our Den?”
Baron regarded the man with a derisive scowl. “Simon. If I believed for a moment that you had a genuine concern for your safety, I just might take that seriously. But I have a sneaking suspicion you’re referring to a rather obscure myth instead. Am I right?”
Simon glared back at him. “Our mythology informs us of our origins, our place in this world and our future. I know there are those here who don’t take those myths literally, but others of us do. My objection stands.”
A murmur spread through the crowd, some agreeing with Simon, others mocking him, and Dee felt a tremor go through her body. She could be in serious trouble here.
“And you?” Caroline asked next, addressing a dark-skinned woman in her forties, the second to have voiced an objection, and Dee assumed this must be Raniesha, the only female wolf she had yet to meet.
“Dee’s sire is unknown,” Raniesha said coldly. “Il Trosa has gone to great efforts to trace our lineages. Almost every member can list their sires back ten or twelve generations. We can trace our bloodlines all the way back to the Four Mothers. Why should we accept someone with no breeding?”
It was a valid question as far as Dee was concerned, and she wondered what Caroline would have to say to that. But before the alpha female could form any kind of answer, a deep growl broke the quiet, and everyone turned to see John, teeth bared, skin crackling with electricity, eyes fixed on Raniesha.
“Oh, fuck, I wasn’t talking about you,” she snapped, her voice full of disdain for the younger man.
Raniesha paled at the insult – Dee had no idea what Baron was referring to, knowing nothing of Raniesha’s life before she became a shifter, but it was clearly an issue of some significance. “I wasn’t talking about John!” Raniesha protested again, though she was sounding less assured now.
Baron stepped back, tugging a still snarling John with him, then addressed the crowd. “More than half of you have witnessed Dee shift. Does anyone who has seen her do so have any reason to believe she is not a full-blooded wolf?”
A chorus of ‘no’ rumbled back at them.
“Then let us take the vote,” Caroline announced. “The affirmative vote will be cast to my left, the negative to my right. Proceed.”
Dee watched, heart in her throat as the members of the Den split. Baron and Caroline moved first, placing their vote to the left. Mark followed them, along with Heron, Skip and John, and Dee was a little surprised to find Silas heading that way too. His surly attitude had made her expect him to try and get rid of her at the first opportunity.
But Raniesha and Simon headed for the right, along with another man Dee didn’t know, and then Caleb, of all people. After his promise to support her, he was now trying to kick her out?
A few others took longer to decide, with Alistair the last to move. He stood in the centre of the patio, staring at Dee intently. Finally, he took a step to the affirmative side.
“The vote is called,” Baron announced. “Twelve for, six against. Dee Carman,” he said, shooting her a sly grin. “Welcome to Il Trosa.”
Relief filled her, a shaky smile growing as the sentiment was echoed by a dozen voices. She was dying of curiosity about whatever this myth was that was causing so much trouble, and she resolved to look it up in the library at the first opportunity. But for the moment, there were other things to be attended to, and she tried to put the issue from her mind.
