by Candy Nicks
The wolf watched patiently from the trees. Sol almost missed its steady amber stare but when he did step towards it, the wolf backed away, chin raised in challenge.
He stared back, torn between caution and meeting the wolf's challenge head on. Then he pulled a haunch from the carcass and set it carefully on the ground.
"For Tian,” he said. “And thank you. The food is most welcome."
Only when he turned his back did he hear the wolf run forward to grab it. When he glanced over his shoulder, both wolf and meat had disappeared.
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Chapter 4
The wolf finished its fastidious grooming, licked its lips and changed. Tian snatched up her coat, shivering in the early morning air. Each day the chill deepened and soon the gathering clouds would release their shroud of snow upon the landscape.
First the higher then the lower slopes, where she and her mother had built their hut, would disappear under the cloak of white. Time for nature to sleep and recharge. For silence and contemplation. A time for her to properly grieve.
Poor Sol had looked in so much pain. Astounding that someone would risk his life for a stranger. She would not have made the same decision. The debt she now owed him disturbed her. An innate sense of honour told her that, before she could retire to the mountain, the debt needed to be repaid.
She pulled out the Stone she'd taken from his saddle-pack and let it rest on her outstretched palm. Clear and crystalline, it spoke to her in a language she'd never heard. Energy pulsed from the stone and suffused her whole body. With the energy came pictures and memories. Things she should know and things she might have forgotten. A whole history of her kind, replayed for her through the Collective Memory.
She felt the elation and saw rise of the Lupines to become the Goddess's right hand. Their terrible fall from grace. Fire and sacrifice. A joyful reunion. Sol as a child—it could only be him. A man with beads in his hair and evil in his eyes. The Lupine, living in harmony with human-kind. The future, the past.
What did it all mean? And why did the crystal-stone speak to her so eloquently?
Tian rose and made her way down the slope, stopping to place a wildflower on her mother's grave. Only time would heal the void left by her death. Time would dim the memories too. Already she struggled to remember the sound of her mother's voice.
In the clearing, she found Sol sitting on the porch step, scraping his chin with the razor she'd seen in his pack. The other arm was held stiffly against his chest. Sunlight glinted from a small mirror propped on the porch rail and periodically, Sol dipped the razor into a bowl of steaming water and then shook it out and angled his head to continue. She watched him carefully work the razor around the scratches on his cheek and hoped the scrapes wouldn't leave scars. That would be a shame.
She only knew of men what her mother had taught her. A biased view, no doubt, given her experience. Tian resolved to judge Sol by his actions, not by her preconceptions of him. She also resolved to stand firm in her decision to leave once she'd repaid her debt.
She had many questions to ask him. Would it hurt to indulge her curiosity? He flashed a warm smile when she broke cover and raised his hand in greeting with only a slight tensing of undoubtedly sore muscles. Even from a distance, he made an imposing figure with his startling hair falling free over broad shoulders. She had no idea hair of such a colour existed. Nor that men could be so tall.
While she approached, he wiped off his face with a small cloth and then occupied himself with the horses. Each received a bag of the dry-feed, which he hooked over their heads. They stood side by side, munching noisily. She laughed unexpectedly at the strange sight.
She glanced up to find Sol closing a button on his jacket. The sleeve on his injured side hung free. Underneath, his chest was bare. She immediately thought, with some discomfort, of her own naked skin, hidden only by her coat. A shift from the intimacy of the previous day to an awkwardness that turned them back into strangers.
"Thank you for the breakfast. And the hot water.” Sol waved in the direction of the cooling carcass. “Very thoughtful of you. Tell your wolf thank you, too."
He knew all the niceties of conversation and behaviour. She did not. He pushed his hair behind his ears, careful not to disturb the bandage binding his wound, and waited for her reply.
"A small repayment for the debt I owe you. Which I will repay in full before I leave. How are you today?"
Sol inclined his head in understanding. “Sore, but very happy to be alive. And you?"
"And me, what?” She risked a tentative stroke of the gelding's neck “If you're asking how I am, my honest answer is that I don't know. Your arrival has confused me at a time when I needed to have a clear head."
"Be careful, he can be temperamental."
"Oh, he'll be fine with me if I stay human."
"Tian, take coffee with me and talk a while. I would like to know something about you. How did the two of you manage here, all these years? Who built this hut? Have you ever tasted coffee?"
"My mother once bartered for some at one of the trading fairs. Yes, I remember it being dark and rich. I can't stay long."
"Boil a kettle of water, I'll grind the beans."
"You bought a grinder with you?"
Sol winked. A boyish grin lit up his face. “Bit of a weakness of mine. Can't live without my coffee."
"Let me grind it,” Tian said. “If I keep returning to the house, it will be more difficult for me to leave. And besides, your arm..."
Sol nodded. “I understand. Where's the water-kettle?"
"Under the sink. On dry days, we cook outdoors. I mean, we used to...” She checked herself and to her surprise, was able to continue in a voice that did not crack or waver. “The kitchen is in the stone hut, separate from the house. For safety more than anything."
Sol descended the porch steps and groped for the saddle-packs stowed under the boards. “You and your mother built all this? With no help?"
"You mean with no help from a man?” The small mirror caught her reflection. Half a face stared back at her. She tilted her chin. After eighteen years of this life, still strangely at odds with the dark-haired, amber-eyed creature who stared back. Woman, wolf, Lupine. What was she, really?
"Didn't mean to offend.” Sol's voice drifted from under the porch. “Your mother must have been quite a lady."
"Oh yes. To the end, her spirit remained unshaken."
Sol rattled a small pouch and brought it to his nose, sniffing appreciatively. “City blend. “Guaranteed to wake the dead'."
"Really? Oh...” Hope rose, then quickly withered. A jest, nothing more. Heat flushed her cheeks. She took the coffee pouch and the grinder from Sol and turned away from his concerned face.
"I'm sorry. Tactless of me,” he said. “Tian, it helps to talk of the dead. You don't have to keep it inside. When did your mother pass over?"
"In the spring. I laid the last of the mourning stones at the turn of the second moon."
"And you're leaving because of me?"
"No."
"Then why did you spend all summer storing food and fuel? You have more than enough to see you through to next spring. Am I driving you away?"
"You credit yourself with too much."
"Here.” Sol stepped closer and twisted the metal cover of the bean-hopper. “It sticks."
The slide of his long fingers against hers felt deliberate, lingering for a heartbeat before he moved them away. His hair fell forward and mingled with hers in a contrast of light and dark. When he stepped back, the strands caught the static from the crisp dry air and clung to each other as if in unspoken question. Sol deftly separated them while she stood motionless and told herself she could resist his subtle charms.
This man, who claimed to have lived around Lupines for most of his life, must realise that she could read him like a map drawn in the sand. Did he want her to hear his heartbeat picking up pace when he stepped nearer to her? How his breathing hitched, eve
r so slightly when he looked at her? She felt the pain of his abused shoulder as if it were her own.
Sol spoke in low, even tones, as one might to a skittish doe. The wolf retreated, taking with it her sight. The human might be easy prey for such a worldly man, but the wolf refused to fall into the snare he weaved so expertly.
She felt for the coffee beans and tipped a measure into the grinder. The wolf was right to remind her that without it, she was blind and virtually helpless.
Tian, it said. You stay too long. Remember your promise.
I haven't forgotten. I will repay my debt to Sol, then we will go. Give me your eyes. I need to see.
The wolf relented eventually and the world returned, with the sight of Sol hauling water from the well with his good arm.
"Let me,” she said. “I'll finish the beans then draw some water. You sit here and rest. You need to heal in order to return home."
He conceded without argument and crossed the clearing to drop heavily next to her on the step. “Would you strap this arm for me?” he said. “Needs to be immobilised."
"For how long?"
"Seven, maybe ten days."
She gave the grinder arm one last turn and pulled out the box containing the dark powder. It smelled new and rich with hints of worlds and lives she could only imagine. All of it out there, beyond the plains.
"My mother told me the Great City is made of pure gold. Have you ever seen it?"
"No. My mother and father were captured and held as slaves there, many years ago. It's where they met. I'll tell you their story before I leave. Here,” he said offering a tin pot with a finely perforated lid. “Put the coffee in the top and slowly pour on boiling water."
He'd made a bad job of shaving. Patches of pale stubble covered his cheek and chin where he'd scraped around the scratches. Above his eyebrow she noticed an older scar from an earlier injury. Had this warrior ever known battle? Or killed a man? What did he dream of when he slept? Frank and open though his pale grey eyes were, she knew nothing of his past save the little he'd shared with her. He claimed to be acting in her best interests, yet knew nothing of her hopes and dreams. Of her life.
She hauled the water and filled the kettle. Watched it boil and then poured it, carefully as instructed, over the precious coffee powder. The tin pot sat on the step between them, the drip drip of the water too loud in the silence. While they sat together quietly contemplating the day, the morning mist burned away to reveal the blood red of the late autumn sun. Gift-days, her mother had called them. As unexpected as they were rare at this time of the year.
The coffee finished dripping. Neither of them moved. They sat in perfect balance, neither giving, nor taking. Each of them wrapped in their own thoughts. Yesterday she had been alone, her life free of concern for others. Today every action was tempered by thoughts of this man sitting silently beside her. She didn't want to care for him yet she had lain awake wondering whether his wounds pained him. She didn't want his approval but found herself wishing he would endorse her decision to let go her human side.
He did not fascinate her yet she wanted to touch his hair to remind herself how softly it had slipped between her fingers. She wished he would speak so she could feel the deep rumble of his voice.
Did this strange yearning make her weak? When a woman gave herself to a man, did he add something, or take something away from her?
Sol moved eventually and poured coffee into two tin mugs. She took one and held it between her hands, focusing her thoughts on the things that really mattered. Freedom, her life on the mountain. Her determination to mate in her own good time. With a wolf or a man of her own choosing. The restless wolf reminded her of her promise. Poor Sol. Even if she did want him, her pride wouldn't allow her to submit to him. In another place and another time perhaps this might have worked. The corner of her mouth turned up in a half-smile. She'd never been one for following orders.
The hot dark coffee slipped down too fast, scalding her throat. Time to go. Every lingering moment made the parting more painful, made her less sure. What was she? A woman sheltering a wolf, or a wolf masking a human spirit? If she wanted to stay on this mountain and live a life of freedom, there was only one answer to that question.
* * * *
She'd made the coffee too strong. Sol welcomed the kick from the thick, tarry brew. They drained their mugs in silence, Sitting apart, yet drawn together as if by an invisible thread. Outwardly nonchalant, inwardly every sense focused on each other. Covert glances, a secret smile. Twice he caught her looking before she turned quickly away. High drama, she could cope with. These times of quiet seemed to make her nervous. Perhaps the silence revealed far more than words ever could.
"My mother is a Moon-Child,” he began. “From the plains of Terralandia. She has power over the Crystal and she insisted I bring hers along with me."
"You command Magic?” Tian flashed him a panicked glance and tensed, ready to run.
"If I did,” he said, “we'd already be back at the Settlement. No, I've just realised why she insisted I bring it along. Lupines have an affinity with the Crystal. I think it might have a message for you."
"For me?"
"Yes. May I show it to you?"
Tian placed her cup on the boards and smoothed out her coat. “I can't imagine what it has to show me. Sol, I've stayed far too long. Let me strap your shoulder. My sight is dimming. A sign my wolf is becoming restless."
"I think you can see perfectly fine. Don't keep running away from me, Tian. Haven't I said I won't keep you if you want to go? Let me fetch the Crystal. Hold it for a moment. Humour me. Please?"
"It won't make me change my mind.” She stood abruptly and took five paces before turning. “And if you're trying to trick me..."
"I wouldn't do that. There may be a message for you. Don't you want to know?"
The wolf flashed in and out. A warning growl echoed around the clearing. When Tian regained control she stood, fighting for breath, eyes squeezed shut. Fists clenched. Sol stayed in place, aware of the distress he'd caused her. If he moved, she'd bolt.
"All right,” he said. “You don't have to do anything you don't want to. I'm sorry if I've intruded on your life. I had to come, don't you see? I couldn't stay away, knowing you were out here all alone. If I've failed to convince you there's a better life waiting at Wolf's Valley, then I'm sorry for that too. But I will never force you to do anything."
"I believe you. My wolf is having a harder time understanding.” Tian opened her eyes and held out one closed fist. “Do you have any idea what it's like to be this conflicted?"
"Sometimes, yes."
Tian nodded towards her closed fist. “I meant to return it,” she said and raised her chin. “Take it."
Carine's Crystal lay on her outstretched palm. It glowed faintly. Tian frowned and thrust her hand towards the sound of his voice. The way she pointed slightly to the left of him told him she'd lost the ability to see.
"Take it. Tell your mother, thank you. It held no message for me."
The sight of her so proud and so helpless overrode the shock of finding she'd been through his things. His throat tightened and any words he might have spoken died there. He ached to go to her, take her in his arms and shield her from the world. It wasn't pity, but more a moment of clarity that told him she needed him, or if not him, then someone, more than she would ever admit.
She made the fine adjustment in stance, reorientated herself and took a confident step towards him. “Don't feel sorry for me,” she said. “My wolf doesn't like you, and he's punishing me for it. You believe you're helping me, Sol. But you're not. I should not have taken the stone. It was wrong of me."
"Did you take the gifts, too?"
"No, of course not! I'm no thief."
"Well, you might as well have them now. I brought them for you."
"You did not have to buy me gifts.” Eyes flashing, she crossed the gap between them and felt for his hand. Pressed the warm Crystal into his palm. “I was merely
curious. Your mother is fortunate to be in command of magic. Mine was, too."
"She commands magic, but she can't perform miracles.” Residual energy made the Crystal pulse against his palm. Tian had connected with it. But she wasn't about to admit that. He placed it in his pocket, making a mental note to take better care of his mother's most treasured possession.
"When an Eagle tribesman goes visiting, it's traditional to take a gift. I should have presented them on arrival.” He gave a low laugh. “I was a little ... distracted. Will you accept them?"
"I will not be able to take them with me."
"Do as you wish with them. They're yours. Wait here, I took the small pack into the hut."
He made her wait for ten heartbeats before standing and turning for the hut. Tian leaned forward very slightly when he moved. She checked herself and schooled her expression to one of bored indifference.
Making her wait was cruel. Sol pulled out the pouch containing the shell necklace made by his sister and the ring he'd purchased two summers back from the visiting trading fairs. It had embodied all his hopes for a future that might now never be. The Goddess asked everything of him and he'd dedicated his life willingly to the cause of her precious Lupines. He'd trusted her to choose him a life-partner who would add wise counsel to the difficult leadership decisions he would face. Someone who would gladly shoulder some of the burdens as they grew old together. Instead, she'd presented him with a puzzle which he might never solve.
Through the thick slabs of glass, he saw Tian's wavering image. She hadn't moved, but she watched the door intently. He counted another ten heartbeats then walked back over the threshold. Innocent though she was in the ways of the world, she wouldn't be easily bought with trinkets.
She looked strained to the point of anxiety and jumped when he took her hand and slid the ring onto her betrothal finger. An impulsive move. Thank the Goddess that she managed to hold onto her wolf. He didn't push his luck. The marriage vows to seal the betrothal would have to wait.
