by Selena Kitt
“It happens, sometimes,” Sibyl said softly, hoping Darrow didn’t hear her.
“I’ve never seen a wolf bleed like this after a birth!” Kirstin protested, grabbing the cloth Darrow brought, trying to stem the blood flow, but it was useless.
“Women do,” Sibyl countered. “Women die in childbirth all the time.”
“But wulvers do’na, ya ken?” Kirstin snapped. She was afraid too—terrified. Sibyl was surprised by their reaction. In her world, everyone knew this could happen. “I’ve never seen this. Get Beitris, Darrow! Quick now!”
Darrow ran. The old midwife might know what to do, but Sibyl wasn’t sure she would, if it was true that wulvers did not bleed out this way after birth. There wasn’t time for consulting texts. Sibyl knew what to do for this kind of bleed, had learned on the knee of her father’s healer, and remembered as much as she was going to.
“Do you have dried goldenrod?” Sibyl asked Kirstin. The girl was up to her elbows in blood over Laina’s inert form. “Shepherd’s purse?”
“Nuh.” Kirstin shook her head helplessly, meeting Sibyl’s eyes. She saw tears in them. Laina would certainly die without intervention and the girl knew it.
“I saw some on the way in,” Sibyl murmured. She had, although how she remembered it, given the circumstances, she couldn’t quite explain, except that, like her father had taught her, she had an awareness of her surroundings most people did not. “But it is the middle of the night. I would not be able to find it. And she does not have until morning.”
Raife touched Sibyl’s arm, alarm in his eyes. There was no time for panic.
“Do you have cayenne?” Sibyl asked Kirstin. “To add heat, for cooking?”
“We do ‘ave some!” Kirstin brightened. “Inna kitchen!”
“Good!” Sibyl nodded, “Get it. Stir a teaspoon into boiling water. Make her to drink it scalding hot. She will not want to. Force her.”
Darrow showed up with Beitris, the old midwife, whose eyes grew even wider than Kirstin’s at the amount of blood on the bed.
“Take the babe,” Sibyl instructed the old midwife as Kirstin ran out, hands still covered in blood, to look for the cayenne. “And put him at her breast. Make him suckle.”
The baby was still mewling with hunger, his face turning back and forth, rooting.
“Should’na be a problem, he’s starvin’.” Beitris knelt with the child, tucking it in against Laina’s pale body. “But won’t it cause ‘er t’lose more fluid?”
Beside them, Darrow howled. It was an inhuman sound that rose the hackles on the back of Sibyl’s neck. There was so much pain in the sound, it would have brought Sibyl to her own knees if Raife hadn’t been beside her, holding tight to her elbow.
“No, it will help,” Sibyl assured the old woman. The baby had latched on already, suckling, greedy. She looked up, meeting Raife’s concerned gaze. “I hope it will help enough before we can get back.”
“We?” He stared at her, aghast.
“Take me back into the woods.” Sibyl looked up at him, remembering the breakneck speed the wolves had run on the way in. “We will find what we need.”
Raife met his brother’s eyes, a low communication passing between them.
“We’ll be righ’back, brother. She’ll live. Sibyl knows what t’do.” Raife looked down at Sibyl, taking her small hand in his giant one as he led her into the dark hallway, and she hoped against hope that the words he spoke were true. She stopped for a moment in her room to empty her packed satchel out onto the bed.
“Hang on tight,” he instructed, his eyes grim in the tunnel’s torchlight.
“I will.”
She couldn’t watch. Instead, she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck and she felt him shift. Firm, hard, hairless flesh transformed into softness and fur, the muscle and bone changing underneath. She didn’t understand this magic, but she didn’t have time to think about it, because Raife was running, and she was riding.
They passed the sentry without stopping and he did not stop them, likely recognizing Raife needed no challenge or permission. Raife had been right—there was no moon and it was so dark she could see nothing. She would have to rely on Raife’s sense of smell and sight.
“You’ll know the goldenrod,” Sibyl told him. “It smells like old, wet socks.”
He found it right away. The wolf shook his big head and sneezed as she gathered it in by the armfuls, shoving it into the satchel she’d emptied for this purpose.
“Shepherd’s purse smells like…” Sibyl frowned, trying to think how to describe it. But the wolf howled. He’d found it a ways down the path and came back to lead her to it in the darkness. She tripped over rocks and had to steady herself against his thickly muscled hide.
“Pungent, isn’t it?” Sibyl made a face, yanking the shepherd’s purse up by the roots. “But it will do the job. I hope. Hurry, Raife. Get us back.”
He howled, a sound that shook her to her bones as she grabbed onto his neck and he ran like the wind. The entrance to the cave, hidden even during the daytime, was a black hole. Sibyl clung to him, hoping what was in her satchel might save a woman’s life tonight.
“Boil this!” Sibyl slid off Raife as he skidded just past the doorway where she knew Laina lay near death. She didn’t wait for him before bursting into the room, already pulling the pungent herbs from the satchel and handing them over to a stunned, worried-looking Kirstin. “You’re going to make a tea for her to drink.”
“Laina?” Sibyl sat beside the woman. She was more lucid, the baby at her breast being held there by Darrow. “Can you hear me?”
The blonde woman shook her head, moaning, but it was a good sign.
“Her belly is still distended.” Sibyl pressed down hard on it and Laina howled. Good. More blood seeped from between her legs into the absorbent cloth. The sac where the baby had been housed in Laina’s belly needed to firm up, contract, and grow smaller. The same contractions that had pushed the baby out would make that happen.
“What are ye doin’?” Beitris frowned. “Ye’re makin’er bleed more!”
“Leave ‘er be,” Raife snapped. He was human again—Sibyl didn’t need to look around to know that, she heard it in his voice. “She knows what t’do.”
He had more faith in her than Sibyl actually possessed but she was grateful for the vote of confidence. Kirstin already had the goldenrod and shepherd’s purse in a pot of boiling water over the fire.
“Massage her like this.” Sibyl showed the old woman, who frowned but did as she was told. Raife stood over them, watching, as Kirstin poured the hot herb water into a tin cup.
“Somethin’s firmin’ in ‘er,” Beitris observed, glancing between Laina’s legs. “I think the blood is ebbin’.”
“Yes.” Sibyl blew on the surface of the cup, smelling the goldenrod and shepherd’s purse. It was enough to make her want to gag. “Kirstin, help sit her up a little.”
Darrow did it instead, taking the baby off its mother’s breast to do so. Kirstin took the baby, who wailed at being taken away from his mother, but Sibyl had to get the concoction down the woman’s throat. Laina moaned but swallowed, her eyes half-opening, focused for a moment on Sibyl, then on her husband. There was a recognition in those eyes that gave Sibyl hope. Laina knew where she was, who she was, who this man was to her. She was still here on this side of the veil then.
“Thank ye.” Darrow choked out the words as they put Laina back down on the mattress. It was ruined, soaked in blood, and Sibyl wondered how someone could lose so much and still be breathing. It was a miracle. “Tis the second time ye’ve saved ‘er life.”
“I’m glad I could help.” Sibyl looked up at Kirstin who was holding the crying child in her arms. “Keep that baby nursing as much as possible.”
“He seems to have a great appetite,” Raife observed as Kirstin knelt to put him back at Laina’s breast. “He’s yer son, wit’out a doubt, brother.”
Raife’s hand fell to Darrow’s shoulder
and Sibyl saw tears brimming in the younger brother’s eyes as his own hand covered Raife’s larger one.
“And keep her drinking this,” Sibyl instructed, pointing to the pot of boiling herbs. “All night long.”
“I’ll stay awake wit’er,” Darrow assured her as Sibyl stood. “Thank ye again.”
“I’m right next door if you need me.” Sibyl didn’t want to go, but the immediate danger had passed, and Raife insisted. He barked orders, telling the old midwife and Kirstin to clean Laina up, Darrow to get men to dispose of the old mattress and retrieve a new one.
Then Raife walked her to the room next door where he turned her to him, his big hands on her shoulders. He made her feel so small in stature in his presence, but she never felt small within. That was likely what made him a leader, she realized—man, wolf or wulver.
“I’ve never seen anythin’ like that afore,” Raife said softly, glancing down the hall where men carried out the bloody mattress. “I’m so glad ye were here. We would’na’ve known what t’do.”
Sibyl just nodded. She didn’t know what to say to that.
“Tis why wulvers change when they birth.” Raife’s eyes hardened. “Females can’na change back while puppin’. Wulvers do’na experience the same dangers as humans durin’ birth. Tis a blessin’ and a curse.”
“I don’t understand.” Sibyl frowned, opening the door to her room as two men moved in behind them, carrying a clean mattress for Laina, making more room for them in the tunnel hallway.
“Lilith’s curse.” Raife stood in the doorway, filling it with his big frame, not coming in, although she moved into the room to sit on the edge of the bed. She thought she had been exhausted before. Now she was dead-tired. “The first wulver was the daughter of Lilith.”
“Adam’s first wife?” She cocked her head at him. “From the Bible?”
“The same,” he agreed. “Humans descended from Eve. Wulvers descended from Lilith.”
Sibyl considered this new information, trying to absorb it.
“Lilith was a’cursed by God t’give birth t’demons,” Raife explained softly, reminding Sibyl of the old Biblical story. She was far more familiar with the story of Adam and Eve, of course—that was the story of her own ancestors, of an evil, wanton woman who tempted her mate into wickedness—but occasionally Lilith was mentioned in church as God’s first, failed attempt at creating woman. It seemed her gender was difficult to get just right.
“We’re those demon descendants,” Raife told her. “Half-human, half-wolf. We live in the borderland between worlds. Sibyl? Are ye a’right?”
She felt faint again at his words, although she told herself she was not, under any circumstances, going to faint. Not again. But her eyes closed and the world spun anyway.
“Sibyl?” Raife was close to her now, squatting next to the bed, holding her up.
“It’s been a long day.” She opened her eyes and half-smiled at him. “It’s a lot to take in all at once. Wulvers… half-human, half-wolf. The… descendants of Lilith, you say?”
“Aye.” He brushed hair away from her face, smiling softly. “Ye should sleep, lass. Ye worked hard dis day.”
“So did you.” She cocked her head at him. “And Laina. Poor thing. She worked hardest of all.”
“Wulver females ain’t like human women.” Raife spoke the obvious, but his face was pale, his eyes betraying him, showing fear he clearly had never experienced in the same way before. “They’re cursed, but different.”
“Eve and her descendants were cursed with the pain of childbirth.” Sibyl sighed, lamenting her own women’s curse, remembering the women she’d seen die birthing their young. “Always afraid of pain and death.”
“Aye.” Raife’s eyes clouded. “But Lilith was a’cursed as the bearer of demon seed. “
“Demons… are you demons then?” she murmured, frowning at the thought. She’d seen drawn depictions of demons with horns and red skin. These wulvers, whatever they were, did not appear evil, or even unnatural. Although, in their human form, the way Raife appeared in front of her now, they seemed extra-human, as if they’d been taken directly from the pages of some ancient text.
“We are what we are.” Raife sighed. “Some of us accept that better’n others.”
“Darrow…?” She met his eyes, questioning. There was something in Raife’s tone that made her think of his brother and Raife nodded sadly.
“Darrow and Laina, too.” He glanced toward the door, as if his brother might be standing there, listening to what he had to say. “They believe they can change the way we are. But we’ve always been this way and always will be.”
“Change…?” Sibyl frowned. “How?”
“Tis a silly legend.” Raife waved the idea away. “Chasin’ rainbows. There’s supposed to be a plant that can keep wulvers from changin’ into wolves. The huluppa tree.”
“The… that’s… a type of willow, isn’t it?” Sibyl remembered it from her teachings with the healer and her father. They had taught her to read and identify all the names of the plants.
“They’ve gone out, searchin’ the woods fer it,” Raife said, his eyes hardening at the thought. “That’s where they were when she was caught. I told ‘im she should’na be out, so close t’pup.”
“It is supposed to keep you from changing?” Sibyl tried to remember everything she knew about the huluppa. It was just another variation of willow, although it wasn’t anywhere near as abundant as some of the others. “Willow… willow is a pain reliever. But it keeps the blood from clotting!”
Sibyl sat straight up, eyes wide.
“Was she eating the willow?” Sibyl gasped. “That explains why she was bleeding so much!”
“And it did’na even work.” Raife scoffed, shaking his dark head. “She still changed.”
“I wonder…” Sibyl considered the possibilities. Could a plant really stop a wulver’s transformation, like barley stopped burns or buckbean killed intestinal worms?
“I know Laina thinks tis unfair. And she’s reason to fear the change. Males can change at will,” Raife explained. “Females… they have no choice. They change when they pup. They change when they go into heat.”
“Heat?” Sibyl cocked her head, trying to work out what he was saying, and then she understood, feeling her own cheeks filling with heat.
“Moon blood…?” he explained, smiling at the way her cheeks pinked up.
“Menses.” Sibyl blushed even brighter, saying the word in a man’s presence. Even she knew you didn’t talk about such things in front of menfolk. But she couldn’t help thinking about Laina—poor Laina. She was tied more to her body and its cycles than Sibyl had ever thought about being. And here she’d believed she was limited by her gender!
“I will look for this willow before I am on my way,” Sibyl decided with sudden determination. She would help Laina and her kind, if she could. It would be good to liberate the wulver woman from her gender’s prison, even if she couldn’t change her own.
“Ye’ll go t’sleep and we’ll talk more on th’morrow.” Raife was giving orders again. He stood, an imposing figure in his plaid, thick arms crossed over his broad chest.
“I will find it.” Sibyl’s chin stuck out in defiance, more determined than ever.
“I b’lieve ye.” He chuckled, turning to go. “Thank ye for what ye did fer her. She’s as much like a sister to me as Darrow’s brother.”
“And Kirstin?” Sibyl’s cheeks reddened when Raife hesitated at the doorway to turn and look at her. She didn’t know why she’d asked, but the words had escaped her mouth before she could stop them.
“Kirstin?” Raife smiled, looking amused. “What about ‘er, lass?”
“I just… noticed the way she looked at you.” Sibyl squirmed on the bed, feeling his gaze pinned on her. She couldn’t help but notice the way Kirstin looked at him, like he was some sort of a god, or God himself. Not that she blamed the girl, not in the least.
“And what way’s that?”
/> “The way a woman… looks at a man… who…” she stammered.
Oh damn him, she thought, unable to get the rest of the words out.
“I’ve no mate, Sibyl,” he told her, his words soft but clear, those blue, blue eyes trained right on her, seeing into her, into parts and places she had yet to even explore herself. “There’s no woman or wulver who’s been marked by me.”
Marked. She wanted to know what that meant, but she was afraid to ask.
“G’nite, lass.” He moved to close the door but Sibyl stopped him once again with her words.
“Where are you going?” she called.
“I’ll be right outside,” he assured her, smiling around the door’s edge.
