by K. V. Wilson
Did I want to show him what I was capable of? Did I want to tell him who I really was? That I was the Guardian our people had worshipped all their lives?
“If the so-called Ru-Yeva was indeed real,” Sehwen began, pausing to scoff at the thought, “and if she had the decency to finally return to us, she would kill you like the runt you are. You are a disgrace to her people!” A malicious smile spread across the shapeshifter’s face.
I stared at my feet, not caring that tears were streaming down my face like rivulets.
“Come, Xunnu.”
As Sehwen and Xáan began towards the settlement, I glanced up to see Xunnu watching me, sadness in his eyes. I shook my head at him. Now was not the time. I was not sure if there would ever be a time.
20
OUT OF THE LOOP
Skye
I awaken in a cold sweat. As I reach up to rub the sleep from my eyes, fresh tears cloud my vision.
Each time I try my hand at sleep now, I dream of Sejka’s life. Each dream – each memory – is more powerful and disheartening than the last. The only thing that consoles me is the knowledge that everything would turn out right in the end. Sejka would become an ambassador, building a bridge between Yeva’si and Lycans and helping to end the Covenant’s oppression. Xunnu would become chieftain of the Yáahl tribe. He would unite the shapeshifters all under one banner. But two things still nag at me…
The first is love. If Xunnu and Sejka had once loved each other, why hadn’t they ended up together? Were they too different? Was it too difficult for the Ru-Yeva to love as a mortal could?
The second is hatred. What had happened between Sejka and Sehwen? Did Sejka cause his death, like Xáan said, or did he die by her hand? What had he done to provoke her?
Anger rises inside my heart as I remember all that Sejka had gone through, and because of just one terrible man.
Had Sehwen deserved it?
I blink the tears away, squinting at the sun’s glare through the hole in the tent. A tree branch had fallen and torn a hole through the canvas. I’d meant to repair it, but I’d been preoccupied with rescuing Sejka’s brother.
Koyah.
We had finally found the bear and I had attempted to shoot serum-infused arrows into his skin. David had said they contained a tranquillizer as well, but it hadn’t been enough. We had managed to subdue Koyah with the power of the wind, thanks to Aelshen’s help. Conall had stabbed the bear with the remaining arrows, and the serum in their tips would help him reconnect with his human mind.
I desperately hope our actions had not meant the end of the old bruin. He’d bled significantly, but the shapeshifters had patched him up well enough. I’d tried to heal him the way I’d seen Sejka do when Conall had been injured all those weeks ago, but it was no use. I would have to speak with Aelshen again.
What was the Gaelic word for ‘heal’, and why couldn’t I remember it? According to Sejka’s dream, the Ru-Yeva knew at least fifty languages. Fifty! And I couldn’t even remember the one I’d used the most throughout all those years. Ancient Scottish Gaelic: the tongue of the Three.
Keep yer mind open, Aelshen had said. Keep yer mind open and ye’ll remember.
I shake my head, stepping out into the light. It must be almost midday. I had hardly slept. I’d dreamt extensively about Sejka and her relationship with Xunnu.
Well, at least Sejka’s difficulties gave me some consolation. If she could overcome her struggles in remembering who she was and how to use her powers, maybe I can do it, too.
I just need time.
Unfortunately, the war with the Covenant is still brewing. Aelshen had said there’s a new group out to get us shapeshifters: an organization of dragon-hunters this time. Part of me isn’t surprised. If you’re going to spend any amount of time as a gigantic red lizard, somebody’s gonna see you eventually.
When there’s no answer, I allow myself a slight smile. The burly Lycan must be napping or otherwise occupied.
Well, I’ve got plenty of time to try to contact Nwyfre. Maybe the spirit has closed his mind to Aelshen but not to me. It’s worth a try.
No answer. What a surprise. Aelshen said it takes no time at all for a spirit to choose its next life. But perhaps the Great Dragon hasn’t been reborn yet. Or his current avatar is so young that he hasn’t remembered who he really is.
“Red!”
I raise my head and squint at the midday sun filtering through the branches. The newcomer’s straight blonde hair is doused with sun-kissed tones.
“Hey, Jen!”
She flashes a wide grin as she reaches my side. “How’s it going? You slept through the dawn hunt.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
Truth is I wouldn’t have enjoyed it. Not after I’d experienced life through the eyes of a prey animal.
“No worries.” Jen’s shrug transforms into a luxurious stretch. “We don’t carry watches out here, so whatever.”
I chuckle humourlessly. I want to tell her about my nightmares, but I don’t want her to worry about me. Plus, they’re to be expected; I’m remembering my past lives. Sejka’s just happened to be a depressing one.
“C’mon! Thirteen’s been waiting for you.”
“He has?”
Jen rolls her eyes. “Course he has! Oh, and your uncle and aunt came back.”
I beam, allowing her to turn me around and guide me towards the settlement. “When?”
“Last night. They snuck in,” she laughs. “Xunnu’s talking with ‘em now. Damian and Thirteen are there, too. They wanted me to see if you were awake yet. I checked earlier, but…” Jen makes a snoring sound and my cheeks heat up.
I break into a jog. Jen easily keeps pace with me, slowing her strides to match my smaller ones. Her hair bounces on her back like liquid sunshine.
“Oh right. Here.” The Lycan pulls a small basket from the pocket of her sweatshirt. She lifts the lid; inside are four crab apples. My stomach rumbles at the thought of the sour fruit crunching between my teeth.
“Thanks. Did they find any recruits?”
“Yup! They’ve got a bunch!”
“Really?” I ask incredulously, pushing myself so I’m almost sprinting for Xunnu’s dugout.
“I mean if you call about nineteen or twenty a bunch.” Jen mimes quotation marks with her fingers.
I sigh as my stomach drops. “Only twenty?”
“Well, Damian and I didn’t find any. So I’d say their mission was a success.”
“Technically you found some. They just didn’t want to join the cause,” I muse, taking a bite out of one of the apples. I shut my eyes and hum as the sour taste teases my tongue.
Jen groans. “I know! Who would choose not to help us? They had young children and stuff. And there’s the chance they might get killed. But still.”
“It’ll be fine,” I lie, referring to our battle with the Covenant. I don’t know when I’ll have the heart to tell anyone about the dragon-hunters. They’ll find out eventually from Aelshen, anyway.
“Oh, hold up,” Jen whispers as we approach Xunnu’s dugout. “Xunnu’s brother’s in there too.”
“Xáan.” I narrow my eyes.
Jen gives me a sideways look. “He’s Xera’s dad. You know that, right?”
“Yeah.”
Not only is he Xera’s dad, he also hates my guts. For something I didn’t do. I’m not certain if Sejka even did it.
“I don’t see much similarity between father and daughter. She kinda disowned him, I think,” Jen carries on at a whisper. “And then she was raised by her uncle.”
I shiver at the resemblance to my own life. My father had left us to lead a revoluti
on. He’d left me in the care of my uncle and aunt, and no one had cared to tell me my father was alive all those years.
It’s over now. Best not to keep a lifelong grudge.
We stop before Xunnu’s dugout house. The muffled voice of my uncle reaches my ears.
I take a deep breath, stepping carefully on the logs of the dugout’s roof as I reach for the centre, the log ladder that serves as the entry point. I peer down at the dugout’s inhabitants and am met by a half-dozen smiling faces. And one not-so-smiling face.
“Skye!” David cries, standing abruptly and taking a few steps towards the log as I begin to descend.
My uncle reaches a hand out to me but I’m not close enough to grasp it yet. I feel a chill as I think about how my own father wouldn’t have held out that hand for me. He’s an Alpha. He expects his pack to be strong on their own, even – and especially – his daughter. The only thing he held me back from was fighting in the battle of the Ritual. Of course, I’d disobeyed him and almost died as a result, so I can see where he’s coming from. Nonetheless, I almost dread the thought of trying to make conversation with him again when we return to England. Especially because I’m now the Guardian of an entire race. That can’t be easy on any relationship, especially not an estranged father-daughter one.
“Morning, sleepyhead.” Conall smiles, forcing my thoughts back to the task at hand. “Or should I say good afternoon?”
“Heya, girl,” Margo chimes in. Her umber skin almost blends in with the walls, unlike her flamboyant wardrobe. In the short time we’d been apart, my aunt has dyed her permed hair hot-pink to match every other possession she owns. It was only a matter of time.
I grasp David’s hand in gratitude.
“How’ve you been?” Margo asks. “They treating you well?”
“Oh, yes.” I nod vigorously, glancing at the mess of maps and other papers strewn across the table below.
“Watch your step,” Litu cautions in Yeva’si. I wonder if she and Xáan have been able to understand David’s speech. Maybe Xunnu has been translating for them.
Xáan releases a snort from the other side of the room. I ignore it, feeling my stomach turn. He thinks the Ru-Yeva is a murderer. I may never be able to change his mind, especially if it’s true.
“So, I presume you’ve heard the news,” Xunnu says, switching the conversation to English. Xáan scrutinizes his elder brother as he tries to understand the words. “Your uncle and aunt have found some Lycans to join us.”
I nod, turning back towards Jen. “I heard.”
David and Damian each take one of her hands, helping her down from the ladder and making her giggle.
“Thanks, guys.” Jen takes a seat on the floor – the only available spot. I begin to do the same and immediately the others shuffle around, freeing up a seat.
“Here, Skye,” Litu says in Yeva’si.
“Oh, no. It’s okay,” I tell her, embarrassed. “The floor’s fine.”
She gives me a questioning look and I flick my gaze towards Jen, lowering myself to the ground beside her. Litu gives me a warm, knowing smile. Something tells me that it was some sort of test: does the Ru-Yeva consider herself above her friends? Certainly not.
“We are planning to return to England soon,” Xunnu continues as if nothing had happened.
“Is the Silver League planning something?” I ask uncertainly.
Ideally, we should stick around to gather more forces. More Lycans and shapeshifters to help us take down the Covenant. The fact that we’re planning on going back already must mean something has happened.
“They are trying,” is his response.
David clears his throat. “There have been attacks, Skye. The Covenant made a beeline for the warehouse hideout, and Todd – uh, your dad – had to relocate the Lìog Airgid. It’s been a struggle.”
“We should get back into a service area,” Damian says solemnly. “I hate being out of the loop.”
“Service?” Litu asks.
I turn towards the shapeshifter, whispering to her in Yeva’si, “We need to be within range of…” – I struggle to find the right word before settling on an English one instead – “of towers, so we can communicate with the Lycans in England, even from this far away. We use things called phones.”
She nods. “I have heard of those.”
“Did anyone…was anyone killed?” I inquire of my uncle. He shakes his head and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Not that I’ve heard. But they had to clear out of there pretty fast. If there was any important info in there, it could now be in the Covenant’s hands.”
I turn to Damian, raising my eyebrows. “Your dad’s laptop?”
“He’d have grabbed it, even if it meant going back into the fray. If not, Ace would’ve snatched it up,” the Scottish Lycan informs me confidently.
“But Ace wasn’t there…” My voice trails off as I remember that only Conall knows I’ve been in touch with Aelshen. No one else knows Ace and Greg are accompanying the Earth spirit on a little excursion.
“Wasn’t there? How do you know?” Xunnu frowns, raising an eyebrow at me.
I gulp. “I can speak to Aelshen. Telepathically.”
“You can?” Damian bursts out. “That is bloody fantastic!”
I nod at him but wither at the looks the others are giving me.
“Since when have you known this?” Xunnu asks, struggling to hide his rising temper. I blink, wondering why Sejka never told her friend that she could speak to the other Spiritborne.
“Since a day ago. I really haven’t been able to tell anyone yet, so—”
Xunnu sighs. “If Ace wasn’t with the Lìog Airgid, where was he?”
“Well, he, Aelshen, and Flint went to Scotland—”
“Why would they do that?” David bursts out, his face reddening. “Especially Mac Tíre! He knows full well an attack could come at any time!”
“He was trying to find Nwyfre.”
“Who? Oh.” David runs his fingers through his greying strawberry-blond hair. Margo places a hand on his shoulder.
“Getting the dragons’ aid would, in fact, help our cause, hon,” she says. Turning to me, the Lycan frowns in thought. “Can you talk to him now?”
I shrug. “Sure. As long as he’s awake and has his mind open to mine.”
“Like I said. Bloody fantastic,” Damian whispers as I close my eyes and try to connect with the mind of the burly bartender.
The other Lycans and shapeshifters wait silently as I project my thoughts into the void. I wait a few seconds before trying again.
“There’s no answer.” I sigh, feeling uneasiness creep up my spine. He hadn’t answered before either, and it should be broad daylight in Scotland now.
Xáan sniffs from the corner. “Pathetic,” he says in Yeva’si. Litu glares at him.
Still, there’s no answer.
Something’s wrong.
I meet eyes with David and Xunnu in turn. “We need to make contact with the Silver League. Now.”
21
THRICE-CURSED SAINT PATTY
Aelshen
I awaken to a harsh throbbing pain in me leg. I grit me teeth, blinkin’ a few times to adjust to the darkness. I cannot see a bloody thing. Why can’t I see a bloody thing?
“Mo chreach!” I spit. “Where am I?”
I feel a shift in the floorboards and a rustle from beside me.
“Shut up, mate,” comes MacLarty’s groggy grunt. “Ugh. Well, it’s not like I’m gonna get back to sleep now.” He lets out a loud yawn.
“The attitude o’ this one,” I mumble. “Flint? Where am I?” I repeat, lowering me voice.
“In a barn,” the young dragon replies flatly.
A low growl emanates from the far side of the barn. I struggle to adjust me eyesight, attemptin’ to draw upon the earth’s ene
rgy. It isn’t responding to me call fer aid.
“He’sss awake? ‘Bout time,” a reptilian voice hisses.
It takes me a few moments to put together everything that’s happened since the three of us arrived at Inverfarigaig. The wee Scottish town seemed pleasant enough. Until the dragon hunters showed up, that is.
Dragon hunters!
An’ not just any dragon hunters, mind ye. The bloody Knights of Saint Patrick, no less!
I sit up abruptly, wincing as the blood rushes from me head. The Knights had stabbed me in the arm with some…implement…that had taken me powers away.
“Elspeth? Is that you?” I ask uncertainly. I still can’t focus in the darkness, but shades of dull grey now float fuzzily in me peripheral vision. “I can’t see. What happened? Is everyone alright?”
“O’course, you bumbling idiot! An’ I saved yer damned life, so ye’d bessst be thankin’ me before I rip your head clean off yer blasted shouldersss!”
I grin, aware that she can likely see me quite clearly. All I can see of her, however, is an immense blob of black scales. “There’s the lass.”
Elspeth scoffs. “Everyone got out safe an’ sssound, except for you. Got a fair bit of bullet in ye, I’d reckon.”
“She’s right,” Flint says softly, approaching me. “You were hurt bad back there, Mac Tíre. You…” The lad gulps. “You said you can’t see?”
“Nay. Well, at least not in the dark. My bestial sight has left me. An’ me leg hurts like there’s no tomorrow. I’d forgotten how much bullet wounds hurt. I feel like I’ve been…ah.” I grit me teeth, resolving not to move again until I’m able to heal meself.
“Pathetic wimp! An’ ye call yerssself a man!” Elspeth remarks. I ignore her. She’s just tryin’ to get me goat.
“The bloody soldier stabbed me with some sort of device – no idea what that could be, mind ye – an’ it seems me powers have dwindled. I need to see if I can Shift.”
“Don’t ye dare! I don’t fancy seeing ye buck naked!” Elspeth growls. “There had better be some safe place for us to go after this little insssident, Mac Tíre, or ye’ll have me to deal with!”
