by K. V. Wilson
Twenty-one Dances I had seen. Each time they grew more and more extravagant. Each time we shapeshifters grew more and more weary of our old ways and set our eyes upon something new, something fresh. I looked forward to such changes; after all, change is nature. But part of me longed to see what had once been. I longed to remember what life was like before I was born.
I knew I could not strain myself; it sometimes took a lifetime to gather all of my thoughts and memories from previous lives. But if I could, then perhaps I could remember what I had done on that first night, the night the Yeva’si were created.
According to legend, I had gathered the blessings of the animal spirits and passed them along so my people could share in the wealth of the land.
Was it a mistake?
I glanced into the eyes of Xunnu, the chieftain’s son and the man I wished to be my mate. He grinned back at me, dipping his fingers into an oyster’s shell. He smeared the crimson stain across his forehead and cheeks in the traditional way. On the crown of his head rested an immense raven-feather headdress that looked much too big for him. Xunnu was the second-most important member of the Yáahl; he must look the part, especially during ceremony.
This was Xunnu’s eighteenth summer. His father Sehwen had instructed him on the ways of the chieftain since birth. He had guided him and shaped him into what he was now.
But we all knew that Sehwen was not happy with the way his firstborn had turned out. Xunnu was too soft, Sehwen had told the Yáahl upon many occasions. He was embarrassed that his son did not act the part of a confident, strong leader.
But it depended on one’s definition of strength, did it not?
Xunnu had always been a curious and respectful young boy. He had cared deeply for me and for my brother Koyah even when we neglected to see it. I felt shameful of the way I had thought of Xunnu; I had said on occasion that the chieftain’s son was stuck-up or that he did not care for the little people. But the truth was that he did care. He stood up for me when I could not do so myself. He covered for Koyah and me when we snuck out to join in the hunts.
And, most of all, he kept my secret hidden. He guarded it with his life. When his father called me a weakling and told me that the Ru-Yeva herself would consider me a disgrace to her people, Xunnu had countered his father’s words. He had suffered a beating for it, and I suspected that these punishments were all too common.
That night – the night of the Summer Dance – confirmed my suspicions.
“Xunnu!” an angry voice bellowed from within the chieftain’s dugout.
“That’s my cue,” the boy growled, dropping the shell of face paint.
Xunnu stared into my eyes for a few seconds and I could sense the longing in those dark orbs. The two of us were careful not to show affection in the presence of others; it would be detrimental to our relationship if we did. Not to mention, I needed to stay focused on my training as Guardian.
“One more,” I told him, reaching for the shell. I smeared a streak across his chin.
I allowed my fingers to linger on his face, feeling the stubble where his hair would grow if he had not shaven it for the ceremony. My heart pounded forcefully within my chest and I gulped, pulling my hand away. I could not allow my emotions to get the better of me; a thudding of the heart could just as easily lead to a thundering of the sky.
“Thank you, Ru-Sejka,” Xunnu whispered with a twinkle in his eye.
Normally I would correct him and say, “No. Just Sejka. No titles.” But this time I let it pass. Xunnu was off to become chieftain now. The Yáahl would bow to him and he would be lost to me forever. The heart of the chieftain was reserved for Yeva’si nobility. Namely sons or daughters of the other chieftains.
To Xunnu’s family, I was a nobody.
But would they think any differently of me if they knew who I really was, if they knew that I was the Ru-Yeva?
That small hope grew inside of me and I could barely keep it down. I wanted so badly to share this secret with the world. I wanted them to see me for what I was, and see that I did deserve Xunnu. It was a selfish thought.
“Yeva’si!” Sehwen barked, and all grew quiet. The drums ceased, the chanting stopped, and all eyes were on the Yáahl chieftain. “It is time for my son to learn how to guide his people! It is time for him to transform into a true Raven – one who will show great strength and power to lead our tribe to victory. I could not be any…prouder.”
His hesitation made me clench my fists. The tribe believed that Xunnu’s younger brother, Xáan, was more fit to lead them. He was stronger and braver. But he was ruthless, fueled by jealousy. He wanted to rule the tribe and Xunnu did not. But this was not the way of things. Xunnu did not have a choice in the matter. And neither did Xáan.
The latter sat at the edge of the clearing, watching the proceedings intently. He wore ceremonial face paint and feathers as well as a sullen expression reserved only for that of a spoiled child. Xáan was not happy with this and it was clear that his father was not, either.
“Xunnu, take your stand,” Sehwen commanded, giving his firstborn a slap on the back. To most of the tribe, it looked like a touch of encouragement, and they began to cheer. But I knew better – it was a warning: do not mess this up or you will face my wrath.
The chieftain’s firstborn son stood, adjusting his obsidian headdress and rolling his shoulders back. He looked completely out of place there.
“My people,” Xunnu began, pausing to gulp and scan the crowd for support. All eyes were on the boy. “I stand before you a humble man. I have come of age, but there is still so much I do not know. So much that I want to learn from you, the Yáahl. I hope that I will be the hand that guides you, and I hope that in turn, you will guide me to be a better leader. Thank you for this high honour.”
Xunnu bowed deeply so the feathers of his ceremonial cloak nearly scraped the dirt beneath. The tribe began to applaud, and I along with them. They let out a thunderous cheer and I raised my voice, perhaps the loudest I have ever raised it in any of my countless lives.
He stared across the crowd and his gaze rested upon mine. His agitation melted away as we shared a glance, and I smiled as his shoulders relaxed. I wanted to tell him that he did well, that his words inspired the Ravens. But I could not.
“Inside,” Sehwen growled, ushering his two sons towards the chieftain’s dugout. His voice was barely audible above the cheering of the crowd.
I pushed my way past the shapeshifters, careful not to gather too much attention as I made my way to the tent. A hand suddenly grasped my arm and I turned to face my brother.
“Koyah? Let go. I want to…um, I was going to…”
He shook his head. “Do not intervene. It’s not your place.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Brother, what’s gotten into you? This is Xunnu we’re talking about. I want to make sure he’ll be alright.”
It was clear that Xunnu’s father was unhappy about his son’s speech. My brother knew just as well as I did that those were not Sehwen’s words but Xunnu’s. He had disobeyed his father and given the speech directly from his heart. He had won over the people by demonstrating respect rather than power over them.
“Koyah, I don’t care what any of them say. Get off me!”
My brother grunted, releasing my arm. “He’s unfit to lead the tribe. It should have been Xáan,” Koyah said firmly. “And it will be soon enough.”
My eyes grew wide at his words of betrayal. “It is not the way…”
But wasn’t I just cursing the system myself?
“It doesn’t have to be,” he told me. “We can do whatever we want. We are not yours to command anymore, Guardian.”
“I…Koyah!” I spat, unable to think of a retort.
“Interfere and I’ll kill you. This tribe is no place for the weak of heart.”
I turned back to my brother in shock, wondering how he could possibly utter such a threat, but to my surprise, I stared into the eyes of Xáan. My brother had become so close with Xu
nnu’s younger brother that I could not even tell their voices apart anymore.
“You heard me. My father and I know what’s best for the tribe, and it includes neither Xunnu nor you,” Xáan snarled.
Koyah stared at the ground, adding, “Go live your lives together if you must, and we’ll spare you.”
“You’ll…spare me.”
My voice was dejected, weary. I glanced at Koyah for aid, for even an inkling of support or understanding, but there was none. There was only jealousy. Koyah wanted what I had; he wanted power. He wished that his body had been chosen as the Ru-Yeva’s avatar.
But since he could not have that, he would settle for helping his friend to uproot the true chieftain. Xáan would give Koyah a more powerful position in the tribe – something he would never have if he stayed friends with an outsider like me.
39
SEJKA’S VENGEANCE
Skye
I rub the sleep from my eyes, keeping them shut tight for the time being. Excited chittering emanating from the sparrows outside is what finally lifts me from my long and tiresome slumber.
So Koyah had betrayed Sejka. There was more to their relationship than I thought.
I groan, lifting myself from the plush – yet quite dusty – pillows. I’d been given Quinn’s old room. Conall and his dad had taken the other two bedrooms.
I lower my feet to the floor, relishing the feel of bare toes on hardwood once again. The Tudor-style house is a few hundred years old and its tilting floors creak something nasty, but it has a sweet look to it. What with the robin’s egg walls and wicker furniture, I feel like I’m in the middle of an old fairy tale.
It’s been a while since I’ve set foot in a real house again. Who knew what had become of mine back in Alberta? Perhaps the Covenant had seized it, rummaging through the drawers and cabinets to gather intel about the Silver League.
“Skye, is that you?” Conall calls from the bottom of the stairwell. Stupid creaky floors.
“Yeah,” I respond groggily, smoothing back my wild hair. I head into Quinn’s bathroom, intent on finding a clean toothbrush and comb. To my relief, the drawers are thoroughly stocked.
“C’mon. There are some people to see you.”
“To see me?” Have the others returned? Have they found Nwyfre?
I hastily rake the comb through my hair, stealing a glance at my reflection. I still look like a hippie.
“Who is it?” I whisper as I pass him at the end of the stairwell. As I round the corner into Quinn’s living room, I stop in my tracks.
“Mr. Adolphus!”
The Lycan grins. “Young one! It’s been a long time.”
“So you brought the clan out, too? Are they all here?”
My great uncle chuckles, scratching his grey beard in thought. His chestnut eyes regard me with interest, laugh lines ever-present across his dark skin.
“Not all, but most. Your father requested the rest of the Sheep River Clan make the journey here. He expects a bigger battle will ensue.”
I frown at the thought. And if we can’t locate Nwyfre, we may not stand a chance. The Earth’s Covenant and the Knights of Saint Patrick are strong, but together they’ll be near-impossible to beat.
“I have some bad news, however,” Mr. Adolphus continues. “On our way here, we stopped at two of the safe zones. Both of them have been destroyed. We don’t believe anyone was injured, however; they were able to evacuate before the damage was done.”
“The warehouse,” I comment. But where was the second one?
“Yes. And the pub,” Mr. Adolphus adds.
My breath catches and I stare at the alpha in shock. “Flint and Flockhart.”
“Yes, that’s what it was called,” he says slowly, scratching his jaw. “We couldn’t make out the name over the doorway. They’d burned it to the ground.”
Oh my goodness, I think to myself. Aelshen will be furious. That place was full to the brim with murals, photographs, and all other means of remembering his past lives. Even Nwyfre had contributed to it. What will the both of them say when they find out it’s been destroyed?
Before I can reply, however, I’m distracted by even more bad news.
“Greetings,” a familiar raspy voice utters from a far corner. I feel the skin on the back of my neck prickle.
“Chieftain! You too,” I begin in Yeva’si, trying to make my voice sound cheerful. Xunnu’s younger brother steps into the daylight, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his eyebrows at me. His dark hair falls over his face, framing his strong jawline. He wears a band on his forehead, perhaps an indication of his status as leader of the Bear tribe.
I narrow my eyes at Xáan, remembering Sejka’s memories. His betrayal of his own flesh and blood.
“So, why are you here?” I demand of the Ulawey chieftain.
“Skye!” Mr. Adolphus gasps and I meet his bewildered gaze.
He has no idea who this guy is.
“You planned to overthrow Xunnu and kill anyone who got in your way!” I yell at the shapeshifter. My words scare me; Skye would never be bold enough to do such a thing. But I’m not Skye; I’m the Ru-Yeva. Sejka lives in me, and her anger for Xáan is stronger than her fear.
It’s Xáan’s turn to gasp. “What? Why would I do that? Besides, I lead the Ulawey. I have no desire to overthrow my brother.”
“Skye. Mind explaining yourself?” Mr. Adolphus asks. “I’m in the dark, too. I am not fluent in Yeva’si, but I thought you said—”
I shake my head. “It was fifty years ago.”
“Then surely—”
“No.” I glare daggers at the unsightly Yeva’si.
True, I don’t know Sejka’s whole backstory – those memories are yet to emerge – but I know for sure that Xáan was up to no good. He’d said that the Ru-Yeva was responsible for his father’s death, but what if he’d framed her? I wish I knew the entire story.
“We brought Sejka’s brother with us,” Mr. Adolphus offers as if these words will break the tension between me and the traitor who adorns the room with his sinuous presence.
“Koyah!” I gasp, but before I can say anything else, I remember last night’s dream. What had Sejka’s brother been thinking? He’d betrayed Sejka and Xunnu, paving the way for Xáan to take control of the Raven tribe.
“He’s out in the barn. We’ve locked the doors. He’s in human form now, but he’s still rather unstable. I wanted David to take a look at him, but I see they’re still out.”
“Searching for Nwyfre,” I add.
“Precisely. Now, I don’t suggest you go and visit Koyah until things are cleared up.”
But before the words are out of his mouth, I’m out the door and halfway to the barn, pure determination written across my face. Koyah, you have some explaining to do!
“Koyah!”
The sole inhabitant of the barn jumps at the sound of my voice. I gasp as I glimpse his face for the first time in fifty years. My heart shrinks a little at what he has become, and I’m left speechless.
The Yeva’si man regards me with interest. His hair is long and laced with grey, but it’s his eyes that take me by surprise. He doesn’t regard me with hatred; only sorrow. I don’t look like his sister, but somehow he knows who I am.
“Ru-Yeva,” he says softly, nearly choking on the words as if speaking for the very first time.
“Koyah,” I whisper in Yeva’si, “you’re…”
“Old,” he says, smiling. He gives me a pained look. “And young, you are.”
“You’ve…you’ve been away for half a century,” I inform him, forgetting all anger towards the shapeshifter.
I was an only child; I never had the pleasure – or curse – of growing up with a sibling. But when I look into Koyah’s eyes, I feel like he is just as much my brother as he is Sejka’s. Such a weird feeling. And yet so natural…
Koyah gulps, shifting his limbs so that he sits cross-legged. I lower myself to the ground, too far away to touch him but close enough to see
the light in his eyes. The light I recognize even after such a long time apart.
“How…” the elder begins, pausing to gather his thoughts. “How much do you remember?”
Not all of it, but enough to know that you betrayed your tribe. You sided with Sehwen and Xáan when you should have stood by your own flesh and blood.
“I was selfish, Sejka,” Koyah says suddenly, and I’m taken aback by his words. Not only because he’s apologizing, but because he knows. He knows I have her memories, her thoughts and emotions.
He’s talking to his sister through me.
Conall, Richard, Xáan, and Mr. Adolphus stand just outside the barn. They whisper to one another and I could hear their conversation if I wanted to. But instead, I ignore their words, pushing them to the back of my mind. All I want to think about is my brother. No, Sejka’s brother.
“How much do you remember?” he repeats, and I glance away, not wanting to meet his eyes.
Anger rises in my heart and I fear that I will succumb to its unrelenting grasp. Instead, I search for the man who’d pitted my brother against me.
“Xáan!” I scream in Yeva’si. “Where are you?”
The others shrink back against the sides of the barn to make way for the chieftain of the Ulawey.
“I am here,” he replies as he enters the building, kicking at a pile of straw and meeting my eyes with his unwavering gaze.
“You once told me that I – that Sejka – was responsible for your father’s death. I want to know what happened. Tell me! What did you two do?!”
Did they make an attempt on Xunnu’s life? Did father and brother turn against the young man, intending on usurping him?
Conall clears his throat. “Skye? What’s happening? What are you saying?”
“You will remember in time,” Xáan snaps, flashing his teeth and clearly relishing the moment.
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll ask Xunnu. Or your daughter,” I retort, clenching my hands into fists.
I can feel the storm rising inside me and I know that if I don’t push it down, it will consume me. The world outside will erupt into lightning and thunder and I won’t have the ability or will to calm it.
