by C. M. Lance
Giselle carried her backpack out of the cabin. “OK, somebody start a fire. I’ve got the fixin’s here to make deer chili. Now that it’s this close I can barely keep myself from drooling.” She pulled spices, pork sausage, and cans of tomatoes and beans out of the pack. “We’ll let it cook until early afternoon. It should be perfect by then.”
While the chili cooked, and after the rest of the deer meat was packed away, everyone took advantage of the pond beside the cabin. Weres and Amazons shared a casual disregard for nudity that Sig lacked. After he slithered into the pond, he discovered that his concern about his body involuntarily signaling his appreciation of Giselle’s naked form was overwrought. The pond was so cold.
He stayed in the pond until she went inside the cabin, to ensure that recalcitrant body parts didn’t start functioning. Before he got out, he feared that he might have stayed in the cold water long enough to render it permanently inoperative.
Chapter 50
Giselle declared the chili ready at six in the afternoon. Jacob produced ingredients, including fresh corn, to make jalapeno cornbread. It was an unforgettable meal. The food was memorable and everyone took part in its preparation and consumption.
The entire pot of chili disappeared, to Giselle’s amazement. “One pot feeds the members of my tribe at college for two meals, at least, and there are over a dozen of us. We only have six here.”
The chili reminded Sig of his Mom’s cooking. After he helped clean up, he walked behind Giselle and hugged her around the waist. “Wonderful meal, thank you.”
He released her and she spun in his arms and placed her hands around his neck. Her lips parted as she looked into his eyes. She inhaled deeply, trembled, and then said, “You probably shouldn’t touch me. It will lead us where I don’t want to go right now in my life.” She pushed her hands against his shoulders.
He just wanted to thank her for the dinner, but when she spun in his arms, she felt so good, soft but firm. Her lips looked so inviting. Her hands on his shoulders generated heat down into his core. Then her words said no, but her eyes… This must be why people said they didn’t understand women.
He stepped back and dropped his hands. His parents schooled him in the role of a gentleman. His eyes still locked on hers. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She put her fingertips to his face. “I’m sorry on many levels.”
He looked away. “I think I’ll take a walk.” As he pivoted and walked away, he had proof that the cold pond hadn’t done any permanent damage.
†††
Sig returned in the dark from his walk. Rick, Jacob and the cousins sat around the fire roasting S’mores. Sig sat. “Which part is carnivore food - chocolate, marshmallow, or graham cracker?”
“The melted chocolate, definitely it’s the melted chocolate.”
Jacob said, “No, the melted chocolate converts the marshmallow into protein.”
The boys laughed.
Sig looked toward the cabin. “Shouldn’t we save some for Giselle?”
“She wanted to go to bed early, the day took a lot out of her.”
“Her and my lizard.”
“Your lizard?”
Sig looked sad. “A joke with my Dad. I asked him what the television commercials about ‘a reptile dysfunction’ meant. He said it meant you had a sick lizard.”
Everyone laughed. Sig smiled, “After that we referred to it as a lizard.” The smile evaporated and he stared into the fire with a solemn expression.
The silence stretched until Sig looked up and asked Jacob. “I understand your wife is a witch. What are the benefits and drawbacks of a mixed marriage?”
Jacob raised his eyebrows. “What a question.” He looked toward his boys. “There are two of the benefits.” He smiled at them.
“You have two girls and two boys?”
“Yes, and one on the way. The girls are in Chicago shopping with their mother.”
“Are all of your kids Weres, and did any of them inherit other magic?”
“You’re an inquisitive one, aren’t you?”
“I’m sorry. Let me know if I’m out of line.”
“No, that’s fine. Out here in the boonies, I don’t get questions like that. Either people know the answers or they don’t even know what questions to ask. Three of the kids can change. Our youngest, Laura, just started changing this year. She’s eight. The eldest, Jessica, has never changed. She’s the spitting image of her Mom and seems to have picked up her magical genes. Lenny has shown some magical talent, but nothing major.”
Lenny nodded. “I can start campfires with magic.”
Sig decided not to hit him and smiled. “That’s a nice trick to have. I wish I could.” He looked back to Jacob. “OK, those are the upsides, are there any downsides?”
Jacob stared into the fire, which crackled in response. Sig assumed the conversation was over until Jacob turned back.
“It depends upon a person’s situation. I’m a Were, born and raised in a pack. My Alpha didn’t condone what I did. Breaking away was rough. Staying away has been tougher. Protecting this land, hardest of all. There have been bad feelings.”
He smiled at his boys. “Now we have our own pack.” The boys’ faces brightened in the firelight.
“Jacob should be our pack Alpha, but he’s been away for so long, he likes it better here,” Rick said.
Jacob growled. “Rick, don’t go there.”
“Our Alpha is Jacob’s brother and they’ve reached an accommodation. History says that Jacob could take him.”
“OK, if we’re telling stories out of school, Rick will probably be the next Alpha. He’s the only wolf as big as me and he hasn’t finished filling out.”
“I’m not going to be Alpha. It’s too much responsibility and work, and I’m having too much fun.”
“So now you know the dirty little Were secret, no one in their right mind wants to be Alpha.”
Lenny and Tommy looked uncomfortable.
“We’ve been telling you our secrets, now it’s your turn. Rick evaded the question about your magic. Said I had to ask you.”
“I don’t have much. I change form, like you.”
“You’re a Were? What kind?”
“No, it’s a little different.”
“Show us.”
Sig reached into his shirt, pulled out his medallion, and looked at Rick. He nodded.
“Aðalbrandr.” The flickering campfire light made the scene surreal as he changed.
The boys scrambled away from the fire. Jacob looked up in amazement “Crikey. A Battle Wizard, a big one.”
Sig waved his sword back and forth a few times, and set its point down on the ground. “This is my change. Not nearly as sleek as a wolf.”
The boys crept back and sat down. Jacob sprung to his feet to compare scale. “Whew, that’s impressive. I want you on my side in a fight. Are you as strong as you look?”
“I saw him pull a tractor out of a ditch. It was stuck in mud and I couldn’t budge it. Show him a jump Sig,” Rick said.
After sheathing his sword, he took five strides and leapt to catch a large branch nineteen feet from the ground. Using his momentum, he swung up into the tree and swung a leg over the branch to sit on it. It creaked noisily. He jumped down, and said “Koma Aftur,” when he landed.
He strolled over and sat down at the fire. “That’s my magic. I’m supposed to have more, but it seems to be misplaced. Nothing else works.”
“Changing into that form is amazing by itself, and that is an impressive sword.”
Rick pointed at the two-foot diameter tree that Sig had been in. “He could cut that tree down with three whacks.”
Sig looked at the tree. “Maybe two.”
“Leave me your number. I’ll call you when we need trees felled.”
The fire was burning down and everyone agreed that it had been a great day and decided it was time to go to bed.
Sig and Rick stayed up to put out the fire. “You said Jacob should be your pack Alpha
, but his brother is. Is it a hereditary position?”
“No, anything but. You have to defeat the current Alpha. Jacob did it twice. It was a matter of pride with the old Alpha to force Jacob to obey. He insisted that Jacob give the pack this land. It’s been in Aunt Amanda’s family for hundreds of years and Jacob refused.”
“That sounds reasonable.”
“The Alpha was desperate after Jacob defeated him the first time. He was afraid of losing control. The second time there is a challenge; it is usually a fight to the death. Besides being the biggest and strongest, Jacob also spent time as a Special Forces commando. Weres rarely serve in the armed forces. Another of Jacob’s Lone Wolf characteristics. He has tricks in either form that other Weres don’t know.”
“To the death?”
“The old Alpha isn’t around. Jacob’s brother bested all challengers, but it might have been because they didn’t want to deal with Jacob.” Rick looked into Sig’s eyes. “Jacob is a bad mofo in either form. It’s best if he likes you, or at least doesn’t hate you.”
Sig nodded. “Good to know.”
Chapter 51
“Just because you go to bed at sunset, isn’t a reason to get up before sunrise.” Sig grumbled and pulled the pillow over his head.
Rick shook him again. “C’mon, you’re the last one up. Jacob wouldn’t let me pour a bucket of water on you. Something about ruining the mattress.”
He shook Sig again and jumped back. “If you don’t get up, he might reconsider.”
“Man, I was having such a beautiful dream.” Sig stood, pulled off his jeans, grabbed a towel, and shambled out of the door in just his underwear. He broke into a run and hollered as he dove into the pond. When he hit, the freezing water made him want to holler again, but his head was underwater.
After scrubbing himself, he climbed out of the pond and wrapped the towel around his waist. Shivering, he walked past Rick into the cabin. “Three problems solved.”
“Three?”
“Clean, awake, and dream obliterated.”
Giselle walked out of her room. “Let’s go. Man up. I’d like to get this expedition on the road.”
“Did you get a new car? I thought you had a Jeep. You have an Expedition now?”
She gave Rick an exasperated look. “See if you can get your buddy moving. Since the chili’s gone, I need to stop somewhere for breakfast. I’m starving.”
She walked out of the cabin to find Jacob bent over the fire pit, stirring the contents of a large frying pan. He looked up at her. “I’ll have this deer scramble ready in a few minutes. Do you have any more espresso to go with it?”
She saw peppers, onions, mushrooms, and deer meat in the scrambled eggs and smiled. “I’m going hunting with you from now on. This is the way to do it. Show up, get a deer, great grub, and then home.”
“Thank me with espresso.”
“Coming up.”
Sig walked out of the cabin lugging two packs and went back in to get Giselle’s pack. He set it down with the others, stepped off the porch, and muttered “Aðalbrandr.”
Jacob dropped the pan into the fire. “Crikey, give me some warning when you’re going to do that. I almost changed forms and spilled the breakfast into the fire.” He tugged the pan back out with his mitt and flicked embers from the eggs.
Sig rumbled down at him, “Sorry. I’m going to carry the packs to the Jeep and come back to help with the meat. I carry more this way.” He lifted all three packs in one hand and jogged into the woods. “Save some for me,” he hollered back.
Breakfast was a great end to a great hunt. After exchanging thanks all around, Sig, Rick, and Giselle carried the folding thermal carriers full of meat. They, finished loading, and Giselle swung the Jeep towards Chicago.
Back on paved roads, she pulled into a combination country store, gas station, and bait shop. She filled up while Sig purchased bags of ice for the meat.
Rick leapt down, put his front paws out, and stretched. A large German Sheppard mix trotted around the side of the building. Rick spotted him first and stood still on all fours, waiting for a reaction. The dog halted and growled. Rick sat on his haunches and stared at the dog, until it slunk back around the building, still growling.
Rick remained sitting until everyone climbed back in and then leapt back on top of the luggage.
A mile down the road, Giselle looked in the rearview mirror to see that Rick had changed forms. “That dog didn’t seem to like you.”
“That happens all the time. Weres and dogs don’t get along. With one of my little cousins, or a pack of dogs, there might have been an altercation. But, and I say this in all modesty, I’m a little too impressive for a single dog, no matter how tough it thinks it is.”
“In all modesty.”
“When you got it, you got it.”
“Modestly put.”
“That will be a hunt for the bards to sing of. The problem with a hunt is bringing the prey down. The chase is great and the meat, exquisite. Regardless, you’re still bringing down a wild animal that has defenses and Weres can get hurt.”
“This way you still get the chase and the meat, but we brought the deer down.”
“Exactly, this is the only way to do it. And, the chili, don’t forget the chili. It makes a fire down below.”
Giselle grinned at the compliment. “Now the only problem is we’re headed back to the real world.”
They approached a highway entrance. “Let me know when we arrive in the real world.” Rick changed back, pawed at the packs, circled once, and settled for a nap.
Giselle and Sig chatted about the hunt, Sig being part Amazon, Jacob and his boys, work, and just about everything except what had happened yesterday evening.
Chapter 52
Sig, Rick, and Giselle prepared dinner for the Professor with the fruits of the hunt. Sig grilled deer loin and roasted corn, Rick baked biscuits, Giselle made a Caesar salad, with real anchovies, and the Professor surprised them by whipping up a Chimichurri sauce for the meat. They washed it down with a velvety Zinfandel from the Professor’s wine cellar.
“Don’t get used to this, it’s for special occasions. I meet on the budget tomorrow morning with Dean Heathcoat. Closure is close. It helps that the lovely Bernadette participates to guard her investment.”
Sig raised his glass and they toasted the budget. It would be the culmination of a memorable weekend. With an agreement, they could continue their research.
Before the Professor retired for the evening, he asked Sig, “Would you please join me to meet Dean Heathcoat? We discussed new students in the program and he mentioned your name. He’d like to meet with students who have elected to study the physics of magic, instead of ‘real’ physics, as he puts it.”
Sig agreed. The Professor bid everyone a fond adieu and retired for the evening. After three bottles of wine, it sounded like he bid them a fondue. It was either because he slurred his speech, or Sig’s ears slurred his hearing.
†††
In the morning, Professor Herman offered Sig a ride. He accepted the offer and prayed the insurance check would arrive soon so he could stop bumming rides.
After his morning class, he met Professor Herman in his office. He handed Sig an object wrapped in dried leaves. “Put this in your pocket. Leave it there until after the meeting. Now we’d better get to the Dean’s office.”
Dean Heathcoat had a reception area three times the size of the Professors office. It came equipped with an efficient secretary who looked up and nodded to Professor Herman when they walked in. “He’s running a little behind schedule. He asked that you wait for a few minutes.” She gestured toward a seating area with maroon leather couches and two comfortable chairs clustered around a large, low table. Soft music played over concealed speakers. “May I get you something to drink?”
“Some lemon grass tea would be very nice, Virginia.”
She looked to Sig with raised eyebrows. “I’ll have the same if it’s no trouble, ma’am.”
She smiled, nodded, and stepped into a small kitchenette. Returning in a few minutes, she set two large black cups emblazoned with the University logo on the low table, and returned to her desk.
Sig felt queasy. It was the same feeling he had when he passed the Dean in the hall outside the Professor’s office, but not quite as rancid. He sipped his tea, hoping it would purge the nausea. Professor Herman looked at him with concern. Sig glanced over at him. “I’ll be OK.” If Rick could get used to the multitude of smells that assailed him, Sig decided he could handle this.
The Dean’s door opened and he emerged to greet them. He extended his hand. “Arthur, sorry to keep you waiting. Our lovely benefactress, Bernadette, called to check on her money.” Pleasure didn’t reflect in his eyes.
A greater wave of nausea passed over Sig. The Dean turned and extended his hand. “You must be Sigurd Stromgard. Are you all right? You’re a bit pale around the edges.”
Sig forced himself to grasp the Dean’s outstretched hand. It felt like clutching something in the bottom of a garbage pail. He didn’t want to embarrass the Professor by throwing up on the Dean. He improvised, “My allergies are in full bloom, and I’ve run out of my medication. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Please come in, I’ll keep this brief.”
Sig followed them into an office that was larger than the reception area. He took a seat with the Professor in front of the Dean’s desk.
“Bernadette Hanson and her lawyer called to inquire about the spending of her bequest. I assured her that the entire amount would support the study of the Physics of Magic.” Sig had the impression of someone sucking on a lemon as he said it.
Professor Herman and the Dean reviewed details of the budget. Sig studied the Dean as they talked. He sensed a difference to the Dean, but he still couldn’t figure out what. The overall sense of evil inducing his nausea was less, as it had been at the Game Room before the battle. He attributed that to getting used to it, like Rick did with smells.
