“No. Mature wolves only.”
“To wait for Grandpa is best,” Eli said. “I am mature, but it is not my place to teach you, or allow a hunt. Our laws are good.”
“Let’s run more,” Evie said. “At home I can eat.”
“That is best. The human requires much less.”
“Let us run,” Emmy said, standing excitedly and then bowing into a deep stretch. The other wolves stood and stretched also, and in a single file they left the oasis, moving out onto the main trail.
“Lead us south,” Eli said to the young speeders, pointing in the right direction.
At once the speeders made eye contact, understood one another, and sped off down the southbound trail, the moon rising over the trees as they ran. But now the speeders did not race. Instead they ran comfortably, shoulder-to-shoulder, panting happily as old friends, each with great respect for the other.
Evie was new. She did not know that this occurrence happened sometimes between common wild animals. It was the instinct of brotherhood—or in this case, sisterhood—that sometimes bridged the gap between otherwise close rivals and various opposites. It was the spirit of union that sometimes caused odd friendships among animals, even the adoptions of the helpless young between differing species. In wild wolves it was the spirit that enabled new packs to be formed, and old packs to reunite after long summers apart, moving down the bloodlines through centuries, and rising to the surface now in the hearts of two more young wolves. If Evie had been pressed to put a name on this wild, friendly spirit she sensed hovering in the space between their two bodies, she would have simply called it love.
Miles went by in a blur. All that stopped the two speeders was an unexpected visitor. Running fast, ahead of them a black shape suddenly lumbered out onto the trail, surprising them both so that they scratched to a hurried stop. With all their focus being on the run and each other, they had failed to scent this visitor through the dense brush.
Standing back on two legs, the fat black bear rose to his full height and roared a deep warning to the small pack.
“We startled him,” Eli told Evie as he walked up beside her. “Do not trouble him. These bears do not trouble us.”
The fat bear lowered himself again to four legs. As he did, Evie realized that he had understood Eli’s message. After a few short growls of annoyance—unless Evie’s ears deceived her, she could have sworn she heard him grumbling something about youth always being in a rush—he lumbered off into the darkness under the trees, resuming his tireless quest for wild berries.
Evie looked quickly around at the others wearing an expression of shocked confusion. “Did I … Did you?” she stammered.
“We understand many animals,” Eli said over the laughter of the others, “if they choose to speak and we listen closely. But sometimes they do not; we are not natural to them.”
“Grumpy old bear,” laugh-panted Emmy.
Evie could only laugh along. She’d never dreamed of conversing with bears, grumpy or otherwise.
The five wolves started off at a trot together. At Emmy’s suggestion the two fastest wolves darted off in the lead once more. They only ran a short time, less than a mile, to reach yet another fork in the snowmobile trail. The slower three came along, panting as they slowed.
“They show us up,” David said, shaking his scruff as he looked at his sister.
The speeders panted wearing proud expressions. From all of their mouths went up plumes of steam into the cool night air.
“Is it time?” Emmy asked.
“The moon travels fast during fun,” her brother told her.
Emmy dropped her beautiful head.
“Nash Stream?” Eli said to David.
“Is she allowed?”
“It is no hunt.”
Emmy began bouncing and whining excitedly, “Yes! We play more.”
Evie looked around at the other wolves, waiting for someone to explain.
“Run southeast,” said Eli. “Stop at the bridge. We have a surprise for you there.”
The two speeders wasted no time running off. The bridge where they stopped was not far, less than a mile. It was a wooden platform constructed by snowmobilers over a narrow stream that was no more than a dozen feet across. Evie did not understand its significance.
“Get the fish!” Emmy said then, and leaped down the bank and splashed into the water.
Evie followed curiously, watching as her friend churned the waters. Dipping her white snout in and out of the water in fast snaps, she eventually came up with a fish in her jaws. From behind her Evie heard the laughter of the other wolves now watching from the bridge.
“Get one!” Emmy barked, after chomping down the fish in a few bites. “Good snack.”
Evie plunged into the water, half watching Emmy, half watching the dark pools sparkling with moonlight. The water was cold, but not in a shocking way; her wolf was definitely tougher in regards to cold. Then in a move she would never have attempted in her human form, she finally plunged her head into a pool between two rocks, copying Emmy, snapping the cold water until she felt a wriggling fish brush by her nose. Her jaws snapped toward the feeling, and after two tries, closed around the fish.
“Eat!” the other wolves cried as Evie raised her head. “Eat!”
Stepping from the stream, she dropped the fish on a smooth rock, examining it first with her eyes, then her keen nose. She was hungry, but wasn’t sure she was that hungry. Eventually, with the voices of her companions egging her on, she picked up the ten-inch brook trout and bit down hard. The flavor released quickly in her mouth. To her relief, it was not as bad as she’d expected. In fact, after a few grinding bites, it began to taste moderately good. This surprised her greatly.
“Good?” Said Emmy.
“Not bad,” Evie yipped.
“Not bad,” the other wolves agreed. “No, not bad.”
Her next fish took longer to catch. The fish were well disturbed within the pools and hung near to the banks and lower corners of the rocks. By the time she’d caught and eaten her second fish, Emmy had eaten two more and then climbed from the water, satisfied. Evie joined them on the wooden bridge, dripping wet and licking her chops.
“Feel better?” Eli asked.
“I do,” Evie said.
“Then it is a good night.”
“Very good,” the other wolves agreed.
“It is late,” Eli said. “Time has flown. You will need rest.”
“We all will after running us so hard,” David said.
All the wolves laughed.
Of the five, Evie and Emmy were the saddest to part. Being the youngest and least concerned with food, they wished to play the remaining hours of the night away. The others assured them that there would be many more good nights to follow, and after some lingering, each said good night to all with whines and rubs.
Quite suddenly, as the party was breaking up, there was an angry growl from Emmy’s throat. Perhaps it had been her brother’s stance beside Evie, or his tone when saying good night to her, that set Emmy off. “My friend,” she warned her brother, then quickly scampered a short distance away.
“What?” Evie asked innocently.
Eli and Sarah stood with heads swaying side to side, watching closely but saying nothing, as most wolves do when witnessing a dispute.
“My sister hates goodbyes,” David said after Emmy rushed off. “She will feel badly now. I must go. Good night,” he said again, and trotted off to catch his sister.
From a distance Emmy turned and called one last promise of another run tomorrow night. Evie replied to her in a short burst of yips, saying in essence, “You got it!”
“I knew you would like them,” Eli said.
“I do,” Evie said. “Thank you so much.”
“We can be very territorial at times,” he explained.
“Emmy does not wish to share you,” Sarah explained with a laugh.
“I can be friends with everyone!” Evie exclaimed, and threw herself int
o a mini celebration.
Eli and Sarah laughed at her.
Moving northwest, they showed Evie to a narrow trail that approached Grandpa Snow’s house from the southernmost corn field. Evie understood then how close to town they had come, and began to have a sense for her territory with her inner compass. Between the corn stalks the three trotted, and when they reached the driveway they walked easily and quietly, passing the long barns calmly to avoid stirring the animals.
“Calm,” Sara told Evie in the dooryard. “Your warm robe waits.”
Evie saw the white robe over the porch railing. She was warm as the wolf, but she knew now from experience that she’d be cold once she made the shift. To envision the soft comfort of the robe would help her make the change.
“Lie on the porch,” Eli said, “and focus your mind. Rest. Tomorrow will be another good night.”
“Thank you,” Evie said, “for taking me out.” But her many whines and low groans went well beyond that. They meant, Thank you for watching out for me, and for not holding my behavior over my head.
Both of the older wolves nuzzled the silver-white. They said good night quietly and turned away.
“As always, wolves patrol tonight,” Eli said a few steps away. “Their scents may drift on the wind. It is best to stay here.”
“Okay,” Evie bobbed her head. “I will.”
Stepping as softly as she could, she climbed onto the front porch and curled up. From where she lay she watched the two grays disappear down the long driveway. Watching them go, her stomach was an aching void from the run; little fish to big wolves were no more than crackers to a human. But it had been a wonderful night, and the hunger pangs were well worth the hours of fun. More than anything, she was thankful for the love and inclusion of such great family members. As stubborn as she could sometimes be, Evie had never been near an ingrate.
Evie scented the air lightly. She had many strong senses that she’d just begun to understand, but as the wolf, she had little sense of time, other than the frustration of waiting under the traveling stars and moon. Learning the human shift was far from her favorite part of this new deal. Though she could remember clearly the first willful shift into the wolf, becoming human later that night she could not recall beyond the frenzied excitement. Dull things are often overlooked until they become necessary things.
Lying on her side now, she was completely still apart from the subtle twitching of her black nose. She was scenting the air obsessively, working her nose while the rest of her rested. No wolves were very near, she knew, besides those sleeping inside the house. But there was another scent—one she could not identify. It was plain and uninteresting, definitely not a threat, but it was all that she had to occupy herself. So she kept on sniffing and trying to identify its source.
In the house there was food, she knew. Chicken and roast beef she could detect through wooden walls and refrigerator doors. The other scent was much weaker and unusual to the house, but the more she sniffed and tried to guess at it, the more obsessed with the seemingly trivial scent she became.
At last—it was probably only a half an hour later—when the appeal to become human outweighed the appeal of the solitary wolf on the firm porch, she felt the change happening.
Pulling on the robe as she entered the house, Evie closed the door softly. She walked on her toes to the kitchen, keeping her bare heels from the cool floor. The kitchen clock read nearly 3:30 AM. In the fridge she found chicken on a plate covered with plastic wrap. She set the plate on the counter, tore the wrapper, and began eating where she stood. Her fingers were fine utensils, and cold chicken never tasted so good.
Once the plate was clean Evie walked to the great room and sat back on one of the couches. The chicken scent permeated her fingers, and she licked them until every trace of chicken taste was gone. No one was around to see her. And since she was part wolf, “No wolfing your food,” didn’t seem to apply anymore. Why not enjoy her late night snack like an animal?
When the chicken scent was gone, the other, strange scent she’d noticed outside began tickling her nose again. It was less noticeable now than it had been as the wolf, but she’d become familiar with it, and it was still clearly present. With nothing else to do at such an hour, it was mildly intriguing.
Evie stood and walked softly through the quiet house, following the scent. At the far end of the kitchen she paused by the basement door; she sniffed deeply. The strange scent was strongest there; she was sure of it. Turning the knob quietly, she opened the door. One sniff told her that she was on the right track. She flipped on the light and went quietly down the stairs.
The basement floor was even colder than the kitchen floor to her bare feet. She walked forward, wincing from the cold, and tugged a pull-string to alight another bulb, giving more light to the large basement. Rows of shelves lined some of the walls. Boxes and books and various household supplies were on the shelves. In the middle there was much open space. At the far corner she saw the door to what her grandfather had always called the utility room—a block of a room added as if an afterthought. She now noticed water tanks and the furnace outside of the room and wondered about the name. To the door of that room she walked slowly, quietly following the scent. As she gripped and turned the door knob, she was surprised by a sound from within the room—the very last sound she ever expected to hear in her grandparents’ basement.
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Someone had called “hello” from inside.
At first Evie had jumped, startled. Then something clicked in her mind, and she stepped closer. “Who is that?” she asked, wanting to be certain before she let her temper fly.
“It’s Dale … your grandfather’s friend,” was the muffled reply.
You’re dead meat raced through Evie’s mind as she cranked the doorknob hard. Luckily for him, the door wouldn’t open. She looked and found the heavy deadbolt, slid it, and tried the nob again. Still no go.
“It’s locked from the inside also,” Dale kindly informed her.
“You could’ve told me that,” Evie snapped. “Open this door right now. Or I’ll … I’ll …”
“Would you like to kill me too?” his muffled, sulky voice said.
“Is it true?” Evie asked, recalling her grandmother’s comment. “Did you tell those cats about me?”
“I can explain everything.”
“Oh, really now?”
“If you promise not to kill me, I’ll open the door.”
Evie narrowed her eyes and glared at the door, picturing his face. Her body began to heat up like a running furnace. “I’m not promising you anything,” was the only promise she could make.
From inside the small room Evie heard the deadbolt slide. The heavy door slowly opened to reveal a dark room but for a nightlight shining from the corner. The door opened fully, and by the light from her back she saw folding chairs and a badly torn mattress on the floor. Then she saw Dale. He looked pretty rough. For a moment Evie felt sorry for him. Still, it took all of her self control to keep from attacking him on the spot. The memory of the cat—its eyes and its hateful hiss—was too fresh in her mind. And pitiful or not, he was to blame for their visit.
“Afraid of the dark, are we?” she finally said. They were the kindest words she could then offer.
“I am tonight,” Dale said.
As Evie took a step forward, Dale flinched, taking a step back.
“Take it easy,” he muttered.
Evie was right up on her toes leaning towards him, appearing very angry, but secretly reveling in the fact that her simple step had caused him to flinch. “Explain yourself computer boy!”
“Before you bite my head off—”
“Don’t give me any ideas.”
“Listen, I didn’t know those … people meant you harm, Evie. I didn’t know they were cats. I didn’t know anything.”
“No? So you figured spying on my family was a good idea?”
“I wasn’t really spying.” He stepped back slightly. “Come in a
nd sit down, and we’ll talk this over rationally.”
Evie huffed in disbelief. “I’ll stand right here, and you’ll talk real nice to keep me from kicking your ass. How’s that sound?”
“Oh-kay,” Dale said, holding his hands up defensively. “I know you could if you chose to. I’ve never seen one of your … family talents—not in full—but I understand now that none of you should be taken lightly.”
“You’ve got that much right,” Evie said. “And I’m right close to showing you exactly what we look like. Explain yourself, now.”
“Look,” he said, “if it makes you feel any better, those people …cats, whatever. They want me dead now too.”
“Why do they want you dead?”
“The mole always gets killed once it fails. If I’m out of the way, I guess the cats figure they can play ignorant when the Ludlows come calling. They don’t know your grandfather the way I do, Evie. They think he’s as bad as they apparently are. They’ll kill me to keep me from talking to him. Your grandfather seemed quite sure of it. Or at least feared it.”
“Keep going,” Evie said. Her anger had been slightly softened by intrigue, and perhaps a tiny amount of compassion.
“I worked for your grandfather last fall,” Dale said.
“I know that. Get to the point.”
“Okay, well, everything went fine for a few months. Then out of the blue one day two guys stopped me in the parking lot at my work, asking how I liked working for Mr. Ludlow. I said, ‘Good,’ automatically, because that was the truth. Before I could ask them any questions, they offered me double what I was getting paid from Joe Ludlow—which was good money—if I kept them informed of any strange happenings I might observe or overhear. ‘You’re kidding,’ I said. I was about to walk away. ‘No,’ they said, and one of them handed me an envelope with five hundred dollars in it. ‘To show you we’re serious,’ he said.”
Evie furrowed her brow. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have sworn she was talking to a small child. “Two strange men offered you money … and you took it?”
Silver-White (The Great North Woods Pack #1) Page 12
