Black Wolf

by Steph Shangraw

  Article of the month: I recommend two, actually, I couldn’t decide. One is by Samantha, about familiars—which types are best for what, the nature of the bond, how to strengthen it, things of that sort. Excellent information for everyone who has a familiar or is thinking of getting one. The other is by Nils Moreau, his speculation on the role elves, dryads, wolves, and human gifted played in creating the very mythologies we now use as a source of symbols. There are places where no evidence is available, but it’s certainly enough to make one stop and think.

  There’s a dance, at the community hall, on the 25th, the Friday before the full moon Sunday. It’s open to all, there’ll be the usual potluck table so our elves can stay their usual energetic selves, I’m not sure who’s DJing. It’s 8pm to 1am, sliding scale $3 10.

  Coven Natesa are looking for short stories, poetry, black and white art, cartoons, or anything else that can be printed—they’re putting together a book of Haven’s creative talents, and we do have a lot! Submissions aren’t guaranteed to be in it, but chances are good. They’ll be printed, spiral bound, and sold in a few local places.

  The White Stag folks tell me they have a whole collection of new Haven-deck, Tarot, medicine, and similar cards. Several are brand-new sets by artists in Canadian or other mixed villages. I don’t even do cards but there’s a water-slanted witch set that’s calling to me!

  Coven Starluck’s house has found an owner—Coven Sundark! One of Haven’s first houses has been abandoned for a decade or more, since even with all the well-off families in Haven no one’s wanted the amount of work involved in (not to mention the cost of) fixing it up into habitable condition. Yes, Cynthia ‘Sundark promised to let me at the attics (I can hardly wait!), but I swear to behave myself. Besides, Brittany won’t let me get out of line!

  Historical notes. Sixteen years ago March was the height of the “ghost craze”: someone found out about a nasty accidental death (which I’m not going to describe) and wondered if the ghost of the woman in question might still be around. That got things started, and for a while everyone was seeing ghosts everywhere. The problem is, with the levels of psychic activity in Haven, the “ghosts” could be any of four things: over-active imagination; real ghosts still walking; real ghosts or something else, pulled back by all the excitement; or something created by all that energy focused (sometimes hysterically) on one thing. Eventually, all the “ghosts” that could be found were laid to rest by a group that formed for that purpose, consisting of Haven’s more mature and stable mages, witches, mind-gifted, a couple of wolves, a healer, and the three Adepts here at the time.

  Enjoy March, see you in April!

  13

  Caitryn, as a chestnut wolf, bounced into the yard of Coven Sundark’s house, paused to look back and check that Gisela was still coming, then frisked off.

  Gisela watched her greet Evaline respectfully, crouching slightly and turning away, ears back and tail down. Pale-furred Evaline rubbed her cheek against Caitryn’s affectionately, and both bitches bounded away in a mad game of tag.

  Well, so much for her companion. Gisela circled the house to the back yard, towards the general noise and merriment.

  Most of her friends were here already, perched on the back porch and the picnic table. Bane and Bryan were poised on either side of a stick, daring each other to try to pick it up, growling in what an outsider might have thought was fierce threat; Evaline, with Caitryn almost close enough to bite her tail, ran by and feigned cowering behind Bane. Caitryn greeted Bane the same way she had Evaline earlier, before getting back to the puzzle of reaching the alpha bitch.

  “Heyla, ‘Sela,” Liam greeted her. “How’s it going?” Liam was the only other healer in this circle of friends, the only healer she felt especially close to other than her mother. Absently, he tucked an escaping lock of dark hair back under the bright-woven band Gisela had rarely seen him without. He said it kept his hair out of his eyes; she thought it was just to be different.

  “Pretty good,” she answered. “I wish Jess were here, I bet he’d have fun.”

  Liam shrugged. “It’s up to him.”

  “Oh, I know. How are you doing with your mother’s horse?” She leaned against the porch railing, watched all four wolves now chasing each other around the yard. Evaline was smallest, dwarfed by the two males, but she was also lightning-fast and agile; no one could catch her, but she excelled at getting close enough to the others to nip at them and race away again. She was alpha bitch for a reason, and it wasn’t only her quick mind and ability to take control of a situation.

  “She’ll be okay, the cut’s healing nicely, and meanwhile she’s getting spoiled hopelessly.”

  “Listen up!” Liam’s coven-mate Nick shouted.

  Everyone quieted, and gathered around the picnic table; the wolves all shifted to human, quite sensibly all in the magesilks that changed with a wolf instead of needing to be removed, each in appropriate colours.

  “Okay. Now. We’re starting before sunset because there’s stuff hidden all over the place and there are some people who are at a disadvantage in the dark.” While Nick spoke, Flynn and Lori brought a considerable collection of baskets and large bowls to the table, spreading them all over the top. “Certain people who are prone to getting overly competitive in games are forewarned not to.” He gave the four wolves a stern look; Evaline made a face at him. “No one’s allowed outside the yard or in bedrooms, but anywhere else there are things hidden. Keep it fair, no magic. The only exception is that since Kev and Lori have no night-sight to speak of, if we’re out here long enough that you start to have trouble, you two are allowed to use just enough magic that you can see, but play fair, okay? Any questions?”

  “Can we start?” Bryan asked.

  “Other than that.”

  Silence.

  “Then grab a bowl and go!” Flynn declared.

  Instant motion, everyone reaching for the nearest bowl and scattering in different directions.

  It must have taken ages for Flynn and Nick and Lori to hide all the treats that were found: eggs painted glorious colours, pine-cones decorated in endless ways, candies of a dozen sorts. In the crotch of a tree she found a small object wrapped in bright cloth and tied with a ribbon; she’d seen a few others find such things, but they seemed to be rare.

  Lori finally called everyone back. From what Gisela had picked up, they’d divided the grounds in thirds and each hid the treats in one, leaving them free to help hunt the other two thirds.

  “Everybody should have a present,” Lori said, once everyone was back at the picnic table. “If someone has two, be nice and give one to someone who didn’t find one. We hid exactly enough.”

  There was brief confusion while that got settled.

  “Everyone got one?” Flynn said. “Open them.”

  Gisela set her basket on the ground, untied the bow and unwrapped it.

  Within was a delicate glass flower, the petals tinted amethyst-purple and the leaves rich jewel-green, the whole thing of a size to fit comfortably cupped on her palm.

  “Okay, gang,” Flynn said briskly, “That’s enough messing around outside. There’s water hot for tea et cetera, getting warm won’t hurt any of us.”

  The kitchen became a flurry of activity. As usual, the chaos resolved itself into some version of order, everyone settled with hot drinks in the living room—more bare than usual, since Cynthia and her housemates were packing up to move April first.

  “Everybody warm now?” Nick asked. “And feeling pretty good?”

  General agreement.

  “Good,” Lori said. “Then get comfortable, and let’s look for answers, shall we?” She placed a globe the size of a basketball, shimmery iridescent glass, probably hollow, in the middle of the floor. “For those who prefer to have something solid for scrying. Get comfortable and let’s go.”

  They tended to use more ritual at holidays than they did for everyday; the circle was properly cast, by whoever felt inspired to call each quarter.
>
  Gisela relaxed into the easy rhythm of Nick’s voice, leading them all into a light trance. Not that she expected any spectacular visions, she’d never had one. Her gaze dropped to the glass flower cupped in her hand, and stayed there, focused on the purple and green. Lori’s voice joined Nick’s, softly, weaving a counterpoint to his, then Flynn’s twined into theirs. The voices braided into each other, until it seemed like all one voice, only she couldn’t understand the words, they were a different language…

  She found, in some surprise, that she was on a hill beside a lake, the brilliant moonlight making silvery ripples on the dark water; one path curved down to the water, another led down the opposite face of the hill to a meadow where wolves played, chasing each other around in the wildflowers. A third path led to one side, up a higher hill.

  She wavered, and decided to go upwards.

  The top of the hill was flat and grassy; from here, she could see far down into the wolves’ meadow.

  To her surprise, Jesse was here, as always in black, kneeling beside a black wolf that sat unnaturally still. Crying?

  She dropped to one knee beside him. “Jess?”

  “It turned into stone,” he said tearfully. “Because I wouldn’t come down the hill. Now it’s dead because of me, when it should be free…”

  She laid a hand on the petrified wolf, concentrating hard, praying. Deep within, she felt warmth, the faint rumble of a heart beating.

  “It isn’t dead, Jess. Not yet. You still have time.”

  He raised his eyes, tears making their darkness shimmer, to hers. “But I don’t know what to do, I never know how to fix things. Just to mess them up.”

  “Try asking if it wants to go down with the other wolves. Tell it you’ll come, since it seems to want you to.”

  “I don’t belong there.”

  “If this wolf thinks you do, and the other wolves accept you when you go, then you do belong there.”

  Shivering, he bowed his head, hugging himself. After a moment, he reached out, and placed one trembling hand on the wolf’s head.

  “Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s go.”

  The moonlight danced over the stone wolf, and the hardness melted into full dynamic life. It greeted Jess joyfully, licking away his tears, and Jess wrapped his arms around it, burying his face in its fur.

  The moonlight brightened and shivered again, around the pair, and two forms flowed into one. The black wolf shook himself, cocked his head to listen to the howls of the wolves below. He threw back his head and answered the song, and trotted away towards the path down. Gisela followed him, got as far as the lower hilltop by the time he reached the other wolves. She smiled to herself, watching them welcome him.

  Something glittering caught her eye, and she turned. Snagged on a short jutting tree branch was a rope of dark sparkling stones and silver links, about long enough for a wolf’s collar. Too high up for her to reach, though she tried.

  A narrow-winged falcon dived out of the starry sky, snatched the collar, and despite Gisela’s cry of protest vanished back into the night.

  Gisela blinked, focused on the glass flower cupped in her hand, heard the braided voices gradually coming apart. She smiled in satisfaction. That could only mean one thing: Jess was going to be okay, Rebecca hadn’t done any permanent damage.

  Except… what had the collar and falcon been?

  No matter, she’d find out in due time.

  14

  The two black wolves sniffed warily around the edges of the large yard. The landscaping, just slightly wild, worked in around ancient trees, had the kind of whole look that usually meant a dryad or an earth-oriented witch had a hand in its care; the trees, whether the gardener knew or not, bore scent traces of a wolf claiming this as his residence. The house was medium-large, well-kept without being overly fancy, though the wooden ramp that doubled back and forth in front of the house made them pause briefly. Aindry could smell wood-smoke on the breeze, a warm and homey kind of scent.

  Overall, this was probably a good place to try. If not here, well, there were lots of other houses in Falias.

  They faded back into the woods to where they’d left their packs; a few minutes later, human-form and dressed, they walked up to the wide front door, and Aindry knocked.

  The woman who opened the door had a distinctly dryad scent, the dark brown in her short curly hair nearly eclipsed by the grey. She over-topped the two wolves by a good six inches, and out-massed either by half again, but she greeted them with a friendly, if curious, smile.

  “Yes?”

  “We were wondering if you had any odd jobs around that we can do, for, say, a meal?” Aindry said tentatively. This never got any easier. They dared not spend too much time in the mixed villages, or anywhere for that matter, terrified that if they did Unity would be repeated all over again. So, in a long circuit, they visited once each Falias in Newfoundland and Endor in Quebec and Irminsul in Saskatchewan and Ravenrock in British Columbia and Aralu that was the newest, up in the Northwest Territories. By unspoken mutual consent, they never went within a very broad circle around Unity, and Haven was within that range, much too close for comfort, close enough to stir memories neither wanted to bring back to the light of day; they passed through Ontario as quickly as they could each time. Never the same house twice, and sometimes they had to knock on more than one door before someone decided to be generous.

  “Floria?” A man came into the broad hallway behind her. “Who is it?”

  Aindry instantly dropped her gaze and went very still, almost before consciously identifying the scent and the casual confidence of an alpha in his own territory; she didn’t need to look to know that, half a step behind her, Jaisan was doing the same.

  “Don’t worry about earning it right now,” the dryad said briskly. “You both look like you’ve gone about half feral. Come on in, don’t worry, Ian won’t bite you, not unless he wants me to deal with. Take your boots off there, and we’ll see about a hot bath.” She backed up to let them in, and closed the door behind them. “I’m Floria, he’s Ian, and our coven-mate Wren is around somewhere.”

  Aindry looked to Ian for confirmation, before moving.

  Ian simply smiled; there were a lot of laugh-lines there, Aindry thought. “I learned better than to argue with Flor a long time ago. Consider yourselves welcome. The house has been quiet since the kids moved out, and we have an extra room upstairs where you can sleep if you need it. I’m sure we can find enough around here to keep a couple of strong young bodies busy.”

  Hospitality had always been a tradition in the mixed villages, or so Aindry had been taught; it wasn’t universally honoured these days, but the ones who did, did it properly, she thought. Gratefully, she slipped out of her heavy worn coat, and started on the laces of her boots; Jaisan, waiting for her to decide, immediately followed suit. “I’m Aindry. Jaisan’s my brother.”

  Floria nodded, took the two coats to hang on a set of hooks on the wall, and moved farther into the house to yell, “Wren! We have guests!”

  “Do they need a healer?” a pleasant baritone called back, from somewhere Aindry thought was on the same floor but towards the back.

  “Not immediately, I think!”

  “Then I’ll meet them in a few minutes.”

  “He has a rabbit back there that had a passing encounter with a car,” Ian explained. “Why he won’t just let me eat it, I will never understand.” He shrugged, and sighed. “Healers.”

  “Healers are usually pretty softhearted,” Jaisan said timidly.

  “And I suppose we’d all be in trouble if they weren’t, but that doesn’t mean I understand them. So. We only have one full bathroom. Who wants to get warm first?”

  “Jais,” Aindry said without hesitation. “I can wait.”

  Floria nodded again. “And we’ll see if we can’t find something clean for you to put on while we throw your clothes in the laundry.”

  Aindry suppressed a twinge of apprehension as Ian led Jaisan upstairs; b
eing separated while outside hunting was one thing, but inside, with walls and doors around them, it made her nervous. But there were no scents of treachery or hostility or demon influence here, only kindness and concern. With her backpack slung once again over her shoulder, she followed Floria to a large bright kitchen at the end of the hall—around the rather cluttered counters, and an island in the centre with a ramp to a raised area on one side, the linoleum floor was obviously kept deliberately clear. Even the three chairs at a table to one end were all carefully pushed in all the way.

  Floria headed immediately for the fridge, and produced a large pan; once the plastic wrap was off, Aindry caught the wonderful scent of homemade lasagne. “Kids your age need to eat like elves of any age,” Floria said. “Supper won’t be for a while yet, so I think we’ll just microwave a couple of slices of this to keep the two of you until then.”

  “We can’t…” Aindry began, badly torn between the tantalizing scent and her own pride and honour.

  Floria turned around to look at her. “Your brother needs it,” she said calmly.

  Aindry recognized the direct appeal to her wolf instincts—she was alpha, it was her responsibility to take care of Jais—but recognizing it didn’t lessen the power of it noticeably. She lowered her eyes again. “We both do,” she admitted.

  “I won’t ask why the two of you aren’t living with your family somewhere, instead of wandering around with next to nothing, that’s your business. It won’t cost us any great amount to feed you for a day or two and give you a warm place to sleep, and I hope that if my two daughters were in trouble, someone would do the same for them. No more arguing, understand?”

  Aindry smiled, hesitantly—it felt like an expression she rarely used, these days. “Understand.” She resolved to find something she and Jais could do to pay them back for the charity, though. There must be something around—wood to chop, maintenance on a car, housecleaning, something.