“Yes,” he said. “More than once.”
“How did you escape?”
They must be released. If the mechanism becomes too rusted and frozen, and saws are not handy, the limb must be severed.”
Erica looked at the old one’s forelegs.
“They grow back in days,” he said. “Of that we are fortunate above other beasts, though the process is far from a pleasant one.”
“Did,” she began, then hesitated. “Did you break my legs to make them stronger?”
“I broke both your body and your will,” he replied. “As you see, your healing is rapid. By pushing you near to death, the strength of old has filled you afresh. By sunset you will be far stronger than you were at sunrise. No pain or bloodshed you encounter will ever be agreeable, but from now on it will be more easily endured. You are now, young one, a terrible force to be reckoned with.”
Erica stared into the old brute’s face for a moment. He stared back, neither menacingly nor sorrowfully. He quietly tolerated her persistent eye contact, almost as if she’d risen in rank in his estimation. But she dared not test this assumption too persistently. Turning her eyes back to the remains of the cow flank, she crawled to it and resumed eating.
“Rest when you have finished,” Abel said, rising again to his feet. “Let the remains of this creature’s life bring about renewal of yours. I will bring more.”
***
She was asleep when the second cow leg was dropped on the ground before her. Startled, she arose quickly, got all four legs under her, and then slumped to the ground again just as quickly. Her body functioned now, but it did so with great awkwardness and discomfort. She was still, so to speak, not fully out of the woods.
“This should finish you,” Abel said regarding the second slab of meat. “And when you can walk, you will go to the pool and drink. That water, I myself have used to hasten my journey back from the dead.”
“Thank you,” Erica said, although it felt exceedingly strange to say those words to him. “I understand now.”
“No,” he replied. “You will only understand in full when you have survived a true battle; a life and death struggle that demands your very all.”
“That, beyond age, is what makes the elders great. Am I not right?”
“You are. Strength begets strength, and injury calls forth deeper powers. Having brushed close with death, you have emerged from that dark place with even greater life. But do not be overly proud in it. See the ground, stained with your life blood. And look over the small remains of this animal that has given you its strength. Be grateful for the opportunity given you. It is a power denied to these helpless creatures. Use it well.”
“Yes,” Erica said. She could feel her strength returning to her by the minute, even as before she had felt it draining out of her. Like never before, she began to appreciate the new life swelling within her.
“It is now safe to say,” Abel continued, “that you have passed yet another test. First was receiving of the spirit. Now you have known hunger, been weary, been scored, and physically proven. Maintain this course, and you will be great also. A day is coming when necessity will demand your all to survive. Retain these lessons for that day, and you will triumph. And when you stand over a defeated foe, and it is his blood staining the ground, the sweetness of that victory will be well worth the investment of blood you have paid the ground here today. This is good ground to pay and good ground to defend. It is ours, and will be as long as we are willing to fight for it.”
The young wolf looked eagerly at him. There wasn’t a shred of self-pity left in her. Confidence, not pride, was filling her.
“But,” Abel said. “Do not forsake the smaller matters. Killer of the wicked, defender of loved ones, you are foremost a Steward of Earth. To watch and manage all manner of creatures weaker than yourself is your daily task. These places of wilderness must be maintained, or else they will be no more.”
“That is why we did not kill the poachers?” she said.
“We did not kill them because they are men. When you kill one man, there is a tendency for several more to take his place. If we can push them out without killing, whether they deserve it or not, so be it. If we can frighten them off, we are spared of conflict. And still the offense, in their case killing for sport rather than survival, was rewarded justly.”
“Grandpa is always concerned about life. I didn’t think—”
“Of course he is. Because he is the best of both men and beasts. It is a fine, fine line to walk, and he does it better than most. By all these influences, I am telling you, learn. Remember today, and do not be eager to deal out death for sport, as men kill for thrill and bragging rights. Having almost tasted death, you now understand it better than before. It is utter ruin, utter despair; a total stripping of self and total loss of purpose. As my brother would say, like our father, from the greatest to the weakest of living things, disembodiment is a most unnatural phenomenon. Those that inflict it gladly upon others, most often those weaker than themselves, are indeed bent and most perverse of all beings.”
“Yes,” she said. “I see that clearer now.”
“Very well,” the old one said firmly. And then in a tone that was softer, kinder than Erica had ever heard from him, he said, “As the sun is now falling behind the trees, let us be done with this ugly lesson. Though you may not believe it, I am as glad as you to have it behind me.”
The young wolf gave him a slight but respectful nod.
“Child, you have exceeded my expectations,” he said softer still. “Hold your head high; you are a credit to both your kind and your family. Whether you roam at my side or return to the pack, know that you have earned my utmost respect. My nephew has given his pack a brave defender. If even you were my own daughter, I could be no prouder of you.”
She looked at him silently, unable to find the words to respond. After a lifetime of being scolded for her aggression, the heartfelt compliment from her revered elder—the most brutal of the living Snows—was overwhelming to all of her delicate senses.
“My word is my bond,” he said then. “The trial of your initiation is over. As long as I live, I will never harm you again.”
~11~
It was after ten when Evie finally got the two girls to bed. With them safely out of the way in her room, she went down to the great room and sprawled out on the couch. The demands of the day were over. After a short rest, she would enjoy the rewards of a long night.
Near midnight she awoke. Her grandfather had taken hold of her shoulder, holding it just firm enough to wake her without a sound. As she sat up she saw her grandmother stepping through the sliding door. She followed them out, closed the door softly, made the change, and met them on the grass beneath the porch.
“We are meeting with the elders again,” the white wolf said. “With the guests present, I ask that you remain close to home tonight.”
“But David—” Evie began.
“He will come calling, I do not doubt,” the white wolf said. “If by chance one of the girls wakes and finds you missing, you will have greater complication. Stay within earshot, that you might hear their voices.”
“Yes, Papa,” Evie said, her head sinking in disappointment.
“It is only one night,” he said. “Only part of one night.”
“Yes,” she said softly.
The two old wolves gave approving nods, then turned and trotted for the trail to Moon Rock.
Back inside, sulking, Evie wrapped up in her robe and sat on the couch in the dark. It’s only one night, she reminded herself. Just one night. They have no idea that they’re causing my trouble. Their hearts were in the right place.
***
On the eastern edge of Ludlow, at that same moment, David crouched in the dark; at his side was Matthew. They were watching the campsite of the bear hunters, seeing the glow of coals of their fire pit, hearing them snoring in the tent.
“They’ve killed nothing,” Matthew observed. “Maybe they will
give up after such a bad day. In the morning they might leave.”
“Maybe,” David said. “Or maybe we should get them off to an early start.”
“I don’t know,” Matthew said. “The elders are meeting again. With everyone as tense as they are, I don’t wish to start more trouble.”
“We won’t harm them.”
“But you want to.”
“Wanting and doing are not the same.”
“No. But what if you can’t stop at just scaring them?” Matthew asked. “What if they start firing?”
“We’ll run,” David said.
“If they shoot, the sound will carry.”
“Just a quick scare,” David said.
“No more than that,” Matthew said.
“No more, I promise.”
***
In the dark Amy moved with extreme caution. Creeping through a strange house in the middle of the night was far down on the list of her favorite activities. Thirst had woken her, perpetuated by allergy pills, and after a visit to the upstairs bathroom, it drove her now to the kitchen for a glass of cold water. It’s a never ending process, she thought. Why can’t they invent medicine that makes you not thirsty?
The wooden stairs felt cold on her bare feet. Gripping the railing firmly, she watched her feet moving below her until she reached bottom. She couldn’t see much beyond them anyway. The entire house was a gray blur.
At last she reached the kitchen. Moving carefully, hoping not to disturb Evie on the couch, she stood on her toes and got a glass from the cupboard. She let the water run at low flow for a minute to get cold. When she’d filled the glass, she took a long drink before moving quietly up the stairs again.
Don’t drink it all now, she told herself. She was back in the bedroom and placed the glass on the bed stand. Moderation is the key. Hydration without flooding.
Just as she was ready to get back into bed, a small sound caught her attention. She stood perfectly still, listening. It was a scratchy, creaking sound that seemed to be coming from the outside wall of the house. Don’t tell me they have mice, she thought. That’s the last thing I need.
She stepped up to the window and looked out over the dark pasture. The sound persisted. She couldn’t remember seeing a tree anywhere near the house during daylight, but the sound reminded her more and more of a branch, stirred by the breeze, scraping against a wall. She rubbed her eyes, then blinked. A glance over her shoulder showed Jessie, sleeping soundly of course, oblivious as usual to even the slightest of problems.
As she turned back to the window, she gave her eyes one last rub. Focusing as best as she could, she peered out the window again, first toward the right, then to the left corner. The slightest hint of a movement caught her attention. She leaned closer to the window, so close that her forehead was touching he glass. A mouse? She thought. On the windowsill? On the second floor?
The movements were not of a scurrying mouse; they were fingers. Human fingers. This sudden understanding caused Amy’s heart to leap and her breathing to cease. Just above the fingers there appeared a shadow. It was oval, and it was rising slowly up over the sill, like the moon climbing over a tree line. The oval contained within it two points of amber light. Eyes, she suddenly realized … glowing eyes, momentarily locking with hers.
Amy staggered back, bumped the bed stand, spilled the water, and fell back onto the bed. The eyes had disappeared as quickly as they’d been made evident to her. But her fright was just reaching its climax. After seconds of gathering force, she released her breath with a terrified shriek.
Jess shot up to the sound of screaming and the repeated message of, “Monster! Monster! Help!” Bewildered and suddenly panic-stricken herself, she couldn’t help but join in with her friend.
***
Awake suddenly, Evie was on her feet in a second. The screaming was coming from her bedroom. Resisting every urge to transform, and so attain her greatest speed, she flew up the stairs as fast as her two legs would carry her, taking two steps at a time. In her room she found a heaving mass of blankets flailing about her bed. Nothing else but the fallen bed stand was out of place. No one else was present. She flipped on the light just in time to see Amy lose the battle for the blankets. She tumbled half out of the bed while Jess, shivering and crying under the pile of bedding, wrapped herself ever tighter in a protective cocoon of flannel and down.
“Evie!”
“What?” she yelled, more annoyed now than startled.
“M-m-monster,” Amy shuddered, struggling to get to her feet. “I saw it. A monster. Half man, half monster. Trying to get in the window!”
“What are you on?” Evie said, and just as she spoke she ventured to guess what had happened. As she’d fallen back to sleep, David and Matthew were probably looking for her. And even if they weren’t looking for her, she wouldn’t put it past either of them to play a joke. “It’s okay,” she said, moving quickly from anger to understanding. “You’re okay.”
“I-I-I-I was so scared,” Amy panted. She threw her arms around Evie once she finally got her feet under her again. “Oh. My. God.”
“You’re fine,” Evie assured her. “I promise.”
“I’m not kidding,” Amy said. “I looked it right in the eye. It saw me. It was like a spider man. Or a—”
“No, no,” Evie assured her. “Relax. It’s just my cousin pulling a prank.”
“Matthew?” Jessie said, throwing off the pile of bedding. Her composure had returned to her in a nanosecond. “Really?”
***
“Did you hear that?” Matthew said. He and David were standing at the back corner of the farmhouse, listening.
“The blonde one is into you.”
“Not that. I mean I’m getting the blame for this.”
“I’ll tell her it was me,” David said.
“That’s right, you will. And if she roughs you up, I’m not sticking up for you.”
“Let’s get out of here,” David said. “If she comes out, she’ll find us.”
“You’d better hope she doesn’t,” Matthew said as the two wolves loped off across the pasture to the western tree line.
***
“My grandparents sleep very soundly,” Evie had assured the girls. “Just go back to sleep.”
For the next hour she sat on the couch in the dark listening to the girls bicker. When at last they quit and were quiet, once more Evie allowed herself to nod off. When she woke again, it was after 3AM and her grandparents were just stepping into the house.
“You’ve got time,” her grandfather said. “The boys aren’t far away, if you’d like to join them for a while.”
“I would,” Evie said as she stood, but halfway to the door she was struck with an awful feeling that she could not understand. She was on her way out—she should’ve been feeling higher than the moon. But right then she found that her feet were suddenly anchored to the floor. Watching her grandmother move silently to the stairs, she then turned to face her grandfather. The sensation she got from both of them was as if they were both heavily weighed down by some invisible burden.
“Is something wrong?” she asked softly.
“You’re burning time,” her Papa Joe said with a forced smile.
“Papa,” she said. “There’s more going on than tension from having guests. I can feel it.”
“There is,” he admitted after some thought. “I suppose I should know better than try to hide it from you. But, I can assure you that, whatever issues we’re dealing with, they are not your problems.”
“These meetings, Papa ...”
“Meetings with us are a perfectly normal occurrence, I promise you. Go on out now. You’re missing a wonderfully crisp night.”
Evie stared at her grandfather until he lowered his eyes from hers. That simple gesture told her just how worried he was. He wasn’t himself. Not even close. From there he moved to the stairs without another word. She watched him until he was out of sight. Then, turning to the door, feeling almost sick with
worry, she slipped outside.
The cold air was wonderful as she threw off her robe. In a heartbeat she was the wolf, and in the next she was over the fence, on the grass, running at full speed in chase of David’s and Matthew’s scents. It had been a stressful day and a frustrating night. Things were bad for the pack, though she could not understand the full depths of their problems. What she knew for sure was that while the elders worried and met secretly regarding their burdens, the two jokers were out playing games, having fun at the expense of her unsuspecting friends. Whichever of them was guilty, she decided, was about to be very sorry.
***
“Here she comes,” David said.
“Look at her,” Matthew said. “She is hauling some serious A.”
After a moment David said, “She’s not slowing down.”
“Yeah, I’d say we’re in trouble. Get ready.”
Like a wild one bent on destruction, the Silver-white flew into their midst, snarling with rage and slashing at them in a startling frenzy. Both males outweighed her, but both had all they could handle just trying to avoid her snapping jaws. She was faster than both in her ability to spin and lunge and strike, and faster yet with her slashing fangs. They scattered to either side of her. Only when they had both completely submitted did she cease her attacks. She paced in a small circle, rumbling with fury as they lay on either side of her.
“What’s wrong with you?” were her first rational words. “Which one was it?”
“Easy, easy,” Matthew said. “It was just a joke, Red. A joke.”
“Not funny,” she roared as she lunged.
“Hey,” David growled, drawing her attention. He stood to his full height. “It was me. Don’t blame him. Take it out on me.”
Evie looked at him. Before she could proceed with her scolding, the scent of blood, followed by the sight of its crimson shine, captured her attention. One of her bites had gone beyond a warning. Lifting her eyes from the flowing wound on David’s shoulder to meet his eyes, she took a deep breath. Until that moment she hadn’t realized just how out of control she’d allowed herself to become. Slowly her growling subsided, replaced with whines of regret and concern.
Seasons of Wither (The Great North Woods Pack Book 3) Page 11
