by H B Lyne
'Hello,' Wind Talker replied and took a few steps closer. 'Bound-and-Chained-Lightning, are you all right?'
Stalker was taken aback by the concern in Wind Talker's voice and she smiled to herself.
'Who? Me?' The elemental lifted himself up more, looking at Wind Talker with wide eyes the colour of a tropical sea. 'I don't know. Am I?'
Wind Talker glanced back over his shoulder and gave a shrug to Eyes, clearly unsure how to proceed. Eyes moved up to stand next to him and looked thoughtfully at the elemental.
'Do you know what you are?' Eyes asked him.
'Lightning?' the elemental asked in a childlike voice. 'Electricity?'
He seemed to be confused. Stalker and Weaver moved closer. Stalker felt so sorry for him, he was caught in a confusing limbo state between the two forces that made him, with powers pulling him in two directions at once. She could relate.
'Can you tell me what I am?' he asked, his eyes almost seemed sad. He was hard to read.
'Power,' Stalker replied without thinking, looking into his deep blue eyes.
There was a sudden shimmer from the elemental, he shook all over and flexed from nose to tail. Everyone jumped back as sparks flew off him and scattered across the floor. He flared up bright white, filling the whole crystal cage with blinding light and Stalker covered her eyes and turned away.
The light dulled and she looked back at him. He had grown; his chains had tightened around him but were still intact.
'Thank you,' he said, his voice suddenly older and with more of a crackle to it. 'Things feel clearer now.'
Stalker grinned from ear to ear and looked back at her pack. They were smiling too.
'We're a new pack and need an ally. Are you willing to support us in establishing ourselves?' Eyes asked, stepping forward and speaking kindly but with an edge of authority.
'Yes. If you will free me,' the elemental replied.
'Consider it done,' Eyes said with a firm nod.
Stalker looked around at the crystalline cage and the chains that bound this beautiful fae to the ground. It was raw Hepethia, alien and incredible. Making one small hole in the wall had taken a great deal of focus and mental energy, to break Bound-and-Chained-Lightning free would be a massive effort. She grasped Weaver's hand and they exchanged determined glances.
'We'll need to all work together,' she said quietly.
'Can we change this?' Eyes asked, raising a sceptical eyebrow.
'I think so,' Stalker replied, trying to keep the doubt from her voice. She focused her thoughts on breaking the crystal chains that snaked around Bound-and-Chained-Lightning, willing the fae to be free from its bonds. The chains began to shimmer and shake and the fae within them flexed. A crackle of electricity issued from it and it suddenly glowed brighter. Stalker was distracted for a moment, in awe of the beauty of the fae before them, but she quickly refocused. The chains were trembling and clinking slightly, making strangely melodic sounds.
She felt Weaver's hand tighten on hers and a smile burst onto her lips; they were doing it. The chains began to creak and strain and suddenly a single link snapped, splintering into two pieces that scattered across the smooth floor. Another quickly followed and the fae rapidly expanded, free to move more than it ever had. With one last flex, the remaining chains snapped and Stalker reflexively shielded her face as the small pieces went flying in all directions.
Bound-and-Chained-Lightning soared into the air and seemed to explode into a thousand stars, scattering tiny sparks over the shifters below. Stalker squinted, shielding her eyes with her hand as she tried to watch the fae. The explosive flare died down and in place of the snake was a beautiful silver dragon flying in a figure of eight above them. He was a wingless, Chinese dragon, all rippling muscles and a bobbing head. He flickered constantly, like lightning behind clouds. Stalker drew a slow breath and looked around at the others.
'He's beautiful,' Weaver whispered.
'His name has changed,' Wind Talker said, his voice full of wonder. 'Unchained Lightning,' he added slowly.
'I love it,' Stalker said, a bright smile lighting her face.
'Unchained Lightning,' Eyes called out. The fae stopped circling and looked down at them. 'Will you honour our agreement and help us?'
'The honour is mine,' the fae replied, and he landed in front of them with a soft thud.
'Excellent,' Eyes said. 'Then let's begin.'
Chapter Eight
Fights-Eyes-Open
The pack arrived back at 32 Grove Street buzzing with adrenaline. They tumbled through the front door into the narrow hallway. Stalker was the first to stop laughing and chattering, going very still in the midst of their celebrations. Eyes noticed and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. She was sniffing the air and she took a small step down the hall away from him. He felt it then, the prickle on the back of his neck that told him something wasn't quite right.
The others fell quiet and Eyes watched as Stalker edged towards the kitchen, her hands lightly brushing the walls either side of her.
'What's happening?' Wind Talker whispered from the back.
'Something's wrong,' Eyes whispered back.
Stalker shifted into her fox form as she approached the kitchen door, and she sniffed carefully around the back of the house. Eyes followed her, glancing cautiously up the stairs as he passed them. He pointed up with a firm look back at Weaver and Wind Talker, and they obediently slipped quietly up the stairs to check the rest of the house.
Stalker was sniffing at the back door and she turned her head back to look at him with imploring eyes. Eyes went quickly to the back door and unlocked it, and they went out into the back garden.
Eyes looked carefully for physical signs of an intruder, but there were none.
'I'm crossing over,' he told Stalker. 'Do you want to join me?'
She nodded and the two of them crossed over into Hepethia. Unchained Lightning was there, curled up and taking up a good portion of the small garden. Eyes bowed to the fae, who looked up lazily before dropping his head again. He was clearly tired from his efforts in breaking free of his prison.
Stalker sniffed around the garden and then shifted form.
'Someone has been here, but the scent is really faint, I can't tell if I even know it, never mind who it is,' she confirmed what Eyes suspected.
'Unchained Lightning, mighty fae of power, have you sensed anyone else's presence since arriving here?'
The fae opened a sleepy eye and closed it again.
'No,' he rumbled, like far off thunder.
A quiver of the veil caught Eyes' attention and Wind Talker and Weaver stepped across to join them.
'What's going on? We found no sign of an intruder in the house,' Wind Talker said, striding over from the kitchen doorway.
'We're not sure,' Eyes replied. 'Someone has been here, but the scent is too faint to track or identify.'
'All I can tell is that it was a shifter,' Stalker said, frustration showing in her voice.
'That's fine,' Eyes tried to reassure her. 'No one expects you to have all of the answers all of the time. There seems to be nothing we can do about it right now, we will just have to be vigilant. There was nothing missing?' he asked, turning to Wind Talker.
'Not that I could see from a quick glance,' he replied. 'I can look more carefully though.'
'Yes please,' Eyes said swiftly.
Stalker shuffled her feet a little, looking down at them and Eyes was reminded of himself as an insolent teenager. He remembered that she still was a teenager. The realisation sent a painful pang through his heart. She was too young to have to deal with all of this. He cleared his throat, needing to move them all on from this unsettling discovery of an intruder. 'We have another important matter to discuss. We need a name.'
Weaver looked at him with her piercing blue eyes.
'We're not the Blue Moon any more? Are we?' she asked.
'No,' he replied. 'No we are not. That pack was destroyed. Theodore advised me to get out from
under their shadow and start fresh. I can't put my finger on why, but it feels like good advice.'
Wind Talker nodded, his face hard to read. Eyes didn't like that. He wished he understood his most enigmatic pack mate better.
'Do you have a suggestion for a new pack name?' Weaver asked him, a glint in her eye. She knew the answer. Had she already seen this moment or a future one in which the pack's name was evident? Eyes smiled and nodded.
'The Lightning Lords,' he said, looking firmly at their new ally. Unchained Lightning opened his eyes and lifted his dragon-like head.
'That pleases me,' he crackled.
'I like it,' Stalker said, smiling and nodding appraisingly.
'Me too,' Weaver chimed in.
Eyes looked to Wind Talker, who simply nodded his approval.
'That settles that then,' Eyes said, with a sigh of relief. His nerves were jangled from the discovery of the intruder, but settling the pack name so easily felt like a positive accomplishment.
Wind Talker set about preparing some food, the women chipped in to help and Eyes sat at the table listening to their lively chatter as if through an invisible wall. He had felt it ever since they agreed that he would lead them, a distance suddenly present between him and the others. It was as if he could no longer be their brother, now he was their father. He was responsible for them and had authority over them. It immediately created a gulf. Somehow Fortune had managed to bridge that gap in the Blue Moon, he had been father, brother and friend to all of them. He thought carefully about how Fortune had achieved such a complex relationship with such ease, and doubted whether he could ever replicate that.
Sadness crept in at the edges of his thoughts and for a brief moment, Eyes allowed the feeling to step forward. He allowed himself to feel the loss. He saw Fortune's smiling face before him, felt his arms around him in a fatherly embrace and heard the pride in his voice at his ear. Eyes knew he would never get that back, Fortune was gone.
That night, Eyes stayed at Grove Street with the pack. Having to go home to his family had been a major barrier to his integration into the pack and he knew he was going to have to work extremely hard to find the right balance.
The four of them settled down on the cushions in the living room in their animal forms and slept until dawn.
Eyes woke to the vibration of his phone nearby. He shifted form and looked with bleary eyes at the screen lit up in the near-dark of dawn. He didn't recognise the number. He stood gingerly, making sure not to step on any paws or tails as he moved into the kitchen to answer the call.
'Hello?'
'It's Scribe,' the young voice said quietly. 'Apologies for the early hour.'
'Not a problem,' Eyes said, perking up. 'How can I help you?'
'Last-Breath-Echoes and I have made arrangements to hold the funeral on Tuesday the fourth, just before midnight in Crescent Park. I hope you can all be there.'
'Of course, yes,' Eyes said hurriedly. 'Do we need to do or bring anything?'
'No, just yourselves,' Scribe said softly, an edge of sadness to his voice. 'I am so, so sorry for your loss.'
'Thank you,' Eyes replied, wearily rubbing his face with his hand.
The line went dead and Eyes put the phone down on the kitchen table. It was not quite 7am. There was no daylight yet and the house was still and quiet, but for the soft breathing of the three sleeping shifters in the next room.
Eyes took a deep breath, blowing out all of the tension and sadness that he was carrying. Enough, he told himself and set about making breakfast for his sleeping pack mates.
Chapter Nine
Stalker-of-Night's-Shadow
Stalker woke to the sound of sausages frying and the low rumble of voices in the other room. She stood up and shook out her fur, stretched her stiff legs and then shifted gracefully into her human self. Weaver was just waking up too, and the two of them moved into the kitchen together, arm in arm, without a word.
Eyes and Wind Talker stood at the counter making breakfast and talking quietly.
'Morning,' Stalker said sleepily. 'What time is it?'
'Just gone seven,' Eyes replied.
Stalker sighed. She had never been a morning person, though since her change it had been easier to survive on much less sleep. The last few nights her sleep had been restless and plagued by nightmares. Before the attack on the Blue Moon she had frequently dreamed of Rhys. Her thoughts went to the pained look in his eyes when she had stumbled away from him during their kiss. She had to try and make things right, she had to know if she still had a future with him.
She gratefully took a plate of bacon and sausages and lingered a moment next to Eyes as Wind Talker took two plates to the table for himself and Weaver.
'Eyes,' she said quietly. 'I need to do some damage control today. I was with someone the other night, when,' her words faltered. Eyes nodded in understanding and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
'Do what you need to do. We can manage here.'
'Thank you,' she whispered and gave him a small smile. They joined the others at the small table and she ate quietly, thinking of what she was going to say to Rhys when she saw him. Assuming he would agree to see her.
Stalker waited for the sun to rise, out of courtesy, before sending Rhys the message, though she supposed he would already be up and on his way to work. Normal human life seemed such a distant memory to her, she had almost forgotten that at this time of year people trudged out to work daily before the sun came up. She knew that she would need to return to work in the next few days, and decided to go and see her boss, Ron, later too.
Hi Rhys. I really hope you are well. I was hoping you would be able to see me today. Lunch? I really miss you and need to talk to you. Love A xx
She hit “send” and stared at her phone, waiting for the reply. The pack busied around her, tidying the breakfast things and making plans for the day. The next few minutes seemed to last an age, but finally her phone lit up with the reply.
Of course I can meet you. I am so glad you asked. I really need to see you and see that you're OK. Same place as last time?
She breathed a sigh of relief and was finally able to smile. It seemed a lifetime since she had managed a real smile. She replied confirming their plans.
Stalker had a shower and changed her clothes, and anxiously waited to leave the house. Around her the pack buzzed like worker bees, though she did not know what they were doing. She couldn't think about anything other than Rhys and the nervous knot in her stomach.
At last she stood to go and headed for the door. Wind Talker nearly bumped into her in the hall and she fumbled an awkward apology.
'Are you heading out?' he asked.
'Yes, I'm heading for the bus stop on the high street,' she replied.
'I'll go with you, I'm going that way myself.'
Stalker smiled and let him lead the way. She felt immensely private about Rhys, he was something from her old life and she felt instinctively that she needed to keep him separate from all of this. Somehow, letting her pack know about him felt like dragging him into their business. She supposed it was the same for all of them. None of them talked about their human friends or families. Even Eyes was very private about his wife and daughter.
Stalker and Wind Talker walked briskly through the biting cold to the main street a few blocks from their little terraced house. The traffic was heavy and the pavement was busy with people dashing about their business.
The two shifters strode purposefully towards the row of bus stops just down the street. People looked anxiously at them and gave them a wide berth. Stalker still wasn't used to the intimidating presence that she had. When she was on her own it wasn't too bad, but the more shifters you put together the stronger the effect.
She briefly wondered what a human would feel if confronted with the entire assembly of Odin's Warriors, her second shifter family. They were all fearsome warriors who had dedicated themselves to Odin, the god of war. There were over a dozen Berserkers in Caerton, and the
gatherings she had attended before the disastrous attack on the Blue Moon had been somewhat lively affairs involving ritual combat and tattooing, as well as heavy drinking.
Stalker's hand went instinctively to the fresh tattoo on the back of her neck, though thanks to her rapid healing you wouldn't know that it was only a few days old. It was the rune that marked her as one of Odin's Warriors.
'This is my stop,' Wind Talker said, suddenly breaking the easy silence between them. Stalker looked up and noticed that buses from this stop went north, to the docks.
'Where are you going?' It suddenly occurred to her to ask.
'To see the Storm Riders,' he said quietly, glancing around at the passing people. 'How about you?'
'Oh, just into town to see a friend,' Stalker said, keeping it vague. 'I'll see you later.'
Wind Talker nodded and Stalker went on her way to her bus stop.
She did as Fortune had instructed when she first changed and was sure to disembark the bus before entering Burnside, the territory claimed by the Glass Wolves. She walked from the edge of Chinatown south into the unclaimed city centre and made her way through the bustling streets to the café near the Central School of Martial Arts, where Rhys worked.
When Stalker walked into the café she felt a little prickle all over her body as she sensed him, he was already there, standing at the counter ordering something. She took a few steps towards him and she saw the moment he sensed her too. His head jerked and he looked around to locate her. The relief in his face was unmistakable and she closed the gap between them in seconds. He took her in his arms, holding her head against his chest and kissed the top of it.
'Thank God,' he whispered against her hair. 'I'm glad you're OK.'
'I'm fine,' she whispered back. It wasn't totally true, she wasn't fine, she wasn't going to be fine for a long time. But she was surviving.
The barista behind the counter cleared her throat and Stalker let go of Rhys so that he could pay for their coffees.
'Let's sit down with these and we can order food in a minute. Is that OK?' he asked. Stalker nodded and turned to find a table.
