SHIVER

by Tiffinie Helmer

  He stood, gaze cast downward. “Yes, Mom.” He left, trailing his backpack behind him.

  She picked up a wooden wedge, twisting it between her fingers. And here she had always thought she’d been an observant mother. What else had she missed?

  Aidan heaved the mattress back onto the bed. It flopped like a dead fish. Who was he kidding? He couldn’t sleep here, not until he had the place cleaned up. He’d disposed of the dead raven in the stove, but there wasn’t any wood to burn. Since his father hadn’t returned this summer, he hadn’t chopped the cords of wood waiting outside. Aidan was in no condition to be stomping around in the trap-infested yard with a walking boot chopping wood. He looked around at the sad bedroom that used to be his. It had been left pretty much the same. A corkboard full of school accomplishments. Art awards that his dad hadn’t cared a fart for. Amateur drawings of totems that had been the spark for his graphic novels, hockey sticks stood forgotten in the corner along with his skates. Dried stalks of fireweed he’d hung as a remembrance of the first time he and Raven had made love. They were dry and dusty and broken. He couldn’t help but see the comparison.

  He rubbed his hands together. It was getting colder. The sun had set and he needed heat.

  Raven was right. He wasn’t ready to stay here tonight. But how did he get back? He had the keys to the rental, but his right foot was also in a boot. It wasn’t a cast—he could take it off. He’d done that in order to shower this morning. But driving was different.

  He had two choices, stay and suffer through what would was bound to be a miserable, cold night bundled in dirty blankets, or return to the lodge. The lodge won out. Tomorrow he’d return better prepared.

  He grabbed the map Fox had drawn from his coat pocket and smoothed it out. The kid was talented. Raven needed to help him develop it. Aidan knew she would encourage him, which was more than he had ever had as a boy.

  Using a small flashlight, he locked up the cabin and navigated the tricky path toward his SUV. There was no breeze. The area was devoid of sound, other than his footsteps crunching in the snow and his breathing. Off to the right he caught a flash of light. Two small pinpoints. He came to a full stop, his heart pounding.

  A black wolf stood observing him—just outside of Earl’s property—his yellow eyes shining in the moonlight. Aidan swallowed. The wolf was beautiful, dangerous, wild. And he scared the shit out of him. He’d left the guns inside the cabin. The wolf could be on him before he hobbled back to safety. He was midway between the back door of the cabin and the SUV.

  Neither of them moved.

  Was this Alaska’s version of a standoff? One of them had to make a move. Aidan took a step, the wolf watched. He took another step. Other than the wolf’s eyes following each move he made, the animal didn’t shift. Just watched. It was eerie, unnerving.

  And freaking cool.

  He began to relax, his heart still beat at an alarming rate, but his shaking had lessened. Somewhat. He reached the SUV and still the wolf stayed. He climbed in—breathing a sigh of relief when he locked himself inside—and started the engine. It coughed, and died. “You got to be kidding.” He couldn’t make the trip back to the cabin with the wolf out there. Chances were the predator wouldn’t spare him a second time. That was asking too much. Staying in the SUV too long and he’d freeze. He cranked over the engine again. It flared to life.

  The wolf stood there, watching. A peculiar trickle slid down Aidan’s spine. He wasn’t scared—wary, yes—but he didn’t feel fear anymore. Not that he wanted to get out and pet the wild animal. It was hard to explain, but he felt as though he and the wolf could be…amicable. Now that was weird. He needed to grab his notebook and write this down. Excitement spread through him. Maybe he hadn’t lost it. Maybe he could lose himself in his story again. Maybe…

  First he needed to get his sorry ass out of here. Or he wouldn’t have any maybes. Carefully he unstrapped the Velcro on the boot, releasing his leg from the brace. He tried some pressure on the brake. It hurt, but he could bear it. Sure as hell beat sleeping in the cabin with a wolf prowling around outside. He put the SUV in gear and backed it out of Earl’s makeshift driveway. Heading back toward Chatanika, he glanced in the rearview mirror to see the yellow eyes of the wolf.

  Watching.

  Aidan walked into the kitchen and found Fiona, Coho, Chickadee, Eva, and Lynx around the table eating dinner.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “Nonsense,” Coho said. “Have a seat. You must be hungry.”

  Yes, he was, but he didn’t want to sit where he so did not belong.

  “I’m sure he has things to do,” Lynx said with a glare.

  Eva elbowed him in the chest. “Don’t be rude. Besides I want to find out what Doc Jaskoski said today. Sit, Aidan.” She said the words much the way a general in the army would.

  Aidan was too afraid of Eva to disobey a direct order so he sat. Fiona rose and grabbed another plate, filling it with generous helpings of caribou steak, red potatoes, green beans, topping it off with two homemade sourdough biscuits. “This looks great. Thank you, Fiona.”

  “You’re very welcome, my boy. Now eat up, you need your strength.”

  “What’d Doc say?” Eva asked, spearing green beans with her fork. “Is it broken?”

  “Hairline fracture, which is why he put me in the boot.”

  “You’re lucky,” Eva said. “I’ve seen nasty accidents like yours where the bone split through the skin.”

  “Hey.” Lynx grimaced. “I’m eating here.”

  “Buck up,” Eva returned. “You married a nurse. There’s bound to be blood talk at the table.” She turned back to Aidan. “Anything else?”

  “Nothing other than praise for you.”

  Eva smiled, giving her an adorable look that would fool anyone into believing she was as sweet as cotton candy. “Ah, that’s nice to hear.”

  Aidan cut into his steak and took a bite. He hadn’t eaten lunch since he had been busy cleaning up Earl’s place. Not that he’d gotten far. “This is wonderful, Fiona,” he said, chewing a piece while he cut another.

  Fiona beamed.

  “Yes, Mom, dinner is great.” Lynx wasn’t going to let Aidan show him up.

  “Mr. Harte?” Chickadee asked. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “As long as you call me Aidan.” He smiled when she blushed. She looked a lot like Raven had at that age, and he couldn’t help being charmed by her.

  “Fox leant me your graphic novels, which I love by the way. But I have to know, are you bringing Senyea back from the dead?”

  He’d been plagued with fan mail since the last novel came out when he had sacrificed her. From pleas, to coercion, to threats. The most serious threat had come from his editor. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  “No. Please tell me. Don’t make me wait. I won’t tell anyone, promise.”

  “To tell you the truth. I don’t know. I haven’t written it yet.” Aidan took another bite and chewed.

  She gasped. “What do you mean you don’t know? They’re your characters.”

  “I know, but they haven’t told me yet.” They hadn’t even started talking to him until he’d seen that wolf tonight. His fingers itched to grab a pencil.

  “Isn’t that a little weird?” Chickadee asked.

  “Dee,” Fiona scolded.

  “Look at the source,” Lynx said, grunting as he received another elbow to the gut from Eva.

  “What happened to your manners?” Eva asked Lynx with a scowl. “Besides, I think this is really cool. Aidan, how do the characters come to you?”

  “Uhm…” He really didn’t talk about this. He didn’t do interviews, do any blogging, or attend writers’ conferences. Which had actually played in his favor. Gave him a mystique. Nobody even knew what he looked like. Guess he’d chosen to live off the grid too, just like his father. That was sobering. “Uhm, they just talk to me. I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “It is the way of the stor
yteller,” Coho said, who had been quietly eating. “The Great Spirit speaks, and you are the vessel gifted to tell the tale.”

  “Well, I haven’t read them, yet, but they sound fascinating,” Eva said. “Dee, when you’re done, can I take a look?” She received a frown from Lynx that she ignored.

  “Sure. But talk to Fox, he has them all if you want to start at the beginning.” Chickadee looked at Fiona. “Can I be excused? I had plans to Skype with a friend.”

  Fiona regarded her. “A boy?”

  Chickadee bit her lip. “Uh-huh.”

  “Who?”

  “Just a guy, Mom. He lives in Fairbanks. Don’t worry, we go to school together and it isn’t like we can get into any trouble online.”

  “Remember that I monitor your computer.”

  “I’m not about to forget.” Chickadee rolled her eyes.

  “Load your dishes in the dishwasher then,” Fiona said. “I’ll be up to check on you later.”

  Chickadee said goodbye to everyone and flew out of the room.

  Aidan figured this was a good time to let the adults know what had been going on at Earl’s place. “Someone broke into Earl’s cabin, looking for something.”

  Lynx snorted. “The man’s dead and people want to cause him grief. Shows you what kind of life he led. Karma’s still trying to catch up.”

  “I just thought you should know. It doesn’t look like they found whatever they were looking for, so they might be back. Wouldn’t hurt to get the word out. If the person is here in Chatanika, he’ll know we’re watching. If someone new is about, we’ll hear about it through the network.”

  “Good idea,” Fiona said. “I’ll inform Pike. He’ll get the word out.”

  “And have us all packin’ too.” Lynx snorted.

  “What’s with you?” Eva asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The snide comments, the insults. Ever since Aidan showed up, you have been ornery as a bear with an empty stomach. I don’t like it.”

  “Then make him leave.” Lynx pointed to Aidan,

  “No. He has work to do here. Important work. I don’t care how much everyone in this town hated Earl Harte, the man was still his father.” Eva rose ungracefully from the table, her hand caressing her swollen belly. “If all the stories are true about Harte, Aidan needs our sympathy.”

  “I don’t want it,” Aidan interjected, getting a scowl from Eva for his troubles.

  “Too bad. To grow up with a father like you had and to become the man I’ve gotten to know is impressive.” She turned to Lynx. “Get over whatever it is you have against him. I like him.” With that, she waddled out of the room.

  Coho chuckled. “You married yourself a wolverine, Lynx. She’s right.” Coho wiped her mouth with her napkin and gracefully set it beside her plate. “Make nice, Grandson.” With a final look she rose and regally left the room.

  Silence followed in her wake. Fiona stood and gathered up Eva’s and Coho’s plates along with her own.

  “Fiona, do you mind if I stay the night?” Aidan asked.

  “Your room is still your room.” She gave him a warm smile. “I was hoping you would be back.” She took the dishes to the dishwasher and then addressed Lynx and Aidan, “Looks as though you two could use some time to talk.” She gave both of them a pointed look and left them alone.

  Aidan had no expectations where Lynx was concerned. So he concentrated on finishing the food on his plate. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten this good.

  “Well, shit.” Lynx pushed his plate forward and folded his arms, leaning heavily on the table. “I’m going to have to make peace with you.”

  Aidan glanced up from cutting the last of his steak. “Afraid of the little woman?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re smarter than you look.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “Not the best way to make peace.” Aidan found he was enjoying himself. He scooped up the last sourdough biscuit and wiped his plate clean with it, soaking up all the leftover juices. “I don’t expect you to make peace with me. You have a right to feel what you do.”

  “Yeah, but Gran and Eva have a point,” he grumbled.

  Aidan paused with the biscuit halfway to his mouth. “Huh?”

  Lynx looked around the kitchen huffing out a heavy sigh before he spoke again. “You were just a kid. What does a kid know? And you were a stupid kid.”

  Aidan dropped the biscuit to his plate. What was Lynx saying? “Yeah, but you were no scholar, either, if I remember.”

  “I could still whip your ass.”

  “Might have a harder time of it now.”

  Lynx sized him up and scoffed. “You’re no competition.”

  “I might surprise you.” After getting his ass kicked most of his life, he now held a black belt in Jujitsu.

  Lynx snorted, but the sound seemed less sarcastic than earlier. “Right, that’ll be the day.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Aidan gave up on sleep, sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. Anticipation skipped in his blood, his breathing choppy, as he tried to hold the strings of his imagination together before he lost them. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a notepad that rested next to the phone along with a pen. He couldn’t write fast enough. Words and images hit like punches, painful and powerful, left and right, until the small pad was crammed full. With haste, he shot out of bed, rummaged through the room until frustration had him pulling at his hair. He needed paper before his characters stopped talking. He had to catch every word battering around in his head before they went silent again.

  Quietly, he snuck out of his room and headed to the main area of the lodge, searching tabletops, opening drawers of end tables, the cabinet that held a TV, until he found the small desk in the corner. Inside the top drawer was a notebook—and bless Fiona—pencils. Now he could draw.

  The lodge spun away.

  Chatanika was gone in an instant as he entered the world of The Spirit Totems where the souls who embodied the power of the totems fought against death and darkness. Darkness that was ever stealing over the Great Land allowing death the chance to roam like a disease.

  In this world, he was the hero. Fighting evil, saving lives—instead of taking them—and he was loved and respected by friends and family. In this magical and dangerous place the wolf joined with the other formidable defenders who embodied the powers of the totem. The bear: the guardian with the power to heal, courageous, introspective with great strength, but also an angry disposition when riled. The eagle: a creature with a divine spirit, wise in the ways of the creator, and a risk-taker. The Orca: bright and playful, intelligent and sly. The beaver: industrious, instinctive, a watcher. And the wolf: perseverant, loyal, intuitive, able to balance the spirit of freedom with a strong sense of family.

  Aidan found himself adding in a new character, grinning as the face of a fox took shape. A cunning, clever creature with shape-shifting abilities. He couldn’t help but give the character Fox’s inquisitive eyes. He drew until the early hours of the morning. Until he came to a plot point where he brought in the raven—a character he had always purposely avoided. He’d even been called to task by fans who knew that the raven was a formidable part of the totem. He’d never been able to bring himself to add her, knowing perfectly well why he hadn’t. Now he found himself unable to keep her out. This woman had raven hair down to her hips, almond-shaped eyes, a wide, seductive mouth. She was full of courage, cunning, wisdom, and magic.

  Morning dawned dark and sleepy. Visiting with his friends again was a gift he didn’t think he’d get back since the troubled events of the summer. It clenched his heart, made him shake. He was afraid to get too excited. He’d truly thought he’d lost this, but as the words and images gushed out of him, he silently rejoiced.

  “Whatcha doing?”

  Aidan jumped, his pencil flying out of his hand, clattering to the floor. Fox stood behind him, just over his shoulder.

  “Where the hell d
id you come from?” He hoped his heart would return to normal. The kid was sneaky.

  “Home. Uncle Pike lets me have leftover meat for my dogs. I came up to fetch it.” Fox tilted his head to the side, looking at Aidan’s drawings. “Are these—”

  “Nothing.” Aidan grabbed the pages and stacked them together. He didn’t let anyone see his work before it was finished.

  Fox’s face shuddered with hurt and disappointment. “I didn’t mean to pry. But…I just love your stories.”

  Aidan studied Fox. There was nothing in his expression except curiosity and maybe the fear of rejection. “Uhm…” He was crazy to be thinking this. His editor would kill him if he…

  Don’t over analyze it, Harte. “Fox, I don’t usually do this. Hel—heck.” He needed to remember he was talking to a kid here and watch his language. “I don’t ever do this, but would you let me know what you think?” He offered the papers, his hand shaking.

  “Seriously?” Fox’s eyes lit up as he held his breath.

  “Yeah, and don’t sugarcoat it. If it sucks, I want to know.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep.”

  Fox took the papers like Aidan was handing him the Holy Grail. He took a seat on the couch. Aidan stood, stretched. How long had he been sitting here? He reached his arms above his head and arched from side to side while trying to forget that he’d just turned over his baby to an eleven-year-old for his opinion. Yeah, he’d lost it.

  Fox frowned, his brows knitting together just like his mother’s, and flipped the page.

  Aidan rubbed his hands over his face. He couldn’t watch this. He limped toward the kitchen. A cup of coffee—a pot of coffee—would do him a world of good. Maybe a muffin, if he could rustle one up.

  Fiona was already there, yawning as she mixed batter in a bowl. “Morning, Aidan. Want some pancakes?”