by S. A. Swann
“No, I was being mean.”
She felt his hand on her shoulder and shuddered.
Change now, sink our teeth into his neck. Tear his stupid head from his stupid body.
She turned around, and Uldolf held up another piece of the wonderful-smelling cube. “Here, you can have my half.”
He shoved it into her hand before she could reach out and take it. She looked down at it. Nothing made sense to her. She had just thrown his gift back at him. He should be taking a metal rod and whipping her across the back and legs, at the very least.
“It smells so wonderful,” she whispered.
“It does stink, doesn't it?”
She blinked so she could focus on the object in her palm. “What is it?”
“Now I know you're tricking me!”
“No.” She looked up at him. “Please, tell me.”
“You say you don't know what cheese is?”
Lilly shook her head.
Uldolf frowned. “So what do you eat?”
Lilly didn't know what that had to do with anything, but she didn't see any harm in answering. “I eat meat.”
Lilly thought of the elk calf that she had killed two nights ago. She'd hung the carcass in a tree, and even after two days it still had a good section of the haunches left. She thought of the red flesh and the rusty smell of the calf s entrails, and her mouth watered. She was hungry. Now she wanted to get rid of Uldolf so she could go back to her kill.
“Only meat? And I bet your father is duke of Mazovia.”
“No,” Lilly said. “I don't know who my father is.”
“Oh.”
“What else would I eat?”
“Well, cheese, of course.”
She looked at her palm.
“You really haven't eaten cheese before?”
“No.” She lifted the crumbling object to her lips and took a bite. It melted into her mouth with a flavor unlike anything she had ever tasted. That wonderful smell turned velvet and wrapped her tongue.
How could someone just give her this?
“I'd better go,” he said.
Her eyes snapped open. “What? You just got here.”
“Well, it took me a while to find you. They'll be expecting me home soon. It's late.”
“Oh.”
“I can come back if you want. You'll be here?”
“Yes.” Why did I say that? I'm supposed to stay hidden. “Please, don't tell anyone I'm here.”
“No, I don't want to get into trouble.” He walked back to the log and picked up the other object. “Here, you can have the bread, too.” He tossed it to her. It was all she could do to grab it before it tumbled to the ground. “You know about bread, don't you?”
“Y-yes,” she lied.
He picked up the cloth that had made up his bundle and waved at her. “Good-bye.”
She watched him disappear into the woods before she bit into the “bread” he had given her. At first she thought it was some sort of trick, but then she realized that it was like a thick bone she had to break to get at the spongy contents. Inside, it was almost as good as the cheese.
***
Lilly knew it was wrong, but throughout that night she thought more of the boy Uldolf than she did of her master's wishes.
She built up elaborate excuses for herself. Her master had told her that there was to be no killing before it was time, so she really shouldn't have killed him. Her master had also said that she wasn't to be seen by anyone in the village, but Uldolf wasn't in the village when he came to her.
Uldolf had been right, she was stupid. She should have killed him. Everything her master told her was for the purpose of keeping the village from knowing she was here.
She crouched in front of her kill, tearing large strips of flesh free from the leg of the calf, her muzzle sticky with old blood as she devoured the slick length of muscle. Around her, the moonlight-dappled woods were silent except for the sound of her own chewing. Even with the air rank with elk blood, she could tell that most of the animals had given her and her meal a wide berth.
If Uldolf came to her now, there wouldn't be a choice, would there? She had shown her real face to enough people, pagan and Christian, to smell the fear she caused. Even in her master.
Would he give you cheese now?
Lilly stopped eating, because she didn't like the way that thought made her feel. The other's voice was becoming more and more forceful lately, cold and angry. She didn't understand why, after leaving the horror of her
first master. She crouched and lifted the remains of the elk, climbing up and dragging the remains after her into the tree.
She dropped to the ground, and spent a few long moments licking the blood off her fur. She needed to be as clean as possible before she retrieved her carefully folded clothes from the rock where she had placed them before she ate.
“He doesn't know, does he?” she whispered, staring at her hairy forelimb and the clawed hand she'd been cleaning.
That was it, of course. That realization was what allowed her to be true to her master. Uldolf didn't know she wasn't human. Uldolf had seen nothing of fur, fang, or claw. What could he tell the villagers in Mejdân? Only that he met a girl in the woods who knew nothing of cheese.
Even better, now that she thought about it, she really shouldn't kill Uldolf. After all, a dead boy would certainly be more alarming to the people of Mejdân than anything Uldolf might say. Lilly looked up at the night sky through the leaves, and smiled as much as her lupine muzzle allowed.
***
He isn't coming.
Lilly tried to push the thought away even before she knew whose thought it was. The echo of it kept taunting her as she sat on the black, moss-covered log overlooking Mejdân. She had come here in the early dawn, after waking. She had actually run here, afraid he might come before she arrived.
And here she was, and the sun kept creeping higher in the sky.
For some reason, she remembered the man who had sung to Rose in the monastery, and how severely her old master had corrected him.
Could her old master have found Uldolf?
If you care, her other voice told her, you only hurt yourself.
“I don't care,” she whispered, wiping her eyes.
Lilly tried to think of the pagans of Mejdân and what she would do to them. How she would bring the vengeance of God down upon them, and how pleased her master would be.
“Hello, Lilly.”
She spun around. “Uldolf?”
There he was, wearing the same clothes, carrying the same bundle over his shoulder. “Were you waiting for me?”
“N-no. Not long.”
He smiled. “I'm glad I found you.”
Lilly stood up, brushing leaves from her clothes. Then she noticed that she had blood under her nails, so she hid her hands behind her back. “Why?”
Uldolf shrugged. “I don't have many friends. My dad's the chief, so they don't like playing with me.”
Lilly didn't understand what he was saying. She knew the words friend, chief, and play, but she couldn't interpret Uldolf s sentence in any way that made sense to her. She didn't want him to call her stupid again, so she just repeated the words back at him.
“They don't like playing with you?”
“Well, my dad bosses around their dads, and they think I want to boss them around. If I tell them I want to do something, everyone will want to do something different. I end up alone a lot.”
The last bit Lilly understood. “I'm alone a lot, too.”
“Hey, want me to show you something fun?”
Lilly hesitated a moment, then said, “Yes, show me.”
***
They stood in the middle of a shallow creek bed, cool water bubbling over their ankles. The creek ran along the floor of a ravine whose walls receded ahead, the creek branching at the base of an ancient moss-covered oak whose limbs stretched an emerald canopy over a hidden pool. The pool reflected shards of blue and green so intense that it hurt her e
yes. The air was alive with the sound of rushing water, chirping frogs, and singing birds. She smelled the earthy moss, blooming plants, and over it all the coolness of the water.
For several moments, all Lilly could do was stare.
“You like it?” Uldolf asked.
“It's beautiful.”
Uldolf walked up to the oak and leaned against a giant boulder next to it, as tall as he was. “I love this place.”
To her surprise, Uldolf set his bundle on top of the boulder, barely within reach, then scrambled up the side of the rock. He stood up on top of it and grabbed one of the lower branches with both hands. Then he swung his legs and pulled himself up.
“What are you doing?”
“This tree is great for climbing,” he said as he started scrambling up, branch by branch.
Lilly thought of the tree where the elk hung.
He knows. He's taunting you.
“Come back down.”
“You come up.”
“What?”
“Come on up here.”
Lilly balled her hands into fists. “What if I don't want to?”
“I told you I was going to show you something fun.” Uldolf looked down from a dizzying height. “You aren't scared, are you?”
If you pounce and dig the claws in ...
Lilly shook her head. Uldolf still had no idea what she was, and as long as he didn't, she wouldn't have to kill him. She looked up and said, “I'm not scared.” The way her voice shook made her a liar. “But how did you get up there?”
She almost added, “Without any claws?”
“Just climb up the rock. There's a good foothold about halfway up.”
As she approached the rock, Lilly tried to remember what Uldolf had done. Things like this were so much easier when she was in her real form.
She had never thought of attempting anything like it in this weak little body. How could her pink clawless fingers pull her up a tree?
The first few moments were embarrassing, her feet slipping all over the base of the rock. She was tensed, ready for Uldolf to call her stupid again.
“You can do it,” Uldolf called down to her. It sounded as if he actually believed it.
“Come on,” she whispered. “Why should the furry one get all the fun?”
“What?” Uldolf called down.
Lilly didn't answer. She felt around until her fingers found a good grip on the bumpy top surface of the boulder. She surprised herself with how easily she could pull herself on top of the rock.
On her knees, on top of the boulder, she looked at her fleshy pink hands and said, “Maybe they're not so useless.”
“That was great,” Uldolf called down to her. “Now just pull yourself up on that branch.”
Lilly looked up at the knobby limb reaching over her head and smiled.
She leapt at the branch as if she was a wolf. But, instead of trying to dig nonexistent claws into it, she wrapped her arms around it and swung her leg up over it. In a moment, she sat straddling the branch.
She exhaled and laughed. “See? I don't need claws to do it.”
From above her, Uldolf called down, “That was great!”
She looked up at him, flushed, breathing heavy, suddenly afraid he would ask something uncomfortable about claws. But apparently he hadn't heard her.
“Come on up.” He motioned her up to the branch where he was sitting, above the water. It suddenly didn't seem that far. She leapt up and grabbed the branch above her and swung around. Then she did it again. She was laughing louder with each jump.
All her masters, all her keepers, always talked about what the furry one could do. That was what made her special, worthy of attention. That was the part she had to hide, that was the part that could do things—awesome, bloody, violent things. No one had told her that this body, the form she shared with Christian and pagan, was capable of anything—and certainly not this.
She dangled from a branch, allowing her legs to sweep through empty air. Her heart raced as the trees rocked back and forth around her, the ground so far below. If she let go, it seemed that she might fall forever.
“Hey, Lilly. Down here!”
She looked down and saw Uldolf looking up at her. She had become so involved in climbing that she had crawled nearly twice again as high as he was. He grinned up at her.
She dangled and looked down at him. Maybe it wasn't a trick. Maybe he was a friend. She let go and fell to a lower limb, then jumped down twice more to get to Uldolf s branch.
“Wow, I never saw anyone climb that well!”
Lilly caught her breath and said, “Really?”
“I never had the guts to go all the way up there.” He looked up at the branch where Lilly had been dangling.
“See?” Lilly said. “I'm not afraid.” She was no longer lying.
“Great. Then let me show you the best part.” He stood up, grabbing a higher branch for balance. After steadying himself, he let go and pulled his linen shirt off over his head. He tied it up into a ball and tossed it back down toward the boulder. He did the same thing with his shoes. Then he started taking off his breeches.
“Wait—what are you doing?” Lilly thought of carefully removing her own clothes before she changed. Could he be like her?
Uldolf tossed the rest of his clothes down so that they fell on the ground by the boulder. Naked, he said, “I don't want to get my clothes wet.”
He walked carefully out along the branch. Then he jumped.
“Wahoo!” he shouted as he hit the pool below with a cataclysmic splash. Lilly stared at the rippling water until Uldolf s head poked up. He stared up at her. “Come on!”
She looked down at the pool and felt her heart racing, but she was not going to act afraid, not in front of Uldolf. It was still fresh in her mind how it felt when he had told her that she climbed well.
If she could do that, she could do this.
She stripped her clothes and tossed them down by Uldolf s. As she did so, it occurred to her how important they had seemed yesterday—real clothes, a sign of her master's approval. How was it that this boy's approval had become more important?
The breeze touched her bare skin, and she felt herself break into gooseflesh. She wanted to change, to grow fur against the chill up here—but it was exhilarating in a way she had never felt as a wolf.
She edged to the spot where Uldolf had jumped and she looked out over the water. It shimmered below her, reflecting green and blue. Uldolf floated off to the side, looking up at her and grinning.
She was actually going to do this.
Lilly jumped.
The air tore by her fast, sliding by her skin and whipping her hair up in a halo around her head. She fell feet first, the water's surface racing up at her faster than she expected.
Then the water sucked her into a frigid embrace that turned her skin into ice. She gasped and sucked in a mouthful of water. Her body suddenly wanted air, and she had no idea where the surface was. Panic raged through her, and she could feel her body start to react, the bones beginning to crack and lengthen, the muscles tightening and swelling across her back, through her arms, her thighs, the jaw growing, the teeth.
He fooled us. He has to die!
Even disoriented, body screaming for air in the frigid dark, she found the strength to scream, “No!”
The words were nothing in this fluid hell, just more bubbles. But her body listened to her, muscles loosening, bones retracting into their human shape. The effort resisting the change was exhausting, and she felt herself sinking.
Something grabbed her under the arms. In a second, her head broke the surface, and she choked and sputtered and tried to suck in mouthfuls of air all at the same time. Uldolf held her, and even in the water, she could smell his fear.
“Are you all right?”
Lilly blinked, realized that she was all right, and turned around, tears in her eyes. “That was supposed to be fun?” She pulled herself away from him, and suddenly felt herself sinking again.<
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“No!” She grabbed for the only support within reach, throwing her arms around Uldolf. They both went under briefly, but Uldolf somehow managed to pull them back to the surface.
“I'm afraid,” Lilly whispered.
“I'm sorry,” Uldolf said. “Why didn't you tell me you couldn't swim?”
“Swim?” Lilly asked.
***
Uldolf spent a good part of the day teaching her to swim. By midafternoon, she gathered the courage to climb up and try jumping in again. This time she didn't panic, and managed to keep her bearings, kicking her way to the surface. She burst through the surface, laughing and shaking the water from her hair.
When Uldolf told her, “You learn fast, don't you?” her face burned with pride and she could barely whisper a “thank you.”
Eventually, Uldolf looked at the sky and said, “I have to go home soon.” He swam to the edge of the pool, where the floor was shallow enough for him to walk onto shore.
Lilly followed him, dripping, as he walked toward the boulder. “Do you have to go?”
He looked over his shoulder, saw her standing behind him, and his face flushed. “Yes.” He looked away. “I'll be in trouble if I don't go back with the other kids. I have a way to walk to get to those stupid cows.” He reached up and squeezed water out of his hair. “And it'll take me a while to dry off.”
Even in the warm afternoon air, Lilly hugged herself and shivered a little. He sat down at the base of the boulder, drawing his knees up to his chin.
Lilly sat down next to him, imitating the way he sat.
“I wish you could stay,” she whispered.
“You have no idea how my dad would beat me if he thought I was running off on my own.”
Lilly nodded. “Yes, I do. My master ...”
“Hey, you could come back with me ...”
Lilly shook her head. “I would get in trouble if I did that.”
“Oh.” Uldolf paused a moment. “I'm not going to get you in trouble here, am I?”
Lilly looked over at him, and Uldolf stared at her with such concern that she almost cried. “No,” she said. “If my master finds out, I think I can explain it so he'd understand.”
