Otherkin

by Nina Berry

  “I’ll check them down here,” I said, shuffling past Siku. “We can meet in the middle.”

  He grunted, and the bushes trembled as he searched them. I ran my hands first over the top. Then I jiggled the branches in the middle, before feeling around the base, pushing aside sticks, rocks, and crumpled leaves.

  November made a gagging noise. “Nothing over here, and if I touch another worm I’m going to throw up.”

  “What if it’s not at a landmark?” said Caleb. “It might be somewhere random.”

  “You mean, like the center of the glade or something?” Arnaldo’s voice moved with his steps. “Maybe if we all just wander around, pushing aside leaves . . .”

  “Sounds like fun,” said November.

  Crunching noises took over the clearing as we began shuffling our feet through the fallen leaves, feeling for anything that didn’t belong on the ground. The leaves were very dry, and the crackling became epic, blending into what sounded like a gale force wind harassing a forest.

  Something brushed my arm. As I whirled, I heard a sharp intake of breath and felt the warmth of a body near me. Caleb. I would have recognized his scent and the sound of his breathing anywhere. I felt his hand warm on my arm, pulling me up against him before I could protest. Something brushed the blindfold over my eyes, and the silk of his blindfold slid against my skin as his lips touched mine. My heart contracted, and I responded until my brain kicked in and I pushed against his chest.

  “Of all the things I’ve stolen,” he said, low and intimate, “I think that kiss was my favorite.”

  “What do you want from me?” I was still shoving against him, but not with very much strength. His arms were encircling my waist, and a delicious warmth was taking me over.

  “I want just a moment with you,” he murmured. “Just one.” And kissed me again.

  Something deep inside me opened up. As if in a dream, I wound my arms around his neck. The world melted into a single point of fire. I lost track of everything except the pressure of his arms; his soft, urgent lips; and the storm of snapping and popping as our oblivious friends romped in the dead leaves around us.

  Behind us, Siku grunted out, “Ha.” His large body hit the ground and made a noise as if he were rolling full length in the leaves.

  I couldn’t help laughing, my lips still against Caleb’s. He joined in. In that moment I was completely happy.

  “Found it!” shouted London. “I got the book!”

  Time to take off the blindfolds. I stepped away from Caleb and reached up to remove the piece of cloth covering my eyes. But Caleb slid his hand over mine and said loudly, “Wait! As soon as we take the blindfolds off, whoever has the book has to hand it to Morfael and get the credit.”

  “I don’t remember that being the rule,” Arnaldo said, sounding befuddled.

  “So let’s decide who gets the credit before we take them off.” Caleb pulled me close and kissed my neck.

  “The game ends when the blindfolds come off, right?” I said so that all could hear. “We won this together, so let’s figure this out together.”

  “I guess that sort of makes sense,” said Arnaldo.

  There was a general murmur of agreement.

  “London found it,” said November.

  “With help from us.” That was Siku’s voice.

  Caleb’s hand slid up my neck to find my mouth, tracing my lips. I kept myself from gasping and whispered, “They’ll hear us.”

  “I only found it because Caleb suggested we search the middle of the glade. Maybe he should get it,” said London, sounding uncertain.

  Caleb raised his voice as he wrapped both arms around me and lifted me off the ground. His heartbeat resounded through my body like my own pulse. “All this was Dez’s idea. She should get the credit.”

  I wiggled as quietly as I could, kicking my legs, breathless with withheld laughter. “We all did this,” I said. To my own ears, my voice sounded distracted, dizzy. “Not just me.”

  “One last time,” Caleb whispered, and allowed my body to slide down his to the ground, his hands on my hips. Then he kissed me, strangely urgent. One last time? Was this good-bye?

  “November’s the worst at history,” said Siku. “She needs it most.”

  “I can’t learn it,” said November. “So I’m doomed to repeat it.”

  “I vote November gets it,” said London.

  Caleb’s lips left mine. “Me too,” he said.

  I felt dizzy. “Sounds good,” I said.

  “Okay,” Arnaldo said.

  “Yay! Half moon instead of crescent moon!” said November. Light footsteps marked that she was moving. “Where are you again, Wolfie?”

  “Over here, Rattie,” said London. “Here you go.”

  Caleb released me. I hastily combed my fingers through my hair and adjusted my coat.

  “Got it! Blindfolds off!”

  I removed the black cloth. Everyone was grinning, arms and legs covered with bits of foliage. Siku was just getting to his feet, his broad back speckled with red and brown bracken, beaming like he’d stumbled on a honeycomb. Caleb shot me a glance that made my face hot.

  Morfael stood at the edge of the clearing looking like one of those elongated saints in a Mannerist painting, all pointy elbows and burning eyes. Oh no. He must have seen the whole thing. I blushed furiously, but no one was looking at me. November walked up to Morfael, holding the book out like it was some sort of shield.

  “Here,” she said.

  He looked down at her, and we all stilled, waiting for his verdict. Had I ruined the test by getting everyone to collaborate?

  “Very well,” he said, taking the book from her. “Now back to the locker rooms for your midday shift before lunch. I believe Raynard is making pizza.”

  “Woo-hoo!” November swiveled and ran right at Siku. She would have bowled him over, but with that unexpected grace of his, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her over his head. She whooped, arms outstretched like a dancer. It turned into a scream when he pretended to drop her, but he caught her a few inches from the ground, grinning. She gasped, flailing at him with her fists and giggling.

  “Whoever’s last to the locker rooms has to wash the dishes alone!” yelled Arnaldo, taking off into the trees toward the school. The others laughed and ran after him.

  I looked for Morfael’s reaction. But he was nowhere to be seen. Caleb and I were alone in the glade.

  The place where he’d kissed my neck still burned like a brand. I didn’t want to break the spell by talking about it.

  “Guess we’ll be doing the dishes,” I said, trying to sound hearty and failing.

  “You did it again, you know,” he said.

  “What?” I said, alarmed. “What did I do?”

  “You broke the unspoken rules.”

  “I didn’t mean to break any rules,” I said. “It just seemed like it might go faster if we all worked together . . .”

  “You were right.” He smiled at me, and we turned to head back toward the school, side by side. “It was brilliant.”

  “Oh.” I relaxed. “You’re one to talk. Isn’t there some rule about not grabbing one of the other players during these exercises?”

  “Only if the other player objects,” he said, his suppressed smile returning. “You didn’t object for long.”

  My ears were growing warm. I didn’t know what to say. “I . . .”

  “You really don’t know the effect you have on people, do you?” He shook his head. “The group never would’ve done that together if you hadn’t made it happen.”

  “It was all of us, not just me.”

  “See, that’s what I mean,” he said. “You don’t want to take the credit. You want to include everyone, make sure we all win somehow. Even kids from different shifter tribes, brought up to hate each other, are affected by it.”

  Again he’d rendered me speechless.

  “Don’t get all embarrassed,” he said. “I’m just telling you what I see.”
/>   He was right there, inches away, being sweet and supportive. Just moments before we’d been locked in a passionate embrace. It would’ve felt so natural to take his arm or hold his hand. But now that the blindfolds were off, I remembered how he’d said he was leaving the school. That and his lies still stood like a wall between us.

  “You’re leaving soon, aren’t you?” I said, watching him carefully.

  He ducked his head and didn’t answer for a moment. “I was being selfish. I just . . . I couldn’t resist.”

  “And you still can’t tell me why you have to go? Even after . . .” I gestured back toward the glade, where we’d been kissing moments before.

  He shook his head, not meeting my eyes. “I wish I could.”

  We walked without saying anything for a few minutes. My emotions were a riot of contradictions—anger, resentment, friendship, desire. Above it all, I was now worried for him. I had no doubt that whatever he planned to do when he left was dangerous. Maybe he didn’t want me to know because it would endanger me as well.

  I cleared my throat and decided to settle on friendship, for now. “If this were a normal camp, I mean, a camp of humdrums. . .” He smiled as I corrected myself. “There’d be midnight raids on the girls’ cabin and love triangles and lifelong friendships formed. But we’re all supposed to hate each other, so it’s taking a bit longer.”

  “Midnight raids?” He raised his eyebrows at me. “Now there’s an idea.”

  At lunch, caught up in the giddiness left over from the book-finding exercise, November and Siku held a contest to see who could fit the most celery sticks into their mouths at once. November won. Caleb recited three dirty limericks, leaving us red-faced with laughter. Then Arnaldo stood on his chair and sang an aria from The Marriage of Figaro in a strong, beautiful baritone. As the last pure note faded away, we cheered and London threw bread rolls, which nearly led to an all-out food fight before Morfael squashed it with a reminder that we’d have to clean it up. That was the only time he remarked on anything, going back to cutting up his pizza into small, delicate bites.

  After the afternoon’s classes and dinner, London, November, and I were getting ready for bed in the girls’ cabin when the front door creaked open. London shouted a warning, which turned into a laugh as the boys burst in, big grins plastered on their faces. Siku boasted how he’d give ’Ember a run at lockpicking now. Then he, Arnaldo, and Caleb wandered around the cabin, touching everything and making bad jokes about underwear and bunk beds. Eventually they settled in, and the six of us talked late into the night.

  The only spot of discomfort came when Caleb sat on the floor near where I was on my lower bunk, leaning his back against the bedpost near me. I had trouble focusing on the talk because I kept looking at the back of his neck and imagining running my fingers through his hair.

  London interrupted my reverie, leaning in and whispering, “Thanks.”

  “What for?” I whispered back. November was juggling three tennis balls as the boys applauded.

  London shrugged. “I actually forgot I was a shifter today.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  She nodded. “My parents will never let me go to medical school. I’ll be trapped in the woods in Idaho my whole life and be a carpenter like my dad.”

  “You’d be a good doctor,” I said. “Have you tried talking to your parents?”

  “Yeah. They see humdrum hunters gunning down real wolves just for being wolves and they don’t get why I’d want to help heal their children. Why does everyone hate everyone else so much?”

  “Wish I knew.” I slid my arm around her and gave her a hug. She didn’t pull away. “Things can change,” I said.

  “Arnie, you should be an opera singer or something.” November was kicking her feet from her perch on the top bunk.

  “Totally,” said London.

  “My voice teacher thinks so too,” he said, making a slightly embarrassed face. “But my dad went ballistic when I told him that. He thinks opera’s, you know, not something real men do.”

  “Give me a break.” November rolled her eyes.

  “Do it anyway,” said Caleb. “Get a job, get your own place, maybe even go to college and study it. You’re old enough.”

  “Just what I was thinking,” I said, throwing London a significant glance. “Any of you could do that.”

  “I’d like to,” Arnaldo said slowly. “But my two little brothers will still be there, and if I leave, my dad might get really angry. I don’t want him to take it out on them.”

  “Shit,” said November. “So does he, like, hit you?”

  “You so don’t have to answer that,” London put in real fast.

  Arnaldo said, his voice very quiet. “Ever since my mom got killed, he drinks more than ever, and when he’s drunk, he can get really angry and crazy. I can’t leave my brothers there alone.”

  We sat in sympathetic silence for another second until Siku grabbed a pillow and lobbed it at Arnaldo, smacking him in the face.

  “Jerk,” said Arnaldo, and threw it back, hard.

  Seconds later pillows were flying. It turned into boys versus girls as London and I climbed up on November’s bunk to join her in an assault on the boys below. They retreated to the kitchen area, grabbing some old bread and a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom to launch at us until we threw our pillows and gave them ammunition.

  Eventually we all ended up in an exhausted heap on the floor, giggling. The boys left the cabin slowly and reluctantly, mocking our poor showing in the pillow fight.

  We were all a bit sleepy and punchy in the morning. Morfael sent Caleb away and had the rest of us remain in animal form after our first shift that morning. Then one by one, he took us each to a different spot on the school compound, out of sight of the others.

  I was last, and he led me behind the boys’ cabin to a large rock. “Stay here until you hear me whistle,” he said. “I have hidden the same book you searched for yesterday somewhere on the school grounds. The first of you to find it will be free from kitchen duties for a week.”

  As he glided away, I figured he’d deliberately made it tougher for us to cooperate in this exercise. No kitchen duty was a coveted prize no one would want to give away.

  A high-pitched whistle split the air. The starting signal. I crept around the edge of the boys’ cabin, sniffing for anything that smelled like leather-bound pages. Hearing nothing inside, I opened the front door using one paw and my teeth. Morfael had taught us each how to do this a few days earlier. With no thumbs, simple tasks could be challenging.

  Only a sliver of light illuminated the cabin, but that was enough for me to see every detail. I quickly found a pile of books next to a bunk that smelled a lot like Caleb, but none was the right book. I rubbed my cheek over his pillow before I realized I was marking it as my territory. I smelled something familiar under the bed and pawed it out to find a duffle bag. The zipper was a challenge, but I teased it open using one claw.

  Inside lay an odd collection of items, including a glass jar full of dried leaves and sticks that I recognized as coming from the lightning tree near my school in Burbank. I also found a blue marble, an empty plastic water bottle, two rocks, a saltshaker, an unused postcard of Prague, a notepad and pen, and a plush stuffed elephant. For a moment I got misty, thinking it had to be some relic from Caleb’s childhood. But then I remembered that we’d fled the Tribunal compound with nothing but our clothes and Lazar’s BMW. Caleb must have acquired these things in the meantime. But why?

  I forced myself to put the duffle back, and my paw bumped against something else. Another familiar smell reached my nose, and I pulled my back brace out from under the bed. The last time I’d seen it, Mom was putting it in the trunk of Lazar’s BMW. I’d been happy to leave it there. It looked smaller than I remembered. Seeing it brought back the pain of wearing it, the suffocation I’d felt because of it. What the hell was it doing under Caleb’s bed? It was weird enough that Caleb knew about the brace. But the fact tha
t he’d seen it, that he had it under his bed, sent a wave of shame flooding over me.

  I shoved the brace back under the bed, growling to myself. Better not to think about it. Get back to the test. I walked around blindly, pretending to explore the rest of the cabin until the suffocating feelings went away. The bathroom held a combination of smells that made me glad I lived with girls. But the book was not in the cabin. As I left, I caught a glimpse of a lean, silvery form slipping through the trees near the girls’ cabin.

  London. Her nose and ears must have alerted her I was there. But while we were in animal form, the creature instincts were much stronger. And wolves did not socialize with tigers. We were competitors.

  But after last night, I felt we were friends. I uttered as soft a call as I could. A second later, London’s muzzle appeared through the bushes, her ears alert and upright, her eyes, so wild and blue, staring right at me.

  I smacked my tail twice against the boys’ cabin wall behind me, then shook my head, hoping she’d understand. She in turn pointed her snout at the girls’ cabin. When she looked back at me, she also shook her head.

  I exhaled a ruffled “grr” of satisfaction. So the book wasn’t in the girls’ cabin either.

  Together we strode toward Morfael’s bent house, watchful for the others. As I turned the doorknob, something crashed two rooms away. At least two of our friends were in the kitchen and, from the sound of it, still searching.

  London crept in first, surveying the dark living room. Someone had pulled the rug half upside down and pushed the couch away from the wall. So they’d already searched here. I followed her in, and we inched toward the door to the library, using all our skill to move with utmost quiet.

  As we entered the silent library, more rattles and a grunt signaled that Siku was one of the shifters in there. Maybe we should try to join forces.

  But London had stiffened, nose trembling as her eyes scanned the bookshelves. She’d caught the scent.

  It would be just like Morfael to hide the one book we wanted among hundreds of others. I moved to her side, inhaling to see if I could find that particular book. But all the dust and moldering paper invaded my senses at once. I couldn’t pick out the difference.