Huntress, Black Dawn, Witchlight

by L. J. Smith

  The air was buzzing with it. It lifted up the little hairs on Keller’s arms. And no matter how she tried to will it away, it only seemed to grow and grow.

  Somehow the silence made it worse, made it more profound. I have to say something, Keller thought. Something casual, to show that I’m not affected.

  She stared at the scrolls, which she was beginning to hate. If only she could find something useful…

  Then she saw it. Right there on the scroll she was studying.

  “Galen. There’s something here—in a copy of the oldest records about dragons. It’s talking about what the dragons can do, what their powers are besides the dark energy.”

  She read from the scroll, hesitating on words that were less familiar to her. “‘A dragon has only to touch an animal and it is able to assume that animal’s form, know all that the animal knows, do all that the animal can do. There is no’—I think it says ‘limit’—‘on the number of shapes it can master. Therefore, it is a true shapeshifter and the only one worthy of the name.’ I told you this stuff was old,” she added. “I think the original was written by the dragons’ press agent during the war.”

  “‘No limit on the number of shapes it can master,’” Galen repeated with growing excitement. “That makes sense, you know. That’s what the First House has inherited, only in a diluted form. Being able to pick whichever shape we want to become—but only the first time. After that, we’re stuck with it, of course.”

  “Do you have to touch an animal to learn its shape?”

  He nodded. “That’s how we choose. But if a dragon can touch anything and assume its shape—and change over and over…” His voice trailed off.

  “Yeah. It’s going to be awfully difficult to spot them,” Keller said. The tension in the air had been somewhat discharged by talking, and she felt a little calmer. At least she could talk without the words sticking in her throat.

  But Galen wasn’t helping. He leaned closer, peering down at her scroll. “I wonder if it says anything else, anything about how to identify…wait. Keller, look down here at the bottom.”

  To do it, she had to bend her head so that his hair brushed her cheek. “What?”

  “Horns, something about horns,” he muttered almost feverishly. “You’re better at translating than I am. What’s this word?”

  “‘Regardless’? No, it’s more like ‘no matter.’” She began to read. “‘But no matter what form it takes, a dragon may always be known—’”

  “‘By its horns,’” he chimed in, reading with her.

  They finished together, helping each other. “‘A dragon has from one to three horns on its forehead, and in some rare cases four. These horns’”—both their voices rose—“‘which are the seat of its power are most cruelly removed by the witches who capture them, to steal from them the power of changing.’”

  They both stopped. They kept staring at the parchment for what seemed endless minutes to Keller. Galen was gripping her wrist so hard that it hurt.

  Then he said softly, “That’s it. That’s the answer.”

  He looked up at her and gave her wrist a little shake. “That’s the answer. Keller, we did it; we found it.”

  “Shh! You’re going to wake up the whole house.” But she was almost as shaky with excitement as he was. “Let me think. Yeah, that guy Azhdeha could have had horns. His hair was all messy, covering his forehead, and I remember thinking that was a little strange. The rest of him looked so neat.”

  “You see?” He laughed breathlessly, exultantly.

  “Yes. But—well, do you have any idea how hard it would be to try and take off a dragon’s horns?”

  “No, and I don’t care. Keller, stop it, stop trying to dampen this! The point is, we found it. We know something about dragons that can hurt them. We know how to fight!”

  Keller couldn’t help it. His exhilaration was infectious. All at once, all the bottled-up emotions inside her started to come out. She squeezed his arm back, half laughing and half crying.

  “You did it,” she said. “You found the part.”

  “It was on your scroll. You were just about to get there.”

  “You were the one who suggested we look at the scrolls in the first place.”

  “You were the one—” Suddenly, he broke off. He had been looking at her, laughing, their faces only inches apart as they congratulated each other in whispers. His eyes were like the woods in summertime, golden-green with darker green motes in them that seemed to shift in the light.

  But now something like pain crossed his face. He was still looking at her, still gripping her arm, but his eyes went bleak.

  “You’re the one,” he said quietly.

  Keller had to brace herself. Then she said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  He said it so simply, so flatly. There was almost no way to argue.

  Keller found one. “Look, Galen, if this is about what happened in the library—”

  “At least you’re admitting that something happened now.”

  “—then I don’t know what’s wrong with you. We’re both shapeshifters, and there was a minute when we sort of lost our objectivity. We’re under a lot of stress. We had a moment of…physical attraction. It happens, when you do a job like this; you just can’t take it seriously.”

  He was staring at her. “Is that what you’ve convinced yourself happened? ‘A moment of physical attraction?’”

  The truth was that Keller had almost convinced herself that nothing had happened—or convinced her mind, anyway.

  “I told you,” she said, and her voice was harsher than she’d heard it for a long time. “Love is for weak people. I’m not weak, and I don’t plan to let anything make me weak. And, besides, what is your problem? You’ve already got a fiancée. Iliana’s brave and kind and beautiful, and she’s going to be very, very powerful. What more could you want?”

  “You’re right,” Galen said. “She’s all those things. And I respect her and admire her—I even love her. Who could help loving her? But I’m not in love with her. I’m—”

  “Don’t say it.” Keller was angry now, which was good. It made her strong. “What kind of prince would put his personal happiness above the fate of his people? Above the fate of the whole freaking world, for that matter?”

  “I don’t!” he raged back. He was speaking softly, but it was still a rage, and he was a little bit frightening. His eyes blazed a deep and endless green. “I’m not saying I won’t go through with the ceremony. All I’m saying is that it’s you I love. You’re my soulmate, Keller. And you know it.”

  Soulmate. The word hit Keller and ricocheted, clunking inside her as it made its way down. When it hit bottom, it settled into a little niche made especially for it, fitting exactly.

  It was the word to describe what had really happened in the library. No stress-induced moment of physical attraction and no simple romantic flirtation, either. It was the soulmate principle.

  She and Galen were soulmates.

  And it didn’t matter a bit, because they could never be together.

  CHAPTER 14

  Keller put her hands to her face. At first, she didn’t recognize what was happening to her. Then she realized that she was crying.

  She was shaking, Raksha Keller who wasn’t afraid of anyone and who never let her heart be touched. She was making those ridiculous little noises that sounded like a six-week-old kitten. She was dripping tears through her fingers.

  The worst thing was that she couldn’t seem to make herself stop.

  Then she felt Galen’s arms around her, and she realized that he was crying, too.

  He was better at it than she was. He seemed more used to it and didn’t fight it as hard, which made him stronger. He was able to stroke her hair and even to get some words out.

  “Keller, I’m sorry. Keller…can I call you Raksha?”

  Keller shook her head furiously, spraying teardrops.

  “I alway
s think of you as Keller, anyway. It’s just—you, somehow. I’m sorry about all of this. I didn’t mean to make you cry. It would be better if you’d never met me…”

  Keller found herself shaking her head again. And then, just as she had the last time, she felt her arms moving to hold him back. She pressed her face against the softness of his sweatshirt, trying to get enough control of herself to speak.

  This was the problem with having walls so hard and high and unscalable, she supposed. When they came down, they crumbled completely, shattering into nothingness. She felt utterly defenseless right now.

  Unguarded…vulnerable…but not alone. She could feel more than Galen’s physical presence. She could feel his spirit, and she was being pulled toward it. They were falling together, falling into each other, as they had in the library. Closer and closer…

  Contact.

  She felt the touch of his mind, and once again her heart almost exploded.

  You’re the one. You’re my soulmate, his mental voice said, as if this were an entirely new idea, and he was just discovering it and rejoicing in it.

  Keller reached for denial, but it simply wasn’t around. And she couldn’t pretend to someone who shared her thoughts.

  Yes.

  When I first saw you, he said, I was so fascinated by you. I already told you this, didn’t I? It made me proud to be a shapeshifter for the first time. Aren’t you proud?

  Keller was disconcerted. She still wasn’t finished crying—but, yes, she was. With his warmth and passion shining into her, his arms locked around her, his mind open to her…it was hard not to get swept up in it.

  I guess I’m proud, she thought to him slowly. But only of some parts of it. Other things…

  What things? he demanded, almost fiercely protective. Our history? The dragons?

  No. Stuff you wouldn’t understand. Things about—animal nature. Even now, Keller was afraid of letting him see some parts of her. Leave it alone, Galen.

  All he said was, Tell me.

  No. It happened a long time ago, when I was three. Just be glad you get to pick what kind of animal you’ll become.

  Keller, he said. Please.

  You don’t like animal nature, she told him. Remember how you pulled your hand away when you touched my shoulder in the music room?

  In the…? His mental voice trailed off, and Keller waited grimly to feel the memory of disgust in him. But what came wasn’t revulsion. Instead, it was a strong sense of longing that he was somehow trying to smother. And choked, wry laughter.

  Keller, I didn’t pull away because I didn’t like your fur. I did it because… He hesitated, then burst out, sounding embarrassed, I wanted to pet you!

  Pet…?

  Your fur was so soft, and it felt so good when I moved my palm the wrong way against it—just like velvet. And—I wanted to—to do this. He ran a hand up and down her back. I couldn’t help it. But I knew it wasn’t exactly appropriate, and you would probably break my jaw if I tried it. So I took my hand away. He finished, still embarrassed, but half laughing. Now, you tell me what you’re not proud of.

  Keller felt very warm, and she was sure her face was flushed. It was just as well that it was hidden. It was too bad—there was probably never going to be a time to tell him that she wouldn’t mind being petted like that…

  I’m a cat, after all, she thought, and was distantly surprised to hear him chuckle. There were no secrets in this kind of soul-link, she realized, slightly flustered. To cover her embarrassment, she spoke out loud.

  “The thing I’m not proud of—it happened when I was living with my first Circle Daybreak family. I used to spend a lot of time in my half-and-half form. It was easy for me to get stuck that way, and they didn’t mind.”

  I wouldn’t, either, Galen said. You’re beautiful like that.

  “Anyway, I was sitting on my foster mother’s lap while she was combing my hair, and I don’t know what happened, but something startled me. Some loud noise outside, maybe a car backfiring. I jumped straight up and tried to race for my hiding place under the desk.”

  Keller paused, made herself take an even breath. She felt Galen’s arms tighten around her.

  “And then—well, my foster mother tried to hold on to me, to keep me from being frightened. But all I could think of was danger, danger. So I lashed out at her. I used my claws—I have retractable claws in that form. I would have done anything to get away.”

  She paused again. It was so hard to tell this.

  “She had to go to the hospital. I forget how many stitches she needed in her face. But I remember everything else—being taken to another foster family because that one couldn’t handle me. I didn’t blame them for sending me away, but I always wished I could have told her how sorry I was.”

  There was a silence. Keller could feel Galen breathing, and that gave her an odd sense of comfort.

  Then he said quietly, out loud, “That’s all?”

  Keller started, then lifted her head a little and made herself answer the same way. “Isn’t it enough?”

  “Keller…you were just a baby. You didn’t mean to do any harm; it was an accident. You can’t blame yourself.”

  “I do blame myself. If I hadn’t been taken over by my instinct—”

  “That’s ridiculous. Human babies do stupid things all the time. What if a human three-year-old falls into a swimming pool and somebody drowns trying to rescue her? Would you blame the baby?”

  Keller hesitated, then rested her head on his shoulder again. “Don’t be silly.”

  “Then how can you blame yourself for something you couldn’t help?”

  Keller didn’t answer, but she felt as if a crushing load was sliding slowly off her. He didn’t blame her. Maybe she wasn’t to blame. She would always be sorry, but maybe she didn’t need to be so ashamed.

  She tightened her own arms around him. Thank you, she thought.

  Oh, Keller. You’re so wonderful, and you’re so set against admitting it. Everything you do…shines.

  Keller couldn’t form any words for a moment. Then she said, Galen? When you do choose a form, choose something gentle.

  I thought you thought everybody has to be a fighter, he said, and his mental voice was very quiet.

  Some people shouldn’t have to be.

  Then she just let him hold her.

  Another endless time, while they both seemed to be floating in soft, gold fire. It flared around them and through them, joining them. Sometimes she could hardly tell which thoughts were his and which were hers.

  He said, I used to write poetry, you know. Or try. My parents hated it; they were so embarrassed. Instead of learning to be a good hunter, their son was writing gibberish.

  She said, There’s this terrible dream I have, where I look out at the ocean and see a wall of water hundreds of feet high, and I know it’s coming and I can never get away in time. Cats and water, you know. I guess that’s why.

  He said, I used to daydream about what kind of animal it would be most fun to be. But it always came down to the same thing, some kind of bird. You just can’t beat flying.

  She said, One thing I always had to hide from my foster mothers was how much I liked to shred things. I thought I was being so clever when I would hide their panty hose after I used my claws on them. But when I did it on the sheer curtains one day, everybody knew.

  They talked and talked. And Keller gave herself up to it, to the simple pleasure of his closeness and the feeling that for once she didn’t have to hide or pretend or defend herself. It was such a blessed relief not to have to pretend at all.

  Galen knew her, and he accepted her. All of her. He loved her self, not her black swirling hair or her long legs or the curve of her lips. He might admire those things, but he loved her, what she was inside.

  And he loved her with a sweetness and a power that shook Keller to her soul.

  She wanted to stay like this forever.

  There was something else waiting for them, though. Something she di
dn’t want to think about but that loomed just outside the brightness and warmth that surrounded them.

  The world…there’s still a world out there. And it’s in trouble.

  And we can’t ignore that.

  Galen.

  I know.

  Very slowly, very reluctantly, Galen straightened, putting her away from him. He couldn’t seem to let go of her shoulders, though. They sat that way, their eyes locked.

  And the strange thing was that the mental connection wasn’t broken. They could still hear each other as they held each other’s gaze.

  We can never be like this again, Keller said.

  I know. He had faced it as clearly as she had, she realized.

  We can’t talk about it; we can’t even be alone together. It isn’t fair to Iliana. And we have to try to forget each other and just go on.

  I know, he said for the third time. And just when Keller was marveling at his quiet acceptance, she saw tears in his gem-colored eyes. Keller, it’s my fault. If I weren’t the son of the First House…

  We’d never have met. And that would have been worse.

  “Would it?” he said out loud, as if he needed reassurance.

  Yes. She gave the answer mentally, so that he could feel the truth of it. Oh, Galen, I’m so glad we met. I’m so glad to have known you. And if we live through this, I’ll be glad all my life.

  He took her into his arms again.

  “We have it, Boss,” Winnie said.

  Her eyes were sparkling. Beside her, Nissa looked calmly enthusiastic.

  “What?” Keller asked. She herself felt calmly alert, in spite of almost no sleep the night before. She and Galen had stayed up late, reading over the scrolls, making sure that there was nothing they had missed. They had already explained what they’d found to the others.

  Now Winnie was grinning at her.

  “How to protect Iliana at the party on Saturday. We’ve got it, and it’s foolproof!”

  Nothing is foolproof, Keller thought. She said, “Go on.”

  “It’s like this. We put wards all around the Ashton-Hughes house, just like the wards Grandma Harman made for this house. The strongest possible from Circle Daybreak. But we put them around the house now, as soon as we can. We key them so that only humans can get in.”