by J. L. Murray
Elek was looking at the wolf. He didn't look hungry, as Balyn did; only thoughtful.
“The children are hungry,” said Balyn.
“Then go get them some food,” said Eleni. She was beginning to get angry.
“I brought back a rabbit,” Balyn said defensively.
Eleni snorted.
“I am made for battle, not hunting for a bunch of women,” said Balyn, his voice becoming high and wheezy.
“That is not a wolf,” said Elek, so softly that Eleni barely heard him.
“What?” said Balyn. “Elek,” he said, his voice low, but loud enough for Eleni to hear. “These women are trying to change everything.”
Elek seemed to tear his eyes from the animal at Eleni's side. The wolf was gazing at the large man in an oddly steady, calm way. “Shut your mouth, boy,” said Elek, seeming to notice Balyn for the first time. Balyn seemed to shrink under Elek's eyes. “Go home,” said Elek.
“What?” said Balyn.
“Go to your tent and go to sleep,” said Elek slowly. “When you wake, you will go out into the forest. By nightfall you will bring food for the women and children.”
Balyn glared at Eleni for a moment, but seemed unable to meet her eyes. After a moment, he slunk off to his tent. Elek turned to Eleni.
“I doubted you before,” he said. He nodded, looking thoughtful again. He looked at the wolf. “My people, we are taught that women are weak. I doubted that Zaric could come back as a woman. But I see you now. I see the strength in you. You fear no man. You keep company with a wolf that is not a wolf. That is something else, something holy, I think.” Elek licked his dry lips and looked at Eleni. He shook his shaggy head. “Balyn is an idiot. My brother's son. He does not know yet the sanctity of who we are or our brothers the natural wolves.” Elek frowned. Suddenly he crouched down, his knee to the ground, in front of Eleni. “I hope you can forgive me. Forgive us.”
Eleni glanced at Magda, whose eyebrows were raised in a look of shock. The old woman looked down at the wolf and narrowed her eyes.
“There is nothing to forgive,” said Eleni. She felt a sudden pressure in her chest and she could feel fire flaring inside of her. She swallowed it down.
Elek nodded, as if that satisfied him.
“Why do you say this?” said Magda. Elek looked sharply at her. “The wolf,” said Magda. “What do you see when you look at it?”
Elek looked hard at Magda. “Everything,” he said. Then he rose and walked away, shooing curious children and men alike back to their tents.
“What is he talking about?” said Magda, seeming desperate to know. “What is your wolf?”
“She is a wolf,” said Eleni with a shrug. “But something else, too. I do not know what. It is her business, not mine. She is her own.”
“Do you know what just happened, Eleni?” said Magda. “With Elek?”
“I do not understand what any of that meant,” said Eleni, looking at Magda.
Magda looked at her and smiled a joyless smile. “You have just earned yourself a powerful ally, girl. The leader of the Reivers just took a knee before you. They will protect you to their dying breath.”
“I don't need protection,” said Eleni.
“You will, child,” said Magda sadly. “Something is coming. I feel it in my chest.”
“God-eaters?” said Eleni.
“Yes,” said Magda. “God-eaters.”
Eleni stood and stepped over the log.
“Where are you going?” said Magda.
“To hunt,” said Eleni.
“Child, it isn't safe. I think it's best if you stay here. Let the others do the hunting.”
“I always hunt at night,” said Eleni. “And don't follow me with that noisy crow. It frightens the animals away.”
“Mati is elsewhere this night,” said Magda. “Please be careful.”
Eleni didn't answer, just raised her hand in a wave as she turned, the wolf at her side.
Chapter Ten
Fin crouched down, his hands on the earth. He felt the power slide from deep in his chest, through his arms and through the palms of his hands. He loved the feel of the ground bursting with life beneath him, that, were it not for him, would have taken years to reach maturity. He watched the sapling sprout up between his hands. It rose into the air, gaining girth as it went, branches fanning out above him like a shelter. Fin sat back and admired his handiwork.
The truth was that this forest didn't need him. It had fared far better after the fire than anywhere else he had been, except for the North. It seemed relatively untouched here. Oddly, it made Fin long to be somewhere else, anywhere that needed him to fix things. He felt useless here, where all he did was sit with unnaturals and pretend that their families weren't starving. Although, he had to admit, it had been extremely satisfying to watch Eleni frighten them into submission.
Now there was a reason to stay: Eleni. Not because of her beauty, but because he was simply curious about her capabilities, about how she would use the power she held. While they were traveling, he had sensed a thrum of energy from her that nearly overwhelmed him. But then they had approached the camp, and he felt it subside. He suspected it had something to do with the necklace that the young Reiver had stolen. Though he had only seen it only for a moment, he knew magic when he felt it, and it felt dangerous and powerful. He had felt a different power after she dropped that necklace over her head, a strange and slightly dark power. But even stranger was the sensation that the necklace had been put in its proper place, a feeling he knew well. That necklace had been meant for her. He knew it as surely as he knew that it also meant trouble.
Fin looked toward the canopy. It had grown dark while he had sat ruminating. He stood up and brushed himself off. He heard a rustle and looked around. He squinted in the darkness. It had been foolish of him to stay away so long, but he had been loathe to return to the Reiver camp. He respected Magda enough to stay, enough to trust in her instincts, but he didn't have to like it.
Fin heard a soft swish and felt someone walk behind him. He turned slowly, quietly, and saw the back of a colorful skirt, clashing horribly in the forest, standing out almost as much as the shock of red hair. Fin was surprised she could ever creep up on anything. The wolf was at her side, turning her dark head to look at him. The golden eyes seemed to surmise him, to contemplate him almost. Then the animal looked away. Fin turned his attention to Eleni. Her every motion precise and smooth, she was more graceful than the wolf. Her movements were liquid, like a wild cat Fin had seen once in the mountains. The cat had been dark and sleek, and its movements so slow and deliberate it had almost been art.
Eleni stopped and sniffed the air and he was sure she would turn to look at him. But she turned to the right instead. Fin could see her in profile. She looked beautiful in the brightly-colored dress. Fin didn't usually care for the Reiver women, so sharp and angular and stern. But Eleni was wildness itself, healthy and pink and full of life. She had combed out her mess of hair and someone had plaited it for her. It hung in a rope as thick as his forearm down her back. Fin realized he was holding his breath and exhaled noisily. Eleni's face rounded on him, narrowing her eyes. Fin smiled and stood.
“Magda let you out of her sight,” he said.
Eleni moved toward him, her face impassive as usual. He could never read her. He wished he could figure out what she was thinking when he talked to her. He always felt mildly like an idiot. She fixed him with her clear, pale eyes.
“Why should I be any different from you?” she said.
“No reason,” he said. “She just gets protective of new gods is all. Like a mother badger.” Eleni's mouth twitched and he thought she almost smiled.
“Is that what I am?” she said. “A new god?”
“So you admit what you are, then,” said Fin.
“No,” said Eleni. “But I accept that it remains a possibility.”
“That's reasonable. May I walk with you for a bit?”
Eleni looked at the wo
lf, but the beast had lost interest in the two of them and was investigating a mossy log illuminated by the scant moonlight.
“Why?” she said.
Fin smiled. “I like your company.”
Eleni looked at him for a moment, then nodded. “Yes,” she said. She began walking south, further away from the camp. She looked at Fin when he caught up. “I don't know how to be around others,” she said, looking pained.
“You don't have to be anything around others,” said Fin. “You seem to have done just fine on your own.”
Eleni clenched her jaw. “Magda does not approve of the way I do things.”
“Magda doesn't like to make waves,” said Fin, “unless she has to. All she cares about is finding her sisters. And if that means mingling with beasts that don't mind watching their wives and children starve, so be it. But you did right, Eleni. Don't doubt for a moment that you did right. Those kids will eat because of you.”
“I know I did right,” said Eleni. “I just do not understand Magda. Even the Reivers know.”
“What do you mean?” said Fin.
Eleni shrugged her small shoulders. “Elek kneeled to me tonight. Magda said he would die for me now. I don't know why he thinks I would want that, but it seemed to make Magda happy. I think.”
“Did he now?” said Fin. “Well, that is interesting.”
Eleni stopped and looked up at Fin. “I do not understand anything,” she said. “I don't know why Magda lives with thieves and murderers if she is so powerful. I don't know why people can't see sense. I don't know how to look at people or talk to people.”
“You're talking to me,” said Fin. “And you're looking right at me.”
“You are the only one that does not look away,” she said.
“Magda is one of the Three,” he said, trying to think of a way to explain it. “The Sudice, your people called them.”
“The Fates,” said Eleni. “You told me.”
“They control the fabric of the world. At least they did. Your mother, Anja, was one of the Three as well, though that hasn't always been her name. The other is called Danai. Before you were born, the sisters were separated somehow. Magda won't speak of it, so I don't know how it happened. Without her sisters, Magda is weak. She has very little power without the other two. But when they come together, they control the threads that weave the world together.”
“Threads?” said Eleni. “The world is not made of threads.”
“Just a figure of speech,” said Fin. “Not everything means what it sounds like.”
“I've noticed that,” said Eleni. “Magda has lost her power?”
“She can do very little,” said Fin. “Her place in the Fates was the present. The Now. She sees things as they are.”
“Doesn't everyone?”
“Not like Magda,” said Fin. “Your mother saw the paths of the future. And Danai, the past.”
“My mother saw the future?” said Eleni. “So she always knew she would leave me?”
“Perhaps not,” said Fin. “Maybe she saw what was coming, and the only way to save you was to leave. There is no way of knowing. Unless we find Danai. She could tell us where your mother went.”
“And where is Danai?” said Eleni. “Lost, too?”
Fin nodded. “Yes. Do you feel less confused? Now that you know?”
“No,” said Eleni. Her face had become impassive again. Fin wondered if it was a mask she put on. “Every answer leads to another question.”
Fin smiled. “Welcome to the world.” He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and saw the wolf slinking under some low lying branches. She was stalking something. A moment later he heard a snap and the wet sound of something being pulled apart by the wolf's strong jaws. Fin swallowed, and saw that Eleni was watching him. “Are you hungry?” he said.
“No,” said Eleni, sounding slightly surprised. “Perhaps I am ill.”
“It's the Reivers,” said Fin.
“Reivers?” said Eleni. “I don't understand.”
Fin shrugged. “You have worshipers now. It's better than food for our kind.”
“I'd rather have food,” said Eleni.
“You'll find you're slightly more powerful as well. It drives most gods. The reason for the lightning in the mountains.” Fin looked skyward just as a great blue bolt lit up the sky. “Maybe the reason your mother is gone. This thirst for power fills us all, whether we like it or not. Gods seek it out no matter the risk.”
“Do you seek it?” said Eleni, stepping over a fallen log. Fin saw she pulled her new dress up so it wouldn't become soiled. He wondered if she had ever owned anything beautiful before. He guessed not. She deserved more than a Reiver camp.
“The power? No, I don't seek it,” said Fin. “Though sometimes it finds me anyway.”
“You are different,” said Eleni. “Aren't you? Different than the other gods.”
“I suppose I am,” he said.
“You don't seem like a god to me,” said Eleni.
“Do I not?” he said, pushing a veil of hanging moss out of the way. “What do I seem like then?”
“A man,” said Eleni. She was looking straight ahead, avoiding his eye. “Not a man like the ones from my village. But a man like I always thought there might be in the world.”
“Does that mean you trust me?” said Fin.
Eleni furrowed her brow. “I do not trust easily.” She glanced at him. “But of all those I have met of late, I trust you the most.”
“That seems quite sensible,” said Fin.
“If you ever lie to me,” said Eleni. “I will kill you.”
“I don't doubt that for a second,” said Fin. “I'll tell you anything you want. Always.”
“See that you do,” said Eleni. But Fin was sure he saw her mouth twitch into a small smile for the second time that night.
The wolf rejoined them, licking her muzzle. Eleni rested a hand on the beast's head. The wolf's back came up past her hip. “How did you find her?” said Fin. “The wolf.”
“I didn't,” said Eleni. “She found me. When I was a child she would bring me meat. When they started letting me out at night, I was very afraid.” Eleni's voice changed. Fin could almost see her as a mostly-ordinary child afraid of the dark. “There were dark creatures everywhere then. I didn't want to go, but Cosmin locked up the box so I couldn't go back in until dawn.”
Fin swallowed the bile that rose whenever he thought of mortals treating a goddess this way. He was glad they were dead. If they were not, he would gladly kill them himself. “They had no right to treat you that way.”
“They had reasons to hate me,” said Eleni, her voice quiet. She shook her head. “But the wolf protected me at first. Until I was brave enough to kill on my own. She has always been here.”
“You seem to hold your own now,” said Fin.
“Hold my own?” said Eleni.
“You're a good hunter,” said Fin.
“Yes,” said Eleni. “I am.”
Fin heard a gurgling nearby and realized they were approaching the stream. He had lost his bearings in the dark and not realized where they were heading. All his concentration had been focused on talking to Eleni and at the same time avoiding tripping on the enormous tree roots that snaked the ground all through the forest. It seemed to be Eleni's destination, because she kept walking steadily toward the sound.
As they approached, the forest became denser, the air more moist. Still cold, but as though the air around the creek had absorbed all the liquid it could from the rushing water. The creek itself, Fin saw as they arrived on the shore, was gentler than usual, but with cruel, jagged shards of ice clinging to the banks. He shivered just looking at them. The wolf walked out to the middle and lapped at the water that splashed around the base of her neck.
“Will you hold my dress?” said Eleni. Fin looked and felt his eyes widen. Eleni had taken off her garment and carefully folded it. She held it out to him like it was something precious. He imagined it probably was. H
er skin glowed even in the darkness. He tore his eyes away from her and focused on her face. She was still holding the dress out to him with a look of irritation on her face.
He took the garment. “Eleni, you shouldn't take your clothes off in front of strange men,” he said. He inwardly cursed the tightness of the trousers Magda had insisted he wear while staying with the Reivers. He missed his kilt.
“You're not that strange,” said Eleni. She turned and stepped into the water. Steam rose from her skin where it met the icy water. She didn't seem to notice and moved to stand next to the wolf. “Besides, you've seen me without clothes before.”
“You were covered in mud and pig blood,” said Fin.
“Well, I am covered in grime,” said Eleni. “I didn't want to get it on my dress.”
Fin looked up, trying to focus his eyes on the canopy. Black against black. Without looking at her he said, “You know, you will have even finer clothes than these when you leave here. These are naught but scraps sewn together.”
“What is the point of thinking of such things?” said Eleni. Fin could hear her splashing. He wanted to look at her, but he was afraid to. Things were becoming increasingly uncomfortable as it was. “The future holds no promises,” she said. “When you hold beauty in your hands, why tarnish it with what beauty another path might hold?”
Fin blinked. “That's very poetic,” he said.
“Something my mother used to say,” she said. “I never understood it.”
When Eleni was dressing Fin turned his back to her. He heard the rustle of fabric as she struggled into her dress. The wolf stood apart, shaking the water from her fur.
“You said the men in your village had good reason to hate you,” said Fin. “What did you mean by that?”
Eleni was silent for a long moment, her hesitation hanging heavy in the air. “Not all the men,” she said. There was something wrong with her voice. There was almost a note of tremulousness in it. “Just Rastin.”
“Why?” said Fin, then shook his head. “You don't have to tell me.”
“I'll tell you,” said Eleni. She was quiet again and Fin began to think she had meant she'd tell him at a different time. But finally she cleared her throat. “I burned his son,” she said.
