Beauty's Beast

by Jenna Kernan

  “What happened to us?” asked Blake.

  “Nagi tore the souls from your bodies. He tried the same on us but we are immune to his powers.”

  Blake adsorbed this.

  “Because they have no souls,” said a tall handsome man behind Blake.

  “Quiet, Mr. Healy.” He faced Alon again.

  Healy? Could that be Jessica Healy Chien’s father, the one who disowned his only child for marrying a Skinwalker? Alon wondered what fate awaited Samantha for fighting with the Toe Taggers.

  “Nagi?” asked Blake.

  “The Ghost Children defeated him.”

  “How?”

  “Later. Your sister first.” Alon turned to go. Blake’s hand rested on his shoulder.

  “Aldara?” he whispered.

  “Working on the others. Many are injured.”

  “My father is still on the field.”

  “I’ll find him.”

  “Your parents, Nicholas and Bess?”

  “Restored.”

  Blake’s shoulders sagged, but whether from news of Bess’s recovery or that Aldara was safe, he was not certain.

  Blake turned to stare down the hill to the valley. The fallen lay strewn before him like rag dolls. He covered his mouth in horror.

  Jessie Healy Chien charged up to Alon and clutched his arm. “Save him, quickly, before I lose him forever. My daughters! Quick!”

  Beyond her, Alon saw the fallen wolves unattended. Alon turned to follow her.

  “No,” said Healy, clasping his daughter’s shoulders. He swept an arm, indicating the fallen Niyanoka. “The Spirit Children first.” He directed his next comment to Blake. “Order him to see to us before the Skinwalkers.”

  Had the man really just commanded that his son-in-law and grandchildren be left to die? Had he just given the War Chief of the Niyanoka an order?

  Alon met Blake’s troubled gaze. Blake could not really direct him to do anything, but Alon waited to see what he would do.

  “Go,” said Blake.

  “Blake,” cried Healy. “Our people first!”

  Alon billowed down the hillside to find the wolves, lying neglected between the buffalo and the bear. Just as he had ordered, his troops restored the healers first.

  Sebastian was already on his feet and healing the wounded alongside a gathering of buffalo. Alon materialized in fighting form. Sebastian called to him.

  “You are Alon?”

  He turned to face Sebastian, wishing he was in his human form for this first meeting, dressed in a sports coat instead of bloody, matted hair and bristling quills. Alon used both hands to try to smooth the fur at his temples. It was the best he could do.

  “Yes.”

  “Where is my daughter?”

  “With Blake. He is seeing to her injuries.”

  “My wife?”

  “Is well.” He wished his words were not garbled by his teeth. “I gave orders that the Seers be restored first to keep the souls from crossing to the Spirit World. Your son works on the injured Niyanoka above.”

  He nodded, then he glanced at the wolves, before returning his attention to Alon. “Tell your forces to carry the wounded here to us.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Alon turned to go, distracted by the many souls trying to cling to the bodies they had once inhabited.

  “Son?”

  Alon hesitated, blinking in surprise as the greatest of the bears, the War Chief of the Skinwalkers and the father of the woman he loved, extended his hand.

  Alon reached, saw his own clawlike appendage and flushed with shame, but he clasped Sebastian’s forearm.

  “You fought well.”

  Alon broke away with a murmured thanks. He had expected many things from the War Chief of the Skinwalkers, frontal attack being foremost. But he had not expected thanks.

  Alon worked his way along the wolves, restoring souls first to the wounded and then the fallen. He restored the daughters of Jessie Healy Chien, but he could not find Nicholas Chien. One looked like another and he did not know which one was Jessie’s husband.

  Finally he reached the fallen body of a large gray timber wolf. Unlike the others, this one’s soul did not stray from his body and in fact seemed to cling to it, as if trying to anchor itself to the carcass. Alon nodded at the shimmering essence that still held some resemblance of the handsome form of the body it had inhabited for over a century.

  His thoughts came to Alon. Jessie. Jessie. Katherine. Lauren.

  This was why he did not stray. He had ones here who held him. His love for his wife and daughters was stronger than the call of the Spirit Road. Alon envied him that unwavering love.

  “She’s all right. So are your girls.” Alon reached out and captured Nicholas’s soul and plunged it back into his body. Nicholas convulsed, waking instantly. Another outward display of both his conviction and his strength. In a blink he was standing, his thick wolf pelt slung over one shoulder. He spotted his daughters, who charged to him, their wolf pelt cloaks flapping about their slim legs. They embraced and Nicholas closed his eyes an instant. Then he fixed them on Alon.

  “Jessie,” he said.

  Alon pointed. “With Blake.”

  Nicholas charged away, already dressed in jeans,

  T-shirt and running shoes.

  Alon envied the Skinwalkers their cloak. He’d very much like to take his human form instead of letting everyone see his most terrifying visage. But he did not want to appear naked before them all.

  Cody loped toward Alon. “I can’t find Dad.”

  “Aldara said you got him.”

  “No, just Mom. I’ve searched but I can’t find him.” The panic in his brother’s words surged through Alon as he turned his head, frantically trying to recall his father’s last position. No. No. Not his dad.

  A raven circled him, then hovered. He recognized her instantly.

  “Mom!” called Alon. “Where’s Dad?”

  Unlike other Skinwalkers, ravens could speak while in animal form, though her voice was high and raw. “I found him. Hurry!”

  Alon turned to Cody. “Save the wolves.”

  Cody nodded and set to work as Alon ran across the field, following their mother back to the position earlier held by their forces.

  His mother hovered, flapping madly. “Here!”

  Alon dropped to his knees beside his father’s body. Bess transformed to her human form in a flash of light and then dropped down to hold her husband’s head in her lap. His father’s soul tried and failed to touch his wife, but Bess could not see or feel him.

  “Is his soul still here? Hurry! Hurry!” said Bess. Her head swiveled madly, as she searched for what she could not see. “Is he still here? Has he crossed again?”

  Again? thought Alon. When had his father crossed the Ghost Road, and how had he managed to come back?

  “I can fly after him. I can stop him.”

  “He’s here, Mom. Right beside you.”

  His mother sagged, covering her face with her hands as she wept.

  Alon grasped their father’s soul and gently returned it to his mortal body.

  Cesar gasped and rose, like a man at the end of his endurance emerging from cold water. It frightened Alon, for he knew they were running out of time to save the others.

  His mother threw herself against Cesar, wrapping him in her arms as she wept. His father hugged his wife as she babbled.

  “You knew it from the start. You were right. They saved us all. Saved the Living World. We’ve won, Cesar. Our children defeated Nagi.”

  Cesar lifted his head to meet Alon’s gaze.

  “I’m so proud of you, son. I knew. I knew all along.”

  Alon felt his throat closing. How had he known? Why did his father have faith in him when every other member of Cesar’s people found the Ghost Children disturbing and dangerous?

  Alon rocked back on his heels, but before he could rise, his mother grabbed him in a fierce embrace. “Thank you for saving him. Thank you, son.”
/>   His father gently drew Bess back from Alon and smiled. “He has more to save, Mother. Let him go now.”

  His mother wiped her eyes. “I have to go, too. I have to fly to the Spirit World and turn back those who have not crossed.”

  His father helped his wife to her feet and waved goodbye as she shifted and flew straight up into the blue sky to join the other ravens.

  Cesar placed a hand on Alon’s shoulder. It was a trick of his father, to touch his neck while he asked a question. His father knew that Alon did not often say what was in his heart. But that never stopped his dad from knowing.

  “Is Samantha all right?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did you do it?”

  Alon did not bother to answer, for his father need only ask to know. His dad’s eyes widened.

  “He can’t kill you?”

  Alon shrugged. “He can. But he can’t tear out our souls.”

  “Why?”

  “I do not know.”

  “And you can harm him?”

  “A little.”

  Cesar looked across the field at the Ghostlings working furiously to retrieve lost souls. “His forces turned on him, as well. All of them?”

  “All that lived,” said Alon.

  Cesar patted his son’s shoulder. “You’ve done well. But there is more to do. I’ve got to go help Blake. And you have more souls to capture. I’ll bet they are dancing over the field like butterflies.”

  “Fireflies,” Alon corrected.

  “Don’t forget the humans.”

  “He did not take their souls. They lie there,” Alon pointed, “to the southwest.”

  Alon knew that his father could easily make the human victims of Nagi’s ghosts forget the horrors they had endured. Would his banishment and the stigma associated with Soul Whisperers keep the Spirit Children from accepting his help?

  He hoped not, for it would be their great loss.

  Alon worked throughout the long afternoon with the others of his race. Some of the injured had died before Nagi’s attack, and those souls could not be found. If they had crossed to the Spirit World, not even the ravens could turn them back.

  Those who were seriously injured were taken to the buffalo and bears for healing, and the humans were separated to an area where the Memory Walkers and Peacemakers worked to reformulate plausible explanations in the human’s memories. The Ghost Children finished with the souls turned back by the ravens and then gathered in the valley to count their dead. Tomorrow they would bury the fallen. As expected, the Ghost Children had suffered the greatest fatalities, though the Skinwalkers had lost many brave fighters. Only the Niyanoka were untouched by death this day.

  Shortly before sunset, the first of the ravens returned. Alon tried not to feel hurt when they landed across the field to the north in the Skinwalkers’ camp. All but one, which flew to them. His mother, he felt certain, seeking her husband.

  Where was Samantha? Back with her father? With Blake and her mother? Alon had saved her. That should be enough. He did not expect her thanks. He only wanted her safe and happy. He knew that for her to have those things, he must leave her.

  He had promised to protect her from Nagi. Nagi was gone. And Alon now understood his purpose. He was not destined to find lost or confused souls and help them cross to the Spirit World. That was the Seer’s job. He was not created to defend the humans. That was the role of the Spirit Children. And the Skinwalkers protected the Balance. His purpose, the purpose of all Ghost Children, was to protect the living world from Nagi and his evil ghosts, and when he died, he would face that special circle his father had promised to reserve for his traitorous children. Well, if that was the price for saving this world, then he would pay it.

  Until that day, he would hunt evil ghosts and force them to face the judgment they deserved, and he would seek others like him, for they must know how to defeat their father should he ever come again.

  It might be true that Alon had no soul, but it did not mean that he did not love this world.

  “Alon?”

  He glanced up to find his sister, now in her human form and dressed in a black skirt and an elegant, flowing black top. This was their mother’s signature color, so he did not have to ask where she had found clothing. She’d likely just returned to their parents’ trailer.

  “The others are all gathered. They say there is a Skinwalker wolf looking for you.”

  “Nicholas Chien?”

  She nodded. “He is coming.”

  Did he carry some message from Samantha? Alon tried not to let his heart leap with hope as he hurried along with Aldara.

  “Are you going back to her?” asked Aldara.

  Alon shook his head. “Are you going back to Blake?”

  “He’s ashamed of me.” She glanced away, twisting her index finger absently. “I offered my love. He doesn’t want it.”

  Alon glanced at her drawn face and then away again. His sister’s pain only amplified his own.

  “They are not for us. We are not like them,” he said.

  “But they are our soul mates.”

  His face felt tight as he held on through the gut punch of pain. He did not know how he managed the words, for they took more courage than the battle.

  “They can’t be. You heard Nagi. We’ll never cross.”

  “You still believe that? But we must have souls.” Her voice rang with pain and desperation.

  “Then why could Nagi not harvest them?”

  “But I saw some of our kind die today. We do die.”

  “Were any of the fallen restored?”

  Her eyes went wide.

  He hated what he had to say to her. “Did you see their souls?”

  Aldara fell silent then gave a shake of her head. “But the smoke and the dust. Perhaps...” Her words fell away and they stared at one another. Aldara’s pretty blue eyes filled with tears. “If we have no souls, then when we die, there will be nothing.”

  “Better that than the Circle.”

  “More reason to savor this Living World. More reason to seek some joy.”

  “Not if it keeps her from finding her true mate.”

  “But she fought beside you, right out in the open for everyone to see. She left her people to side with ours.”

  “She fought with us because she rightly believed that without our help the Skinwalkers and the Spirit Children would fail. She did not fight for us. She fought for the Balance.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Certain.”

  * * *

  Samantha’s body burned and her joints ached. Someone was carrying her. Then she was lying still on soft bedding, a blanket covering her. A kiss pressed to her forehead, his scent earthy and familiar.

  Her eyelids were so heavy she could not open them. She let herself sink back into darkness, escaping the pain.

  The chanting woke her. She knew the chant. Her father had taught her this one for the healing of wounds and fractures. She blinked her eyes open. Her head was turned to the side, so she saw the bloody gash on her shoulder closing. The battle came back to her in a rush. She sat up and found herself in the circle and Blake performing the healing ceremony.

  She scrambled to her feet and touched her cloak, finding that the energy to change the skin into jeans and a blouse was so taxing she swayed and toppled.

  Blake caught her elbow. “I told you to stay with our forces. God, Sammy, you almost bled to death.”

  Bled to death? She clutched her belly. The babies. Were they all right? She didn’t know, but the fear chilled the marrow of her bone.

  “Sammy? Lie down before you fall down. You look terrible!”

  She’d know, wouldn’t she, if she’d lost them? She crumpled back to the ground, dropping to her knees, one hand across her abdomen.

  “Alon?” she asked.

  “He dropped you here and went back to help the others. Retrieving souls.” Blake gave a shiver of revulsion.

  She rubbed her forehead, feeling dazed, as if
she’d been roused from a deep sleep. “What happened?”

  “Nagi almost won. Would have won if not for the Ghost Children. You were right, Sammy.”

  He told her all that had happened, assured her that their parents were safe. But many had died in the battle.

  “Alon turned all of Nagi’s forces to our side, and he and the others have worked all day to restore the lost souls, ours included. He even organized the order for restoration, commanding that the healers be saved first. Sammy, without him, we’d all be dead.”

  Samantha tried to take it in. She had known they couldn’t beat Nagi without the Ghost Children. But she had no idea how important they would be after the battle.

  Souls. She pressed a hand to her clammy forehead. Had he retrieved all the souls or just hers? Had he saved their babies or had their tiny spirits slipped away with the night mist?

  Samantha heaved. Blake rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’d better get Mom.”

  “Where is Alon?”

  “In the Ghostling camp.”

  She had to find him.

  “Samantha, we need your help. The injured.”

  All she wanted was to see Alon, to be certain that this was not what she thought, that he had only brought her to her family to be healed. But her heart clenched with rising dread. Had he abandoned her?

  “Dad sent Nicholas with an invitation to a treaty meeting. He has suggested that the three Halfling races sign an accord.”

  “The Spirit Children will never sign it,” said Samantha.

  “They might. They aren’t feeling so superior today. The Ghost Children frightened them before. Now they are terrified that they will rip out their souls.”

  “I have to see him.” She pushed off the ground, rising to her feet, but swayed and fell back down, her head spinning.

  “Sammy?”

  “Dizzy.” She closed her eyes and still felt as if the ground were swaying.

  “Because I can’t restore the blood loss. I can only fix what you still have. The buffalo are caring for the most grievously injured. Rest a bit. When you feel up to it, join us on the battlefield.” He released her hand and easily scooped her up, carrying her to a blanket beside rows of other Niyanoka. She closed her eyes against the dizziness and fear.