The Rising Azimuth
Page 11
Osmund took a moment and swallowed hard, “So be it. I grant you permission, along with Colleen McCarthy to visit our wolf brothers in Scandinavia.” The crowd went wild while Osmund hissed in Colin’s ear, “I better not ever see you again, this bullshit dream of yours cost you everything, your Dad, your clan, everything. I hope it was worth it.” Osmund crushed Colin’s shoulder with his hand, breaking his arm. Colin clinched his jaw in pain.
Osmund left the hill and the clan celebrated around the wounded Colin; he would remember this moment for the rest of his life.
Chapter 13
“Sleep good, you beautiful boy,” Veronika whispered into her lover’s ear.
She kissed him gently on the lips, moved his arm off of her body and on to his own gently. She slipped from the thin sheet and off the ratty mattress. She collected her panties from the floor, discarded in haste an hour ago. After pulling them on, she picked up her jeans from nearby and fished out her cigarettes. She tossed her jeans over the discolored table in the corner. She went to the door and opened it. The cool night air caressed her. It wasn’t like home, but it was invigorating after an exhausting week. Killing what’s his name, tracking down a new what’s his name. Scraping together cash from stolen cars and unlucky travelers to pay for shithole motels on quiet highways was starting to tire her out. Tomorrow would bring more tiredness.
Veronika was going to teach her new weapon what kind of weapon he could be. More importantly, she was going to teach him what kind of weapon she needed him to be. “Fuck those bastards back home,” she thought. She grabbed the top of the door frame and stretched her petite human body. Her muscles tingled and her elbow joints popped. She lit the cigarette and took a few drags as she looked out into the paved parking lot in the center of the U shaped lodge. Neon pink bathed her skin from the oversized sign overhead. The cigarette helped her stress. She could almost taste her revenge.
She would craft this beautiful lanky Indian boy into a spear. He belonged to her now and she would exhaust him like he exhausted her. His eyes always said to her, “take care of me.” It was exhausting to fake caring all the time.
By the time they reached her home in Boston, he would be made into a strong weapon to strike the heart out of her Viking brothers and sisters. She will cut away their souls for their crimes against her. She wanted to skin them alive and obliterate them from her lands.
She took another drag of the half-finished cigarette. She looked over her shoulder as she leaned against the doorway; her pretty boy was still sleeping. “Rest well, my spear. You’ll need it.” She tossed the cigarette away without another puff, closed the door and slipped back into bed. She snuggled up into his tan chest and fell fast asleep.
***
Colin examined the airline ticket Mr. Nygaard had purchased him. Next week, he was jetting off to a new country, a new world. Everything was changing, his whole life upended in one glorious night.
The biggest change was his social calendar. Everyone wanted to spend time with him. Juliet called and left a dozen messages, even before he got home from the Rise. The first call he personally answered was from Rosaline O’Rinn, Juliet’s sister. She sounded rushed and wanted to know if he loved Juliet or was her sister making it up. Both sisters adopted the same aggressive conversation style. Before Colin could answer, a second girl screamed at her. Colin heard fighting noises and growling then the line went dead.
Brian Riley, Ryan’s dad, called to set-up a dinner in Colin’s honor. He was the man of the moment, everyone wanted to talk to him. Even Colleen called to schedule a dinner. It was delivered in a terse, cold manner which left no question of when he would arrive, how he was to act, and what he was to wear.
At the moment he stood alone in his cramped room on the first floor of his family’s apartment. The two-bedroom home was shared by him, his father, and Alby, who slept on a recliner in the front room. He liked to sleep while listening to the television, usually old war movies or American westerns.
Colin placed the ticket on his nightstand and started looking through his clothes for something appropriate for the McCarthy’s. After a few frustrating minutes, he realized he needed new clothes. Without thinking, he grabbed the phone and dialed the McCarthy’s and asked for Colleen. She picked up the receiver after an incredibly long wait.
“Colleen, I don’t think I have any clothes for your grandmother’s dinner. Could you help me out?“
“Call someone who cares,” she said and hung up.
Colin was stunned by her response and his own stupidity; he should never have called her. The bond he was starting to feel with his clan apparently wasn’t quite there yet with Colleen. The only people who cared about him were his dad and granddad, and they knew less about clothes than he did.
“Cares, who else cares about me?” he asked out loud. He thought about the Rise and the only other person who acted like she cared was Mandy.
He reached for the phone and hesitated. What would he say? How would she react? Would she treat him like Colleen did? Would she laugh? All of these thoughts were banished when he remembered, he had to do this. To prove Osmund wrong, to save the clan, make his father proud, and prove to himself he could.
The phone rang and Mandy picked up, Colin stammered and stuttered about why he was calling and how badly calling the McCarthy’s went, he mentioned his feeling about not knowing anything about clothes. He was still rambling when Mandy’s sweet voice interrupted, “What do you need from me?“
“Could you help me shop for new clothes?“
“Sure, when?” she responded as if this was the easiest request ever made.
“Um, I have a dinner tonight. Could we do it tomorrow?” he asked.
“Okay, I’ll meet you at the Spike at noon. We’ll grab some food and then go shopping.“
“Thanks. See you at noon.” Colin hung up the phone. He had asked out a girl on a date. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. It almost seemed as if she did most of the work.
He would visit the Riley’s tonight. Spend Sunday with Mandy shopping, Thursday with the Dalys, Friday with the O’Rinns and Saturday at the McCarthys. His calendar was packed for the first time ever and after all these meetings he was off to Stockholm to meet Mr. Nygaard’s daughter.
***
Joseph and Veronika stood looking at each other in the dense woods north of Albany. Veronika had driven them north to Buffalo, then east. He still wasn’t sure where they were heading. The newly stolen yellow Rav4 was hidden behind the trees.
Veronika spoke to him like a drill sergeant, “You’re a werewolf, and you are stronger than normal humans, faster too. All wolves can do some of the same things, like tracking. You probably thought you were a good tracker because you’re Indian, but it’s because you’re a werewolf. Close your eyes and smell me.“
Joseph closed his eyes. He wanted to show Veronika he was worthy. At first, he could only smell Veronika’s hair and the soap she used this morning. But under her soap, he smelled a distinct wolf signature of holly, cold, and blood. The odor was scary and exciting, it fit her. He breathed in absorbing her scent, learning it. From this moment he would always smell it when she was near.
She continued briskly, “A werewolf has three forms, four if you count the dream form. One, obviously, is the human form like we stand now. Another is the wolf form, like a wolf you see in the woods. The wolf form is the most animal and hardest to morph into, also the hardest to control and the hardest to switch back from. The easiest and most useful is the Were form. We’ll start there.“
Veronika took a step back and slid out of her human form and grew into a trim, tall monster. Joseph jumped back. Her head was large but delicate somehow. Her eyes still showed human emotions. Her muscles were toned; she was lean and built for speed, not strength. Her hair was completely white, like her dream form. She spoke, her voice had more timbre. “Now you. Imagine your human side on the inside and a werewolf on the outside. Let’s see what you’ve got.“
Joseph t
ried to imagine a werewolf, but he couldn’t picture it. He didn’t want to be a monster; he wanted to stay a simple Indian who made his grandfather happy. “Focus!” Veronika barked. “See the fur, the arms, the chest, the legs of a werewolf and it will happen. Concentrate on one aspect.” Joseph cleared his mind and focused. He closed his eyes and visualized his little toe, the smallest simplest thing. He imagined a werewolf toe, hairy with a long nail. He started imagining his whole foot with five claw-like nails and imagined them digging through the earth. Without moving from the spot, he slipped backward falling out of his human flesh up into an impressive beast. He was taller than Veronika and lean, also built for speed. He had stronger shoulders and arms than her, but his legs and waist were trim. He was covered in dark grey fur with white tuffs at his knees and elbows; his head was more masculine. His eyes were more wolf than human. His former human shell melted away like water. Veronika didn’t show any reaction. She seemed content.
“Okay now just do the reverse.” Veronika continued.
Joseph took a moment, looked down and imagined his human feet where his werewolf feet stood. He morphed back down, with the same falling feeling into the Native American teenager, his Were form turning to dust and falling to the ground. He stood naked in front of a white werewolf who looked hungry. Joseph put up his hands palms out. The white beast started to bubble and the Were dissolved like acid revealing his blond Swedish angel.
She was all business today, “Now you need to tell me how you first changed.“
“I…I just changed,” he lied.
“Bullshit,” she barked, “Everyone’s first change is forced, most Weres call this the Shatter; this can be a weakness or a strength. When the same emotion happens again, the change will be easier, but also automatic. Most can fight off the automatic nature of the change but it takes real control. For example, some wolves are beaten until they change, so when they experience pain they morph.“
“I don’t want to say.“
“Come on, my luv,” she cooed, wiggling her nakedness in front of him. “After what we did last night, do you really think there are secrets between us?”
Joseph blushed. He was completely smitten and blurted out the story, “I was dreaming about a big wolf, me, and I chased down a buffalo, biting its head clean off. Later, I found my grandfather dead the exact same way as the buffalo. I felt so guilty, I ran. That’s when I changed.“
Joseph put his head down in shame, Veronika smiled as she embraced him in a hug. She hid her joy then took his head and forced him to look into her eyes, “You are very special and I’m going to teach you things you won’t believe. Do you want to go back to the car or do you want to learn more?“
Joseph was finally getting what he wanted; information. And with knowledge came control, and with control came power. He was already viewing the world differently. He was also viewing himself differently and all because of this amazing woman. He had to learn more.
“I’m ready.”
***
After changing from human to Were form and back, which Veronika called Reverting, for the better part of an hour Joseph could change in an instant. They were still completely naked in the woods, it felt natural now.
“This is different than the Were form. You must surrender to your inner beast and accept everything the animal does. Most werewolves are afraid to surrender and can’t change; this makes them weaker because they only use two forms, not three. Some clans don’t even try to teach ‘accessing’ the wolf,” explained Veronika.
“Other clans?” Joseph jumped on that word ‘clan’ again.
“Not important, just focus on the wolf from your dream and surrender to it. Allow the animal inside to control everything about you.“
Worried, “How do I get back to myself if I surrender?” Joseph asked.
“Fight,” Veronika answered simply.
Joseph remembered how he surrendered to the wolf in the dream and saw through the wolf’s eyes. He tried to recreate the same thing and was rewarded quickly. He was the wolf. He accepted the idea and it happened in reality. He was humongous, not ridiculous like the dream wolf, but four times the size of a grey wolf. He weighed over four hundred pounds. When he craned his head down he saw his paws were the size of small pizzas. Veronika hopped up and down from excitement. Joseph was happy he had made her so happy. He wished wolves could smile.
The wolf took over from Joseph and wanted to run and so it did. He bolted away from the clearing. Veronika changed in a blink and raced after him. He could smell her scent, blood and cold coming up fast. The wolf inside wasn’t trying to escape but he didn’t want to be caught yet. She needed to work for it, so did his wolf. Joseph had to dart between trees often because of his size and so the much smaller white wolf caught up fairly quickly. They raced through the newly green trees of spring together. The chase was hypnotic. Joseph let the wolf mind take over so all of his human worries, fears, and concerns disappeared. Only the running mattered and maybe his stomach, hunger was forward in his mind and his nose smelled a deer nearby. The chase between Veronika and Joseph became a hunt. The wolf enjoyed the hunt but with two large efficient killers like them, they caught and feasted on the young deer easily. The meal was the best thing he had ever eaten. But as the wolf started chewing through the innards and guts of the deer, Joseph’s human side emerged with a feeling of disgust. He fought against the wolf side, but it wasn’t like a fist fight or wrestling, it was like driving deep into water and clawing to the surface. His lungs burned and he didn’t know how far he had to struggle. After a few desperate seconds, he burst from the wolf and stood human again. Veronika followed his lead and they attacked each other with raw animal desire. Both surrendered to animal instinct and were lost together in the forest.
Chapter 14
The day after Tamara came to the house to ‘talk’ little changed at the office. Both Nuri and Tamara decided for the next couple of weeks, during all the protocols, everything would be the same as the first. Tamara would act as leader and aunt showing off, Nuri, the naïve new Were. Every Rite of Passage was performed the same, with must less party or no party afterward. After half a dozen rituals they seemed ordinary and not worthy of the importance Nuri first put on them. “With repetition comes commonality,” stated Justine after meeting with the Slovakians, who were passing through. All the other groups: from Romania, Hungry, Bulgaria, and Ukraine were in Krakow to meet the new sister.
The following morning after each rite, Tamara would talk with Nuri about who they met and how they fit into Amazon hierarchy. Nuri picked up relationships and power politics fast; she had a knack for it. Tamara’s experience was the cherry on top. Nuri started to see the fractures and personalities which might help or hinder her cause. It was fun seeing what others couldn’t.
“Next weekend we could have a different meeting sister,” Tamara explained. “Instead of a simple Rite of Passage, I have been requested to participate at a ‘Rite of Judgement.’ I received this today, should we accept?“
Nuri enjoyed the dialogue back n forth with her aunt, except for the random subconscious tugs at her. They could be forceful and hard to control. It felt ancient, instinctual, feral. So far today nothing was tugging her to fight her aunt.
“What do you think?” Tamara asked abruptly bringing Nuri back, who felt a little angry tug.
“I don’t know. What’s a Rite of Judgement?“
“Come on sister, I’ve explained this already. A ‘Rite of Judgement’ happens when two Duchesses have a disagreement they can’t solve and need another, outsider, to decide. It can also happen when the Duchess of a region is too conflicted to make a sound judgment. This is how we settle conflicts before they become violent. Got it, niece. I’m not here to listen to my own voice.“
“Sorry Auntie, you’re right. What is this judgment about?“
Frustrated, Tamara answered, “I don’t know, that’s the point. Proper judgement can only be handed down from someone with no knowledge or stake in the ou
tcome.“
“Could we find out?” Nuri asked.
Tamara smiled, “Now you’re getting it. If we had more time, we might. Unfortunately, no fucking luck this time. We have to go in blind.“
“Do we know who the rite is for?“
“It is between the Duchess of Zilina in Slovakia and Ostrava in the Czech Republic.“
“Do you think it’s a test?” Nuri asked fairly sure it was.
“It doesn’t matter what I think, what do you think?” Tamara countered.
“It’s a test,” Nuri said with confidence.
“Of course it’s a fucking test,” Tamara growled.
Instinctively, Nuri growled and bared her teeth. They both looked at each other, teeth bared, growling. Tamara broke first and started laughing. Nuri understood the ridiculousness of two grown women behaving like this and also laughed.
“I’m sorry, Nuri. Letting go of leadership hasn’t been easy,” her aunt apologized.
Nuri moved around the desk and hugged her Were sister, “It’s weird, this struggle between us makes me feel closer to you than ever before. When I was a child, you seemed so foreign. You weren’t my mother or my friend. When you tested me a few weeks ago, you became an alien to me. I didn’t understand you or me or anything. But now fighting this invisible desire for power and control makes us stronger than sisters. I understand you better and I understand me a lot better too.“
“You are doing great and I’m very proud, even if I’m a bit short with you,” her aunt responded.
Nuri got solemn, “We both know where our actions are taking us and we both know what must happen.” Nuri nodded her head, and Tamara mirrored her. “Good, let’s pass some judgment, pass a test, and move on to more important things,” Nuri said.