by Kat Zaccard
From the woods, a lone howl pierced the still winter sky, joined by another and another. We turned in a circle, boots crunching snow and dead leaves, following the rolling howls as they encircled us.
“That must be the day patrols,” Sara said in a hushed voice as she interlaced her fingers with Lola’s. The two had started dating shortly before winter break. Sara was pretty reserved, in general, so to see her display her affection was sweet. Lola beamed when Sara looked at her.
“How cool to turn wolf whenever you wanted,” wished Hayley with a nod to the Slivers who had saluted Sara’s song.
“How cool they heard your amazing song,” I said to Sara, who flushed crimson but smiled broadly. That set off another round of congratulations, then we resumed our hike through the woods and worked our way higher into the foothills.
The looming peaks of the mountain range made me wonder aloud, “Do those mountain peaks that surround the valley have names? I mean, I know they’re part of the Rocky Mountain range,” I added to not sound too ignorant of my local surroundings.
Sara laughed. “You mean, you haven’t heard the legend of the Wanderer?”
I shook my head and motioned for her to proceed. The one class Sara loved was history, but for me, it was hard to distinguish between werewolf history and mythology.
Sara went on. “As you know, Mount Henley resides in a very remote, nearly unpopulated area of the Rocky Mountain range. Further south is the National Park Yoho, meaning ‘Awe’ in Cree. They have a legend of those three mountain peaks called the Three Sisters. What they don’t know is that Mount Henley has a similar legend of the three women, a mother and two daughters, that might have been borrowed by our southern neighbors. Our story goes a little differently. According to an old Squamish tradition, the Creator sent three brothers into the world with great power. The people of the land called them the Transformers, for they had the power to transform anyone into anything they wished.”
Hayley robotically sing-songed, “They’re more than meets the eye,” and I snorted a laugh, then shushed her to hear the story.
Lola glared at Hayley and motioned for Sara to continue. “There are many tales of the three brothers’ adventures, but the one we are interested in took place here on this mountain range. The story goes that the middle brother, known as the Wanderer, left his brothers to explore the interior of this land. The area was uninhabited by people and only populated by grizzly bears and wolves.
“Some say he turned rocks into plants and creatures as he made his way through the inhospitable landscape, pulling up dogwood, tiger lilies, and skunk wood. As he wandered, he transformed the barren wasteland into the beautiful landscape we see today. Along his travels, he came upon a small group of people that, by all accounts, were not supposed to be there, yet there they were.
“This small village was very hungry and bereft. Several of their children had gone missing and they feared the bears or wolves had taken them. Still, they offered the wanderer a meal and a tent to sleep in that night. The Wanderer was grateful for the company, having had none prior to meeting the small tribe. That night, as the fires burned low, a creature crept into the camp and seized the chief’s daughter. According to legend, the beast clamped her throat in its jaws and took off on all four limbs, dragging the dying girl away. The chief, her mother, beat at her breast and tore her hair and vowed vengeance on the demon that had stolen her daughter.
“The people roused and gathered their weapons to track the creature. They followed the tracks through the woods until they disappeared completely. Even the drops of blood had disappeared. No footsteps to be seen, the snow smooth and untouched. Confused and angry, the people returned to camp and demanded the Wanderer explain his purpose. Had he led the monster to them? The Wanderer was annoyed by these accusations and in turn accused the chief of being an ungracious hostess to a poor wanderer. The chief knew the creature was too dangerous to fight alone and begged the Wanderer to help her hunt down and kill it. The Wanderer agreed, but perhaps his ire had not settled or it was always his nature to be a trickster, for he had not revealed his plan. He transformed the people into wolves so they could hunt the creature as a pack and bring their princess home.”
I gasped, and Hayley punched my shoulder. We were all caught up in the tale. Sara, green eyes twinkling, passionately continued.
“That night, the wolf pack hunted the mountain range, howling in anger as their quarry continued to evade them. Finally, after a week of pursuit, they caught sight of the beast heading across a plain. But he was no longer alone. The young princess was with him. Her eyes had turned black, and her skin as pale as the moon. The chief turned back into a human, approached her daughter, and begged her to cast off the demon’s hold on her. The daughter approached her mother, repentant and mournful. Just as they were about to embrace, the daughter attacked her mother, biting her throat and spilling her blood over the fresh snow. The wolves of her pack howled in despair, unsure if they should attack, given that the cold monster was now technically their chief. The daughter turned a circle to survey the pack, the plain, and the cold monster beside her. The monster’s impassive face hardened her heart, and she lunged for the wolves, killing one after another. The Wanderer intervened. He grabbed the daughter by the throat and held her aloft. He turned the slaughtered wolves back into their human counterparts, revealing the princess’s own mother and younger sisters, bloodied and lifeless in the snow.
“The princess howled and laughed and clawed at the Wanderer, creating great scratches that flowed blood down his arm. Disgusted by her inhumanity, he cast the princess to the ground, transforming her into a river, so that her blood would flow and saturate the infertile land. The three fallen tribeswomen—the mother chief and her two dead daughters—were all transformed into these mountain peaks we see here. The largest in the middle is the chief, while her two daughters flank on either side. The remaining wolf pack ran off in fear before the Wanderer had time to turn them back into humans, and the upyr disappeared in the melee before the Wanderer could attack.”
“Upyr?” I interrupted.
“Shh!” scolded Lola.
“The cold monster is like the Russian tales of the upyr,” whispered Hayley. “They have different names, but similar creatures exist in the mythologies of most werewolf cultures.”
“Anyway,” continued Sara, “disgusted by the outcome, the Wanderer cornered the wolves and charged them with the duty to hunt and kill the monster. He transformed them back into humans and vowed that three nights a month, when the night was bright enough to hunt, they would shift back into wolves to hunt the upyr until they’d avenged their fallen chief and princesses. The river that flowed created a bountiful lake nearby that filled with salmon. However, no one dared fish in the lake. The people knew that the fish were the spirits of their fallen tribesmen, killed in the fight against the upyr. But the valley grew fertile and majestic in the shadow of the three mountains that protected the wolf pack from all other men and beasts, and still does to this day.”
“Wow,” I said with awe. “If you taught history, I might actually pay attention! What happened after that? Did they ever catch the upyr?”
Sara laughed. “Come on, Alice, it’s just a story to explain how we conquered the land to live in this cold, remote environment. The upyr is winter, nothing more.”
“But, we’re wolves! Couldn’t there be some truth to the legend, since there is truth in that?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” laughed Hayley. “You Americans are just crazy for vampires! There’s no Edward here to save you or to attack you!” The girls all laughed, and I fell silent. How could I tell them the legend might be more real than they thought? The council had confirmed that upyr were real. But I was sworn to secrecy. Could I tell them the truth?
Something else about that story shook loose a memory I’d forgotten to share with Shea. The young girl I’d seen in the snow at the palace. Her skin had been so pale and her eyes so dark I couldn’t distinguish the pupi
l from the iris. She had held a bloody rabbit. I shivered. Could upyr already be in the Americas, and might I have seen one? That girl in the snow had smelled wrong. She wasn’t a werewolf, and really, would a human be that far in the wilderness? It hadn’t occurred to me at the time how unusual her presence had been. But the legend left a chill crawling up my spine and a sense that the story was more familiar than I wanted to admit.
Upyr were only supposed to be in Russia, according to the council. I wasn’t sure what I’d seen. Regardless, I wasn’t about to lose the few friends I had with my own crazy theories. I wanted desperately to tell them the upyr were real, but I’d been sworn to secrecy under the threat that I might destabilize my position in the pack. I was frustrated by my supposedly powerful position that merely left me caught between a rock and a hard place.
We soon decided to turn back; the cold had started to creep in, and dark clouds threatened the return of rain, sleet, and snow. We made it back to the grounds before the storm hit, but we were drenched as we passed through the garden and into the Artemis dorm. After I left my friends, I showered and sat by my window, looking out into the moonless night and imagining a great warrior chief, leader of her people, who sacrificed her life to try to save her daughters. She’d failed to save her family, but she had saved her people, even if she’d lost herself in the process.
Chapter 18
Classes resumed, as did my renewed desire to train and learn martial arts. Hayley was always happy to spend time on the mat, working on grabs and throws. I also resumed training with Kulani and Jack whenever I could sneak away. My conversation with Duke Aleksandr at the palace had renewed my desire to be a warrior princess and a worthy queen. I still wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but I was starting to accept the reality of the crown. After learning about my father’s murder, I knew I couldn’t just walk away from the crown, even if that meant I had to deal with Logan.
Shea had been furious when I told her what Logan had said on the last day at the palace. I’d seen him around campus, but we avoided each other. I wasn’t even going to pretend anymore. There wasn’t a real connection between us, and I had to stop forcing one. I didn’t like the girl I’d become in his presence last semester. I was determined to be true to myself from now on.
One evening at Jack and Kulani’s cabin, I filled them in on my meeting with Pierre. Jack had been silent throughout the tale, but gasped audibly when I recounted my father’s murder.
“I knew it,” he exclaimed angrily. Kulani calmed him down to prevent him from hightailing it directly to the palace to demand answers from Pierre.
I cautioned that he might spook easy. “After all, he’s been hiding from my father’s murderers for sixteen years.”
“You’re right,” reasoned Kulani. “Let’s wait to see what new information he might bring us. If he can find the midwife and confirm your mother’s murder…” Kulani trailed off, looking sad.
She pulled me into an unexpected hug. “This must be so hard for you.”
I hugged her back, grateful, then pulled away. “We have to keep looking for answers. And in the meantime, I have to learn to protect myself.”
Jack and Kulani agreed, and my secret training with them increased. Now that I wasn’t worried about spending time with Logan, I had more free time to work on myself. Shea and Adam had been attached at the hip, since the three weeks apart over winter break had felt like forever, according to Shea. It was sweet to see them together. I was a little bit lonely, not having Logan to distract me, but I threw myself into training. Hayley was thrilled to have a new sparring partner since Sara was often too busy to train, now that she and Lola were an item.
One winter afternoon, on the eve of the full moon, Jack led me to an unfamiliar outbuilding on the south side of the groomed property. Kulani had stayed behind with the promise of pumpkin pie when we got back. The building blended into the forest nicely, chimney smoke wafting up into the steely cold sky. The evergreens surrounding it were laden with snow, leaning into the cabin in a friendly way.
“This is the patrols’ main headquarters for our scouting and defense unit,” he explained as he led me past the wooden porch and into a small cabin. There were a few other Weres inside, one of whom I recognized.
“Hey, Diego.” I smiled. His dark wavy hair was longer than I remembered.
He glanced over and looked surprised. “Your Highness,” he said formally as he stood and bowed, then turned to look askance at Jack.
By then, the rest of the group had stopped chatting and were surreptitiously or overtly staring at me. I felt my cheeks redden but held my head high and kept my features neutral.
“Yes, well, most of you know, but allow me to present Her Royal Highness, Princess Alice of the Royal Clan Luna, heir to the throne.” He cleared his throat, then continued in a less official voice, “Our young Princess, here, is to be our leader and needs practice leading. Therefore, she will join our scouting rounds near full moons—”
Jack was cut off by protests of dismay and surprise. Only Diego was silent and looked at me thoughtfully. I shrugged at him and turned my attention back to Jack.
“Yes, Olaf, she will.” Jack was admonishing an older-looking wolf who had apparently said something about protecting me, not training me. Others were voicing concerns about a student on patrol, let alone a royal one.
“Hey, what do you have against royals, Lars?” laughed a younger man in the corner, to which Lars, presumably, replied, “Not a thing, Sir Henry, not one thing,” which earned some laughs. Lars was a giant Viking of a man, maybe mid-forties, with a bushy blond beard and short, reddish hair. His companion, Sir Henry, was older than Diego, but younger than the rest of the patrols there. He had light brown hair and chiseled features. He must have been a royal, given the title. I didn’t recognize him, but I wouldn’t soon forget the handsome face and twinkling blue eyes.
Jack whistled sharply, and the Weres fell silent at once. “I realize this may be a little unorthodox and unusual for many of you.” He looked pointedly at a few of the older werewolves. “But I expect you to treat the princess like any other new recruit. She has talent or she wouldn’t be here. We need more patrols, and she needs to learn.”
There were a few more nods of approval, especially from the women. Diego grinned and gave me a thumbs-up. And I noticed Sequoya’s mom, Melinda, smile at me, as well.
I smiled nervously at the group. A werewoman in back nodded encouragingly at me. “Please, let me assure you that I am not here for a photo op or any other pretense,” I said. “If I am to lead, I must be a leader, and to be a leader, I must first learn to follow. It’s an honor to join the patrols at the bottom tier, just as any new recruit would do. The only allowance I ask is that my scouting schedule accommodates my class schedule and the moon.”
I smiled at their nods of approval. Even Olaf looked impressed. I had guessed correctly, then: They were used to an image of royalty that Jillian had tried to adopt. I wasn’t looking to slack off and look good while others did the work; I was ready to train and train hard.
My only regret was keeping my ability to shift at will a secret. I wanted to prove myself to the Slivers, but I had to pretend I could only shift five days under moon. Part of me wanted to show off my skill anyway, but I had been warned by everyone who knew my secret that it was not normal and would put me at even greater risk. If the Queen Regent knew of my special skill, let alone my alpha telepathy, I would be a bigger threat than ever to her throne. My safety depended on her belief that I was weak and ignorant. Jack’s reaction was more than enough to keep me quiet, and he had promised to extend my wolf training days as quickly as believable to the populace at large. By summer, it wouldn’t be that unlikely for me to be able to shift on the day before and after the three days of the full moon. That was something to look forward to.
Jack had been outlining schedule changes and was now divvying us into groups of three to run patrols. I asked the werewoman next to me why Kulani wasn’t running tonight. She smil
ed back at me. “Jack and Kulani have to run opposite patrols. They’re so gaga for each other, they’d likely break a leg or run off a cliff watching each other instead of their footing.” The woman laughed good-naturedly. “I’m Becky, by the way. Always happy to have another werewoman on patrol.” I smiled my appreciation and turned my attention back to Jack. I was paired up with Olaf and Diego. This should be interesting.
After Jack left, Olaf rounded on me. “All right, Your Royal Highness, if you want to stay here and hold down the fort, we’ll run a perimeter check—”
“No, Olaf. With all due respect, I am not ‘Her Royal Highness’ here. I am a scout like any other. I am to be treated like any novice recruit. I have to know what it takes to protect my kingdom at all levels if I’m ever to rule effectively.”
Diego smiled while Olaf sputtered, apparently torn about how to respond. Diego said to me, “On the one hand, he wants to yell at you for insolence; on the other, he wants to throw you back in a litter and carry you to the manor.” He smiled again at Olaf, and Olaf scowled in return.
Jack returned from doling out duties to the other groups. “C’mon, Olaf. Give her a chance. She won’t let you down.”
Olaf looked disgruntled, but beaten. “All right, Lassie. I can’t go both ways, so when you’re my scout, you leave your crown at the door, and you swear to me here and now in front of witnesses that I am absolved from any future punishment for treating you like any other pup.” He looked simultaneously threatening and frightened by his own gall.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Olaf.” I saluted him, then changed into my wolf and trotted to the door.
