by Jaya Moon
It didn’t take long to reach the small huts and treehouses high in the canopy. Tareese remained silent, although she glanced back at me from time to time to smile reassuringly. When we arrived at the lodge, she walked along the face of it to the side of the building where wide stone steps led down the slope into the forest. Halfway we reached a door leading to beneath the lodge.
“We have a lot of guests at the Eyrie. It can become…” She laughed softly to herself. “…crowded. This is where Dore, Feolyn, and I seek refuge from the complications of the life we now lead.”
The door arced inward, creaking on its hinges when Tareese pushed it, and she ushered me inside. I stepped into a small living area. Beyond another open door I saw a kitchen, and on the other side of the room a hall led to, I gathered, bedrooms. One wall was panes of what looked like brindled sap, which let in light but blurred the forest beyond. The residence had a warmth to it that reminded me of the house I’d grown up in.
“Make yourself comfortable. Would you like something to drink? I have dried herbs for tea.”
“Water’s fine,” I replied as I perched on the edge of a sofa with a knotted timber frame.
“An easy guest. I like those.” She went into the kitchen. “There will, of course, be plenty of food and drinks upstairs,” she called out as I watched her come and go through the frame of the doorway. “We like to feast before we go to the glade.” She returned with two glasses of water, handed me one, and sat on the other end of the sofa and sipped at hers.
I welcomed her casual conversation. It was the escape I needed from all the confusion swirling in my mind. “Fe mentioned the glade. I don’t really understand about tonight. Why do you get dressed up?”
She smiled. “Tonight is the night we remember those kin who have passed. Long ago we wore their faces, so to speak; masks we fashioned in their likeness. It was our way of honoring them. As time has gone on, the masks have become something we try to have fun with, especially in difficult times like these when there are too many faces of the dead we would have to choose from. We wear the faces of animals that, I guess you might say, we would be if we had a choice in such things.” She chuckled to herself. “Although why Feolyn would choose a raccoon out of all the animals in this world, I don’t know. As for the glade, it’s a place we go to connect with each other and also those who have passed. We gather and eat wearing the faces of others, and then we go to the glade. I would gladly tell you more about it, but it’s sacred to the kin. Tonight, when we go you’ll stay here with Mox.”
I wanted to ask if they’d given Mox the task to watch over me because Tallow would join all the other kin at the glade, or wasn’t he coming to the Eyrie at all? I needed to talk to him, even more so after what his father had said.
“I’m glad you’ve come,” Tareese continued. “I’ve wanted to thank you.” Her eyes became glassy with tears. “We live in dangerous times, and many have been lost. That you saved Tallow without knowing what he truly was…” She put her hands to her breast. “My gratitude is vast.”
“He doesn’t want me here.” I hadn’t meant to say it aloud.
“I think it’s important you don’t mistake what he is compelled to do with how he feels about you. They are two very different things.”
“Compelled?” All he seemed compelled to do was push me away.
“You see us—see Tallow—in human form, and perhaps you think him human. He is that in body, mind, and heart like any human man, but those parts are bound to the animal kingdom too, and that means he possesses an animal’s instincts. Think of, say, a pack of wolves—males of the pack and bitches with pups. If you stumbled across those bitches and pups in the forest, what would the males of the pack do?”
“Protect the bitches and the pups.”
“Yes, they would. And die to protect them if that’s what it took. This is instinct. You may think Tallow’s desire to protect you and the way he goes about it is unkind and cruel, even pigheaded, but he doesn’t intend it that way. There’s no intent at all. He’s guided by his animal instinct to do anything and everything to protect you. It’s not something he chooses. It’s something he is whether he wants to be or not.”
As Tareese spoke, the way Tallow behaved began to make sense to me—why he blew hot and cold. It wasn’t that he didn’t want me. I knew he did. I’d seen it in the way he’d looked up at me the night before as he’d lay on my floor, heard it in his suggestion to take me to his lodge. It had to be his animal instinct that made him push me away because he thought that would keep me out of danger, despite his human heart wanting something different. At least I now understood why he got so angry with me all the time. The way he probably saw it, everything I did made his instinctual need to protect me impossible.
“And then there is the matter of lifemates he contends with.”
“Lifemates?”
“These are the ones we’re destined to be with. For kin, there is a connection formed when they meet their lifemate. I suppose you could describe it as a tether between two. Not one that binds you unwillingly. One that binds you so you don’t lose each other. It tugs when you drift apart, it pulls you back together when you think there is no hope. A reminder you’re meant to be with one another. For you, the feeling may be as simple as still wanting to be with him despite his rejections .”
“A tether?” Was that why I wanted to be with Tallow even when I thought he was a jerk? Any other man and I would have walked away, but I persisted with Tallow. Was I drawn to him in the same way he was drawn to me because of this tether?
“Is that why he was following me? Because he can’t stay away?”
“Can’t and also doesn’t want to. There is both kin and human emotions at play.”
“Why didn’t he tell me all this from the start? Why push me away and make me think he doesn’t care?” If I’d known everything I now knew I would have dealt with things differently, been a little more understanding.
“Because you’re not the only one he’s protecting.”
“Who else is he protecting?”
“Why, himself, of course. The thought that being part of his world might get you killed is something he can’t bear—neither the part of him that is a man nor the part that is beast.”
“Oh.” A lump began to form in my throat.
“He may break your heart with what he does, but he also breaks his own.”
“What happens if I don’t want to be protected? What if I…”
…wanted him to take a chance, risk everything and show me what lay in his human heart without his animal instinct getting in the way? What would that Tallow be like?
Tareese smiled warmly. “When you see him, tell him. I can’t promise you it will make a difference, but thoughts spoken in silence to others are never heard.”
The last bitter words I’d said to Tallow in my apartment came back to me. Him being so cold had hurt me more than I’d wanted it to or should have let it. But if what Tareese said was true, how badly had I hurt him?
I put my face in my hands as hot tears fell, and my chest tightened with regret. Seconds later, I felt the sofa sag as Tareese sat beside me. She put her arm around my shoulders and pulled me into her as sobs escaped my mouth.
It felt like a long time before I drew away from Tareese, and as I did she gave me a sympathetic smile. “If you prefer not to go upstairs, you’re more than welcome to stay here, or I can find you somewhere where you can be alone. I’m happy to make excuses for you.”
In any other circumstance I might have taken her up on the offer. After little sleep the night before, being on the go for most of the day, facing Dore, and realizing I’d been hating Tallow when maybe I shouldn’t have been, the prospect of curling up and sleeping appealed to me. But my conversation with Tareese made me desperate to see Tallow. Now that I understood why he acted the way he did, there might be a way for us to at least talk without it deteriorating into an argument.
“It’s all right. I’d like to go.”
Tareese let out a relieved sigh. “Thank the Ancestors! Telling Dore would be one thing. Telling Feolyn would be another.”
I laughed. It was easy to imagine if I didn’t make an appearance Fe would hunt me down and insist I join the gathering because my absence was ruining her night.
“So I have this for you.” Tareese went over to a sofa chair and held up a robe similar to what she wore. It was a beautiful emerald-green with a thick sash. “We wear robes mostly for convenience. All who come here usually arrive in their animal form. The robes are an easy fit for most body types. They’re also a way to reflect the equality of all those who come to the Eyrie. Of course, you’re welcome to wear something you’ve brought with you. Your bag is here.” She nodded to a corner of the room and I saw my pack on the floor.
I thought about the few pieces of clothing I’d stuffed into it before leaving my apartment. I wasn’t going to blend in wearing anything I’d brought or the jeans and shirt I already had on. “I’ll take the robe, thank you.”
“And Feolyn chose this for you.” Tareese removed the lid from a wooden box resting on the seat and pulled something out. Staring at me was the most beautiful mask I’d ever seen, or maybe I thought that because I recognized the animal right away. An owl. Not any owl. A tawny. The feathers were metallic browns and bronzes and there were also golden ones mixed within them. Around the eyes the feathers were silver-white. A delicate golden beak finished it off.
“It’s stunning, but…” Wanting to talk to Tallow, to open up to him and get him to open up to me was one thing. Dressing up as an owl might be pushing things a little far.
“Feolyn likes to play matchmaker. And it’s not as though I disapprove.” Tareese’s eyes sparkled. “You think it might upset Tallow? I have the feeling it will warm his heart.”
My own heart leapt with relief at the knowledge he would definitely be at the Eyrie, and I knew from what Tareese had said Tallow must have told her a lot about me. I guessed I should trust her judgement, plus the mask was so beautiful.
“Besides,” Tareese added, noticing my indecision, “do you want to face the wrath of Feolyn?”
I laughed. “Owl mask it is.” Maybe it would be a way to break the ice with Tallow. Maybe if he saw me in it, he would know it was my attempt to reach out to him.
With the mask and robe in one hand and my pack in the other, Tareese led me to the bathroom down the hall, a round room, all wood, some parts rough and gnarled, some smooth and polished. It almost looked like the center of an enormous hollow tree. In one corner a high spout emitted slow-flowing water.
Tareese handed me a towel. “Please shower if you like. Be warned, even though it’s warm out, the water comes from a natural spring, so it’s on the cold side. I must go upstairs, but take your time and join us when you’re ready.” She turned to leave. “Oh, I have to give you one other thing.” She left the bathroom for a few moments and returned with a pair of elbow-length bronze-colored gloves. “If you wear these, it means you won’t spend the night worrying about your hands.”
If I’d had any doubt, it was now clear Tallow had told his mother everything about me, including that I could see. The thought he’d talked about me even if we struggled to communicate spread warmth to every part of my body.
“Thank you for being so thoughtful.”
As I took them from her, Tareese left the bathroom, closing the door behind her. I suddenly wished I’d brought up my strange abilities with her, and I hadn’t even talked to her about what Dore wanted me to do. All that would have to wait. The sooner I got ready, the sooner I could try to find Tallow.
I pulled my hair up into a messy bun, undressed, and braved the shower for all of thirty seconds before leaping out, exclaiming, “God that’s cold!” I shivered, my skin covered in goosebumps.
Drying myself off, I changed into clean underwear, put on the robe and tied the sash at my waist, then started to apply makeup. I darkened around my eyes with a kohl pencil, used eyeshadow in shades that matched the mask, and applied mascara to make my lashes look long. Finishing off with some lip gloss, I braided my hair to one side before slipping on the mask.
I raised my eyes to the mirror and looked at the owl staring back at me. Had I looked like this to Tallow when we’d flown together? Had seeing me like an owl been one of the reasons he’d kissed me? Would this mask remind him of that, and would it be a good thing, or would he just get angry?
As I pulled on the gloves, I thought about putting on my trusty flats, which I’d packed in my bag, but I hadn’t seen anyone else wearing shoes. As shifters, they probably liked the sensation of the ground beneath their feet even in human form, and being at the Eyrie made me want to experience the same connection they had with their magical world.
Barefoot, I placed my pack in the main room and left the private residence.
The sound of chatter and laughter carried through the air. I looked upward to start climbing the stairs. There, at the top, sat Mox in a black robe with a mask on his lap. Seeing him there filled me with ripples of guilt. My mind had been full of Tallow, but there was Mox, waiting for me, watching out for me. I loved being around him, and I couldn’t deny that any feelings I had for Tallow didn’t change that I wanted Mox too. I wasn’t being fair to either of them, but I didn’t know how to choose. However, I had no idea if Mox still wanted me in that way. He’d mentioned Tallow and me several times without a hint of jealousy. Maybe he’d made up his mind where my emotions lay?
He stood when he saw me and whistled through his teeth.
“It’s just a robe,” I said, reaching the top stair.
He flashed a grin. “I’m imagining taking it off you.” When I slapped him playfully on the arm, he added, “Seriously though, you make a beautiful owl.” I expected some comment about my owl mask, at least some sexual innuendo—something about hooters. Instead, Mox held up his own mask, covered in black fur apart from a bright white pate and a small white line running down to a tiny pink nose.
I gulped down laughter. “What are you supposed to be?” I knew very well what animal he was.
“Yes, that’s right. I’m a skunk.” He looked a little sulky. “When I find that kid, I’m going to kill her.”
I leaned into him and made a big show of sniffing. Sandalwood. “Don’t fret, Mox. You may be a skunk, but you smell good to me.” He did smell good—always did. I remembered our time together in his apartment, how he moved above me and how his sweat had accentuated the sweet woody scent.
When I looked up at him and he down at me with his rich, deep, inviting blue eyes, I hoped he was thinking about similar things.
“There you are,” Fe shouted, jumping out from nowhere, the rapid blinking of her eyes highlighted by the rims of her raccoon mask eyeholes.
“You look so pretty.” She grabbed my hands, and my instinct was to snatch them away, anticipating the flashing and vortex that came when connecting with a shifter in human form, but the gloves Tareese had given me served their purpose because I experienced nothing. “Doesn’t she look pretty, Mox?”
“She does. And how do I look?” He put his mask on.
She giggled. “Stinky.”
Mox grabbed her and started tickling her, saying between her shrieks, “You’re. In. Big. Trouble.”
She scrambled away from him. When she was out of tickling distance, she waved her arms wildly in a beckoning away. “Come on! Come in! Tallow’s here somewhere.”
At the mention of Tallow’s name, all the lightness of the moment fell away. Was I ready? Would he talk to me? If he did, would he listen to what I had to say? And what would I say anyway? “Now or never,” I mumbled under my breath, knowing in seconds I’d change my mind about everything—even wearing the owl mask—if we didn’t get it over with.
“We’re coming,” Mox called. He looped an arm into mine. “Don’t worry. If that cranky owl gives you a hard time, I’ll pull him back into line.”
Mox. My protector. It made me want to ask him there and then what wa
s happening between us, but I knew it would have to wait, especially since Fe looked ready to yell at us for dawdling. I squeezed his arm and we followed.
At the front of the lodge there were numerous kin gathered, all masked. I saw a few birds, a wolf, and someone whose mask had a long, square horse-like muzzle with an impressive set of antlers, unmistakably moose. They spoke among themselves, and as we moved through them, they didn’t turn and look at me—the stranger among them. Relieved my mask allowed me to be one of them, or at least look like one of them, I glanced around. Where was Tallow?
The sun had almost reached the mountains and it cast light through the lodge, filling it with a golden glow. There had to be a hundred or more kin inside—a menagerie of animals.
“Want something to eat?” Fe shouted over the voices as we stepped through the great doors.
I hadn’t eaten all day, and my stomach growled at the thought of food.
Fe guided us into the crowd toward what looked like a long, expansive balcony suspended over the forest. The bright, warm hues of the slowly sinking sun caught on the tops of the trees, gilding them, and the few clouds in the sky had begun to catch color, promising a beautiful sunset.
Before we reached the balcony, Fe turned to the left, and I saw a long wooden table, which would have seated at least twenty people, piled with food. As we drew closer, I spied bowls with fruits and nuts, raw vegetables, and meats at one end cooked or smoked, while at the other end they were raw. A bowl of something that looked like colorful candies drew my attention until I reached them and realized they were beetles in among an assortment of other now dead insects.
“Cricket?” Mox asked, holding one up to me.
“No. Definitely not.”
“What about this?”
He grabbed a large bowl off the table and held it out to me. The substance inside looked like tapioca, but I had the distinct feeling it was frog spawn.
“Ahhhh, no, thank you,” I half laughed.
Fe elbowed Mox in the stomach. “Stop being silly.” She handed me a thick bowl-like leaf and guided me up the other end of the table. “Here.” She grabbed a cooked drumstick of some kind of bird and plopped it on my leaf. “Not all of us eat raw all the time. This is ruffled grouse. And here,” she picked up a small hardboiled egg, “is a ruffled grouse egg. And these,” she took fingers full of what looked like a type of waterweed, “are edible greens. And these,” her hand dived into a bowl of tiny dried berries before she dumped a fistful of them over the food she’d already given me, “taste like cranberries.” Beaming up at me, Fe watched expectantly.
