Authors: Nicole Taft
“Finally, when many could bear the
strain no longer—for wolves mate for life, as you know, and being unable to be
close to their mate can break their hearts—a pack of wolves came together, male
and female alike, to seek out a way to be with the humans they loved and who
loved them in return. Together they traveled the long, hard road to the next
kingdom where lived the most skilled sorceress in all the lands. It was very
difficult for them, climbing over the mountains through the cold and the snow,
but they were determined, and they made it.
“They beseeched the sorceress to
grant them human bodies, and the sorceress’s gentle heart saw the love the
wolves had for their humans and granted their request. But there was one thing
she could not change. Though they would appear as human, their hearts would
remain as wolves’ hearts and they would keep their tails as a reminder of their
former lives. They agreed and were changed and returned to their beloved
humans.”
An uncomfortable chill danced down
my spine. I got the feeling that like the Red Riding Hood story, this wasn’t
going to have a happy ending.
“All was well for many decades. Many
half-wolves were born, and more full wolves went to the sorceress and begged
for her secret, which she granted them before she died.
“But then came a day when two
sisters fell in love with a wolf. He only desired the younger of the two. They
married and lived happily while the eldest grew angry and filled with jealousy
that her love should be turned away. To the detriment of all wolves, she knew
the art of sorcery, and used her magic in her rage to curse all the changed wolves
in the land, opening their hearts to the deceit and lust and greed of human
hearts. She delivered upon full wolves the desire to hunt sheep and cattle
instead of deer and elk, and filled them with a bloodlust for young maids and
human flesh. She tried all she could to take away their human form, but her
rage and life were consumed in her magic and her spell was incomplete and she
died the night of a full moon.”
I stared at her in fascination. It
answered so many questions. Why wolves were ruled by a full moon. The crimson
color in their eyes. Their violence and why humans hated them so much.
“This is why wolves are so feared,”
the woman continued, “why they devour grandmothers and young maidens, shepherds
and sheep. Those that were in close proximity of the vengeful sorceress when
her spell was cast became werewolves, and until this time, they were banished
from these lands and sent far away into another.”
I wondered if any had stumbled into
my world. Perhaps that was where the stories had come from. The witch poked at
the fire, and again I was reminded of Wolf.
“But this story has long since been
forgotten. It has been over a century since the sorceress’s curse. Humans and
wolves hate and fear each other now, and poor half-wolves are lost, not knowing
their place in the world, packless and alone.”
I gazed into the fire, watching the
flames curl and dance. “Isn’t there any way to break the curse?”
She pressed her lips together. “It
was a muddled curse. The attempt of one so young to manipulate power beyond her
grasp. There are only whispered rumors in the trees and among the birds of how
to break it. They say a wolf must love so dearly that his heart breaks in two
and he lives inside the Earth for three days. Then he must arise, healed, and
the curse will be broken and the hearts of wolves will be free once more.”
Well it certainly wasn’t going to
be my Wolf.
Bastard.
Then I remembered my initial question and looked
closely at the old woman. Now she certainly looked older, the winkles in her
face deeper, her eyes full of sadness and her mouth set in a despondent frown. I
tilted my head, searching.
“You’re the sorceress from the
story, aren’t you? You said she died, but you’re her.”
A faint smile appeared on her face.
“I am dead my dear, I assure you.”
Alex huffed, startled. I put a hand
on his neck.
“But then…how…?”
“Very old magic. I foresaw the
trouble wolves would encounter, so long ago I set up a web of magic to help the
one destined to open the path to salvation.”
“But you can touch things. You gave
Alex real clothes.”
Her eyes twinkled like they held a
secret. “That is why I was the best.”
I sighed, frustrated. There was so
much here I didn’t know. I touched the key around my neck. “What do you mean,
‘open the path to salvation’? I thought I was just a Guardian?”
“You are,” she said, becoming
grave. “What you will do will save all wolves.”
I laughed bitterly. “Right. Sure. I’ve
been doing a bang up job so far.” Then a thought hit me. I held up the key to
her. “Can you change them back? Marianne and my brother?”
She shook her head. “My magic does
not extend that far.”
I slumped back. The fire crackled
between us. I pushed the end of a stick into it with the tip of my boot.
“So,” I said at length, “why are
you here?”
“I am here to help and give you the
things you need.”
“You gave me a necklace that almost
got me eaten by harpies.”
“No. I gave you a necklace that
allowed you to fly. You almost got yourself eaten by harpies.”
She had said that the necklace was
to keep me grounded. I folded my arms, knowing she was right.
“What did you say to Wolf that
day?”
“I told him something he didn’t
want to hear.”
I wondered what that could have
been. Maybe that he would die before seeing me frozen for all eternity. Maybe
that I would kill him. I shook away the thought. He’d hurt me tremendously and
I hated him, but the idea of actually pushing a blade through his heart was too
much for me to conceive. Now the werewoman on the other hand…
“So what do you have for me this
time?” I asked.
Her eyes twinkled again and she
reached inside her tattered clothing, producing a small vial of crystal clear
liquid.
“Lavawort flower extract.”
She handed it to me. I turned it
over in my hands.
“What does it do? Does it heal like
lavawort?”
“Indeed, it can. But it is also the
most deadly poison within the three kingdoms.”
I scrunched up my face in
confusion. “How is that possible?”
Alex sniffed at the vial.
“It is a very unique flower with
very unique properties. Lavawort leaves have a fraction of the oil as the
flower. Gum leaves are only used to temper the painful sensation that lavawort
can inspire. Those who are healthy and drink the flower extract, die. Only
those who use it in the direst of situations may be saved, but with great
pain.”
I fingered the vial. Strange. With
it I could save someone who was dying, or I could use it to kill others. I
considered dipping the tips of my remaining crossbow bolts into it.
“So what happens now?”
“Now you do what you have to do.”
I pressed my head to my knees for a
moment before looking up again. “Are you like my fairy godmother or something?”
But the old
witch was gone. So was the fire. I sighed, cool springtime air washing over me.
Alex was asleep. I would have wondered if it had been a dream if I didn’t have
the vial of lavawort flower extract still in my hands. I tucked it inside a
coat pocket and settled closer to Alex for warmth. The sun would be up in a few
hours and we would have to go. Until then, I wanted to get in as much sleep as
possible. Things were far from over.
I awoke, cold and wet. For the
first time since my stay in this world, sad gray clouds blanketed the sky and a
light rain fell. Springtime rain, helping the ferns and flowers along in their
bloom. It had the opposite effect on me. Stiff, miserable, I got to my feet and
rummaged through my pack. Alex woke, shaking water off himself. I had the
pathetic hope that perhaps my rain jacket would be in it, but apparently when
the werewolves went through it, they’d taken it out and never put it back in.
“Damn it!”
I resisted the urge to throw the
pack on the ground. Wet and cold in the woods was not a good combination. I
touched the key, suddenly glad that Marianne wasn’t herself. This situation
would be worse on a child. I tasted the water on my lips and my brain suddenly
reminded me how thirsty I was. I cupped my hands together, at the same time
tilting my head back and opening my mouth. I would have preferred to wring the
water out of the coat, but drinking down blood, dirt, and sweat weren’t high on
my list of favorite things to drink.
“All right,” I said once I’d gotten
my fill. I wrapped my arms around myself and looked to Alex. “Let’s go.”
We’d maintained a steady
northeasterly course in order to reach the castle featured on the map. I’d
tried to judge how soon we’d get there by the rough estimations I’d made by
examining the map. We could reach it sometime during the night if we didn’t
stop to sleep again, or maybe during the next day. I prayed we wouldn’t
overshoot it. I might have to climb a tree or two myself at some point to get a
look at what might be ahead, now that Marianne was stuck being a key.
We trudged through the woods,
carefully going up and down gullies, me trying not to slip in the mud while
Alex bounced nimbly over the ground. Even when in rain gear, hiking through the
rain was only fun for the first fifteen or twenty minutes or so before it
became annoying. We skirted rocky outcroppings and fallen logs. I kept an eye
out for fairy rings and cursed necrotic forest patches. A few times Alex stuck
his nose into the air and steered us away from an area. I didn’t know if he
smelled werewolves or something else, but I trusted his judgment enough to
follow his lead. I hoped the rain would at least hamper our scent a little bit.
I shivered, trying to do the
impossible and ignore the cold as the day wore on. For once I wished Alex
hadn’t thrown his hat. Not like it would have done a lot of good to wear it
now. I might as well have jumped in the pond again, soaking wet in just shorts,
a sports bra, and a long coat. I worried about what I would do when night fell.
Bad situation to be in. Alex knew it too; he kept looking at me every so often.
But for now the only way to remotely stay warm was to keep moving. There were
no caves and no abandoned huts like the one I’d followed Marianne into.
Suddenly Alex stopped. He snorted
once, his nostrils flaring.
“What?” I asked, taking the
crossbow from my shoulder and loading it.
He backed up, stamping and
grunting. I aimed the crossbow into the forest around us, turning in circles,
my heart pounding. Had they found us? After so much, would this be it? I only
had five bolts left. I licked rainwater from my lips.
“Come on,” I whispered. “
Come on
.”
I hated waiting.
Alex bugled. I spun and something
flashed amidst the trees. I kept my finger tight on the trigger.
Don’t pull.
Don’t pull. Make them count.
Alex pawed at the ground, his
hooves throwing up dirt and leaves. He lowered his antlers, ready to charge. More
movement. To my left this time. A swish of a silvery tail. Low to the ground.
Full wolves
. And they had us
surrounded.
“Come on,” I shouted. “Show
yourselves!”
As if in response, they did,
emerging from the mists of the rain and forest foliage like phantoms. They
stood in a circle around us, waiting. I aimed the crossbow at each of them, finally
settling on a white wolf who was a little larger and stopped a little closer
than the others. I didn’t recognize the pack, but guessed it was the alpha. Maybe
female. For a moment my mind flashed back to the image of the wolf who’d tried
to protect me and got shot for her trouble. I shoved it back. Now was not the
time. Suddenly I hated this place. Hated the sorceress in the old witch’s story
and her curse on the wolves. Hated that I’d gone from biologist and champion
for wolves to paranoid and pointing a crossbow at them.
“Who are you?” I demanded. “Are you
with the Mistress?”
The wolf tilted its head as if
confused and then looked behind itself. I followed its gaze. Behind me, Alex
bellowed. I quickly realized why. More wolves appeared. I guessed maybe twenty
surrounded us. I said nothing and kept watching them, wondering how many I
could take down if they were on the werewoman’s leash.
Then a familiar face appeared. The
alpha male I’d spoken with only a few nights before. It felt like a week. The
same one to attack the werewolves during our escape. He trotted over, stopping
beside the white female. He examined us for a moment before his eyes met mine. I
didn’t lower the crossbow.
What is this?
he asked.
“They’re cursed,” I said, knowing
he could understand me. “My brother and the girl.”
Where is your mate?
Anger flared inside of me. “He’s
not my mate.”
His eyes widened.
How is that
possible? He is your mate.
“He’s
not
my mate. He broke
his vow.”
This time the alpha’s eyes narrowed
and his muzzle drew back in a snarl.
Wolves do not break their vows!
Too angry to even think of backing
down, I bared my teeth back at him and roared. “HE LIED! I loved him, and he
betrayed me!”
The alpha relaxed, and instead
tilted his head in pure puzzlement.
Not so. If this were true your
heart would break and you would die. Such is the way of mates.
“No!” I lowered the crossbow and
pointed at him viciously. “
No.
Humans do
not
just lay down and
die from broken hearts. We pick them up and put the pieces back together and go
on, no matter how much it hurts.”
The second the words left my mouth,
a searing pain shot through my chest. As though a pair of hands had taken hold
of my heart and twisted. I dropped to the ground, clutching at a spot over my heart.