Wolf-Bound: Unfamiliar Territory, page 8
Damien nodded. “He went off the deep end.”
“It had to be like losing his brother all over again. And maybe…maybe the twins are bound to their fathers, somehow. Maybe this baby is still alive because Jacob is.”
His brow furrowed. “It is strange, but…I just don’t know.”
“Has anything like this ever happened before?”
“Like I said, not that I know of.”
“But surely there have been accidents before, where one father is killed before the children are born.”
Damien and Devlin shook their heads. “I don’t think so,” Damien insisted. “You know injuries and illnesses don’t affect us the way they do pure humans. Most weyr die of old age. As far as accidents, well, there are certain types of injuries even we can’t heal, but…” He shook his head. “I honestly can’t remember ever hearing a story where one father died while the children were still in the womb. If it’s happened, I’d think we would have heard about it, at least about what the consequences were for the children.”
Dev piped in. “Who are they, anyway? These weyr. Did she give you names?”
“Yes. Umm, Jacob. Jacob and Johnathan O’Connail.”
“Hmm. Doesn’t ring a bell, but they’re, what, Irish? I think I remember her saying before that the guy she met in New Orleans was Irish.”
Jenny nodded. “Yes. And Jacob is the one that came to see her.”
“So Johnathan is the one who died.”
She nodded again.
Dev pushed up from the table. “Each country’s weyr population is pretty tight. I’ve never heard of these guys, but we have contacts in Ireland. I’ll make a couple of calls, see what I can find out about them.”
“Wait.” Jenny put a hand on his arm, looking from him to Damien. “We have to discuss what we’re going to do about him.”
He looked at his brother. Damien’s gaze narrowed. “What we’re going to do about him? Look, Jenny, I told you before ‑‑”
“Just hear me out.” Jenny took a deep breath. “If this baby survived because Jacob did, then k ‑‑” She stopped. Shook her head at her inability to say the word. Tried again. “Killing him isn’t an option. We might lose the baby.”
Her husbands’ faces registered shock. “Hell, I didn’t think of that,” Devlin murmured.
“But we don’t even know ‑‑” Damien started.
“Exactly. We don’t know. Which is why we have to at least try to save Jacob. We can’t take the risk that their fates are bound together. There’s more than one life at stake, and the baby’s an innocent. I didn’t like the idea of dealing with the problem in…in that way even before I found out who the rogue is, and now…” She slapped a hand decisively on the table. “You can’t. You just can’t do it.”
Dev collapsed back into his chair. Damien tilted his head, staring up at the ceiling. “Jen ‑‑”
She grasped his shoulders. “Look at me.” When he resisted, she shook him. “Damien, please.”
He met her gaze reluctantly.
“Figure out a way to catch him. And a place to confine him.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, thinking. “That stable in the back that we use for mares about to foal. The birthing barn. It’s empty now. If we can keep him from harming himself or others, or exposing weyrfolk, at least until Tara’s baby is born, maybe we can use his son to bring him back. Show him there’s still something to live for.”
Damien caught her head between his hands. “Jenny. You’re always fighting the odds. There are some rules that can’t be broken. If anything were to go wrong ‑‑”
“I think she’s right.”
Damien’s eyes went wide, and he whipped his head around, glaring at his brother.
Dev flashed a rueful smile. “We have to try. We owe it to the baby.” He reached out, resting a hand on Jenny’s stomach. “Imagine if ‑‑”
“Don’t,” Damien barked harshly. “Don’t say it.”
“The boy deserves a chance. The man, too, for that matter. Just because we believe something can only happen one way doesn’t mean that’s the right way, or the only way. When it comes to beating the odds ‑‑” He reached out and squeezed Jen’s shoulder. “‑‑ I’ll bet on our girl every time. Every time.”
Damien’s gaze traveled back and forth between them. His brow creased with worry, he knelt beside Jenny and took her hands in his. “Is this what you really want?” His bright blue eyes seemed to peer into her soul.
“Yes, Damien. Please. There has to be a better way.”
He stared at her for a long moment, then took a deep breath and stood. “All right.”
Jenny jumped up and hugged him tight. “Thank you!”
His hand caressed her hair. “I feel the same way you do, Jen. You probably think I’m heartless, but according to every weyr I’ve ever known, going rogue is equivalent to having rabies. They can’t be saved or cured; the only thing to do is put them down. I’d love it if there was another way, but when it comes to protecting our family…” He shook his head. “I’m worried. If anything were to happen to you or the children…” His dangerous expression said it all.
“I know.” She kissed his cheek. “That’s one of the reasons I love you. But you can’t protect everyone from everything, all by yourself. Sometimes you need help. And sometimes you have to look at things in a different way. Take chances. Maybe you aren’t supposed to be protecting us from Jacob. Maybe Jacob’s the one that needs protection.” A strange tingling swept through her from head to toe, a feeling of calm certainty. A shifting, as though something just off-kilter had canted back into place. That’s it, she thought. That’s what we’re supposed to do. Protect him.
Damien scrubbed both his hands through his hair. “Like I said, we’ll give it a try. For you.”
“Thank you.” One of the babies kicked hard just then, and she stepped out of Damien’s arms and settled back into her chair. “Ouch.” She grinned wryly. “I think one of these guys is going to be a soccer player.”
Damien chuckled. Reaching out, he tugged his brother up from the chair. “We’d better get busy. Let’s go see what we can do with that stable. Then we’ll hit the phones and check into what the family O’Connail’s been up to.”
Unconventional Union
The guys had been working in the barn for a couple of hours when Jenny hollered out to them. “I’m going for a walk.”
Damien appeared immediately at the stable door, frowning. “Honey, you’re almost full term.”
“And I feel fine.” She rested a hand on her tummy. “I’m half-weyr, remember? Since I found out what I am, my weyr senses have matured. I’ll know when it’s time.”
“But the rogue ‑‑”
“Will be resting at this time of day, right?”
Damien nodded grudgingly. “Probably.”
“And even a rogue weyr probably avoids signs of civilization in broad daylight. Besides, I have my walkie-talkie and my cell phone, and I’m not going far. But I’ve been cooped up in the house for a couple of weeks, and I need to visit the woods.”
He couldn’t argue further, knowing that her bond with the land was as strong as theirs, an actual physical longing that could even make her ill if denied. “All right, but be careful. And if you sense anything at all out of the ordinary, even a hint ‑‑”
“I’ll be out of there immediately.”
“While you’re dialing the phone and the talkie.”
Jenny laughed. “Of course.”
She waved and started off, feeling his eyes watching her until she disappeared among the tree boles. She shook her head. Sometimes she wondered how so-called “normal” women handled being married to only one man. Damien was strong, confident, ambitious, but at times that translated into overbearing, domineering, and confrontational. Devlin, on the other hand, was carefree, outgoing, and humorous…which sometimes meant careless, impulsive, and frivolous. If she lived with only one of them, it probably never would have worked; they would have driven her crazy. But together they complemented each other, each one’s strengths conquering the other’s weaknesses.
She deliberately pushed aside all thought and closed her eyes, opening her senses to the land. She dug the toes of her bare feet into the rich, leafy debris beneath the trees. Ever since the night her husbands had bound her, she’d been able to commune with nature in a way that was more than psychological. With her feet buried in the loam, her skin actually tingled with the marching of a thousand ants, felt the pressure of the soft pads and the prickle of claws as a cougar threaded its way cautiously between the trees.
Opening herself to the experience, Jen walked aimlessly, her body automatically avoiding obstacles. Her arms spread wide, she trailed her fingers over rough bark, listened to leaves gossip. Abruptly, the gnarled trunks disappeared from beneath her fingertips, and she felt the warmth of the sun and sensed open space all around her. The wind caressed her like a lover, and she breathed deeply of the fresh air, heavy with the scent of loam and the crisp promise of chill during the coming September night.
“Jenny.”
A whisper shivered through her. She opened her eyes.
She stood in the middle of the clearing she could never find when actually looking for it, surrounded by the great, tall trees she still did not recognize, before an altar of stone. The same stone upon which her marriage to Damien and Devlin had been consecrated by the Goddess, and her bond with the land forged.
She dropped to her knees, bending her head, her dark braid draping her shoulder.
A chuckle. “There is no need for that, Daughter of Earth.” The wind’s caress brushed her cheek like gentle fingers, then lifted her chin.
The Goddess sat cross-legged upon the stone. Hair the deep, dark brown of the richest earth tumbled across shoulders the hue of honey. Jenny gazed upon her for a moment, then looked away, embarrassed as she realized Gaia was naked.
Another chuckle. “Look upon me, Daughter. Turn not away. See what I am, and what you will be. Someday.”
Jenny let her gaze travel. The skin covering the Goddess’s breasts bore faint patterns of green and yellow, like that of wild gourds. Her belly was a carpet of pale blue moss, her womanhood a patch of clover. Her thighs were tree boles and her calves intertwined canes of vine. Her toes sprouted mushrooms, her fingers flowers. Her hands were the color and texture of sand, her lower arms gray slate, her upper arms pink granite. From shoulders to hairline, she looked much like a human woman, save for the eyes, gray-blue seas in which Jenny could actually see waves crashing. So different, and yet the whole blended into something wonderful.
“You’re beautiful,” she breathed. “I never really saw you, that night. You were just a bright, woman-shaped light.”
“Men are never allowed to see me this way.”
“Then, thank you. It’s an honor.”
The Goddess smiled. “Yes. And a rite of passage.”
“A rite of passage?”
Gaia patted the rock beneath her. “Did you think that all bonds were forged in this way?”
Wide-eyed, Jenny nodded. “Well…yes.”
The Goddess cocked her head. “You were not raised in the Way?”
“Um, if by that, you mean raised as a weyr, then no. I’m only half-weyr, and my mother never felt it necessary to tell me. Since my father was human, she wanted to raise me as a human. I never knew what I was until I met my husbands.” She tilted her head curiously. “How come you don’t already know that?”
A deep laugh like the booming of surf resonated through the clearing. “I am Gaia. I know every seedling, every grain of sand, each blade of grass, and every breath of wind in which I reside. The fox and the cat, the jay and the hawk, the ant and the centipede, they are all mine. The animals and the land, I rule, but only within certain boundaries, and I cannot see into the mind of man unless invited.”
“But I thought ‑‑ no, never mind.”
“Speak, Daughter.”
Jenny shrugged. “It’s just that, since the night Damien and Devlin and I bonded, I’ve…well, I’ve often felt like you are…with me, somehow.”
Gaia smiled. “Yes. You belong. The Mother’s gift burns within you ‑‑ a seed only, for now, but I will teach you to bring it forth, to help it bear fruit. If only you wish it.”
“I’m still confused. What does this have to do with that night?”
The Goddess frowned. “Your parent has much to answer for. Still, you are here, as anticipated.”
“But you just said you don’t really know anything about me. How did you know I was coming?”
“I did not know the Daughter would be you. I simply knew that soon one would come.” She sighed, and a great wind whipped Jenny’s hair about her face. “Briefly, then, I will explain the Way of the Wolf and the meaning of Gaia.
“It has always been thus, that man must accept the Mother in order to carry the flame of Her magic within their hearts. In times long past, every one of the races of man held this power. A bit of Her magic dwelt in all creatures, but only humans could acknowledge or deny, and by their acceptance, the flame burned in them strongest of all. But as humans grew in knowledge, they turned away from the Mother, no longer seeking to live in harmony with the natural world, quenching the flame of that power which burned within them. No longer bound to the land, mankind ceased to consider it at all, and the world suffered, and She suffered.
“Yet there were those among men who had fierce hearts and remained sensitive to Her presence. The magic still lived in them, an ember that glowed like a beacon. These ones She called to Her, and gave them the power of transformation, and set them to guard and protect the wild places, and these passed the magic within them down through the ages. These are the weyr, the great wolves who defend the land.
“Yet this was not enough, for while they are powerful and natural creatures, they serve best as protectors, defenders. The magic in them is not as strong as that of yore and offers no sustenance. In order to thrive, the land needs one who nurtures and sustains, giving of their heart and soul, body and blood, and of the magic that lives within them, to enrich the land and those of the land. So our great Mother searched and saw that among the ranks of men, there remained rare souls in whom Her magic still burned as a bright and steady flame. She named these ‘Daughters of Earth’ ‑‑ Gaia ‑‑ and gathered them to her. Together with the weyr, they work to maintain Her against man’s depredations.”
Jenny wrinkled her brow. “I’m confused. The Mother is…who? Earth?”
“Yes. She is the world. She is every natural thing ‑‑ man and beast, soil and rock, leaf and flower. The planet as a whole.”
“But I don’t understand. If she is… Did she create us? If so, how could things get so out of hand? Can’t she ‑‑ I don’t know ‑‑ shrug, or something. Toss us off and start over, if we’re ruining her planet?”
The Goddess frowned. “Gaia did not create the world. She is the world. She simply became. Over time, Her body changed, and others became ‑‑ eukaryotes, prokaryotes, the great lizards, fish and birds and more. All of them, as they developed, carried Her magic within them. Then man became, and suddenly, here was a creature without Her flame. Yet he was seeking, always seeking. And so She offered the eternal blaze, and when mankind accepted, the magic burned within them brighter than ever before.
“But still they sought ‑‑ knowledge, power ‑‑ and in their continual seeking, turned away. The magic, and their love for Her, died within many of them.
“But She cannot destroy them. Will not. She is the Mother, the bringer of balance, and man is most precious to Her. She works for the day that all of mankind will once again belong.”
“So…I assume you’re trying to tell me I’m like you, one of those that still have the magic.”
Gaia nodded serenely.
“How do you know?”
“Our Mother called, and you answered. You found this glen, hidden from mortal eyes. You felt Her spirit, and you spoke to Her. Only your presence allowed the weyr entry into this sacred dell, and She allowed them to bind you here only because the strength of your thrice-joined love consecrated within this, a place of power, increased your bond with the land and the potency of Her magic within you ninefold, and She is in great need of a powerful agent among you.” She chuckled. “Blood is of the Way, but stone and earth are hers.
“Had your mother taught you, you would know that the Way binds through the sharing of the blood, during a full moon, by way of the bite. There would be no knife, no stone, no bowl, no consecration of the union by her Daughter. My presence here was commanded by the Mother. Her good earth mixed with the blood, and you drank of Her essence.”
Jenny remembered rich, dark soil raining into the hollow, mixing with the blood of their joining.
“She bade me reach out to you, and you opened yourself to me, as only a Daughter can. You became one with me, and so with Her, a Daughter come home. It is now my duty to guide you and teach you, as in time you will become like me.” She laughed as Jenny’s face contorted. “Do not fear. That moment is far into the future. She will wait until your husbands have returned to Her. She would not deprive you of a love so strong. You will have need of their love, their strength, in the trials to come.”
“Please don’t think badly of me. You are beautiful, but not in a way that my husbands would find appealing.”
The Goddess waved a hand in dismissal. “The question is, do you accept? Will you be the Mother’s agent?”
“Does all of this have anything to do with Jacob O’Connail? Earlier, I said to Damien that maybe we were meant to protect him, and I thought I sensed your presence, and I felt as though that was exactly what we’re supposed to do.”
Gaia nodded. “There is a battle looming, and Jacob will play his part, as will you all.” She sighed. “It is unfortunate that destruction so often hovers near, and paradise remains such a distant dream. Understand this: if Jacob O’Connail does not survive this trial, a time will come when the Mother is destroyed. This earth and everything on and within it will be consumed, and that dark day will happen in your mortal lifetime.”
