Wolf-Bound: Unfamiliar Territory, page 9
Jenny’s voice squeaked when she spoke. “So. Save Jacob, save the world?” She touched her tummy, cradling her children protectively. “No pressure.”
“It is a little more complicated than that, but yes. That would be your first task.”
“And if I succeed?”
“Yet more tasks will be perceived, as paths into the future become sharper to our Mother. The farther She looks, the less true Her sight, yet each time we succeed at a task She has set, there comes closer a day which She has discerned, when Gaia will span this earth, and the planet will be whole again. Unlike the threat of destruction, which is a constant danger, this promise of peace lies far into the future. Yet when that day comes, we will join with the Mother, and mankind will awaken once more to Her call. Children shall lay nestled amongst the lion’s paws, men will hunt with the fox, and women weave alongside the spider. And this, too, you would witness, for though the path to that future is far and long, in that time and place you will be Gaia, and one with us.”
Jenny shuddered. “I…I don’t know. It’s so much to take in.”
“The way is there, but it remains to be seen which path each player will tread. Each of us has a choice. You can refuse.
“If, however, you wish to help, you must believe in the Mother, in Her power within you, and in the bond She has forged between us. You must accept me as the sister of your heart and open yourself to my presence and guidance.”
A year ago, Jenny would have been convinced she was hallucinating, but now… She was married to a couple of weyrwolves, pregnant with their children, possibly adopting another weyrwolf child, attempting to save an insane weyr’s life ‑‑ why wouldn’t she believe that Earth was somehow alive and that magic, of a sort, was real?
And then she remembered something else. “Once, when I was twelve, we were camping. I was hiking along a gravel road, and a fawn walked out into the middle of the path. Beautiful. She stood there, and I stopped, just watching. Amazed.
“This car came, driving real slow around the curve. The guy inside, a teenager, saw the fawn and grinned. I thought he was like me, feeling blessed by the sight. But he said something to the guy with him and floored the accelerator, and the next thing I knew, they were speeding by me, laughing, and the fawn was lying in the gravel. Broken. Bloody. I ran over to her. I remember wanting so badly to be able to heal her. I thought…I thought I saw someone, a woman. She looked like an angel, and she asked me if…if I was willing to give of myself to make the fawn well.
“I said yes, and…I felt warm, all of the sudden. Hot. My hands burned. ‘Touch her,’ she said, and I did. It was like when Damien and Devlin change. Her bones knit. Her neck, it was broken, but her head twisted back around, her body healed. She scrambled up onto her legs and dashed off into the trees. I think I fainted. When I woke up, I was back under the trees myself. I thought I had dreamed the whole thing, except there was still blood on the gravel. I checked.” She rubbed at the sudden flock of goose bumps on her arms. “I felt drained, but in a good way, you know what I mean? I never told anyone, and I’d actually forgotten about it, until now. It was Her, wasn’t it? Or one of you. Even then.”
The presence appeared astonished. “She rarely speaks to one untrained or acts through so young an agent. Truly, you are Hers.” The apparition stared off into the distance, losing solidity, becoming almost transparent. “And yet, I sense that your choice is still to be made. She feels you were too young to make such a decision binding. She makes the offer again. Will you accept?”
Jenny didn’t quite fathom the idea that she could play a pivotal role in the world’s future, but in the here and now, there were children, a best friend, and men who needed her, and the bond with nature and with the Goddess felt strong and right. “I do believe, and I accept your presence and guidance.”
The Goddess smiled, her semblance abruptly disappearing from atop the stone and reappearing behind it, hovering cross-legged in the air a few feet above the ground.
Earth filled the hollow at the stone’s center. Upon the rich brown loam rested a dark green seed. Jenny reached out and tucked the kernel into the moist soil. A green shoot sprang up, topped by a cluster of leaves that unfurled immediately, cupping a brilliant, white-hot flame.
Mother chose wisely. The Goddess spoke directly to her mind. Welcome, sister.
When Jenny had joined with Damien and Devlin at last, she had experienced the sensation of something slipping into place within her ‑‑ of a missing piece of her soul returning to its rightful place. Her stomach fluttered, and she felt again as though she’d regained a missing bit of herself, moving one step closer to becoming all that she was meant to be.
The Goddess frowned. Cocking her head, she listened to the wind. Go now. Your husbands are anxious for your return.
“Thank you.” Jenny turned and strode to the edge of the clearing. She looked back. “When will I see you again?”
When I am needed, I will be with you.
Jenny nodded and stepped past the limit of the tree circle, glancing back once more.
The glade was gone, an impenetrable stand of close-set boles and twilight darkness taking its place. However, Jenny could sense the sacred circle just out of reach, like a ghost beyond the world she saw, waiting for her return.
Unavoidable Danger
A few hours later, Jenny watched Damien with wide eyes as he loaded his shotgun. “I thought the plan was to catch him.”
“It is, Jen.” He closed the box of ammo and checked the safety once more. “See? The safety’s on. I won’t use it unless it’s absolutely necessary, but plans have a nasty habit of not always working the way people intend them to.”
Jenny hugged herself, rubbing at arms that were suddenly freezing. “Please be careful. I-I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose either one of you.”
She followed him out onto the porch, where Dev stood waiting, holding a sack, the contents of which she had no desire to know. She supposed it was a lure for Jacob, and while she had no problem with the roles of predator and prey in the wild, it bothered her that they were going to trick him and then lock him up. She understood the necessity ‑‑ after all, it was her own suggestion ‑‑ but this rubbed completely against the grain of what she and her husbands stood for. The idea of confining another human being against his will, no matter the reason, made the hairs on her neck prickle uneasily.
“Lock the doors and stay inside.” Dev put an arm around her and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “No matter what.” It was a measure of how difficult they felt the task would be that Devlin was the one warning her rather than Damien.
He stepped away, and Damien rested his hands on her shoulders. He gazed deep into her eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
He kissed her, a hungry kiss that made her heart ache with fear for him. “Don’t do anything rash,” she whispered. “Promise me.”
He chuckled. “Shouldn’t you be saying that to Dev?”
Normally, she would, but there was something in his eyes. She shook her head. “He’s not the one I’m worried about.”
“Don’t worry.” He kissed her again. “Everything’s going to be all right. I promise.”
She watched them disappear into the darkness and tried to draw comfort from the knowledge that neither of them had ever broken a promise.
Jenny sat in bed, holding her e-reader but unable to focus on a single word. Her body tingled with awareness, jumping at every sigh and creak the house made, every muted sound from the woods beyond.
A strangled howl pierced the night, a voice she recognized instantly. “Devlin!”
She scrambled out of bed and raced through the house. She fumbled with the lock for a moment, then flung open the front door and pounded down the porch. Running, barefoot and in her nightgown, she whispered to the Goddess. Show me. Please, lead me there.
She heard no answer, but felt a surge of energy and sensed a guiding presence. Despite her condition, she flew over the ground, drawing strength and speed from her weyr blood. Surefooted and fleet as the wolves she loved, she dodged scrub and ducked limbs, trees passing in a blur. Seconds later, she raced into a moonlit clearing and lurched to a stop before a frozen tableau that set her heart pounding.
A black wolf, massive even by weyr standards, straddled Devlin’s inert body. Jenny choked back a sob. The weyr stiffened, ears twitching in her direction, but his eyes remained locked on Damien, who was raising the shotgun.
Oh, no. Without thinking, Jenny dashed over to stand between them. “Damien! Put it away.”
He stared at her in horror. His gaze dropped to her rounded belly. He shook his head, tear tracks on his cheeks glinting in the moonlight. “You have to move, Jenny. Now.”
Her heart ached, but she couldn’t let him pull that trigger. “Trust me, Damien. Please.”
He hesitated a moment longer, but finally flipped the safety back on and lowered the gun, the tense lines of his body screaming betrayal.
“Trust me,” she whispered again and turned to face the wolf.
He growled, lips drawn back from enormous incisors.
Every instinct she had screamed at her to run. She’d thought Damien was big ‑‑ of course, she had only Devlin to compare him to ‑‑ but this wolf was noticeably larger.
But in truth, it wasn’t his size that was so frightening. It was an instinctive understanding that, of every being present, perhaps even including her Gaian mentor, Jake was the most dangerous.
His eyes met hers. Wild, haunted, dark as midnight. Jenny struggled to keep from being drawn into their dark abyss.
She drew on her link with the Goddess and her fear for Devlin to give her strength. Slowly, she held out a trembling hand. “Jacob.” Pleased that her voice came out firm and strong despite her fear, she took a small step toward him. “Jacob. I know who you are. I know what’s happened.” He huffed, his hot breath washing over her. Muscles bunched beneath his matted black fur. Jen swallowed hard and halted. “I know you’re hurting, and I want to help. Please, change back to human form. Talk to me.”
He shook his head roughly, looking for all the world like a dog trying to rid himself of an annoying fly.
Jenny swallowed nervously. “Jacob. We don’t want to hurt you. Please believe me.” He watched her, but she sensed his awareness was still firmly on Damien. “Damien,” she said softly. “Please toss the gun away.”
“Jen ‑‑”
“Damien, please!”
Tense seconds of waiting. Then, “I have to unload it. I don’t want it going off by mistake.” Snicks and rattling. A rustle, snap, and the thunk of the stock hitting earth far off to her right.
The next few seconds passed in slow motion for her. The wolf leapt. Jenny scrambled backward and tripped, landing on her back in rotting leaves. Damien screamed her name. Jacob’s huge paws pressed into the loam to either side of her waist, straddling her as his head came down, his jaws open wide.
Jen ducked under his chin and threw her arms around his neck, plastering herself against his chest. He shook his head. Stepped back. One step, two. Jen got her feet beneath her and let him draw her upright as he moved. He shook again, but she held tight. “Jacob, please,” she whispered into his coarse, tangled ruff. “I’m pregnant. Please don’t hurt me.”
He stopped, and his forelegs trembled. “Yes, I know,” she whispered. “I know about your son. I’m here to help you. I promise.” Finding her footing, she loosened her grip on his fur. “Change. Talk to me.”
He jerked hard. She lost her hold, but remained standing. He shook his head again, dark eyes glinting dangerously in the moonlight. Her whole body trembled, but Jenny reached out and grabbed the hair behind his jaw, determined to get through to him. “Look at me, Jacob!”
He bared his teeth, breath frosting in the cool air. Her legs wavered, but she forced herself to speak, voice trembling. “You still have one son.”
He leaned into her with a low, rumbling growl.
She tightened her grip, steeling her nerves and her tone. “Stop that.”
The wolf jerked his head, eyes going wide. Jen pressed her advantage. “No more nonsense. Your son doesn’t deserve this. There’s no reason for you to die. No reason for him to die.” He stared. She could see the disbelief in his eyes ‑‑ eyes now showing a hint of human awareness. “I know. Everyone believes no weyr twin can survive his brother’s death, but I don’t. Sometimes it takes fresh eyes, a fresh mind, to see that beliefs are just that ‑‑ beliefs, not necessarily truth.” She forced herself to meet his eyes, trying to see past the threatening dark to the spark of humanity gleaming in their depths. “Help me, Jacob. Help me prove them wrong. Help me save your son.”
He stared at her for what seemed like hours, but could only have been seconds. She breathed in his warm exhalations, watched his pupils contract, the black abysses disappearing to reveal irises the color of chocolate, glazed with silver by the moonlight. He shuddered. She loosened her grip on his ruff, running her hands through the matted strands gently. “That’s it. Come back, Jacob. Come back and let us help you.”
He whimpered, settling back on his haunches. Bones shifted in the shoulder beneath her hand.
Jenny let go, backing up. The wolf shivered, joints cracking. Faster than she’d ever seen, he shifted. In moments, a naked man crouched before her, trembling, still on edge, still acutely aware of Damien, whom Jenny prayed would stay where he was.
“Jacob.”
The man looked at her.
“I need to check my husband. May I?”
His brow furrowed. She pointed. “Behind you. Devlin.”
He nodded, moving so that he could watch her and Damien both. She knelt beside Devlin, reached out to feel his neck for a pulse.
He caught her hand in his.
“Dev!”
He grinned weakly. “Got a knock on the head, but I’m okay. Been playing possum, trying to figure a way out.” He reached up and cupped her cheek. “You did good, baby.”
She glanced at Jacob, whose eyes darted nervously from her to Devlin to Damien and back. “We’re not out of the woods yet,” she murmured, surprising herself by being amused at the unintentional pun.
She squeezed his hand and stood. “Will you come with us, Jacob?”
“Wh-who are you?” His voice cracked, raspy from disuse.
“A friend. Someone who cares about you and your child.” She held out her hand. Jacob winced, backing away. His mouth lengthened into a muzzle.
She froze. “Jacob?”
He shook his head. Moaned as his jaw shifted again to its human form. “I’m trying,” he said. “I don’t know how long ‑‑”
Jenny nodded and grabbed his outstretched hand. Resisting the impulse to run, she forced herself to walk slowly and calmly, leading Jacob from the clearing. Damien waited until they had passed, then hurried to Devlin’s side and helped him up.
“I’ve got to find the shotgun. I can’t risk teenagers or poachers coming across it.”
His brother nodded.
“Don’t let her out of your sight.”
He nodded again and strode swiftly in Jenny’s footsteps.
Ahead of him, their wife spoke in low tones, letting her instincts guide her back to the house. “Jacob, I’m Jenny. Jenny Blake.”
“H-how do you know me?”
Jenny knew mentioning Tara or the baby at this delicate point might be dangerous. “Can we talk about that later?” He stopped abruptly, swinging her around to face him. “I will tell you, Jacob. I promise, but…” She decided to plunge in, to be honest. “I see it in your eyes. You’re still too close to changing. If I say the wrong thing…” She caught both his hands in hers. “I promise you, we don’t want to hurt you. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe. To bring you back.”
His eyes filled with tears. “Can you bring my brother back?”
Her own eyes misted. She didn’t answer ‑‑ she couldn’t. He shuddered and clenched his jaw. “Just…keep going,” he barked.
She nodded and moved, swiftly now, dragging him behind her. She heard Devlin shadowing them, but staying out of sight. Bless him. Moments later, she spotted the golden glow of lamplit windows. “Almost there,” she urged.
A couple of minutes later, they stepped onto the gravel path that led from the back of the house to the stable, potting shed, and garage. Knowing it was necessary, but still reluctant, she led her charge to the stable. The keys hung on a hook just outside the double doors. She held Jacob’s right hand tight in her left as she beckoned Devlin out of the shadows. Silently he joined them, lifting the keys and unlocking the sturdy padlocks holding three thick wooden bars in place. He lifted the bars aside and pushed the doors open, then moved back as Jenny and Jacob stepped inside.
Jenny flipped a switch just inside the door. They faced a spacious stall constructed of thick, sturdy timbers. The gate stood open, revealing a large iron ring bracketed to a huge wooden post sunk into the dirt floor near the back of the stall. Hanging from the ring were three heavy chains. Two were short chains capped with manacles. The third was longer, and looped at the far end like a gigantic choke chain. Jenny did choke when she saw it. She turned to Devlin. “Oh, Dev. No.”
But Jacob was nodding. He tugged at her. “I’m fighting, but it’s hard.” He grunted. She could hear the strain in his voice, feel the tension as his fingers clenched on her hand. “Do it now.”
She looked at Devlin, but Jacob shook his head, eyes narrowing. “No. You do it.”
Jenny stepped forward, breathing in short, sharp gasps. She hated this. Hated it.
Trembling, she knelt and fastened the manacles around his ankles. “H-hurry,” Jacob gritted through clenched teeth. He shuddered, bones shifting beneath his skin. She picked up the loop with numb fingers and stood. With a deep breath, she guided the loop over his head, settling the chain gently around his neck, then stepped back.
