Page 8 of Father of the Wolf

Rath’s truth held more mystery. It possibly was general and meant that he would fight for what was right. Or it could mean that Rath would be Dàn’s defender? If so, then he was already fulfilling it.

Both boys were dedicated and serious and lacked the youth they should have enjoyed. Of course, they had their young bodies, but they were controlled by the calm minds of elders. Neither had been given the chance to act young and carefree. After the massacre, Acair had taken these two to hunt as they were the only ones old enough to control their wolf forms. From then on, they had shouldered responsibility like adults and missed out on what should have been their childhood.

As dusk was gathering, Athair turned to look to the young men behind him. “Return to yourselves”, he thought to them. A shimmer of power and mist flowed over them, and all three of them shifted to human form. “We draw near the edge of our territory. Tomorrow we will need to announce ourselves. We should hunt here, and then find a place to rest for the night.”

Neither boy answered him but shimmered into wolf form again. As he did often, Athair was grateful for the power of their magic which allowed them to shift any items they carried with them. Each had brought a small pack, which included changes of clothes and other small necessities. When they shifted forms, the items were bound to them. A simple spell learned early kept human objects from interfering with a wolf’s movement.

Athair watched as the two wolves moved out together to flush game. Rath was strong, heavily muscled and dark gray. A nearly black wolf. Dàn was lean, fast, and white. They worked well together and quickly, cleanly catching two rabbits, enough to satisfy their hunger. Because they did not wish to show themselves just yet, they devoured their dinner without a fire or cooking it in the human way.

Athair chose not to hunt. He anxiously studied the area looking for any wolf or human sign. They had crossed the last road many miles back. By avoiding the settled areas, they had made it this far without any contact with humans.

Clans did not live near each other because they tended to fight one or both clans into extinction if territory lines came into dispute. Athair had led Rath and Dàn for nearly three weeks now, and it was likely they would soon be met with less than open arms. Still, anything besides open violence would be considered a good sign.

* * *

Hope wondered if what she remembered had really happened that night. She went over and over the event, first with the police after the body had been found, and then later by herself, replaying every detail, even the illogical ones.

She knew she had seen a dog-like animal go into the alley. She had seen several other animals in the alley, in addition to the men. They attacked the woman, and then one of them attacked Hope. Then an animal looked back at her from the alley after the attack.

All this was fact, but remembering details and specific impressions was not so easy. And her conclusions were impossible.

She had begun to think the animals were the men, which was completely crazy. She knew that couldn’t be, and yet her conclusion felt right. Four animals. Four men. The one who had attacked her and those animal eyes, shining out from the darkness.

Werewolves.

She was so far gone around the bend that she had Steve take her to the library while he went grocery shopping, and she spent almost two hours researching local animal attacks. What she found was that a very high percentage of those killed were attractive young women, traits animals wouldn’t notice. Just what was it that werewolves looked for in prey? Her nervous fears beat at her as she sat at the round table again, surrounded by a stack of books about fantasy animals. She found plenty of information about the mythological beasts, but none of it was reassuring.

Common legend said that werewolves were any mortal able to change into a wolf or a half-wolf. This ability was explained by the use of magic, a curse from the Greek god, Zeus, or a biological disease called Lycanthropy. The books went on to tell how werewolves were difficult to exterminate. They could be killed with silver arrows or bullets and could also be burned to death, decapitated, or drowned.

She also found a few supposedly historical accounts of villages in Europe that had been harassed by the monsters. In each of the two cases she read, a werewolf was caught and convicted of stealing and killing children. To Hope, these accounts seemed more like the lynching of pedophiles rather than proof of werewolves.

“Do werewolves exist?” Even at a whisper the question sounded insane.

As a teenager, she’d seen a shrink to help her with her issues. Did she still have the number? Maybe she should set some time aside for a visit. Wouldn’t that be an interesting discussion?

No doubt the professional would see her questions about werewolves as more evidence of her repressed guilt. Who knows, perhaps he would be right.

* * *

Athair woke at dawn when Rath nudged his shoulder slightly with his nose. The three had slept in wolf form and were now surrounded by seven silent unmoving shadows. The shapes were of wolves. But by their unnatural stillness, he discerned that they were members of the Bear Clan, not true wolves. Athair had hoped that they would be able to greet the neighboring clan at the border on equal terms. However, the Bear Clan didn’t seem to remember the territorial lines as being in the same place he did. If they expected a challenge, the situation could turn unpleasant very quickly.

Athair searched the shadows for a leader to address. He turned slowly to the largest of the shadows, which stood closest to them. As Athair focused his attention on it, the shadow defined itself into a golden-eyed, tawny wolf, which stepped forward aggressively. This new wolf had a strange scent to him. Athair shifted to the form of a man and stood with his arms relaxed, trying to appear unthreatening. Both Rath and Dàn remained wolves and bristled at his sides. He would have to talk to them later about diplomacy.

The golden-eyed one shimmered into a tall blond man who said bluntly, “I am Sundair. What are your intentions here?”

“We seek trade and friendship.” Athair extended his perceptions, hoping to catch some of Sundair’s emotions to help him know how to best approach him. Yet all he sensed was a subtle mixture of turmoil overlaying a fierce protectiveness.

“We need no more trade or friends.”

One of the smaller wolves at his side shifted into a slender blond woman. She looked delicate next to the man. Laying a hand on Sundair’s arm, she spoke quietly in another language. He answered her, and she turned to Athair with a slight smile. “We will take you back to our Alphas if you wish. Otherwise, you must turn back here.”

“We would be pleased to meet your Alphas. I am Athair, son of Ankulf. And these are Rath, son of Rayvir, and Dàn, my chosen son. We are of the Eagle Clan.” Rath and Dàn both shifted into human form.

The female’s smile, though still tense, brightened somewhat. “I am Domari, sister to Sundair, son of Sandulfr, son of Sulf. We’ll need to travel quickly and silently for the next few days. There are human hunters in these woods, among other dangers.” After that brief explanation, she and her brother shifted to their wolf forms and started off toward the west at a ground-eating lope. Obviously, she was done with conversation and expected them to follow her, which they did. Athair, Rath and Dàn found themselves in the middle of a loose, fast-moving formation.

“Thank you, Athair.” Dàn’s silent words entered Athair’s mind as they ran.

“You know my feelings for you.” Athair didn’t want Dàn to have any disadvantage among the Bear Clan. In elder times, the clans placed great importance on a man’s lineage. “I did not wish you to lose face to any here.” Often, posturing can be as important as strength. Parentage could be important to other clans in a way that had not existed for the Eagle Clan since the massacre.

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