Page 94 of The Source of Storms

“Tarren, hold on. Hold on, just breathe. I’m going to push it out,” the Ranger said. His voice was calm, but his hands shook.

Byrgir placed a hand over the Ranger’s where it gripped the arrow shaft. He looked him in the eye and shook his head. “It’ll be more pain to him than help.”

“But we can carry him to a healer. They can help,” the Ranger argued, grief already rattling his voice.

Byrgir shook his head slowly and put a hand on the man’s shoulder.

The Ranger coughed out a sob but nodded. He leaned over and took his friend’s hands. The dying Ranger pulled him close and whispered in his ear; I did not hear the words. The man leaned back and drew the blade from his dying friend’s belt, putting it in his hand and wrapping his fingers around the hilt.

“You show them who you are, when they come,” the Ranger said.

The dying man nodded.

Byrgir rose and placed a hand on my shoulder. The two of us stood looking down at the scene for a moment, but at the sound of shouts from the clearing, he pushed me gently into the forest.

A deep and volatile fury rose up inside me as the two of them left the dying man and jogged off into the woods. Before I turned away, I let out a long, mournful howl. It was answered by two wolf voices, not far from me now. I turned and followed them.

We dashed into the forest, Rangers and Keepers dodging through trees and leaping fleetfooted through underbrush around me. My rescuers split up to melt into the forest, harder to catch that way. Behind me, I felt Byrgir. I heard his breath, his steady footfalls on soft moss keeping pace with me. And to his side appeared Crow, silent and agile. Just behind him raced El, tearing through the forest like a small living wildfire. And appearing from the shadows of the trees like wraiths: Garmr, black as inky night, and Vardir, shining white as snow.

We ran and ran, until the screams and angry shouts faded, until the sounds of the city were gone. Finally, I slowed my pace to a trot, then stopped entirely. My companions caught up to me as I panted there, as a wolf, listening for pursuers. I heard none. The only sound was our own heavy breathing.

I felt the power inside me shift as I stood still and caught my breath. More control, more awareness returned as theadrenaline subsided. Where in the fountain I’d had no choice––I was enveloped by the power of the water and turned at its whim––now I felt my agency returning.

I dropped from my wolf form, feeling my body twist and shrink, rearranging with the same expulsion energy I had channeled into my changing. Waves of force rolled off me as my power and rage was released, and when the transformation was complete, I found myself crouched low to the ground, naked, with one hand on the earth. My hip dripped blood where the spear had torn my skin. I lifted my head and rose.

I stepped forward, naked in the morning sunlight slanting golden through pine boughs. My toes met cool, damp moss. My bare skin was kissed by the autumn breeze weaving gently through stoic trees, my senses overwhelmed with the flood of life and color around me. In that moment, in that breath, I was unearthed from Hell, reborn from death, unbound and free at last. Garmr approached me from behind and ducked his blocky head under my hand. I left it resting on his shoulder as he stood on alert by my side; Vardir stood watch behind us.

Byrgir and Crow bowed their heads in reverence. El followed suit, but not before throwing me a knowing, elated smile. I smiled back. Then my eyes fell on Byrgir, and a potent mixture of longing, relief, and melancholy swirling through me.

Byrgir drew his claymore and sank to one knee on the forest floor. He held the sword up to me, laid across upraised palms in offering. He bowed his head, then lifted his eyes to me.

“You are no Little Lamb, Halja,” he spoke, and my heart cracked at the sound of it, that deep, warm tone. “You are the wolf. You are the physical incarnation of love, strength, and resilience. You are the divine force of nature itself. And you are my queen. It would be my greatest honor to devote the rest of my days to fighting by your side, to serving you. I will spend every moment of my life striving to be worthy of being your warrior,your protector, your Keeper. Will you do me that honor? Will you bind yourself to me in blood and oath, so I may never lose you again?”

The emotion in his voice caused a painful lump to form in my throat as I fought the tears pooling in my eyes. I drew in a deep breath. Damp earth and pine needles, Byrgir’s warm spiced scent. I closed my eyes and listened to the wind through the boughs, felt it on my skin. The same as it had always been.

My head was quiet, peaceful. That horrible, dark presence was nowhere to be found. My mind was my own.

I knelt on the earth in front of him and lifted his face to me. He lowered his sword. Power hummed through me as our eyes met, and a warm glow of desire lit deep within my core. Wholesome, real, and true to the depths of my bones. I ran a hand through his hair and pressed my forehead to his, sharing his breath.

“You bow to no one, Byrgir. It is me who will spend my life working to be worthy of being your love, your queen. Me who will have to earn my place with you, my place with our people. Me who… who became so lost, and so broken, I am not sure I will ever be whole. But it would be my greatest honor to earn my place by your side again. To fight for it every day. I will give myself to you and this land and our people with my whole heart, with blood and oath and anything else you would have from me.” I looked into his evergreen eyes. “It is all yours. I am all yours.”

He swept me into his arms and kissed me. Passion and desperation and real, true fear of loss and death flowed between us, and I melted in the safety of his body. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him back deeply, pulling him into me, willing our bodies to fuse into one. His embrace was shelter and protection, his touch home. He lifted me up as he held me, my knees leaving the cool earth.

I don’t know how long we kissed that way, how long I touched his bearded jaw and stared into those sparkling green eyes flecked with gold in the morning sun.

Finally, Crow cleared his throat.

“Sorry to spoil the reunion, but we need to be moving.”

Byrgir lowered me gently to the ground. His eyes swept me quickly and fell on my bleeding hip. “We can’t have you traveling like this. Not for any long distance,” he declared, standing up and pulling me with him.

“What, naked or bleeding?” I asked.

“Both,” Byrgir and Crow replied in unison. El laughed in a four note ascending trill. Oh I’d missed that sparkling laugh of hers.

I knelt to the ground again and dug my bare fingers into the moss, placing my other hand over the jagged gash. I focused my intention, conjuring the words of a healing spell Eilith had taught me what felt like a lifetime ago. The bleeding stopped as the blood coagulated, but the wound did not close entirely. It would tear open again as we ran but, without the help of medicinal plants, it was all I could do for now. Although I had access to Source here, my own power was still weak and diminished.

Crow tore several strips of clean bandages and wrapped them around my waist, cinching them tight. As he tended to my wound, Byrgir pulled off his wool coat, along with his leather and plate armor. The decorative knotwork around the edges glinted in the sun, the motif of lunging wolves, jaws wide in ferocity as they danced around leather and steel. He removed his padded tunic and finally his shirt beneath. He tugged the shirt over my head, comically too large for me.

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