Page 74 of In Her Own Rite

“Probably just a place teenagers come to smoke at night,” Quinn says, a wry smile pulling at her lips. “But for us, it’s perfect. We just need some clear space and privacy. Okay. Fighting stance.”

I move my feet the way Seb taught me: a little wider than shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, core strong, my hands up and open. Maren does the same.

“Good,” Quinn says, and her voice takes on a new quality, still firm, but soft and smooth. Her teaching voice, I realize. “Now close your eyes. Connect to your life force. Your inner strength.”

Strength. Okay. I close my eyes and think of my time in the gym. The way it felt when I did my first pull-up. Landing a punch for the first time. The sense of victory when I first got out from under Quinn’s weight.

Fighting. Proving myself.

“Em, I see your shoulders tensing,” Quinn says. “This doesn’t have to be strength the way you typically think about it. Think aboutyourstrength, the way theagaayitmade you.”

I take a breath, wanting to take her correction the way I do with boxing, and suddenly Kieran’s words that day in the woods come to me.You know how to love people. Memories flood to the surface:Maren lighting up on her birthday when I gave her that emerald sweater, the first I’d ever made. Seb’s wound coming together under my hand. Gabe’s chest healing for me.

“Alright, good,” Quinn says, as though she can see something in me change. “Okay. Now imagine that strength pooling in you, like energy. You can picture golden light, or something that feels more like you. Imagine it flowing down from your center, into the earth, taking root underground. Connecting you to the dust you came from.”

I imagine the energy in me pooling, swirling through my body. It’s not gold, but green and blue and purple like thekiyyulit. I picture it going down to the earth, hooking into something far below me: the heart of islands, the center of the earth.

“Alright. And now for that same energy, I want you to bring it upwards and connect to something above you,” Quinn says. “Imagine it flowing up through the crown of your head, up to the ancestors’ space. Have it hook in somewhere. You can imagine it looping around a star, if it helps. Traditionally, we imagine the moon.”

I try to imagine thekiyyulitdoing that, but it feels dopey and comical. I hesitate, trying to figure out something that feels right.

The ancestors’ space. I think of my mom, wherever she might be: somewhere beyond me, in a place I can’t know. And without my conscious mind being aware of it, I feel the energy do something different than what Quinn said, but it feels right. It doesn’t hook or take root, but it blends with thekiyyulitin the ancestors’ space. I don’t know where it is, but I picture it somewhere beyond me, tying me to her. To all the ancestors; the people who came before not just me, but her, too. All of us.

“Ground yourself in the moment,” Quinn says softly. “Take note of where you are. Now open your eyes.”

We do as told, and Quinn is standing firm, looking directly at me.

“Your life force comes from the soil below you, and the ancestors above. It was forged for you by theagaayit. It’s not too big or too small for you, but just right. It’s safe for you to trust.”

I doubt how much of this message is traditional FMA, and how much Seb or Gabe has told her about my issues. Still, it reaches something in me. My eyes sting, and as I take a deep breath, I feel something in my stomach ease. Somewhere in there is my wolf, small but present.

Not scared. Justthere.

“We’re gonna run now,” Quinn says gently. “The three of us together. Em, you lead. If you feel you can shift, let it happen, and we’ll shift with you. And once you’re there, find this feeling again. If you get scared, findthisfeeling, and let it bring you back to yourself. Okay?”

“Okay,” I say. I don’t know if I want this. But I only have two days left before Seb makes his call. And I can trust myself, right?

That’s what Mom said.You can trust yourself.

We do some quick stretches, and I wait for Quinn to take us out of the clearing. But she looks at me expectantly, and I remember. Right. I’m in charge now. I glance at Maren, who gives me an encouraging smile.

These people support me. They want what’s best for me. So, ignoring the nerves in my gut, I gather my courage and I start to run.

I lead them through the trees, towards the quarry and then up and around it. After a minute my nerves and the rhythm of my feet fall away. First, I find myself slipping into muscle memory. I think of my dad; I think of Seb making his decision soon, and the way Kieran looked when he told me he wanted to believe in me but just couldn’t. I feel my wolf grow tense, but then I catch myself.

No. We’re doing something different today.

I tap into that connectedness again; thekiyyulit-like energy flowing through me. I let myself think about my mom, watching me from wherever the ancestors are. I think about her painting at the dining room table in the house we got, once it was just the two of us. I feel that stinging in my eyes again, but it feels good this time. My wolf comes closer to the surface, but I don’t push her down or to the forefront. She’s just there.

I think of my own painting, and the moments I feel the most in flow. The way I feel when I’m swimming in the summer, when the water’s all around me and I feel like a part of something bigger than myself. I think of the garden behind thefikarig, the glow of the purple rhodoras; the way I feel when Kier and I are out there, laughing and letting the sun soak into our skin. And then I think of Mom again: the way she used to sing when she felt free. The way I felt when I was with her. Like I mattered. Like no matter what happened, we would be okay. We wouldfind a way through.

I swallow, and I realize I’m starting to cry, but today I don’t stop it. Quinn and Maren are on either side of me, making room for me, for my strength and my weakness, and for once I’m not ashamed.

You can trust yourself, Mom said in the woods. I feel my wolf at the edge of my skin and let my other mind fall away until she’s in charge. My body folds forward, shifting, bending, unfurling. And then I’m her, in her skin, just as we reach the edge of the woods and I see the sand and rocks of the shore before us.

Maren and Quinn shift beside me, Maren’s form strong and black, Quinn lean and gray. I don’t worry about the clothes we’re leaving behind, and I run and I run and I run. For the first time, I feel the joy in this body: the strength and delight, the playful edge of it. The part of me that feels free.

We run along the shore, Quinn dipping back and Maren beside me, and I feel myself wanting to laugh. A yip breaks out of my chest, and I run towards the edge of the water, dipping my paws in. It’s cold, but in my wolf form it just feels cool, calming.

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