by TJ Klune
because of you
all of you
We were there, we were there, we were with him as he showed us what he meant. They were quick, these thoughts, but filled with so much life it was a wonder all of this could come from just one person.
Here was Ox, a large and quiet boy, staring in wonder at the family before him, a tornado on his back.
Here was Ox, sitting behind the garage, surrounded by Rico and Tanner and Chris and Gordo, snowman wrapping paper in his lap holding a shirt with his name on it.
Here was Ox, running with me and Kelly under the light of the full moon, and he was laughing, laughing, laughing.
Here was Ox, heart tripping at the sight of a girl named Jessie, dropping tools and walking into a wall.
Here was Ox, and he was watching our mother sing an old Dinah Shore song, that she didn’t mind being lonely when her heart knew he was lonely too.
Here was Ox, asking a man with a secret smile if they could be friends.
Here was Ox, pressing his palm against Bambi’s sweaty forehead, a newborn Joshua wailing in her arms.
Here was Ox, his forehead against Dominique’s, telling her that she had a place with us, that she could stay as long as she wanted to.
Here was Ox and me, sitting in a car, and he was saying he’s never kissed a guy, and then I kissed him, and oh.
Here was Ox, taking Gavin in his arms and saying that this was the place he belonged.
And here, here, here was Ox, and his heart was full. Joe was smiling at him. It was such a tiny thing, but it meant more to Ox than almost anything else in the world. Joe was smiling, and Ox loved him fiercely.
this, Ox whispered, this is what you have made me into this this this is what i have become because of you thank you thank you for loving me for holding me for making me whole.
Everything.
We gave him everything we could with the last of our strength.
His eyes were blazing.
Livingstone snarled.
And then Ox pushed up, and Ox pushed down, and Livingstone tried to pull away, tried to stop him, but his fangs were caught in Ox’s hands, and his jaws creaked and groaned as his mouth opened wider and wider, tongue snaking out.
Ox said, “Go to hell.”
He pulled the jaws apart as wide as they would go, and then widened them further until they snapped, bones breaking. While the beast’s lower jaw hung uselessly, Ox pulled his bloody hands from the fangs and grabbed him by the snout.
He twisted Livingstone’s head as hard as he could.
The beast’s neck broke.
His one remaining eye dimmed.
He collapsed to the ground, his shift melting away.
His arm slid from Ox with a wet squelch.
We all hit the ground.
Ox stood before us, skin pale as he swayed.
I could see through the massive hole in his stomach to the trees behind him.
He said, “Mom?”
And then he too fell.
Joe broke his shift, screaming Ox’s name. He ran to him, pulled his head into his lap. He tilted his head back and howled a song of horror.
I hit the ground on human hands and knees.
“No,” Gordo said in a choked voice. “Ox? Ox!”
I turned my head to see Gavin standing above his father.
Livingstone’s neck was at an odd angle. His jaw had been broken, and he made a gurgling sound, blood pouring from his mouth. His arm twitched as if he were trying to reach for his son.
His heart stuttered.
And then it stopped.
Gavin turned away.
Joe was screaming Ox’s name over and over, and Gordo knelt beside them, muttering under his breath, holding his hand out over Ox’s stomach. His fingers shook as his tattoos glowed, but the hole in Ox’s stomach wasn’t healing. It was too great.
“Help him,” Joe sobbed, looking up at all of us. Tears streaked down his cheeks. “You have to help him. You have to fix him. You have to make him better, please, oh please don’t leave me, Ox. You can’t. You can’t.”
Our mother settled behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She leaned her forehead against the back of his neck. She was crying.
Gordo gasped and pulled his hand back, his tattoos going dark. “No,” he muttered, shaking his head. “No. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.” He leaned over Ox’s face. Ox’s eyes were open. He tried to smile, but it twisted into a grimace. “We’re going to fix you,” Gordo promised him. “I can do this. I can do this. Ox, you have to hold on, you hear me? You have to hold on.”
Ox reached up and touched his face, mouth opening and closing soundlessly.
Gordo’s whole body shook. He turned his face in Ox’s hand, kissing his palm.
We all gathered around him. Rico and Tanner and Chris looked shell-shocked. Jessie was crying, Dominique’s arms wrapped around her shoulders. Mark put his hand in Gordo’s hair. Kelly and Robbie knelt beside Ox, their hands clasped between them, tears falling from their eyes. Bambi sat at Ox’s feet, her head pressed against her knees as she rocked back and forth.
I laid my hands on Ox’s legs, trying to hold on to the bond that stretched between us. It was fraying, the threads snapping. No matter what I did, I couldn’t stop it. Gavin put his hand on my shoulder, squeezing tightly.
Joe curled over Ox’s head.
Ox’s chest heaved. He said, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Please,” Joe begged. “Please don’t leave me.”
Ox said, “Never. I’ll always….” Then, “Hello. I see you. I lost you, but now I found you again. Mom, I did it. I was brave. I was—” His face twisted as his body seized. He screamed as we struggled to hold down his arms and legs. The cords in his neck stood out, his eyes red and violet.
And then, in the distance, came the thunderous howl of a wolf.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
Kelly whispered, “That… that sounded like—”
“It was,” another voice said.
We looked up.
There, standing on the dirt road, were the people of Green Creek, Aileen and Patrice at the front. We hadn’t even heard them approach. The wolves of Caswell were mixed in with the crowd, and their eyes were glowing.
But it was all the others that I looked to. The people of this town. Our people. They held each other up, some more injured than others. Their eyes were wide. Some of them were crying. But they stood true, even if their numbers had dwindled. Will should have been there, at the forefront.
Aileen said, “We must get to the clearing. Quickly now.”
“Why?” Joe asked in a broken voice, Ox muttering deliriously in his lap.
“Because of all dat you’ve done,” Patrice said quietly. “You’ve given everyting. It’s time for your territory to give you someting in return.”
We were weak. We were battered and bruised and broken. Rico could barely stand on his own. Chris and Tanner propped him up. Jessie’s back was shredded, but Dominique was there to hold her close. Mark pulled Gordo to his feet, his knees buckling. Joe tried to lift Ox on his own, but Ox screamed in pain. “I know,” Joe whispered. “I know. I’m trying. I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.” He looked to me. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this on my own.”
I didn’t know how we were going to carry Ox. I was having a hard enough time just standing up. I gathered the last of my strength because Ox needed us. He needed all of us. We’d make it work.
I couldn’t speak when the people of Green Creek gently pushed us aside. They came forward, men and women surrounding Ox. They crouched next to him as Mom pulled Joe away.
One of the men said, “Keep him as even as you can. On three. One. Two. Three.”
They lifted him onto their shoulders.
Ox cried out for his mother, for his father.
His arms hung, spread wide from his body.
Blood dripped onto their arms. Their necks. Their f
aces.
They didn’t let him go.
The others took each of us by the hand, tugging us after our fallen Alpha. I looked over when someone took mine. Hillary. The woman who’d been standing with Will before he died. I asked, “Why are you doing this?”
And she said, “Because you’re our wolves.”
THEY LED US TOWARD THE CLEARING. Ox kept speaking, talking to ghosts that only he could see. Once, he laughed, a quiet chuckle that caused my eyes to burn.
He said, “Daddy, where are you going?”
He said, “There’s new people next door. A family.”
He said, “This is a dream. Ah god. This is a dream.”
He said, “You’re wearing a bow tie.”
He said, “You can’t have them. They’re mine.”
And on and on it went.
We reached the clearing. The stars were infinite. And though the moon was but a sliver, I felt it pulling at me.
They laid him down in the center of the clearing. He barely reacted, too caught up in the conversation he was having with those we couldn’t see. He was telling his mother that he missed her, that it was so nice to see her again, and wouldn’t she please say his name.
Gordo’s face hardened as he knelt next to Ox. Joe did the same on the other side. They both looked to Aileen and Patrice. “Can you help him?” Gordo asked hoarsely.
Aileen hesitated before shaking her head. “It’s not something we can do. Or rather, not just us. It will take all of you. But a price must be paid.”
Mom was staring at her. “Will it work?”
Patrice said, “You know da stories.”
“What are you talking about?” Kelly demanded, Robbie barely able to hold him back. “We don’t have time for this bullshit. He’s dying now. We can’t just—”
Mom touched his arm. “Do you remember what I told you? When Alpha Shannon Wells passed? What happens to the power of the Alpha when there’s no one else to take their place?”
“It returns to the moon,” Joe whispered.
She nodded. “And there was more. The sacrifice was never about Ox. It was about you, Joe.”
And I understood. I remembered the words she’d spoken as Alpha Wells burned.
An Alpha, strong of heart and mind, mated to one they love most, can give their power away in order to save a life. To a Beta they return, never again to hold the power of an Alpha. Just a story, of course. Wolves pass along the Alpha power to their successors constantly, though usually not under the threat of death. I’ve never heard of bringing someone back from the brink in such a way. Regardless, it was too late for her. And stories are just that—stories.
“Do you love him?” Aileen asked gently.
Joe said, “Yes.”
“Do you understand what it means?” Patrice asked.
Joe said, “Yes.”
Our mother put her hand in his hair. “You would no longer be the Alpha of all.”
He wiped his eyes. “I don’t care. Someone else can lead. Anyone else.” He looked down at Ox, and his chest hitched at the sight of the grass underneath him through the hole in his stomach. “I would give anything.”
“And you will,” Aileen said. “All of you will, one last time. Bennett pack, gather the strength you have. We’ll do what we can, but it’ll be up to you and you alone. He needs to hear your song. Howl him home.”
“They’re not alone,” a voice said, and I turned my head.
The people of Green Creek had gathered around us, faces solemn but determined. It was Grant who’d spoken, the man who’d narrowly avoided death on the roof of the garage. He stepped forward and spoke again. “We’re here. We may not be wolves, but we fight for this town. And for them.” The people nodded.
Aileen smiled. “Of course they’re not alone. I shouldn’t have said otherwise.”
We sat around Ox. Gavin was on my left, his shoulder pressed against mine. Kelly was on my right, his hand on my knee. His other hand was on Joe. Our mother sat behind him again, laying her head on his back. Bambi, Jessie, and Dominique sat at his feet, their hands on his bare ankles. Rico, Tanner, and Chris were on the other side of him, sitting behind Gordo and Mark, knees pressed against their backs. Gordo hung his head as Mark whispered songs of love and hope in his ear.
And the others.
All the others.
They stood behind us. The ones closest to us put their hands on our necks, our backs. Our shoulders and hair. There were too many of them to get too close, but they held on to each other instead, all of us connected. I felt them. Each of them. Not one person wanted to be elsewhere. They were here because they wanted to be, to see this through to the end.
“Gordo,” Aileen said, “you saw him for who he was before anyone else here. It must begin with you.”
A tremor rolled through him. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do.”
“You know,” she said quietly. “I promise you do. There’s a reason you chose him. Let him hear your song.”
He nodded.
He took a breath.
He held out his stump over the open wound in Ox’s middle. The tattoos burst to life, the roses blooming, the vines crawling along the scar where the raven had once been. Mark’s own raven, the mark on his throat, fluttered its wings.
Ox said, “Light. All I see is light.”
“Look,” Gavin whispered.
The ground underneath Ox was moving. Grass shifted through the ragged wound. The earth split apart, and a shiny black curve appeared through the soil.
It pushed through the dirt.
A beak.
A raven.
It blinked as it pulled itself out of the ground. It shook its head and wings. It eyed each of us, head cocked. And then it lowered its beak back to the earth. It jerked its head back up. A vine with thorns pulled free. The raven let it go, and as we watched, a rose bloomed through Ox’s stomach.
The raven croaked as it spread its wings. Then, almost quicker than we could follow, it shot up into the air and hung suspended above us, wings wide, feathers ruffling.
Joe lifted Ox’s hand and pressed it against his chest, just above his heart.
He turned his face toward the sky.
And howled.
Each of us joined him in turn, adding our voices to his.
We sang with everything we had.
But it wasn’t just the wolves. It was everyone. All the people, witches and wolves and humans alike.
We all sang for him.
The rose opened.
At its center was a light.
And before it exploded, I saw my father standing in the trees.
He was smiling.
Then everything went white.
WE STOOD IN THE CLEARING.
The moon was full.
Doors. So many doors. Doors that went on forever.
But it was different than it’d been before.
Every single door was open.
“What is this?” Joe whispered.
I looked over my shoulder. The people of Green Creek were gone, but in their places were little balls of light. Dozens of them.
Gordo moved first. He walked toward the closest door. It was made of old wood, symbols carved into the frame. Vines and roses in such detail, they almost seemed real.
On top of this door sat the raven.
It bobbed its head up and down as Gordo approached.
The doorway was black. It looked like empty, vast space.
But as Gordo got closer, the blackness faded.
Voices came from just inside the doorway.
Gordo’s chest hitched.
He said, “Is this….”
A woman laughed. A child squealed in joy. And then Robert Livingstone said, “Oh where, oh where can he be? Has anyone seen my son? His hiding place is so good that I’m worried he’ll be lost forever!”
He sounded different.
Younger.
Lighter.
Happier.
Gordo’s hand shook as he r
eached toward the door.
Gavin stopped him. One moment he was by my side, and the next he was pulling Gordo away from the door. Gordo struggled, but Gavin was stronger, and he was saying, “No, Gordo, no. It’s not real. Don’t.” He wrapped his arms around Gordo’s waist, holding him in place even as Gordo tried to break free. “It’s not real.”
“I have to see,” Gordo snapped. “I have to—”
“There you are,” Livingstone said, and the child (Gordo?) burst out laughing. “I thought you were gone forever! I was so worried.”
“Never,” Gordo said from somewhere inside the door. And in the clearing, still in the grip of his brother, he said, “Never, never, nevermore.”
Mark went to them. Gordo stopped trying to pull away, hanging his head. Mark stood in front of him, blocking the doorway.
He said, “I remember this. You were… six? Seven? You would always hide. Your mom knew where you were, but she’d never tell. And he would find you. He would always find you. Memory. It’s a memory.”
“It’s not real,” Gavin said. “It’s past. It’s ghosts. Distraction. Slipping. It’s slipping.”
I felt cold.
“I want to see her,” Gordo whispered.
“I know you do,” Mark said quietly. “But she’s not here. She’s gone. Gavin’s right. This isn’t real.”
From the doorway, Gordo’s mother said, “What a lovely day. I feel better. My headache is gone. I can think clearly. Isn’t that funny?”
“I’m glad,” Livingstone said, and his heart stuttered. “I knew it would just take time.”
“He’s lying,” Gavin said. “Gordo, he’s lying. Stay here. With us.”
“Yes,” Gordo said. “Yes. Yes.”
The door slammed closed.
The roses in the wood of the door, only seconds before vibrant and wild, looked dead.
The raven was gone.
“Glamour,” Robbie said, reaching up to touch the mark between his neck and shoulder. “It’s a glamour.”
Kelly took his hand, holding on as tight as he could.
We moved as one past the doors. I tried as hard as I could to stare straight ahead, not to let myself become distracted. But I could feel the pull, the urge to go to one of the doors and look inside, to see what I could see.
Robbie said, “Mom?” and it crumbled and cracked.