Chapter Twelve
The wolfsbane garden is simple enough to reach through the trees, and Serena only comes to the ground when sturdy branches become sparse. Sprinting with her trident at the ready, Serena pauses at the tree line, trying to hear past her own heavy breathing. Nothing.
Serena skirts the garden checking for footprints though she can't imagine werewolves would dare go near it. Then again, she had also believed that a werewolf couldn’t transform without a full moon.
These nights, anything goes.
Serena calls upon full body armor. Scales cover every last inch of her feet, legs, torso, and hands. Her movements are slow and weighted, but it is necessary when walking amidst the poisonous flowers.
Rainfall combined with shade from the canopy above keeps the ground cool and damp. A lingering bumblebee hovers nearby.
"Go home, it's closing time," Serena whispers to it.
Though Wolfsbane is a threatened species, growing only in damp woods and high elevations, Undine gardeners have been successful in yielding longer blooming periods for the sulfur-yellow flowers.
Serena picks up an abandoned Undine basket. I wonder if the maiden that found and reported the footprints will have enough courage to come retrieve her basket, or ever return to work, for that matter. Gardening in The Dry is one of the more dangerous occupations for the Undine, other than Werewolf Liaison, and maybe the King's Guard. There isn’t likely to be any other visitors to the secluded patch of land tonight, though. Gardeners are only required to come above seas to tend the plants a few nights during every moon cycle. It’s one of the perks that entice Undine to pick the job; they can enjoy free time the rest of the month.
Serena chooses a spot and begins filling her basket. The nectar of the flower causes severe itching and dermatitis on skin of Ungainlies, Undine, and werewolf alike. Ingesting concentrated wolfsbane sap can be fatal for any species.
Serena twirls the long stem of a flower. Yellow, bell-shaped blooms hang down the stem, overlapping each other. The ancients used the flower in the spell to create werewolves when the Undine needed protectors. Emerging only during a full moon, the wolves stood watch willingly while Undine maidens consummated and gave birth.
Slowly, Serena pokes one finger inside a flower, pushing aside petals to view the hollow spur at the apex. A drop of nectar slides onto the tip of her finger.
She gasps, dropping the flower and immediately bends to plunge her finger into the earth. The soil absorbs the nectar, cleansing her scaled extremity. Don't be stupid, she reminds herself.
Serena begins picking flowers more carefully this time. Once her basket is full, she sets off for her nesting tree. If the wolf is to return, this is where he would seek her. Working the next few hours, Serena labors in the painstakingly precise task of placing each stem where the flower is visible but won't be blown away from the wind.
Serena places several layers of wolfsbane surrounding the base of her tree. Moving up the trunk, she wiggles the stems in between cracks in the bark. Next are the lowest branches, where she learns to weave the stems together in a tight braid. Flowers wrap around the branches, plaited around as a living lace. She completes the ward by adorning the branches above her, just in case werewolves have learned the trick of climbing trees.
Serena settles into the crook of the tree, the same spot from which she observed the werewolf earlier. In her basket, there are only a few flowers left. Before boredom can lure her to sleep, she weaves more stems together. Scales make her fingers fat and clumsy, but she persists, slowly knitting together another tight lace of poison. This time, she loops it around the three prongs of her trident, arranging it so a large bulb hangs from each of the tips.
Finished, Serena rests her head back against the trunk, still blinking away sleep. She tries to recall what happened the last few times a wolf came to her. When she ventured above seas to remove overgrowth from the archive holes, she had sent out a call in the rain. It was her attempt at echolocation that worked so well underwater, in order to see better above. She did it again, last night. Though she heard movement before, the wolf did not show himself until after she made the call.
She sits up straight, a revelation running through her head. Maybe Undine sounds have a different purpose above water. There had to be some way they could call upon their protectors.
Serena licks her lips. It's worth a shot, she thinks. She sends out her signal. It comes out as a soft titter. The last few notes are elongated and nasal. The quality of the waves that come back are distorted and hazy. She turns her head, listening for signs that it has worked.
Silence.
The forest is just lightening with the rising sun, making it harder for Serena to see. Soon she will be at a full disadvantage, with alternating light and shadow playing tricks on her eyes.
She tries again, turning her head as she sends her sounds out. It is louder this time. If the wolf is anywhere nearby, he has to hear it. Before she even stops her song, movement in the brush catches her eye. She doesn't need to peer closer to see the two, glowing red eyes staring back at her. Has she called another one?
A growl answers back, and through the dim light, she can see the gleam of sharp fangs. This isn't the docile pup she encountered last night. If it is, he is no longer in a playful mood.
Fine, thinks Serena as she grips her trident. No more playing.
The wolf emerges from his cover, head low to the ground, ears pinned back. He slinks forward, eyes never leaving Serena.
"I wouldn't come any closer. Not unless you want to wear that pelt permanently," she says. Further contact with wolfsbane would complete the wolf's transformation, forcing a permanent change to animal form.
Sunlight hits his fur, showing off his coloring. It is the same wolf that stole, then returned, her mother's necklace. He continues to slink forward, his crescent-shaped mark on the side of his face glinting under the moonlight. Serena will have little chance of evading his jump if he risks crossing the line of wolfsbane.
I could move higher up the tree, where he could never reach me.
Serena dismisses the thought. I don't want another chase, I have to stand my ground.
Before she can convince herself otherwise, Serena jumps down. Landing softly with her trident at the ready, a puff of yellow flowers float up around her like a ring of smoke. Before the last one settles on the ground, the wolf lunges. Serena fights back the instinct to turn tail and run. She steels herself and steps forward to meet him.
They each take two long strides toward the outer ring of yellow. Serena extends the trident and cries out at the top of her lungs. The wolf freezes, right at the line, with the three sharp points of her weapon centimeters from his eyes.
Serena holds the heavy, golden trident steady, willing her arms not to shake. The wolf glares at her.
"I wouldn't come any closer," Serena says again, this time in a lower, more controlled voice.
The wolf hasn't moved. Serena jerks the spear forward, intending to intimidate.
He pulls his lips back in a snarl. Serena jabs again and he returns a sharp yelp. The wolfsbane on the tip of the trident is at the wolf's nose. His nostrils flare in distaste. The forest has gone silent as the two creatures consider their next move. Layers of scales make Serena's arms heavy. Another few moments of this and her weakness will begin to show.
Finally, the werewolf takes a step back. Serena lowers her elbows, leaving the trident aimed at his face.
He raises his eyebrows at Serena; it is her turn to yield.
Serena lets the back end of her trident drop so her weapon is now parallel with her body. Drawing her shoulders back and her chin high, she clicks her heels together, keeping her toes pointed slightly to the outside. It is a stance worthy of the King's Guard.
The dog seems satisfied. He sits down, then shuffles his front paws together and puffs out his chest.
Serena peers closer. Is he making fun of me?
She presses her lips together and allows her shoulders to relax
. "I am Serena Moon-Shadow, Werewolf Liaison of the Undine Kingdom. I propose a temporary truce, in order that we may confer."
The wolf snorts, looking away.
"But in our Ungainly forms." Serena swallows. "You retract your fangs and I'll do the same with my scales."
The wolf is still looking away, eyes following a fly buzzing too close to his face. He snaps at the fly, misses, then licks his jaws.
"And," continues Serena, tone hesitant, "I want to thank you…for returning my necklace." Her fingers touch the charm at her neck. She still doubts if he can understand speech as a werewolf. She lowers her voice even more; it is only a whisper now. "It was my mother's."
His eyes drift back to her and he nods.
He can understand.
Her eyes go wide. She clears her throat. "So please, can we talk?"
He cocks his head to the side, as if he is considering.
"Look, I'll leave my weapon." Serena rests the trident against the trunk of the tree. "We'll keep our distance. I'll be in my tree and you stay outside of the wolfsbane."
The wolf doesn't make a move, so Serena takes her eyes from it briefly enough to jump up to a low branch. She pulls herself up, creeping forward just a bit. The tips of the trident are within reach. She could grab it and pull it up if need be.
The wolf is still sitting, but at least he appears interested.
"I only have until the next moon," Serena says, light sarcasm touching her words. The sun has just barely risen.
Serena resists a smile when the wolf snorts again.
With a long yawn, the wolf gets his hind legs under him and stands. He leans back, head dipping down and rear raising for a stretch. Then he walks.
He circles the outline of wolfsbane, occasionally stopping to sniff. Lingering where the gaps between each bloom are wider, he is searching for the weak link.
Serena shifts, glancing at her trident.
The wolf circles the tree once, tail swishing as he goes. On the second time around, he disappears into the only spot behind the tree Serena cannot follow with her eyes and he does not emerge.
Instead, Serena hears hollow popping, a rustle over the dead leaves on the ground, and then a groan.
Serena bobs her head back and forth on each side of the tree, straining to get a glimpse. She sees a tail and then nothing.
"What are you doing?" Serena asks. The words come out too quick, giving away her fear.
She opens her mouth to ask again when she hears footsteps. The wolf is circling back around. Serena grips the branch, angling closer to her trident. The ground is almost the same color as the wolf's fur, but she squints, trying to catch a glimpse of long, yellowing claws.
Instead, she finds toes. Ungainly toes. Human toes.
There are ten of them. Transfixed, Serena follows the smooth, tanned skin up. Ankles move and flex as he continues to walk. Serena blushes as she stares at his calves. Next are the knees, then…
The man drapes a cape over his shoulders and pulls the opening closed.
Serena meets his eyes. "What—?"
"I am obliging your request, mermaid," he answers.
The Rising Page 16