by T. J. Klune
“I don’t care. I don’t care what’s going on. I don’t care if I’m dreaming or awake or if I’ve lost it. Fucking wolves and witches and I don’t fucking care. Where the fuck is Joe?” My hands were fists at my sides. Carter and Kelly laid their ears flat against their heads and slunk down, trying to make themselves smaller.
Thomas said, “He needs your help.”
And Gordo said, “Fuck that. You don’t put that on him.”
But then Thomas had him by the throat and he was more wolf than man, though he still stood on two legs. The white hair had returned, and the claws had extended. His teeth were bigger, like fat nails, and the noise that spilled from him caused gooseflesh along my arms and neck.
“You are here,” Thomas snarled at him, “because I respected your father and the covenant. Or at least what he once was. Don’t mistake that for anything more. You are not pack by your own choice.”
“And yet you call me for this?” Gordo snapped, struggling in Thomas’s grasp. “And I came. I’m not bound for shit and I still came.”
“He is my son. And the next Alpha. You will show respect.”
“Fuck you,” he wheezed.
And I said, “Stop.”
And they did.
Gordo fell to the ground, sucking in air.
Thomas breathed heavily, eyes red, growling low.
And then I saw it. Behind them. In the clearing. In the moonlight.
A dark shape, curled on the ground. A flicker of light rose up around it. Green, maybe. Deep green, but it was gone before I could be sure.
I pushed past Gordo and Thomas. I didn’t have time for them.
Carter and Kelly were at my sides, tongues lolling from their mouths. Mark was behind me, his nose pressing against my back.
Another wolf lay on the ground, almost as big as Mark, and I thought Elizabeth. She was colored like her sons, grays and blacks and whites. She raised her head at my approach and her eyes were the same, so beautiful and blue, and I remembered her telling me how she was done with her green phase. She had laughed and spun me in a circle, flecks of paint on her hands.
They were the same, but I could see the sadness in them.
“I don’t….” I shook my head.
“She can’t hear you,” Gordo said quietly from behind me. “There’s an earth ward around them infused with silver. It blocks out all sound and smells.” There was another flash of green, and in the moonlight, I could see slashes in the earth forming a circle around Elizabeth.
“They’re trapped?” I was horrified.
“By choice,” Gordo said. “It’s safer for Joe as he is right now. It blocks out everything except for his mother.”
I took a step toward Elizabeth, but Gordo grabbed my arm, holding me back.
“You have to listen,” he said. “Before.”
“Before?”
Elizabeth never took her eyes from me. They flashed orange. I couldn’t see Joe and my head hurt.
“We have… we need something. Anything. A thing that keeps us holding on to our humanity.” Gordo’s grip loosened on my arm, but he didn’t let me go completely. There was an almost electric quality to the touch and I wondered if it was the tattoos. Or him. Or whatever this was. “Magic takes a lot out of you. It can pull you places you never thought it could go. Dark corners that are better left alone.”
“And wolves?”
“Wolves need it to remind them they’re part human. Especially born wolves. It’s easier for them to get lost in the animal. And they do, without something to tie them to the rational world.”
I said, “Nothing about this is rational,” and my voice was rough. I felt like I was tipping into something I couldn’t come back from.
Gordo cut through the panic. “Joe will go feral, Ox. He’ll go feral if he doesn’t have a tether. Usually it’s pack or family or an emotion like love and a sense of home. It can be anger and hatred, but at least it’s something. He doesn’t have it now. It won’t happen today. Or tomorrow or maybe even a year from now. But if he can’t be tied to his humanity, then one day he’ll go feral and he’ll never change back. And a wolf without a tether is dangerous. A… decision would have to be made.”
A flash in the dark, a memory from before. About tethers. “Mark said….”
Gordo knew. He sighed. “Yeah. He did. You’re my tether, Ox.”
“When?”
“When you turned fifteen. When I gave you the shirts.”
“I didn’t feel any different.”
You belong to us now.
“Yes, you did.”
“Fuck,” I whispered.
“It just happened,” he pleaded. “I never meant to—”
“Can I be both?”
“Both?”
“To you and him.”
“I don’t… maybe. If anyone could, it’d be you.”
“Why me? I’m nothing. I’m nobody.”
He squeezed my arm. “You are greater than any of us, Ox. I know you don’t see it. I know what you think. But you are more.”
I was a man now, so I pushed away the burn in my eyes. “What do I need to do?”
“Are you sure?” Thomas said from behind me.
I only had eyes for Elizabeth. I could feel the wolves around me, but I never looked away from her.
“Yes.” Because it was Joe.
“It’ll be fast,” Gordo said. “The ward will drop. You’ll hear him. He’s been… loud. Don’t let it frighten you. He’ll catch your scent. Talk to him. Let him hear your voice. He doesn’t… look like himself right now. Okay? But he’s still Joe.”
“Okay.” My heart thundered in my chest.
This was not a dream.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Gordo said quietly.
“Okay.”
“Ox. You have a choice.”
Finally, I looked over at him. “And I’ve made it.”
He held my gaze, eyes searching. I don’t know if he found what he wanted, but eventually he nodded tightly. He brought up his left arm, palm toward the sky. All the tattoos on his arms had faded except for one, which was a deep and earthy green. It was two lines waving in sync with each other. He rubbed two fingers over them and muttered under his breath. The air turned static and my ears popped. The wolves around me growled and I looked back at Elizabeth.
The circle flared briefly and then went black. Dull and lifeless.
And then I heard it.
Low growling. Snarls. Small and angry.
I took a step toward Elizabeth. I held out my hand.
She pressed her nose against my palm and breathed in and out.
And then silence.
Hands stretched over Elizabeth from her other side. Black claws.
“Joe,” I said quietly.
And he launched himself at me. Before I could move. Before I could think. There was a shout of warning, harsh growls. I was knocked off my feet, a heavy weight atop me. Claws dug into my shoulders, little pinpricks that burned. I saw flashes of teeth, eyes that flickered orange and red and blue and green. A nose was at my neck. My cheek. Inhaling me. Breathing me in.
He said, “Ox,” and it was low and dark and angry.
He was caught partway between boy and wolf, like Thomas had been. Thomas had been in control of his.
Joe was not.
White hairs grew and receded along his arms and face. Fangs pierced his gums, then grew flat. There was a boy. Then a half wolf. Then a boy again. He groaned and said, “Ox, it hurts it hurts it—” and the rest was lost as his wolf came forward and words dissolved into spitting growls. His eyes flew through the shifting colors and for a moment, the colors combined into something like violet and violence and the claws on my chest pressed down harder. I winced at the pain and heard others around me and it sounded like they were about to tear him away from me and I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let them take him away.
I said, “My dad left when I was twelve.”
Everyone grew quiet.
<
br /> The claws pulled away, only just.
“He drank too much. I told myself nothing was wrong, but there was. I think he used to hit my mom, but I don’t know if I’ll ever get the courage to ask her. She wore a dress to a picnic once and I think he tore it, and if I find out he did, if he hurt her and I didn’t know, then I would make him suffer.”
Joe whined, sounding pained.
“He put his suitcase by the door and he left. He said I was dumb and stupid and that people were going to give me shit. He told me he didn’t want to regret me and so he had to leave. The thing is, I think he already did. I think he regretted every single part of his life. But he was right about some things. I was dumb and stupid because I thought he’d come back. I thought he’d come back one day smelling like he always did, of motor oil and Pabst and sweat, because that is the smell of my father.”
And it was. It had always been that way.
“But he didn’t come back. And he won’t. I know. But it’s not because I did anything wrong. He was the one that was wrong. He left and we stayed and he was wrong. But I’m okay with that now. I’m okay with getting left behind because I have my mom. I have Gordo and the guys. And I have you. Joe, if I hadn’t gotten left behind, I wouldn’t have you, so you need to focus, okay? Because I can’t have anything happen to you. I need you here with me, Joe, and I don’t care if you’re a boy or a wolf. Stuff like that don’t matter to me. You’re my friend, and I can’t lose that. I will never regret you. Ever.”
It was the most I’d ever spoken at one time. My mouth felt dry, my tongue thick. I ached all over, from everything. I heard my father’s voice in my head, and he laughed at me. He said it wouldn’t work. “You’re gonna get shit,” he said.
I hadn’t known when Gordo had tethered himself to me. Not in a way that could be defined.
But I knew what it was now.
And I felt it. This warmth in my chest, up through my neck and arms. My face and legs. Like little flutters of sunlight through the leaves of a tree.
The wolves around me began to howl. Their song rolled over me, and I thought it would break me apart. I yelled along with them, melding my voice with theirs. I’m sure it was nothing like the song of a wolf, the measly cry of a human. But I gave it all I had because it was all I could give.
The howls died down.
The weight lifted from my chest.
I opened my eyes.
Above me stood a wolf. He was smaller than the others. Thinner. And he was pure white, not a single discoloration on his entire body. His ears twitched. His nostrils flared.
He looked down at me. His eyes were orange, bright, and beautiful. They flared briefly before they faded back to his normal blue, and I knew he was in there. I knew it was still the little boy who thought I smelled of pinecones and candy canes. Of epic and awesome. I tried not to think about how many things made more sense now, because it threatened to overwhelm me.
So instead, I said, “Hey, Joe.”
And he tipped his head back and sang.
THEY RAN through the clearing. Into the trees. Back out again. Chasing each other. Nipping at each other’s heels.
Joe was gangly at first. Unsure. He tripped over his own feet. Sprawled face-first into the ground. Got caught up in sights and sounds and smells.
He ran at me full speed. Feinted left when I braced myself. Yipped loudly as he flew by me. Turned back. Rubbed against my legs like a cat. Nose in my hand.
And then he was off again.
Thomas and Elizabeth stayed close by him. They’d growl at him softly if he started to get overexcited.
Mark sat next to me, almost as tall as I was. He chuffed quietly to himself while he watched Joe.
Carter and Kelly broke off into the woods. I could hear them crashing through the trees and underbrush. Stealthy predators, those.
And then it all hit me. It all crashed down upon my shoulders.
Reality shifted because it had to.
I inhaled sharply.
Mark whined softly at my side.
Gordo said, “Are you okay?” and I said, “Holy shit.”
Gordo didn’t laugh. I didn’t expect him to.
“They’re fucking werewolves!”
“Yes, Ox.”
“You’re a fucking wizard.”
“I’m a witch,” he said with a scowl.
“Why the fuck did you keep all of this from me!” I roared.
It wasn’t meant to come out like that.
It was meant to be reasonable. Calm.
But I was scared and angry and confused and reality was shifting. Things made sense, so much more sense now, but they didn’t. At all. The world was not full of monsters and magic. It was meant to be mundane and marred with little broken pieces of fucking retard and you’re gonna get shit, Ox.
And it wasn’t just meant for Gordo. No.
It was meant for all of them.
The wolves. The witch. The fucking tethers.
Don’t make me regret you too, my father had said, and for some reason, all I could think about were the motes of dust in their (her) room, dancing in the sunlight while I touched the curved stitches that spelled out Curtis, Curtis, Curtis.
But that was then and this was now.
Because I was (not) twelve anymore.
I was (not) a man.
I was (not) pack. I was. I was. I was and the tethers. Holy god, the tethers, I could feel them pulling and—
Gordo was in front of me.
Suddenly I was surrounded by wolves. All of them.
They growled in unison as Gordo grabbed my arms. He ignored them.
“Ox,” he said. “You need to breathe.” He sounded hoarse.
“I’m trying.” It came out high-pitched and broken. And I couldn’t. I couldn’t catch my breath. It was stuck somewhere between my throat and lungs. Little flashes of light danced across my vision, and my fingers felt numb.
One of the wolves whined at my side. I thought it was Joe, and wasn’t that something? That I could already recognize him as a wolf even though an hour ago I didn’t know such things existed?
Little things. Slotting into place.
Pack and the touching and the smells and the howls deep in the woods. The family nights where I wasn’t allowed to follow that always came when the moon was white and round. The stone wolf in my hand. The way they moved. The way they spoke. The bad man. The bad man who took Joe. It had to be because of—
Joe whispered, I’m going to be a leader one day, and didn’t I feel a fierce pride at that when he said it for the first time? Didn’t I just glow with it even though I had no idea what it meant?
There were facts I was aware of.
Simple truths.
My name was Oxnard Matheson.
My mother was Maggie Callaway.
We lived in Green Creek, Oregon.
My father left when I was twelve.
I was not smart. I was dumb as an ox (Ox).
People were gonna give me shit.
I wanted nothing more than to have a friend.
Gordo was my father-brother-friend.
My mother liked to dance.
Tanner, Chris, and Rico were my friends. We belonged to each other.
The Bennetts were my friends (pack pack pack pack) and we had Sunday dinner because it was tradition.
Jessie was my girlfriend.
Joe was my—oh, Joe was my—
Those were my simple truths.
And reality shifted. Reality bended. Reality broke.
And here I stood in the middle of a moonlit field, my father-brother-friend with his tattoos that shifted more colors than I thought existed standing before me, shaking me, shouting, yelling, “Ox, Ox, Ox, it’s okay, Ox, it’s okay don’t be scared I’ve got you.”
And here I stood in the middle of a moonlit field, surrounded by wolves (PACK PACK PACK PACK) and they pressed against me, and in my secret heart, through these little bonds that I hadn’t known were there, I could hear whispers of song
s and they were singing to me.
Elizabeth said, hush, ChildSonCub, hush. there is nothing to fear.
Thomas said, Ox, Ox, Ox. i am your Alpha and you are a part of what makes us whole.
Carter said, don’t be sad, FriendPackBrother, because we won’t leave you.
Kelly said, i won’t let anything happen to you. i will be by your side.
Mark said, there is no reason to be alone anymore. you will never be alone.
And Joe. Joe sang the loudest of all.
He said, you belong to me.
miles and miles/sun between us
THOMAS SAID, “Do you want to become a wolf?”
It was the Sunday following the full moon. Thomas and I walked through the forest before dinner. Joe had tried to follow us, but Thomas ordered him back to the house, eyes flashing red, and I wondered why I’d never seen it before. How could I have missed what should have been so obvious to me? Joe had slunk back into the house, one last quick glance at me.
He waited to ask until we were far enough away from the house that the others couldn’t hear us. I had learned much about the wolves over the past few days. Heightened sense of smell. Of hearing. They could heal. They could shift. Half shift. Full shift. Alphas and Betas and Omegas. Omegas were dark things. Scary things. Feral and without their tethers.
I learned more than I ever thought possible.
And we walked through the forest again. Just him and me. He touched the trees every now and then, like he always did. He breathed deeply. I asked him why.
“This is my territory,” he said. “It belongs to me. It’s been in my family for a very long time.”
“Your pack.”
He nodded. “Yes, Ox. My pack. Our pack.”
And didn’t that make me warm?
It did.
“These trees,” he said. “This forest. It’s filled with old magic. It’s in my blood and it thrums and writhes within me.”
“But you left,” I said.
He sighed. “Sometimes, there are greater responsibilities than home. Sometimes, we have to do what is necessary before we can do what we wish. But every day that I was away, I felt this place. It sang to me and it ached and burned. Mark came back to check in because I couldn’t. To make sure the place still stood.”