Wolfwater

by Alia Hess

  Sasha gave an uneasy chuckle. “Yeah, that would looks scary for sure. Where you going to get them from?” That drunk’s mouth? If that guy even has any teeth left.

  “Hmm. Good question.” Corvin put a hand on his chin and walked through the hut. “We’ll worry about it later. I think right now, it would be best to teach you some basic stitches. Do you know how to thread a needle?”

  “No.”

  “Well, we’re going to be starting from scratch then, aren’t we? Oh, this is so exciting!” Corvin rubbed his clean-shaven jaw. “You’ve got good ideas, Sasha. How come you never mentioned any of this to me before?”

  “Never thought about it, I guess.” Never needed to distract you from losing your marbles. But maybe it will be a good distraction for me too. Thinking about Dusty too much just makes me sad and horny. “And you know, it might take me two months to learn to sew, so this place is perfect.”

  Corvin rifled through a box and produced a spool of black thread, holding it up like a prize. He pushed back his hair, then frowned. “I really wish I would have gotten a haircut before getting stuck here.”

  Sasha ran his fingers through his wild curls. “Mine is getting long too. You know, I used to shave my head, lot of years ago, because my hair is crazy and go every way. Can never get it to do what I want. But then I think, ‘Hey, I am crazy too. At least when people see my hair, they will know what is coming when I open my mouth.’ Maybe growing it long will be easier to control and also make me look tough. Although… I am too much scrawny nerd to look very tough.”

  Corvin rolled the spool of thread between his fingers. “I’ve got lots to do and think about now.” He grinned and squashed Sasha in a hug. “Thank you.”

  Something hit the door with a loud thud, then it swung open. The drunk Islander wavered at the threshold, looking in.

  Corvin’s happiness decayed and he pushed Sasha aside, marching toward the door and jabbing a finger at the Islander. “You are not coming in here. Get the hell out.”

  “S’myhut.” The Islander shouldered past Corvin, took his sleeping bag, and crawled inside.

  Corvin’s eyes grew huge and he tugged at his hair. “No. No. No. Get out. Now. Get out.” He grabbed the man by the shoulders and pulled, but the drunk waved a dismissive hand.

  Corvin stood slowly, then calmly pushed aside his shaving soap, plucked his straight razor off the table, and flicked it open. Sasha’s stomach clenched. He hurried to the sleeping bag and dragged it, Islander and all, out the front door.

  The drunk muttered and grabbed at Sasha’s arms, and he tugged harder. Once the Islander was a distance away from the hut, Sasha ran back, locking the door behind him.

  He grinned nervously at Corvin, who still held the razor loosely in his hand, and blew out a breath. “You didn’t want to sleep in this bag again anyway. Not after that guy crawl in. Let him keep it. You can use mine. I will sleep in sand with blanket. I do not care.”

  Corvin stared at the door, face unreadable, then closed the razor and set it on the table. He brushed his hand on his pants as though it was dirty, and picked up the thread again. “Okay. Ready to learn?”

  Sasha stared at the razor. So much for feeling like a two-star hotel. “You bet.”

  5

  ~ New Frontier ~

  September 13, 156—My journal entries for the past handful of years have been so uneventful. I think being reunited with Corvin was my last exciting one. I have a feeling that’s going to change.

  Riding on a boat has been so fast—I can’t imagine having to walk all the way up here. Unfortunately, the ride is so bumpy I was only able to use the tablet to talk to Trav for a few minutes. It’s hard for me to even write in this notebook. I called him just for a moment to let him know we were fine. I’ll call him tomorrow night when we make camp. Dusty has been huddled in a corner for most of the ride in Sasha’s big pink coat. I forgot that she’s scared of boats and water. I heard her crying, and tried to comfort her, but she told me to go away. I think she’s embarrassed and also still upset about Sasha being in jail.

  Fog coiled around the high evergreen trees and a hawk coasted across the cloudless sky. Owl stood on the shore, a chilly wind licking her ears and face. Her traveling cloak wasn’t cut out for the unexpected coldness of the misty, forested land ahead, even with a sweater underneath.

  Their large sailboat rocked slowly in the water, and the small rowboat they’d come ashore on sat on the sand, covered with a tarp.

  The ocean sighed against her back. Ahead lay a sea of trees and darkness. She was a grain of sand, sandwiched between the two.

  Gentlewave studied a map with his scarf pulled tightly around his nose and mouth. His gruff voice came out muffled. “If we head northeast for a couple weeks, we should start seeing some Maralti villages and hopefully they can direct us to the boy we’re looking for. …I think. I’ve never come this way. Heard about the Maralti from different people, but I’ve never met one. I don’t know a lot about them other than they aren’t fond of traveling and like to keep to themselves.” He glanced at their group. “I wish Palesun would have given us a few more specifics about them.”

  Dusty’s hands shook as she pulled on a slouchy knit hat. “Well, this whole situation is messed up. Did anyone really expect that idiot Elder to help us out? At this point, I’m just hoping that he really does have a son here. He seems like the kind of asshole that would just send people out here for nothing. I mean, he was going to execute Sasha—” She made a noise in her throat, then scowled and marched up the beach, making her way past smooth boulders coated in deep green moss.

  Owl hurried to her side, and Gentlewave and Mothwing trailed behind. Dusty wiped her eye with the heel of her trembling hand.

  “Hey, sis.” Owl touched her shoulder. “You okay? Still freaked out by the boat ride?”

  “I’m freaked out by everything. All of this is so unfair, you know? I miss Sasha, and I’m mad and cold and scared and sick to my stomach.”

  “I understand. I’m upset too. I think Tam is going to have to be off-limits from now on.”

  “Huh. Yeah. I’m going to get Sasha back and tie him to the bed so he can’t get in trouble again.”

  “I don’t think he’d have a problem with that.”

  Dusty grinned. She looked behind her, then leaned toward Owl. “I don’t really like Mothwing. He keeps teasing me.”

  “Aw, he means well. All of Trav’s cousins are pretty lighthearted. And Quietbird is really an asset to the island. The Elder they had before him was a lot like Tam’s Elder.”

  “Yuck.”

  “Yeah. That’s why Trav stayed away for so long. Everyone hated Trav for being albino, and the Elder reinforced it. They didn’t like Mainlanders either, even with Quietbird as Elder. When Trav and I showed up, it took a long time for them to warm up to us.”

  They passed evergreens with stout red trunks, stepping on a thick carpet of pine needles and fallen bristlecones. Fog slithered across the path, washing the area in a milky haze.

  Dusty side-stepped a log. “So what happened to him? The old Elder?”

  “Uh… He had an ‘accident.’”

  Dusty didn’t look as surprised as Owl anticipated. She nodded. “Good. Sounds like an ‘accident’ should happen to the Elder of Tam too. Maybe that’s what we should be doing right now, instead.”

  Owl’s mouth parted. “Dusty! You really mean that?”

  “I don’t know if you know this, but I’ve had to kill people before. My Boss who owned me when I was a kid. A guy I did a trade with who decided murder might be more fun than sex. I was defending myself. Do you know what that’s like?”

  Owl squeezed her eyes shut, thinking of the knife in her hand as she had stood over her abusive ex-husband’s sleeping form. “Yes.”

  “Then you know doing that to the Elder of Tam would have been the same thing. He was going to kill my husband and your brother. The only reason he didn’t was because Quietbird made this stupid deal with him.”


  “That may be true, but my conscience will feel better in the long run knowing that we freed Sasha and Corvin by bringing a son and his father together and not murdering the man.”

  Dusty snorted. “I bet this kid won’t even wanna go to Tam with a dad like that.”

  Owl stopped. What if Auth’ni didn’t want to leave with them? After all, he’d apparently just lost his mother, and now he was going to be forced to travel with a bunch of strangers to a far off island to live with a man he’d never met. “Maybe this is a bad idea.”

  “You see? This whole thing is stupid. We should be at home, and those guys that drugged Sasha and Corvin’s drinks should be the ones in jail.”

  “But what’s done is done. We’re just going to have to deal.”

  Dusty glowered. “Island paradise, my ass.”

  Owl slowed her pace, letting Gentlewave and Mothwing catch up. Dusty waited impatiently ahead, twisting her wedding ring around her finger.

  “Gentlewave, have you ever had any difficult escortees?” Owl asked.

  His eyes crinkled. “Yeah. Your brother.”

  She laughed. “I can picture that.”

  A twig snapped in the distance, the sound echoing through the trees. They stopped. Owl stared into the fog, ears straining and the damp of the morning seeping into her bones.

  Dusty whispered. “What was that?”

  “Probably a deer.” Gentlewave cocked his head. Branches creaked and the ocean soughed faintly in the distance.

  Mothwing glanced into the murk of the forest, worry creasing his brow. “You think there are bears that live out here? Or wolves?”

  “Yes to both.” Gentlewave put an arm around him and squeezed, smiling. “We’ll be fine. Dealt with scarier things than that. Like Owl’s brother.”

  Owl frowned as the rest of them laughed. Another twig snapped, slightly closer, and the smiles fell from their lips.

  Mothwing grimaced. “You sure that’s a deer?”

  “Yes. These woods aren’t empty, you know. All kinds of animals call forests home.” Gentlewave walked ahead, pushing low hanging branches away and stepping over irregular mounds of earth.

  Dusty grinned, an ornery glint in her eye. “Hey Mothwing, maybe The North is full of monsters like The South. I bet giant two-headed bears hang out around here all the time. Or how about a wolf-bear hybrid? Some shaggy thing with big teeth that can outrun you?”

  Mothwing’s mouth fell open and his gaze flicked to the trees. Dusty let out a laugh and strolled ahead, her hands in her pockets.

  “Very funny,” he said.

  Gentlewave turned. “Doesn’t matter what kind of animal is out here. I have a gun, and we’ve got a drone. I’ve seen that thing in action, and I’m pretty sure we don’t have anything to worry about.”

  Owl picked up her pace, her thoughts turning to Trav. Even with her companions, it was lonely without him by her side. They’d traveled so many roads together before deciding to move to Nis—walking along the hot, buckled asphalt, sharing stories and searching for useful items, their feelings for each other growing stronger by the day.

  A bird cried out in the trees, the sound lingering in the hanging mist. She peered uneasily into the solid darkness beyond the rough red trunks.

  This place didn’t look anything like the Northwest coast, with its little farming towns, caravan routes, and high, scrubby deserts—it was like some other world.

  No nostalgia to be found here.

  A kernel of doubt was growing in her mind, not only about her own capabilities, but if this mission was a good idea in the first place. There were too many questions, and they’d left in such a rush that no one thought to ask them beforehand. What would they do if Auth’ni wouldn’t come with them? What if they couldn’t find him in the first place? Maybe Dusty was right, and they shouldn’t have given into Palesun’s demands so easily.

  But they were already here. And she was helping.

  That evening, they sat around a campfire, the orange flames dispersing the darkness and damp chill, tiny red embers dancing into the night sky. Owl sat against a rock in her pajamas and leather boots, Sasha’s tablet in her hands. She leaned toward the screen.

  “You there, honey?”

  The view of her house’s sage-colored wall swiveled away as Trav turned the drone to himself “Hey.” He looked down at the floor. “Muffin, you want to see Mommy?”

  Son of Owl’s little face popped up as he climbed into Trav’s lap. “Mama?”

  Trav grinned and pointed at the screen. “See?”

  “Hi, sweetie.” Owl waved.

  Son of Owl stared, blinking, then stuck his hand on the drone’s screen, leaving a small, dirty handprint. “Gama Gampa?”

  Owl smiled and shook her head. “No. I’m not with Grandma and Grandpa. They live in Hammerlink. Mommy is in the forest.” She turned the screen in a panorama around the clearing, then back to herself.

  Trav rubbed their son’s head. “I can see why he would think that though, since we call them every week with the drone.”

  “And they speak to us via Corvin’s old tablet.”

  Dusty, sitting on a rock near Owl, looked into the screen. “Could you imagine if everyone had tablets? I could be using my own to talk to Sasha right now.”

  Owl said, “Yeah, we’re lucky we know a technologically-advanced Russian.”

  “Sasha told me his tablet and drone are nothing compared to the technology in other countries. I can’t even imagine.” A sad smile crossed Dusty’s face. “He’s been trying to work on his own inventions at home. Finding Old World parts, copper wires, stuff like that, and putting them together in new ways. He doesn’t mind bartering and fishing like everyone else, but wants to put his real talents to use, you know? I don’t know what he’s trying to make yet, but it makes him happy to work on that stuff.”

  Trav leaned toward the screen. “Dusty, I went to Tam today and Sasha gave me a couple of letters for you. Or love notes, or something.”

  Dusty’s face brightened. “Really?”

  “Mama!” Son of Owl slapped the screen.

  “Hi, Muffin. Mommy misses you. Are you having fun with Daddy?”

  “Yup.” Son of Owl climbed out of Trav’s lap and disappeared from view.

  Owl shook her head. “I swear nothing fazes that boy.”

  “He’s resilient. It’s good.” Trav picked up a folded paper from the table. “Darling, you want to pass the tablet to Dusty so I can read her Sasha’s letter?”

  Owl handed Dusty the tablet. Mothwing left Gentlewave’s side at the opposite end of the campfire and stood behind Dusty with his arms folded.

  Dusty stared at the screen, the glow lighting her expectant face.

  She must be so intent on the tablet that she doesn’t notice Mothwing—otherwise she would have barked at him to go away already.

  Owl almost asked him why he even cared what the letter said, then remembered that like most Nisians, he was inherently nosy.

  Trav held up the paper. “Sasha told me he wanted me to read you this letter out loud, and the other is ‘for your eyes only,’ and I’m only allowed to hold it up to the screen for you to read.” He looked at the page, cleared his throat, then chuckled. “You want me to read it in a Russian accent?”

  Dusty laughed. “No.”

  “Okay. ‘Baby, when I meet you, I had weak heart. Even after heart failure and surgery, I feel like you are what is keep my heart beating and not implant. I am afraid that I might die without you, so I keep picture of you and me press to my heart always, just in case.’”

  “Aww.” Dusty put her hands to her mouth.

  “I had no idea Sasha could write sweet things like that,” Owl said.

  Trav cocked an eyebrow. “Yes, well now I’m going to ruin that sweetness by letting Dusty read whatever obscene thing it is he doesn’t want everyone else to see.” He unfolded the paper and held it to the screen.

  Dusty’s lips moved slightly as she read, squinting at the tablet.

/>   “Oh, gross!” Mothwing grimaced and looked away.

  Dusty turned to him, scowling. “Hey! My eyes only.” She looked back at the tablet for a moment, then laughed loudly. “Okay. You tell him I will.”

  Trav set the paper aside. “Do I want to know what that means?”

  “No. You don’t,” Mothwing said.

  Dusty passed Owl the tablet, looking smug. “You’re just grossed out because you don’t like women.”

  “Never going to get that visual out of my head now.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t have read it.”

  Trav said, “Darling, Corvin didn’t write anything for you. He’s having a hard time adjusting.”

  “I’m sure he is,” Owl said. I hope with Sasha there it brings him some comfort.

  “He’s got his hut decked out with his stuff, and he was dressed all nice and proper like usual. I’m glad Dewbell was there to talk to him.” Trav’s face screwed up. “I want to like your brother, but he gives me the creeps. I hate to say that—I know you love him—but I just don’t know what to say to him half the time, and now especially. Small talk isn’t really going to cut it, and I’m not sure what to do to make him feel better.”

  Owl looked away. How many times had she heard the word ‘creep’ used in conjunction with her brother’s name in the past year? She just didn’t see him that way. He’d been violent a couple times in the past, but aside from Trav, there was no one who made her feel safer and more at home than Corvin.

  Dusty leaned to Owl, looking at the screen. “You’re not the only one creeped out by him. I’m sure you’ve heard the story of our first dinner with him at his house when he—”

  “Everyone has heard that story.” Owl’s retort came out a little more hostile than she intended. “Sorry. It’s just… Corvin has his issues, but he’s a good person. I love him. And I feel so bad that he’s stuck there right now—” She rubbed her forehead.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I love Corvin too. I didn’t at first, but I warmed up to him and I think of him as a brother now.” Dusty smiled. “All of us one big happy family. And you know, even if it was just Corvin stuck in jail, and not Sasha, I would still go on this escorting trip to help get him out.”