Wolfwater

by Alia Hess

  As he entered her, she gasped and jerked on his hair. He groaned. “You are rough, baby.”

  “You like it.”

  “I know.” He thrusted in a slow rhythm, overwhelmed by sensations of her, her skin, her scent, her warmth and softness, both inside and out. She was everything and there was nothing else.

  A moan escaped Dusty’s lips and she grazed her teeth across his earlobe. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Clamping her legs around his waist, she pushed against his hips, holding him closer, deeper.

  “Finally—finally back… to…” Sasha gave up on trying to complete the sentence, unable to even form a coherent thought. He was delirious with elation, every kiss and caress and thrust shoving the past horrible months into a tiny corner of his mind, nothing but Dusty filling the rest. Beautiful Dusty with her long maple lashes and pouty lips. His beautiful, beautiful wife.

  21

  ~ Wolfwater ~

  Owl walked slowly down the brown cobblestone path toward her house. She’d traveled this path a thousand times, usually with her egg basket in tow as she went to and from the market, enjoying the babble of the tiny stream that ran parallel. Occasionally, she would catch green birds pulling at the flaky tatters of bark on the moon trees, stealing bits and pieces to use as nesting material.

  Today, instead of holding her egg basket, she held Corvin’s hand. He limped next to her, leaning on his crutch. She had insisted she was okay—anxious but okay—and Corvin could continue on to his house to see Dewbell. Corvin said he was “obligated” to be moral support for his sister, and refused to let go of her hand. He was slowing her down, but she was grateful for his presence.

  No one from Tam had been waiting for them when they arrived, and neither had Quietbird. He must have made some new deal with Palesun, but what? Would he be in the house with Trav, waiting to break more bad news to everyone?

  The side of her house came into view, several of the chickens wandering through the yard. Her heart pounded and she forced herself to keep her same pace and not break into a run, leaving poor Corvin to limp down the path alone.

  Son of Owl appeared, waddling along behind a chicken and making clucking noises. The front of his romper was wet with drool and he clutched a rattle in one hand. His hair was a bit longer than Owl remembered, the silky brown locks curling up at the nape of his neck.

  The view of her son distorted as her eyes filled with tears, and Corvin squeezed her hand. Son of Owl continued his babble of chicken noises, then looked up. He stared, then a slobbery grin appeared on his chubby face.

  “Mama-Cowvin! Mama-Cowvin!”

  Son of Owl’s tiny legs carried him through the grass toward the path. He fell, dropping his rattle, then picked himself up and toddled toward them. Owl threw her arms around him, sobbing. She kissed his drooly cheek and scooped him up with trembling hands.

  For a moment, instead of Corvin’s supportive grip on her arm, she felt Merriweather hauling her off her knees, his glass eye staring through her as he carried her away to her doom. Then the sensation vanished as Son of Owl squeezed her cheek with a sticky hand.

  “Hi, Mama!”

  “Hi, Muffin.”

  Son of Owl turned his black eyes to Corvin and placed a hand on Corvin’s chest. Corvin kissed his head.

  Trav’s soft voice drifted from the house. “Muffin? Where’d you go?”

  Owl tried to call out, but her breath caught in her throat.

  “Over here!” Corvin said.

  Trav stepped onto the path, dappled light falling on his cloak’s hood and his broad shoulders. A smile lit his face as he strode toward her. Owl set Son of Owl on the ground, ruffling his hair. Trav hauled her up into his strong arms, lifting her off of her feet. She let out a sob of a laugh, nuzzling into his long blond hair.

  She was home. Home was a lot of things, and the past few months had made her realize that it wasn’t exactly what she expected it to be. The Mainland was her birthplace, but it didn’t welcome her back with open arms like Trav was doing to her now. His big, safe, loving arms.

  “Oh, I missed you,” he breathed into her ear.

  “I missed you too. I tried to be strong. Even without you there, I tried—”

  “You didn’t try. You were strong. I heard all about it. My amazing wife.” Trav set her down, his pale eyes holding her.

  Owl put her hands to his face and kissed him slowly. She knew this wasn’t over—memories of Merriweather knocking Dusty’s head into the cage bars; him screaming at her with blood dribbling down his lips; that damn jar of pears—those things would take a while to fade from her mind, if they ever did. Questions still remained too, about what would happen now.

  For now, though, she pushed those thoughts aside. All that mattered was Trav’s arms enveloping her and his soft lips pressed against hers.

  “I’m so happy to be home,” she said.

  “I’m so happy to have you back.” Trav studied her face then looked at Corvin. “Glad to see you in a place other than a jail hut. How’s the leg?”

  “Hurts,” Corvin replied.

  Son of Owl touched Corvin’s cast and looked up at him quizzically.

  “I got a boo-boo, Muffin. It’s okay. I need to sit down, though.”

  Trav gestured toward the house. “Of course. Come inside. Dewbell is here. Even though she knew you were safe, she’s been having a hard time staying in your house by herself during the day. She likes to be here with Son of Owl.”

  “Poor love. Well, I’m back now. Maybe we’ll have to share a single bedroom from now on, instead of separate ones. I don’t want her to feel lonely. Let’s get in there so I can see her.”

  Owl hefted Son of Owl and they headed for the house. Vines climbed the entryway around the heavy wooden door. She stepped inside, pausing to inhale the scent of tangy spice and warm wood. Everything looked the same: paperbacks and handbound books filled the bookcase, a row of large seashells sitting on top; photos of her family and friends lined the curved hall; Son of Owl’s toys lay scattered across the rug. How could everything seem the same when so much had changed? But had it? Things were back to normal now—the way they were supposed to be. Everyone was home and safe.

  Things have changed. I’m stronger now than I was. No, that’s not right. I’ve always been strong, I just didn’t realize it. And I’m not homesick anymore. The Mainland can shove it—I have all the home I need right here.

  She gazed at her nameless son, then her husband, and finally turned her eyes to her big brother, lowering himself into a chair with a grimace.

  Dewbell walked through the hall, her face shifting to surprise as she took them all in. She smiled, hurrying to Owl and giving her a squeeze.

  Owl signed to her: [HELLO SISTER] “It’s so good to see you.”

  Dewbell nodded, hugging her again. She looked beyond Owl to Corvin.

  He grinned. “Hello, dear.”

  Dewbell threw her arms around him, weeping and stroking his hair. She kissed him hard and then pulled back, frowning at the cast on his leg.

  “I know,” Corvin said. “I’m supposed to keep it on for three months. Quite inconvenient and sort of messes up my plans.”

  Dewbell cocked her head. [DON’T UNDERSTAND]

  Corvin pulled in a breath as she sat in a chair opposite him. He took her hands. “I was going to do this after I bought you a ring, but I don’t want to wait. And all the formality has been ruined anyway since I can’t get down on one knee like this. So, I apologize for how casual this is, dear, but… will you marry me and do me the honor of being my wife? Officially?”

  Dewbell’s eyes twinkled and she let out a small laugh. She pulled a slip of paper from her dress and wrote something down.

  Corvin read it, grinning. “She says, ‘Yes, but it’s merely a formality, darling, as you already own my heart.’” He pulled her close and gave her a long kiss.

  Owl put her hands to her mouth, her heart full.

  Palesun and Merriw
eather and island storms can’t take these things away from us—our love for each other. In fact, it’s stronger now than it ever was. We were pushed to the edge and we pushed back. With love. It can’t fix what’s broken, but it can lift us up and give us strength.

  A knock came at the door as Corvin and Dewbell continued to kiss.

  “I bet that’s Gentlewave and Mothwing. Dewbell’s been asking about them.” Trav opened the door.

  Quietbird stood at the threshold, his face pinched. “Hello, cousin. Can I come in?”

  Sasha sat on the edge of the bed in nothing but his underwear, his curls still damp from his shower with Dusty. She reclined in the sheets in a white tank top and panties, and her belly looked so cute peeking out from under the hem. Love notes lay everywhere. Many had fallen on the floor, but most of them were still strewn across the comforter, as they had been when they first got home.

  “I still can’t believe you wrote all these for me. It’s so romantic.” Dusty smiled and picked up one of the notes. “It’s going to take me forever to read them all.”

  “All I could think about was you.”

  Dusty read one of the papers aloud. “‘I want to kiss every part of you, ‘specially parts that don’t get attention: your eyelids, back of your knees, belly button, and ankles.’ That’s cute, babe.” She picked up another. “‘Looking at your face give me strength to keep living.’ Aww.”

  Sasha smiled and took one of Dusty’s feet in his lap, kneading the sole with his thumbs. “Bet your feet are tired from walking so much, huh? And have to carry my baby everywhere.”

  Dusty leaned back into the pillows. “Mm. That feels good.” She read another note, her mouth pulling down. “Ew, Sasha. This one is nasty!”

  He massaged his knuckles into her foot. “No way. I only write you romantic stuff.”

  Dusty threw the note at him and he glanced at it. “Okay, you are right. That one is nasty. But I was very lonely, baby.”

  “We are not doing that.”

  Sasha shrugged. “How about I kiss your feet instead? That is nasty too, but you like.” He lifted her foot and pressed his lips to her toes.

  She sighed. “Keep doing that and I’m going to forget what you wrote on that paper. Are there more notes like that?”

  “I don’t remember.” A knock came from downstairs. Sasha stood. “You stay here and relax, Momma. I get it.”

  Dusty scooped up a handful of notes, smiling as she looked through them.

  He left the room, padding down the spiral staircase and running his hand along the bumpy blue glaze of the wall.

  So nice to be home.

  Dusty’s voice came from above. “Aleksandr, you are disgusting!”

  Sasha cringed. He passed through the kitchen and opened the front door. Owl stood on the step. Her smile shrank as her gaze drifted over him.

  “Geez, Sasha. Put some clothes on.”

  “No way. I am finally back home, in my own house, and I’m going to walk around in my underwear, dammit. What you need, baby?”

  Owl shook her head. “Quietbird invited us to his house this evening. He said it’s a dinner, but we have stuff to talk about—which means it’s some kind of meeting he doesn’t really want to have. He didn’t look too happy when he stopped by.”

  “You don’t think me and Corvin going to get locked up again or something, right?” Sasha swallowed a lump in his throat and gripped the doorframe. “I can’t go back to that. I can’t.”

  I knew this was coming. We just came ashore and walked into the house like nothing had ever happened. But this isn’t over.

  “No, no. Corvin asked that too, and Quietbird assured him that no one was going to take you anywhere. Quietbird wouldn’t say, but Corvin’s guess was that since Auth’ni’s dead and we failed the escort mission, maybe Palesun wants you guys to pay him money, instead. Y’know, to make up for messing up his garden.”

  Sasha scratched his damp hair. “I don’t know… You know what I think? I think they catch those guys who give us drugs. Maybe me and Corvin have to pick them out of… um, I don’t know American word. Got to tell Elder which ones they are so he can put them in jail.”

  Owl chewed her lip. “That could be it. I hope so, anyway. But be at Quietbird’s at six, okay?”

  Sasha nodded. “See you then.”

  She turned to leave, then gave him a once-over. “Cute undies, brother.”

  Owl sat at Quietbird’s huge round table, which occupied most of the back room of his house. She’d never been in the room before, it being Quietbird’s official meeting room for Elder business both for Nisian matters and multi-island decisions. A massive relief of whales, schools of fish, crabs, and other sea life graced the wall, the textures highlighted in seafoam green glaze.

  Everyone was present, and Quietbird stood at the head of the table, his face pulled into a tight, plastic smile. Their dinner of fish stew had been pleasant, Corvin talking excitedly about his engagement to Dewbell, Dewbell fawning over Dusty’s growing belly, and Trav joking with his cousins. Despite this, everyone sensed some sort of bad news was imminent.

  Quietbird sat and clasped his hands together. “Everyone’s gone through a lot of shit the last few months, and worked hard to try to right this situation. While you guys were stuck on Tam and out on the Mainland chasing kidnappers, I was trying to do my part here as well. I did a lot of digging into what happened and why. I found out a lot.” He frowned and looked down, his black braid falling across the table. “You’re not going to like it.”

  Trav rubbed Owl’s knee, and she squeezed Corvin’s hand.

  Dusty scowled. “Well, we never liked any of this to begin with, so let’s hear it.”

  Quietbird said, “Sasha, that guy, Rocksalt, who approached you and Corvin on Pearlolla… he said he was at your wedding, right?”

  Sasha nodded.

  “He wasn’t. He’d never seen you before in his life. You either, Corvin.”

  “I knew I did not remember him, even if I was staring at Dusty for whole wedding,” Sasha muttered.

  “He and the other guy, Clearwater, lured you to that party on purpose, for the sole reason of drugging you and getting you to mess up Palesun’s garden.”

  Corvin clenched his jaw. “But why? It couldn’t have been in retaliation to something we did to them, if we’d never even met them.”

  Quietbird’s face grew grave. “Palesun paid them to do it.”

  Owl closed her eyes as Corvin trembled next to her. A setup from the start.

  “He paid them to get Sasha and Corvin to mess up his own garden?” Trav ran a hand through his hair, scowling.

  Gentlewave said, “So he could lock up Sasha and Corvin and force us to go on his mission…”

  “That’s right,” Quietbird replied.

  “I don’t understand,” Owl said. “If he wanted someone to go on a retrieval mission so bad, why didn’t he just pay people to do it?”

  Quietbird shrugged. “Because who would be crazy enough to go on an escort mission to the Mainland? The reason people have to go on naming quests there is because no one wants to go there. It’s sort of a common assumption that even Mainlanders don’t want to go back there. Otherwise, why would you all be living here?”

  Owl groaned and sank back in her seat.

  “Palesun heard that some of you used to be escorts, and you all had experience either growing up on the Mainland or living there for a number of years, so he thought our group of family and friends would be the perfect target for his coercion.”

  Sasha stood. “But why me and Corvin? Why this guy follow us to Pearlolla and trick us?” He swept his arm across the table. “We got lot of friends here. How come he choose us and not Trav, or Mothwing, or—God forbid—some of the womans? If any of those guys get locked up, it would have been same deal; somebody have to go on retrieval mission to rescue them. Did you find out why he picked me? And Corvin?”

  Quietbird stared into the table. “Because he heard that you and Corvin were trouble
makers already—an ‘alcoholic’ and a… ‘psychopath.’ He thought you two getting in trouble was the most believable, and no one would question it.”

  Corvin’s chest heaved. He stood slowly, then slammed his fists into the table.

  Owl flinched. “Corvin—”

  He picked up his chair and flung it against the wall. One of the legs broke off, clattering across the floor as he limped out of the room. Dewbell stood and headed after him.

  Owl gripped the table, squeezing it so hard it hurt, but it wasn’t enough to distract her from the pain in her heart. Her poor brothers.

  “I’m sorry, Quietbird. He doesn’t usually—” What could she say? They all knew by now how Corvin was, and this whole situation made her want to break something too. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

  “It’s alright. It’s just a chair,” Quietbird said.

  Sasha sank into his seat and covered his face with his hands. “I am not alcoholic. I am not troublemaker. I am not those things no more. I tried so hard to do good—to be better person. I have not had alcohol for over year. I only wanted to have happy life here with Dusty and my friends. I was good! I was doing good. And this asshole still think I am bad person? Punish me and Corvin for things he only hear about in past? Me and Corvin don’t do nothing wrong here! Corvin is not psychopath. He is good friend, and don’t deserve all this shit. None of us. Dusty and Owl get kidnapped by real psychopath. All because Palesun have this stupid plan? This trick! That is not fair!”

  Sasha stood and left the table, fists clenched.

  Owl pressed her face to Trav’s arm. She batted tears angrily away, then stood, heading from the room. Sasha and Corvin stood in an embrace in the hallway, Dewbell next to them.

  “Guys, come back in the room. This information doesn’t change anything.”

  Corvin turned. “Yes, it does. Our bad reputations followed us here. To the point that it almost got you and Dusty killed. Almost got me and Sasha killed. Being a better person here doesn’t matter at all.”

  “It does matter. You know why? Because all your friends and family loved you two so much that we were willing to go to the Mainland to help you. We all rallied around each other, and Palesun and his stupid setup doesn’t take that love away. We’re here for you guys, just as we always have been. Just as you are for us.”