Wolfskin

by W. R. Gingell

  We passed safely through two more partner changes before it occurred to me to say, in some surprise: “Bastian! You can dance!”

  Bastian swept me exhilaratingly high into the air and back down again, and the smile he held steadily on me was warm enough to make me look away in confusion.

  “There are a great many things you have yet to learn about me, little witch.”

  “Why are you here?” I asked quietly, keeping my eyes on level with the yoke of that beautiful shirt and no higher. Without knowing quite why, I was afraid to meet his eyes. “And how did you get here without me sensing you?”

  Bastian manoeuvred us through another change with careless expertise. “The cocoon Akiva spun from the forest was stronger than she thought: it’s still around me. You wouldn’t have noticed it beside the forest.”

  “If you change outside the forest, you’ll still be safe,” I nodded, understanding. Bastian took advantage of my upturned gaze to bestow another of his disturbingly warm smiles down on me, and I dropped my eyes.

  “As to why I came,” he said softly in my ear, “I decided that I was not going to give you up to your bumpkin without a fight.”

  I was tired of protesting that Gilbert was not a bumpkin, so I merely said: “He’s quite nice really, when you get to know him.”

  “But I don’t want to know him,” Bastian murmured, still close to my ear. “Gilbert doesn’t interest me in the slightest. Once more, little witch.”

  He spun me once, twice, as the tempo quickened; and then we were in the centre of the two circling rings. I caught my breath in dismay, but my feet remembered what my memory didn’t, and I couldn’t help chuckling once in the sheer joy of the dance. For a brief moment it felt as though it really could have been deeper forest, the dancers dryads, and Bastian and I the bride and groom. The pulse of the music picked up once again in the last tempo change for the dance that allowed me to be swung joyfully in the air one last time and brought down lightly on my toes. Around us the flying draperies of the other ladies swished one last time, then came the last unfurl and the swift curl back in. I found myself wrapped tight in Bastian’s arms, my head tilted back to laugh up at him and his eyes laughing back down at me.

  The dance ended with a shout and a stamp, but Bastian didn’t release me.

  “It’s time I gave you that birthday present,” he said, smiling down at me. He bent his head and for a moment I thought– I thought– I didn’t know quite what I thought.

  Before I had time to feel more than startled, Gilbert’s voice said beside us: “Who’s your friend, Rose?”

  Bastian snarled something softly through his teeth and let me go, but kept one arm lightly around my waist.

  “He’s from the forest,” I said truthfully, because the curse wouldn’t let me say his name. I added, more helpfully and still strictly truthfully: “An acquaintance of Akiva’s.”

  Gilbert acknowledged the information with a stiff nod at Bastian; and Bastian, as curtly, nodded back.

  “My dance, I think,” Gilbert said, and I thought there was a touch of challenge in his voice. His hand was held out to me but Bastian didn’t drop his arm from around my waist.

  “Rose was just about to walk me home,” he said, the smallest edge of a cold smile lifting his lips. There was a shimmer to his forest skin that seemed to suggest that he wouldn’t long be in human form. Even if the skin did hold, it wouldn’t do to have the whole party see him change from human to wolf.

  I was cross with both of them for behaving so boorishly to each other for no reason, so I knocked Bastian’s arm from my waist and ignored Gilbert’s outstretched hand.

  “I’ll walk you as far as the forest,” I said to Bastian, and added to Gilbert: “I’ll be back shortly.” It made me feel as though I was having two conversations at once, and that made me crosser.

  Gilbert said: “No need; I’ll walk along with you,” and though Bastian looked annoyed, at least he made no demur. I put one hand through Bastian’s arm, the other through Gilbert’s, and they were forced to continue to be civil.

  We got Bastian back to the forest just in time. As Gilbert and I turned away, I felt the shock of his transformation, a wave of energy so bright and exuberant that I knew his protective barrier had shattered and let out all the extra energy it had been catching during his illness.

  “So he’s a friend of Akiva’s,” Gilbert remarked thoughtfully, ignorant of the deluge.

  I said non-committally: “Mmmm.”

  “He seemed to know you very well.”

  I let the remark hang in the air unanswered, and said suddenly: “I don’t feel like dancing anymore.”

  “Even better,” Gilbert said equably, allowing the subject to drop. “Let’s go for a walk instead.”

  I’d been thinking of going home, but Gilbert sounded so pleased at the idea of a walk that I didn’t like to disappoint him. So we walked further away from the party instead of back to it, the glowing lights fading behind us in the darkness as we strolled by the edges of the forest. I half expected Bastian to be prowling along beside us under cover of the trees, but he was unusually far away, giving Gilbert and I our privacy.

  We wandered in a pleasantly aimless way, leisurely making our way around the curvature of the forest through the hills until we reached the highest point to be had, where we sat on a rock, dangling our feet and gazing down at the lights of the village. To the side of the village, the forest stretched out, dark velvet green and silent, and I was content to hear its quiet whisper beside me, threaded through with the faint strains of music that floated up to us from the dance.

  “Rose, you’re unlike any other girl I’ve met,” Gilbert said at last, breaking the silence. He was sitting back with his hands propping him up while I stretched out full length beside him, gazing up at the stars, having tired of the village lights. “You don’t chatter. I suppose you’re still alive?” He poked me in the ribs and I laughed softly but didn’t stir, too content to lay quietly in the peacefulness of the overhanging forest.

  Gilbert stretched himself out beside me, leaning his weight onto one elbow to gaze at my profile, and asked idly: “If you could do anything, what would you do?”

  “I’d like to fly,” I said hungrily, my eyes on the wide expanse of starry sky. The remembrance of my dragon-fever dreams came back sometimes at night, when I remembered the freedom of flight I’d felt with useless longing.

  “I don’t think I would be surprised if you told me you could fly,” Gilbert observed.

  I hitched myself up on my elbows and regarded the view before us. “What would you do?”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  There was a question in his voice that I didn’t quite understand, but I shrugged, and said: “Yes, if you like.”

  He didn’t answer at once, and I turned my head to look enquiringly at him just as he leaned in and kissed me. It wasn’t like the time I had kissed Bastian; that quick, formal kiss to try and break the spell: this one was warm and sweet and pleasant, and wholly unexpected. I didn’t react as quickly as I might have done: first, because I found that being kissed was a startlingly nice feeling, and then because the realization of what I needed to do to break the second part of Bastian’s curse descended on me with blinding effect. For a moment I remained frozen, then I put my palm on Gilbert’s chest and pushed him back firmly.

  “No.”

  Gilbert looked part annoyed, part amused. He didn’t look surprised.

  “Rose–”

  “No,” I said again, shaking my head. “It was very nice, but–”

  “But no,” nodded Gilbert, and took in a quick, regretful breath. He ran one rueful hand through his hair. “I knew it was too soon to kiss you. I should have waited until later, but the dance scared me and I thought–”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered,” I said. I felt clumsy and wrong-footed, but I didn’t want things to be odd between us. “I don’t like you in that way, Gil. I didn’t mean to make you think I did.”


  Gilbert smiled a little wryly. “I think I knew that when I saw you with him. I thought that if I could just get to you in time I might have a chance to win you over.”

  I tried to protest that it wasn’t like that with Bastian and I, but Gilbert only said: “He’s the wolf, isn’t he? The wolf from the stories, the one you’re always going on about?”

  The curse wouldn’t let me agree to it or deny it, but Gilbert’s face told me that he knew anyway. I slid my arm through his and there was a moment of quiet as we both gazed out into the darkened forest.

  “I wish I’d met you when I was younger,” I said, a little sadly. Gilbert would have been an ideal companion for my many escapades, and maybe with time I would have come to feel for him the same way that he did for me.

  “I wish you had, too.” There was a little rough edge to his voice, but not enough to make me think that he wouldn’t recover from my refusal. “Then I might have had some chance.”

  “We can still be friends, can’t we?”

  I was surprised to hear the wistful tone to my voice– more surprised to discover that I was unwilling to lose Gilbert’s friendship, and perhaps with it the friendship of Elizabeth and Harry.

  I found that I really was sorry as I said: “I’m sorry I couldn’t be your sweetheart.”

  “So am I,” Gilbert said; but he laughed a little, and kissed me on the cheek. “Goodnight, Rose.”

  He sauntered back downhill with his hands in his pockets, but I don’t think he went back to the party. I stayed where I was for a long time until a sniff surprised me by suggesting I was near tears. I took myself fiercely to task, sniffing away the impulse, and slipped into the forest where I wandered aimlessly in search of distraction. It wasn’t until some minutes later that I found I’d made my way instinctively towards the patch of forest that was distinctly Bastian-tinted. A few steps later I came upon Bastian himself, dozing with his snout cushioned on his paws. Feeling absurdly comforted, I dropped down on the grass beside him and curled up with my head on his side like we used to sit. Bastian turned his head to sleepily snuff at my face.

  “What’s wrong, little love?”

  I buried my face in his fur and heaved a big, huffy breath. “Don’t want to talk about it.”

  The forest lines twanged and pulsed around me, and then I was curled up against human Bastian, one of his arms around me comfortably. He was still wearing his shirt from the party, and it was cool and soft against my cheek. He sat up, pulling me a little closer, and laughed at my surprise.

  “Midnight, little witch. It’s a whole new day. What have you done?”

  I tucked my head into his shoulder as if he were still the furry, wolfish Bastian and said moodily: “I don’t want to talk about it. I just want a hug.”

  “It’s my pleasure, little witch,” Bastian said in his laughing voice. He took my far hand and pulled it across his stomach until I had one arm around him too, and moved slightly so that his chin could rest comfortably on the top of my head. “There. Is that better?”

  “Yes.”

  Bastian’s warm, quiet presence made the churning feeling in my stomach go away, and I began to feel more comfortable. I said: “I’m glad you came to the dance.”

  “So am I, little witch; so am I,” Bastian murmured into my hair. He sounded as if he were talking more to himself. “It’s odd; I’ve never worked so hard for so little. And yet it has never been sweeter.”

  It was a Bastian-remark, no making sense of it. I said cautiously: “I don’t know what you mean.”

  His stomach contracted with laughter under my arm, and I felt the stir in my hair from his chuckle.

  “That’s what makes it so amusing, my love. How is it that your dance has finished so soon?”

  “It hasn’t,” I admitted. “I just didn’t feel like dancing anymore.”

  “Evidently you didn’t have the right partner,” Bastian said, a little arrogantly. “Come, little witch; I can still hear the music.”

  He pulled me easily to my feet, but instead of settling into a traditional dance hold we remained as we had been before, my head on his shoulder and my arm around him. His hands clasped loosely about my waist and guided me in a series of small, slow steps that mirrored his own.

  “You see, little witch? I can hug you and dance at the same time.”

  “This is a nice way to dance,” I said approvingly. For the first time since leaving the dance I felt properly cheerful. Bastian laughed.

  “My thought exactly,” he agreed. “Now, little witch, tell me: did you come all this way for a hug or was there something else?”

  “Why does everyone think I must want something when I talk to them?” I demanded, pulling my head away from his shoulder indignantly.

  Bastian firmly pushed it back down again into the snowy folds of his shirt and said soothingly: “Hush now. I acknowledge the purity of your motives, little witch.”

  “Besides, it was more of an idea,” I added. “I wanted to try and break the second part of the curse again. I think I know how to do it now.”

  Bastian’s steps stilled and he allowed me to take my head away this time without interfering. I thought he looked suddenly unsure, or perhaps a little uneasy; and it occurred to me to think that perhaps Bastian might want me to kiss him as little as I had wanted Gilbert to kiss me.

  Uncertainly, I added: “Only if you don’t mind, Bastian.”

  “I can’t think of any better way to begin the day,” Bastian said, and there was a queer little smile hovering about his mouth. “Take your best shot, little witch.”

  “Hold still, then,” I said, but I needn’t have bothered to tell him. Bastian was standing wolf-still, his eyes intent on me and somehow nervous. It amused me a little at the back of my mind that he should be nervous when he had once courted three women together. I reached up to draw Bastian’s head down to me, and found that his hair was long enough to thread my fingers through. It was a nice feeling, and it made me forget suddenly the nervousness that had made me keep so far away from Bastian the first time I tried to break the curse. This time when I turned up my face to kiss him, I was near enough to feel the warmth of his body. I felt the uneven brush of his breath on my face and pressed the kiss firmly into his lips, drawing from my memory of Gilbert’s kiss and trying to recapture my sudden knowledge of what needed to be done. The curse didn’t want the businesslike kind of kiss I had tried before: it wanted the curious, soft kind that asked a question, just like Gilbert’s had done.

  Somehow or other Bastian’s arms had gone right around my waist again. Finding this an advantage, I pressed the kiss more firmly into his lips, asking the question. I felt Bastian’s lips part slightly at the same time that mine did, and his arms tightened suddenly around me as he returned the kiss without my urging. At that moment, as I had been certain it would, the second part of the curse broke. A shock of magic burst through us in glowing shades of brilliant gold and rich amber, fizzing where our lips met and all the way to my toes.

  I broke the kiss off with a crow of delight; and Bastian’s arms, which had locked suddenly and tightly around me, pinning me distractingly close to him at the moment the second part of the curse broke, loosened enough for me to disengage my fingers from his hair.

  “It worked, it worked!” I was tingling with euphoria that must have been residue from the shock of magic, and pounced with delight rather than wisdom at the slight flush in Bastian’s cheeks. “Bastian! Why are you blushing?”

  His arms loosened around my waist and then tightened. “You’ve been practicing, little witch!”

  I flushed bright red and tried to twitch myself away, but Bastian was too strong and I was forced to stay where I was. “Who have you been kissing, Rose?”

  “It was Gilbert, and he kissed me!” I defended myself, but couldn’t subdue the ruddy tinge in my cheeks. “Anyway, that’s how I learned how to do it so it’d break the spell, so be grateful. I didn’t want to kiss him.”

  “Perhaps I should be having a w
ord with your bumpkin, then,” Bastian said in his thoughtful growling-yet-silky voice.

  “I can look after myself!” I snapped, with an air of authority that was ruined by the fact that I still couldn’t wriggle myself free.

  “Stop wriggling, you wretch!” Bastian’s arms constricted again, and I knew that they would continue to do so, boy-like, for every wriggle; so I stopped struggling. “It’s not polite to break off a kiss after you get what you want, little witch. It’s polite to finish what you start.”

  “I didn’t want you to have to put up with it any longer than you had to,” I explained, resignedly resting my arms on his shoulders since it didn’t seem likely that he would let me go until he had finished teasing me. “I thought you’d rather have it over with more quickly.”

  Close as we were, I felt a familiar tightening of the muscles in his stomach that meant he was holding back a laugh.

  “Oh, did you? Well, let me tell you, little witch, I’ve no intention of being short-changed, and that means you still owe me half a kiss. But as I’m obliged to you for breaking the second part of the curse, I will allow you to defer payment.”

  I said: “Hah!” darkly, but my rudeness didn’t affect Bastian at all except to make him smile faintly and offer to walk me home.

  I allowed it since he didn’t seem inclined to let me go whether or not I acquiesced, and we wandered leisurely through deep forest hand in hand until Akiva’s cottage segued out of the darkness and halted our progress.

  I must have been more weary than I thought, because when I flopped down on the bed to rest my weary feet for a moment, I fell asleep straight away, fully dressed and with Akiva’s hood spread neatly in a half circle on the pillows about me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I was jerked suddenly and immediately awake the next morning before sunrise, crushed into the bed by an immense weight. I sat up with difficulty and knew in a single, terrified moment that the weight was not physical: it was the weight of the wardship descending on me.