Moonlight Magic

by Alexander, K. R.

  Finding the cheap nylon pack would be no help. Both phone and paper would have been long destroyed. The phone was backed up, but to not have one at all for an unknown period ahead, and the loss of that notebook that had kept me company for this whole journey, every step of the way…

  Having meant to reach for Zar’s clothes next, I instead stared into the fire, frozen all over again, so horrified it was as if I’d been told someone I loved had died in that river.

  When would the others reach us? Could we possibly still get to town in time? Did I have enough energy left to dry a few more things? Those were questions which should have been racing each other through my mind. Instead, I huddled in my T-shirt with my throat and eyes burning and body trembling, with the aches and pains from the battering through the river finally catching up through shock and fatigue, with a wave of grief for inanimate objects.

  I bit my cheek hard. I wasn’t going to cry over a notebook. We were all right. Even my abdomen felt fine. I couldn’t keep doing this sort of thing all the way through pregnancy, but hopefully a rather rough swim hadn’t done her any harm. The others would be making their way down miles of riverbank to find us now, perhaps with some trouble as the trail did not stay along the river. There was even a tiny chance we could still get back in time to run into those mages.

  A phone and a notebook? That was the problem? More than worried about my baby I was thinking about a phone and a notebook? That was how selfish I was? In a world where people are murdered every day? Where a young wolf can kiss his mother goodbye and go out into the world to do some good and the next time he’s home that home has been burned down, his whole lifetime of notebooks destroyed, his mother dead?

  A tear finally dropped off my lashes and I turned, shifting on my knees, until I could wrap both arms around Zar’s neck and bury my face in his ruff.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, clutching tight for a long, long time.

  When would they find us? All at once, I didn’t want them here yet. I wasn’t thinking about Calum and Frim anymore. Or even about my backpack.

  I released Zar at last and wiped my face, which now had cream-colored bits of his undercoat stuck all over it. He was beautiful: classically marked Eurasian wolf, like Kage, but without the harsh contrasts of Kage’s coat. Zar was all soft French grays, darkening nearly to black at the tips of the guard hairs on his back, lightening to cream across his limbs and underparts. His face mask was also like Kage’s, but gentle like watercolors, with creamy eyebrow spots and pale eyes.

  I stroked him, muzzle and cheeks, both hands on his great head that was larger than mine. “I’ll try to dry a few things of yours also.”

  Zar did not kiss me with a touch of his tongue, or even meet my eyes. He kept his muzzle turned away to the fire. As if here strictly for the role of hot-water bottle and wishing to make that clear.

  “I know you would be better off staying like that until they come and we get out of here, not have to dress at all. But you can’t look like that and safely get back to the Jeep anyway. There were too many mundanes around the loch. So if … you want to talk…?”

  Zar looked around sharply.

  I followed his gaze to something flitting just out of sight in the gloomy forest beyond. It wasn’t one of our pack.

  Chapter 21

  Very gloomy, now that I noticed. More storm clouds, plus nearing sunset, meant that twilight was fast settling. If we weren’t careful we were going to be out here in the dark.

  It was this failing light that made the quick, greenish glow so noteworthy. It was not a person. Not a flashlight. Not something like a phone screen. It was a bright flicker of green moving among the trees and vanishing in a split second, knee-high and some distance away.

  Zar sprang to his paws.

  “Don’t scare it,” I breathed, again grabbing his fur. I tried to put out a message after it, speaking as if in a scry: We want to help you. Please, we’ve been looking for you.

  The light did not return. When I released him, Zar crept into the forest as if on a wire. His ears and nose twitched but he never did seem to find any trace.

  He came back in a minute with a couple more sticks in his jaws.

  “A good sign at least? They’ll come out sometime. They know us.”

  We waited. Nothing more moved or glowed.

  Zar paced away.

  While he changed, I pulled on underwear, but could go no farther than those base layers with the T-shirt. Rotating jeans and top, socks and shoes close up against the fire, I also dried socks, briefs, and T-shirt for Zar, leaving me dazed. I could keep going, but the day had begun with powerful magic and carried through with wind, scries, warding, fires and drying. Starting an interview with wild mages already drained of magical energy could do us no favors. Stefan had said to put a magic block on them and a gun to their heads. I’d never put a magic block on anyone, hadn’t the faintest idea how, and guns in pubs might arouse trouble. I wasn’t sure what that left us, but had to hold something back.

  Zar kept silent as he returned and pulled on what I had for him. Perfectly dry, his softly wavy hair falling just past his shoulders, his bruises all healed while mine were beginning to talk to me. He rested on his knees on the inside of his jacket as I did with mine. Not beside me. If I was at six o’clock, Zar was at three.

  “Are you all right?” He shifted his other clothes before the fire.

  “I think so. I lost my things. Phone and notebook in my backpack.”

  Zar looked down the river, as if to spot the bag somewhere along the shore.

  “Zar? You can talk to me about anything. You know that, right? That’s why we have packs. Needing support, asking for help, isn’t weakness or failing. It’s showing that you have the strength to push on. Even if that means being vulnerable. That’s the kind of courage social animals need—from wolves to humans.”

  Zar gazed into the fire.

  He was as beautiful in skin as fur. Profile smooth and skin dark, especially in the sinking light, he looked like a moody statue—needing only to lift his fist to his chin. I longed to touch him, push back his hair, slide my hand across his back and lean into him as I could in fur. And to see his dimples that showed when he smiled—absent now for how long? And to tell him I understood, or that I loved him, which felt somehow pushy when what I really wanted was for him to feel safe, not pushed, and open up.

  In the pop of the damp fire and bubble of the river, I heard the voice of another. The voice who’s words I had been trying to pin down. A voice speaking of fire and water.

  Instead of drowning, claim the power in your fire and wind and build a sailboat. Show him you will always stand by him, and he will never fail to get you safe across to the other side. If the scorpion scares you, yearling, first befriend the fish. With his Moon he creates. Pisces guides his dreams—therefor his soul. Swim with him, and his Moon will guide you as well.

  “Zar?”

  He finally glanced at me.

  “Thank you.” I swallowed through a tight throat. “Not just for this—what you did. For being my guide in this life. I’m so blessed you’re here.”

  His eyes, already miserable, dropped from mine and his face tightened, drawing away as if I’d wounded him. I lowered his chin, looking into the fire again.

  “Cassia … you don’t need to keep this up.”

  “Keep what up?” So relieved he was speaking I didn’t really care what he meant. Until he answered.

  “You can do better… You have done better. You should be with Isaac. You know that. It was clear from the start. That’s why we couldn’t help ourselves, well … having a go at him early on. I’m sorry about that. We only hurt you, not him—”

  “No, Zar—” Horrified, I reached for his arm, pressing his shoulder. “I’ve had a connection with all of you. Don’t be ridiculous. This is a whole, big, complex—”

  He flinched at my touch, still only looking at the fire. It wasn’t a small flinch. He leaned sideways, moved a few inches on his jacket
to get away from me. “Anyway, I want to help. I want to do my part in the pack and stop this. And you have the rest of them. I hope you’ll stay over here, stay with Isaac—and all of them. But you don’t need all of us once this is over. Certainly not me. You shouldn’t be investing time and energy worrying about discussing my feelings. Your energy is needed in getting to the bottom of this.”

  I just stared at him, feeling that numb cold all over again, those crushed lungs, that shock. When I was finally able to swallow and speak it didn’t sound like me. It sounded like a stepped-on mouse. “Why are you saying this?”

  I must have sounded strange to him as well because he did glance at me. And away. He licked his lips, cleared his throat, turned his black jeans.

  “Why are you surprised by this?” he countered.

  “What?” That same voice, hardly there.

  At last our eyes met.

  “Cassia, you’re a good fit with Isaac. You were all along.” His eyes flicked to the gold necklace, the moon charm below my throat. He didn’t look at the leather bracelet on my wrist that he had made. “He would do anything for you. I mean … we all would. I respect them for it. I know you’re all right without needing me around.” He drew a shaky breath. “Not just him. Kage and Jason—if you want multiple mates—they’ve looked after you. The vampires and mages and reavers… They’d protect you from anything.

  “And Andrew needs you. He’s changed since we met you. At first he was only messing about—he’s like that with most females. Not now. He really cares about you. You don’t know what he was like after … Sarah was killed. That tore up their whole families—hers and his. Thomas and Tabitha and Jason were so worried; thinking he might do away with himself. They got him to pull himself together with a cause—how we had to figure out who did this. More were dying. He and others tried for months—tracking, watching, Andrew constantly at Diana to bring in humans until they tried with a caster.

  “He couldn’t do much, though, because he wouldn’t change. Stuck in skin for eight months. He’d only just put his fur back on in June before you came along and he was being more himself. You’ve saved him. I can’t imagine what he went through… So … I’m glad you’re here for him too. As much as I’m glad the others are here for you.”

  It might have been my expression and open mouth that prompted Zar to elaborate. “He didn’t change because of Sarah. Sometimes a male will do that—spend the eight months in skin with their mate for support and solidarity. She used to shout at him about it—to leave her alone and go change so she could have the vicarious fun instead of fawning around her all the time. I guess he swore he’d stick it out with her, keep his skin until the due date—right around his own birthday. So he hadn’t changed until just a few months ago.”

  Zar pushed back his hair, chewing his lip, watching flames. “You’ve even helped Jed. He’s said more and spent more time in skin outside of work in the past weeks with you than I’d heard or seen from him in the past five years. That’s no exaggeration.” Shooting me a quick look as if I’d insisted it was. “It used to be easy to go a season without hearing Jed say a single word. He’s not a good fit with you. You know that. He should be with a stranger. At least another wolf. You and he… I don’t even… But … I guess you’ve saved him too. I’m grateful you’ve helped him—still are. He didn’t see any value in being in skin at all before you, or talking or connecting in any personal way on two feet.”

  He let out a breath, struggling as he went on with slow, deliberate words. “I wish Mum could have seen him one more time. Seen … how he was around you. How he was changing. She would have…” Shaking his head, swallowing. “You have no idea. What it would have meant to her to know he was even capable of forming an attachment to someone on two feet. Like … a mum seeing her son released from prison. Like a death penalty reprieved. At least she had some clue after that time you had to leave and he sang and got thrown on lockdown.

  “So … it’s good you can help them, and them you, and all maybe somehow work out together. At least some of you. I’m the one you should be free of. I can’t offer you anything you don’t already have better of in them. Nor do I need you the way someone like Andrew does. I might feel like I do, but… Without competing over you we wouldn’t have had half the trouble in the pack that we did all along. More than half. Some of us should have started bowing out weeks ago. I’m sorry it’s taken this long.”

  He snapped more sticks into the fire. “Having Gabe along helped put things in perspective. What’s past, what’s now, what might be. We don’t all have to compete for the same sort of relationship with you. I let how I felt about you blind me to perfectly glaring realities—like you having Isaac to look after you, or Andrew really needing you right when you came along. I wanted you so much by my side to ramble, and in my bed, to wake up with you each morning, and raise our pups together… It only lately dawned on me that I didn’t ask what you wanted. And what you wanted half the time was just to be left alone. To do your work with us and make up your own mind, not be led by the nose or ever have anyone fighting over you. I’m sorry…” His gaze flickered to mine and away. He gulped.

  My vision blurred watching him. Never in my life had anyone broken up with me. If any breaking needed to be done I’d been the one swinging that hammer. And this… I still felt just as cold, just as crushed and breathless as when he’d started.

  “Zar?” I bunched my jeans in my fists, twisting when I should have been spreading them another way before the fire. “Can I tell you something about another member of this pack?”

  I took slow breaths while he again glanced at me. “He was so smart and charming he captured my attention right away. He was funny also because he was well-read in areas of wolf lore and magical beings, but when it came to humans he needed a map, like outdated guidebooks written by ill-informed wolves doing their best to help others like him. These things only added to his charm—like his habit of writing songs or quoting wolf expressions or using hypnotic language and proposing tempting plans.

  “If that wasn’t enough, he had the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen—impossible to miss. He was compassionate, kind, spiritual, and so sensitive that he would hide at the top of castle ramparts as if ready to throw himself off when something went wrong between us. He would have crawled through a dozen silent hives or turned me over to another male if that was who I wanted, just to make me happy. He was also brilliant: a great musician and singer, a writer, a crafter, and maker of exquisite goods that helped to support his pack. He looked after his mother and worried about his brother and hoped to be better with humans one day. He always seemed to have a hopeful look in his eyes. Maybe he was waiting for a chance like this. He was so trusted, so well-regarded, that he raised his hand to be part of the pack taking on the fate of the whole South Coast Cooperative, and his silver said yes.

  “He could go from bubbling over to introspective in a minute, but maybe that was just with me. I never saw him bubbling over with anyone else. If anything, he seemed shy out in the world. It was his internal world that kept him busy. A world of a million emotions in a million seconds. Worlds of song and poetry always dancing behind his eyes.

  “What witch wouldn’t be enchanted under a spell like that? I’ve helped to heal wounds and broken up fights, been caught in the middle of a feud that’s been raging for years, taken sides in the blow-up with Isaac, held Andrew’s hand and Jed’s paw through grief that haunts them, and wrestled with Kage’s insecurities and Jason’s lies and that whole very confusing relationship. Day after day we face another battle. I wouldn’t trade any of it. I wouldn’t throw away any of the hard times for all we’ve gained. But what about you, Zar? Where were you while Kage was sulking or Jed was fighting or Andrew was grieving or Jason was manipulating or Isaac was building a house of cards? Where were you?”

  I waited a long time until he met my eyes. “You were still there. Being smart and compassionate and loving me and supporting us no matter what went wrong. No matt
er how wrong it went. No matter how we screwed up. Even no matter how much I hurt you by staying with Jason and Kage, or dinners with Isaac, or running with Jed when you’d been there first.

  “You were there all along. Taken for granted, as people so often are who do not cause trouble and not start fights and not fall apart and crumble when their strength is called upon. Which is no excuse for ever taking anyone for granted. Least of all someone like you. Because there’s something else about you that was true then, and true now: loyalty. And it’s another interesting paradox that the people with the most of it are often conspicuous in how seldom it is acknowledged—much less admired.

  “It seems half a lifetime has passed between us. You are one of my best friends and I don’t know what I would do without you. I do know I’ve been unfair to you and ignored you in the face of darkness for no better reason than you were the gently guiding light rather than the explosion. I know I love you, and I’m sorry—so, so sorry that you, of all people, have been left behind in this pack.

  “No, my relationship with you is not the same as with anyone else. But my relationship with Andrew is not the same as with Jed, any more than my relationship with Isaac is not the same as the one with Jason, or you with Kage. That’s why I need you all. Because you’re not the same. I don’t mean need you as a pack or to get a job done. I mean need you like breath or light. I thought I could be moonlight—reaching all. I was wrong. I’m so sorry, Zar.”

  Zar pressed his hand into his forehead, hunched forward to the fire, shivering as the evening air froze our backs.

  He eventually spoke in a mumble. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Cassia. I never meant to make you feel bad. It’s just—”

  “Don’t, please.” Tears in my eyes, struggling with my own voice. “You’ve lost so much. You’re trying to deal with so much. This is not a time for decisions like that. If you didn’t love me, or if there was something else going on—”