Wolf's Eye

by Rae D. Magdon

  “Our wolf bodies and half-shape are not curses. If you train your mind and body to use them, they are becoming tools.” Larna looked at me with large brown eyes. Her short, messy black hair made her look very dashing. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” And I did understand, but not about half-shape or tools. I understood that there was a special connection between Larna and me. I wanted to see where it would lead us.

  …

  Chapter Seven:

  For the next hour, I sat with the Wyr around the fire. A few strangers came and left the conversation, but Farseer, Larna, Yerta, and most of the group stayed. They did not introduce themselves by name, but I could separate their scents, and I tried to remember them. Perhaps names were not as important to Wyr. I did manage to match a few names to faces and repeated them to myself so I would not forget.

  They told me a little about their lives. Farseer explained that Mogra had been collecting travelers in the Forest for almost six years. Jana Farseer had been one of her first pets, but he managed to escape. As the years passed, he tried to free others. The pack was over forty strong, with a few children among them.

  “Sometimes, the witch sends her dogs to hunt us, but we are faster, stronger, and smarter.

  They are rarely finding us,” said Goran, a Wyr with a dark beard and a heavy forehead.

  “Her dogs?”

  “The Wyr she puts under her control,” Yerta explained. “Her magic is strong, but they are mindless. She has to command them. We can think for ourselves.”

  “Be quiet, Pekah ,” said Goran, who looked angry. He had wanted to answer my question himself.

  “But aren’t they still dangerous?” I asked quickly, trying to smooth the situation.

  “They would be, but we are clever and we know the forests,” said Jana Farseer with the wild white hair. “It is sad that you call your brothers dogs, Goran. You were nearly becoming one of them yourself. The witch clouds their minds.”

  Goran, the dark-bearded one, looked shamefully at the ground. I was surprised that Farseer did not scold him for snapping at Yerta. He seemed nice.

  “Is that all she does?” I asked. “Send the other Wyr after you? You are a threat.”

  “She has an army to build. People are going missing in the forest all too often.” I agreed. As a child, I heard stories of young, strong men and women disappearing without a trace.

  “They say,” said a thin female beside me, “that she might be working with the Queen.”

  The rest of the small circle frowned at her, and the unfortunate speaker also lowered her head. “Kera,” Jana said, warning her to be silent with his eyes.

  “The Queen?” I asked.

  Kera did not answer. She glanced guiltily at the ground instead.

  “I think I should be taking you to bed, Cate. You are tired.” I recognized Larna’s change of subject for what it was, but did not feel comfortable enough to insist on an answer.

  With my belly full of cooked meat and dry fruit and my head filled with more questions, Larna showed me back to her small hut. My body was drained, but my mind was racing. So much had changed so quickly… Ellie would never believe what had happened to me. I gasped, suddenly remembering my journal. I had not written in it for several days. Ellie would be worried about me.

  “Cate?” Larna asked, making my name a question. “Is something wrong?” The concern on her face took me by surprise. It was… touching. My cheeks grew warm.

  “My friend,” I explained. “She will be worried about me.”

  “You are a Wyr now. Friends might not be your friends any longer. Family will not understand. I know.” She sounded sad when she said this. My heart clenched in my chest. Was Larna right? Would Ellie, Sarah, and Mam reject me?

  “No,” I said confidently. “My friends love me.”

  Larna frowned. Even her frown was beautiful, I thought. “Send her a message, if you must. But do not be telling her where we are. Wyr are hated by many humans.”

  Normally, I would have said no. But I thought about it and some deep part of me knew that I needed to stay with Larna. Ellie would try and bring me back to Baxstresse if I told her where I was. Now that I thought about it, I had no idea what part of the Forest I was in anyway.

  “Fine,” I said. Larna’s face brightened. I wondered if my staying pleased her because she wanted to protect the pack or because she was drawn to me.

  That night, in Larna’s small room, I thought about what to write to Ellie. I was not afraid of rejection. I was worried that Ellie would come to fetch me. And so I decided on a pleasant slant of the truth. My letter started: “Oh, Ellie, I have met the most amazing woman.” I told her everything. I described Larna’s eyes, the way she moved, the way she spoke. Maybe I was sensitive to these things because I had become a Wyr, but I think that they were tied to her core – protective and silent. She spoke in longer, Amendyri-structured sentences, but she was quieter than most.

  I poured my thoughts, hopes, and dreams into the letter, but I kept my fears to myself. I told her about Mogra and the cave, but I focused on Larna’s bravery, not on how terrified I had been. I hoped that Ellie would become distracted by thoughts of Belle, her own hero. Then, she would be far too busy to worry about me.

  Reading over the letter before I signed it, I realized that I sounded like I was in love with the strange, dark warrior. I had only known her a little more than a day, but I wondered. Impulsively, I added a line to the end of my letter. “How long did it take you to fall in love? When did you know?”

  I closed the journal.

  …

  Larna was not in her hut the next morning, so I ventured out on my own to wander the camp. The early morning sun warmed my face and hair, making shining, moving patterns over the leaves like light on water. The grass felt strange under the soles of my bare feet.

  Others were moving about outside, carrying empty sacks or small stone knives. For the Wyr, daytime meant working to find food. Perhaps Larna was already out hunting. A small group was working to raise another hut off to my left, but she was not among them.

  Near the fire pit, which was still black from the night before, a silver-haired woman with strong bones in her face was mending a pile of clothes. Her thin fingers moved quickly with the flashing silver needle. Finally, something normal and calming in my unsteady world! I never would have imagined that something as simple as sewing could make me so happy.

  I approached the woman cautiously, in the non-threatening half circle from the night before. “Arim dei,” I said, keeping my eyes a little lower than her face. I had no idea where these new silent rules came from. I was a new member of this pack and I did not want to offend anyone.

  The woman’s face broke into a smile as she saw me. “Arim dei, Cate. You are feeling better, little sister?” I blushed. Did the entire camp know about me? I answered my own question. A new face in a pack of forty was hard to miss.

  “Yes, thank you,” I said. “May I help you?”

  I spent the next few hours helping with the pile of clothes. The woman’s name was Aria and she told me a little more about life in the Farseer pack. “I felt trapped at first. I did not want to be staying away from my village, my family. But Wyr need the pack. It is in our blood. Pack is family.”

  I was not afraid of staying with the pack for now. I wanted to be near Larna. Even while she was away, she dominated my thoughts.

  After we worked our way through the pile of clothes, Aria and I shared a meal of salted meat and bread. I wondered where the Wyr got the salt, but did not ask. It was a simple meal, but I was grateful for it. As I swallowed my last mouthful, I saw another Wyr to my left. He was tall and reedy, with sharp shoulders and dark eyes. His nose was slightly hooked. When he saw me, he changed direction and headed for us in a straight line. I wanted to take a step back.

  “Hosta,” said Aria, who looked a little uncomfortable. The male nodded to her, but did not speak. Instead he – Hosta, I reminded myself – turned and looked at me.
There was something familiar about his eyes. Maybe I had seen him briefly last night?

  “So, you are the new female,” he said, studying my face.

  “Hello, my name is Cate.” I brushed my hair off of my neck and stood with my feet apart. I did not like being referred to as a ‘female’. It made me feel like breeding stock. I was careful not to challenge Hosta with my body language, but I did not go out of my way to be submissive, either. I had to carve out my place in the Farseer pack sometime, I thought. So far, they had been receptive and I was beginning to feel more confident.

  “Cate,” said Hosta, tasting the word in his mouth. His smile was very wolfish, even on his human face. He seemed to realize that I was uncomfortable and said, sounding much more polite, “are you from Seria, Cate?”

  I answered him uneasily. “I lived there for almost ten years, but I was born in Amendyr.”

  “It is not good to be a Wyr in Seria. Most of us come here.” I did not know how to answer that.

  “We are not in Seria,” Aria interrupted.

  “Well, this place might not be what you are used to. We are still after building it, you see.” The camp was very different from Baxstresse, certainly, but I did not say anything. “And besides, there are strange things happening in Amendyr.” I had heard the same from Ellie. Even Sarah and Mam had heard. The tight border security was proof that something was happening. “It never is hurting to be sure of your friends in times like these.”

  “The pack is your friend,” said Aria.

  “Of course,” Hosta said smoothly. “Of course. But trust is hard to come by. Arim dei, Cate. Aria.” And then he walked away. It was sudden and left Aria and I feeling threatened.

  “Hosta has been here for six years, almost as long as Farseer,” she said.

  “That long?” I asked, not really listening. I was still watching Hosta’s retreating back. Soon, he had melted out of sight.

  “He has a brother, Yerta. They were captured together.” I realized why Hosta’s gray eyes had seemed familiar. They reminded me of his brother’s. Now that I thought about it, their bodylines were similar, although Hosta was taller.

  “They do look like brothers,” I said, mostly to myself.

  “Yerta is friendlier with strangers. Then again, that is his place.”

  “What do you mean, his place?”

  “That is his role,” Aria said, as if that explained everything. “But Hosta… he can be off-putting. Farseer trusts him.” So I needed to trust him, too. That was the unspoken message. I looked at Aria, telling her that I understood without words.

  …

  Larna returned to camp just before nightfall. I was inside of her hut, waiting for her. She smiled when she came in and saw me. We came together cautiously, unsure of our boundaries, but wanting to touch each other. She put a hand softly on my shoulder and I pressed my side against hers, just slightly. “Hello, little bird,” she said.

  “Hello.” I smiled back at her.

  “There is a Singing tonight. Would you be wanting to go?”

  “What is a Singing?” I asked.

  “All of us meet outside and sing to the sky. You will need to be changing.”

  My eyes went wide. Changing? I was not sure I wanted to. Changing would prove that I was a Wyr, not a human. If I stayed in human shape, I could pretend that I was still the same.

  “You should not be afraid.” Larna’s thumb stroked my lip and her brown eyes looked down at mine. Her touch was familiar.

  “I will try.” And part of me wanted to try. I wanted to please Larna.

  “Good,” Larna said. She did look pleased. “The wolf is a part of you now. It is a bad thing to be hiding it inside yourself. It could be coming out and hurting someone later.”

  “How do I change?” I asked.

  “First, take off your clothes.” My mouth fell open and I blushed terribly. I felt each freckle on my cheeks burning like a small spark.

  “But – why…?” I stammered.

  Larna stroked my cheek. “I will be doing the same, little bird. You canna be a wolf in human clothes. They do not fit. For Wyr, bodies are not hidden. No one will be bothering you when they see you with no clothes. We are still inside. I am the only one here.”

  I felt a little better. I was still frightened, but interested to see what Larna looked like without her clothes. Backing away a few steps to give me space, Larna began pulling her shirt over her head. She kept her eyes directly on mine as she tossed it onto the floor. Her breasts were small and high, the tips curled. Was she cold? Excited? My eyes moved down. Smooth brown skin stretched tight over slabs of muscle. I turned away as she began tugging at her pants.

  With my back to her, I undid my own shirt, pants, and underthings and left them in a pile on the floor. I crossed my arms over my breasts, almost wanting to cup one hand between my legs and hide myself. I felt Larna’s burning eyes on my back, but did not turn around.

  “You may be staying like that, if you want,” she said. I thought that was best. I knew that if I turned and saw Larna completely bare, the sight would haunt me forever. And this way, she would not see all of me.

  “Close your eyes.” Larna’s voice covered me in a blanket of warmth. I felt safe with her.

  My arms fell to my sides, relaxing. “Pull skin into muscles. Pull muscles into bones.” My skin felt alive and tingling.

  “Think of your breathing. Breathe slow and deep. Now, imagine running. Running through tall grass, through trees. Think of smelling. Think of chasing.” My muscles curled and stretched and rippled. Even my bones ached. Every part of my body seemed to be waking up. There was warm, humming magic in my blood. I wanted to move, wanted to stretch out my legs and run. I could smell Larna beside me, and felt her energy touch mine. We would run together.

  “Think of the moon. Think of the snow. Think of the forest. Your home.” All of these thoughts should have crowded my head. Instead, they wove together into a picture that I could touch and smell and taste.

  I was running through the high grass, brushing the earth with my paws. My paws? There was a sleek gray body beside me, covered in dark, bristling fur. I knew that it was Larna, even though I had never seen her in this shape. The smell was the same.

  I was a wolf. It felt like a dream. I was a wolf. And I was still Cate.

  There were more of us. I could sense them, but could not see them. I could smell their bodies, too. When I reached them, they surrounded me. I found myself in the center of a tight circle. Black, twitching noses and warm breaths pressed in on all sides. They were learning my scent. It did not make me feel strange or uncomfortable. This felt as natural as shaking hands.

  One of the wolves tilted their chin, opened their throat, and howled. The cry poured out of two mouths, then four, then all. Everyone was singing together. I lifted my head and sang to the sky with them. I was a small part of something large and powerful and old. With Larna beside me and the pack around me, I felt connected.

  …

  Chapter Eight:

  My life began to fall into a routine. During the next week, Larna left early in the morning to go hunting. When I woke up after her, I went outside to find Aria, Yerta, or one of the other Wyr. They would find somewhere for me to work for a few hours. Many members of the pack came to say hello to me or worked with me. Most of them were very friendly. I was quick to remember faces and smells, but names came more slowly.

  Many of us ate lunch together. Sometimes, Larna got back in time to join us. Other days, she did not get back until late in the evening. I always greeted her with a hug. Every day, I found myself growing more and more attached to Larna. When she left to hunt or patrol the Farseer territory, I felt a strange, gnawing restlessness that I could not explain. My hands twitched because I wanted to touch her skin. My mouth ached. My eyes stung bitterly. My chest felt like it was weighed down with metal.

  I could not talk about this with Larna. It would have been too much, too soon. Our friendship was still so new, so fragile and vul
nerable. I did not want to upset the balance. When she did come home, I ran into her arms and hugged her. She would stroke my back and murmur in my ear. “See? I told you I would be coming back to you safe, Catie.” And then I would smile we held each other tight.

  On the second day, Ellie wrote back to me in my journal. The first paragraph demanded to know exactly where I was. In the second paragraph, she threatened me with bodily harm. “If I find out that you really are hurt and you have been lying to me, I will make sure you hurt even worse when I finish with you. I am sick with worry.”

  I realized that maybe telling Ellie the whole truth was a bad idea. Luckily, she still did not know where I was. Larna had been right. If I gave her directions, Ellie would be here in less than a week (if she could find the place). I hoped that she would calm down once I wrote her back.

  As I read the rest of the letter, my eyes stuck on a few sentences. “You asked me when I knew I was in love. The deepest part of my heart knew the moment I saw Belladonna’s face. The rest of me did not catch up until I read her diary. It took me a week to realize that I could not live without her. I knew it was love because every moment I spent with her was better than the moment before. I wanted to share every single moment of my future with her. Forever.”

  That answer struck a chord in me. It described exactly how I felt. Tuathe. Two-souls. That was what Ellie and Belladonna were. The more familiar I got with Larna, the more I wanted to know. It was like a craving. I just wanted more of her time, more of her attention, more of her. But was I really in love with her? I was afraid of the answer. What if I was too shy, too damaged, for love? What if Larna did not want me?

  “I have no idea if you are in love with Larna or not,” Ellie wrote, “but you sound like an infatuated schoolgirl. That is very unlike you, Cate. If someone has finally turned your head, it must mean they are extraordinarily special.”

  Ellie’s letter also had lots of questions. Most of them were about Wyr. I still did not know very much about them myself. “When I told her, Belladonna’s first instinct was to go to the library. By the Saints, I think she would live there if I did not make her come to bed.” I blushed at that part. “She read all about Wyr and tried to explain the different ways they were made. I did not understand most of it. What I want to ask you is how it feels. How do you change? Are your senses stronger? Do you feel different? Does it hurt?”