Kalwyn nodded. “Good. You are better at cards. Have you practiced singing?”
I had, but only a little. Kalwyn insisted that all Shamans sang, but I was not so sure. I did not like the sound of my voice. I refused to sing in front of anyone but my teacher, especially Larna. I hoped she could not hear from outside…
Kalwyn noticed my glazed eyes. “You did not,” she guessed correctly. I blushed. “Were you studying your history, then?”
“Yes,” I said truthfully, “but there are too many names.”
“You must know history,” she insisted. “You must be learning of the High Ariada and Kalmarin. They are your past. You are their future.”
Those words triggered a memory. The High Ariada. There was something I needed to ask… Suddenly, I remembered. My long-ago conversation with Cieran, Prince Brendan’s advisor, came back to me. “Kalwyn, what do you know about Umbra?”
Kalwyn looked surprised, but she composed herself. “Where were you hearing that name?” she asked, too casually.
“Cieran, the magical advisor in Seria… but you said it, too. I remember now. It was on the first day I met you.”
Kalwyn sighed. “He was the last of the High Ariada. Not a good man. No, not good. He was trying to steal dragon magic by draining a hatchling. When the magic was released, there was too much. He and his wizards could not be controlling it. Many died.”
The story sounded familiar. “I have heard that before,” I said, mostly to myself.
“It is a children’s story. Well, what happened after is a children’s story. The Prince of Amendyr went to Feradith the dragon, because she cursed the kingdom with a drought. He offered his life for his kingdom, and she lifted the curse. But she let him live. Instead, she went and ate all the wizards that were still living. That was the end of the High Ariada. ”
I knew that someone had told me that story as a child. Maybe my mother or even my grandmother. I thought of something else. “A necklace,” I asked, “was there a necklace in the story? My friend Ellie – well, her stepsister had a necklace. It looked like an eye, and –”
“Slow down, child! I am not understanding. You go too fast.”
I had to explain the entire story to Kalwyn, who listened intently. She seemed very interested when I described what the sorcerer’s chain looked like. “Maybe it was once belonging to Umbra,” she said. “I do not remember anything about a chain in the story. But the burning magic in it could be some of the dragon’s stolen power. Dragon magic lasts for centuries and stays bright and strong.”
I tried to remember everything that Kalwyn had told me about dragons. I would have to write everything to Ellie later. “The chain is destroyed. How could we know?” I asked her.
“Maybe we will never be knowing,” Kalwyn said, but I could see unspoken thoughts behind her eyes. “Gather your things, Acha. Next time, we can look through some of my books. Maybe we will find something to tell your friend from Seria.”
…
My lessons with Kalwyn were postponed one day when the Farseer pack decided to take me on my first hunt. It was all very informal. Larna remembered that I had expressed an interest and asked if I wanted to come. “You might only be watching this first time,” she said, “but it will be good for you to help the pack.”
“As long as I won’t be in the way,” I said, a little nervous.
“Of course not, little sister,” said Jana Farseer. We were in a small group of twelve, gathered by the large fire pit. “Larna told us you were wanting to come. Now that you have been through your first half-shape, it is time.”
“Everyone must be having a first hunt,” added Kera, a thin female with a bright voice.
I regained some of my confidence. I was not sure if I could kill another animal, though. It was not the same as butchering a hog. I would be using my claws and teeth instead of a knife.
I did not feel nervous again until the hunting party started stripping. They were casual about it, chatting together as they unbuttoned shirts and kicked off pants. Larna noticed my burning cheeks and stepped in front of me, blocking my view. I cast my clothes away quickly, and started the change before anyone could look.
Shedding my human body and shaping into a wolf was not difficult. I thought about it and it was. My fur stretched from the strip sewn into my hips and covered me like a warm glove. My muscles curled into a comfortable, four-legged shape, and I dropped to my hands and knees until they became paws.
The others around me quickly followed, changing their shapes like wind-blown clouds. It was smooth and easy. We all looked to Farseer, whose wolf form was large and brown, with silvery scars on his flanks. I felt Larna’s dark shape to my right. She was panting, eager to find prey. Yerta was on my left. He gave me a friendly nudge and I wagged my tail.
Then, as a unit, we felt a new presence and turned our heads together.
A thirteenth member to our hunting party came from the southern edge of the camp. He was already in his wolf body, which was just as lean and angular as his human one. I recognized his scent, even though I had never seen him under the change’s magic. It was Hosta. My muscles stiffened. Larna noticed and placed herself between us automatically.
The other wolves greeted him politely, with open mouths and wagging tails. He and Farseer sniffed, but Hosta kept his tail low, not offering any challenge. Apparently deciding that Hosta could come, Farseer padded off into a clump of trees to the west. We followed him.
I watched every movement of Larna’s sleek black body, not wanting to miss any instructions. She had to teach me without words. I watched how she rolled her steps so that she did not make any noise and tried to copy her. When she tested the grip of the earth with her claws, I did the same. We communicated silently, but effectively.
Soon, I felt a change ripple through the group. Farseer, who was in front of the others, lifted his head. He sniffed the air, turning his head right and then left. Finally, he made a quarter circle and went on. Soon, I smelled it, too. A herd of deer had been here not long ago.
When Farseer began a brisk trot, we all followed, forming something a little like a triangle. Larna stayed near the front at Farseer’s right. I made sure to keep close behind her. It took us almost an hour to track the deer. They were moving through the forest slowly, grazing and stripping the bark from the trees. It was fall. Soon many of the trees would lose their leaves.
Suddenly, Farseer stopped. He held stiff, almost like a pointing dog. His head was thrust forward, his eyes locked on a target. An older stag with a limp was near the back of the herd. He was a giant beast with a majestic set of horns. In his prime, he must have been an impressive sight.
Larna brushed by my shoulder, leading me off to the right. Hosta took another group off to the left. I knew, instinctively, that we needed to make a half-circle. Like two pincers, the right and left groups would close in once Farseer burst out of the trees from behind. I was not sure how I understood what was happening.
Larna showed me how to lower my shoulders and move silently so that the leaves did not catch against my fur. She showed me how to tell where I was by smelling the ground, judging our distance.
Everything happened in a blur. Farseer charged out at the back of the herd, sending the large brown bodies hurtling forward like a living river. Their hooves shook the ground. Leaves fell from the trees. Larna started running and I followed a breath behind her. Our chests rose and fell, our hearts pounded together. I saw the second group closing in from the other side, cutting off the stag’s path to escape. He reared on his hind legs and turned, only to find Larna’s gleaming white teeth waiting for him. He tried to strike with his hoof, but with a neat clip of his jaws, Farseer moved the deer in the direction he wanted.
It was almost like a game. The stag kept surging forward, trying to break through the circle. Someone’s teeth or claws would block him. Then, the mighty beast ran for me. I knew it was my turn and peeled my lips back from my teeth. I caught his throat in my jaws and felt sweet blood burs
t on my tongue. I did not know how to grip, though, and he shook his large, shaggy head free. Then Farseer ended it, grabbing hold of the stag’s head and pulling his neck down until it snapped.
I watched, euphoric and tormented at the same time, as the creature’s eyes glazed. White specks of foam came from its mouth, its eyes rolled in terror. Larna gave the creature mercy and tore out its throat. Blood matted the black fur of her chest and stained her mouth.
While the meat was still fresh, we ate to regain our strength. I was worried that raw meat would make me ill when I changed back into a woman, but I knew that Larna would never let me do anything dangerous, so I ate with the rest of them.
Farseer took his portion first. Everyone seemed to know when to approach the steaming body and which part to take. I thought that I would be last, but Larna nudged me forward after eleven of the rest had eaten. Yerta had not taken his portion yet. I looked at him for reassurance. With his tail hanging low, he settled on the ground, waiting. I realized that it was my turn.
The sweet taste of blood made me forget my confusion and I ate until my stomach ached with fullness. I wanted to lie on the ground and sleep after gorging myself, but I only had time to rest while Yerta ate and then we started moving again, trailing the herd and searching for another kill to bring back to camp.
…
“You did well today, Cate.” Larna and I were curled up together at the edge of the cook fire. Most of the camp was outside, even though the evening was cool. It was near dark, but the fire gave us some light. The smell of cooking meat was strong and I felt myself growing hungry again even though I had already eaten at the kill site.
I knew that Larna had more to say. “But?”
“But I was noticing that you became upset when Hosta was near you,” she said.
“He does not like you, Larna,” I said, keeping my voice low. We were sitting by ourselves, but there were other small groups near us. I did not want anyone to overhear. “I have seen him look at you with… hatred in his eyes.”
“He is jealous,” Larna explained. “Hosta and I are both respected by Farseer. We are Betas.”
“Betas?” I asked.
Larna raised her eyebrows. “I have not named the rankings for you? Farseer is Alpha. Hosta and I are Betas. We are young, strong. We are an example for the pack. If Farseer was injured, one of us would help lead.”
“Why is he jealous of you?”
Larna thought for a moment. “Well, I have only been here two years. He has been here for six. Also, I think that he is jealous of… ah… you.”
“Me?” That was not what I had expected to hear.
“You are young and beautiful. I think that he wants you. It makes him angry that you are showing an interest in me.” Instead of being flattered, I was disgusted. I did not want Hosta to notice me that way. I belonged to Larna.
“But his brother is so nice…” I tried, not knowing what else to say.
“Yerta is the Pekah . He has to be nice.”
That word, Pekah, triggered something in my memory. Where had I heard it before? My first night by the fire. Goran had snapped it at Yerta, like an insult. “What does that mean?” I asked.
“Every pack has one member that is the lowest… he is the Omega. The last. Pekah are sometimes mistreated, but we need them. They keep the pack together.”
“That is why he is mistreated sometimes? It does not seem fair.”
“Living in a pack is not always fair. Yerta has a good life here. He is still one of us. We would never really hurt him. But someone has to be last or there can be no first. Then we would have no leader.”
I did not like it, but the Wyr part of me understood. It was not easy to explain away, but there was nothing I could do to change it. “Is that why Yerta ate last at the kill?”
“Yes. And it is why Hosta and I ate after Farseer did.” Larna reached up to stroke my cheek with her knuckles. My skin grew warm and I forgot about Hosta. “If you become my mate, you can eat with me,” she said.
Her voice made my body quiver, but I was not thinking about eating food. I hungered for something else. “I want to be with you,” I whispered, burying my face in the curve of her throat. Her long arm hooked around my waist, pulling me close. “But I am not sure when the right time will be.”
“You will know,” Larna whispered back. I hoped that she was right and that our time would come soon.
…
Chapter Three:
Kalwyn’s ‘library’ was not really a library at all. It was more like an explosion of paper and leather binding and ink. There were parts of books piled together, scrolls shoved in drawers, and nothing was organized. Maybe Belladonna would not have wanted to visit this library after all. It might have driven her mad.
“I still am not knowing what you are looking for,” Kalwyn called out. The large stack of books she was carrying muffled her voice.
“Neither do I,” I called back, “but I will know when I see it.”
We had already spent the morning browsing through some of the less-dusty magical texts. So far, there was nothing about Umbra. The High Ariada were only mentioned briefly. “It’s like there is a missing chapter of history,” I mumbled to myself.
As I bent over the page of a yellow book, my quill fell out from behind my ear and clattered to the floor. I bent to pick it up. Under my chair, shoved there during our expedition, was a scroll. I pulled it out and opened it. It was a rough sketch with faded, blotchy text. Underneath it was the caption: “U__ra and t__ __gh Ariad_ _________ the Hatchling”. Not even a complete sentence, but it was enough. The picture did not need words.
There was a circle of thirteen people, all wearing hooded robes. Signs of power decorated the sides and base of a stone table. The corpse of a baby dragon lay on its flat surface. My stomach twisted when I figured out why the signs had been drawn in red ink. The wizards had probably used the Dragon’s blood.
“I think I found something,” I said solemnly. The happy feeling of success had faded. I did not want to look at the picture any more. I handed it to Kalwyn. She held it close to her nose, studying it. Her black eyes squinted as she craned her neck forward. Then, she gave it back.
“Keep it.”
“No, look at the one behind the table. Look at his chest, Acha.” I obeyed and saw that one figure stood out from the rest. He was drawn in darker lines than the others. On his chest, above his heart, was a three-ringed circle. The all-seeing eye. The image was familiar and frightening.
“Put it away,” I said, not understanding why I felt so uncomfortable.
“You will take it with you when you go. It is only a drawing. It has no power over you, Cathelin.” Kalwyn rarely called me by name. I looked up in surprise. “You must be brave, like your Tuathe.”
My face grew warm. “I am not very brave,” I said shyly.
“You are braver than you think.”
“Are you sure that I can take this?” I asked, holding up the yellowed parchment. When I got back to camp, I would copy it into my journal. Then, Ellie could show it to Cieran. I was no artist, but it was the best idea I could think of.
“Yes,” Kalwyn insisted, fussing as she tried to put a piece of wrapped bread in my pack. “You will take it. And some food.” Kalwyn was forever trying to give me food when we were not studying. She said that I was too thin. “Some for the young pup, too. But she is not needing the energy!”
“Larna always has plenty of energy.” I blushed.
My thoughts snapped back into focus when Kalwyn said, “here, take this, too.” She handed me my pack and then set something heavy in my hand. I shifted the weight of the pack so that I could carry it, the scroll, and look at the thing in my hand. It was the golden hourglass. The sand was gathered in the top half, hanging in suspension. The tiny dragon coiled around its curve possessively.
“Why are you giving this to me? I can’t take it.”
“You will be needing it,” said Kalwyn. I tried to protest, but she frowned at me
. “I am the teacher, you will listen to me!” I knew that I would get nowhere arguing with Kalwyn. It was easier to take the hourglass.
“Here, I have one more gift for you. Taking three things on a journey will be bringing you good luck.” I did not know what journey I was going on, but decided not to ask questions. Kalwyn held out the Deadeye. A string was threaded through the hole in the middle and tied in a knot at the back. She draped it over my head, tugging my hair out of the necklace.
“Won’t you need this?” I asked, concerned.
“You will need it more, Acha. Now, go find that handsome woman of yours. Make sure she dinna get herself into any trouble!”
…
“Does it ever bother you, being the Pekah? ” Yerta and I were eating lunch together, since Larna was away from camp for two days. She and some of the others had taken a cart and gone to trade with a nearby village. The trip did explain where some of the items in the camp came from, like the salt used to store meat.
Yerta looked up at me, surprised. A flash of something – Distrust? Suspicion? – crossed his face. He hid it quickly. “There is always a Pekah . Without a last, there can be no first,” he said, choosing his words carefully.
“That is exactly what Larna told me,” I said, frowning a little. I missed her very much and hoped she would make it back tonight in time to fall asleep with me. Even though she still had not joined me in the bed, I enjoyed evenings with her.
“Sometimes it makes me upset, but it is not so bad. The pack likes me and needs me. I am making sure no one is too serious. It is like a job,” Yerta tried to explain.
“It still does not seem right.”
“My brother and I lived in a human village once,” Yerta said. His tone was guarded, but his words were revealing. “Outcasts are tormented there. Anyone who is different… I am part of a family here. I have a role.”
I smiled, feeling a little better. “I am only just learning what it means to be part of a family.” Larna had taught me so much in such a short time. She was becoming more than just a part of my life – she was my life.
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