by H B Lyne
Standing there in the cleansing steam she had a sort of epiphany, a deeper understanding of herself, of what she could do and of her connection to the world around her. Grins-Too-Widely was able to keep human eyes from seeing her as she navigated her territory and connected her to her pack, emotionally and telepathically; Pursuit-of-Midnight-Solitude quenched all fear of the darkness, suppressed her scent and made it easier for her to hide in the shadows; and now these purification elementals would help her to remain calm and in control of the Agrius in times of need.
As the steam around her cleared, Stalker was left standing, swaying slightly and with a serene smile playing on her lips. Her hearing seemed a little fuzzy, she thought she could hear applause all around her but it sounded very far away or as if she were under water. Slowly the fuzziness cleared and she looked around to see more than a dozen smiling people clapping and cheering.
Red Scythe took her hand again and led her to the centre of the circle.
'Now the time has come for your fighting heart to be judged by Odin. I call forth a volunteer Berserker to challenge Stalker-of-Night's-Shadow.'
'Right here,' a voice rang out loud and clear, barely allowing Red Scythe to finish his sentence. Stalker whipped around to see a young woman stepping into the circle. She was medium height and extremely lean, she had skin the colour of rich toffee that shone in the light and she wore her black hair in fine braids all the way down her back. Her eyes were cold and hard and a sneer played over her lips.
'Very well,' Red Scythe called out and the circle fell to order. 'Fury will be your challenger. The rules are simple. This is hand-to-hand combat only, no weapons. Innate abilities only, no assistance from allies. No killing blows. The winner will be the first to render their opponent prone.'
Stalker took a moment to appraise her challenger, she looked as tough as nails, and small enough to be quick too. But she looked young enough to not have a gross advantage experience-wise. The two of them began circling each other, just like wolves preparing to fight. Stalker moved slowly around the circle until she drew level with Shadow and glanced at him for what she hoped would be a sign of encouragement, but he was covering his eyes with his hand, his head bowed. Alarm bells started to ring and she reached out to him with her mind as best she could in her senseless human form. He felt her and looked up into her eyes.
Wrecking Crew was all she got from him, but it was enough. Now she knew that Fury's eagerness to volunteer was entirely personal and there was no way she would hold back from this opportunity to dominate the newest member of her rival pack.
With a deep breath of determination, Stalker took a step towards Fury and shifted into her Agrius form. Fury was only a split second behind her. Fury's fur was deep brown, tinged with red, her braids thickened, rather than disappearing and looked like whips running down her back from the top of her bestial head. She was snarling as she stared Stalker down, but Stalker remained calm.
Red Scythe was still stood between them, he raised his hands and the room grew instantly quiet. Stalker's breath quickened, her eyes fixed on Fury. In her peripheral vision she was aware of Red Scythe dropping his hands and stepping quickly back to the edge of the circle. The crowd erupted in cheers and the two combatant shifters launched themselves at one another.
Fury landed the first blow, it was a bone splintering blow to Stalker's left shoulder and she spun around with the impact of it. It was far stronger than it ought to have been and she knew instantly that Fury had tricks up her sleeve. But Stalker knew that she did too and used her incredible agility to dodge the next two blows. She was much quicker than Fury and long seconds passed with no blows landing for either party as Stalker ducked and weaved around her opponent and abandoned any attempts to land hits of her own.
She watched the way Fury moved and used her expertise in reading people to assess the increasingly angry beast opposite her. Fury had a very short temper and was frustrated already, she was throwing her all into every attempted attack, holding no reserves back. She would tire quickly. As she moved, she favoured her left leg and right arm and Stalker focused her keen eyes on that slow right leg. She was sure that Fury was right handed, so what was wrong with that leg? There was the tiniest trace of a limp there. An old injury perhaps. She could use that.
While she was so deeply focussed on Fury's leg, Stalker completely failed to see the next attack coming and Fury landed another excruciating hit, this time right to Stalker's jaw, she felt it crack and her huge teeth dug into her tongue. She roared in pain and backed away from Fury, but her opponent was relentless and pursued her across the circle. Hands of on-lookers made contact with Stalker's back and pushed her back into the fray, she used the momentum to run at her challenger, catching Fury around her middle and spinning her around. Stalker let go and left Fury catching her balance while she regained her own composure. Without waiting for Fury to right herself completely, Stalker launched herself forward and slashed with her talons at Fury's chest and just scraped the skin under her thick fur. It wasn't enough to do any real damage, only enrage Fury further.
The crowd around was chanting and clapping a pounding rhythm, feet were stomping too, it was so much noise. Stalker shook her head and tried to tune it out. She reached out and tried to catch Fury in a grapple, but the other shifter slipped out of her grasp and came at her with a vicious attempt to bite into Stalker's neck. Stalker twisted away and got behind Fury, grabbing her around the chest, pinning her arms by her sides. She used her own weight to flip Fury over her head and slam her onto the floor face first, right into one of the piles of hot coals from the purification ritual. Stalker heard something of Fury's crack and a nasty hope flashed into her mind that it was the bitch's nose.
Fury leaped to her feet, shaking her head and brushing burning embers from her body. Blood splattered from her mouth and left drops on the floor, a huge roar went up from the crowd. Stalker didn't hesitate, she locked her eyes on that weak right knee and launched herself at it. She bent forward and grabbed Fury's leg, she twisted with all her might and dislocated the knee as she pushed Fury to the ground, slamming her down on her back. Fury howled in anger and pain and Stalker roared as she felt Fury's talons pierce her left side and stay there.
The two of them were locked together, Stalker still holding Fury's leg and Fury's claws and fist buried in Stalker's side. Stalker snarled and felt pain racing through her body, it was excruciating, but she refused to let go. She had her, she had Fury pinned and undoubtedly unable to stand and continue the fight. She had won, if she could only hold on until Fury accepted it and relented.
But Fury hissed in her ear and refused to admit defeat. They stayed locked together like that for what seemed like an age. Finally Stalker felt hands on her shoulders and individual voices became clear to her in the sea of noise.
'That's enough. Break it up,' Ragged Edge called out above the din from somewhere nearby.
'Stalker,' Shadow's voice was barely above a whisper in her ear. 'You've won. Let go now.'
She was panting and moaning with the pain in her side, barely able to register what was happening.
'No!' Fury roared in her other ear and Stalker yelped as the talons were ripped from her flesh. Shadow pulled her away and two others had shifted into their Agrius forms for the required strength to drag Fury across the circle and restrain her.
Red Scythe approached Stalker with his hands up and Stalker realised that she was salivating and straining against Shadow's grip just as much as Fury was across the circle from them, she must have looked like a savage dog champing at the bit. She steadied her breathing and fought to regain control of the beast, she felt the purification fae calming her and the beast settled into a quiet rumble in her chest. She shifted back into her human form and slumped against Shadow. The pain in her side doubled and she clutched it with both of her hands as if trying to hold herself together. When she looked down and saw the blood pouring down her side and over her hands, she realised that she wasn't far wrong. She whimpered a
t the sight and tried to look away.
'Don't worry, it's not as bad as it looks,' Red Scythe said soothingly, bending to peer at her wound.
'I have a hole in me!' she cried desperately, but Red Scythe chuckled.
'You'll get used to that.' He straightened up and smiled warmly. 'May I take your hand?' He held his hand out toward her uninjured side and slowly she released her injury and took his hand with her own blood-soaked one, wincing as she stepped forward with him towards the centre of the circle. He gently lifted her arm and a massive cheer erupted all around them.
She was the victor and she had clearly been accepted as one of Odin's Warriors. Elation filled her and she felt a fire flare up in her heart. Odin touched her, she felt it. She felt her body fill with strength and speed and when she gingerly put her free hand to what had moments before been a gaping wound in her side, she felt mending flesh. A grin lit up her face.
Red Scythe released her and she walked slowly back towards Shadow. People moved in towards her, blocking her path and pushing past each other to congratulate and welcome her. She smiled and thanked everyone, but was desperate for the warm arms of her mentor. He pushed his way through the sea of people and grabbed hold of her, he pulled her into a protective embrace and steered her out of the crowd.
'Well done,' he whispered. 'I am so proud of you.'
'Th-thanks,' she stammered.
'Fury won't easily forget that fight, you know.'
'Neither will I,' she replied coldly.
'Now then,' he spoke a little louder. 'Where do you want your first tattoo?'
First Strike provided Stalker with plentiful quantities of the vodka she had so desperately craved earlier in the evening and once she was suitably numb from the alcohol she straddled a chair and leaned over the back of it, while he tattooed the rune for “Berserker” on the back of her neck.
A lively party had sprung up around them, though someone had had to take Fury home. Stalker tried to feel bad for the way the fight had gone, but she couldn't, she felt very pleased with herself and at the same time extremely bitter towards Fury for making it so personal.
By the time her tattoo was finished her tongue and shoulder were completely healed and her side was well on the way.
'It's going to leave a scar,' Shadow told her after cleaning the blood off her.
'Cool,' she murmured into her glass of vodka, a drunken smile stuck to her face.
First Strike held out his right arm and showed her a silvery line all the way down the inside of his forearm.
'That's my initiation scar. Nearly lost the whole arm, but then Odin sent the healing fire and it healed right up in front of my very eyes,' he grinned. Stalker grinned stupidly back and realised that she was having trouble keeping her eyes open. She'd been through an extreme physical ordeal and was now drinking on an empty stomach. Not a good combination.
'Can you take me home now, please?' she asked Shadow and without a word of objection he scooped her up and made their apologies. Ragged Edge came outside with them and she vaguely heard him offer to drive them home before she passed out.
Chapter Twenty-Five
29th November
When Stalker woke up she was lying on the sofa in the attic of the betting shop. Daylight was spilling in through the skylight and it blinded her for a moment as her eyes adjusted. She groaned, her body ached all over and she felt sick to her stomach. She rolled onto her side and braced herself before trying to sit up. As her eyes came into focus she saw her whole pack sitting around staring at her with stupid grins on their faces.
'Morning sunshine,' Weaver singsonged in a voice that was much too loud.
'Oh god. Please, nobody speak,' Stalker croaked, holding her hands up in front of her. Several members of the pack stifled laughter but she ignored them. After a glass of water she was fit to stand and make her way to the kitchen for a family breakfast of sausages. She hadn't even had that much to drink, but the physical strain of the previous day and the lack of food were causing her to suffer now.
'I'd like to offer Stalker-of-Night's-Shadow huge congratulations for being initiated into Odin's Warriors.' Fortune raised his mug of coffee in a toast and the pack acknowledged him with a chorus of cheers and clinking of mugs. 'Whatever else anyone does today, I'd like everyone back here at seven for a celebratory meal. It's the first day of the full moon, which means that Eyes has survived his first month as one of us.' He thumped Eyes on the back and everyone cheered for him.
As the pack began to disperse Shadow took Stalker aside for a quiet debrief of the previous day.
'Red Scythe was very impressed with you and Ragged Edge told me that he thinks you have a very bright future, he said that the stars were aligned and they would sing your song for centuries.'
Stalker looked at him with sceptical disbelief through bleary eyes.
'Hey, I'm just telling you what he said. He's like Weaver, he sees things. Don't let it go to your head though, you're still just a cub.' He gave her a gentle brotherly shove, she fought a wave of nausea and sat down.
Shadow sat next to her and pulled something out of his pocket, holding it out to her. It was a small, neatly folded square of dark blue paper, wrapped around something.
'What's this?' she asked, taking it carefully from his outstretched palm.
'An initiation gift from me. It's my way of congratulating you and welcoming you to my second family.'
She smiled and slowly opened the folded blue paper. Inside was a small disc of clay with a tiny feather pressed into it, a shining glaze coating the whole thing. It was attached to a fine leather strap, the perfect length to tie around her neck.
'Shadow, it's beautiful, thank you so much.' She smiled with gratitude and gave him a hug.
'You don't even know what it does yet, it's not just for decoration,' he said with a grin and helped her tie it around her neck. The clay came to rest on her chest just over her heart and she touched it lightly.
'What do you mean?' she asked, still playing with it gently.
'You know how Flames has those trinkets around his neck? And Weaver's gibbous moon necklace?' Shadow asked and Stalker nodded in reply. 'Well they grant them special abilities, this will do something special for you, as long as it touches your skin. Here, let me show you.' He took her hand and led her up the stairs. At the top he turned her around to face back down them and he flashed her a broad grin. 'Jump.'
'What?' She looked at him with alarm.
'Jump down the stairs. Trust me.' He pointed down the stairs, still smiling. Stalker had always trusted Shadow, ever since they first met. He had never given her any reason to doubt that trust and that bond, so she put her faith in him and leapt out over the steep flight of stairs.
She fell about three feet and then stopped. She hovered in mid air over the stairs for a few seconds and then ever so gently began to drift down to the bottom like a feather. She landed softly and silently, utter amazement filled her and she whipped around to gawk up at Shadow.
'Wow!' she cried. 'Seriously? Does it work from any height?'
He simply nodded, smiling at her elation.
She ran back up the stairs and hugged him again, thanking him repeatedly.
'I have errands to run today and have to take a turn in the shop, but I'll see you back here tonight. You take it easy today, get yourself back into fighting form. Fortune knows you need a little recovery time, I already cleared it with him.' Shadow accompanied her back down the stairs and they said a quick goodbye before he set off out on his errands.
Stalker found Weaver sat in the kitchen and sat down with her. Weaver was looking tired and worried.
'Are you okay?' Stalker asked.
'Not really.' Weaver was sketching furiously on a piece of paper. 'I thought it was a nightmare, at first it didn't feel like a vision, it was just like an anxiety dream. But I've been having it for days now and it's killing me. I can't sleep properly.'
She kept scribbling, not looking up. Stalker looked carefully at what Wea
ver was drawing. Fire. Lots of fire. Weaver threw down her pencil and pushed the pile of papers across the table, scattering them out. Stalker leafed through them, every page was covered in sketches, all featuring flames. There was one of an egg engulfed in flames, another of a figure clad in archaic armour kneeling and leaning on a sword with nothing but black inside the helmet. The last page was a drawing of a huge bird of fire, its wings spread wide.
'Is this a phoenix?' she asked, holding the page out to Weaver.
'I think it must be. I just don't understand. My visions are usually cryptic, but these are really frightening and it's like I'm in them, not just watching them.' She rubbed her face with her hands, transferring graphite powder from her fingers to her temples. Stalker decided not to point this out.
'I think you should talk to Flames-First-Guardian about this. I mean, he understands about fire. Right?' It was all she could think to suggest.
'Do you ever get the feeling that they're not telling us things? And why do they often refer to Artemis as Luna?' Weaver asked in a whisper. 'I know they're basically the same goddess, but all the other shifters I've met call her Artemis.'
Stalker blinked hard, caught completely off guard.
'What do you mean? What are you talking about?'
'Oh nothing, I'm probably just imagining things. You're right, I need to talk to Flames about this.' She gathered all of her sketches and got up from the table. 'I'll see you tonight.' She mustered a smile and left through the back door.
Stalker watched her go and sat frowning for a while, thinking about what she had said. She really didn't know much about what most of the pack did on a day-to-day basis, but she had been putting that down to her hectic training schedule and assumed that it would become clearer as she settled into normal pack life. Weaver had her doubting that.