by T. F. Walsh
“I didn’t mean to insult you. It’s nothing to be asha — ”
“I’m telling you. She’s not like that. It’s not like that,” Caleb said, cutting him off. “Leave, Conor. I was wrong to ask for — ”
“I’ve seen the girl, Caleb. She’s quiet stunning.”
“Damn it, Conor. She’s powerful. I’m telling you. We are at risk with her in that prison.”
“Ok. Fine. She’s powerful. You know, though, brother, that line doesn’t sound at all convincing. Really, your tail’s showing,” Conor said, smiling.
“That’s not amusing. You don’t know anything about me. Don’t pretend otherwise. Do not tease me.”
“Calm down, Caleb. Isn’t this what brothers do, tease each other?”
“Oh, we’re brothers now?”
“Now? We always have been, Caleb,” Conor said, looking confused.
“You have a funny way of showing it.”
His brother opened his mouth to speak, but Caleb cut him off. “Look, I don’t have time for this. In fact, I don’t care. Right now, I am only concerned about getting that wolf out of our prison and placing her in my custody. She is the key to defeating our enemies. I must get her out of there.”
“What do you need me to do, Ulster?” his brother asked quietly, no longer looking at him.
“Who did you speak with? What did you tell them?”
“I talked to all of the Elders we had agreed to before.”
“You spoke to all of them? Every one?”
“Yes, every one.”
“You told me that these men wanted to make you king and now none of them will listen to a single one of your ideas? How likely is that?”
“Ulster, the idea that she’s dangerous … it just doesn’t make any sense. Not to me. Not to any of them. As soon as I mentioned it, they all knew or at least suspected that this wasn’t my idea. I insisted they hear me out. Two of them, Burke and Lane, threatened to have me thrown out. Ulster, this isn’t going to work. I’m sorry. I really am, Caleb.”
“Fine.”
“What do you mean, fine?”
“Just leave me. I don’t have much longer, until … just leave me. I need to think.”
“I am sorry, Caleb,” Conor whispered, moving toward Caleb. Then, seeming to recognize that Caleb would not welcome his comfort, he bowed his head and turned to leave. As he reached out to open the door, Conor muttered again, “I mean it. I really am sorry.”
“So you’ve said,” Caleb whispered as the door shut quietly. He twisted away, walking toward the window without glancing back.
Caleb walked over to the now well-worn cushion by the window and sat down in his usual place, staring at the prison. He would have to think of Libby tomorrow, for tonight was on its way. In such a little time, the man he was, and whatever that man could do for Libby, would be lost. The wolf would be free.
• • •
Closing her eyes and breathing in and out as slowly as she could, she visualized the outside of the prison, the stone effigies. The wolf. The werewolf. The eagle. A wide menagerie, each creature eager to leap free from the building, trapped in time, in stone, their legs wrapped with manacles.
Working her spell, she recalled the lessons of her teachers. There exists a small space between what is and what could be, a slippery sideways step between what you know to be real and what you know is possible. The stone wall was rock, was real, was unchanging. As seasons passed, the stone protected the vampires from their natural enemies. The stone wolf was rock, was real. But, in the space between the stone and the creature, a crevice grew, water and wind, understanding the nature of things to be more than they seemed. As the crevice grew, the space between the wolf and the wall grew. As the crevice grew, the space between the stone and the wolf diminished and changed, until the wolf was not stone, until, finally, the stone was wolf: animated, alive, breathing.
The wolf stretched his back. Cracks appeared in the stone as he awoke and shook himself free, dust falling out of his coat which had turned into rough sandy fur, moving sand, dense, but flowing. His gray, chalky eyes scanned around him. He shook his imprisoned leg, the collar falling from his ankle. Leaping from his corner position, he jumped up and stalked along the roof. She could hear his patter of steps above. It was working, actually working.
“What is that? What is that?” she heard Se’ yell. Snapping her eyes open, she looked up to see the guard pacing, looking up at the ceiling, clearly afraid. Above them both, there was the sharp tap of the wolf’s stone nails and a long scratching clatter as his stony nose scratched the surface, sniffing, searching for a way in. She heard the wolf tracking a path to the small circular stone window high above her cell to her right. It was far from the ground, but close enough to the stone and wood beams that the wolf could access the ground floor and the vampire below.
After a few seconds of searching, she saw the wolf, slinking through the window. Slithering onto the beams, the wolf of stone was moving inexorably toward the vampire below. He was angry, determined. At this rate, the wolf would kill the guard — something she didn’t want and hadn’t planned — she had foolishly not anticipated the wolf’s vengeance or his hunger. If Se’ died, she would never be free.
She called out, worried, “Se’! Give me the keys. Hurry, I can stop him. Hurry. Hurry.” Her hand stretched out, her eyes glancing anxiously back and forth between the wolf and the guard.
Seeing no other option for aid, the guard nodded mutely and tossed the keys in her direction. As the keys arced toward her, she prayed his aim was true. The keys reached her, bouncing on the door and falling away before she could grab them, landing outside her cell. Sliding her arms back through the bars, she threw herself on the ground and reached out, hoping her arms were long enough to grab them. She couldn’t touch them. Damn it. She couldn’t touch them.
“Help me,” Se’ cried. “Help me.”
She looked up. The guard’s eyes were wide with fear and the wolf was pacing, stalking his prey. She wanted to help him. She needed to. They would both be harmed if Se’ were injured in any way, but the magic had to run its own cycle, and the keys … the keys were too far away. Just about an inch too far.
Chapter 13: ASCENSIONS
Waking groggy and stiff, and holding his eyes closed because of a raging headache, Caleb stretched, and his body registered several things all at once: he was inside, in a bed, and in a considerable amount of pain. He knew, without looking, that he was in his sleeping chamber in the king’s palace. Disoriented from pain and from waking in a room in which he never slept, Caleb lurched up from his position on the mattress, and, coming to, tried to piece together what might have happened to him.
He had shifted.
He recognized the telltale ache of his body. But why had he awoken here? His guards usually chased him out of the city, into the outer forests and nearer to the home he usually kept, far into the woods near the mountain, at a distance safer for him and his people.
So what was he doing here? Had something happened? His mind was full of questions, and his body was burning. He pulled up his long legs and, leaning his elbows on his knees, rested his aching head in his hands until, finally, after countless minutes, his own mind started to rise from the murky muddled thinking of the wolf, and he was able to notice and understand shouts and agitated shuffling in the rooms near him.
“What do you mean she escaped? Where is she?” asked Cummins, a councilman he recognized, one of the opposing faction. A small vampire, Cummins was stooped with age, frail, his body bent, though his body was still less crooked than his personality. Caleb had no trust for Cummins.
What did he mean escape? Could he be talking about Libby?
“Damn it, you fool. Answer me.”
“But, Elder Cummins, I report — ”
“Not another word about your chain
of command. I order you to speak, and so help me if you do not, you and your entire family will never forget this night.”
“We captured her, Elder. She’s in the prison,” the young voice replied, nervous, shaking. “Actually, the prince helped. The prince and his Guard apprehended her. Although she managed to escape her cell, the prince and the Guard stopped her before she got loose in the city.”
He had helped capture her? How? It made no sense. The wolf was not a cooperative creature. Perhaps the speaker was too eager to aid the prince with a useful fib.
Caleb heard a loud smack. Had Cummins hit the boy?
“Enough of this nonsense! Someone, bring the guard that was on duty. Bring him now!”
“The guard is already here, waiting for you,” interrupted Nevan quietly. “I’ll get him from the outer rooms.” He spoke calmly, for Nevan would not fear Cummins, but he clearly thought something was wrong or he wouldn’t have acted with such reserve. Nevan, like the young officer, respected the chain of command. The soldier and Nevan should only answer to Caleb, and Nevan would not permit a breach of protocol without reason. What had happened during his shift?
After a few minutes, Nevan returned with an old guard, who, if Caleb’s ears heard right, was bowing up and down, the floor boards rhythmically creaking, the sound of his voice distorted by posturing as he mumbled, “Elder Cummins. It is an honor. Indeed, it is. An honor for — ”
“Tell me what happened,” the Elder said harshly, cutting him off.
“I don’t really remember. I was in the cell chamber, my Lord, talking to the wolf. And then I heard ripping and cracking outside, sir. It sounded as though a wall was splitting, just cracking apart. It was … well, it was like a dream I always have. The wolf came loose, sir, and attacked me. But it stands there still, under the chains. I don’t understand it. I don’t understand it at all. The doctor, he was called. I was bleeding, sir. Actually bleeding. Then I wasn’t.”
“Either he’s insane or drunk! How dare you — all of you — waste my time with such a story. I want answers, and I want them now,” Cummins screamed.
Nevan interjected, “While this sounds beyond credit, I assure you, he is telling you the truth. He was, in fact, bleeding. The stone wolf was gone. I was there, and I saw it myself as did the other men of the Guard. I don’t know how it happened. But it is true.”
“Libby,” Caleb whispered to himself, amazed, pleased by this turn of events, almost smiling. “Of course, Libby, you would find a way to get yourself out.” He lay down again in the bed, stretching, relaxed, hopeful for the first time in many weeks. This might be just the evidence he needed to prove that Libby was dangerous in the custody of the city. The others had no idea of her magic, but he knew Libby. He knew her. Suddenly, a question occurred to him. Although this was just another of her spells, how did she know Se’? How did she know his nightmare or what would terrify the man? How did she know?
• • •
“What are you doing, sitting in here and brooding? It’s pathetic, and I mean that in the nicest way possible.”
Turning out of the window, Caleb glared at the speaker. It had been two days since Libby’s attempted escape and he was no closer to freeing her. He was not in the mood to entertain. “My, my. What an unpleasant surprise, Moiren. And to what do I owe this displeasure?”
“So handy with the words, and yet so unable to hold the crown. Really, my young student, you disappoint me.”
“You haven’t been in the Capitol City in a long time, Moiren. What are you doing here? Have you come to torment me? Because, I assure you, I have quite enough to do the job for you.”
“I have come to offer advice.”
“Advice?”
“You have forgotten that you control the Arm of the Race. As heir, you control the military. The men of the army openly serve you. Yet, daily, you lose your power to rule, you lose ever more the faith of your people.”
“How can I loose what was never mine? They fear me.”
“They fear you. That’s true. But in their fear is their respect. They will follow if you but lead. You’ve played the Elder’s game, waiting patiently for an acceptance that will never come. The army already belongs to you. You need to take the reins of your kingdom. Cease asking for them.”
“What would you have me do?” Caleb, asked frustrated, looking out the window, away from Moiren. It was always the same with his old teacher. Criticisms and corrections. He felt like he was back in the schoolroom.
“You wish to free the wolf — the female wolf. It is the only thing that matters to you. It matters to you more than your reign.”
Caleb’s gaze jerked back to Moiren’s face. He expected to see anger or disgust, but Moiren looked as he always had — like he was delivering a lesson.
“If you want this, move slowly, but move. Free her. Free her gradually, but free her. Remember, there are spies everywhere, even in the prison. But let none tell you nay. Do not let her spend another week inside that place. Do you understand me, Caleb?”
“Yes,” Caleb whispered, surprised, as he always was when Moiren taught. “Yes, sir. I understand.”
Chapter 14: REUNIONS AND RENEWED HOPES
Five nights after her escape attempt, Caleb had finally come. Followed by a lackey carrying a chair, without apologies or concern, wearing, as he always did, a blank face, the mask of his office, he had finally come, not as a friend, but as the leader of the vampires. He sauntered in calmly, wearing green robes she had never seen him in, robes she recognized as the official wardrobe of state for his people, and allowed the lowly vampire assistant with him to place a small green chair in the corner. Apparently, the prison cot she was sitting on wasn’t fit for the king.
She had waited for this, desperate for another chance to talk to Caleb again, and now that he had finally come, she cared little for the novelty. She was exhausted, bruised all over, with bones in her hands that would not mend after nights of repeated beatings. The vampires wanted answers, and because violence had not succeeded, Caleb had come.
After the underling situated the chair, Caleb spoke, saying only, “You may go.” Finally Caleb looked at her. He continued staring, alert, slightly eager, but saying nothing. He continued waiting, allow his servant time to give them privacy.
She had anticipated their reunion, but this had not been a scenario she had imagined. There had been more words and more urgency on both their parts, certainly more friendship. This awkward silence was reasonable, understandable in some ways, but for some reason, unforeseen. What had she expected? Tears? Remorse? Apologies? Here she was, dreaming again.
“Libby,” he said softly, breaking the silence.
She merely looked at him. It seemed she, too, had no words.
“Libby, you cannot do anything like that again.”
She stared at him, dumbstruck. This is what she had waited weeks to hear from him?
“Libby, don’t just sit there. Talk to me. Tell me that you understand the danger you’re in. Tell me that you will not do anything like that again. Promise me.”
Noting a lack of concern in his voice, one that belied his concerned words, she snapped back, “Hey, Caleb, everyone knows that I have nowhere to go. Don’t worry about it. After my little misstep the other night, you know, the one where you and your friends got in my way, I finally figured it all out. I don’t need to escape.” She looked away from him, resting her head on her bent knees, mumbling, “I’ve got nowhere to go.”
“Libby. I — ”
“Look, I’m not in the mood for a pep talk. What do you want?” she asked, still not looking at him.
“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure.”
When Libby remained silent, he continued, “I don’t entirely understand the extent or nature of your gifts, but I do want your help.”
Her head sprang up, surprised, dis
believing. She replied, sarcastically, “My help? The help of a werewolf imprisoned in the vampire city? You are in trouble.”
“Yes,” he answered simply, moving to sit in the chair that had been placed in front of her. “But it seems you are just the solution I need.”
“Wow. Caleb, I had no idea. I am so relieved that I can help you. That really gives my life meaning,” she replied, wearing an exaggerated smile.
“Libby, I know you’re angry, but I need you to be patient before you get yourself into more trouble.”
“What do you mean, more trouble? How much more is there?” She hated how weak and afraid she sounded.
He merely arched his brow at her. She couldn’t tell if his expression meant that he thought that she was missing something obvious about vampire politics or whether he was frustrated with their conversation, and she honestly didn’t care. Right now she just wanted him to leave her alone.
“We have to find a way to work together. Don’t be petulant. I know you’re angry, but we — ”
“You know I am angry? What insight! You brought me here. You prevented me from leaving. Your men brutalize me, and you know I am angry. Congratulations. Now, get out.”
“Brutalize? What are you talking about?”
“Wow. Playing the innocent. That I didn’t expect.”
“Libby, tell me what you mean,” he said, his voice rising slightly.
“I have no desire to summarize for you what you already know. Please, don’t do this to either of us. I don’t have the energy to play victim to your savior right now.”
“Damn it, Libby. Tell me. Did someone hurt you?”
“If you say another word about it, Caleb, I swear I won’t utter a single syllable to you ever again. Ever. Get to the point. What do you want?”
“Libby, you’re angry at me, I get it. I understand it,” he said. Then he whispered, “But please believe that I do not want you here.”