Asanni

by J. F. Kaufmann

  AFTER WE called it a day, I went straight to Jack’s room.

  “Jack, I want to stay here with you tonight. I want you to hold me, nothing else. Just hold me until I fall asleep.”

  He opened his arms and let me in. We didn’t talk. I put my head on his shoulder and pressed my hand against his chest, his strong heartbeats pulsating under my palm. I lay almost motionless, feeling Jack’s soft, gentle lips on my hair. He tucked the blanket around me and linked our fingers.

  I closed my eyes and let tomorrow come.

  The end of Book One

  The story continues…

  ELLIDA

  THE LANGAER CHRONICLES

  Book Two

  One

  ASTRID HAD the first glimpse of her birthplace, a bird’s eye view, through the tiny oval window of a five-seat, blue and white Baron 55 aircraft.

  Taking turns, James, Betty and Jack gave Astrid a summary of Red Cliffs’ history, geography and contemporary life.

  NAMED AFTER a dramatic mass of reddish rocks guarding its north side, Red Cliffs nestled in a big, wide U-shaped glacial valley that gradually opened toward the south and east sides in gentle slopes. The Great Orme, a hill much older than the alpine mountains that surrounded the valley from the north, framed the west side of the valley.

  A narrow depression between the two lowest hilltops formed a natural passage, connecting the land of Red Cliffs with Copper Ridge on the opposite side of the Great Orme. Most of Red Cliffs’ farms and ranches, with the sweetest grasses and the best cattle stock in this part of the world, were settled southeast of the town.

  “Remember when I told you about Gelltydd Coch?” Jack said and slid his arm behind the small of Astrid’s back.

  “I remember, of course,” she said, leaning her head on Jack’s shoulder. “That’s the name of the place in Northern Wales from where our first settlers immigrated to America. Gelltydd Coch is our transatlantic main branch, sort of. In Welsh, it means ‘red cliffs’. The Great Orme was named after the hill near Gelltydd Coch. Incidentally, both hills have rich seams of copper ore.”

  Jack kissed her temple. “Well done, Miss Spock. Across in Copper Ridge, the Great Orme is called Halti, after a hill in Finland, from where their first settlers came. Now, I don’t think anyone purposely looked for red rocks and copper-rich hills to make their new home. Leland Brandon, Mark and Sid’s father, always says this place reminded them of the old country so they decided to stay here and build a town.”

  “Red Cliffs is different from any other Western Mountain towns I’ve ever seen,” Astrid said, bending closer to the oval window. She took in a small central town square sporting a tiny city hall, a church with a pointy tower and sharp-angled roof, and several official buildings of mixed architectural provenances. “It looks like a little town in Scandinavia surrounded by an Austrian Alpine village. Charming.”

  “You’re more right than you know, Astrid,” Betty said from her seat across from Astrid. “The majority of Red Cliffers came from Central and Northern Europe, shortly after those first immigrants from Wales. Red Cliffs might look like a mismatch of different styles and epochs, but it’s an accurate reflection of our mixed heritage.” She waved in the general direction of the town below. “A few of the first buildings are still around, like the Church and the courthouse. Goblin’s Hollow, our local drinking hole, still has the original walls. The rest was built as the town grew.”

  The residential part occupied the east side of town, spreading out toward the valley. Most of the houses were timber framed, steeply pitched and shingle-roofed. They varied in size and details, but they definitely took rustic chic to a higher level. They were painted in deep yellow, terracotta, olive-green, and dark orange to balance out the dark roofs, heavy window frames and decorative beams. The homes seemed in harmony with their ambivalent surrounding: the wild mountains to the north and the gentle valley to the south.

  Other houses were brick, with roofs covered with frost-resistant, low water-absorption dark slate, suitable for this climate. They were also of different sizes: some had an impressive square footage, while others were quite modest. In spite of their different appearance, the red brick houses didn’t stand out but rather complimented their timber counterparts.

  The town was established in the early eighteenth century, Astrid learned, when the first group of settlers had arrived, but the recent dwellings, both timber and brick houses, were relatively new, comfortable and modern.

  “Those redbrick houses on your left are among the oldest family buildings,” Betty continued, “but they are constantly being upgraded to the most current standards of living. They were built during the Roaring Twenties and in the early ’30s. The Great Depression didn’t affect this particular corner of the world.”

  She pointed to a three-storey rectangular house with a narrow front and long sides, a sharp roof that would allow the heavy snow loads to slide off, big windows and white-painted porch. “That’s your house, Astrid. You probably don’t remember it, you were a baby when you left it. It belonged to your parents.” Betty reached out and gently squeezed Astrid’s hand. “We can go there whenever you’re ready. Now, that big one beside it—”

  “Practically in your backyard,” Jack said and kissed Astrid’s hair, “is our house. Yours and mine.”

  Astrid’s heart skipped a beat.

  “Jack, did you tell Astrid how our clan is organized?” James said as the plane made another circle over the town.

  “Didn’t come up on our agenda, Dad.”

  Astrid shook her head. “I know almost nothing about Red Cliffs. I’m sorry.”

  Betty patted her knee. “That’s okay, Astrid. Nobody will hold that against you.”

  “How could you know, sweetheart, when we all did our best to keep you in the dark? You’ll learn, don’t worry,” her uncle said. “See, our clan is formally divided into twelve Houses. Every Red Cliffs resident belongs to one of them. Heads of the Houses are called Captains, and with the Einhamir, they constitute our government, which is called the High Council. As an Ellida, you preside over the Council and you hold nominal, legal and constitutional power.”

  “Dad, don’t scare her,” Jack said and tightened his grip around her waist.

  “So, you’re saying you’re, sort of, prime minister, and I’m, sort of, Queen Elizabeth,” Astrid joked.

  “Not really. Her role is ceremonial. You’re a real boss.”

  A bubble of hysteria rose up in Astrid’s throat. She swallowed hard and blinked several times.

  “James, for heaven’s sake, stop it!” Betty snapped.

  “Dad!”

  “What? What did I say?”

  Betty unscrewed a bottle of water and pushed it into Astrid’s hands. “Don’t pay attention to your uncle. He is over the moon—his niece is coming home—and on the top of that, she’s the clan’s Ellida.”

  “Didn’t mean to scare you, sweetie,” James said. “It’s a piece of cake, you’ll see.”

  How would you know? Astrid took a sip. “Tell me something else, Uncle. Are all the members of a House related?”

  “More or less. Division into the Houses has its practical reasons—marriages. We’re not numerous. Marriages within one House aren’t uncommon, but only the Einhamir can approve them, after the Council compares the family trees. We have to make sure that relatives from close genetic pools don’t end up married.”

  “Which House do I belong to? Mohegan?”

  “The Mohegans belong to House Canagan,” her uncle said simply.

  Astrid searched for traces of wounded pride or jealousy in his voice, but couldn’t find them.

  “You and Jack are bond-mates, there’s no barrier to your and Jack’s marriage, though, because—”

  “Close relatives cannot bond.” Astrid finished with a smile. “Jack told me that. Who’s the head of House Canagan, then?”

  “James,” Jack said in the same matter-of-fact tone James had used a moment ago.

  “And you’re a
bove us all,” James said.

  Astrid took another swig of water.

  “Dad,” Jack said in an attempt to divert James’ attention from Astrid and her future role, “I met a doctor in Rosenthal, Ahmed Demmir, Astrid’s colleague. He’s one of us. He’ll probably soon move to Red Cliffs.”

  It worked, at least for a moment. “His name sounds Turkish. There are several werewolf clans in Turkey, but no Demmirs among them. A loner?”

  “Yes. Born as a human. He was a young Ottoman yüzbaşi—a captain—in the Battle of Khotyn, 1621. He was badly wounded and left to die. Woke up as a werewolf. The donor’s unknown. Somebody probably tried to save him.”

  “Or somebody got interrupted at the beginning of a feast. So when is he coming?”

  “Soon, I hope. He’s been a loner, by circumstance, not by nature, and he’s tired of it.”

  “Good. Of course he’s welcome.” He turned to Astrid, but before he could say a word, Betty rubbed her arms and said, “It’s chilly here. James, will you please go and fetch my orange sweater. I think it’s in my big black suitcase.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Jack whispered after James went to the back of the plane. He pulled Astrid against his chest. “Are you okay?”

  Astrid closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The warm current ran over her body, relaxing her tense muscles. “I’m fine,” she said with a tiny smile.

  The plane tilted slightly to the right and began a slow turn. As they neared the ground, Astrid saw a patchwork of hotels, lodges, cabins, chalets, souvenir shops, cafes, food stores…

  “The resort is family-oriented, see the gentle slopes and long trails,” Jack said. “There’re quite a few challenging trails, as well, on the opposite side. I remember you saying you’re a good skier. We can try them together.”

  Jack pointed to the various department stores, food stores and home-improvement warehouses near the outskirts of town. Then he turned her attention back to the picturesque town centre with its numerous family businesses: bakeries, butcheries, ethnic grocery stores, pastry shops, printing shops, cafes, restaurants and post office. Everything a town of that size was expected to have.

  “Where’s the medical centre?” Astrid said.

  “That split-level building with lots of windows… there, at the base of the mountain. It’s a small but quite modern medical facility. We have lots of tourists here during ski-season and injuries are common. Our people also need medical attention from time to time, particularly children.”

  James came back with a sweater draped over his hand. He helped Betty to put it on. “Here… Took me forever to dig it out. It was at the bottom of your red suitcase, not the black one.” He turned to Astrid. “As for your job, don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll have plenty to do,” he said, taking his seat beside his wife. “Although, if I were you, I would take it easy. Consider the next couple of weeks as a vacation. You’ll have Morgaine and young Nakamura breathing down your neck. That’s more than enough, you’ll see.”

  Before Astrid could answer, the Baron 55 dipped down toward the runway and soon touched the ground.

  “I hope you enjoyed the flight, Miss Mohegan,” said Andy, the pilot as Astrid thanked him.

  “Very much, Mr. Rogers. Thank you for showing me the town.”

  He smiled. “Please, call me Andy. It was my pleasure. Welcome home, Miss Mohegan.”

  “Thank you, Andy. And please call me Astrid.”

  ASTRID STEPPED out of the plane right into the arms of a tall young man with tousled ruddy hair and dark-blue eyes. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her from the ground.

  “Here is my singer! Welcome home, cousin!”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, Eamon! Easy, man! Don’t scare her or she’ll ask Andy to take her back,” Jack said.

  “C’mon, Jack, you had your chance in the last two weeks. No need to throw a fit, she’s my cousin.” Keeping his left arm around Astrid’s shoulder, he reached out his right hand. “Good to see you, man.”

  Jack shook his brother’s hand. “Good to see you too, Eamon. Now, may I have my girlfriend back?”

  Eamon winked at Astrid. “Don’t worry, coz. We’ll get him out of our hair soon,” he said and kissed her cheek.

  When she realized nobody was going to snatch Jack away from her, at least not right away, Astrid relaxed for the first time since this morning and Ella’s tears, Arnaldur’s tight grip, and the Blakes’ put-on encouraging smiles.

  The lights were on when they arrived. Alec, Drew and Drew’s sister Lily were waiting for them.

  The Mohegan home was a large, comfortable and welcoming place, well-lit and high-ceilinged. It smelled homey, of pine wood and citrus peel. Although the house was evenly warmed up with some sort of central heating, a cheerful fire was burning in the fireplace. The family and their friends gathered around it before dinner was served.

  The big sitting room was furnished with functional and cushy sofas and armchairs in warm, herb-and-spice tones of dark-orange, cinnamon and cardamom-green. The antique coffee table, side tables, chests and drawers were made of rare and elegant, reddish-brown East Indian rosewood, almost impossible to obtain anymore. Vanilla-yellow walls, dark parquet floor, thick Oriental carpets in sage-green and rich red completed the relaxing and harmonious interior. A wide, curved staircase led to the second and third level.

  The house had two dining rooms, both adjacent to the kitchen. The huge rectangular space that probably took up one third of the ground floor was used for frequent formal occasions involving a large number of guests. The much smaller family dining room was an intimate, casual place, with its cherry wood round table that seated eight people in comfortable chairs upholstered with soft cushions.

  Drew and Lily had prepared supper: roast beef with potatoes and vegetables, spinach in béchamel sauce, red bell pepper casserole and sautéed mushrooms.

  “We heard you liked lemony desserts, so I made lemon soufflé,” Lily said as she placed a yellow bowl in front of Astrid.

  “Oh, lemon is my catnip.” Astrid took a spoonful and closed her eyes in delight. “Oh, this is the best lemon soufflé I’ve ever tasted! Thank you!” She smiled at tall, dark haired and hazel-eyed Lily, so different in appearance from blond, blue-eyed and petite Drew.

  After dinner they continued sitting around the table in the dining room. Jack sat beside her holding her hand and playing with her fingers. Every once in a while, his knuckles would brush her cheeks, sending warm shudders throughout her body. The physical sensation of their bond, already familiar, hadn’t lost anything of the thrill and excitement she’d felt the first time she and Jack had touched.

  “Andy’s picking up Morgaine and Takeshi from Denver tomorrow afternoon,” James said. “You’ll soon be very busy, Astrid.”

  “We’re expecting heavy traffic here in the next couple of days. People will come to welcome you,” Betty said. “I know it’s a lot of new faces, but don’t worry, we’ll be around.”

  “I’m sure it’s going to be fine.” Astrid’s voice didn’t sound very convincing, but she smiled bravely. “I’ll get used to it eventually.”

  Jack put his arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple. “Just be who you are, Miss Spock.”

  Astrid sighed. As if there was any other way.

  “Bah, don’t you worry, Astrid. You are our Ellida, you could be spoiled rotten and you would still be ours, as we are yours,” Eamon said. “Besides, it didn’t take you too long to steal some hearts.”

  Jack laughed. “With all the resistance I could muster, it took less than twenty-four hours.” His fingers continued to stroke the nape of Astrid’s neck, easing her anxiety.

  “There’ll be mostly girls, women and children coming tomorrow, just to say hello,” Betty said. “When James and Jack are back, we’ll have dinner here for the Captains, and James will formally introduce you to them.” She turned to her husband, “Can we plan it for next Saturday, James?”

  “Saturday’s fine. Astrid, about your house... We weren’t
sure what you wanted to do with the furniture, so we moved everything to the basement, to make room for your stuff. Alec decided to take as much as he could put in the truck, so pretty much everything from the Rosenthal house is here now.”

  “Really? Oh, thank you, Alec,” Astrid said, touched.

  Alec shrugged and smiled. “I thought you’d like to have your things here. It might help you a bit with the transition. You can always deal with whatever you don’t want later.”

  “I hope you didn’t change your mind about staying here with us,” Betty said. “We don’t want to put you under more pressure, but if you don’t mind, please stay with us. This is also your home, Astrid.”

  “Of course she doesn’t mind, right, sweetie?” James said and patted her hand.

  Astrid eyes filled with tears and she blinked several times to push them back. “No, not at all. I want to stay here with you,” she said. “I don’t think solitude is what I need now.”

  And she meant every word she’d said. Jack would be coming and going, and they couldn’t stay in either her or his house anyway. Not before her next change, at least. Staying close to Jack’s family would help her cope with his absence.

  ASTRID’S PHONE buzzed somewhere in her purse in the sitting room and she excused herself. It was Liv, calling from Seattle. Astrid spoke to her, then to Tristan, then to her grandparents, giving them a brief account of her day so far.

  She heard Liv’s voice again. “Darling, here’s somebody else who wants to talk to you.”

  “Hi, Astrid.”

  A wide smile lit Astrid face. “Hi, Ingmar. What are you doing there?”

  “Attending a wizard-slash-Tel-Urugh strategic meeting. This time we outnumber them. How are ya?”

  “Fine.”

  “Does that boyfriend of yours treat you well?”

  Astrid was quite sure that out of respect the rest of the family was tuning out her telephone conversation. The boyfriend in question apparently didn’t care about privacy issues, and he didn’t find Ingmar’s inquiry amusing.