by Misty Kayn
FOURTEEN
She wiped her sweaty palms on a napkin. Her stomach tingled, her food took the weight of iron and she swallowed bile to keep it down. Cold sweat dripped down her forehead. Lightning flashed above them and split a table nearby. It crashed on the patio’s stone.
"Easy now," Knight said and glanced at the sky. He took her shaking hands, kissed the palms, first the left one then the right one, then placed them around his face and held firm. His wolf didn't appear. Her dove didn't peep a sound. It was as if she’d already left her. Knight didn't blink when he talked of the spirit, he told the truth, a common knowledge to him. Primal magic governed the lands and the spirit balanced their magic. She gasped and tugged her hands away. "I will not mate him."
"He will honor you for life."
What was he saying! She stood and fixated on the calm waters while wringing her hands. Receive Arthur or refuse and go on her merry way back to the market in which case Knight would kill him tonight. He asked her to bond with a wolf who caused famine and killed in the process. "He's a homicidal maniac."
"His control slipped and he's sick."
"What happens to the land if he dies?"
"Without offspring, the water takes the land. Cole is stable but no Prime has ever carried both land and water. When Arthur mates, he will honor you. Take him and you will have all you wish for, guaranteed comfort for the rest of your life."
"Honor me? You think I want to be honored? For life and love, I don't want to be honored and you don't know what he'll do. A bond with a mate is magic most sacred to crossbreeds. A bond is of love not duty or birth or foul convenience."
Knight fisted his hand on the table. "All power is given with dues, and those of us who carry it must accept and do our part for the people. Do what has to be done. Don't be selfish, it doesn't suit you."
Clementine was a fool thinking she used him for a little release and fun, but she hadn’t. He had an agenda while she agonized over how she could help, and he took what was freely given. "Last night you sampled the goods, made sure they worked."
Eyes on the clear blue water of the lake his hand fisted on his lap.
"Say something."
"I tried to tell you about the spirit, but you didn't listen. I saw disbelief in your eyes, the moment where you thought you could get away with scraps of what you can do for him, for me, for your sister. She will die, if not now, in the winter because she will go hungry. That's what you don't see but I do."
Clementine recognized a leader, a stranger, and one, who, as Arthur said, plowed through, imposed rules. "Your loyalty is admirable," she said. "The lengths to which you'll go for your friend, your clan, and people even more so. It's too bad, I find it hard to admire."
"Something has to give."
She took two steps as if to leave for her rooms then stopped. She should not engage the wolf. She shouldn't but she turned and said, "Is it because you could, hm? You woke up one cherry bright night and thought of a flower girl who will solve your problems and said she's easy pray, weak and pliable, I'll just pluck her from the market and make her do it. I don't have to tell her because I am Knight, the mighty.'"
"You offend me." He minded the lake. "I have one hundred and fifty seven submissive wolves and only eighteen dominant ones. If they were easy and weak the clan would be lost. Our animals don't define us, it's the choices we make at the times of crisis that do. I'm sorry, Clementine, but that's life."
"You’re not sorry. You could've told me all this at the market, so that I come prepared!"
In a blink, he stood before her. She took a step back and fisted her hands on her sides. She didn’t back down, held his eyes.
"You forget yourself. Last night when you spread your legs for me you didn't wonder about the consequences but I must consider everything I do. It is my job to worry, to fix, to make right. What's the difference? You are here and for a while I thought you a little liar. You’ve lied about the flowers, and I thought the innocence was pretentious. I’ve seen the lure before, I prime this land and girls do what they must to make good for themselves.”
“Oh, you pompous…pompous,” she searched her sister’s words, “dickhead.”
His jaw tightened. “I didn't know you were clueless about the spirit. Your Mother isn’t, though she denied its existence before a belief in her precious star."
"What?"
"Your father passed when you were born because he gave you his magic, his spirit. You were still born before a time, small, fragile girl, and he made you a spirit. A gift."
It couldn't be. Mother said Father died because he couldn't find peace with his bird, not because he gave away his bird.
Her dove peeped the truth.
Clementine hung her head and when she did, he brought it to his chest where his wolf lay silent and his heart beat steady. She bit her lip when the tears threatened and whispered, "The night we met, she knew why you were coming, set me up. Did she take dowry for me?"
"She did."
Tears spilled. Mother wasn't the best mother by any means, but selling family secrets and her own child bode low, even for her. Mother stuck her daughter inside the clan and raised her own status in the society. She was a good businesswoman indeed. “How much?”
“Does it matter?”
“How much?”
“Ten thousand coins.”
“A handsome offer.” Clementine pushed away from his chest. When her bottom lip quivered, she dropped her eyes to the deck. "I keep all the gifts people give me. In a chest, you see. I even have stickers from small school, because Seven stole coins from Mother and bought them for me. I didn't like the stickers, but I kept them. Gifts shouldn't be sold, sampled, or discarded. You should have asked me before."
“I followed your customs.”
“They are not my customs.”
He kissed the top of her hung hand. "I'm asking now."
Her hand itched to slap him. She wiped the nervous sweat from her palms on her thighs. When he lifted her chin with his fingertip and brought his lips to hers, she took a step back and swung.
An angry red handprint marred his tanned skin.
Knight didn't flinch.
"I hate you Knight Borski, you're a coward!"
FIFTEEN
Was spirit’s magic primal magic? Air, land, water, and fire were primal, so where did the balance fit? Knight didn’t say and folk didn’t know. Clementine's father passed away when she drew her first breath. She wished she knew him, wished to thank him for the gift. All her life she believed him weak and dishonorable for leaving his family, taking life into his own hands. If Mother was to be believed at all, he did fight with his bird, the restless spirit whose purpose was to balance. But, if the Primes were balanced during his lifetime what then? Maybe he couldn't find his own balance because he didn't tap into his magic, didn't make use of it. If she didn't use her spirit's magic what was her fate?
As she stood, dressed and packed, at the wide open doors of the hotel on water, she struggled to contain her dove that pushed for flight. Did she wish to find Arthur out there in his mad world and fix him? Magic like ants crawled under Clementine’s skin, her chest ready to burst. She wiped the stupid tears that wouldn't stop falling then placed her hand on her chest as if to hold her animal inside. "We'll get through this me and you, because I will not mate the wild wolf." The imager's knife in hand she hid it behind her back.
She descended the seven stairs and stood where Knight, just last night, waited for her to land on his hand. She rounded the entry and backed up against the sidewall then checked the sky and the grounds in a way she learned from mighty Knight himself. One fast sweep. Above, the star dimmed for the Night of the Wolf to fall over the lands. Not a hint of rampion, not a hint of destroyed lands. Arthur, even at his wildest, didn’t impose on the wealthy and strong. He still reasoned as a man.
Across the bridge, thirty wolves paced the garden. Staff and guests with healthy instincts sensed the danger and retreated inside once the wolves crossed
. They were menacing, three times as large as their animal counterparts. They paced and whined about the property. Grey, black, and white wolves snarled and snapped their teeth, the pelt on their backs upright. On her left, at the edge of the lake Knight talked with Cole. He patted her shoulder, turned, and lifted his fist. Wolves howled, ready to hunt.
A rumble sounded in the distance. The bridge shook on its stilts. Thirty wolves, two Primes and one spirit swung their eyes down the red meadow. Black, charred land, like lava, spread over the grass. Birds flew away, small animals sprung from their homes and ran, grass wilted, trees fell, dirt and mud rose, barricading the view.
"He's coming here," Cole said. "How dare he?" The water in the lake rippled, boats hit the stone edges as the ripples grew into waves.
"Don't try anything or I'll fucking kill you where you stand. He's mine," Knight said.
"He'll destroy my business."
"Wait."
The lake didn't calm, waves still splashed on the rocks and the patio, but it didn't rise either. Knight turned to Clementine, his brown hair whipping in the cold winds. "Everyone plays their part, you ready to play yours?"
Clementine straightened her spine and wiped her eyes with one hand.
A monster, an omen, appeared inside Cole's gardens. Around him, plants withered and died, trees bowed as if kneeling before their king. He was, in a way their king, he held the essence of their life in his hands. Clementine hated him for abusing his magic, blamed Knight and Arthur for placing her in this position, and blamed her self-involved Mother for selling her prophesies, selling Clementine's magic, but more than anything, she cried for the Nightlands. Other Primes would follow, and history would repeat. They were doomed. How could she walk away?
Her knees wobbled.
At her silence, in one blink, Knight crossed to grey wolf, the largest of the clan's wolves, the size of a horse with a black line of fur running along his jaw. Eyes bright with magic, he lowered his head, tucked his tail, and growled a warning deep in his chest.
Arthur approached and stopped before him.
"Greetings friends," Arthur said. Barefoot, he wore a black loincloth and a toothy smile.
"Get out of here." Cole stepped forward and unbuttoned her beige shirt, ready to join them.
"I think I'll stay."
Angry, snarling wolves surrounded them, their eyes lit the gardens with danger.
"I have guests and a reputation. I'll fill your lungs and drown you in my lake. Take your clan problems elsewhere. All of you."
The ground shook in a quake, land between the Primes split apart, walls behind Clementine's back creaked. She moved to the bridge when lake's water swirled.
The ground shook again. Arthur crouched and crossed.
A monster of a white wolf howled.
Grass lifted and like a blanket floated over the lake. It crashed on top of the water. Knight sprung for Arthur's throat. Wolves howled and circled the pair. Vibrations shook the bridge, and the hotel's stone structure spat rocks that rained on the gardens. Guests and staff screamed in the back.
Clementine crossed the bridge, and stopped. The pair of bloodied wolves ripped at each other, their snarls louder then the rocks that cracked about her. They didn't spare one another, both wild with bloodshed they ripped and chewed pelt and flesh off their bones.
Clementine, bewildered, couldn't move.
Until, Knight yelped. The meat of his left leg was ripped, his bone left exposed. He held back she realized, every now and then snapped his head her way, hoping she’d move in. She was distracting him. Could he lose this fight? Cold wind, like a bucket of freezing water poured over her head. If he lost, all would be lost. Behind her back, she cut her thumb. Warm blood tickled. On the handle of the knife she touched Imager's red jewel and closed her eyes, let her dove spread her wings.
The dove's eyes ignited into red coils, and magic, like pinpricks, traveled up Clementine’s arms, over her shoulders, up her neck and head then back down her body to close around her legs. Thunder sounded, rain poured, and Clementine crossed to spirit, absorbed the powerful magic of this night for the first time. The spirit connected to the band of snarling predators, felt their strength and anger. Batting her wings, she circled above the wolves. They couldn't see her, she flew under cover of an invisible illusion.
The ground around the pair of wolves cracked and split open, secluded the two from the other wolves. The clan howled at the star, cursed her light. Arthur sprung at Knight's throat. Knight, belly on the ground leapt up and bit. Blood bathed his face and splattered over the white wolf. They wrestled, his jaw clamped tight on Arthur's throat. He pinned him to the ground.
Arthur's throat in his jaws, he shook his head. More blood poured. Arthur's paws on Knight's chest, he tried to push him away but couldn't. Knight shook him again, and one of Arthur's legs dangled limp. His chest moved in shallow long breaths, and he struggled to cross, his wolf strong-minded. The image of a man and wolf interchanged as the mad mind steered a strong body and after a few moments, the broken leg replaced the wolf's limp one. A man's body appeared.
She zeroed in on her target and folded her wings then fell, head down towards Arthur's exposed chest.
The ground moved.
Their bodies shifted.
Wings spread wide she tried to break her flight. She screeched. No! Charged with magic, her left wing brushed Knight's right flank. He flew on top of the bridge and crashed. The dove landed on Arthur's chest. Bright white magic exploded under her feet, and a wave swept over the man.
Arthur gasped.
His wounded wolf snapped to attention, sneered at the cage of magic closing around him. Warm, yellow magic rushed out in defense. Then paused. Around the wolf, tentacles of yellow, like fingers, felt the white magic around it. The white let the yellow touch, brush against it on all sides. The yellow recognized, and then the white let the yellow guide it closer to the wolf. The magics intertwined like lovers and the yellow, once satisfied, bundled around the white, brought it over the wolf’s pelt and allowed it to touch its source. It welcomed the spirit.
White magic burst, pierced through the yellow, inverted and surrounded the wolf. The yellow magic, trapped, tried to break the white magic’s cage. It beat against the walls closing around it. The spirit-fused magic pulsed once, twice and crashed his magic back into him. The yellow magic didn’t reappear and as the white mist spread over the wolf’s pelt, enveloped the source, it closed him inside a cage.
The wolf fell to his side and closed his eyes.
The man’s eyes calmed, his muscles relaxed, he stilled, head rested to the side. His eyelids fluttered then closed.
The dove screeched in disapproval.
Clementine, in charge of both minds, spread her wings, hopped to the ground then wobbled on her feet, dizzy, stars blinking before her eyes. The pack of wolves gathered around them, but they couldn't see her, so their noses worked back and forth on the winds.
Taking flight, she circled the area. The holes in the ground gaped wide open. Dirt, trees, flowers, lake…unaffected. She didn't know what to expect when Arthur slept but not this. Not nothing. She flew back and landed on his chest again, wanted to assure herself. The dove’s magic sparkled around the wolf’s impenetrable cage. He was trapped, alive.
Knight and a nude wolf female knelt beside them. The female’s hands glowed with magic around Arthur's throat. The dove rose up and down on his chest.
"Peep!" she chipped trying to get Knight's attention and tell him where she stood. He sat back on his heels and extended his hand. Bruised, bloodied, and bitten, his eyes were wild with wolf when her claws closed around his finger.
"What’ve you done?" he said.
Clementine closed her eyes and pictured her human form to cross and lose the invisibility illusion. "Peep." She tried again. Okay, so she was worn out. She gathered the magic tightly around her, and closed her eyes again.
In the palm of his hand, the dove's spine bent and cracked. She screeched as the bone
s broke.
Knight placed the dove on the ground and petted her wings, his fear almost tangible. Wolves around them wined, sensing his unrest.
"I can’t see you,” he said, “What did you do? What's wrong?"
Her neck rested at an odd side angle, and she saw the moment the illusion broke when Knight jumped to his feet. "NO!"
He reached to pick up the dove.
Magic rippled, Clementine gasped a shallow breath when it pushed to the surface.
White mist exploded around her and much like Arthurs cage, enclosed the bird’s body.
Knight pounded his fist but couldn’t break through.
Grass prickled her cheeks.
The wolves gathered closer, nude males and females stared down at her, their mouths open. Head in his hands, Knight fell to his knees. Traces of magic spread about her, crept up their legs while Clementine's neck rearranged, and the bones of her spine from her neck down to her tailbone shifted. She couldn't even scream in pain, her throat didn't make sounds. She lied there on the ground as massive wings spurted out of her back.
Silence.
“Holy shit,” the clan’s healer whispered.
“Spirit,” Knight said. “In flesh.”
The wolves howled their victory over the star while Clementine’s wings closed about her, the feathers like a baby dove's, new and soft, tickled her face. Under their comfort she slept.
SIXTEEN
Six nights later, Clementine and Seven sat at the rectangular, wooden table in their kitchen. Clementine straddled the chair, and rested her forearms on the chair's backrest in front of her. She lifted her large wings as much as her sore back allowed and thumped her forehead on her arm. Her back felt like she pulled a carriage with a family of ten and their horses up to the highest mountain peak. She’d nursed her wounds these pasts six nights since the Night of the Wolf, much like the nature, under a Prime with a silent wolf, nursed hers. At least the nature knew whom to blame while Clementine struggled within herself thinking up the ways she could've avoided her current predicament.