Jack laughed. "You ever heard of Finn Mac Cool? He's our most famous Fianna of old. Once, to get wisdom, he caught this magic salmon. To make a long story short, the eating of it gave him the smarts, but he had to suck his thumb for it — the thumb where the juices of the cooking fish had burned him. Well, I found just such a fish myself, and went through the same experience. Now," he said, holding up his right thumb. "When I sucks on this weasel here, I get the smarts, just like ol' Finn."
"He's just saying that," Ivar said. Jack looked up at him, annoyed. "He didn't eat any magic fish. He's as dumb as ever when he sucks his thumb. He just wants you to think otherwise."
"Uh… don't listen to Ivar," Jack said. "He's got a cracked sense of humor. Hey! Why don't we take you to the camp and introduce you to the rest of our bunch?"
Albrecht and Evan nodded, and they followed Jack and his friends to the campfire. There was a man sitting with a guitar, smiling at them as they came up. He looked to be Indian, from the subcontinent, rather than a native to America like the woman next to him. She was dressed in a buckskin vest and blue jeans and had long black hair falling down her back and shoulders. Albrecht stared, surprised: He knew her. She stared back, enigmatically and with faint embarrassment.
"Greetings," the man with the guitar said. "And who are our travelers?"
"This here," Jack said, "is Lord Albrecht, from Central Park. Surely you've heard of him."
"Most certainly," the man said. "It is a pleasure to meet the mighty Wyrm-slayer."
"Thanks," Albrecht said.
"And this," Jack said, "is Evan Heals-the-Past. You remember about him? The boy from the Amazon who was the talk of the jungle for that one week when we had R & R?"
"Ah, yes," the man said. "The one with the Nexus Crawler problem. I am glad you resolved that issue and are here to visit with us today."
"Thanks," Evan said. "It's really nice of you to say so."
"This fella," Jack said, pointing at the man, "is Pramati, our songster and Stargazer. Weird combo, huh? It makes for some thought-provoking fireside sing-alongs."
Pramati bowed and smiled.
"And last, but certainly not least among us," Jack said, pointing at the woman, "is Mary Black Fox."
"We've met before," Albrecht said, meeting her eyes and smiling. "But I didn't know you were Garou. What tribe are you?"
She seemed uncomfortable and looked at Jack, who glanced at Ivar, eyebrows raised, as if they were sharing a private joke.
"I'm Cherokee, actually," she said.
"I meant—" Albrecht said.
"She's not a Garou, lad," Jack said. "She's a witch. At least that's what her people call her. She's more properly a Dreamspeaker."
Albrecht's eyes widened. "A mage? Really? You didn't tell me that before either. I haven't met too many of your kind."
"I… wasn't a mage then," she said. "My Awakening was yet to come. And you're lucky you haven't met many of 'my kind.' They don't like Garou. My Tradition excepted, of course. The Dreamspeakers are the only ones among our order to understand what you guys are all about."
"I've heard of Dreamspeakers," Evan said. "You're shamans, right?"
"I suppose that's the best way to describe us," she said. "We're not like the hermetic mages; or the scientific ones for that matter."
Evan nodded. Albrecht smiled at her again. She looked away.
"Well, why don't you fellas find a spot and have a sit?" Jack said, sitting down himself and eyeing Mary with a smirk. "We've got vittles here, if you're hungry. Since you don't have any provisions on you, I assume you're on hard times. So sit down, eat up and tell us about yourselves."
Albrecht and Evan gratefully sat down and ate. The meal was rich beef vegetable stew from a pot over the fire. Albrecht wondered where they had gotten the ingredients for this out in the Umbra, but didn't care enough to ask. He was too busy eating.
After they finished, Jack pulled some bottles of Guinness from a cooler behind him and offered them. They had both gratefully taken the beers and drunk when Albrecht stopped and looked at Evan.
"Hey!" he said. "Should you be drinking yet?"
"Legally?" Evan said. "No. But just try and take it from me." He took a long chug, and Jack rolled over laughing.
"The kid's gonna turn out all right," he said. "Don't worry about him. Nothing wrong with a little sip now and again."
Albrecht shrugged and drank his beer. Ivar and Parts-the-Water did not sit down, but instead stood at the edge of their circle, watching for possible danger. They listened in, however.
"So what do you call yourselves?" Albrecht asked.
"We're the Screamin' Trailblazers," Jack said. "Or that's what they called us down in the jungle, anyway. We've been thinking about shortening it to just Trailblazers.' What do you think?"
"I like them both," Albrecht said.
"Well, that's no help," Jack said, leaning back against his bed roll. "All right, lads, so what are you doing way out in the middle of nowhere?"
Evan looked at Albrecht. Albrecht sighed. "You deserve to know, although I really need to ask what you guys are doing here first."
Jack frowned. "It's bit rude, since we asked first... But you're well spoken of in Central Park, so I'll trust you have your reasons for asking."
"We're after the skin of the Wyrm."
Albrecht blinked. "The what? The skin?"
"That's right. The skin of the Wyrm. You see, we heard this story down in the Amazon from an elder who was dying. He had this nice tidbit of knowledge he wanted to hand on before meeting his maker. So he handed it to us. You see, it seems that the Wyrm, being a giant snake and all, used to shed its skin regularly, back when everything was in balance: As a matter of fact, it was this shedding of the skin that helped keep the balance. Well, things got all screwed up, for whatever reason — we all know that's a matter of debate among the tribes. Well, one of the reasons things went wrong is that the Wyrm quit shedding its skin."
Evan nodded. "So the cycles were broken. It refused to grow and die and grow again, like everything is supposed to."
Jack sat up. "That's right. It hasn't shed its skin in ages, you see. So it's getting awful itchy and scummy, uncomfortable-like. That's one reason why the Wyrm is so pissy. It's wearing a damn uncomfortable skin."
"If that's the case," Albrecht said, "then why do you want to find it? It seems to me that, if you find the skin, you find the Wyrm."
"Yeah, but we're not looking for its current skin. We're looking for the old skin, the last one it shed. We figure like this elder in the jungle did, that if we can find it — somehow, someway — we can convince the Wyrm to shed its current skin. And if that happens, things might go all right."
Albrecht nodded. "That's quite a quest. Sounds like a wild goose chase; but if it's true and you do get the skin, it could mean a lot."
"That's exactly what we say!" Jack said.
"So, you got any leads?" Albrecht said.
"Yes," Pramati said. "There are many tales that speak of this skin. The trick is to find it. We have… some ideas."
"But you can understand us wanting to keep them secret," Jack said.
"Yeah," Albrecht said. "No problem. It's your quest."
"And what's yours?" Jack said.
"We're looking for the Silver Crown."
Jack looked confused, but Pramati whistled.
"That is a real quest," he said. "But I do not understand. Is not the crown hidden by the Silver Fangs?"
Albrecht looked down. "Uh… no. That's just a rumor. A false one."
Jack and Pramati exchanged glances.
"That's big news, you know," Jack said. "There are a lot of folks who'd be looking for it if that word got out."
"I know," Albrecht said. "I'm just going to have to trust you, with your honor badges and all, not to tell anyone."
Jack was silent for a while, looking at Albrecht. "Ah, you're a wise one. You know just where to push the buttons. I respect honor and all, and since you called me on it, I
'll take up your challenge. Mum's the word, lad. At least from me and my pack. But I'll have to ask you to do the same about our quest."
"Done," Albrecht said.
Jack sat back again, smiling. "So, you got any leads on it?"
"We were just in Pangaea," Evan said. "But we got chased out before we could really look."
"Pangaea?" Jack said. "Beautiful place! But damn dangerous. Things are primal there. So, just what chased you out? A T-rex? A smilodon?"
"Black Spiral Dancers," Albrecht said. "My… cousin… doesn't want me to get the crown. He's guaranteed to be king of the North Country Protectorate otherwise."
"I don't get it," Jack said. "What's a Silver Fang king got to do with Black Spiral Dancers?"
"He's working with them. He used them to murder King Morningkill."
"Morningkill's dead?" Jack exclaimed, looking at the rest of his pack. They all looked surprised and dismayed. "We've been in here too long. When did this happen?"
Albrecht thought for a minute. "Nine days?"
"Ah… that recent then? I'm sorry. My condolences. You are his grandkid, aren't you? That's what they say."
"Yeah. I am. Thanks."
"So who is this rat bastard who's taking over for him?"
"His name's Arkady."
"Huh. I'll have to remember that. You realize, of course, that I can't just sit on this piece of information. I gotta warn others."
"I know. Just don't talk about the crown. I don't mind — hell, I want — others knowing about Arkady."
"I get it now. You're after the crown 'cause it's the only way you can dethrone him."
"Yep."
"Well, you didn't tell us we were supping with the king-to-be! Not every day we get to hang with royalty."
Albrecht smiled but looked down. "That's assuming the crown… well, accepts me."
Jack nodded and sat back, thinking.
"Look," Evan said. "We've lost one of our packmates. Mari Cabrah. She was in Pangaea, being chased by Black Spirals."
Pramati shook his head, putting his guitar down, and said, "Why did you not say so before? We can help with that." He began searching in his bag for something.
Jack looked worried. "Hey, Pram, I don't think we should..."
"Nonsense," Pramati said. "We are with the potential king of the North Country Protectorate. Of course we can share our fetishes."
Jack looked at Evan, embarrassed. "Sorry, mate. It's just that… well, when people find out you've got neat stuff, they want to take it."
Evan nodded. "I understand."
Pramati pulled a box out. He smiled at them all and opened it. Inside was a leaf. A simple green leaf.
"What is it?" Albrecht said, leaning forward. "A leaf?"
"Yes," Pramati said. "But not just any leaf. It is a leaf from the One Tree. The first tree to grow in the world at the Dawn. It is Gaia's leaf. We were all born under its boughs. It is our center, our axis mundi. The tree ever calls to us."
"What does it do?" Evan asked.
Pramati took the leaf out carefully and handed it to Evan. Evan took it, holding it as if it were precious gold.
"Hold it in your palm. Go, stand away from the fire. Think of the loved one you have lost who is in the spirit world. Call out to her. Open your spirit in the calling, remember the tree. If you can do this, your friend will hear you and, if she chooses, will come to you. Distance does not matter, for the tree is always there, everywhere. It is the center. We all stand under it, even though we cannot see it."
Evan stood up and went a few yards from the fire. He looked at the leaf and thought of Mari. He thought of how she could be wounded somewhere, dying alone. He thought she might be dead already, but then stopped himself. No, he thought, I won't accept that. She is alive. She is under the tree with us. She is here.
"Mari!" he cried. "Where are you?"
He felt the leaf move gently in his hand, as if stirred by a breeze. He called her name again, with all his heart. And he looked up. Above him, towering and huge, was a tree, climbing to the heavens. On each branch were thousands of leaves, but they were all different — leaves from a million different trees on one tree. He saw a squirrel crawl down the trunk to look at him. Its nose quivered.
He heard a groan at his feet and looked down. Mari was there, lying among the roots of the tree.
"Mari! You're here!"
She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Evan? Are you dead, too?"
"You're not dead, Mari! Just far away. Take my hand, come to where we are!" He held his hand out to her. She reached out and took it. The tree disappeared, and Mari was lying on the ground next to Evan, the light of the campfire dancing across her.
"It worked!" Evan yelled.
Albrecht got up and ran over. Bending down next to Mari, he examined her. "What happened? You're pretty beat up."
She looked at him as if she couldn't believe he was there. "Albrecht? What…?"
Jack came over. "Hello, miss. Don't worry, we'll fix you up." He waved Mary over. She got up and came to examine Mari.
"I'm going to heal you," she said. "This won't hurt a bit." She put her hands on Mart's wounds and concentrated. The wounds began to heal themselves, as if time were accelerated around them. In seconds, they were fully cured.
Mari looked at her, confused. "Thank you. I… I am surprised to be here."
Evan helped her stand up. "Come on, we'll go to the fire. You can tell us what happened."
Albrecht stepped in and helped support her on the other side. As they walked, she seemed to find her strength, and eventually shook them off. Standing on her own, she went to the fire and sat down.
Albrecht and Evan sat themselves on either side of her, looking concerned.
"You want to talk?" Albrecht said.
"I… I remember now," she said. "I was in Atrocity."
Jack grimaced. Pramati looked very concerned. Mary put her hand on Mari's, but Mari shook her head and withdrew her hand.
"I'm all right. It was just rough, that's all. I had forgotten that the only way out of Atrocity is to die to it."
"So the legends say," Pramati said. "I have never been there myself, thankfully. It must have been hard. They say that shadows of every crime ever committed live there."
"They don't feel like shadows," Mari said. "They come off like flesh and blood. The place gets you in its grip, forces you to become an actor in its play. You can't do anything about it."
"So what happened to you there?" Evan said.
"I'd rather not talk about it. It's personal."
Evan nodded.
"Well, it's over now," Jack said. "You should have some of this stew. Strengthen you up."
Mari looked at him. "Excuse me, but who are you?"
Jack laughed. "Friends of your friends here. We'll catch up as you eat."
Pramati handed Mari a bowl of stew and she ate. She was hungrier than she could ever remember being in her life. As she ate, the other pack introduced themselves to her, and explained their quest.
When she was done, Jack told them they could sleep for a few hours, until the next night, when they would break camp and move on. Albrecht volunteered to keep watch, but Jack wouldn't have any of it.
"We've just been walking for days, lad — no real action for us. We're pretty well rested up. It's you who need sleep. So get some shut-eye. We'll wake you before leaving."
"Thanks," Albrecht said. "I owe you."
"And you better believe that, if you get that crown of yours and become king, I'll be calling the favor in."
Albrecht laughed. "All right. I'll be expecting you." He lay back on the blanket Pramati had put out for them. Mari was already asleep. That's not like her, Albrecht thought. She's usually one to prowl about for danger first. Ah, she's just tired.
Evan was soon snoring. Albrecht rolled over again. He had a feeling that they had better catch as much sleep as they could; they might not get another chance for a long time.
Chapter Fourteen
Alb
recht woke in pitch blackness. He sat up and looked around. The fire was still burning, but very low now. Ivar sat between it and him, blocking most of the light. The moon was gone. It was day in the physical world, but night in the spirit world.
He stood up, stretching as he walked over to the fire. Ivar was eating the leftovers from the stew pot and nodded a greeting at Albrecht, but kept on chewing. Parts-the-Water was curled up on a blanket, fast asleep, and Jack was snoring nearby. Albrecht looked around and saw Pramati sitting a way off, watching the dark landscape around them. Mary was on the other side of the camp, also watching outward.
Albrecht walked over to her. She looked up at him nervously as he sat down beside her.
"What's going on?" Albrecht said. "You act like you don't know me. Was I such a jerk?"
"Look," Mary said. "You were a short fling. That's all."
Albrecht furrowed his brow. "I didn't have to be, you know."
"I'm… not comfortable seeing you. I've changed a lot since then. I'm a mage now. I've found an identity."
"An identity? And you didn't have one before?"
She turned and looked at him, bewildered at his ignorance. "No. I didn't. I thought that was obvious. I was a girl who'd run to the big city to see what life was like off the rez. I met those Garou friends of yours and became fascinated with them. I thought they were just urban primitives, and you were the coolest of the bunch. Of course I was attracted to you. But was I really anything more than a fling to you? When I found out about the Garou later, and that you were one of them, I knew long-term relationships weren't your style. They're not mine, either."
Albrecht looked off into the darkness. "Huh. That's quite a mouthful. All right, it was just a fling. But you're a mage now, a mover and shaker in the supernatural world. Hell, in my book, that means it would've worked out well for both of us. Me being Garou wouldn't have mattered that much."
Mary shook her head, smiling now, as if Albrecht were a child who had inadvertently said something funny. "You are a Silver Fang, Albrecht. I've talked with Pramati. I know about your Kinfolk. I'm not the breeding type. I don't want children."
"So? Who said anything about kids?"
"You are a Garou. You've got to spread your seed. Otherwise your race dies. I know that. I accept that. But I don't want a relationship with it."
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