Keeper of the Wolves

by Cheree Alsop

  He met my eyes again, a hint of humor in his pale gray gaze. He gave a short nod and left. I wondered why I had let him take the only weapon I had when I was in human form, but something in his eyes said he was a friend. For the first time, I put my human want to trust above my wolf instincts to defend myself. I was tired of being surrounded by enemies. I hoped I didn’t regret it.

  I eased gingerly to the ground. My chest and back ached and the dried blood that closed over the wounds cracked and bled with every motion. My left paw throbbed and bled. I licked it carefully, but I couldn’t get the glass out from the base of my pad. I worked at it with my teeth to no avail, then finally gave up and settled on my side. The chills that had begun the night before intensified. I focused on my surroundings in an effort to push the effects of the fever to the back of my mind.

  Fresh rays of early morning sunshine set the valley aglow in hues of rose and gold. The land of Rala whose forests my pack and I used to roam was surrounded by tall peaks that lost themselves in the clouds. The valley stretched long and wide, interspersed with rivers and smaller forests between the five duchies that made up Rala’s kingdom. The journey with the Cruel One’s circus had taken us north through the four lower duchies to the final city in the fifth duchy where I now resided.

  I sat in a garden at the back of a giant square structure made of bricks hewn from stone larger than my cage. A few faint stars showed through the last of the violet sky while sunflowers turned their faces toward the rising dawn. I wondered where my pack was and if they hunted through the forest beyond the northern wall. I longed to run beside them, free with only the forest loam underfoot and the endless stretch of trees and meadows ahead of us.

  Another shudder ran through my body and I closed my eyes at the pain. I wondered if it would be safer to take my pack away from the valley of Rala. When captured, I had been broken, mangled, and tormented, a mere shadow of the wolf I once was. I almost gave up then, but my pack and the determination of a wolf to survive pushed me to stay alive at the brink of death. I owed them everything and they continued to follow me as loyal as I had been to them. I didn’t know the price of my new fate. I wished I could tell my pack to leave me and live free.

  A sound caught my ear, breaking away my dark thoughts. I pushed up slowly and gritted my teeth at the pain. Footsteps walked up the garden path in my direction. A knot of uncertainty filled my chest. I hated the inability I had to defend myself inside the cage. I was helpless and trapped, able only to wait for the person to appear. My death or life fell to the whim of whoever held me captive.

  I let out a slow breath. I was ready for it all to be over one way or another.

  My breath caught when the morning light revealed the golden-haired girl from the room. Two other women followed her carrying a white cloth and a small container. Fear wafted from them. I bared my teeth and they stopped just inside the row of hedges that made up the back corner of the garden. The blue-eyed girl said something to the others, then she took the cloth and container before beckoning for them to leave. They looked like they wanted to protest, but a word of command from the girl sent them hurrying back down the garden path.

  She continued toward me slowly. There was something about her gaze that laid me bare and made me feel exposed and open as though she could read the battle of my thoughts. Human emotions warred with my wolven instincts and I could barely maintain control of my sanity. I was a wolf. I repeated the thought countless times in my mind, but the uncertainty that followed was human and foreign, creating doubt as much as confirming my fears.

  The girl knelt on the soft green grass outside the door to the cage. I couldn’t decide if I wanted her to open it or if I felt better with the bars to shield me from the understanding and compassion that shone in her eyes. Sorrow showed in the depths of her gaze. I don’t know how I recognized the emotions I barely understood, but something heartbreaking and lost hesitated beneath the surface of her sky blue eyes and resounded with the ache in my heart.

  The girl spoke softly and a spark showed in her eyes, a light of determination that chased the edge from my dark thoughts. She withdrew a key from the pocket of her long ivory coat lined with the fur of an animal whose smell I didn’t recognize but hinted of snow and iced streams. She slid the key into the lock and turned it. The latch rotated with a click that made my heart stutter.

  She pulled on the bars and the metal gave a small creak of protest. I couldn’t remember the last time the door had been opened. It swung halfway and then stuck. She frowned slightly and a tiny line formed between her eyebrows. The look made me want to smile, an absurd emotion for a wolf. My heart pounded with the combined emotions of fear at her proximity and elation at the expanse of open air beyond the cage door.

  She watched me with a look of trust that was the only thing that kept me from barreling her over and running so fast they would never catch me again. She backed slowly until the door was clear. I took a step forward. My heart thundered in my throat. Freedom lay beyond the door; a low hedge and an open stretch of grass was all that lay between me and the high castle wall. I could leap the wall; I knew that beyond a doubt.

  I put my weight on my injured paw and winced at the pain, but it didn’t matter. All that matter was the open cage door. I took another step, then another. I kept telling myself it wasn’t a trick. It took all my pent-up bravado to pretend like the girl’s proximity didn’t bother me as I stepped through the door onto the cool grass. The green strands sunk deep under my paws, a thicket of luxury I had long ago imagined lost in my life.

  Then I was out of the cage and beneath the vast morning-hued sky. It felt as if everything in the world waited with an abated breath. My muscles tensed and I felt the brush of a breeze through my thick fur, beckoning me to run, promising dense evergreens and sunlit valleys. A bird called with the rising scales of the wisporill. A red and green striped jacklis buzzed from a nearby rose as it got an early start on the day’s gathering. Nearer the wall, a rabbit thumped a foot, warning its kin of danger nearby. The sound sent a rush of adrenaline though my body.

  I ran as I had longed to do every day since I fell for the trap. My paw throbbed but I barely felt the pain through the rush of clarity that filled my body. I could leap the wall and be long gone from humans forever. I would run with the pack, hunt game, chase squirrels, defend our territory, and never think back to the lash of the whip and cruel eyes alive with laughter at my pain.

  But other eyes held my thoughts, blue eyes filled with the same despair that burned in my heart. A touch of meadow gold followed me, the sorrow that lingered in her scent a torment to my senses. Despite every instinct that screamed for me to leap the wall and put that life far behind me, my steps slowed.

  I pushed myself further, limping pitifully and bleeding. The will to leave combated with an intense pull to stay if only for a moment. I turned slowly, confusion fogging my thoughts. It didn’t make sense to stay. Running was the only way to leave the past behind, to leave being human behind.

  But I would still be human at the call of the moon.

  My eyes lifted to the girl in the white coat standing at the edge of the garden. A white cloth trailed from one of her hands and danced in the morning breeze. She didn’t beckon or speak; she waited to see what I would do. I took a step toward her, then another. I didn’t run. Nothing could make me run toward the cage or the thousands of humans who lived in the brick building and beyond, but my pace was steady.

  I grew close enough to see that her brows were drawn together as though she couldn’t make sense of my actions. That made two of us. I stopped within a few paces of her and sat on the ground. My limbs shook, heavy with fatigue from the fever that raged through my body. I held my paw up and heard the patter of blood that fell from the stressed wound. I wanted to lie down, but my instincts kept me alert despite the weariness.

  She watched me, the tiniest shadow of a smile hinting around her mouth. My eyes flickered from her to the cage. Her lips pursed slightly and a look of unders
tanding crossed her face. She pushed the cage door closed and when the metal bars touched, she turned the key and then withdrew it, locking it shut.

  She hesitated, then sat on the ground, her motions slow and steady so as to avoid startling me. She dug into the grass, pulling up dirt in a hand that looked as though it had never been dirty. Reluctant curiosity filled me as I watched her dig deeper until she had a hole that met her needs. She put the key in the bottom and began to pile the dirt on top. Emotions ran through my body at the gesture. That key symbolized my captivity, my fear, and the inability to live my life. By the time she patted down the last of the dirt and settled the patch of grass on top, it was hard to tell where the key had been buried. A heavy weight lifted from my shoulders and I let out a slow breath.

  She cleaned her hands on the grass, then held one out for me in the same gesture as when I had been human and her hand slipped between the bars of the cage. A shudder ran down my spine and I couldn’t bring myself to move. I had to muster every ounce of self-control to stay still when she scooted slowly closer without regard to the grass that stained her coat and dress. She held out her hand again, inches from my chest. I set my paw in it hesitantly.

  Relief lit her gaze, telling me how much courage it had taken for her to approach me. Those who could help her were far beyond the range of assistance; I could snap her neck with a single bite and be gone before anyone was the wiser. The fact that I held some control over the situation calmed the tension in my muscles and I watched her carefully take my paw and inspect the damage.

  Her tongue clicked lightly against her teeth and she shook her head. She glanced up at me and spoke, her words gentle. I watched her lips as she talked and wished I could understand what she was saying. For the first time, speaking felt important and real, as if my decision to stay heralded some new direction and I needed to understand to follow it. She dipped her head again and gently pulled at the shard of glass that stuck out from the deepest laceration. She worked it slowly from the pad of flesh and almost had it free when a shout startled both of us.

  It was only with complete consciousness over my actions that I was able to hold perfectly still instead of lashing out to defend myself as my instincts demanded. The girl’s hand jerked when she jumped in surprise and she let out a yelp as the glass sliced her finger. She turned and glared at a man in a black jerkin with a red cravat and a tattoo of a red horse hoof on his cheek. He spoke quickly and gestured toward me. I lifted my lips at his tone and showed him my teeth. The girl shook her head and spoke several sharp words. He closed his mouth and gave a short nod with a hand on his heart, then left the garden.

  She glanced back at me and I studied her, amazed that she commanded so much respect the other humans obeyed without argument. She let out a light laugh at my look and the sound fell merrily around me like raindrops in the spring. She glanced at her finger where a thin line of red showed from the glass. Whispering something that sounded unfeminine, she proceeded to pull the shard of glass from my paw despite her own bleeding finger.

  I was about to pull my paw away when her blood mixed with mine. Something strange ran beneath my skin and I held completely still. It felt as though the static that built during a lightning storm darted through every vein in my body at the same time. My heart stuttered, then gave a beat so strong it echoed in my ears. A metallic taste filled my mouth and I blinked away dark spots that danced in my vision.

  “Are you alright?”

  My ear turned to catch her voice even as my brain registered her words. Her speech, soft and filled with concern, suddenly made sense. I looked at her, waiting for her to say something else, but she turned her attention back to the shard of glass. She held it up to the brightening sunlight and shook her head.

  “You’ve caused a lot of trouble.”

  I tipped my head slightly with the strange feeling that she meant me instead of the glass. My heart gave a dull throb at the thought that I had caused her trouble. At the same time, a surge of relief filled me that I understood her. I watched as she dug up another small patch of dirt and put the glass in the hole, then patted it back down. She had a strange way of burying what troubled her.

  Unaware of my thoughts, she opened the small container the other women had brought. The vial released a scent of crushed evergreen needles, lavender, rose, aloe, and several other plants I didn’t recognize. She took my paw again and spread the ointment over the wound. It burned slightly and the scent tickled my nose. I sneezed and she glanced at me.

  “You’re not so tough,” she said with a teasing look that sent a rush of warmth through my body. She put the lid back on the ointment, then took my paw again and wrapped it carefully with the white cloth. She put a second cloth on top and tied it securely.

  “I guess that’ll work for as long as you leave it on,” she said with doubt heavy in her voice. A look of uncertainty crossed her face and she touched the wound down my chest. I shied at the feeling of her fingers on my fur. She paused and looked at me, her face close to mine. “Sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She looked at the two strips of cloth that remained, then back at the wound. “I don’t really know what to do about that.”

  She opened the container of ointment. “Maybe this will have to do.” She scooped some up with her finger and spread it gently down my chest. She paused when she neared the bottom of my ribcage and a slight touch of red colored her cheeks. “I don’t suppose you find this too forward?” she asked mostly to herself. “I can imagine Joven’s dismay if he found out, even if you are a wolf.” She put a hand on my shoulder, surprising me with her familiarity. “Would you mind lying down? I could reach your back better.”

  It was a feat to push down my instincts enough to do as she asked, but when I settled down in the grass, it was her silence that caught my attention. I glanced up and found that her face had gone pale and a scent of shock wafted from her. I looked around quickly for what had triggered her reaction, but couldn’t see anything. When I met her eyes again, tears made them shine brightly. Trepidation rose in my chest. I pushed up to a sitting position and watched her warily, unsure what to do.

  “You can understand me,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. She glanced at the cage, then back at me. “You’ve been stuck in there all this time able to think and feel like we do?” The thought made her tears spill over. “How could someone do that to you?”

  The same question had resonated over and over in my mind so many times in the first few weeks of my captivity. I was beaten and tormented with no explanation as to why. I closed my eyes briefly at the memory of hopeless frustration, and when I opened them again she was wiping the tears from her cheeks. She gave a watery smile. “You must think I’m ridiculous,” she said with a small, self-deprecating laugh.

  I gave a soft snort and her smile touched her eyes, casting her face in a beautiful glow that made my heart stutter. The golden rays lit the roses behind her in shades of crimson and ruby and tangled in her hair as though the sunlight came from inside of her instead of without. I had never seen anything so lovely. I committed the picture to memory. If life took a turn for the worst, at least I would have the image to warm me. I grimaced at the most human thought I’d had so far.

  “Are you alright?” she asked. “Do you hurt?”

  I didn’t know how to respond. The wounds were minor compared to others I had experienced. The consideration she gave made my heartache far worse.

  She held the ointment up and looked at me expectantly. “Can I?”

  I hesitated, uncertain it was a good idea, but I gave in and slowly settled down again. She smoothed the salve along my back and I knew it wasn’t my imagination that her touch was even softer than before. A tingle ran down my spine. “They got you good, whoever it was,” she said quietly. “Your back and chest should heal, but I’m worried about your hand, or paw, or whichever you call it.” Her voice lowered. “People who do this to others should be thrown in a dungeon somewhere and left for the rats.”
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  Surprised at the vehemence of her words, I glanced at her. She met my eyes and a very becoming blush ran across her cheeks. “A lady shouldn’t say such things, and neither would a duchess.” She shook her head and regret showed in her eyes. “Maybe someday I can convince Joven I’m neither.”

  Questions rose in my mind. The want to ask questions and have them answered was unfamiliar. Wolves accepted their lot in life and lived in the best way their situation allowed. It was hard to control the human emotions; they were even more confusing when I was in wolf form. Unable to ask questions I shouldn’t have made the situation uncomfortable and frustrating.

  She finished the last of the salve a few minutes later and rocked back on her heels to give her handiwork a critical look over. She didn’t seem to mind that she stood on the hem of her dress and that the knees of the dress were stained and dirty from the grass. She nodded with a small sigh. “I guess that’ll have to do. I don’t suppose I could convince you to let the castle healer take care of it?” At my straight look, a slight smile touched the corners of her lips. “I suppose not. Can’t say I blame you. Strangers haven’t been too kind up to now it seems.”

  A chill ran through my body and I tried to ignore it, but her eyes were quick to take in the slight wince that followed. “You’re coming with me to the castle.”

  The command in her tone brought my head around. I sat up and watched her, wondering why on earth she would want me inside that brick structure again.

  “You’re not going to stay out here with a fever. You’ll sleep by a fire where the warmth can chase the chills away.”