Keeper of the Wolves

by Cheree Alsop

  The pain and regret in her voice grabbed at my heart with the strength of a bear. I swallowed down a lump that rose in my throat and took a step forward. Tears spilled down her cheeks despite her efforts to avoid them. Her hands trembled and she clenched them in front of her as her eyes lost their focus. Instead of the fading moonlight and fire-warmed furniture, I knew she saw the hollows where the Viel’s eyes should have been and felt the blade of the assassin’s knife across her throat. I had never seen anyone stand silent in sorrow and fear before. She held it in with a strength that dwarfed any courage I had shown.

  I took another step and closed the space between us. My hand rose of its own accord to her cheek and she turned to look at me, surprise in her sad blue eyes. Her skin was so soft under my fingers, and when she closed her eyes and tipped her face into my palm, my heart turned sideways in my chest. I opened my mouth to speak her name, but a tremor ran through my limbs. I backed away, wishing for the first time in my life to remain human instead of returning to my wolven body; and for the first time, I felt my body hesitate.

  There was no fighting the change. When I did fight, it brought only futile pain; but I felt the hesitation, a brief pause as though my body debated whether to comply with the will of the moon or my own wishes. My breath caught, then my limbs pulled and I shrugged out of the shirt in time to be brought to the floor as my joints shifted and body changed from the long lithe form of a human to the compact strength of the wolf.

  Brown, gray, and black fur ran up my legs and down my back to fight away the chill of the change. My vision strengthened and the colors faded so that the blacks and grays stood out in sharper contrast against the candlelit room. My ears picked up the sounds of servants starting preparations for breakfast even though the sun had not yet begun to rise. My nose told of a tiny cricket living between the cracks in the wall and of the valley where the raspberries grew that filled the pastries on the table. My brain took all of these notes in an instant, filing them away in case I needed them in the future. The wolven side of me relished the strength that filled my limbs while the human side yearned after something I was on the verge of forgetting.

  I looked back at Koya. She watched me from the doorway to her room with something I didn’t recognize in her eyes. I thought for a moment I saw want in them as though she wished she could change into an animal and hide from her human problems if only for a little while. I wished I could tell her it didn’t work that way. The human problems stayed even though I was unable to confront them.

  “You can sleep where you would like,” she said. A slight touch of pink brushed her cheeks at the thought of me sleeping in her rooms even in my wolf form. She hesitated, then turned away and stepped into the bedchamber.

  I knew from my brief surveillance that a massive oak four-poster bed took up the middle of the room and was hung with rose red silk and cream colored drapes. Dried flowers and fresh roses gave her room the soft fragrance of spring and new growth rich with sunshine. Her windows were open as though she enjoyed the breeze that toyed through the curtains. It would have been a potential entrance for assassins, but we were on the third floor and the second contained a parapet occupied by Ramus’ double guard. They walked below and though the sound might be troublesome to sleep to, it no doubt brought peace of mind to Koya and her brother.

  I couldn’t get comfortable despite the luxurious carpets and banked fire. Whenever I settled down, thoughts of the assassin and the way my blood thundered through my veins as I chased him brought me back to my feet. I paced the floor, my paws soundless and steady. Exhaustion warred through my limbs, but my mind refused to succumb to the peace of sleep. The howls of the pack echoed in my mind and I debated whether I had made the right choice in returning to the castle. I was a wolf trapped in the body of a human long enough to cause trouble but not long enough that I could get settled into the customs and speech. I wondered if I would always be on the edge, not quite in one world or the other, an outcast in my mind as well as body.

  A soft mutter came from Koya’s room. I paused and glanced over my shoulder at the partially-open door, wondering if I should check on her, then a shriek sounded that set my heart racing. I tore across the room and paused at the door only long enough to see Koya sitting up in the middle of her bed, tears trailing down her cheeks and sobs shaking her shoulders despite her efforts to keep them in.

  My heart turned over at the look of fear on her face. I wanted to help her; the wolf side of me shied at being so close and personal with a human while the human side grating against the limitations of my wolf form. She met my eyes, her own the color of the sky after a fierce rain, deep and heavy with torment and promise. I leaped silently onto the bed. She buried her face in my fur without a word. Her hands tangled in my coat and her breaths came ragged and quick as she fought to control her emotions.

  “Why are nightmares worse than the real thing?” she asked, her words muffled and thick. “He killed me this time, and I watched my body fall to the ground. It didn’t hurt, but I knew it should.” She pressed her face harder against my side and let herself cry for a few minutes.

  When her shoulders stopped shaking and the trembling in her hands stilled, she sat back and wiped her face with the long sleeve of her light blue sleeping gown. “You must think I’m ridiculous,” she said quietly. Her eyes were lowered and she twisted a loose string from her sleeping gown around her finger.

  I gave a soft snort and a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. She glanced up at me, then looked away. Her eyes roamed the room as if she was searching the shadows for assassins or Viel. I wanted to reassure her that nothing could creep into her quarters without my knowledge, but her face was still pale and she continued to wind and unwind the thread around her fingers as if she needed to do something to keep her mind occupied. The skin beneath her eyes was dark and if anything she looked even wearier for her brief sleep.

  “It is ridiculous,” she concluded quietly to herself. She looked at me again. A small laugh escaped her lips. “I can’t begin to tell you how far across the line of propriety it is to have a man I don’t know sitting on my bed in the middle of the night, even if you are in your wolf form right now. Mother would have a conniption if she knew.” She stifled a yawn, then glanced at her pillows. A lost look swept across her face. Her voice softened and she spoke with her gaze still downcast. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to sleep again.”

  I thought of the whirlwind of memories from the past few days that kept me up and knew exactly how she felt. I looked around the room in search of an answer; the flickering candlelight made the bunched drapes around the bed look as though they danced. The faint hint of rising sunlight showed through the windows as the briefest touch of gray amid the dark sky.

  “Would you stay here for a little while?” Koya asked in a voice so small I barely heard it. I turned back and found her watching me with pleading eyes. “Just until I’m asleep? I don’t want to be a bother.”

  I had heard Joven scoff before, a faint laughing sound with a hint of derision. I imagined that was the sound he would have given at his sister calling herself a bother. To me, though, the pain in her voice was too real. She wasn’t just worried about this night, but a lifetime of uncertainties brought by their inability to maintain their kingdom. Joven’s words about her being wed played in the back of my mind. Wolves chose a mate for life. I couldn’t imagine being assigned to a stranger for the same lifetime. I wondered if the assassin’s attack or the thought of marriage weighed more heavily in her mind.

  I settled on the bed near the edge, keeping plenty of room for Koya while at the same time ready to jump off if I needed to defend her. I watched her out of the corner of my eye as she hesitated, then laid down next to me. Her hand hovered above my fur for several heartbeats. She let out a small breath and set it on my back. A tingle ran down my spine at her touch.

  It was several minutes before she closed her eyes, and longer still until her steady breathing announced that she was asleep.
During that time, I barely dared breathe lest I disturb her. I felt her fingertips move in sleep and every movement sent another tingle through my skin. I wondered that her touch could awaken every bit of me; where I had been exhausted before, now with her hand on my back and her quiet breaths near my ear I felt alive and aware as I had never been.

  Every part of me burned with a desire to keep her safe and protected from a world that seemed destined to hurt her. I saw her eyes again, wide with fear as the knife cut into her skin. The assassin’s gaze was narrow with anger and his hand gripped the knife hilt so tight his knuckles turned white. He didn’t care if he hurt her; in fact, he seemed pleased by his ability to do so.

  His similarities to the Cruel One sent a surge of rage through my body. That was what drove me to tackle him from the horse; a man who could hurt a woman so easily didn’t deserve to live. Wolves didn’t take pleasure in harming each other. A wolf’s life was spent protecting and caring for loved ones. I couldn’t understand someone who could hurt so readily and take joy in it.

  I felt my paws hit the cobblestones as I chased him. The wind tangled through my fur and filled my nose with the scent of horse sweat and the man’s twisted glee at causing pain and an uproar. There was no doubt why he was chosen for the job; I only hoped Rasmus saw to it that such a person was put where he couldn’t harm anyone ever again.

  I closed my eyes and my shoulders twitched as I jumped the last bush again and barreled into the man. The horse fell with us and we hit the stones hard enough to knock the wind from my lungs. I grabbed the man in my teeth and bit down. I wanted to end his life for the fear he created in Koya. I tasted his blood. He deserved to die as no animal I had chased deserved death. I bit down harder.

  “Your heart is racing.”

  Koya’s gentle voice brought me back to the present with a jolt. I turned my head and stared at her. I felt her hand on my side above my pounding heart. I wanted to tell her I would kill the man for her so she wouldn’t be afraid anymore, but I didn’t know if that was something that would bring her comfort or more pain. I took a calming breath and willed my heart to slow.

  “I guess I’m not the only one with nightmares,” she said with a smile that made slowing my heart that much harder. She moved a bit closer so that her shoulder brushed mine and closed her eyes again. Her arm moved up to my neck and the warmth of it spread across my shoulders. I closed my eyes, but it was a long time before I fell asleep again.

  Chapter 9

  “I’d rather worry about the Viel than the Gathering Ball, Joven,” Koya said, her brows knit together in exasperation as they picked at their morning meal.

  “Rasmus has the Viel situation under control. He has soldiers marching the walls and streets, and we’re waiting for word from the Valley Guardians about the breech.” His gaze softened. “And don’t worry about the ball. If Mother has anything under control, that’s it. You know that.”

  She nodded, her eyes on the blueberry muffin in her hand. “I have a hundred dresses to choose from, and every accessory besides. If Mother could focus her energy on finances and care for the castle instead of spending every cent we scrape together, imagine where we’d be.” A hint of bitterness touched her words, but it was tempered by the slight curve of her smile when she spoke of her mother. Then she laughed, surprising us. “I guess I’ve nothing to do but dress in petticoats and prance about while the duchy is defended by our able militia.”

  Joven chuckled. “I’ve never seen you prance.”

  “I’m very good at it, I assure you.”

  I watched this exchange from my place near the window. Sunlight fell across the carpet and warmed my shoulders as my focus shifted from the valley spread out below the castle to the small sitting room where the siblings chose to take their breakfast.

  Servants came in and out as quiet as snowshoe hares. They brought breakfast items and beverages while clearing platters with an efficiency that told of years of service. The servants glanced at me occasionally, but I kept still so as to not alarm them and they eventually accepted me as part of the scenery, a part that might jump up and bite them if they ventured too close.

  I focused my attention back in time to hear Joven say, “I’ll bet he’d clean up well. I don’t want you to be without one of us at your side.”

  “But at the ball? You don’t think that many lords and ladies, dukes and duchesses would be too overwhelming? It’s a lot for us, let alone for one who hasn’t grown up in society.”

  Joven scoffed. “He fought a Viel, Koya. I think he can handle it.”

  I turned my head to find them both watching me. Koya’s eyes lit up when I looked at her and the faint blush I was becoming fond of spread across her cheeks. Joven studied me calculatingly as if I was a problem he was determined to solve. I had seen that look too many times, though the usual edge of malice was replaced by Joven’s pure curiosity. I met his stare blandly and he laughed. “Sorry. I forget sometimes that there’s a man beneath the wolf.”

  I felt like it was the other way around, but lacked the ability to state so. Joven continued, unaware of my thoughts, “If you’re going to be my sister’s mighty protector, you’ll have to learn how to waltz.”

  “Oh Joven, that’s really not necessary,” Koya stated.

  “How else do you think he’ll fit in?” Joven replied.

  “The servants don’t waltz,” Koya said. Her expression pinched when she realized what she had said. She sputtered, “W-what I mean is, if he doesn’t want to dance, he can dress like a servant and won’t be out of place.”

  Joven shook his head. “I won’t have my sister followed around by a servant. It would be too obvious.”

  “And you don’t think he would deter suitors by dancing with me?” she asked in a tone I swore sounded hopeful.

  Joven paused, then frowned. “You know, you might be right.” His lips pursed as he thought, “He could pose as our cousin.”

  “Everyone knows there’s no such person,” Koya replied. “Our lineage and lack of additional heirs has no doubt been well-versed through the lower duchies. If one appeared out of thin air, it would create an uproar and usurp the tentative hold we have on our crown.”

  Joven started nodding halfway through Koya’s words. “You’re right. That would be foolhardy.” He fell silent for another minute before his face lit up. “He could be an ambassador from across the seas.”

  “From Penchard?” Koya asked, her expression uncertain.

  “From Penchard, Guedst, Danth, I don’t care.” Joven became more excited at the prospect. “But if an ambassador is visiting Vielkeep, it would make sense that he would attend the ball as our guest and we wouldn’t leave him alone.” He grinned at me. “It would also explain your silence if you didn’t understand the language.”

  “He wouldn’t have to dance.” Koya warmed to the idea grudgingly and it made me wonder if she had actually looked forward to the prospect. “And it would explain his unfamiliarity with our customs.” She nodded. “I think you’ve got it.”

  Joven jumped up and hurried to the door.

  “Where are you going?” Koya asked in surprise.

  “I’ve got a diplomat to create,” Joven said with a wicked gleam of excitement in his eyes. “These matters aren’t to be taken lightly. Perhaps I should let Mother in on the ruse.”

  “If you do, she’ll take it way too far, trust me,” Koya replied. “Plus, the less she knows the less gossip will spread at the ball. You’d do best to introduce her to the ambassador at dinner with the rest of them.”

  Joven gave a formal bow of agreement before he turned on his heels and disappeared through the door. Koya let out a sigh of exasperation. “I swear that boy likes mischief a little too much.”

  ***

  I paced near the horses as we traveled down the cobblestone road. Joven’s tall black animal shied at my presence and kicked whenever I ran near him, but Koya’s sleek brown mare merely flared her nostrils and shook her mane warningly at my appearance, then accep
ted my company when I refused to go away. Rasmus and two other soldiers led the way while six others rode around us for protection. Soldiers worked to clear the trees and brush back further so that those on the wall would have a better view of the surrounding land in case more Viel appeared. The sun had barely crested the trees, but the sounds of a bustling town already filled the air. Anvils rang, animals muttered in a cacophony of baas, hoots, snorts, and whinnies, merchants hawked their wares, and the rich thwack of an ax on wood echoed against the castle wall.

  Every scent was new to me and the wolf part of my brain categorized them as soon as they were identified, the smell of an egg and ham pie cooling on a window sill, the feral scent of cats lingering around the alley behind the butcher shop, a clove and onion odor that made me sneeze near an apothecary, the sharp tang of oil and iron, the stench of tallow melted down for candles; the aromas warred in my nose as I stepped alongside the horses. Townspeople threw me curious glances but didn’t ask questions in the presence of the royal siblings.

  We passed through a wide square where merchant shops competed for business. Barterers and tradesmen doubled their efforts when they spotted our party. Joven and Koya shared knowing smiles at the uplifted voices and wares raised for their inspection. They politely declined and the townspeople didn’t appear at all put out by the rejection as we crossed the square and turned down a smaller road.

  The buildings leaned toward each other as though trying to form a tunnel. I fell back behind Koya and Joven’s horses while Rasmus led the way. They stopped at a long wooden building and dismounted. Two boys ran out and led the horses away as if they had been expecting our group.

  Rasmus opened the two wide doors to the building to reveal a low, long room set with tables and wooden benches. “You might want to wait out here,” Koya said quietly. “I don’t know how Cook Tamus would feel about a wolf in her kitchen.”