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In This Iron Ground (Natural Magic)

Page 13

by Marina Vivancos


  “Don’t worry, one of us will stay with you. Mostly Hakan, I would guess.”

  “But…” Damien had shaken his head, “I’m going to slow you down.”

  “The run isn’t about speed, Damien. It’s about pack.”

  That hadn’t made sense either. Damien wasn’t pack. But he wasn’t going to turn down the invitation to run, either.

  The round moon was pregnant with dripping light. Everybody gathered in the garden, including Nadie, who was still visiting. They each stripped their clothes off, setting the pieces in a neat, practiced row on the porch. Everybody’s moonlit nakedness didn’t seem strange at all. It was as natural as the bare trees and animals of the forest.

  Then, they began to shift. They looked up at the moon and closed their eyes. A moment. Two. And then their bodies began to transform. Their eye sockets, the bridges of their noses, their jaws. The widths of their necks, their shoulders, the runs of their backs. Tails uncurled as fur sprouted. They didn’t seem to be in pain, but the change was kind of horrific. Damien was absolutely fascinated.

  “That was so cool!” He didn’t know which wolf to look at. Mia was the tallest one, her colouring a deep, earth brown tipped with black. Cameron was broad, fur grey with streaks of black. The three siblings were smaller but still significantly larger than normal wolves. Koko ran around Damien, brown fur bouncing. Nadie, a darker shade than most of them, ran after her. Hakan’s grey form watched for a second before galloping at Damien, who yelped before laughing as Hakan’s massive head nudged him playfully.

  “Wow, you’re like a big puppy in this form, huh?” Damien joked. Hakan nudged him again, harder this time. Damien stumbled, laughing. “Okay, okay! No puppy jokes!” he lied.

  Hakan’s wet nose poked Damien in the stomach, jumping around him so that Damien spun as he tried to retaliate. He’d never seen Hakan this playful.

  Mia barked, and all the werewolves turned to attention. There was a moment of tense excitement. Mia stood, enormous and beautiful in the moonlight. Then, she gave a short howl and bolted into the trees. Everybody followed except Hakan, who nudged Damien forwards into a trot. He kept pace with Damien as they joined the forest whilst Cameron guided the twins deep into the trees.

  It was a suspension of reality. There were no worries, no expectations, no judgments. There was the breath of the pack, the feel of the air, the scent of the forest. There was Hakan, always there, his rudder through howling air. Damien never tripped, let alone fell, steadfastly following the northern light of Hakan’s wolf form. Damien felt like he was expanding, his atoms joining that of the rich earth, the old bark, the newborn leaves, the moonlight.

  He ran.

  He let go.

  **********

  Damien settled in.

  He became part of the household. He had chores, a bedtime, a toothbrush in the bathroom. He got to see the Salgados with bedhead and skin creased by pillows. He was there for all the squabbles, the fights. Mia and Cameron were pushed into yelling sometimes, mostly at Koko who challenged them the hardest. Damien would sit still and quiet and go somewhere else. He didn’t like people yelling, but he was used to the energy it caused.

  One time, Hakan noticed and told everybody to stop. It was almost worse. Everybody was looking at him. He was almost fifteen. He didn’t need to be coddled. But the volume of their fights decreased after that.

  Mostly, there was balance. Damien liked to take care of Lallo and Dee or spend time in the library with the ancient texts. He spent more time in Hakan’s and Koko’s rooms than his own, but it was nice to have a space for himself, too.

  Even school improved. Simply having Olive to hang out with between classes made the whole school experience bearable. Olive warmed up to him surprisingly quickly after that first breach of defences, and Damien basked in every moment of the friendship.

  Despite this, Christmas approached like a lumbering beast. In the nighttime hours that were dead and silent, a knot would tighten in his stomach. His nightmares worsened into fragmented, violent projections of his fears.

  He woke up on one such night, sweaty and desperate, too disoriented to go downstairs for a drink. The images of the nightmare still clung to him. The fear, the feeling of being utterly alone. The endless distance around him that he would never be able to cross.

  The rotting thing inside him.

  He paced around the room, arms crossed, hands clutching at his elbows as he shook, the debris of adrenaline strewn inside him. There was something vulnerable in Damien that still dreamed of his parents waking up, of reversing the damage done.

  But he was alone and sinking, sinking.

  Damien froze as he heard a noise outside his door. Despite all that the Salgados had done to show that they were trustworthy, an instinctual fear remained. The door opened to reveal Hakan’s hesitant form. Damien breathed out in a rush, relieved, before turning away from him. He heard Hakan shuffle into the room before the door closed.

  “Damien…”

  “I’m fine,” Damien said quickly. “Sorry. Did I wake you?” He tried to strangle his voice into normalcy. He heard Hakan step closer and hunched into himself, wrapping his arms around his middle as Hakan’s hand landed softly on a shoulder blade. The contact was almost too much, bringing reality in. His lips trembled, teeth almost chattering, but he couldn’t pull away.

  “What is it, Damien? What’s happened?” Hakan asked in that same concerned tone that made Damien feel like he was caught on a loop, repeating the same scenes, stumbling into the same pitfalls. Damien laughed wetly, shaking his head.

  Hakan gently manoeuvred him to the bed, sitting them both down on the edge. The warmth of Hakan’s hand wrapped gently around Damien’s wrist, an anchor. The silence filled with Damien’s unsteady breaths. He could feel Hakan looking at him, his gaze the same unbearably gentle texture of his skin again Damien’s.

  “Don’t go,” Hakan said suddenly. The words were said softly, but they hit Damien like a physical force, jerking him into looking at Hakan.

  “What?”

  “Stay with us,” Hakan said. “You said—when we were, when I found you in the forest, we said until Christmas, or the New Year. I don’t know if that’s what’s worrying you but…don’t go.”

  Damien stared at him incredulously. Not that Hakan had guessed, but that he was so unreasonable in his demands, so flippant of the pain it would cause Damien when the inevitable end came.

  Damien looked away, shaking his head. “Hakan…” he said, almost frustrated. Hakan’s hand around his wrist tightened marginally. Its pressure remained an anchor instead of a noose.

  “Please, Damien. Stay,” Hakan said. Damien looked at him again, at his earnest, open face.

  “Why?” Damien demanded.

  “Because I—we—want you here.”

  “That’s not gonna last,” Damien said, shaking his head again.

  Hakan made a frustrated noise. “Do it for me, then. ’Cause I’m asking you to. Please. Stay.”

  Damien’s whole body tensed up. He wanted to rage, Why? He wondered if Hakan knew how selfish his request was, unknowingly setting him up for a hard fall.

  But the truth was, Damien was tired. He was exhausted beyond the sleepless nights. Exhausted of fighting against something he so desperately wanted. Of keeping the fear alive, of always being vigilant, always anticipating the hit.

  Damien looked at Hakan’s hand around his wrist. “You don’t know what you’re asking me,” he said quietly. He felt Hakan shift beside him, could imagine the frown without having to look at his face. “Fine, Hakan. Fine,” Damien said before Hakan could reply. Telling Mia that he was leaving, throwing everything she had done for him in her face, had been an unrealistic plan anyway.

  Damien kept trying to lie to himself, and Hakan kept breaking right through them.

  Hakan tensed beside him and then seemed to deflate, slumping slightly against Damien.

  “Thank you,” he said. Damien closed his eyes.

  It made n
o difference that Hakan was asking. When the end came, he would have nobody to blame but himself.

  **********

  Damien always felt both faintly hollow and easily excitable around the winter holidays. During his last Christmas, the McKenzies had sent Damien to his room mid-meal for being “overly excited”. But in the Salgado household, even Damien would be hard-pressed to stand out. Damien realized that the Salgados celebrated Christmas as many families did: in the spirit of family and giving, without any of the religious connotations. Instead, they celebrated Yule.

  As December began, Damien helped decorate the house with holly and mistletoe. The pine tree they dragged into the house dominated the living room and was decorated haphazardly by the whole family. Damien stood on the fringes until he was pulled into the fray by Lallo of all people. It was impossible to feel left out in the Salgado house.

  During the full moon of Yule, the whole extended pack descended upon the house. Pine logs were burned in a large bonfire. Mulled wine was passed around. A pig was cooked in a pit underground for the whole day and then eaten as night fell.

  In the light of the stars, Damien watched as Nova performed the Yule Ritual. She thanked the land that sustained them, giving back to it from the pack’s Ousía, whilst asking it to bless them in return. Incense burned through the night air as her calm chants rang out. Even Damien’s passive Ousía felt the echoes of Nova’s power, of the power of the land and the balance it sought.

  When the moon was high, the shifters transformed. Wolves of all sizes appeared from the silver light. Damien looked around in fascination. It was the scene of a movie, of a fantasy story. It was one of Damien’s desperate pleas as he curled under a desk and wished to be taken to another dimension.

  As soon as Hakan shifted he bounded towards Damien as usual, who took the opportunity to ambush the wolf with tinsel, wrapping it playfully around his neck. Before Hakan could escape, he tied tuffs of the hair on his head and mane in small, Christmas-themed bobbles, small Santa hats and candy canes wobbling between dark fur. Damien whipped out his phone and took a series of pictures, most of them capturing Hakan’s disgruntled face as he tried to paw off the offending ornaments. Koko, who hadn’t yet shifted, doubled over with laughter, and the twins piled onto Hakan to try and stop him from taking the bobbles off. The rest of the wolves huffed with laughter, nudging Damien and Hakan playfully until all of the decorations were off him. Hakan threw Damien a glare and then bolted into the forest but didn’t even last thirty seconds before trotting back and pushing Damien forwards with his head grudgingly. Damien gave Hakan a quick, teasing hug, which Hakan allowed.

  “Softy,” Damien smiled. Hakan treated him to the amazing sight of a wolf rolling his eyes.

  This time, Damien wasn’t the only bipedal creature, other than the twins, left. He ran with the other humans. Each seemed to have a particular wolf that guided them, not out of necessity but out of tradition.

  Damien smiled at the moon for giving him this.

  *****

  Christmas Eve was another whole-pack celebration, this one less steeped in tradition and more in enjoying family and food. There was a special wine for the werewolves that combatted their high metabolic rate and several of the adults got tipsy and loud, but Damien didn’t mind much. The energy was jovial and the kids were left to do what they pleased.

  Christmas morning dawned with Dee and Lallo waking everybody up. Damien barely had time to feel anxious. He was dragged downstairs to the Christmas tree, where they waited as hot chocolate was prepared and distributed.

  Damien and the Salgado children had played secret Santa. Damien had gotten Hakan and gifted him a hand-drawn comic book. The protagonist was a boy with a wolf counterpart, both creatures the two sides of the same coin, capturing the duality of man by using werewolf lore to create a set of characters that were really one. The wolf and his human were part of a larger family of found friends who hung out together. It was less a “fight-a-foe” comic than it was an exploration of coming together with people and creatures that understood you.

  He also gave each Salgado, including Hakan, a photograph of Hakan’s wolf form in tinsel and bobbles, which Nadie had helped him print professionally and frame. Everybody reacted with grins and elbows to Hakan’s ribs. Hakan rolled his eyes, but the smile twitching the side of his lips was obvious.

  Damien, in turn, was given a graphic novel on a Red Riding Hood twist courtesy of a smirking Nadie. Damien rolled his eyes but flipped through it excitedly. He was then surprised by receiving gifts from Mia and Cameron along with the Salgado siblings. He anxiously unwrapped a video game, a massive book on herbology, a pair of T-shirts, and a small Christmas tree ornament. It was the last one that threw him for a loop the most. The figurine was shaped like a small, beautiful bird caught mid-flight. The suggestion that he’d be there for the next Christmas to have it join the others had his lungs constricting into a ball.

  There was no doubt that everybody could hear his racing heart.

  The rest of the day was overstuffed with food and lazing about. Damien started his new video game as Hakan watched, and then they started one of the graphic novels Hakan had received.

  The entire day was held in an odd state of suspension, hanging carefully between reality and dream. Damien let the hours take him along, warm and safe in a corner of the Salgado pack.

  **********

  Mia took Damien out to the forest.

  They walked between the trees. Mia pointed out different plants Damien had seen the diagrams of pressed between pages.

  She talked about how the Salgado pack had been there for generations. How they were bonded to the land. It was a balance of give and take. The Ousía of the earth fed the pack as they gave in return.

  She talked about the importance of balance. Of understanding the true value of things and repaying in kind.

  She talked about how they were each part of something bigger. How they were equal with the world. How the problems of man blinded people from seeing what they were. The simplicity of their existence. The freedom of being if you lived in harmony with what gave you life.

  She spoke as if Damien was part of what she was too. As if he were tied to this land.

  It may not have been true literally, but he felt the bonds of being a creature of the earth nonetheless.

  He felt something inside flourish from the iron ground.

  **********

  April dragged with it Damien’s fifteenth birthday. He awakened with the dawn and lay in his bed. He stared at the cream ceiling, free of ropes and the sweat of nightmares. He breathed in the air of his room. He listened to the Salgado household wake and stir. He could feel their home around him as if it had a life of its own, personified by the memories created by its occupants. By their warmth and nature. It was a soft cocoon around his body.

  The events of his fourteenth birthday cast a long shadow, but Damien could see the light. He could feel it on his skin, almost.

  Hope was a dangerous thing, but Damien wasn’t sure he wanted to escape it anymore.

  The Salgados were aware his birthday was a sensitive subject, but they were not tentative about their insistence on throwing him a party. They even encouraged him to invite Olive. He knew the invitation was a big deal for a werewolf family, but Damien couldn’t turn the offer down.

  When he went downstairs, everybody greeted him with playful happy birthdays. There was no heaviness in their words. At least on the surface, the past had been left behind.

  Lallo and Dee ambushed him as soon as he stepped into the kitchen.

  “Presents!” Dee exclaimed. Damien carefully took the pictures they held out. The drawings were colourful and filled with the people that stood around him. It was a family picture, and Damien stood amongst the pack.

  Damien crouched down and hugged them. They crowded on him, rubbing their heads against his neck and clothes as they had taken to doing lately. Scent marking him.

  The others promised their gift-giving would wait
until the party. Damien wasn’t sure what he felt more of: anxiety or love.

  At school, Olive pushed a package towards him during lunch. Damien looked at it with wide eyes.

  “What? Not gonna get something for my best friend?” she teased. Damien’s heart started pounding. She didn’t know about last year. This wasn’t pity. It was real.

  “Thanks,” he said quietly. Olive shoved him playfully, but her normally stoic face softened with a grin.

  Koko and Hakan sat with them in the cafeteria. Damien almost protested, but he was tired of pretending he didn’t want the things he was desperate for.

  Cameron picked them up from school. Olive became strangely polite in his presence, but he could see her melt under Cameron’s cheerful demeanour.

  When they reached the Salgado household, Olive whistled under her breath as she looked around.

  “Jesus, you hit the foster jackpot, huh?” she whispered at Damien, unknowing of the keen senses that picked up her words. Damien smiled, shrugging.

  She had no idea.

  Olive reverted back to being tense and formal as they stepped into the house, even if she pretended to be nonchalant. Lallo and Dee seemed wary of her too, but it was hard to remain stiff at the Salgados’.

  They did their homework together, even Olive who normally ignored the teacher’s requests. They were served snacks and the work quickly devolved into laughter and ribbing.

  Koko and Olive, who hadn’t interacted much despite being in the same year, clicked straightaway. They both had sharp, sarcastic senses of humour they bounced against each other. The three of them went to Koko’s room for a while and looked through Koko’s macabre collection. Olive’s eyes lit up. Damien felt warm at the sight of the people he cared about coming together. Of his wealth being shared.

  The party was small but rambunctious. Dee and Lallo had been infected by the celebratory air, and even Lallo was especially excitable. When Damien went downstairs for dinner, the dining room was decorated with balloons and a glittering sign congratulating him for making it to fifteen.

 

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