Starfall

by Michael Griffo

  Nadine takes a step closer to Luba, all fear gone from her eyes. “You would never hurt me!”

  “No, child, I wouldn’t,” Luba replies.

  A triumphant smile spreads across Nadine’s thin lips. But her victory is short-lived and over by the time Luba finishes her sentence.

  “But Dominy would.”

  Chapter 26

  Unwolf me!

  I can feel the moon’s grip latch into my bones, digging deep into my soul to claim ownership, temporarily, but completely, and as much as I want to give in and become the moon’s slave yet again, as much as I want to lose myself within a cloak of glorious red fur, it’s too soon. No! I can’t transform now, not after an announcement like that. Luba has a plan. I don’t know what it is, but it involves me. As always she wants to use me, make me her pawn, her wolf-puppet, make me do the things that she’s too cowardly to do herself. She wants to recline on her black throne and do her best imitation of her own disgusting god—Orion. Well, guess what, Luba? Game time is over. I know too much now; I have too much knowledge; I know all about how balance works in this world, and I refuse to let someone as pathetic as you use me again!

  You’re not the only one with a plan.

  “Is that right, Luba?” I ask, fully aware that I only have control over my voice for about another minute. “You believe I’ll hurt Nadine because you’re afraid of her?”

  Luba’s body doesn’t move; she appears to be frozen in a black cloud of smoke, like an immaculately preserved fossil from a lost era. But then slowly the petrified surface begins to thaw, and her thin lips elongate to form a smile that has never known a moment of pure joy.

  Making the sign of Orion with her left hand—her pinky and thumb touching, while her three remaining fingers point at me—Luba acknowledges that she understands I want to play a game. She also knows my playtime is running out.

  “Are you that foolish, wolf-child, to accuse me of knowing fear?” she asks.

  “I’ve seen your eyes when you look at Vera,” I reply. “It’s the same look you had in your eyes when I told you about Nadine’s plot to get rid of you.”

  “That’s a lie!” Nadine protests. “Don’t listen to her!”

  “Quiet!”

  The sound of Luba’s voice reaches Nadine a few seconds after the blast of black smoke slams into her face.

  Caleb moves in front of Arla, who is standing now, once again in control of her body, in a feeble attempt to protect her. I wish they would leave, take Archie with them, but I know they won’t; they’re going to see this out to the end. Maybe it’s time to push things along. Luba wants to use me; well, it’s time I used her.

  I look outside and see that the moonglow is blinding; it’s pulsing with life, my life! It wants me, and it doesn’t want to wait any longer for its prize.

  “What are you so afraid of, Luba?” I ask, trying to ignore the blood starting to boil underneath my flesh. “Why are you so afraid to be the one to show Nadine exactly how furious you are? Exactly who has more power!”

  Silence is her reaction! Well, I don’t have time for silence!!

  “Are you that stupid, Luba?!” I shout. “Your granddaughter wanted you dead!”

  “She still wants her dead!” Nadine screams.

  Her voice sounds more ferocious and wild and primitive than any sound that has ever emerged from my wolf lips. Nadine’s eyes are mad, her neck thickened and reddened by the angry, blood-soaked veins trying to escape their fleshy host, her entire body tilting forward, kept in place only by Luba’s black smoke.

  “You . . . stole... my . . . child!”

  The heat spreading throughout my body is too much to ignore, and I gasp as I fall forward and my hands slam into the wooden floor. Fight this, Dominy; fight it for as long as you can!

  “Luba wanted to kill your daughter!” I scream, the last word sounding more like some horrific, guttural cry.

  I shake my head futilely, trying to ward off the onslaught of pain and change. Even through my blurred vision I can see Caleb and my friends shudder and press their backs into the walls of the cabin, desperately trying to escape what they know they’ll witness once again.

  “If it weren’t for me, Nadine, your daughter would be dead!”

  “No!” Nadine cries.

  That one sound contains such innocence and horror and shame that it’s almost pitiable. Nadine is fully aware of what her grandmother is capable of; she can testify to Luba’s maliciousness; she has carried out Luba’s sinister plots and championed her evil—but there was always a speck in Nadine’s soiled soul that was pure. It was alive with the knowledge that her grandmother was her ally.

  Every familial relationship is complex; it’s filled with love and hate, compassion and vengeance, pride and envy. Nadine and Luba’s relationship is really no different than my relationship with Barnaby. No matter how dire the circumstances between us may seem, I would stand beside my brother and protect him with my dying breath. Nadine thought she could expect the same from Luba. She was wrong.

  “You were going to kill my daughter?” she asks.

  Gone is fury; in its place, meek wonder. And as a reply, brutal honesty.

  “Of course I was going to kill her,” Luba replies, her voice clear and unfettered by a conscience. “Do you truly think I was going to allow you to replace me without taking action?”

  The clouds surrounding the moon depart, allowing it to hang in the sky in all its silver glory. A huge burst of moonlight engulfs the room and shines on Nadine’s face, making her look younger and more fragile than she’s ever appeared.

  “I thought . . .” she says. “I thought you would understand.”

  Instantly the black smoke swirls around Nadine’s body and then retreats into Luba’s waiting, hungry mouth. Once Luba’s swallowed, once she’s consumed whatever disgust is contained within that blackness, she flies through the air, only stopping when her face is an inch from Nadine’s. Completely horizontal, completely mesmerizing, Luba finally replies.

  “You . . . thought . . . wrong!”

  When my bones begin to break I know my time is up; I’ve stayed on this side of humanhood as long as possible. I don’t know if it’s because I fought the transformation this time or if it’s because I’m terrified of being in this cursed state while in Luba’s presence, but the pain is excruciating.

  Each snap feels like it’s in slow motion, the pain lingering within me, making my body shake violently. I bang my fist so hard into the ground that I break a floorboard in two. I’m gripping it so tightly with my fingers that for a second I think I’m looking at my reddened flesh and not my fur-covered paw.

  In mid-change, I raise my neck and catch Arla staring at me, her eyes fascinated and frightened. She tries valiantly, but she can only hold my gaze for a few seconds before closing her eyes and moving her lips frantically in prayer. There is no way I can hold her instinct against her; she knows what I’m capable of. Caleb’s quite a different story.

  His eyes never wander; they never falter; they consume me just as the moon and the curse and the wolf devour my body. His eyes look the same as they did the first time he kissed me, the first time he made love to me, the way they’re always going to look at me for the rest of our lives, no matter if we stay together or if we part tomorrow. They’re filled with unconditional love. And I stare back at him with the same look in my eyes.

  Even when the girl is buried deep within the wolf’s soul, unseen by the rest of the world, I stare at him, tug on our invisible thread, and maintain my connection to the real world. Unfortunately, Luba has a way of making me question which world—the wolf’s or the girl’s—is the most real.

  “You shouldn’t have lied to me, child,” Luba tells Nadine. “You shouldn’t have concealed the truth about your pregnancy.”

  Lowering her chin and lengthening her back, Nadine tries to compose herself; she tries to exude her usual arrogance, but only succeeds in looking childishly defiant. “I know you would’ve done the same thing
if you were in my place,” Nadine retorts.

  “If our roles had been reversed, child,” Luba whispers, “you would already be dead.”

  “Then how can you hold my actions against me?” Nadine asks. “You do understand. You would’ve done the same thing!”

  “Because I am Luba! And you are nothing more than my subject!”

  Her voice is so loud and thunderous, I can feel the fur all over my body sway in the breeze. I’m not sure what’s more grotesque, her words or their impact. She’s rationalizing her own despicable actions; she’s rationalizing plotting to kill her own great-granddaughter.

  “I thought I was your heir!” Nadine rails back. “I thought I was being groomed to inherit your power.”

  “Again, you thought wrong!” Luba cries. “Had you not been so selfish and greedy and impatient, my power would have come to you naturally, but you have defiled Orion’s spirit!”

  “How?!” Nadine asks. “By wanting to be filled with more of His glory?”

  “By thinking you were ready to defeat His most sacred pupil!” Luba replies. “But if it’s a fight you want, perhaps we can find you a worthy opponent.”

  Still floating in the air, Luba twists her neck so all her hair falls from the left side of her face like an onyx dagger. Smiling at me and then at Nadine, she roars, “My two most prized possessions! The wolf and the witch.”

  I drag my nails across the floor, disgusted by the comparison.

  “Shall we see which one is stronger?”

  Howling furiously, I try to convey to the others that I understand Luba’s plan. She wants Nadine and me to fight to the death. Either she’ll be rid of her nemesis, her wayward creation, and move on to another prey, or she’ll be rid of her granddaughter, her unscrupulous sycophant, and be able to reclaim the child Vera took and raise Nadine’s twins as her own, once again the head of the triumvirate, administering power instead of sharing it. It’s a foolproof plan; either way Luba ends up victorious.

  There’s only one problem. There’s no way I’m going to fight; there’s no way I’m going to allow Luba to curse me with causing another death. That’s brave talk for a wolf, but a girl is much weaker.

  In an instant Luba is standing in front of me, unfazed by my open mouth, my saliva-glistened fangs. That’s because she can see beyond the exterior and peer deep within the wolf. To stare into the soul of the girl.

  “Come out, Dominy,” she taunts. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

  “Leave her alone!” Caleb shouts.

  Luba doesn’t look away; she merely raises her arm, and I don’t have to turn my head to know that Caleb and Arla have been attacked, because I hear them crash into the floor. There is silence on my other side. Archie hasn’t moved, not to run away, nor to try and protect me. He’s merely watching.

  “We’re waiting!”

  Glaring at me, Luba once again makes the sign of Orion and extends her arm. Is she insane? She’s going to shove her hand in my mouth. Do it! Do it so I can bite it off and swallow it! I’ll digest every disgusting piece of your flesh if it’ll stop you! But Luba isn’t that careless; she’s putting on a show.

  Three streams of black smoke spring out from her fingers, twist around each other like a long, ebony braid, and hover in the air for just a second before plunging straight down my throat. I bite down hard, but it’s too late; my body’s being invaded by this foreign force, and I’m defenseless against its attack.

  “Dominy!”

  Caleb’s voice crashes against my ears as Luba’s smoke burns into my stomach and spreads out like wind, unstoppable, deep within me.

  “What are you doing to her?” Caleb cries.

  “Making her reveal her true self,” Luba replies.

  Something tells me to keep my mouth clenched, to not allow the smoke to free itself from this wolf prison. Whimpering sounds trickle out of me as my body bangs into the floor; my paws try to grip into the wood, but my legs can hardly remain straight. There’s a war going on inside of me, and regardless of who wins, I lose.

  “Open wide, Dominy,” Luba commands.

  For the first time that I can remember, Luba uses her own two hands to do battle. She grabs my snout, one hand on top, the other on the bottom, and tries to open my mouth. Clenching down tight against her assault, I can hear my teeth gnash against each other; I can feel my fangs pierce the skin of my lip; I can taste my own sweet, sweet blood. It reminds me of how hungry I am, and it gives Luba that tiny piece of leverage she needs.

  She yanks open my mouth with such force that I expect her to rip my jaw from my body and raise it over her head as her trophy. But Luba isn’t interested in fleshly prizes. She’s come for my soul.

  Smoke pours out of my mouth, but it isn’t black; it’s red. It isn’t Luba’s spirit that’s leaving my body; it’s Dominy’s.

  Like an illusionist pulling a long red scarf from his mouth, Luba pulls a long stream of red smoke from mine. Inch by inch the smoke emerges, making me gag and retch and choke. Tears sputter from my eyes, moistening my fur, making my vision as blurry as it is during a transformation, which makes sense, because right now I’m going through another change. I blink my eyes because I can’t believe what I’m seeing. The red smoke is taking shape, the shape of a girl, the girl who lives deep inside of me.

  “Dominy!”

  The people around me shout the same name practically in unison. They’re as shocked as I am to see this girl emerge, to see her shape become molded by the smoke, to see her come alive bathed in the color of blood right before their eyes. But this is no frightened newborn; this girl has been waiting to be freed.

  Inhaling sharply, Dominy’s body floats a few feet higher off the floor. Her head tilts back so her long, incredibly long, red hair, a wild tangled mane, hangs behind her. Her lithe body is covered in a long slip, almost a membrane that barely covers her sinewy, muscled body. Every feature of her is glorious; every inch of her body is alive.

  Face-to-face we stand, wolf and girl, for the first time since our cursed birth, separated, tentative, and unsure of our new surroundings, these new sensations, but desperate to experience them. We look deeply into each other’s eyes, and we see ourselves, and we smile. For all the horror we have witnessed, we always know we’ll have each other.

  But right now Dominy doesn’t want anyone. All she wants is vengeance.

  “Nadine!”

  Dominy’s voice bellows through the cabin, making the walls vibrate as if in a dream.

  “It’s time you found out what it’s like to be me!”

  Consumed by years of anger and pain and suffering, Dominy grabs Nadine by the throat and lifts her over her head. The other girl twists in her grip, claws at her hands, but there’s no escape, not even when Caleb begs Dominy to let go.

  “Dominy, no!” Caleb cries. “Don’t do this!”

  Swinging around to face her boyfriend, Dominy doesn’t let go of Nadine; she keeps her raised in the air.

  “This is part of me, Caleb,” she replies. “If you love me, you have to accept all of me, the good . . . and the bad.”

  Her words strike against him like razors, but he’s a strong one; it will take a lot more than that to push him away. “Just remember who you really are,” he pleads.

  Pausing only momentarily to reflect upon his request, Dominy smiles. “That’s exactly what I’m going to have Nadine do.”

  Turning back around to face the open window, Dominy positions Nadine so she faces the full moon.

  “Look at the moon, Nadine!” Dominy cries. “And tell me how it feels!”

  Suddenly Dominy lets go of Nadine, but instead of crashing onto the floor, the terrified girl is blasted with silver moonlight that lifts her even higher, until she almost touches the ceiling. Screaming wildly, her back arched, hands gripping the air, Nadine looks like she’s being electrocuted. Nothing so pleasurable, however. She’s being transformed.

  The blaze of silver light disappears, and Nadine falls to the floor with such force t
hat her hand slices through an end table. Instead of passing out from the pain, she scrambles to her knees, but before she can get upright she clutches her stomach in agony and lurches forward, her face slamming into some broken shards of wood.

  “What are you doing to me?!” she wails.

  “The same thing that you and your grandmother have done to me!” Dominy cries. “Month after month after month!!”

  Nadine’s eyes widen, and the realization hits her that Dominy has reversed the curse; she’s forcing Nadine to undergo the same cruel and painful and incessant transformation that Dominy has had to experience since her sixteenth birthday.

  “Help me!!”

  Even if anyone wanted to help Nadine, they couldn’t. Once such power is unleashed, it can’t be squashed until it’s finished its journey. And Nadine’s transformation is just beginning.

  “I’m on fire!!”

  “How does it feel, Nadine?” Dominy asks. “Like lava rushing through your veins?”

  I turn my head and see Arla’s face buried in Caleb’s shoulder, his own face turned away from the scene, neither of them wishing to bear witness to the ugliness. But Archie’s eyes are wide open; he’s consuming every second of Nadine’s torture. He could be repelled by it or relishing it; I can’t tell. Whatever the reason, he cannot or will not look away. Neither will Dominy. She wants to see Nadine suffer like she must every month; she wants her to know what she has to go through because of Nadine’s family’s curse.

  “This is what you’ve done to me!” Dominy cries. “Do you understand what you people are putting me through?!”

  “Stop it!!” Nadine begs. “Please st . . . ahhh!”

  Her plea turns into a shriek as she watches her legs break in the wrong direction, and then she screams maniacally as she watches her arms and her flesh begin to be covered with foul black fur. All remnants of the light that often accompanies her are gone, vanished from sight so as not to partake in their host’s gruesome metamorphosis.

  “I’m dying!” she manages to scream. “Help me!”

  Words are completely lost as her face disappears underneath a mask of fur and fangs and fear. Exhausted, Nadine’s body slumps onto the floor until it can find the strength to rise. Panting wildly, the black wolf stands up; the transformation is complete.