Silver Moon (A Women of Wolf's Point Novel)

by Catherine Lundoff

  Shelly and Erin exchanged glances but Shelly spoke first, “In order to tap into the valley’s magic, the magic that makes us wolves, someone has to perform some rituals, then channel the energy. It hasn’t been done before in anyone living’s memory. And when they did it last, they didn’t write anything down. We’ve just got a few stories to go by. All the other information we had was at the Women’s Club and you know what happened to that.”

  Erin stepped forward, reaching for Becca’s hand. She turned her to face one of the paintings on the wall. It was one of the ones located near the entrance, showing a wolf on two legs with breasts. She was surrounded by a white glow and her arms/paws were outstretched like she was being pulled up into a spaceship or something. There was a second, much smaller drawing of the same figure in the background, running up a mountain.

  “It just looks like she’s going after something.” Becca squinted at the wall and stepped closer.

  “Well, according to the Circle, she channeled the magic and it changed her. Permanently.” Erin let go of Becca’s hand and was looked at the pictures too. Her face seemed distant, disconnected from what she was seeing.

  No! The thought nearly tore itself out of Becca with a howl. She had to be able to stop this. Or at least to help Erin, somehow. She glanced around wildly, trying to figure out exactly what they were planning. The backpacks were inside the cave, stacked by the entrance. Based on what she’d seen of their contents, she guessed that whatever ritual they were going to try, it would be like the one from the first time she changed. But what other alternatives did they have?

  Nothing jumped out at her until she looked back at the pattern. Its center called to her like it was the center of everything that was happening or going to happen. The notion hit her like an electric shock, but she wasn’t sure what it meant. She peered down at floor, trying to puzzle the design out. Finally, she asked, “How does it work?”

  Shelly stepped away from the packs, changing places with Erin to stand near Becca. “Well, it’s like a maze, like the ones they use for meditation. Erin will need to follow the pattern through all the loops and turns. Something will happen at each of them, but we’re not really sure what that’ll be. “

  “Why does it have to be Erin?” Becca could hear the desperation in her voice and barely controlled a flinch.

  “Well, the legend says that it has to be the current alpha of the Pack. Since I was with the Nesters, Erin’s been the alpha—” Shelly stopped abruptly, her eyes haunted.

  “They used the cure on you too, didn’t they?” Becca reached out and touched her shoulder gently. Shelly probably couldn’t change now, not if they’d given her multiple shots, given what one dose of that crap had done to her. She would be powerless to lead as a wolf for the time being. And Erin had lost no time volunteering to sacrifice herself. That much was clear.

  Becca looked from Shelly and Erin while her thoughts turned over. On the one hand, she couldn’t say Erin was wrong. If this was what needed to happen, she would put herself in danger to save Shelly too. But maybe there was another way. After all, they were planning something dangerous based on hearsay and old stories and some cave art.

  Cave art. That struck home and she looked around the walls from one painting to the next, studying each of them. All of them depicted a woman or a wolf or some blend of the two. Each one was shown alone, not surrounded by other wolves. Each painting was distinct from the others from different time periods as well, adding to the impression of isolation. That had to mean something, but what? Wolves weren’t usually on their own.

  She tried to imagine handling changing on her own with no Pack support. She’d tried it, tried to run off to Mountainview, and it cost a man his life. He didn’t crop up much in her thoughts and dreams, not lately anyway, but she hadn’t forgotten him either.

  Given what he’d done to that little boy, she couldn’t bring herself to regret his death, but maybe, just maybe, if she’d been with the Pack, she might have done something differently. There would have been someone else weighing in before it happened, at least. It might not have changed anything, but then again…

  Her thoughts trailed off as she watched Erin do some more unpacking. She had a small drum, a couple of jars with white stuff in them, some feathers and a couple of other things. There was also a long, sharp knife with an ornate black handle. “What’s that for?”

  Erin blushed and looked down at the pack. “Well, it’s not like I had a list of things to use. The valley’s magic picks and chooses what it responds to and point of origin doesn’t seem to enter it. I just figured that anything that worked for any of the traditions we knew might work here. From what the Circle said, intent was the main thing, and there are European traditions that call for using a knife to cut through spiritual barriers and channel energy. I figured it couldn’t hurt to have it along.”

  “But the pattern looks almost Navajo—is it? Only this section looks more like a maze.” Becca asked, the urge to ask questions rising more from a desire to delay whatever was going to happen than real curiosity. Outside, she could feel the moon rising higher in the sky, calling to her. Instinctively, she knew they’d have to do their ritual soon to be effective.

  “I think so. I got part of it from a drawing that Maria, Shelly’s mom, had in her files. The rest, honestly, I got from online.” Erin looked up at Shelly with an apologetic grimace. “There hasn’t really been time to ask what you think. Does this look crazy wrong to you?”

  Shelly rubbed her hands over her face and swayed a little on her feet. “God, I wish I knew for sure. Hey, Lizzie, can we borrow you a minute?”

  The deputy stepped cautiously inside the cave, glancing approvingly at Becca when she finished blinking in the torchlight. “Nice to see you back. What’s up?”

  “Do you remember anything Estella had to say about the old ways, how we used to do things? I can remember bits and pieces but not enough to get us much further than this.” Shelly’s expression was as frustrated as her voice. Her fingers flexed whenever she stretched out her hands, almost as if she was expecting her hands to change. “We lost so much when Margaret died before she could pass everything on.”

  Lizzie frowned down at the floor, mouth twisting in thought. “Well, nothing about a pattern that looks like this. There was that thing she used to say about walking the path with the Pack; it might have meant something along these lines. Or it might have been a strong suggestion that we not go out with the wrong sort of boys and start smoking at thirteen,” Lizzie and Shelly exchanged eyerolls. Becca tried and failed to imagine either of them as teenagers.

  Lizzie glanced over her shoulder toward the cave mouth and frowned. “Don’t you have to do whatever you’re going to do while the moon is still up? I mean no one knows for sure how they did this in the old days, right? Can you just let the magic tell you what it wants?”

  “Out of the mouths of babes,” Erin said with a grin. Becca noted that it was a tired and nervous one, but at least it looked like her usual smile. The one she might not have again if this worked out the way that they feared it would.

  “Wait!” Becca held her hands out. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to feel the magic in the cave. Something pushed back gently against her, vanishing the moment she reached for it, like mist. She strained, reaching for whatever it was with every bit of energy she could summon. It hovered just out of range, almost taunting her.

  She opened her eyes and stared at the others, frustration making her voice shake. “I think I know what we should do. It’s just there, at the edge of my mind. The one thing that seems clear is that it needs to be all three of us, not just Erin.”

  “All three of us doing what?” Erin cocked her head slightly, her jaw seeming to elongate in the flickering light. “Walking the pattern?”

  Becca gestured at the walls, cutting Erin and Shelly off before they could argue any more. “Look at them: all of them are alone. But they shouldn’t be. There should be a Pack with them. Right?”r />
  The others looked around. “It’s just paintings of the alphas, Becca. More like memorials than depictions of Pack life,” Shelly said, shrugging.

  “It’s still wrong. It’s got to be. We have to do this together,” Becca said, trying to feel more certain as she picked up three candles and lit them. “We need to walk the pattern together to make this work. I’m sure of it.”

  Erin looked at Shelly as if for guidance. Shelly gave her a long, baffled look back, then she stepped forward to the edge of the pattern on the floor. “Okay, we’ll try it your way. Give me the knife. Maybe a candle, too. Then you two follow me.”

  Erin jumped forward. “No way! I go first. This is my responsibility. I took it on. Besides, I don’t want to face Pete and Kira and the others if something happens to you.” She held the knife in one trembling hand.

  Shelly looked like she was going to object but after a moment, she nodded. “All right. If something goes wrong, at least maybe one of us can finish it. Lizzie, can you take the drum? You don’t have to play anything special, just give us a good steady beat.”

  “What about guarding this place?” Lizzie looked uncomfortable and Becca couldn’t blame her. If the remaining Nesters knew about the cave and attacked tonight, they’d be sitting ducks. Wolves. Whatever.

  “This is more important.” Shelly’s lips quirked upward. “I think.”

  Erin let her breath out in what sounded like a sigh. “Let’s get going then. I take point. Shelly, you’re between us. Becca, you’re last. If something happens and I tell you two to jump out of the pattern, do it. Anything goes wrong, it should only happen to me.”

  Becca grinned a little. They’d see if that was how it all worked out. She’d protect Erin, somehow. Even if the other woman didn’t want to be protected. She handed lit candles to Shelly and Erin as Lizzie sat down near the cave entrance and started to drum. The sound rolled through the space, echoing until Becca could feel it in her bones.

  Shelly murmured something that might have been a prayer or a blessing. Then she stepped forward and put her hand on Erin’s shoulder. Erin faced the pattern, the knife in one hand, a lit taper in the other. Becca joined the line behind them, wondering nervously what was going to happen next, despite her resolve.

  They all stood there for a moment. Becca sent out a prayer of her own to whoever might be listening. Her stomach felt like it was filled with lead. What if doing this made all three of them change forever, not just Erin? She tried to shrug the fear away. They needed to try it and that was all there was to it.

  Erin stepped forward, entering the pattern. Shelly and Becca followed her, stepping carefully so as to stay within its lines. As Becca stepped inside the lines, she could feel the air part around her, invisible fabric spilling over her shoulders in a wave. She took another step, then another as she followed the others, her awareness narrowing to the women in front of her, the pattern under her feet and the sound of the drum.

  That focus was why she banged her nose on Shelly’s shoulder when her boss stopped abruptly. “Ow! Sorry about that,” she murmured, some instinct telling her to keep her voice low. “What’s the matter?”

  “I’m not sure. Erin says she’s hit a wall.” Shelly murmured back without taking her eyes off Erin.

  Erin had her hands in front of her, still holding the knife and the candle, but now it looked like her knuckles were braced on thin air, as if it was a glass door or window. There didn’t seem to be any obvious edges to it, judging from the way that she was able to spread her arms out and still hit the barrier. She pulled her hands in and bowed her head over the candle for a moment. Becca couldn’t tell if her eyes were closed or not.

  Then she straightened up. “Give me your strength,” she said over one shoulder.

  What the hell did that mean? Becca was completely baffled. Should they push her through? Jump forward with the candles held out in some kind of Three Musketeers move?

  There was a wave of something from Shelly, flowing more or less in Erin’s direction. It smelt like wolf, whatever it was, and it settled on Erin’s shoulders like a cloak. Becca bit her lip trying to figure out how to do it. She thought wolf and nearly shrieked when she saw her hands begin to lengthen. Not that much wolf, then. Right. She closed her eyes and tried to push mentally in Erin’s direction.

  She missed the moment when Erin pointed the knife at the barrier and pushed forward with everything she had. They lurched forward and Becca nearly fell out of the pattern. She caught herself in time and looked over Erin’s shoulder to see what was coming up next, but couldn’t see anything except the design. They walked around the outermost part of the pattern slowly, but without incident.

  Then at the second ring, there was a flash of light and Erin stumbled badly, landing on her knees in one of the pattern’s twists. Shelly bent over her, holding her shoulders and steadying her from falling over the lines. Erin swayed and Becca nearly jumped forward to hold her; only Shelly’s warning look held her back.

  “I might have known that I’d find you here. Interesting little confab you’ve got going on.” They all jumped as Oya’s voice boomed from the cave opening. “Give me your gun, little groupie, or Cousin Shelly bites the dust,” The gun trembled slightly in her hands but there was no way she could miss any of them at that range.

  Lizzie cursed softly and looked like she’d like to tackle the Nester but her hands were full of the drums. Slowly, she reached up and unsnapped her holster. “What do you think you’re going to do, Sara? Shoot us all and try and get out of the county alive? You know you won’t make it.”

  Becca shuddered, hoping that Oya wouldn’t take Lizzie up on the suggestion. She wondered what kind of bullets the gun would fire; did they have to be silver if they were all in human form? Would it hurt if they were? They said silver was pretty soft. She could feel Shelly tensing under her hands, clearly planning to try something. Erin was getting slowly and carefully to her feet, her boots scuffing the pattern a little but not blurring it too much.

  Oya stepped closer and picked up the gun that Lizzie pushed toward her. She tucked it into her belt but kept her own gun trained on Shelly. Wherever she’d been since Becca saw her last hadn’t been kind to her. There were big circles under her eyes, twigs in her unwashed hair and leaves all over her jean jacket. A cut on one hand was still bleeding and Becca could smell it from across the cave. It made her want to bite Oya more than usual.

  Judging from the expression on Shelly’s face, the feeling must be nearly universal. “So what do you want to do now, Sara? You’re here by yourself so I’m guessing you lost your buddies along the way.”

  The Nester leader’s breath hissed out between her teeth. “I’m Oya now. She who brings change. You will honor my warrior name by using it. Sara,” she paused and nearly spat the word out, “was someone who wanted to be one of you. She’s dead now.”

  “Sara was our grandmother’s name. And you still are one of us, somewhere under all the crap they’ve been pumping into you.” Shelly stepped forward and Becca winced. The expression on Oya’s face hardened.

  Becca could feel Erin start to move, as if she was thinking about lunging forward. A horrible vision of Erin being shot again flashed through her mind and she nearly grabbed Erin’s arm. But that would just draw Oya’s attention. Becca didn’t want to look down the barrel of that gun again. Well, any gun, truthfully. But here they were, stuck in the middle of this ritual while Oya seemed to be waiting for something. That was the only reason that Becca could think of that made her hold her fire.

  She wondered what the woman was waiting for, then she remembered Anderson. If Oya was waiting on anything, it was probably him. When he showed up, he’d no doubt have a few more Nesters with him.

  With that, came the realization that the moon was riding the sky over the cave, calling to her wolf self. She could feel herself responding to it. It was distracting, almost like two different people were trying to pull her in different directions. They needed to finish this now.
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br />   She closed her eyes for a moment and missed Shelly changing and Lizzie lunging for the gun. There was a shot and Erin knocked her to the floor, the impact knocking the breath out of her. She looked up to find Shelly charging Oya in wolf form, blood leaking from a hole in her ribs.

  Lizzie hit the Nester from the other side as she fired again. This time the shot threw sand up in their faces as it hit the pattern, then ricocheted. The pattern. Becca glanced down at the sand rapidly getting rolled into an unidentifiable mass underneath them. Then she lurched to her feet and pulled Erin up with her. “Keep moving through it! If Shelly can catch up, she will, but we’ve got to finish this.”

  Erin looked at Shelly and Lizzie and Oya struggling near the entrance. Shelly fell back with a yelp as Oya hit her wounded side. Erin stepped forward with a growl, colliding with Becca as she blocked her progress. “If you want to help, keep moving. We’ve got to finish this. I can’t do it on my own—I’m not alpha.”

  Another shot rang out and they both ducked. Becca gently shoved Erin forward, moving her past the part of the pattern that they had destroyed when they rolled on it. Part of the third loop in, and all of the smaller rings going into the center were still intact though. Erin stepped forward and it was as if walls surrounded them on both sides. Becca felt like she could reach out and touch them. She wondered if they were bullet-proof. She hoped they didn’t have to find out.

  There was another wolflike yelp followed by a very human voice cursing from the entrance. Becca tried to move Erin along faster but it was as if the magic was slowing them down deliberately. Every step was an effort, every breath like lifting a heavy weight. The moon outside felt muted and Becca could feel the wolf inside her slide gradually into sleep. Or at least dormancy.

  She could still feel the magic running through her like a current. Erin kept stepping forward, moving as if she was facing into a strong wind, with Becca’s hands on her shoulders serving as anchor and link. Becca could feel the pressure too; she tried to keep her head down and her focus on where her feet were moving. It seemed to help a little.