“Then we’ll persuade Van Deen to separate from Arcas,” I say more confidently than I feel. From what I’ve heard about him, Van Deen will never do that.
“You don’t even believe that yourself,” Atropos smirks. “Don’t pretend it isn’t true.”
I sigh. “Yes, I don’t think the chances are high, but we need to try. We need to do something that’s better than killing Alis’s son!”
“Slight practical question,” Finn interjects. “That guy is in Canada, right? How are we supposed to get there? I don’t think our friends’ fishing boat will get us that far.”
Lachesis shrugs dismissively. “We’ll open a Portal for you.”
“Wait, so we’re going to travel there now? Soon?” I ask, completely dumbfounded. A second ago, I thought this was still hypothetical. That it would take weeks or longer to actually plan everything.
“Yes, as soon as we’re done talking, Airlea will take you through the Portal. Then you’re on your own.”
Torben frowns. “So we’re doing all the dirty work for you? What’s your role in all this?”
“We observe,” Clotho says coolly. “And cut your threads, if necessary.”
“No thread-cutting necessary,” I mutter. “But aren’t you supposed to spin our threads? Make our decisions for us? Couldn’t you just let everything go well?”
Clotho blushes. “It’s not that easy.”
“Want to expand on that?”
“No, I don’t.”
If looks could kill, I’d be one dead Isla. How did I think Clotho was the nice one at the beginning? Maybe just the least obvious evil one.
“Are you ready?” Lachesis asks and I look at my men.
Are we ready? What did we get ourselves into?
They all look just as unprepared as I am. Hours ago, we were looking for a Portal that would get us to the Fates. Now, those very Fates want us to travel to Canada and confront a madman. This has to be a dream. A very crazy one.
“Could we have another moment to ourselves?” Torben asks and the Fates’ disapproval permeates the room. It’s clear they don’t like it, but eventually, Clotho nods and turns to leave.
“You have five minutes, then Airlea will come and bring you to the Portal. Good luck.”
I breathe a sigh of relief when the door closes behind them.
“What now?” Húnn asks, and I wish I had an answer for him.
Torben clears his throat and rubs his chin. “We’re going to end up in a place we don’t know with shifters that seem to be feral and dangerous. They’ll probably want to attack us, but we need to avoid killing them. Somehow, we need to find a man called James Van Deen and capture him. It’s probably safest if we get him out of there before we ask him to separate from Arcas. If we’re lucky, the Portal will still be open and we can bring him here, or wherever else it leads to. We need to ask that girl, Airlea. Then, after Arcas is free, we can abandon Van Deen on some island, or let the Fates deal with him, whatever.”
Torben sighs deeply. “Sounds easy, right?”
“When you ignore all the things that could go wrong, yes,” Finn smirks. “How do we avoid them killing us?”
“Can we blend in among them?” I ask, but I already guess the answer.
“No, they all share a scent, they’d recognise that we’re different immediately,” Ràn replies, making me think back to the story he shared with me. How his father recognised Ràn wasn’t his son because of his scent.
“We have no idea how their compound looks like and if it’s guarded,” Torben muses. “If it’s in the middle of nowhere, maybe they don’t have guards and we can approach unseen. Even so, it’s likely someone will smell us.”
“What if we just walk in and demand to see their leader?” Húnn asks. “Then we grab him and make a run for it.”
Torben shakes his head. “There will be too many of them, and if Van Deen has the power of Arcas, he’ll be hard to subdue. Arcas was the first bear shifter, after all, he’ll be incredibly strong.”
Yes, my son has always been strong, Alis tells me. But I am stronger.
Wait, does that mean you could dominate them?
Yes, I think I could. It will be hard to keep them all under control, but I should be able to do it for long enough so the others can get to Van Deen. But they’ll have to fight him themselves, I won’t be able to help them. And they can’t hurt Arcas.
“Alis thinks she can help,” I tell the others. “You know that dominance thing where you get all cowry and have to do what she wants?”
They nod sheepishly; Alis did that once when they didn’t let her have part of the prey they’d killed. It had been incredible to see even Torben cower in front of her.
“She thinks she can do that to them all, stop them from attacking you,” I continue. “But you’d have to be quick and get Van Deen as fast as possible. She’s not sure how long she can do it for.”
“That would make things easier,” Torben says with a relieved smile. “We can handle Van Deen, there’s four of us against just one of him.”
Don’t underestimate him, Alis warns. If he even has just a part of my son’s power, it will be a tough fight. And he will fight to kill, while they can only fight to subdue him.
I pass on her words and the guys nod. I’m glad they’re taking her warning seriously. Overconfidence is never a good thing.
Once again I’m glad that these men are mine. Here they are, ready to put themselves into danger to save their species. Lesser men would probably go home and have a good life, but not them. No, they fight for what they believe in. They’re selfless and good.
My ovaries jump in excitement. Girls, you’ll get them again soon. After this adventure, when we’re all safe and sound in our little cottage.
The door opens without warning and in comes Airlea, her long red hair flowing around her shoulders. She reminds me of a messenger of doom, and she’s enjoying her role. I hope she knows that we’re depending on her to give us a way out of Canada. I’m not in the mood to get stuck there in a compound full of feral shifters and madman. Not my kind of adventure.
“Follow me,” she says without preamble and sweeps out of the room with a flick of her head.
“How long will the Portal stay open?” I ask as we hurriedly follow her along the corridor.
“Until you’ve gone through, don’t worry. I might get bored after a while though, so better hurry up. So, I lied, you should worry.”
With a cackle, she leads us into a large, airy room, with windows on all walls. But my eyes are on the Portal in the centre. It’s the same kind of crack again, but this time it’s hovering in the air, not on the ground. I get dizzy just looking at it. It’s not natural. Wrong. Like the universe itself is injured.
Airlea throws some bundles of clothes at us, then leans against the wall and crosses her arms.
“Hurry up and don’t take too long.”
She nods towards the Portal, signalling us that it’s time to go through.
I take a quick look at the bundle in my hands. Jeans, a woollen jumper, and wrapped inside a down jacket are a pair of black boots. I slip into the clothes as quickly as I can, enjoying the feel of proper fabric on my skin. This robe may look pretty, but it’s not very comforting. And boots… I’ve been barefoot a lot recently, but I relish how warm and comfy they are.
The guys have changed as well; all of them have been given jeans and thick black shirts. No jackets for them, but at least they got the same boots I did. I’m feeling slightly more prepared now.
Airlea clears her throat impatiently and I take a deep breath. Last time I passed out when Alis stepped through a Portal. Was that just because of the Fates or our shift? Or will it happen again, rendering us vulnerable on the other side?
Suddenly, someone takes my hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. I turn to see Ràn. He’s smiling at me and I give him a tight smile back. We can do this.
I mean, we’re only about to jump into the middle of a group of crazy shifters. What co
uld go wrong…
Twelve
It’s cold in Canada, but it’s a different kind of cold than on Inchbrach. The air here is drier and the cold doesn’t creep into your bones as much. There’s not as much wind here, either.
A thick layer of snow covers the ground. In this moment, I’m incredibly grateful that I don’t feel the cold as much anymore as when I was still human. My new clothes are warm, but in the midst of the Canadian winter, they wouldn’t be enough to keep me warm for more than an hour.
I watch as my breath turns into little cloudlings. Yes, I’m trying to avoid reality by not looking at my surroundings. My brain is needing a moment to get used to the idea that we just jumped from Scotland to Canada via a mysterious place in the middle.
I’ve never been outside Britain before. This morning, I didn’t think I ever would. And suddenly, I’m in Canada.
It’s pretty. Thick layers of snow cover the trees around us. We’re in a gently sloped valley, surrounded by several small hills. The one right in front of us has some strange metal posts dotted on its slope; the remnants of a ski lift perhaps? On top of it is a large one-storey building, covering almost the entire hilltop. It’s mostly made from metal and concrete; it has to be one of the ugliest buildings I’ve ever seen. There’s a massive radio tower on top, but some of the satellite dishes are hanging in precarious positions. I doubt it’s still in use. The perfect place for someone like Van Deen to live.
I look around. There are no other signs of human habitation in the landscape around us, so it has to be that structure on the hill. It’s perfect for whoever lives there: they’ll be able to see strangers from miles away, especially now in winter. Which means they’ve probably seen us already.
There’s no chance of us to approach undetected, so we better hurry up.
“Shall we shift?” I ask and Torben nods.
“We’ll be faster that way. Once we’ve reached Van Deen, we can shift back so we can talk to him. Is Alis ready?”
Yes, I am. Let’s show them what we’re made of.
“Don’t take too long,” Airlea says from behind us, standing by the glistening Portal. She’s hugging herself and her skin is covered in goosebumps. While she gave us warm clothes, she’s not wearing any herself, and it seems as if she’s more susceptible to the cold than us. I almost feel sorry for her.
“We’ll try our best,” I reassure her, applauding myself for being so nice to her.
After I get undressed, I give Alis a mental nod and she shifts us. Our paws are soft on the snowy ground and I know that our fur blends in perfectly. Three of the guys aren’t so lucky. Húnn, Ràn and Finn all stand out with their brown coats. But it can’t be helped.
Not everyone can be a pretty polar bear, Alis says dismissively and I grin. Here’s my old, proud Alis, not the one drowning in despair. I know it may only be temporary, but I hope it’s enough for her to recharge her emotional batteries.
Alis starts running and the other bears follow her. The hill is quite steep, but she still manages to climb it with ease.
We’re halfway up the slope when the first bear appears from between a group of trees. He’s a polar bear like Alis, but only about half her size. His fur is mottled and dirty and his eyes have a vacant look, even from this distance. He looks ill and like he’s too thin for his fur. If that is one of the ferals, they really are no match for us. Alis could swat him away like a fly without even getting out of breath.
Then ten more step out from the undergrowth and my confidence wavers a little. They now outnumber us two to one.
We keep running, ignoring them for now. As long as they’re not attacking, they’re not worth stopping for. We need to get to the top and to Van Deen.
The hill is getting ever steeper and Alis slips more than once. Her weight is helping her sink into the snow though, giving her some added grip. As someone who’s always been quite thin, it’s strange being stuck in a big, broad bear body.
Big is beautiful, Alis tells me and I hurry to agree with her. I don’t want to upset her right now.
She looks around to check on the ferals, but they’re keeping a safe distance. Problem is, they’ve now cut off our escape route, forming a line between us and the Portal. Let’s hope Alis’s domineering thing will work for long enough to force them to let us through later on. But first, we’ve got a lunatic to catch.
The buildings come into view. This may have been a viewing station before the Drowning, a place people would come to look at the surrounding mountains. It certainly is beautiful – not the building, the landscape. There’s a lot of trees here. There are almost none on the island I grew up in, and the same is true for the other two islands I’ve explored in the past few weeks. And even if there are trees, they’re usually small and bent by the wind.
Here, there’s a variety of conifers: fir trees, spruce, some others I’m not quite sure about. Most of them are covered in thick layers of snow, bending their branches until they touch the ground. The forest around the station has been cleared though, giving us an easier approach.
Now that we’re closer, it turns out that it isn’t just one building but one larger one in the centre with several smaller ones dotted around it. Some are in a state of disrepair while others are clearly inhabited.
Strangely enough, nobody is awaiting us in front of the biggest house. I would have expected guards, especially since they must have seen us approach. Surely some of the ferals warned the people up here?
Let’s be careful, I warn Alis, but it’s not necessary. She’s treading carefully, slowly, taking in everything around her. All her senses are on high alert and I’m having trouble sorting through all the different signals.
The bears behind us have a strange scent; not that of a normal bear shifter. Alis seems confused by it.
Do they smell like Arcas? I ask her, but she mentally shakes her head.
No, nothing like him. Their scent is that of the dead.
How ominous. She doesn’t expand on that but I don’t want to distract her, so I keep quiet, watching as she slowly approaches the glass double doors that lead into the building.
Torben and Húnn flank her, while Finn and Ràn are at the back, keeping an eye on the ferals behind us.
I’m beginning to have a really bad feeling about this. Not that I ever assumed this was going to be easy, but still… this is going to be trouble.
Suddenly, there’s movement behind us and Alis whirls around, ready to fight as a group of ferals detaches from the rest, charging at us.
She growls and lifts herself up on her hind feet, towering above them all. Torben is doing the same, showing them his strength, while the other three are baring their fangs.
We must look formidable, but the ferals don’t care, they just keep running at us.
Alis, do the dominance thing! I shout, not sure how exactly it’s working.
On it, she replies with irritation and I decide to keep quiet from now on. She knows what we need to do a lot better than I do.
She lets herself drop on all fours and stares at the approaching horde. That’s all she does, staring at them with intent.
Suddenly, they stop. First, they just look at her in confusion, before the first one lowers his head, crossing his front paws in deference. Others follow suit until they’re all cowering in front of her.
She never breaks eye contact, staying in the same position.
Torben gently bumps his head against her flank to signal that they’re going to go after Van Deen now. Alis doesn’t respond, too caught up in keeping them all under control.
I can feel her struggling; there are more of them than she anticipated. She can feel at least another thirty inside the main building behind us, and some more in the smaller structures. All in all, there must be at least a hundred ferals here. Van Deen has been busy. Even though they’re smaller and weaker than Alis and my guys, they’re still strong enough to kill humans with ease. If they were let loose on the local population – if there are still people living
here – they’d surely win.
My bears run into the building, but Alis can’t turn around to watch what they’re doing; she has to stay focussed on the ferals cowering in front of her. Some of them are growling in protest, but her hold is too strong for them to resist.
After all, she’s the mother of the first bear shifter, and while she’s not a shifter herself – not really, anyway – she has power they could only dream of. She was turned into a bear by Gods; that must mean something.
Now it’s all just a waiting game. We need to keep the ferals in check while Torben and the guys look for Van Deen.
What if he’s not here? I hadn’t thought of that possibility before. He could be away from his compound. What then? This mission is looking more and more foolish with every drop of doubt seeping into my mind.
It will be fine, Alis says. I can smell someone else, someone different from these puny bears. It has to be Van Deen.
Good. At least that won’t be an issue then. But will my bears be strong enough to capture him? He’ll defend himself, ready to kill them, but they won’t be able to harm him, not without hurting Arcas. I’m on the proverbial edge of my seat, tense with worry. I can’t lose any of my men. The feeling when I thought I’d lost Húnn… I never want to experience that again. Even now, it’s painful, despite knowing that he didn’t die. That he’s still alive.
Stop worrying, it’s distracting, Alis admonishes me and I strengthen the barrier between us, trying to keep my thoughts more to myself. I can’t have her lose focus on the ferals.
I can feel how she’s burning through her energy. Please hurry up, boys.
I don’t have a watch – that would have to be a rather large one to fit around Alis’s front paw – but I guess it takes almost half an hour until the guys exit the building. Alis’s ears perk up. Five pairs of footsteps. Four of them barefoot, one booted.
Polar Fates Page 9