Beauty's Beast

by Jenna Kernan

  “Here’s Mom,” said Blake.

  Samantha opened her eyes to see her mother striding toward her, looking exhausted, but her smile warmed Samantha to the core.

  Her mother hugged Samantha and then pulled back to sit beside her in the flattened grass. Michaela Proud pushed an errant strand of hair from her child’s face.

  “I watched you and your father from the hilltop. You two are likely to frighten me to death.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” Her mother narrowed her eyes on Samantha, giving her an assessing look. “Are you?”

  Samantha nodded and looked away.

  Should she tell her mother about the pregnancy? Somehow she knew that if she spoke her fears aloud, they would gobble her up. She pressed down the panic. But what if their souls were out there on the battlefield?

  She had to go look. Maybe it was not too late. Maybe...

  “There is much to do. The Naginoka have ceased retrieving souls. They say too much time has passed. The healers are working to save the injured, and your brother and I are seeing to the humans.”

  Samantha sank back to the blankets. Too late. If they were out there they had already crossed. Samantha began to cry.

  Her mother nestled her against her breast. “Oh, child. I know you are weak, but there are those who need us. Some of Nagi’s ghosts have taken possession of the wounded humans. We have to dispossess them.”

  Samantha had waited all her life to be able to use her gifts. Now here was the chance, and she was too weak and heartsick to sit up. “I’m coming.”

  She managed to sit up and swayed only slightly.

  Her mother offered some water. Then she helped Samantha to her feet. Samantha, Blake and their mother headed for the battlefield.

  “The buffalo are helping us but Sebastian called a halt. It is no longer safe, even for them. We have to accept that not all can be saved.”

  “Are any of the Ghost Children still finding souls?” She clung to unreasonable hope, holding it like a soap bubble.

  “No. Trying to save them will only kill the buffalo. We must help them cross over.”

  Samantha walked unassisted to the battlefield and worked beside her mother, expelling evil ghosts with the help of her medicine wheel, which focused her dwindling energy.

  “Like pulling dandelions,” said her mother. “Some of them are stubborn.”

  Her mother’s smile faded when she looked carefully at her daughter.

  “We’ll manage the rest,” she said.

  Samantha shook her head, too weary to argue.

  “Go to bed, Samantha, before you fall over,” her mother ordered, using the no-nonsense tone Samantha remembered well from childhood.

  “I’m too old for you to order me to my room, Mother.”

  They continued on past sunset, the Ghost Children, the Seers and the owls. The Ghost Children were clearly better at expelling evil ghosts, but too impatient to deal with the confused souls whose bodies were beyond retrieval and who needed assistance to find the Spirit Road. Expelling Nagi’s evil ghosts from human hosts did not draw any of their energy. In fact it seemed to give them strength.

  The minutes and lives ticked away.

  The Skinwalkers, now in human form, shepherded the frightened, confused humans up the hill to the Memory Walkers and Peacemakers, who would help them return to their lives without any recollection of this terrible day.

  Samantha kept looking for Alon. When she found Aldara hurrying toward her, she rushed to meet her halfway.

  “Is Alon all right?” asked Samantha.

  “He is.”

  Samantha felt a dizzying rush of relief, and some of the tension left her shoulders and neck.

  Aldara’s eyes sought Blake, now speaking to his mother some thirty yards off.

  “I came to see that you are all right,” said Aldara and then swept Samantha’s body with her gaze as if checking for injuries, lingering at her middle before meeting her eyes once more. The look was not sexual but certainly intrusive. Samantha frowned.

  Aldara knew. Samantha was certain. She met the Ghostling’s eyes.

  “Am I?” whispered Samantha.

  Aldara nodded.

  “They’re still here?” Samantha pressed both hands to her flat abdomen.

  Aldara nodded. “I returned their souls myself.”

  Samantha threw herself into Aldara’s arms and felt the Halfling stiffen.

  She drew back. “Thank you, Aldara.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. None of our mothers ever survived our births.”

  “Humans.”

  Aldara nodded. “But I would stay with you until your time to be certain you survive.”

  Samantha smiled and squeezed Aldara’s hand. “Yes. I’d appreciate that.” She stared toward the Ghostlings’ camp. “Does he know?”

  The quick shake of her head sent her feathery hair flying. “He’d come back if you tell him of the babies.”

  Samantha looked away. “I won’t use them to hold him.”

  Aldara’s gaze drifted back to Blake. “Tell your brother that I’ve finished my work here and I would like to see him before we go.”

  Go?

  Dread settled over Samantha as she realized what this meant. Alon had seen her safe and had seen her to her parents. His obligation was finished.

  A buzz of apprehension grew in Samantha’s belly. What if he never came back?

  Chapter 19

  Alon had received Nicholas Chien in his tent and declined the offer to join the Skinwalkers at council the following evening, but tendered an offer that Sebastian was welcome in his camp and guaranteed him safe passage.

  At sunrise, Samantha’s father, Sebastian, the War Chief of the Skinwalkers, arrived at their camp. He was escorted to Alon, who had slept little and was now organizing the fifty-some surviving Ghostlings to bury their dead. Just entering their camp showed his courage, for many here hated the Skinwalkers for their hunts of newborns.

  Alon met him before the gathering of the Betas, Gammas and the new Delta Pack. Sebastian again requested that Alon and four others of his choosing accompany the Skinwalkers to council that evening.

  “Who wishes our company?” asked Alon.

  “I do. My people do.”

  “But not the Spirit Children?” asked Alon.

  Sebastian blew out a breath. “My son has convinced the council chiefs that it is safer to have you as an ally.”

  “Than an enemy?” Alon finished.

  “You are invited to meet with both Niyanoka and Ianoka. It is my hope you will accept.”

  “The last time I spoke to your son he told me that we were not welcome here and that he could not prevent his people from killing mine. Now that we have won the battle for him, he invites me to parlay.”

  “Your actions have proved us all wrong. We owe the victory to you and your people.” Sebastian followed this with an inclination of his head, a salute of sorts.

  “Nagi is defeated. The Spirit Children and the Skinwalkers have no more need of us and we have none for them.”

  The gathering muttered their approval of this.

  “I am grieved,” said Sebastian. “But I will deliver your message.”

  Alon waited but the great bear did not depart. At last he spoke again.

  “I am in your debt for guarding my daughter and for saving her soul—all of our souls. Should you ever need my help or assistance, you need only ask.”

  “I have one request,” he said, wishing he could ask about Samantha but knowing he could not. He had hurt her enough already. “Please tell our parents, Cesar Garza and Bess Suncatcher, that we love them and respect all they have done for us, but we are not returning to them. From here forward, the Ghost Children will gather our own orphans and raise them. We will teach them what they must know.”

  “If that is your wish. I will deliver your message.” Sebastian continued to speak, raising his voice so the others could hear. “So with respect, I ask that you tell the Ghost Chil
dren that the Skinwalkers are your allies. Those who formed vigilante groups to attack your young will be brought to justice and their cowardly actions condemned.”

  Alon turned to the gathering. “Objections?”

  None spoke so he turned back to Sebastian, also raising his voice to be heard. “We will respect your word, Sebastian, for we saw you fight bravely while the Niyanoka hid behind their earthen wall. We accept the alliance with your people. Tell them that we will teach our descendants to respect the Balance and not to hunt the Skinwalkers, even when they are in animal form. Tell the Niyanoka, if you care to speak to them, that we will not attack the humans they protect. But we have no accord with them and advise that they keep their distance.”

  “I will tell them.” Sebastian offered his hand.

  The men shook. Alon was surprised at Sebastian’s grip and the fierceness in his eyes. Alon knew Sebastian would make both an imposing ally and a terrible foe. The War Chief of the Skinwalkers turned and left the camp, alone as he had entered it.

  Aldara moved to stand beside Alon. “Are you sure you don’t want to see her again?”

  He gave her an exasperated look.

  “But she said she wants to see you.”

  “She’s a healer and I reap evil ghosts. It’s over.”

  “But she’s—”

  He held up his hand and she stopped speaking. Silence stretched. His arm dropped heavily to his side. After several ragged breaths he managed to find his voice, but it was a weak and strangled thing.

  “She told me.” He swallowed back the self-loathing. “She wants to use her powers. If she stays with me, they will banish her, too. I can’t do that to her. I want her to find her true soul mate. Can you understand? That’s not me.” His head hung. “It can’t be.”

  Now it was Aldara’s turn to fire off a condemning stare.

  “Are you coming with us?” he asked her.

  Her jaw was set and her eyes blazed with blue fire. “No, I’m not.”

  “Aldara, he doesn’t want you.”

  She glared. “I know that. I’m not going to him, but I’m not going with you, either.”

  “Where then?”

  “I’m staying with Samantha.”

  Which made no sense at all. Was this a hopeless effort to reach Blake through his twin?

  “We’re leaving tonight, with you or without you.”

  * * *

  Blake sat at the council table with the four chiefs of the Niyanoka. As each spoke, his heart sank more and more. None saw that the way they had invited the Ghostlings to parlay was insulting. Rather they were offended that Alon had refused their summons.

  He waited in the circle until the talking stick was passed to him, for only the one holding the stick could speak and it was rude to hold it for too long. He gripped the handle, which was covered with seed beads, their pattern forming a cross to represent the four directions. He stared for a moment at the coyote skull, festooned with a feather, glass beads and hanks of horse hair wrapped in bits of bright red cloth, as he gathered his thoughts.

  Blake stood, holding the talking stick in two hands.

  “We have won a great battle. Nagi has retreated to his Circle and will think long and hard before coming again to our Living World.”

  Several nodded their approval of this.

  “We acknowledge the bravery of our people and the Skinwalkers in this fight. But the victory goes to the Ghost Children.”

  Blake gripped the stick, knowing that what he was about to say would ruin his chances of becoming a leader of the Niyanoka, but he would say it anyway because it was right.

  “We have not acknowledged the part the Ghost Children played in the victory against Nagi. None of our people went to their camp. None thanked them for saving us all. And then we are outraged that Alon will not be summoned like a hound. They fought against their sire to save us all. It is a disgrace to pretend otherwise. This council will meet with the Skinwalkers in only a few hours, making this a historic day. But this council cannot ignore the third Halfling race, who has surely earned a place at the peace talks. We must send a delegation to the Ghostlings before it is too late.”

  He handed over the stick to Chief Rice, who said, “I will not go to these terrors. They have the power to steal our souls. Going to their camp would be suicide.”

  He passed the stick to the next. Each member refused to send representatives to the Ghost Children. Blake waited for the unanimous vote rejecting his proposal. When the stick returned to him, he rose once more.

  “I resign my candidacy for any position for which I might be considered. If the Niyanoka will not go to the Ghost Children, then I will go myself to thank them for their part in this battle and the victory that they have earned. I renounce my citizenship and all rights. I am proud to have led the Spirit Children in battle, but I am not proud now.”

  He passed on the talking stick and left the circle.

  No one spoke.

  Outside, the sun was fast setting, though the days were slowly growing longer as spring crept toward summer. Blake found his father, Sebastian, waiting alone in the twilight. Blake saw his deep blue aura capped with rusty brown before he even saw his silhouette.

  “Brave words and ones to make a father proud,” said Sebastian.

  “Too little too late,” muttered Blake. These were words he should have said before the battle.

  “What is it, son?”

  “Before the fight, Aldara stayed with me, protected me from attacks by Nagi’s ghosts. When her brother suggested an alliance with the Niyanoka, I told them both that I could not jeopardize the agreement with the Skinwalkers by including the Ghost Children.”

  “You were right. The Skinwalkers would have withdrawn and the alliance would have crumbled. As it is, we may form a new treaty.”

  “I was wrong. This is why Alon will not come. He tried to bring us all together before the battle and I said no. Now that they have brought us the win, now that we see what they are capable of, only now we seek them out. It is a double insult.”

  “You did what you thought was right. Now you feel differently. So you will act differently.”

  Blake gripped his hair at both temples and tugged. “But I knew it was wrong at the time. I felt it and I still rejected her.”

  His father peered at him. “Her?”

  Blake dragged his hands over his face before meeting his father’s inquiring gaze.

  “Dad, Aldara was more than my bodyguard.”

  His father’s expression registered momentary shock, but he recovered quickly, rubbing his neck as he looked away. “I see.”

  “And I kept her hidden, like some dirty little secret. She left me. I don’t blame her. I deserved it, but now that she’s gone, I realize how much she means to me. I don’t want to lose her, but I already have.”

  His father rested a hand on his son’s shoulder, offering silent support as Blake struggled to find a way to win her back.

  “If I went to the Ghost camp, if I found her, do you think she would listen to me?” asked Blake.

  “I only know that if you don’t go, she will never know that you are sorry.” His father squeezed the muscles of Blake’s shoulder. “Do you love this woman?”

  “She is the bravest, most wonderful woman in the world.”

  His father gave a laugh. “No, son. That would be your mother.”

  Blake smiled, suddenly grasping what his parents shared and wanting that for himself.

  “I love her, Dad. I just want her to forgive me.”

  Something flashed before them. Sebastian roared and pressed a hand to his chest, calling the change. An instant later his father took animal form. But Blake did not follow him, for he recognized the flash of greenish light and waited. It was a Ghostling, changing form.

  A moment later Aldara appeared naked in her human shape and threw herself into Blake’s arms. His father reared up and then huffed.

  “Dad, this is Aldara.”

  His father blew out a breath
and then lumbered off.

  “You heard?” Blake asked, hugging her, willing her to never leave him again.

  “Yes, yes, everything. What you said at council and what you said to your father. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “I didn’t know. I only...it only sunk into my thick skull when I saw you fighting. I was so scared I’d lose you. It made me realize that I couldn’t live without you and that you were right about everything.”

  She drew back to stare at him, still clinging like a monkey, her legs locked about his waist and her hands laced behind his neck.

  “You really love me?”

  In answer, he lowered his head and kissed her. When they both came up for air, Aldara allowed him to set her gently on her feet. He removed his blazer, shook it and offered her a lovely lavender cape, made of wool, lined in satin and trimmed in soft wolf fur. She slipped it on, grinning, and slid her arms through the slits so she could grasp hold of his shirt with both fists.

  “I don’t want you to lose all that you worked for, just for me,” said Aldara, her expression now earnest.

  “I worked for a victory. It’s done. From now on I will do what I choose, and I choose to make you my wife, if you will be willing to marry a Seer who somehow could not see that the best thing in his life is you.”

  Aldara started to cry. But she nodded her acceptance and managed to say, “Yes.”

  Blake took her away from the Spirit Children and the Skinwalkers and the Ghostlings, traveling over the open plains to a spot on a hilltop with a view of the sunset and later of the whole wide universe. This time their joining held the sweetness of two who understand that such a union is made from the most intimate kind of worship. Afterward, when they lay upon the grass, their bodies still flushed and damp from their exertion, Aldara recalled something.

  “How is Samantha?”

  “She slept most of the day away. I checked on her at noon and she still slumbered. She is recovering, but very weak. Jessie Healy Chien is visiting her dreams, and my mother is with her. I’m sure she will feel stronger when she wakes.”

  “Alon sent her away. He thinks he is not suitable for her.”

  Blake said nothing to this.