by Kat Zaccard
“What prevented it?”
“My mother; she said she wanted me to make my own choice in life and love.”
“That’s beautiful.” I felt a twist of envy in my gut.
“Yeah, I guess, except I almost wish she’d signed the document.”
“Do you really? I mean…” I gestured toward the couples again.
“I know. And I see what you’re facing with Logan and Jillian. It’s just”—she sighed—“it’s just a fantasy, I guess.”
“Sometimes I wonder if that’s all love is really, a fantasy that we convince ourselves is true.”
“Oh, Alice, you’re too young to be that bitter.”
I grinned at her. “You too.”
We pinkie swore that we would be strong, independent women who waited for real love. It was funny explaining the pinkie-swear to Fanya. She seemed perplexed by the odd ritual but happy to have a partner in despair. I tried explaining the Americanized version of Galentine’s Day, when you hang out with your best girlfriends instead of a date. Fanya just laughed and said how silly we were. I didn’t mind the teasing. I was happy she had cheered up a bit.
Chapter 23
That weekend, I asked Hayley, Sara, Fanya, and Shea if they wanted to schedule time in the arena to go over some of our latest moves. Fanya had been working tirelessly to translate the old book Gwendolyn had given us, and we were itching to test some of the maneuvers.
I also needed to get in some target practice. I enjoyed the methodic rhythm of shooting arrows. Breathe in, draw, aim, exhale, and shoot. I sometimes looked at the photo I’d snapped of my birth mother’s statue, imagining her life. Headmaster Giovanni had told me that she’d been a master archer. I felt a weird impulse to be as good as if not better than the queen who might have raised me. I wasn’t quite sure if it was an homage or a competition. Either way, my aim was improving.
I was polishing my new long bow while Fanya filled us in on her research.
“It’s definitely a training manual on dealing with upyr. But it’s written for witches not wolves. The first few sections seem to be potions and spells that won’t do us any good, even if we had the ingredients.”
“True, but they might help Gwendolyn. We can email Fanya’s translations to her,” suggested Shea.
“That’s a good idea … but definitely focus on the werewolf bits.” Sara made a go-on gesture.
“There’s a section on working with a pack. Again, it’s all from a witch’s perspective, so it doesn’t quite give the details a werewolf would.”
“The illustrations are pretty good, though,” piped up Hayley, snatching the book from Fanya’s hands. “I think we can still learn a lot from this,” she added, thumbing through a few pages.
“Indeed,” responded Fanya, taking the book gently out of Hayley’s grip. “This section here shows six wolves attacking a single upyr. They seem to take turns in groups of three. Three hold the perimeter, while the other three seem to vary their attack, taking turns to strike and shifting the order to throw the upyr off guard.”
“Wow, you did get a lot out of this so far.” Even Sara was impressed.
We continued to discuss strategy and defense tactics. We put our ideas to practice and took turns playing the upyr while the other three attacked. I silently grumbled that this would be easier if we had our full pack but didn’t want to bring up the absence of Damka.
In the locker room, Sara and I were the last to finish showering and changing. Hayley, Shea, and Fanya had already headed back to the Artemis dorms. I was toweling off my hair when I noticed Sara sitting by herself holding something.
“Everything okay, Sara?”
“Yeah sure.” She shrugged without looking at me. “The others wanted to head back, so I said I’d wait for you.”
“Thanks.” I’d taken longer than the rest since I’d had to put away my bow and arrows after training. I looked over Sara’s shoulder. She was holding a photograph of her and Lola. It looked like one we’d taken at the beginning of the school year on the bluffs. They had their arms around each other and were smiling wide into the camera. The surrounding scenery was beautiful but didn’t compare to the joy on their faces. Sara never looked as happy as when she was with Lola.
A moment passed, and I noticed a tear slide down her nose and onto the picture. “Shit!” she swore as she tried to wipe the tear away without damaging the photo.
I sat next to Sara and put my arm around her shoulders. “What’s up, Sara?”
“She dumped me!” Sara wailed. I couldn’t believe it. I was stunned.
“What? How?”
“It was after Valentine’s Day. We’d been fighting about…”
“About me?” I guessed.
“Yeah, sort of,” Sara admitted. “She’s been all upset about the Fur Patrol. She’s irrationally jealous!” I bit my cheek thinking they were both pretty protective of each other.
“What happened?” I didn’t want to pry, but I knew from experience that talking about it usually helped.
“She’s been bent out of shape about the extra moon days. So she’s combing her history books for evidence of alpha powers. And we’ve been arguing about all the extra training time. I think she’s scared I’ll get hurt. I think her plan is to distance herself from me because she thinks I’ll leave her.”
“But you wouldn’t!”
“I don’t know. I mean, I’d never leave, leave her, but I had considered applying for the Royal Guard after your coronation.”
“You had?” I was surprised. I guess I knew where I was headed after high school, but my friends still had the privilege and the responsibility to make their own big life decisions.
“Yeah, well, what’s all this training for if not to protect you and fight the upyr?”
“But that’s a ways off…”
“Not really, Alice; you’ll be Queen within a year. Do you think Christina will hold back her band of upyr assassins after that?”
I was startled by the obviousness of Sara’s words. Perhaps I’d been too naïve, trying to pretend I could just have a normal junior year with my friends then waltz over to the palace and sit on the throne. Okay, I wouldn’t waltz; maybe Orange Justice.
“Lola wants to go to college obviously. She’d make a great history professor,” Sara went on.
“But that doesn’t mean you have to break up,” I reasoned.
“I know that! Try telling her that!” Sara dissolved into tears again. I took the photograph and set it on the bench next to us to prevent her from crushing it to her chest. I held her while she cried. Sara was never vulnerable in front of anyone but Lola. I felt so bad for their breakup. I also felt guilty. I knew my alpha influence was a big part of the problem. Lola resented my time with Sara and thought I was using my powers to keep her with me.
I started for a moment. I couldn’t do that unconsciously, could I? No, I would never keep them apart. I’d do anything to bring them back together; and said so.
“Don’t do anything, Alice.” Sara sniffed. “Lola won’t take it the right way. She just needs… space.” She whispered the last word as more tears fell.
Chapter 24
February zipped by, and March was upon us, bringing more cold, rain, and snow along with cloudy, dreary days. We had a full moon run coming up, and the powers-that-be had agreed to allow for a game of Capture-the-flag. Extra Slivers were patrolling the playing field and we all swore by the Great Queen that we wouldn’t go out of bounds. Our curfew and restrictions were still in place, but so much time had passed since the last dead animal that most were starting to feel safe on campus again.
I was excited for the game but nervous that I didn’t have the loyalty of my full team. Hayley and Pamela were chosen as captains and they started picking teams. I was sad when Pamela picked Damka and then Lola, preventing them from being on our side. Sara glared at Hayley for not picking Lola over her on her first round, but Hayley shrugged. She wanted to win.
We strategized before the whistle ble
w. Then we were off. It felt so good to run with the pack! We left Fanya and a few others to guard the flag while Hayley, Sara, and I led our group out across the playing field. We were determined to find their flag first!
We got separated in the commotion as the oncoming team tried to head us off the trail. I saw Lola confront Sara, hunkered down and growling. Sara paused, yet I knew she wouldn’t battle Lola no matter the cause. I sighed and decided she was pretty much out of the game.
Hayley rounded the corner with Pamela hot on her heels. Get the flag! Behind that rock outcropping. She projected the thought loudly at me.
Ever since I mentioned the telepathy to Hayley last year, she would mentally shout things to me that I could pick up just fine without the volume. I supposed that was how deaf people felt while reading lips when hearing people slowed and shouted their words to them. I smiled a wolfish grin, knowing she meant well. Pamela had darted after Hayley, so I knew now was my chance.
I made my way to an outcropping and spotted the red team’s flag. There was only one werewolf guarding it. I could totally do this! I stepped closer and paused. Great, that one wolf happened to be Jillian. I knew from experience that Jillian would fight dirty, but I was determined to beat her without using my telepathy. I had to be strong enough without it. After all, it wouldn’t work on the upyr either.
I darted past Jillian and snatched the flag in my teeth, preparing to run. Jillian tackled me, and we rolled through the dirt and brush. I hit the outcropping with a crunch. Ouch! That hurt my shoulder. I got up and shook myself out, head to tail. Jillian bared her teeth at me, growling with menace. I still had the flag in my mouth, but my back was against a solid rock wall. I had to get past Jillian to win.
I feinted left but darted right. Jillian anticipated my move and pounced. We grappled as wolves, rolling through snow and snapping at each other. We weren’t supposed to really bite or claw each other, but Jillian did her best to mark me. I felt a nip on my flank and swung around with a bark, dropping the flag. Jillian snatched it up and backed away. I pounced on her and we rolled again. I accidentally stepped on her rib, and she let go with a whimper. I stopped, suddenly unsure that we were alone. I scanned the scenery but didn’t see anyone. Jillian used my moment of distraction to attack me once more. I scrambled back but stopped at the edge of a steep slope. If I wasn’t careful, I could fall back and seriously hurt myself.
The only way out of this mess was through Jillian. I faced off with her. I felt the angry red and orange fury radiating off of her. I tried not to use my telepathy, but she was projecting strongly. Again I paused, sensing another life on the bluff. I reached out with my senses, and my eyes widened. There was another brain signature, I was certain of it.
Caught unawares, Jillian slammed into me, pushing me off the ledge. I fell with a howl that turned into a scream as I shifted mid-air by accident. In a split second, many things occurred to me at once, ending with a sickening crack as I hit the ground and slid the rest of the way down the snowy slope. I saw the outline of Jillian’s wolf standing above me on the ledge. Then everything went dark.
◆◆◆
I awoke some time later in the hospital wing. I groaned as I turned my head to look out the window. The early light of dawn was peeking through the curtains. A nurse bustled in to inform me that I had a concussion and a slight fracture in my arm.
“You’re lucky it was a minor fracture and not a compound break,” he admonished. “Your wolf will heal you up in no time.” The nurse smiled and took my vitals before heading off. I drifted off into a medicine-induced sleep.
I woke up again sometime later when Hayley plopped on my bed. I blinked my eyes open and focused on her smiling face surrounded by Shea, Sara, and Fanya.
“Hey! You’re alive!” Hayley said.
“Don’t joke,” scolded Sara, then to me, “You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”
“Let her be, Sara. She feels bad enough that we lost.”
I turned to Shea. “We lost?” I whined.
Sara rolled her eyes, Shea looked concerned, but Fanya laughed. “You don’t remember?” Fanya asked. “When we brought you to the infirmary last night you kept whining about the flag. I told you we’d lost.”
“Pamela got our flag.” Hayley hung her head in shame. “But to be fair, we all heard your howl and came running. Pamela stayed behind to win the game.”
“Of course she did,” I muttered. “I can’t believe we lost.”
“Should we be concerned she doesn’t remember this from last night?” Shea asked no one in particular.
“Nah, it’s likely due to the concussion. She’ll be fine.” Sara was back to business as usual.
“Well, I’m disappointed too,” complained Fanya. “I wanted to win.”
“Me too,” grumbled Hayley. She gave me a sympathetic look. “Don’t worry, there will be other games. Though, honestly, I’m surprised Jillian beat you.”
I looked away, I couldn’t tell them the truth, not yet. “Yeah well, she caught me off guard.” It wasn’t a lie.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Shea. “Just worry about getting better. The doctor says you’ll be here for a week.”
“A week!”
“Don’t worry; I’ll bring you your homework,” reassured Sara.
“Yeah, that’s what I was worried about,” I deadpanned. I was missing the next few nights of the full moon and after. I would also miss a lot of training. All because of stupid Jillian; I paused at that thought, poor Jillian was more accurate.
“What will I do all week? I’m already bored and my arm itches.”
“That’s a good sign; it means you’re healing.”
“Thank you, Dr. Shea,” I snarked.
“Who knows? Maybe someday!” Shea grinned, ignoring my sarcasm. She walked over to the bookshelves on the far wall and began perusing the books. “Maybe I can find you something good to read.”
The other girls were filling me in on the rest of the game and the aftermath, when Shea gave an excited yip. “You guys come here! You gotta see this!”
“You guys!” I whined as they all left my bedside to trot over to Shea. I heard surprised exclamations and whispered excitement. “What is it? What’s going on?” I complained again.
Shea hurried back with a slim volume in her hand. It looked like an ordinary journal. “Alice, look at this!” She opened the front cover to show me.
It was a handwritten journal dated over twenty years ago. The name scrawled in the top left corner in loopy cursive read: Cordelia Cope.
“How is this possible?”
The other girls joined us, each with a similar volume in their hand. “She was a midwife and then a doctor here at Mount Henley. These must be her private medical journals!” Sara reasoned as she paged through a book. “Here she talks about a bad flu, and here she describes the birth of a baby in Dryden. Blech!” she finished with a disgusted face. “There are pictures.”
I wanted to see, but the nurse returned to shoo my friends out of the room. Visiting hours were over. Shea slipped me one of the volumes to read. Then they filed out, each hiding a journal behind their backs.
Over the next week, my friends visited me daily. We took turns reading the journals, returning them to their shelf before taking a new one, so hopefully, no one noticed a few were missing. I was sick of reading about lanced boils and poison ivy. I wanted to know about my birth parents. My arm was mending, but it itched terribly. It didn’t help that I was also itching to shift. But I couldn’t even get out of bed to pee without the nurses swarming. I had to be patient.
By the time I was released from the hospital wing, we were no closer to any answers. Cordelia Cope took meticulous notes that only Shea found fascinating; the rest of us found them tedious. We were gathered in a parlor one evening, when Hayley gave a shout.
“Holy Great Queen Mother!” she exclaimed.
“What is it?” We all swarmed her. Hayley’s face said it all. She flipped the book around to show us the han
d-drawn image of a werewoman giving birth. The werewoman was standing, supported by two birthing assistants, while a baby’s legs and torso hung between the woman’s legs.
“Is just his head inside?” asked Fanya.
“He’s just dangling from his neck!” exclaimed Shea, far more excited than the rest of us.
“It’s describing a breech birth,” explained Hayley. “Apparently, this is how it’s done.”
“And that’s normal?” Sara gagged.
“Yep, according to Dr. Cope, this birth went perfectly, and mother and baby were both fine.”
“Wow.” We collectively sighed. As teenage werewomen, the idea of giving birth was daunting. It looked more like magic than shifting did at this point.
“You guys, we’ve been through all the journals we snuck out before I got released. How are we going to get back in to fetch the rest?”
“Hey, I don’t fetch anything,” teased Hayley. We all laughed.
“What if I go ask for migraine medicine or something?” suggested Fanya.
“What if they want to run a bunch of tests or something?” asked Sara with a wrinkle between her freckled brow.
“What does it matter? It’s a minor inconvenience to swap a few more journals. Shea can come with me and make the switch while the nurses and doctors are focused on me.” Fanya grinned, obviously pleased with herself. She sat up a little straighter, trying to appear larger than her diminutive frame.
“Pretty sneaky.” Hayley groomed an imaginary beard. “I like it!” she finished with a clap.
We were satisfied with the plan, and to our credit, it went off without a hitch. Over the next week, we each took turns coming up with excuses to visit the hospital wing. Sara had a phantom splinter in her finger. Hayley claimed she twisted her ankle in practice but kept forgetting which one was supposed to be injured. Shea said she needed her tonsils checked when she swore her throat was sore. Werewolves rarely get sick, so this had the unfortunate consequence of raising alarm bells. Shea had to quickly feign a miraculous recovery to get out of there. After that, she wouldn’t go back, and whenever I did, Nurse Ellis kept inquiring after her. We were running out of excuses, considering that werewolves were generally healthy and fast-healers by nature. I drew the line at letting Hayley punch my nose.