by Kelli Kimble
“I think we can’t escape it,” I said. “But it’s what I want. I believe that Mr. Anu can help me reach my full potential. And I believe that he’ll help you, too. Don’t you want to be important? Don’t you want to be in these books when you die?” I brandished a history book at him. “We’re ordinary without him.”
“I need to talk to Mr. Anu for a minute. Alone.” He went to the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” Tessa asked him.
“To find Mr. Anu. Don’t worry, I won’t be long.”
The kitchen door opened and closed. “That boy is never going to finish his schooling at this rate,” Tessa grumbled to Mother.
“He seems to be doing all right to me,” she said.
I opened the textbook that Tessa had left for our assignment. The words ran together, swimming from one side of the page to the other. Frustrated, I pushed it away and went to the kitchen. Mother and Tessa were cleaning up the breakfast dishes.
“Have you spoken to Mr. Finch today?” I asked.
Mother’s face changed as if a storm cloud had been drawn across her features. “I did. He had nothing new to say. Sheriff Stone is insisting that he has evidence, but he isn’t sharing it yet.”
“How can he do that? Is that legal?”
Tessa gave me a reassuring smile. “I’m sure Mr. Finch is doing all that he can.”
Mother dropped a pan into the dishwater, sloshing water all over her dress. “Oh, my. I’ll be back in a moment.” She pointed at the sink. “Leave that be, it needs to soak.”
Tessa nodded, though I’m certain it didn’t cross her mind to touch it. “I know you’re worried about your father, Iris. We’re all praying for him,” she said.
“Thank you,” I said. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”
“Not at all.”
“Did Mr. Anu offer you anything? Beyond the tutoring?”
“I help around the house.”
“No, I know you do that. I meant . . . did he tell you he could give you any Anubian abilities?”
“Oh.” Her eyes pinched together. “He said I was too old for him to change me. Which is disappointing, I would have jumped at the chance for that opportunity.”
“Maybe you could convince your brother.”
“Kal? He won’t listen to me. He thinks he’s the king of the world.”
“I meant Jacob.”
Mother returned wearing a fresh dress. “That’s better.”
“You look lovely, Mother,” I said.
“Thank you, this is your father’s favorite . . .” her face crumpled.
I hugged her. “We’ll get him home, Mother. I promise.”
Jacob came in, letting in a gust of cold air. “Iris,” he said, spotting me. “Mr. Anu needs our help at the barn.” He looked beyond me to Mother and Tessa. “If she can be spared, of course?”
“You should be doing your assignments,” Tessa said. “I’m not giving you extra time.”
“What are you going to do? Hold me back a grade?” Jacob asked. He held an arm out for me to steady myself while I put on my shoes. “Get your jacket. It’s cold.”
I slid my arms into the jacket I had hanging from the hooks beside the door.
“I expect those papers to be done by noon,” Tessa called to us as we went outside.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Not what’s wrong. We’re going to the barn. Mr. Anu is going to perform the ceremony.”
“He is? Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure.” He flashed me a grin, grabbed my hand and started running towards the barn.
“What has you so excited?”
“He told me something that changed my mind, is all.”
“What could he have told you to get this kind of urgency?” We’d arrived at the barn, but the big doors were shut against the cold temperatures. We went around the side to the man-sized door.
He put a hand on the latch. “I can’t tell you. But it’s gonna be great.” He let out a whoop, then let go of the handle to dip me into a kiss. “Great.”
* * *
Mr. Anu stood before us in his true form, the dark fur that covered his jackal head making his expression unreadable. He’d removed his modern clothing and instead wore something that looked like a linen skirt with a heavy metal belt over the top that had designs mirroring the ones on his bracelets, anklets, and necklace. His body was muscular and hairless, and his dark skin shimmered in the light of a kerosene lamp on the table.
We were in the cellar of the barn, though I hadn’t realized there was one. It was damp, smelled of old leather, dirt, and urine, and I could hear something scratching in the corner. It was not a pleasant place. But I didn’t mind.
Before he’d changed his form, he’d positioned Jacob and me in the center of the floor, on our knees. “When I tell you, you will lean forward, like this,” he demonstrated. He reached his palms out as far as they could go and pressed his forehead into the floor. “You may not look at me until I tell you to rise. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” We said it in unison, which seemed both like an annoying cute couple thing and a creepy ritual thing.
Mr. Anu moved the lamp to the center of the table. He picked up a bowl that fit perfectly in his cupped hands and lifted it up, murmuring words that I couldn’t understand. He set it down and produced a knife, which he also lifted and spoke words over.
“It is time for you to lean forward — and do not look up.”
We assumed the position. Grit on the stone floor bit into my forehead. I listened with every fiber of my body, but I couldn’t hear anything. The lamplight flickered on the floor.
A new smell mixed with the other scents. It was tangy and smelled like copper.
Blood.
“Rise to your feet, my children,” Mr. Anu said. Though I hadn’t heard him move, he was now standing right in front of us, in between my hands and Jacob’s. I stood up. He had a cut across his left breast, roughly over where his heart was. I started to exclaim, but he silenced me with a look.
He rubbed his thumb into the bowl and swiped it first across my forehead and then Jacob’s. He chanted something, and then he touched the bowl to my lips.
“Drink.”
I closed my eyes and tried to convince myself that the smell of blood was coming from the cut on his chest and not from the bowl. He tipped the bowl, and the liquid inside pooled against my lips. I gathered my courage and opened my mouth just enough for a sip. Mr. Anu tipped the bowl higher, and I was forced to gulp more down. The bowl moved away, and I opened my eyes. The light from the lamp seemed to be floating around the room. The cut on Mr. Anu’s chest was closing, as tiny fingers of skin crept across the division to knit together with the other side.
Laughing, I fell to my knees and sat back on my haunches. I felt light and free, but also tethered to the ground. I waved a hand in front of my eyes, and a trail of flesh seemed to follow my movement. What was wrong with me?
Mr. Anu chanted more nonsensical words, then moved to stand in front of Jacob. He repeated the process, forcing Jacob to drink gulps from the bowl, as well. Mr. Anu took the bowl and went back to the other side of the table, chanting the whole way. Jacob had collapsed and was lying on his side, looking at me. His eyeballs alternated from small to large and back to small again, making him look more like a cartoon than a person.
“Iris. Rise and come forth. Make your sacrifice and the ritual will be complete.”
I got my feet underneath me and approached the table. I was worried about whatever the sacrifice was going to be, but also trying hard to stay upright because the room was tilting to the side. I set my hands on the table to stop the motion.
“Iris Hond, is it your wish to reach your full potential, to walk beside me, Anubis, as an Anubian?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Then close your eyes to produce your sacrifice.”
My heart skipped a beat, but I closed my eyes. The room was getting warm — intensely warm. I wa
nted to pull off my clothes and lie on the cool floor. Mr. Anu began chanting, and I started to relax somewhat. What was this sacrifice? I felt a strange thump on my chest, and I swayed. Had Mr. Anu struck me? Against his instructions, I opened my eyes. Something was sticking out of my chest — a piece of metal.
“Oh,” I said. I touched it. It didn’t move. “Mr. Anu?”
But he didn’t answer. “Jacob. Rise and come forth. Make your sacrifice and the ritual will be complete.”
I tried to catch Jacob’s eye, to get him to look at whatever was sticking out of me. But his eyes were latched on Mr. Anu. He came to the table beside me.
“Jacob Cucciolo, is it your wish to reach your full potential, to walk beside me, Anubis, as an Anubian?”
“Yes, sir,” he said.
“Then close your eyes to produce your sacrifice.” Mr. Anu lifted his hands together and raised them above his head. In the dark, it was hard to tell, but he was holding something shiny. Without warning, he rammed his arms downward, thumping something against Jacob.
“Oof. What was that?” Jacob asked, opening his eyes.
“It is done. As partners, you shall enter into this together. Jacob, withdraw the dagger from Iris’s heart. And Iris, you do the same for him.”
“You . . . you stabbed us?” I took a slight step back. Sounds were assaulting me from every direction . . . but not from within.
My heart isn’t beating.
Jacob grasped the handle of the dagger sticking out of my chest and pulled. Somewhere in my head, I noticed that I wasn’t in any pain, but the dagger was demanding all my attention. He pulled again, harder this time, and it budged only a little. Finally, he clasped it with both hands and yanked it free. He held it up in the light of the kerosene lamp. It was only four or five inches long, with a curved blade that dripped blood. Jacob dropped it on the table, and it clattered about, flicking blood droplets at me.
“Iris. Your turn.”
I gaped at Jacob. He looked as astonished as I felt, but he’d at least been able to take instruction from Mr. Anu. I shook my head, trying to clear it of all the noise and sensation. Jacob took my hand and put it over the hilt of the dagger in his chest. “Pull, Iris.”
I closed my fingers over it and yanked as hard as I could. It came free easier than mine had, and I stumbled back a step before regaining my balance.
“I don’t understand,” I said, staring at the weapon in my hand. “Are we dead?”
“Of course not,” Mr. Anu said. “The daggers only stop your heart momentarily. Your wounds have already begun to heal. If you listen carefully, you’ll be able to pick out the stirrings of it beginning to beat again.”
I concentrated but couldn’t hear it. The sound of everything in the room had been magnified. There were bugs chewing through the wooden beams above us. Outside, the chickens scratched at the ground. The kerosene roared as it was drawn up the wick to burn. I closed my eyes to give myself a break, but then the smells reared up.
Blood. Urine. Feces. Mildew. Hay. Kerosene. Grease. I clasped a hand over my nose, but it wasn’t enough.
“Iris. You’re all right. You just can’t hear it over everything else.”
I opened my eyes. Jacob was sitting on the floor. He’d unbuttoned his shirt and was inspecting the wound. My hand flew to my own wound. I expected to find a hole seeping blood. But there was just the mess from where I’d bled before the hole healed, and the raised line of a scar.
“Why didn’t you tell us about this?”
Mr. Anu smiled. “Would you have done it, if you knew I was going to do that?”
“Of course not. I’m not an idiot,” I said. I pushed past Mr. Anu and knelt beside Jacob. “Are you alright? Is your heart beating?”
“Yeah,” he said. He tipped his head back and smiled. “We did it.”
“We did. So, Mr. Anu, how do we bring out this alternate form?”
Chapter 19
Jacob was covered from head to foot in dark brown fur. His face was elongated into a snout, and his sharp teeth gleamed in the dim light of the barn cellar. His ears were broad at their base and stood erect in a perfect triangle, tinged inside with lighter fur.
He raised a hand tipped with large claws and scratched at his ear. “You’ve just got to relax,” he said. His words were somewhat distorted by the shape of his mouth, but I understood well enough.
“Easy for you to say. You turned on your first try.”
“You’ll get it, Iris. Don’t worry.”
I tightened the belt on my robe, self-conscious of being naked beneath. Once my alternate form became apparent, I could easily remove the robe. Mr. Anu had assured us that clothes with buttons and zippers wouldn’t fare so well under our claws.
“Try to focus on something happy. Tell me a moment when you were happy.”
I cast about through my memories, but it felt as though all of them were tainted with a shade of something. I didn’t fit in, or I wasn’t living up to expectations, or Mother was drunk. I frowned. “I can’t think of anything.”
“What about our first kiss?”
Heat shot up my neck. “I can’t talk about that.” Though he was right; at the moment when I’d thought of the kiss, my jaw unclenched.
“Okay. Just think about it. It’s working.”
All at once my ears equalized, and I felt as though I’d been thrust inside of a soap bubble. Everything was muffled and distorted. Then the bubble popped. I looked down. To accommodate the claws curling out of my toes, I’d risen onto the pads of my feet. My . . . furry feet.
“I did it!” My voice echoed oddly in my ear. I flinched away from it.
“I think it’s the acoustics of the stone walls,” Jacob said. “I heard it, too.”
My claws struggled against the belt of my wrap. I didn’t want to ruin it, but the cloth covering my fur chafed and I didn’t like the sensation.
“Here, let me.” Jacob eased the belt free and I stepped out of it, letting it fall. “I didn’t think I’d get to undress you so soon,” he said, turning his head to wink at me.
“Ugh,” I said, shrugging away from him. “Don’t make rude jokes.”
He laughed. “We’re literally animals right now. Mating isn’t rude for animals.”
I turned away, not wanting to think about that. Instead, I stalked around, feeling how it felt to walk as a werewolf. Something about the fur or maybe the snout caused me to hunch forward. It was powerful and liberating. I had the sudden urge to howl, but Mr. Anu had told us not to do that until we’d left the farm.
“Come on,” Jacob said. “Let’s go outside and run. I want to run, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” We rushed to the ladder leading up out of the cellar. But our claws couldn’t find purchase on the stone as quickly as we wanted to move. I laughed, and it sounded a little bit like a bark.
Outside, the crescent moon was coming out from behind the clouds. Mr. Anu had assured us that the state of the moon had no bearing on whether we could show our alternate form; some aspects of the legend were indeed a legend. Also, we weren’t immortal and could be killed in any way that a human could. The silver-bullet theory had only come about because someone with pretty decent aim had killed a werewolf with one once.
The night air was slippery against my fur, and the feel of the grass between my toes was heavenly.
Jacob yipped and dashed off towards the road through the grass and woods, not bothering with the driveway. I followed. We didn’t run like dogs on all fours; we ran as humans, and it felt glorious. I was free to be myself and do what I wanted. I leaped into the air and followed that with a cartwheel, then a somersault. Jacob was ahead of me and didn’t see, but he was busy testing his new body in other ways. He bounded so that he jumped high and sailed over a boulder, then he slashed his claws across the trunk of a tree, obliterating it. The tree wasn’t large, but it shuddered and started to fall. Laughing, we ran away as it crashed behind us.
When we got to town, we stayed in the shadows. We di
dn’t want just anyone to see us, and we certainly didn’t want to be caught. We traveled through backyards and alleys until we’d made our way to the sheriff’s office.
We hunkered down behind some trash cans at the rear of the office parking lot. “Are you sure you want to do this? He’s going to know it was you.”
“How would he know that?”
“You think he was dumb enough to tell anyone else that he planted the evidence?”
“No,” I said. “But he’s never going to get anyone to believe I came here looking like this.”
“All right,” he said. “You’ve got a plan, right?”
“My plan is to scare him so bad he leaves town.”
Jacob’s shoulders drooped. “Iris. That’s not going to work. He’s old and stubborn. You think he’ll even be able to see us out from under all those wrinkles?”
“Fine. What do you think the plan should be?”
“I dunno. I thought you already had one.”
We sat for a few minutes, watching the station. The lot only had the sheriff’s car and one other. Maybe it belonged to Sally or a deputy.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” I said. “We have to get him alone. And we have to make sure he doesn’t have his gun. Then we’re going to knock him down and hold him down. And we’re going to get him to promise to tell the truth about the evidence. Oh, and he has to release my father.”
“Can we rough him up? I’d like to rough him up.”
“Absolutely not! We’re not here to rough him up.”
Somehow he managed to convey a pouting expression even with a snout. “Come on, he deserves it.”
“He might deserve it, but you’re also right about him being old. We might break a hip just by knocking him down.”
“But —”
“Promise,” I said. “Promise me that you won’t hurt him other than to knock him down.”
“What about self-defense?”
I sighed. “Self-defense is okay, too. But no killing. Definitely no killing.”
He crossed his arms. “Fine.”
“All right. Now, how do we get him alone?”