Chapter 8
Soren
When we arrive at the hospital, only a short ride away in the West Village, Lyall and I follow the paramedics as they wheel Fergus into the emergency room.
My granddad doesn’t always look his age, but seeing him sprawled out on a stretcher with an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth reminds me that he won’t always be here.
I just never thought that day would be today. I thought we had more time together. I—
“He’ll be all right,” Lyall says. His hand is big and warm on my shoulder.
I blow out a shuddery breath, blinking fast. “God. I hope so.”
I can’t lose him. He’s all the family I have left.
The nurses wheel Fergus down the hall, and he disappears from my sight. “Come. Let’s find somewhere to rest.” If it weren’t for Lyall’s hand on my shoulder keeping me grounded, I probably would have walked into walls as he steers me back in the direction we came from.
I’m in such a daze, I don’t realize where we are until Lyall says, “Soren. Have a seat.”
I all but collapse into the chair. Lyall showed up to the bar wearing this big fluffy fur cloak, and the fur is warm and soft against my shoulder. It kind of reminds me of—
“Shit. Buddy. We left him!” Who is taking care of him?
I try to stand, but Lyall forces me back down.
“Soren, listen to me. There’s something I need to tell you.” Lyall heaves a sigh, shoulders slumping. In a low voice, he says, “I… I am Buddy.”
That makes no sense. “Sorry, what?” A few other patients look at me, and I realize I practically shouted the question at him.
Lyall hisses, “I am Buddy, and he is me. I’m ulfhednar. But you call our kind wolf shifters.”
Wolf shifters. Is he for real? I can’t believe he’d joke around at a time like this. “You know, now really isn’t the time to be making jokes!” I hiss, trying to escape his grip.
Lyall pulls me back into the chair before I can get far. “I would never lie to you, Soren! Even as a jest.” Lyall’s eyes are pleading with me, and maybe I’m crazy too because I almost believe him. How can I not when he looks at me like that?
As crazy as that whole statement sounds, it almost makes sense. Lyall was nowhere to be seen until Buddy just disappeared in the split second I was distracted with Fergus.
A laugh escapes me. “You’re insane.”
“I can show you.”
I bark a laugh at the thought. Exhausted, I slump over with my face in my hands. “Just… later, I guess.”
For a long while, we’re quiet. Lyall rubs my shoulders in soothing circular motions. As strange as he can be, I’m still so grateful he’s here. I’d hate to be alone right now with my thoughts.
“Mr. Smith?”
I jump to my feet. “Here!”
A doctor approaches and shakes my hand, introducing himself, but I barely listen. All that matters is when he says, “Your grandfather is stable. He’s going to be just fine, but he’ll need to stay the night for monitoring.”
“Can I see him?”
The doctor leads us to my grandfather’s room. He’s propped up against the pillows, eyes closed. The doctor leaves us alone before I start bawling like a scared little kid.
Lyall locks the door behind us. “Soren, I—”
“No. Enough of this ‘I’m a wolf’ crap. Just… just go away, Lyall.”
I regret my harsh words when Lyall flinches. “Please, just hear me out!”
I can’t. This is all too much.
“Soren?” My throat thickens when I lay eyes on Fergus, and he gives me a tired smile.
I rush to his bedside and put my arm around him, squeezing gently. “You scared the hell out of me!” Tears sting my eyes when he laughs that rusty, warm laugh.
“I’ll be fine, my boy.”
“Soren—” Lyall begins, but I hush him and focus on my grandfather.
“What happened? You were passed out when I came in.” I can’t keep the fear out of my voice.
Fergus’s lips twist in pity. “I’m sorry I worried you. I just felt so tired all of a sudden—” He goes quiet, glaring over my shoulder at Lyall.
“Oh, this is my friend Lyall.” I motion to the man.
Except he’s not a man at all. There’s a motherfucking wolf right in front of me.
A second ago he was Lyall, and now he’s a wolf.
A wolf that looks a lot like Buddy the wolf-dog.
Because he is. It’s just like Lyall said. They’re one and the same. But… but how?
“Can you see that?” I ask hoarsely, pointing at the wolf.
Fergus sighs, his head dropping back against his pillow. “Yes.”
Somehow that’s worse. If we can both see it, then this is real. I just saw a man turn into a wolf. A wolf who is scratching himself in the middle of the room like he has every right to be here.
“W-why aren’t you more surprised?” I ask with mounting suspicion.
Fergus looks tired. “Because I’m a witch.”
A bark of laughter escapes me, but my grandfather doesn’t return my humor.
Lifting a hand, he curls his finger as if he’s beckoning to me. I jump out of my skin when the faucet turns on all by itself. Before my eyes, a paper cup levitates right out of the stack, fills itself, then flies right into my grandfather’s waiting hand.
“Do you believe me now?”
I can’t speak. There has to be a logical explanation for this. Maybe there’s something in the water, or—
The wolf whines, making me jump. The huge beast lowers himself down to his belly. His green eyes are identical to Lyall’s, the only thing human in his beastly body. They’re mournful. Is he feeling sad? Why?
A shudder racks the wolf, and his fur pulls back from his body, revealing Lyall on his knees before me, still dressed in his streetwear as if he didn’t shift into a wolf at all. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
I can’t hold back my burst of hysterical laughter. “I’m sorry, you just turned into a fucking wolf! What else was I supposed to feel? Happy?”
Closing my eyes tightly, I suck in quick breaths. Magic is a thing. Werewolves are real. My grandfather is a fucking witch. Oh my god. Fergus knew. He knew all this time, and he kept this from me!
“Soren, it’s all right,” Fergus says, but his voice is far away, like I’m underwater, like I’m drowning.
“It’s not!” My voice fills the room, cracking under the strain. “You’re a witch! You can do magic! He just turned into a wolf! Nothing about this is all right!” I stumble, gripping onto the doorknob for support.
“No, I suppose it isn’t…”
Lyall clears his throat. “I didn’t show you what I am to upset you. I showed you because you deserve to know the truth.”
“Which is?” I snap, wiping sweat from my forehead. “What? That I’m crazy? That nothing I know is real? That you’ve kept this from me all my life?” I turn to my grandfather, who averts his gaze down to his hands, where they’re clenching the blanket. “What else did you lie about?”
Fergus flinches.
Oh fuck.
Is there more he hasn’t told me? I try to swallow, but my mouth has gone bone dry.
“Tell him,” Lyall says, making me look at him now. Somehow the two of them are in on this. It makes my stomach cramp with dread.
Fergus closes his eyes tight. When he opens them, they’re glassy with tears. “No matter what, Soren, I want you to know that the love I have for you has always been real.”
Silence descends upon the room, and I hold my breath, terrified of what I’ll learn when it finally breaks.
The paper cup of water shakes in Fergus’s grip.
He takes a gulp, then lowers the cup into his lap.
“It’s true. I am a witch. So was everyone in my family before me.
Since the Viking age, witches have worshipped Freya.
It’s through her blessing that we receive our magical gifts.
Much like how Lyall’s people worship Fenrir and are rewarded with the ability to shift. ”
I want to call bullshit, but I just saw this guy turn into a wolf and a cup fly into my granddad’s hand on command like a bird.
“Long ago my ancestors performed a magic ritual that allowed them to travel between the past, present, and future. There was chaos at first as the timelines clashed. My ancestors sealed the portals and created magical artifacts that would allow travel between realms without disturbing the balance of all three.”
“Wait. Stop. Why are we talking about time travel? That’s a thing too?” The doorknob isn’t doing a good job of keeping me on my feet anymore. I stumble to the nearest chair and collapse onto it.
“Aye,” Lyall answers, and something clicks into place in my brain. “We’re in your present world, but the time I’m from is long past.”
When I look at him, it’s like I’m seeing him for the first time. The antique clothes he wore the night we met… his archaic way of speaking…
“You’re a…” The words get trapped behind my teeth.
Even after everything I’ve seen tonight, saying this out loud still feels wrong.
Like saying the Earth is flat, or that the moon landing was fake.
There are undeniable truths in this world.
Time travel, magic, werewolves, witches…
these are all things I believed could never exist.
“I’m a time traveler,” Lyall says. His gaze never wavers from mine as he speaks with such conviction, I have no choice but to believe him.
“Fuck…” I lower my face into my hands.
“Shall we continue?” Fergus asks.
Speechless, I can only nod.
He clears his throat. “Lyall isn’t the only traveler I know, Soren.” He hesitates for a long moment. I look up and wish I hadn’t. Fergus looks more devastated than I’ve ever seen him. “You are too.”
I shake my head. “What are you talking about?”
No, this is some kind of joke. I can almost get behind the whole time travel thing, but me being a time traveler? That’s not possible. I would have remembered that.
“When you were eighteen, you arrived in this timeline from the past. You were alone and in need of help. My employers at the Travelers Council assigned me to care for you and help you adjust to this new time.”
“No.” I push myself up. “This isn’t funny.” I pace from one side of the room to the other. This room is so fucking small, and it’s only getting smaller. Everything narrows down to me and my grandfather.
Who is he? Are we even related?