Chapter 10 #2
I just needed a second to get my bearings.
What looked like a wardrobe actually served as an altar space with a little shrine.
I opened the cherry-wood doors and found everything exactly as I left it.
Candle stubs competed for room with natural trinkets gifted by the woods.
An ancient medallion, stamped with the symbol of some forgotten Godd, gleamed behind slips of paper with prayers written on them in my childish scrawl.
The blue glass bowl required a bit of water.
The tiny plate next to it waited for the offering of Honey’s bread I kept in my packet like a talisman.
I smiled as I set it there, the ritual more special with her included.
One didn't just use Old Magic like a wand or a numerical formula that had a predictable outcome. You petitioned Old Magic to work with you, fill you, allow you to be its vessel. If you didn’t submit to it, it would destroy you.
Most gracious hag, mother of all and protector of wolves, virgin of the wood.
I lit a candle, moving the flame to the others until the shrine glowed gold with reflected light.
Lend me your strength, your wisdom, and your patience. Mainly your strength, so I don't fuck Honey into my mattress before I can convince her we’re genuine mates. Please don’t be mad that I only got the job half done before I got here. There were… circumstances.
It was a selfish request but I couldn't help it. Still, it wouldn't do to anger the Old Magic.
If you see fit, of course. Make your purpose mine so I don't embarrass myself trying to be what these wolves need.
I shifted on my knees.
And I'll bring more bread.
An answering warmth filled me with purpose and power. It really was back. The trick was not having it stripped from us again. Fulfilling our prayers was only a bonus. Maybe I wouldn’t be what the Whitewolfs wanted, but I would be what they needed tonight.
Briggs secured the food by the time I walked to the door, as I assumed she would. Momma complained all she wanted but she wouldn't pass up an opportunity to feed someone. I tried to take it from my sister for warmth when we went outside but she refused to give it up.
“Mean,” I growled, sticking my tongue out at her.
So much for my homecoming. My siblings were already too comfortable.
I was a bit nervous as I knocked on the door. I hadn't seen the Whitewolfs since I was a pup. They didn't know me, not really, and I had lost touch with the rhythm of this place. My father ruled this pack with authority, fear. I refused to bring that back. I could only be myself.
The door opened and Briggs shoved the crock into Hattie Whitewolf’s hands.
“We’re here with a ‘light’ dinner,” I said with humor in my voice.
Rings circled her eyes. Her skin hung lifeless and ashy. It took a lot to bring a wolf shifter down, but a missing child would do it. Two would kill a wolf.
She opened the crock to a vat of cream and cheese stuffed with bright chilis and caramelized onions. Inhaling deeply, the first sign of life lit her features.
“Anise’s white pasta? We won't have to eat for a week! Come in. Come in out of the cold.”
We moved into their snug home, the faces of her mate and son drawn and tired. The smell of food brought a weak glint into their eyes. Even if anxiety vibrated off them like a living thing, hope also filled the small residence.
I settled at their kitchen table as Hattie bustled about to get plates. “Nothing like cheese on cream for a winter night. Tastes like home.”
“We’re glad to see you back,” Holgar Whitewolf said as the plates hit the table and his son joined us. Briggs made a point of sitting next to the youngest wolf, Arden.
This was it. The moment I had to do the thing they were all waiting for. My stomach folded in on itself and I breathed through my nose. Suddenly my hands splayed on the table were the most interesting thing in the room.
“I wish we could chat about winter stores and how thick the ice will be for skating but I know your girls are missing.”
The whole family, Briggs included, leaned forward in anticipation. I was supposed to say something inspiring or definitive, but I only had my own good nature.
“Tell me about them.” My smile must have communicated the warmth I wanted. Hattie grabbed my hand and the surge of Old Magic between us took us both by surprise.
The stories were long, filled with details only family noticed.
They fleshed out the wolves I remembered from childhood into women with hopes and dreams of making this their home with the mates they hoped to find.
It was clear they hadn't run away. And even though Holgar grew teary and the crock sat empty, they held out their hands at the end of a story like I was about to get up.
“I’m sure you have to go. It’s just that Starla still talked about you after you left.
I heard you have a mate now, but she saw the truth of you when you forced the Alpha to leave.
Not all of us understood what Anise was going through.
Fated Mates don’t fail. That’s how we grew up.
I wanted you to know she never stopped advocating for you. ”
Her faith was more touching than I could say. The doubt of my decision had followed me for many years as I hunted for a way to bring back the Old Magic. My repayment to her was being present. I didn’t need to be anywhere more important than here.
“Did I tell you the time Starla saved our lives?”
Everyone’s interest sharpened.
“Cosomo and I were playing in the stream behind Dead Man’s Dell and we heard a rustling sound in the bushes…”
It was a stupid story involving a burning branch, a frightened raccoon, and water that should have frozen us solid. Still, the grief bled out of the room as I got them to laugh with me.
“That does sound like Starla. She still hunted the woods with Krystall every morning for food and magic alike.”
Then the scent we picked up in the forest on the way here was true.
“We found where their trail ended and we’ve sent more scouts to double-check the area. It didn’t feel like Old Magic, or not any I’ve ever encountered. Could they have tried to leave Sombermane through magical means?”
It wasn’t common, but perhaps I inspired Starla too much.
“I don’t think so,” Hattie said. “She was working to restore the Old Magic herself and wouldn’t leave in the middle of that.”
Dead ends upon dead ends. What might I say to make this better? I clenched my hands, trying to come up with the complete opposite of what my dad would have done.
Hattie looked up at me, tears glittering in her eyes. “Thank you for letting us talk about them. These haven’t been easy years. With the magic lost, we’ve drifted apart a bit. This wasn’t how I wanted the pack to come together.”
It was hard not to feel guilty for leaving, even if it had a purpose. All I could do was show up each day now that I was here. “I’m here for you. The pack is too.”
I eyed Briggs and she did her part, suggesting to Arden they go on a hunt. The Whitewolfs’ gratitude shone through as we all stood.
“I won’t make you any promises, but I will try to find them.”
“We know, son.” Holgar clapped my shoulder.
A surge of memory caught me off guard. I understood he wasn’t calling me his son, but being back in Nightfell, Momma’s pasta sitting in my belly, a bit of my mourning bled through.
I might have held on to Holgar a little longer than I had to.
Hattie also clasped me too firmly. It was gratifying to see that a spark of life had returned to their eyes.
I walked back into the night and saw Briggs and her charge off.
“Don't go too far.” I reminded her, more than warned her.
“Thanks, Dad.” She smirked at me as they disappeared into the dark.
“You're a dick,” I called after her.
But for the first time, I heard that as a joke and didn’t sense the noose of my past around my neck.
I wouldn’t say I was proud of myself. It was too early for that.
Those hugs, Starla’s belief in me when I wasn’t even here, were a balm I didn’t know I needed.
Momma had to love me. The pack would tear me to shreds if it didn’t think I was worthy. Hope filled the winter air.
That was, until a boom split the night open.