CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Dinner was without salt and season, but still was one of the best meals Ember had eaten in a long time. The wolves had shifted to human form and laid down a base of stones, put the animals on it, then covered them with more stones. They heated the rocks magically, baking the rabbits in the middle as well as any stove. Ember ate a whole rabbit on her own and would have taken more if there had been any left.
After she’d eaten her fill, and her packmates had shifted back to their natural form, they curled together near the base of the willow. For some reason, all the wolves but Shad seemed more comfortable as wolf than man. Once everyone was settled, Ember sat across the fire from her uncle and finally had the chance to satisfy her curiosity. Shad sat in the dirt and leaned against a log with a satisfied sigh.
“Uncle Shad, what was he like?” Ember asked as Shad extended his feet toward the soggy fire.
He seemed to know exactly who she meant.
“He was a good man and a great friend—the best. I’ve met a lot of people in my life, child, an awful lot, and I have yet to find one who is as caring, responsible, trustworthy, and talented as he is . . .was,” he corrected, his voice catching. She was silent, hoping he’d continue. Shad stared into the small fire, huddled for warmth as they sat protected beneath the giant willow. “I remember the first time I met him. It was supposed to be this big secret between my father and me, but he wanted me to meet my human brother. He said we were a lot alike, and I think he had regrets about leaving Asana.”
“Asana?” Ember asked. “Who’s that?”
“Your grandmother.” Shad glanced at her, then let his eyes be drawn back to the fire. “She’s a strong woman, feisty as could be, but with a lot of love to give. I’ve met her a time or two. You’d like her,” he said, giving her a half-smile. “I know my father cared for my own mother, but he never loved her the way he did your grandmother.”
“Then why did he leave?”
He shrugged. “Political reasons. The chief of the Bendanatu passed away, and Bahndai, my father, was next in line. The Elders finally convinced him he needed to return home and lead us, for the good of the people, though it wasn’t something he wanted. He just happened to be chosen.” He shifted on the log that looked even more uncomfortable than the rock where Ember sat.
“Chosen? Why?”
“It’s the eyes. The Bendanatu believe that our Guardian will show the sign of his favor through the eyes of his Chosen One.”
“What do you mean?” she pursued.
“The Chosen’s eyes are different in color than the rest of the tribe.”
“Really? I thought all wolves had brown or gold eyes.”
He shrugged again. “Usually they do,” he answered, not really paying attention to her as he began to snap a twig into little pieces and throw it into the fire.
“But your eyes are green,” she said.
“Nice of you to notice,” he answered with a hint of sarcasm lacing his voice.
The realization of what he said sunk in. “So does that mean you’re the next Chosen One?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Unfortunately? Why, Uncle? Don’t you want to be a leader?” She was surprised. He seemed so capable and wise, even if he was a jokester.
“It’s not that, Ember. Of course I want to help my people however I can, but . . .” he spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “It’s a big job. My father is a great example of the sacrifices leaders must make. He gave up the love of his life to marry a friend, because that was the ‘right’ thing to do, and he did my mother no favors by it. Much as I love my parents, there’s a part of me that wishes he had stayed with his human love and found a way to make it work.”
“I didn’t know wolf life was so complex,” she said, leaning back against the log.
He rolled his eyes. “You have no idea, Ember, absolutely no idea. Human life is no picnic, but wolf life is extremely complex, with prejudice everywhere one looks.”
“Now that’s something I do know a little bit about,” she said, trying to make light of the painful subject. Shad gave her a sympathetic grin and continued his previous story.
“Jarin was about five years old when my father took me to see him. For some reason, I thought of him as my little brother, though he was actually the elder. The Bendanatu age differently than humans.” A half-smile quirked Shad’s dimples to life. “He was little for his age, but he thought he could do anything. I’ve never seen such foolish courage, old or young, since then. He thought that if he could run fast enough and flap his arms really hard, he could fly.”
“You’re kidding!” Ember laughed. Shad painted a wonderful picture—it made her father seem so real and pulled him off the pedestal on which she’d kept him most of her life.
“Of course he didn’t succeed,” Shad continued, smiling at the memory, “but it quickly became a game with us. We’d run and chase each other back and forth, and pretend we were flying. When we tired of that, we just raced across the fields and through the trees. He was the elder, but I still beat him—until he took to riding me.” Shad chuckled then. “He became the wolf master and I his wolf, and he was small enough that I could carry him on my back without harm.”
Shad was quiet for a long moment then, seemingly lost in thought, and Ember found her mind wandering, imagining her father so young and innocent.
“That was the first day Father taught him to change into wolf form so he could run with us,” Shad spoke again, startling Ember out of her reverie. “It was exciting. It had been great fun playing with Jarin as a human pup, but as a wolf cub he truly became my brother. We spent the time rolling and running and sniffing until Asana called him home. She never knew we came to see him, didn’t know her husband was so close. Believe it or not, she never knew her husband was a wolf.”
“No!” Ember gasped. “How could she not know?” She sat forward in surprise. The fire popped, spitting sparks, and she leaned back again, away from the flame.
“He didn’t choose to tell her. In her eyes, he just disappeared one day, with no explanation. He was gone for two years before he came home for her. It had taken him that long to convince the council to accept a human amongst them, but when he showed up on her doorstep to explain, she would not speak to him. The stubborn woman sent him packing, wouldn’t even listen, and so he returned to the Bendanatu, and they haven’t spoken to each other since. The pride between the two of them . . .” Shad shook his head. “I’ve been trying for years to get one or the other of them to take the first step, but they think it’s too late, despite the regrets. They won’t even try.”
“That’s so sad.”
Shad nodded slowly, staring into the glowing coals. A comfortable silence stretched between them for a long while, long enough that Ember lay down in the grass near the fire, close enough to stay warm, but far enough to keep from being caught by sparks.The flame seemed to know she was named for it and was sending an invitation. Shad continued to stare into the fire as if he could see things beyond Ember’s ken.
She was drifting off to sleep when he spoke again.
“Your father showed an incredible talent for magic when he was very young. He was six when I caught him milking the goat without hands, seven when he learned to fly.”
“Really? My father could fly?” Ember sat up, astounded. “Oh, yes, that man could fly like a bird.
You should have seen Asana’s face the first time she saw him. I couldn’t stop laughing—it just about gave her a heart attack,” Shad chuckled at the memory. “He apologized, of course, but it wasn’t long before Asana took him to the academy in Karsholm to get some training.”
“At seven? Isn’t that a little young?” Ember wasn’t sure, but it seemed most magi started between eight and twelve.
Shad nodded. “Yes, it’s very young, but it was either that or tie him down. Asana couldn’t keep his feet on the ground once he learned to fly, especially once he could shape-shift into hawk form. Oh, he was beautiful. I never could do t
he bird shift, but he was a natural at it. Almost preferred hawk to wolf form, which is near to unheard of. In fact, it is unheard of—except for him—at least among the Bendanatu.“
Ember chuckled at the image of her father tied to the ground. If he was anything like she was, that would have been next to impossible. What a treasure of memories Shad gave her. This was exactly what she’d always wanted from her mother and never received. The thought of her mother brought back her longing and fear, now that Ian Covainis had entered the picture. She changed the subject to keep her thoughts from dangerous realms.
“How did you and DeMunth meet?” she asked. Her thoughts had continued to linger on him and his wordless song throughout the day.
“DeMunth? That’s a long and strange story. In short, I found him wandering the woods one day, delirious, and I took him to your grandma Asana to clean him up. She was the only person I could think of at the time who might care enough to help. I’ve kept an eye on her over the years, though she doesn’t know whose son I am.” Shad fiddled with a loose string on his sleeve. “She took a real liking to DeMunth, healing what was left of his tongue and nursing him back to health.”
“What happened to his tongue?”
Shad met her eyes across the fire, his lips drawn into a thin line. “That’s not my story to tell. You’ll have to ask him.” The silence stretched between them for a moment before he continued. “Your grandmother treated him like her own son, and he treated her like the mother he never knew. I haven’t seen a closer relationship between two people that weren’t kin. He helps her around the house, doing all the physical things that age makes difficult for her, and she keeps him healthy and fills his emotional needs. It’s a good situation for both of them.” Shad shifted against the log and pulled off another twig to feed the fire.
“Every once in a while, the two of us go to Javak and check in. Asana sends some of her best mage stones with him to sell. Since the trials are in session, the people we need to see are there. It seems easier to travel together, and we enjoy each other’s company. He’s quiet and laughs at my jokes, and I give him a living pillow at night,” Shad grinned.
Ember’s grandma mined mage stones. What a thought. She wondered what it would have been like to be raised with grandparents in her life. She’d not really thought about it before, but now the absence left her aching from one more loss.
“Will I ever meet my grandparents, do you think?” Ember thought aloud. She knew she must be getting tired, with her thoughts popping out of her mouth as they were.
Shad thought about it for a minute. “I don’t know, lass, though I hope so. I think they would love and welcome you. Neither of them has seen or heard from your father in over twenty years.” Shad threw the last of the twig into the fire before scooting to the ground and putting his back against the log. “It’s incredible we’ve met like this, but the Guardians have reasons for all the things in our lives. This was meant to be.”
Ember wasn’t sure about that, but she found herself open to the idea. She knew of the Guardians, of course, but had thought of them only as legend or myth, not as real, living beings watching out for and guiding her throughout her life. It was a strange thought, yet somehow comforting. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering with the drop in temperature the dark had brought.
“You know, you’d sleep a lot warmer in wolf form. I was about to change myself. Care to join me?” He grinned at her and began to slowly shift his body back into his natural shape.
Ember tried to follow him, attempting to recreate what she had done at the cave. Shad stopped his transformation at a patchy halfbald look, not quite human or wolf, to laugh at her attempts.
“Lass, you’ve got to let your clothes absorb into your skin. Change the color. Right now you have clothing-colored fur.“
Ember looked down and was appalled. She had a brown breech-shaped bottom half and a sage green top. She must be quite a sight indeed, and that would have to change immediately. She imagined the fur white, as his was, and it slowly faded into the same snowy shade.
“Good,” he applauded with paw-shaped hands. “Let’s continue.”
The change was gradual—first hair, then body, then limbs and face and teeth. Ember learned about halfway through the process that if she stopped thinking about it and simply tried to feel her way through the change, she was more successful in her attempts.
At last they were done.
For the second time that day Ember felt at ease in her wolf body, and thankfully warm. Her senses went back to their heightened state, both smell and hearing aware of every minute sound and scent within the forest, down to the steady tread of a beetle crawling across the clearing and the scent of various animals around the woods marking their territory. She had to adjust to the greater sound before she could sleep, but just as the nose adjusts to a familiar scent, even when overpowering, she found her awareness of noise slowly fading. Once she got used to it, she sauntered over to join the pack, circling to find a comfortable position. She finally settled, curling her nose around to meet her tail in typical canine fashion. It seemed a natural and comforting way to sleep.
Then she had a thought. “Uncle?” she yipped in wolf speak.
“Yes?” he answered, half-opening a single emerald eye.
“Did my father ever sleep with you under the moon like this?”
Shad smiled in his wolfish way, tongue lolling, and sighed, sadness oozing from him like a reopened wound. “Every chance he got. When your father and I ran, the moon was our best friend, the night our ally. Song was our hearts, and sleep our souls. Wolf was life. Being wolf was sheer joy when we were together.”
Ember could understand that sensation. Never before had she felt so comfortable in her own skin. No more awkwardness, no more questions about who she was or what she should do. Things were clearer, simpler. There were no more lies about her family and past. She might not know everything about who she was or where she had come from, but she now had a start and a source of information. She had a feeling she and Uncle Shad were going to be very close indeed, and it was a relationship no one would be able to sever.
Not even her mother.
And with that happy thought, she faded into sleep.