Chapter Seven

Wind plays in the branches. They bend.

Lovers at last coming together.

From Baghdad Song – Ibn Al-‘Arabi

Translated from the Arabic by Michael Sells

The forest beyond my house became filled with the soothing rhythms of the night. Life coursed through earth and woodlands. Humanity narrowed down to a hush. A hum of insects and the pulse of wandering creatures scurrying in the underbrush. Time measured in moon and wind. Breath and hope. And I wanted to hide in its lush folds forever.

It was comforting. Peaceful. It seemed to beckon to us. Called to each of us in some sort of primordial, purely animalistic voice that only another beast of nature could recognize. The type of sound that soothed the savage soul. Normal.

Oddly, it was a normality I was quickly growing accustomed to as two wolves and a sleek black panther took to the night.

We ran hard. Gone in a blur of green. The wind ruffled our fur. The earth churned beneath padded paws. We ran from demons we knew we’d never escape, each toting our own dark, violent nightmare that in some small portion of our brain we knew if we allowed it control over us, it would never bring us another moment of peace.

So instead we ran. Like beasts were meant to do. In great huffs, we gulped down the cool night air. Fierce, strong bodies easily skirting land we’d grown to know like it were a part of our soul. Freedom and peace surged through our minds, our bodies as we attempted to dispel the Darkness. Dislodge its hold over us. Striving to escape the murky sludge of shadows that stalked us in the night.

For me however, I knew I could never outrun the Darkness again. It had become a part of me—a reflective pattern in shadowed glass. A part of my soul I now truly recognized and accepted. It was just another complex piece of me that made the other half whole.

On we ran, the motions a dance with my shadow as it kept time with my beast. For me the running brought a simple measure of understanding; a small moment of simply being another part of myself. The running allowed my wolf to be me and me to be my wolf. It allowed me to feel the earth and magic, beast and Darkness, life and Light. To feel the night rush through my limbs and the wind to flow through my fur. To become all that was the night and have it course through my veins like a pulsating river of life.

For this instant, I reveled in its simplicity, allowed myself to be.

When the running finally seemed to quiet our souls, we caught the scent of game. Herded it, tracked it. Hunted and killed it, like we were meant to do. The blood became the sacrifice to the Prophets. Our silent offering. Our wordless prayer for strength, hope and the possibility of freedom from all the demons that haunted us.

Quietly, together we crept back towards home. Jade, my ever-present shadow at my side. Jet a darker shadow still. We guided her, offered her our comfort. Our support.

Tonight she would sleep off the weariness of the change. The weight of knowledge. The price of fear.

There were but mere days until Halloween. I was beginning to wonder how, in that time, I was to come up with a plan to save our family? For that is what they had become to me in this very short time. More than just people I shared my time with, my home and my life. They were entwined in my future, true. But each one had slowly left their own mark upon my heart, wormed their way past barriers I hadn’t known I’d had, and each was laying the foundation of friendship. Companionship. And, strange as it may seem to me, their absence affected me. Wounded me. Angered me.

So how in all that was right in the Light was I to destroy Jirvel’s Darkness, rescue Kieran and the others, get back whatever it was that Lucien expected me to steal back from that evil pasty she-bitch, retrieve the Book of The Way and set to rights the Land of Light? Oh, and manage not to go insane by all of this? How was I to trust the Light when the Light wasn’t providing me any damn answers?

My heart grew heavy with worry. Tainted with hatred. Limned in fear. This was going to take a freaking miracle. Or, a maker of miracles, I suddenly realized. Magical, power-filled miracles. Question was—would the Court let me speak to the one person who could show me how to tap into them? And, would she be forgiving enough that I’d helped to lock her in a Vortex of Suppression that she’d willingly offer her assistance?

Only one way to find out.

“You’ve an idea,” Gimlit stated, wrapping the length of my red robe around me. He’d waited at home for the night to run its course, to dispel the Darkness from us. To help us find some peace. I briefly wondered what he did to ease his own dark suffering. How did my Gim let loose the vile stain so that the Light could clear his mind and once more shine within him?

“You are my Light, mistress. Where you find peace, so too do I follow,” he whispered softly as he brushed the lightest of kisses against my forehead. I had no idea what I did to deserve Gimlit, but as I stood in the comfort of his embrace, his solid arms holding me, I said a silent prayer of thanks to the Prophets. Of all the gifts bestowed upon me, no matter how great or small, Gimlit’s protection, love and guidance all these years since he found me as a babe in the forest where my despicable mother left me for dead, I could never be more grateful for. His was a debt I could never repay.

“Your heart speaks loudly where no words of thanks are needed, mistress.”

“Gimlit, I…”

He tipped my chin up so I could stare into the drowning sea of his turquoise eyes. In them I found nothing but love staring back at me as he silenced me with his lips.

They were as soft as I remembered them. Briefly the image of his first kiss surfaced, the need, the urgency, and the fear. Then it all fell away and I was left with nothing but the feel of his lips on mine. Gimlit, my beautiful, dangerous Ogre. My ancient warrior. My knowledgeable healer. The Guardian of my life, my heart and my soul.

The weight of his lips on mine fluttered through my belly, causing things lower to constrict with need. He swept his tongue in my mouth at the same instant he swept aside the edges of my robe and the feel of his hands on my body sped my heart rate, increased my hunger. Then he deepened the kiss.

I had the barest of thoughts that things had never progressed this far with Gimlit. A kiss igniting an inferno of need, sparking a fire of desire. His hands on my skin, scorching a path of hunger so great I felt as though I would implode if he didn’t touch me soon.

While one hand cupped the span of my ass, the other wound its way up the side of my waist before meandering down to where I pulsed with need. His fingers were a whisper from the juncture of my yearning when he paused, pulling back from the kiss.

“Tell me stop, Rihker,” he growled, need and his own burning desire heavy in his voice. The fire of hunger burned in his eyes turning them to a stunning sea-foam flame.

My pulse hammered so fiercely I could feel it in my throat. My body quivered with a need so immense I felt I’d turn to dust on the spot if I didn’t have him buried deep inside of me. I could literally see the world tinted in a haze of smoldering red desire.

“Stop.” The voice was familiar and close. Demanding and powerful. I felt a distant stir deep inside of me; the movement of fur and remembered touches. I blinked. Once. Twice. Then realized that it wasn’t me who’d said the word. My head turned, the barest of movements and my peripheral vision was caught in the crimson glow. A glow that was coming from Gimlit’s heart.

“By all the Prophets!” I whispered. My shock was instant, my confusion immeasurable.

Gimlit blinked as if coming to himself; a fog seemed to lift from his mind with each rapid succession of blinks. Cleansing his mind of desire and lust.

“I had heard whispers long ago of the possibility,” he stated, his voice ripe with wonder, his eyes filled with uncertainty and a strange sort of longing I didn’t quite comprehend. “But I never believed.”

His hands clung to my waist a moment longer before he released me, closed the edges of my robe around me and stepped back. The crimson glow of his heart slowly dissipated to a dim blush where I knew his pulse beat soundly within the walls of his chest. Jade stepped fully into the room and the moment, and the spell was broken.

“Gimlit, what’s going on?” I asked, completely unnerved by the entire situation. Surprisingly my voice sounded normal, considering I felt like I could collapse any second. My life was one giant cauldron of swirling, mystic, hou-ha bullshit that just continued to boil over. Sure it would steep and simmer every now and then and I would think I would gain some ground. Come to some understandings. Learn a little bit more. Then, like the simmering pot of shit that it was, the fire would get too high and the magical mayhem would spill over once again.

Just once I wished it would just simmer long enough for me to catch my damn breath.

“I’m sorry.” The apology came from Jade, who’d finally come completely into the room, only to stop at the edge of my dresser. We’d returned from our run in the forest, and he and Prism had helped the others get Jet off to Werepanther dreamland. She would be out for hours. Prism said she would stay and be her watcher, her protector until morning arrived.

Jade, being Alpha, had returned to his glorious human form and headed for the shower. Gimlit had met me in the hall, robe in hand, a million unspoken words between us. And now, apparently there would more questions that needed to be answered.

Across the distance of my bedroom, my eyes met the iridescent paleness of Jade’s crystal-clear blue eyes. They were the most striking eyes I’d ever seen on a person; so clear even the palest of topaz or a smoky crystal could never compare. But now his eyes were filled with regret, and I couldn’t begin to wonder why he was sorry.

Was he sorry that he’d stopped us? Or sorry that he hadn’t gotten there sooner? I guess it would depend on what Gimlit had to say.

“No, my fair Wolf,” Gimlit stated, turning towards Jade, his head bowed in acknowledgement and respect, “it is I that must ask your forgiveness. And your forgiveness as well, Rihker.” He turned slightly towards me, yet he did not raise his head. He did not look at me when he spoke. It unnerved the hell out of me.

“Look at me, Gimlit.” I told him, a thousand uncertainties running rampant through my brain. “Look at me and tell me what the hell is going on.” There was a hard edge of panic to my voice. Urgency and fear as well. Each emotion lodged itself in my throat like a hex, or a dark scepter yet to be seen. His behavior was so all over the board I didn’t know what was up or down. Gimlit was my rock, my ever-soothing Zen. He was my steady breeze in a roaring wind. The tiny flame in a blazing inferno. Gimlit was my calm, my peace and strength, and suddenly it seemed like he was slipping from me.

His sigh was audible, emotion packed and somehow weirdly comforting. To hear his sigh told some distant part of my brain that he was gathering his thoughts. That his wits were returning. My peaceful, vengeful, destructive and nurturing warrior was gathering himself and somehow, all would be right with the world. Wouldn’t it?

“Calm yourself, mistress.” He reached out, taking my trembling hand in the solid grasp of his large, cool fingers. “It is not as bad as you fear.”

“Then what is it? Why was your heart glowing like a beacon? Why did I feel the urgent demand to have you buried within my flesh as though we were one cohesive unit? Why was my need so great and the will and needs of the world around me nothing more than a quivering drop on a rain-filled lake? Why, Gimlit? Can you tell me that? What the hell is going on?” Each question brought my pulse rate back up, my voice rising in crescendo with out of control fears.

“Long before my birth,” he started, “when the world was new and the Light and the Darkness hovered on the edges of the universe together, it was said that the Prophets created the Heart Spell. Within it resided the Light and Love of the Way. It is said that all of the Guardians of the chosen few would hold in their possession and protection all of the Tells of their ward until such a time as they are ready to walk into the universe knowing. But there were whispers, even then, in the beginning, that the Darkness was jealous of the Light. That it coveted what the Light had created. Yearned for the glory it had granted. That it despised all who walked in its splendor and would do anything to take over those with the slightest hint of weakness in their life.

“The Light, knowing the vileness of the Darkness, took many ardent strides to protect its children from the suffering that was the Darkness. First, by giving special Tells to those who would fight the Darkness and keep its corruption from spreading into the Land of Light. To keep it from defiling the Children of the Light,” he affirmed his voice resonating through the room with the mystery of the ages. It filled the small space with the secrets of a history passed down through time.

“These things are marked in The Book of the Way. They are the rules we follow, customs we learn, and magic we strive to uphold. But there is one secret that is written in its passages.” He looked into my eyes. His voice had grown thick with mystery, raw with emotion and hope. I was almost afraid to breathe.

“There is one secret, Rihker, written within the books pages—scrawled in a text as old as time itself. It has never been translated. It is in a language so old that is completely unknown to our people,” he told me.

“The Mystics say it will unlock the Tells of all of the Children of Light. Others say that it is the doorway to what is and what might be. Still, there are some that believe it unlocks the mysteries of life itself. But, whatever it is and whoever holds its pages, holds the key. For the Light will burn in the Darkness when the Heart Spell is set free.”

His words faded and I was left numb. Bereft of knowledge. Yet awakened by a brief understanding at the same time. But still filled with a plethora of angst. What pages had I consumed in my fight with Modgav? Were they the pages that would set our people free? Would they release Tells? Provide us with the power to defeat the Darkness once and for all?

What other pages had I consumed? By consuming them, did I only condemn us instead? Prophets! I had so many questions that I had no answers for.

But I knew someone who might. And she’d damn well better be in the mood to be cooperative or so help her, I swear I’m going to suck the remaining Light right out of her! If that’s even a possibility.

Some days, one should be really careful what they wish for.