Rover
On a cold winter morning in February, the four of us head to a part of the Puppyville woods I had never been to before. Drakon and Lorenzo insist on coming, and make it clear they don’t trust Lavinia.
“What reason does she have to help you?” Drakon asks again, Lorenzo by his side.
“Drakon is right,” Lorenzo quips. Having Drakon and him there is a comfort, although I will never tell them both that. “No one is that generous.”
“If you play the same story one too many times, it gets old,” Muddy tells them both. “And Lavinia has mentioned the price is a heavy one, but we are willing to pay it.”
“Rover, tell Muddy this is crazy. You got your dragon, why go through all this?” Lorenzo demands, gaze meeting mine.
I flash him a small smile, which takes Lorenzo by surprise. “Muddy has suffered enough. It’s time we try something new.”
I don’t speak for the rest of the hike. We wolves know the lay of the land, the woods, every tree and foliage around Puppyville, but this is one part I don’t recognize. The ground underneath me and the oaks around us feel old, ancient even, and the surroundings unnerve my wolf. No one needs to tell me this is the place where Brandon, the original me, died.
I don’t realize I walked ahead of the others. My mind recognizes which path to take. I can almost hear them in my head, the growls and yips, as unfamiliar hands grab me forward, a prisoner with his unchangeable fate. I hear Muddy’s rumbling howl of defiance even now. The heat of the flames kissing my skin and in my dying moments, I remember Muddy, the tears in his eyes hurting worse than my burnt skin.
Brandon cursed Muddy, hated him in those few moments the wolves set fire to the pyre, even if he made his own choice. But Brandon forgave Muddy in the end. How could he not, when Muddy killed anything breathing in these woods? If this works, I want Muddy to bring me to the place where he buried Brandon, underneath a single tree under a lonely mountaintop. Then tell him I want him to bury my body there when my times passes.
It’s painful to think he will live on. Muddy’s immortal after all, but at least he won’t need to go through the pain of loving and losing again. At least, I manage to set him free—hopefully.
A shudder passes though me and I don’t realize I’m on my knees, until Muddy brushes a hand on my shoulder.
“Are you ready?” a voice croaks and I look up to see Lavinia leaning on her cane to one side.
She looks harmless, standing beyond a cluster of trees, bundled in a couple of layers, alone with her little dog by her side, but could Drakon be right?
Muddy says she inherits the hate and memories of her ancestors, but what else can she do? Curse us again? Take Muddy from me, or I from him? The exhaustion in her eyes and her sad smile tells me another story. That maybe, Muddy is right to trust her. We make our way to her, and find ourselves in a clearing. Snow forms a layer on dead ground. Dead because I know this is where Lavinia’s ancestor cursed us and nothing grows here any longer.
“Thank God, we were freezing our asses here,” complains another voice. Another old lady I recognize from Lavinia’s knitting club is leaning against Trig. Gina, I remember. The sight of my pack mate makes me smile.
“Trig, I didn’t know you were coming,” I say.
“Lavinia asked for our help,” Trig explains, nodding to the twigs and candles set on the ground, candles whose flames burn, despite the falling snow. I notice they form a kind of spiral and Drakon starts walking around the edge, frowning, studying the spiral. Maybe Lavinia hasn’t lost all her magic after all. “Don’t worry, no one else knows, only my mate.”
“Thank you,” I say, meaning it. I turn to Lavinia, suddenly nervous. Muddy touches my arm and I bring him close like a favorite and comforting blanket. His body melds against mine, a perfect fit, and for a couple of seconds I breathe in his comforting scent.
“Feeling better?” he whispers, and for a second I forget everyone else is here.
“Much.” I clear my throat and put my game face on. “Thank you for coming everyone. Lavinia, let’s do this.”
“I need you two to stand inside the spiral. If the incantation works, it will be up to you two, because I don’t know what exactly will happen,” Lavinia explains.
“Brother, this is foolishness,” Drakon says, shaking his head. “But I can say I sense no malice in the circle.”
With a nod towards each other, we enter the ritual site. We clasp each other’s hands like frightened children, unsure of what’s coming, while Lavinia begins muttering incomprehensible words. Latin peppered with something else, or nonsense words that mean nothing to me, but may mean Muddy’s freedom from the curse. A faint light surrounds us, flickering blue and weak. As Lavinia repeats the words over and over, the color turns darker, to an angry red almost.
“Good luck,” she whispers, and I see the others’ concerned faces.
Voices turn to whispers. I no longer feel the cold, and the warmth of Muddy’s fingers. The snow and ritual site falls from my line of site. The world spins. I see stars and faces, memories, emotions, then nothing. The next time I wake, I’m no longer myself.
* * * *
“I know one bronze dragon who dies, doing the right thing,” I say, although the words aren’t mine.
This body feels unfamiliar, yet it is. It takes me a second to orient myself. We’re at the mouth of the cavern and I wonder how we got here. It occurs to me a second later we’re no longer in the present. My body, Brandon’s body, moves like a puppet on a string. I lean in close to kiss Muddy, who can’t resist. In my hand, I clutch a broken arrowhead, slathered with a paralyzing agent and wait for the right moment to strike.
“No,” I want to say, except no words come out. Muddy kisses me and I can taste it all—his determination, his hope and the confidence I’m about to shatter.
“I am truly sorry,” I say after he releases my mouth. His eyes widen as I raise my hand. Fuck no. Gritting my teeth, I pour every bit of willpower into this body. All I manage is a fraction of a second of hesitation, but it’s enough for Muddy to catch my wrist. The arrowhead clutters on the ground.
“What were you thinking?” Muddy demands, gripping my wrist, going off-script, and I sink to my knees in relief. I press my head against his thigh, and I feel him go still. “Brandon, let us go,” Muddy says in a gentle voice. “I can take you anywhere you want.”
Part of my mind, Brandon’s mind, rebels. “They have my mother, my brothers,” I repeat like a broken toy, but another part of me who has seen this scene knows Brandon’s mother and brothers are dead. My mind moves at a sluggish pace. If we leave, the wolves won’t come and tie Brandon to the stake. No curse. It can’t be that easy, because nothing in life worth fighting for ever is.
“Muddy, we’ll confront them. Talk to them. Negotiate a deal.”
Muddy snorts. “Those animals will not listen.”
“Will you try, for me?” I plead. Muddy looks at me for a moment, and then lets out a heavy sigh. He shifts and I mount his back with aching familiarity. I run my fingers across the familiar ridges of his back, over his gleaming bronze scales.
“My dragon,” I whisper, knowing Muddy hears the words. He unfurls his wings, and we fly out of the cave’s mouth. It’s not hard to pinpoint the angry pack. Even from above, I see some are in wolf form, while others are in human form, clad in bits of leather and fur, holding hand-made weapons “There.”
Muddy heads over to the pack with a couple of wing strokes. The taunts turn to screams of alarm. One idiot throws a spear at Muddy. Another notches an arrow and lets it fly. None hit Muddy.
“Wait,” I scream, pitching my voice louder. “Witch, listen. Let us pass, or my dragon will burn you and your wolf clan to cinders.”
A female laugh melds into the sound of angry howls and arrogant growls. More spears and arrows, and I grip Muddy’s back, urging him back, but I don’t see the spear thrower up in the trees. Fury ripples in me as it flies true, ripping through the fragile webbing of Muddy’s left wing. He falters. Another throw and we’re going down.
“This fucking can’t be happening,” I whisper. We plummet through the trees, and Muddy lands with a sickening thump on the ground. The pack surrounds us in seconds, but Muddy won’t go down easy. Jets of flame dart from Muddy’s mouth and I get off his back quickly. Brandon’s body isn’t as tough or strong as mine, but I make do.
“Witch,” I scream, using the tone I use to quiet down unruly pups in the pack. “Listen or face extinction.”
The huge man wearing nothing but a wolf head pelt I assume to be the Alpha snarls, but a woman in furs presses a hand towards his chest. The rest of the wolves let her pass. I press a hand over Muddy’s nostrils, and he pauses, letting me make the move.
“This isn’t real,” I tell the witch as she approaches, watching me with ancient ruby eyes.
“Oh, I assure you this is real, wolfling. If you and your dragon die here, you will not be able to return to the present.”
I try another tactic. “Lavinia is the last of your line and she has no nieces or daughters to carry the curse. She lost her husband a few months ago and all she has is your senseless hate. You may not give a damn about Muddy’s suffering, but how about Lavinia?”
That gives the witch pause, and I hear bones popping. Muddy limps to me, and I’m aware of how vulnerable we both are. It’s a show of faith, but one word from the witch and the pack can tear us apart before we reach for our beasts.
“My Alpha and my adopted family’s souls can never rest,” she says, eyes merciless.
“Neither can ours. This cycle is never-ending. If Lavinia dies, who will carry your memories?” That gives her something to chew about, I notice.
“The bones,” Muddy murmurs beside me, and the witch looks to him, mouth a firm and angry line. “We will find the bones and put all of them in a place of your choosing.”
She shakes her head. “It is not enough.”
“We will pay your price.”
“Will you, wolfing, even without knowing it?” she asks with a mocking smile.
“What do you want?” Muddy asks, voice hoarse, but I have a feeling he knows. I frown at him, trying to keep my anger back.
“What you dragons value most. Give that up, and I will release your beloved’s soul from this cycle,” she says, emotionless, although I can detect exhaustion in her tone. Time for all things to end, Lavinia says, and maybe she is right.
Muddy walks up to her, keeps on moving despite me holding on. He drags me along, and extends one hand to her. “Witch, I offer you my immortality.”
“Muddy, no!” I scream.
“I accept,” she says with a sigh. The forest and the angry pack dissolve around us. The ground underneath us gives way but I feel Muddy’s hand in mine, tethering me back to reality.