Black Wolf (18 page)

A tantalizing
scent caught her attention, and she paused to investigate. Hare,
and the trail was fresh. She considered going after it, a fresh
kill would be the crowning pleasure, but decided against a hunt
just now. There'd always be another, and she did want to see the
art displayed in the village. Despite, or perhaps because of, their
weakness, humans and elves and dryads could be fascinatingly
creative. And it went without saying that of course any wolf who
chose to make the effort could turn wild spirit into physical form,
although the others would never truly comprehend what they saw.

Like her own
coven... She turned her thoughts from them in disgust. Why ruin a
pleasant day?

Maybe this art
show would take her mind off it.

Haven was
fairly quiet for a Sunday. Today was the first day of the show, and
the only day she'd have free until the next weekend; nine-to-five
jobs were such a nuisance, but someone had to do them, and better
her at the bank than many she could think of. At least it was
better than the college, which she'd abandoned as pointless
frustration around the time Deanna and Bane had stolen Kevin from
her.

The library
was the first she reached of the places housing the art show. Just
outside the door, she changed back to human, twitched her bright
magesilk skirt into place, and went inside.

The hall just
within was lined with paintings, some of them fairly pleasing to
the eye; one in particular she liked was of a moon rising full
behind winter-bare trees. She wandered along the hall, contentedly
evaluating each painting, and deciding that mostly they were
tolerable but not outstanding.

Not until she
reached the end of the hall did she recognize the two other voices
that were speaking counterpoint with Bryan's: Kevin and Gisela.
Bryan was shelving books, while Kevin straddled a chair backwards
and Gisela perched on a second. Library must be empty, otherwise
they wouldn't be talking full-volume. Discussing the art show, in
fact, and a few ink drawings Sonja was offering for sale that were
at White Stag.

Rebecca
hesitated a moment; she hadn't planned on confronting anyone today,
even Kevin. Yet if she left, she'd never get to see what was
inside.

Head high, she
stepped into the library.

All three
glanced towards her. Bryan greeted her with a neutral nod, Gisela
with a wary expression, and Kevin with, "Heya, Becky, checking out
the art?"

"Yes. I assume
it doesn't stop in the hall."

Bryan
indicated the far end of the room, down where there were chairs and
a couch for those who felt like staying here to read. "There's
another half-dozen or so there."

She inclined
her head in acknowledgement, and wove her way between the shelves.
Behind her, she head Gisela whisper, "How can you be so friendly to
her?" but no reply followed.

Almost-silent
footsteps, Kevin's familiar scent.

"That one's
neat," he commented. "All the faeries hiding in the forest, and you
can't see them unless you really look. Maybe one time the forest
really was alive like that."

"Maybe," she
agreed.

"Jesse's back
in Haven, he has been for a week or so."

"I know."

"But you've
been leaving him alone. Thank you."

That was too
unexpected; she had no reply ready. "Why should I care about him?"
she asked disdainfully.

"I don't know.
Do you care if he's ever whole and healed?"

"No wolf is
whole in this time," she hissed. "I hope he never heals, I hope he
can never shapechange. Then he'll never have to know
half-freedom."

"Freedom's in
your mind. Putting chains on other people because you feel like
there are chains on you is crazy."

"I don't
recall asking what you think."

"True, you
didn't." He sighed. "I just wanted to thank you for staying away
from Jess. Enjoy the art." He turned away, and went back to his
friends.

It wasn't
fair! Kevin was meant to be
hers
, to protect from all the
bad things drawn to mages and to watch over and love and to love
her, and he'd been stolen away from her. By Deanna first; his
present coven kept him away; now that little thief and that damned
healer, they had what should be hers. And he went along with it,
instead of choosing to stand by her.

Anger welling
up hot and strong again... she leashed it firmly, concentrated on
what she was here for. The last painting was of a man on his knees,
eyes closed, in the middle of a field being reaped by women with
sickles; given the sun and moon overhead, the garlands that were
all he wore, she judged it to be the Green God dying with the
harvest. Attractive, but imagery for farmers, not hunters.

Without
acknowledging the presence of anyone but herself and Bryan, she
left the library, tried to decide where next while shifting back to
fur. The Brewery and Venus Alive were both fairly close, and after
them she could do the others.

Much later,
she loped home. She shifted to human on the back porch, and went
through the warm kitchen to the living room.

Karl was
watching TV; he looked away to greet her, and his nostrils flared,
catching some scent.

"What have you
been doing with Kevin?" he growled.

"Is that any
of your business?" She was growing more than a little weary of his
possessive attitude of late.

"Yes! I
thought we decided that August was the last revenge we'd think
about!" He rose, and came to face her. He was only a little less
than a head shorter than her, more solidly built; he'd taken to
wearing unrelieved black which, given his sandy-blonde colouring,
made him look like the walking dead. "Bad enough that you waste
calling demons on telling you things about that new pet of his, but
now you're off socializing with him? After he betrayed us?"

"Stay out of
what you don't understand. And don't you ever question me or
anything I do. Is that clear?"

He challenged
her, holding her gaze for longer than she expected, but in the end
he looked down and said sullenly, "Yes."

"Remember it.
Go on back to your TV and your video games. Some of us have real
lives to live."

"As long as
that life doesn't include Kevin Lioren," Karl growled, but he kept
his eyes down.

"It includes
whomever I wish it to include." She swept by him towards the
stairs, up to her own room where she could close the door, sprawl
on the bed, and let the bittersweet memories flood over her.

She'd come
here to go to the college, of course. It was a given for the highly
gifted who needed to be part of a coven with a wolf to keep them
safe from predators, and for elves and dryads who could only
interbreed with humans for so many generations before their
children became gifted humans instead, and for the wolves who were
responsible for that safety. For anyone else, it was optional, but
who would really want to go to school surrounded by humans who
thought they were all there was and that magic was superstition,
unless it were absolutely unavoidable?

Her third day
of classes, walking back to her aunt Sylvia's house, she'd
seriously wondered whether it could possibly be worth it. People
everywhere, wolves everywhere... she'd been miserably tense for the
past three days, watching every direction at once, though
encounters with other wolves had been carefully neutral on all
sides. High emotions everywhere, making the air thick with scents
and driving voices up to levels that made her wince, anxiety and
optimism, excitement and homesickness.

Perhaps the
most disheartening was that as far as she could tell, everyone
around her was perfectly happy to swallow everything they were told
without question, willing sheep, even the wolves who tamely
accepted leashes and muzzles. Probably she should never have
expected that to be any different here than it was in Endor,
though. After all, much of Endor had been through the college as
well, and had been instilled with the same dogma. Presumably it was
conducive to the harmony and mutual support of the mixed villages
in a hostile world, but it strangled. Couldn't anyone else feel
that?

She'd just
skipped her final class, in fact, unable to bear it and hoping to
walk home without being part of a crowd.

Near a corner,
she'd paused, overhearing voices.

"Not a great
way to start off the school year," a very young female voice said
in exasperation. "Getting everyone mad at you and making one
intramural team look bad?"

"Oh, come on,"
laughed a male voice, also young. "I was doing it so obviously that
no one could possibly claim that Red Team won on skill. And you
have to admit, my way it was a lot less boring to watch."

"A bit
trickier to play, however," said a different male voice, dryly.
"More of a challenge, but it was already too much of a challenge
for half my team-mates to begin with."

"Which is why
I did it. There was no way you guys were going to win, and it was
boring watching Blue keep scoring over and over and over. What's
the point of being a mage if I'm not allowed to use it to keep my
brain from oozing out my ears and running away in self-defence?
C'mon, Dia, I heard you giggling when Alan slipped and I made the
little birds around his head. He wasn't hurt. He's a wolf, paying
attention to a couple of bruises would mean losing face anyway, and
I distracted him."

Curious,
Rebecca resumed walking, and within a few more steps, could see
them. The trio was coming from the direction of the high school,
and she could see the strap of a backpack on the shoulder of each.
One male, who was grinning, was an elf, tall and bright
golden-blonde and white-skinned, all in colourful magesilks; he was
playing with a handful of sunlight, turning it into a bird, then a
flower, then a long ribbon that danced around the three of them
before coming back to his hand. The other male was somewhat
shorter, a duller sandy blonde and tanned, his build more solid,
and also in magesilks but they were muted brown shades. Probably a
wolf. The one female was very likely a dryad, curvy and dark, in an
oak-green magesilk dress that fit and flattered her perfectly and a
matching ribbon braided into her long auburn hair.

"All right, it
was funny," the dryad conceded. "But it wasn't at all funny for
everyone in range trying to grab control of the ball back. And he
wouldn't have fallen at all if you hadn't added an illusory ball
too."

"Then they
shouldn't be trying to fight me directly, now should they?" the elf
said. "Right, like one half-trained mage who's nowhere near as
strong and a handful of telekinetics are going to be able to go
against me?"

Now that was
an interesting statement, delivered in a completely matter-of-fact
tone—coloured now not by amusement but by creeping frustration.

"To be fair,"
the wolf said, "it was better than being bored for another half
hour and being thoroughly beaten. If a few people got annoyed,
well, it's not going to kill them. They should be used to the idea
of Kev being ridiculously strong by now and know better than to try
brute force. I'm not sure asking nicely would have made him listen
but it would have had a better chance of success than trying to
overpower him. I mean, how stupid is that?"

"
Thank
you," the elf said. " At least someone has some appreciation."

"Excuse me,"
Rebecca said, offering them her best smile. "I gather there's a
restaurant around here with no sign, just in case of tourists
wandering through? I can't seem to find it."

All three
paused.

"You're about
four blocks from it," the dryad said, gesturing in what Rebecca
assumed was the correct direction—she hadn't paid much
attention.

"We can show
you where," the elf said. "We're, um, out a bit early and we've got
time. I'm Kevin. That's Deanna, that's Karl. You just started at
the college?"

"Yes. I'm
Rebecca. And thanks. Maybe when we get there, I can buy you a snack
and you can tell me about Haven."

"Snack, the
magic word to an elvenmage," Karl said. Nostrils flared as he took
in her scent; well, she was investigating his, too, though both
played the civilized game on the surface. Wolf dynamics showed in
the details of body language, though: this was his territory and
she was new, but she was older and had the confidence of an alpha,
and he chose to drop his gaze and turn very slightly away in
respect. "This way, milady, after you."

Comfortably
seated in the Brewery, each with a drink and with a shared
appetizer platter to nibble on, they talked: about Haven, about
Endor, about how being in French-speaking Quebec made Endor
different from Haven despite the pragmatic emphasis on
bilingualism, about the trio who already considered themselves a
coven and were unsure whether to bother with the college.

"An elvenmage
needs a wolf around," Karl said. "Especially a really strong one,
obviously. But Kev's already got me. And where Kev goes, Dia goes.
That's just a given. Why look for more than that?"