Black Wolf (9 page)

"Take care of
yourself," Kevin said softly, just before Jesse escaped out the
door. He sounded like he meant it.

Jesse had to
grin. "I do my best. Always."

The
Quicksilver Sphynx
Miscellanea, October 1993

Nick 'Winter

Wow, Samhain's coming
fast! Check out the list of Samhain-related events on the back
page!

Anybody who missed
Exotica's "Wild Hunt" deserves great pity. Covens Winter, Sundark,
and Dandelion went together, and afterwards, being forever faithful
to my readers, I quizzed them for opinions. Unanimous: Exotica has
definitely recovered from "Maeve" and they're back on track. I even
tricked... uh, talked Flynn 'Sundark into writing a review of it,
it's on page 3. I couldn't have said any of it better myself.

The new coven I
mentioned is actual fact. Coven Ailim (that's silver fir, for
anyone behind on their Tree Calendar) has been born. Blessed be,
cousins, and may you love one another long and well. And may you be
only the first of many this coming year.

Eleanor 'Moonstone and
Darcy's handfasting went marvellously. I'm supposed to thank
whoever did the weather, and will whoever made that sinful
chocolate cake kindly step forward and confess? Four covens (at
least) would love to get the recipe. We'll run it here, if the
guilty party doesn't mind. Other than one of Ambra 'Moonstone's
cats deciding she wanted to be cuddled by Eleanor right in the
middle of the invocation to the Goddess, all went smoothly. I don't
believe I'll ever forget the sight of Eleanor swearing her love to
Darcy with a grey and white furball in her arms.

There's going to be a
pet show in December, like the one last year, it'll be on the
weekend of Dec 4th and 5th, in the Community Hall. There are
classes for domestic longhair and shorthair cats, purebred cats, a
few classes for dogs including obedience, and a class for exotic
pets. Judges will include Samantha, Peter 'Blackbird, and Ilya
'Prism. If you want to register for it, stop in at Sam's, there are
forms there to fill out. Like any cat in Haven could give
Samantha's Alfari a challenge for domestic longhair if she ever
entered!

Gardens grew passably
well this year, not as well as last year, but everyone who uses
herb-magic should be all right for the winter. There are half a
dozen people selling a wide variety of herbs, more details of who
has what are up at the White Stag and the other usual places.

Other news, and I'm
going to try to keep my anger on a leash while I write this: Coven
Whitethorn has pulled their most insane trick yet against Coven
Sundark. I won't go into detail, because Sundark asked me not to,
but they gained a new friend out of the mess. Mid-to-late teens,
male, dark, slender, likes to wear black, his name's Jesse. Take it
easy on him if you see him around, he's completely innocent of
magic and badly torn up psychically. As for you, Rebecca... give it
a break already! What are you trying to prove, anyway?

Historical notes:
Lindsay opened Venus Alive, our very own store for the erotic arts,
four years ago on the ninth, despite many people telling her Haven
is too small to keep such a place open. Also in October, seven
years ago the 23rd, Coven Artemisia took over White Stag,
everyone's favourite place for all the necessities of ritual and
ceremony. And last but far from least, Solomon's Seal, the best
bookstore ever, was opened thirty-nine years ago the 25th. October
must be a lucky month for opening new businesses! The nineteenth is
the birthday of one of our Adepts, but I've been strictly forbidden
to tell you which one or how old. I'm sure you can figure it out,
you only have two to choose from.

I've been informed
that Trista 'Merrymoon will be writing an article for us in
November's issue about magic in traditional and historical
blacksmithing. Sounds fascinating to me! Since some mages can work
soft metals without needing a fire, would a mage blacksmith need a
forge at all, I wonder?

6

Eight people
made the living room a bit crowded, but the two covens present had
shared the space cosily and cheerfully with a third coven and a
couple of solitaries so many times that they hardly noticed. Bane
sprawled in one of the chairs, his older brother Bryan sitting on
the floor at his feet and leaning against the chair arm. Deanna and
Cynthia shared the couch with blind witch Naomi, whose broad hips
and large breasts combined with her long walnut-brown hair and
fondness for full skirts made Bryan teasingly nickname her his
peasant wench. The grey husky Gwyn who served as Naomi's eyes lay
at her feet, to all appearances an ordinary contented dog—despite
his mysterious origins as a gift from Bryan's absent roommate
Samantha, whose origins were equally mysterious. Kevin lay on the
floor, his oldest and favourite cousin Lori between him and Flynn,
all three on such a mass of blankets woven earlier by the two mages
from the fading sunlight that it would have made a comfortable
mattress.

Even watching
a movie was more fun this way, Kevin thought. The good-natured
discussion did mean that sometimes it had to be paused for a bit,
but the varying perspectives of his friends always fascinated
Kevin—how people who were so close, and spent so much time
together, could have such diverse viewpoints.

"Pause," Flynn
said suddenly. Lori glanced at him, and the VCR paused itself.
Kevin's first thought was that Flynn needed a bathroom break or a
moment to stretch, or possibly a refill from the array of drinks
and munchies spread on the coffee table, but the thought vanished
instantly when he finally picked up how serious his seer coven-mate
was.

"What's
wrong?" Bryan asked, probably catching Flynn's mood by scent.

Flynn shook
his head. "I don't know, but something is. I can't quite get a grip
on it, but it's really nagging in the back of my mind."

"Then let's
circle and see if we can give you enough of a boost to get a fix on
it," Naomi said practically. "Someone shove the table out of the
way."

The ring
wasn't technically round, working within the space limitations, but
it was good enough for all eight to be within hand-clasping range
of those on either side. Deanna and Cynthia, working together with
the ease of familiarity, cast a circle around them to contain any
energy raised and protect them from outside energy; to Kevin's
senses, it was clearly visible as a glowing rainbow line against
the russet carpet, as easy to see as the webwork of strands that
bound a coven together in or out of circle.

Hands linked
all the way around, and Lori led them through a simple exercise
they all knew well and used often, one to lower barriers and allow
personal energy to flow into a common pool. Kevin tested it
automatically, analysing and identifying the various sources:
varied innate natures and learned skills, the true best strength of
any mixed coven—or better still, more than one. The two wolves were
part of it, wild and primal, but had little to add; this simply
wasn't within their own abilities. Brilliant with fire and
sunlight, his own gifts and Lori's were the most dramatic and,
strictly speaking, the most powerful, though that came at a cost:
they were restricted to that element only. Naomi and Cynthia's came
from a soul-deep connection to all the elements, though Cynthia's
strongest affinity was with air, and being inside, air's pale
colours were much weaker than he'd seen them outside; Naomi's
inclination was towards earth, especially with plants, and while
its greenish-dark tones were more muted now than they were in
warmer seasons, it nonetheless surged up into the circle with all
the quiet vibrancy of spring growth. Deanna's own bond to the earth
was very different, not so useful for summoning or manipulating
power, but it ran deep as the roots of a tree and could ground and
stabilize it at even very high levels. Flynn's contribution was a
more subtle shimmer that danced into bright sparkles each time his
inner sight gave him another bit of information—and currently, the
sparkles were a cascade, surging and ebbing without ever entirely
fading.

"Something's
certainly trying to get through to you," Kevin observed. "What
would you like to try first? Your cards?" It was a safe bet that
Flynn had his cards somewhere on his person; they were rarely out
of his reach.

Flynn nodded,
brought them out of somewhere, shuffled them, and handed them to
Bryan. "Pick one, then give them to Cynthi."

When they
finished, there were eight cards chosen. Flynn took them, kept them
in order, and started laying them face up in a matching circle
before him on the carpet.

A wolf in
silhouette, howling at the full moon. A skull. A simple pentagram
of five lines in a circle, black on white. A grinning gargoyle, its
hide a muddy brown-green, crouched with wings spread and claws
extended. A tangle of thorny vines and bright roses. An androgynous
elf standing in the midst of a rainbow halo of light, hands raised.
A pair of crossed swords. A serpent coiled in an infinity
symbol.

"Oh, hell,"
Flynn breathed. "We've got lack of hope, magic, a predator
involved, protection from a threat, conflict… Generally, kids,
someone is in deep trouble and needs help." He gazed at the layout
for a moment, his eyes only half focused. "And y'know, I suspect
that it's probably Jesse. We haven't seen him in a couple of
months, and he hasn't even phoned in almost three weeks, but
there's still enough of a connection there that it would make sense
for me to pick up on serious danger—say, a predator. And that
unfinished business card I keep getting whenever I try readings on
him is in there, and the Wolf with it."

"Well, what do
we do?" Bane asked impatiently. Kevin doubted Bane cared about
Jesse's wellbeing specifically, but protective behaviour came
naturally to the wolves, and he suspected Bane had classified Jess
as Kevin's pet project. Besides, a predator stalking a wolf, even
one unaware and possibly permanently unable to change, would feel
too much like an intolerable insult to wolves in general.

"I think we
need a bit more info on the current situation before we go charging
off to the rescue." Flynn gathered his cards together, but kept
them cradled loosely in his hands as he closed his eyes, sat up
straighter, and slowed his breathing. Kevin watched the sparkles
accelerate into a dazzling display of rainbow fireworks as Flynn's
concentration deepened, swirling into the currents of power linking
the circle and using that power to spread outside in a broad misty
stream, towards the south.

The others
waited patiently. Kevin and Lori were at a distinct disadvantage,
with neither sunlight nor moonlight available, not even any reason
earlier in the day to collect and store as much as possible. The
witches, and especially Naomi, compensated for it, feeding power
into the common pool, where the mages could monitor the currents
and Deanna, simply by being Deanna, kept it steady and stable. The
wolves stayed alert, ready for their chance to act when or if that
came.

Flynn's
violet-grey eyes opened, but they were fixed on something far
away.

"Oh no… that's
definitely a predator, and it's definitely stalking Jesse…"

"What can we
do?" Kevin demanded.

"Working on
it," Flynn said distantly. "Right now, put all the power you can
behind wishing him luck."

* * *

Jesse scanned
the street and the people moving about in the glow of the
streetlights, sighed, and leaned back against the wall. By the
clock on the church tower, it was past eight-thirty, Shaine was
supposed to meet him here ages ago. He could be late for any of a
number of reasons; Jess just hoped it wasn't trouble, and that he
wouldn't be much longer.

"Hey, there."
A low voice, a man's. Jesse looked towards it—and froze. There was
nothing visible to mark him, just a generally average brown-haired
man of middle years in a sport jacket and blue jeans. Even past the
city's background of odours, the stranger was close enough for
Jesse to pick up his scent, and something about it was just not
right, though it was nothing he could put a name to. Every instinct
screamed
Danger!
at him and his skin crawled at the thought
of those hands touching him.

"Yeah?" he
said curtly.

"Up for a good
time?"

"Nah. Just
hangin' around waiting for a friend."

"I could be a
friend."

"A particular
friend, thanks." He left the corner, and moved down half a block.
That should take care of it.

He was
followed.

"I don't like
being turned down," the man said, menace in the softness of his
voice.

"That's your
problem, not mine." He moved again. Not too uncommon, this problem;
his appearance was a mixed blessing, and a definite curse in a
situation like this. No one seemed to believe that five-foot-five
and one-twenty-five pounds of good-looking teenager could be any
danger. Fighting was best avoided, since it led to trouble.

The little
voice in the back of his mind urging him to stand and fight, he
dismissed as some sort of death-wish, and a particularly stupid one
at that.

The stranger
followed again.

"Would you get
off my fucking case?" Jesse snapped. "Not interested." He evaded an
overly familiar hand, decided to give up and clear out.