Long Snows Moon (11 page)

“What is
your
magic?”

Transmutation.

“What am I changing into?” Devon asked
amused.

A believer. A seeker.

Devon nodded and drank some more. “I thought
snakes represented the underworld.”

I teach death and rebirth, new awakenings,
sexuality.

Devon nodded and said, “I’ll drink to
that.”

Keep your wits about you. We are all prey to
some other creature.

The snake slithered away and blended with the
ground. Devon shivered and looked around the clearing. She saw
Jameson’s rock formation. She crawled over and strained to make out
the form. “Weareallone. That doesn’t make sense,” Devon muttered.
She separated the words. “We are alone,” Devon, breathed, “hell,
that’s spooky. Others must have been lost out here.”

“She read it wrong,” Jameson whispered to the
raven.

For now. She will understand in time.

“I’m going to her. She’s freezing and scared
to death. I can’t leave her.”

Patience.

Jameson reclined on the cold ground scowling
at the moon. “Patience is for the birds.”

Sometimes, but you do try mine, my dear.

Chapter Fourteen

The raven always
seemed to be spearheading some sort of spiritual shift for Jameson.
He led her into the woods the day the stream dared to swallow her.
He’d done nothing to help when Jameson tried to rescue a fawn from
the icy water. In fact, he abandoned her in one of the darkest
moments of her life. It happened almost two decades ago in the
clearing where Devon now sat.

* * * *

The stream was shallow in places but had
extremely deep points where Jameson couldn’t find the bottom.
Jameson knew the stream well as she had swam and fished there every
summer of her life. It was late in the season and late in the day
when Jameson sat on the bank sketching her own reflection for an
art project in school.

Across the stream, a tiny fawn approached the
edge of the water, its long legs still wobbly and uncertain.
Jameson scanned the woods behind it, puzzled its mother wasn’t
doting close by.

The fawn bent to drink but became alarmed by
a ruckus behind it. It darted from the sound but lost its footing
and slid into the stream. Without hesitation, Jameson tossed her
canvas aside and dove into the water. She took the fawn into her
arms but the animal was terrified and flailed in fear. One small
hoof caught Jameson above her left temple and knocked her out for a
moment. When she came to the fawn was out of her reach and caught
in the current. Jameson tried to stand and slipped into a deep
spot. For that instant, as she was suspended beneath the water,
Jameson wondered if she would ever surface. She couldn’t leave her
mother alone. She could not bear another tragic loss. When her feet
touched the bottom, Jameson punted and exploded from the water. She
swam to the edge and scrambled from the river. She saw the fawn
caught in some roots at the bank a few yards ahead.

Jameson rushed to the animal and lugged it
from the water. She placed her hand on the animal’s side and felt
its ragged breath.

“It’s okay,” Jameson cooed. “It’s going to be
okay, now.”

She cradled the fawn’s head in her lap,
stroking her. Jameson gasped when her hand came away with
blood.

“Oh, no,” Jameson whispered, biting back
tears. “It’s okay, little sister. It’s okay. It’s going to be
okay.”

Jameson rocked and soothed the fawn until her
legs went numb under its weight, until the sun traded places with
the moon. Until the fawn let out a final sigh and surrendered to
the darkness.

Jameson held the dead fawn through the night,
stroking its fur and crying. An owl watched her from across the
stream, its gaze pitiless.

“Go away,” Jameson scowled at it.

Our sister is with her creator now your job
is done.

“My job? What job?” Jameson asked.

You help them cross the bridge
.

“You mean I help them die? No, I don’t want
to, it is too hard. It hurts my heart.”

You were chosen because you are strong and
full of compassion.

“I don’t want to,” Jameson yelled.

Go home, child
. The owl was stern.

“What about the fawn? I can’t leave her
here.”

She belongs to the woods. You may come back
and pay homage to her spirit if you choose, but now she belongs to
the woods.

* * * *

Jameson swiped away tears the memory evoked.
She peered back at Devon who found the stump Jameson carved into a
chair. She had a perfect vantage point of the surrounding woods as
well as a spectacular view of the stream as it shimmered with the
reflection of the moon.

“Remind me to put this in my diary,” Devon
muttered, taking another pull from her dwindling flask. She rested
her head and closed her eyes for a moment but felt the presence
before her. The fawn was close enough to touch.

It observed Devon with patient, empathetic
eyes and spoke in the wind as the others had.

There is a new adventure for you. You must
reconnect with the innocence and gentleness
you have lost.
This is a fresh start.

“What a delicate, beautiful creature,” Devon
breathed.

What a delicate, beautiful creature are
you.

The fawn turned from her and walked into the
stream. It melted into the dark water.

Devon began to cry.

“We are all alone doesn’t make sense, not
with all of the amazing creatures in the woods,” she said. She
crawled back to the rock formation and looked again.

“I’ve heard that before,” Devon whispered. “I
get it now! We are all one! We are all one!”

Now it’s time.

“We are all one, that’s true,” Jameson
announced as she entered the clearing. “Hello Devon.”

“How do you know me?” Devon shielded her eyes
from the flashlight's glare, stunned to see an actual person where
she had expected another animal.

“I found Long Snows Moon.”

“You found Moon? Is she okay? Where is
she?”

“She’s fine. She’s at my store, safe and
sound.”

“Your store?” Devon tried to stand but only
managed to get to her knees.

“Let me help you.” Jameson lowered the
flashlight and knelt in front of her.

Devon gasped when she saw Jameson. “It's
you.” She touched Jameson's face. “Is it really you? I mean is this
real?”

“Yes, I'm real.” Jameson placed Devon's hand
over her heart so she could feel it beating. “I have longed for
you.”

“That's exactly what you always say in my
fantasies, that's how I know you are just another
hallucination.”

“You're having hallucinations?” Jameson
grinned. “Tell me more.”

“I’ve been out here for what seems like days,
in these haunted woods, looking for Moon. I keep having delusions
of animals who speak to me offering magic.”

“I see, and the fantasy part?” Jameson
stroked Devon's hair.

“You come to me in my dreams but they aren't
actual dreams. You miss me and kiss me and keep me from being
lonely.”

“You mean like this?” Jameson slipped a hand
around her waist and another on the back of her neck. She pulled
Devon against her and nuzzled her face. She kissed her ear and
whispered, “I have always been with you.”

“I don’t think you are real,” Devon pushed
Jameson away and reclined on the cold ground. She stretched out and
stared at the star filled sky. “This is the cruelest trick these
woods have played.”

Jameson lounged beside her, lacing her hands
behind her head. “I offer the wisdom of the wolf as you become
aware of your true spirituality. You will learn about balancing
family responsibilities. You will teach sacred wolf magic.”

“Maybe this isn’t a hallucination,” Devon
rose up on an elbow and smiled at Jameson.

“Why?”

“Because the Jameson in my dreams doesn’t
talk this much.” Devon kissed her mouth to quiet her.

She caressed the stranger who was not a
stranger, familiar with her mouth and tongue. Devon moved her hands
along Jameson's body, pausing to squeeze her muscled thighs.

“You work out, I see,” Devon whispered
between kisses.

“Yoga and running.”

“Very nice,” Devon admired as she moved on
top of her.

Jameson took Devon's face in her hands. “I
hope you aren't embarrassed when you realize this isn't a dream,
fantasy, delusion, or hallucination.”

A distant howl chilled her. It sounded like
Moon. She rolled off Jameson. “If this is real then all of it is
real.”

Jameson sat up. “This is spiritual ground.
Some say it is a gateway between the worlds.”

“So the animals were real.” Devon touched her
lips swollen from their kisses. “I'm sorry for being so bold.”

Jameson laughed. “You should see my
fantasies.”

Devon felt shy under Jameson's longing gaze.
She felt the caked blood on her face and stared at her swollen
ankle. “In my fantasies I look a hell of a lot better than
this.”

“I believe this belongs to you.” Jameson
offered her the Gucci loafer.

Devon took the shoe and grimaced. “I don’t
think it fits anymore.”

Jameson placed her hand upon the ankle. “It’s
not broken, but it is badly sprained. I can wrap it for you and
dress the wound on your head.”

“How did you know Moon’s name?”

“I know her, I witnessed her birth.”

Jameson pulled Devon to her feet.

“Of course you did. Sorry, but I don’t think
I can walk.”

“I see that.” Jameson handed her the
flashlight and scooped her up. “I’ll carry you.”

“You can’t carry me. That’s absurd.”

Jameson carted Devon through the trail.
“You’re light as a feather. Relax. My place is closer than you
think. Hang on, though, and hold the light ahead, please.”

“I feel ridiculous.”

“You sure are worrier, Devon.”

Devon liked the way she said her name.

“Seriously, though, I really feel like an
idiot.”

“Why, because I’m carrying you?”

“No, because I left my other shoe back
there.”

Chapter Fifteen

Jameson emerged from
the woods, glistening with sweat despite the frigid
wind.

She felt as though she was coming home for
the first time, carrying her bride over the threshold. She giggled
and put Devon on her feet.

“What’s so funny?” Devon asked.

“I feel like a child again.”

“Me too.”

She turned around and there it was, as grand
as an oak and just as tall, Elks Pass Sundries, the tepee shaped
store.

“It's just as I remembered. Do you and your
mother still live here?”

“Well, my mom died almost ten years ago, but
I still live here.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Me, too,” Jameson admitted.

“You stay out here all alone?”

“Yes.”

“Scary,” Devon frowned, looking back at the
dark woods.

Jameson shrugged. “I guess I’m used to it.
Come on, let’s get inside, I hear someone calling for you.” She
scooped her up and headed to the kitchen door.

“You got my car,” Devon exclaimed as they
passed the greenhouse. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Jameson grinned.

“Hey, there’s the greenhouse where you kept
the wolf puppies,” Devon squealed, channeling her inner child.
“God, this is some weird coincidence, huh? I am almost certain my
mom got Moon here. Am I right?”

“About Moon yes, about coincidence, no.”

“Come on, it’s all a huge coincidence,” Devon
argued as they reached the back door.

“I don’t believe in coincidence. I believe in
destiny.”

She put Devon on her feet again and held her
around the waist to keep her steady. Their eyes locked and Devon
felt as though time slipped and she was a child again.

She reached out, touched Jameson’s hair, and
whispered, “I have never forgotten you.”

“I have often wondered about Shadow
Wolf.”

Devon smiled wanly. “That was the high point
of my vacation that year. Of my life, actually. Do you remember we
almost kissed?”

“Of course, I remember. Sometimes good
memories are hard to come by.”

“Do you always have something wistful to
say?”

“Wisdomisms, that’s what my mom and I used to
call them.”

Devon fluffed her hair and smoothed her
rumpled shirt.

“I better get Moon before she tears down your
door. I can’t wait to check into a nice hotel, take a hot shower,
order room service, and raid the mini bar.”

“You can stay the night here if you want,”
Jameson offered. “It’s not five star, but at least you won’t have
to drive with your swollen ankle. I have an amazing ointment for
your head and a wonderful herbal tea that will ease away your
pain.”

“That’s very tempting.”

“I also happen to have some wine in the
fridge. It’ll be fun. We can have a slumber party and catch up on
the last fifteen or so years.”

“Oh, my god,” Devon breathed as she touched
the heart-shaped locket around Jameson’s’ neck.

“I have never taken it off.”

“I just put mine back on,” Devon smiled. “I
wore it for years but my aunt made me take it off for my sweet
sixteen party.”

Jameson helped Devon into the kitchen. “It
kept us connected.”

Jameson saw the owl on the greenhouse roof,
watching. She scowled at it as she closed the door behind them. As
Devon and Moon shared a playful reunion she watched the owl through
the kitchen window. She sighed with relief when it finally took off
and vanished into the night.

* * * *

Jameson led them upstairs to her loft. Devon
curled up on the couch with Moon beside her.

“This is cozy. I love the recessed lighting
on the ceiling.”

Jameson lit a few candles. “My dad built this
place. He loved unusual architecture. Well I guess that’s obvious.”
She struggled with opening a bottle of wine. “I’ve never been good
at this.”