Read Silver Moon (A Women of Wolf's Point Novel) Online
Authors: Catherine Lundoff
Tags: #fantasy, #werewolves, #esbian, #lycanthropy, #feminist, #middle-aged, #menopause
Shelly and Erin were right behind her. Shelly spoke first, “No, Becca. Don’t step into the pattern. We need it to tap into the magic of the valley.”
Erin’s voice overlapped hers. “Hey, she’s changing back. Becca, hon, you with us again?”
Becca reached up and touched her face again. Everything felt normal, at least for her daytime self. Her cheekbones seemed to be popping through her skin though; she wondered if she looked as haggard as Shelly and Erin did to her. But then, it had been a rough week
She glanced from the pattern at her feet to Shelly. The Pack alpha sighed. “I guess we need to get you caught up. We couldn’t find all the Nesters and Sara…Oya got away. We think they still have their lab and their so-called cure and we’re down a few folks who got wounded.” Shelly grimaced, her anger glowing across her features for a moment. “And if they can get their cure into the town’s water supply or something along those lines, we’re not sure what’ll happen next…”
Erin picked up where she left off. “I spoke with the elders and this is what they thought would work to use the magic of the valley and stop the Nesters once and for all.” She gave Shelly a quick glance, “They weren’t too sure what was going to happen at the end of the ritual though, so I’m going to be the one to try it.”
Becca frowned, “That sounds dangerous.” Her voice came out as a croak but at least the sounds were making sense now. At the moment, though, that felt like the least of her worries. What would she do if something happened to Erin? Fear twisted its way through her gut when no one contradicted her.
Shelly looked like she’d aged a decade in the last minute. She looked at the pattern and didn’t meet Becca’s eyes. “She may not be Erin afterwards.”
“Hey, maybe I won’t survive it at all. Let’s try and be optimistic here,” Erin grinned, her smile a shadow of its former self.
“What do you mean?” Becca felt like throwing up. Or screaming and running through the place extinguishing the torches or anything else that might stop this craziness. This kind of news called for something more than just standing here, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out where to start.
Shelly and Erin exchanged glances but Shelly spoke first, “In order to tap into the valley’s magic, the magic that makes us wolves, someone has to perform some rituals, then channel the energy. It hasn’t been done before in anyone living’s memory. And when they did it last, they didn’t write anything down. We’ve just got a few stories to go by. All the other information we had was at the Women’s Club and you know what happened to that.”
Erin stepped forward, reaching for Becca’s hand. She turned her to face one of the paintings on the wall. It was one of the ones located near the entrance, showing a wolf on two legs with breasts. She was surrounded by a white glow and her arms/paws were outstretched like she was being pulled up into a spaceship or something. There was a second, much smaller drawing of the same figure in the background, running up a mountain.
“It just looks like she’s going after something.” Becca squinted at the wall and stepped closer.
“Well, according to the Circle, she channeled the magic and it changed her. Permanently.” Erin let go of Becca’s hand and was looked at the pictures too. Her face seemed distant, disconnected from what she was seeing.
No!
The thought nearly tore itself out of Becca with a howl. She had to be able to stop this. Or at least to help Erin, somehow. She glanced around wildly, trying to figure out exactly what they were planning. The backpacks were inside the cave, stacked by the entrance. Based on what she’d seen of their contents, she guessed that whatever ritual they were going to try, it would be like the one from the first time she changed. But what other alternatives did they have?
Nothing jumped out at her until she looked back at the pattern. Its center called to her like it was the center of everything that was happening or going to happen. The notion hit her like an electric shock, but she wasn’t sure what it meant. She peered down at floor, trying to puzzle the design out. Finally, she asked, “How does it work?”
Shelly stepped away from the packs, changing places with Erin to stand near Becca. “Well, it’s like a maze, like the ones they use for meditation. Erin will need to follow the pattern through all the loops and turns. Something will happen at each of them, but we’re not really sure what that’ll be. “
“Why does it have to be Erin?” Becca could hear the desperation in her voice and barely controlled a flinch.
“Well, the legend says that it has to be the current alpha of the Pack. Since I was with the Nesters, Erin’s been the alpha—” Shelly stopped abruptly, her eyes haunted.
“They used the cure on you too, didn’t they?” Becca reached out and touched her shoulder gently. Shelly probably couldn’t change now, not if they’d given her multiple shots, given what one dose of that crap had done to her. She would be powerless to lead as a wolf for the time being. And Erin had lost no time volunteering to sacrifice herself. That much was clear.
Becca looked from Shelly and Erin while her thoughts turned over. On the one hand, she couldn’t say Erin was wrong. If this was what needed to happen, she would put herself in danger to save Shelly too. But maybe there was another way. After all, they were planning something dangerous based on hearsay and old stories and some cave art.
Cave art. That struck home and she looked around the walls from one painting to the next, studying each of them. All of them depicted a woman or a wolf or some blend of the two. Each one was shown alone, not surrounded by other wolves. Each painting was distinct from the others from different time periods as well, adding to the impression of isolation. That had to mean something, but what? Wolves weren’t usually on their own.
She tried to imagine handling changing on her own with no Pack support. She’d tried it, tried to run off to Mountainview, and it cost a man his life. He didn’t crop up much in her thoughts and dreams, not lately anyway, but she hadn’t forgotten him either.
Given what he’d done to that little boy, she couldn’t bring herself to regret his death, but maybe, just maybe, if she’d been with the Pack, she might have done something differently. There would have been someone else weighing in before it happened, at least. It might not have changed anything, but then again…
Her thoughts trailed off as she watched Erin do some more unpacking. She had a small drum, a couple of jars with white stuff in them, some feathers and a couple of other things. There was also a long, sharp knife with an ornate black handle. “What’s that for?”
Erin blushed and looked down at the pack. “Well, it’s not like I had a list of things to use. The valley’s magic picks and chooses what it responds to and point of origin doesn’t seem to enter it. I just figured that anything that worked for any of the traditions we knew might work here. From what the Circle said, intent was the main thing, and there are European traditions that call for using a knife to cut through spiritual barriers and channel energy. I figured it couldn’t hurt to have it along.”
“But the pattern looks almost Navajo—is it? Only this section looks more like a maze.” Becca asked, the urge to ask questions rising more from a desire to delay whatever was going to happen than real curiosity. Outside, she could feel the moon rising higher in the sky, calling to her. Instinctively, she knew they’d have to do their ritual soon to be effective.
“I think so. I got part of it from a drawing that Maria, Shelly’s mom, had in her files. The rest, honestly, I got from online.” Erin looked up at Shelly with an apologetic grimace. “There hasn’t really been time to ask what you think. Does this look crazy wrong to you?”
Shelly rubbed her hands over her face and swayed a little on her feet. “God, I wish I knew for sure. Hey, Lizzie, can we borrow you a minute?”
The deputy stepped cautiously inside the cave, glancing approvingly at Becca when she finished blinking in the torchlight. “Nice to see you back. What’s up?”
“Do you remember anything Estella had to say about the old ways, how we used to do things? I can remember bits and pieces but not enough to get us much further than this.” Shelly’s expression was as frustrated as her voice. Her fingers flexed whenever she stretched out her hands, almost as if she was expecting her hands to change. “We lost so much when Margaret died before she could pass everything on.”
Lizzie frowned down at the floor, mouth twisting in thought. “Well, nothing about a pattern that looks like this. There was that thing she used to say about walking the path with the Pack; it might have meant something along these lines. Or it might have been a strong suggestion that we not go out with the wrong sort of boys and start smoking at thirteen,” Lizzie and Shelly exchanged eyerolls. Becca tried and failed to imagine either of them as teenagers.
Lizzie glanced over her shoulder toward the cave mouth and frowned. “Don’t you have to do whatever you’re going to do while the moon is still up? I mean no one knows for sure how they did this in the old days, right? Can you just let the magic tell you what it wants?”
“Out of the mouths of babes,” Erin said with a grin. Becca noted that it was a tired and nervous one, but at least it looked like her usual smile. The one she might not have again if this worked out the way that they feared it would.
“Wait!” Becca held her hands out. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to feel the magic in the cave. Something pushed back gently against her, vanishing the moment she reached for it, like mist. She strained, reaching for whatever it was with every bit of energy she could summon. It hovered just out of range, almost taunting her.
She opened her eyes and stared at the others, frustration making her voice shake. “I think I know what we should do. It’s just there, at the edge of my mind. The one thing that seems clear is that it needs to be all three of us, not just Erin.”
“All three of us doing what?” Erin cocked her head slightly, her jaw seeming to elongate in the flickering light. “Walking the pattern?”
Becca gestured at the walls, cutting Erin and Shelly off before they could argue any more. “Look at them: all of them are alone. But they shouldn’t be. There should be a Pack with them. Right?”
The others looked around. “It’s just paintings of the alphas, Becca. More like memorials than depictions of Pack life,” Shelly said, shrugging.
“It’s still wrong. It’s got to be. We have to do this together,” Becca said, trying to feel more certain as she picked up three candles and lit them. “We need to walk the pattern together to make this work. I’m sure of it.”
Erin looked at Shelly as if for guidance. Shelly gave her a long, baffled look back, then she stepped forward to the edge of the pattern on the floor. “Okay, we’ll try it your way. Give me the knife. Maybe a candle, too. Then you two follow me.”
Erin jumped forward. “No way! I go first. This is my responsibility. I took it on. Besides, I don’t want to face Pete and Kira and the others if something happens to you.” She held the knife in one trembling hand.
Shelly looked like she was going to object but after a moment, she nodded. “All right. If something goes wrong, at least maybe one of us can finish it. Lizzie, can you take the drum? You don’t have to play anything special, just give us a good steady beat.”
“What about guarding this place?” Lizzie looked uncomfortable and Becca couldn’t blame her. If the remaining Nesters knew about the cave and attacked tonight, they’d be sitting ducks. Wolves. Whatever.
“This is more important.” Shelly’s lips quirked upward. “I think.”
Erin let her breath out in what sounded like a sigh. “Let’s get going then. I take point. Shelly, you’re between us. Becca, you’re last. If something happens and I tell you two to jump out of the pattern, do it. Anything goes wrong, it should only happen to me.”
Becca grinned a little. They’d see if that was how it all worked out. She’d protect Erin, somehow. Even if the other woman didn’t want to be protected. She handed lit candles to Shelly and Erin as Lizzie sat down near the cave entrance and started to drum. The sound rolled through the space, echoing until Becca could feel it in her bones.
Shelly murmured something that might have been a prayer or a blessing. Then she stepped forward and put her hand on Erin’s shoulder. Erin faced the pattern, the knife in one hand, a lit taper in the other. Becca joined the line behind them, wondering nervously what was going to happen next, despite her resolve.
They all stood there for a moment. Becca sent out a prayer of her own to whoever might be listening. Her stomach felt like it was filled with lead. What if doing this made all three of them change forever, not just Erin? She tried to shrug the fear away. They needed to try it and that was all there was to it.
Erin stepped forward, entering the pattern. Shelly and Becca followed her, stepping carefully so as to stay within its lines. As Becca stepped inside the lines, she could feel the air part around her, invisible fabric spilling over her shoulders in a wave. She took another step, then another as she followed the others, her awareness narrowing to the women in front of her, the pattern under her feet and the sound of the drum.
That focus was why she banged her nose on Shelly’s shoulder when her boss stopped abruptly. “Ow! Sorry about that,” she murmured, some instinct telling her to keep her voice low. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m not sure. Erin says she’s hit a wall.” Shelly murmured back without taking her eyes off Erin.
Erin had her hands in front of her, still holding the knife and the candle, but now it looked like her knuckles were braced on thin air, as if it was a glass door or window. There didn’t seem to be any obvious edges to it, judging from the way that she was able to spread her arms out and still hit the barrier. She pulled her hands in and bowed her head over the candle for a moment. Becca couldn’t tell if her eyes were closed or not.
Then she straightened up. “Give me your strength,” she said over one shoulder.
What the hell did that mean? Becca was completely baffled. Should they push her through? Jump forward with the candles held out in some kind of Three Musketeers move?
There was a wave of
something
from Shelly, flowing more or less in Erin’s direction. It smelt like wolf, whatever it was, and it settled on Erin’s shoulders like a cloak. Becca bit her lip trying to figure out how to do it. She thought
wolf
and nearly shrieked when she saw her hands begin to lengthen. Not that much wolf, then. Right. She closed her eyes and tried to push mentally in Erin’s direction.