Stormfeather

They walked down the hill back to the house in the dark and Amy looked at Stormfeather a little now and then.

"What went on back there, exactly?" she asked, "Why aren't we going to help those others?"

He walked a few steps in silence, but then she saw him turn to her for a moment. "In your life, Sheena, how many travelers have you seen before tonight?"

"Well, "she said as they walked on, "counting you, exactly one."

She could see him nod once. "No matter what was said tonight, in my long life," he said, "I have seen only a handful; the one that made me and one other -- and I killed him. When I came here, I met the male back there. Tonight, he was back with two others. They talked about the suffering of many, but I do not feel as though I am any sort of kin to them. It would be different if we were part of a tribe, maybe.

What they told of has gone on for a long time," he said with a shrug, "If I think of it all in a way that each of them was telling some of the truth at least, then there is a risk to us to go there. I was told that all of us must go there, but I was never really told why we must. I do feel a little pull, but not much, and not enough to want to run in without thinking about it first.

You said that you would like a year," he said. "I think that may be long enough to try to learn more and think. Nothing will change there in that time. I have been alone for so long. I want a little time to enjoy what we have first, and also, I want time for you to dream-walk. Maybe you can see more of this than what was said. What do you think?"

Amy was silent for a little while. "Maybe it would feel different to me if I knew them, so I understand what you're saying, and if we were threatened, then I guess I'd feel a lot different about it. I don't feel any pull toward that cave at all."

"I hear it from several voices now," he said, "from the one who made me, it had the sound of what had to be to come here, but I have never felt a strong pull. It was only something very small that was there. The old one sounds a little different to me now in his words. At first, he was as a helpful guide. This night, I heard some desperation."

They walked onto the porch and went inside. Amy picked up the old kettle, swirling it around a little to see how much water there was left. Satisfied, she set it onto the stove and added a little wood. "There's something that really bothers me about everything," she said, "If it's so bad in there, the mother ought to just leave with her daughter. She used to be human, I think, so she'd know better how to live out here. If we're this rare and hard to find, why wait for the chance that somebody might come? I think I'd just want my daughter to get the hell out and have a chance at some kind of life -- even if it's just to travel."

"I had the same thoughts," Arn said, "and more. How is it that the daughter -- who was born a traveler -- if she is to be believed, and then taken inside by her parents, can speak the same as you and I? Is this the speech of the ones inside? After so many years? The female who kept me from dying did not speak like this, though from what I think, she had never been to the place. We spoke together in the tongues of our different peoples to each other and had trouble often with the words. I learned other tongues from my travels, and I have been traveling a long time. How we speak now is different from what it once was -- a little, anyway."

They sat sipping coffee, tossing the thoughts which came to them back and forth. No matter what or how they tried to look at it, there was so much which made no sense, huge gaps where their knowledge ended.

"Let's go back to our first time in bed together," Amy said, "I didn't know what the hell was going on -- and really, I was overcome with it all. But you said after that you felt that it had to be -- and I felt that, too. Why would this all have been the way that it felt set out for us if what we find up there is like that? I can't understand that part."

Arn nodded, "I feel that something is wrong. Think of it like this, as what you are now, you can harm and kill many humans, if it was what you wanted to do. How is it that those ones there live in fear of men? What is a mage?"

"It's a word for a magician, or a sorcerer," Amy said. "It's a word from out of stories -- children's stories, mostly. It means a human man who can work magic. The younger one seemed to use the word in a bit of fear, from the way that I felt as she told her story."

He thought about it for a minute. "If that place has the same magic that I feel near the cave, then it might be." He looked at her for a moment, "Did you feel anything of it when we were there?"

"I felt something," she nodded, "I don't know what it was, though."

"I think it was a good sign," Arn smiled, reaching for her hand. Amy watched as she allowed him to lay her hand out palm-up and move her fingers.

"Hold each finger where I leave it when I let go," he said, pulling one after another into place, "Empty your mind of any thoughts."

She smirked, "You mean like the ones I'm having now wondering what's suddenly gotten into you?"

She watched his eyes look up into hers for a moment. "Yes," he smiled, "those ones."

When he was satisfied, he sat back. "Is your mind empty now?"

"It never is," she smiled, "but I'm not having the usual thoughts about dragging you off to bed for the moment. I guess you could say that it's quiet in my head for now. What are you doing?"

"That is already one thought too many. Stop thinking."

She nodded and sat still.

Arn made a motion and she saw a tiny little pearl of dim light in his hand. He brought the tips of all of his own fingers together and moved one of her fingertips a little away from the others before turning his hand over to place his fingers onto hers.

The pearl oozed from between his fingertips onto her palm in a long and shimmering string. "Do nothing for the moment," he said, looking intently at it. When the last bit had passed to her, he removed his hand and pushed her fingertip to close the cage that he'd made of her hand.

"It lies there in the hollow of your hand," he said, "Think that you would like it to be a little warm, and then try to make it grow -"

Amy's fingertips found themselves being forced apart as Arn reached forward to hold them together. "A little," he said.

The ball disappeared.

"It's gone," she said.

He shook his head, "No, it is still there, only smaller. Make it a little bigger."

The little sphere appeared again as it quickly grew to stop a little larger than it had been at first.

"What is it?" Amy said, not daring to take her eyes from it.

"A bit of the magic here in another form," he smiled, "Like this, it can be made to do almost anything with your will."

Amy laughed a little as she caused it to grow and shrink for a moment. She lifted her hand and found that it behaved as a viscous fluid to some extent, but that it couldn't be made to separate into droplets. She opened her fingers and tried to prod it, but found that it couldn't be divided and flowed back to itself.

He anticipated her question, "It is the amount that I chose for this. It cannot be pulled apart. If you knew more -- and you will -- there is enough here in your hand to destroy the ridge. Feel it as you play with it. You can make it as large as the house, or so small that it cannot be seen, but it is still the same amount that I chose. Feel inside of it with your mind."

"I don't understand," Amy said, "How is it that I've never been able to do anything like this before?"

"Have you ever tried?" He asked with a smile.

"Well no," she said, "but is this because of what I am now?"

He shook his head, "Because of something else. This is rare, and has little to do with our kind. Among humans, it happens more often with females. There is another reason that you can do this. It is only easier here and would be a little harder in another place. Think."

Amy puzzled as she played with the pearl for a moment. "I still don't get it," she shrugged carefully.

"Who are you tied to? Who bit you?" he asked.

Amy grinned, "Thank you then."

He smiled, "You might have been able to do this before, I do not know. But I think it helps that we love each other."

He sat back, watching for several minutes, until he passed his hand over hers and the substance disappeared. Amy looked up, feeling that it was gone this time.

"But I liked it," she said.

"Make your own, then," he smiled, "Call it to you, but choose how much, and only a little," he said as he moved her fingertips in a pattern. After several tries, she had the motions.

"Quickly and as close to one thought as you can," he suggested.

Over twenty-odd tries later, Amy had a small dot in her hand again. Arn told her that this was the basis for everything else, whether large or small, hot or cold, fire or lightning -- and if she wished for it to be able to act on the reality around her or to be only an illusion. As he spoke, he saw her apply the qualities as he mentioned them, and he was surprised at how quickly she could think her thoughts into reality with it. He watched little pearly animal replicas appear in her hand as well, a tiny kitten with molten fur, or a little steer for only a second.

"It must be returned always or the debt comes from you. I knew it was in you. You can use it to show or become your desires and -- "

He stopped, staring at the fairly crude, but life-sized approximation of his own penis which suddenly appeared lying rigidly across her hand, solid and real in all respects.

"Send it back," he laughed, "let it go. You know how and I have seen that you have ability."

"Sorry," she grinned, "I couldn't help the thought."

"Practice more at another time," he said, standing up to take her now-empty hand.

She got to her feet, laughing a little as she followed him to bed, "Well you said that it was in me and the next thing I knew, there it was in my hand and -"

"I know," he interrupted, "I have no wish to see what you might get out of it. Come."

"Well that's what I was thinking," she giggled.

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She opened her eyes and looked down at the horizon not far off in the dim light of the banked fire in the hearth downstairs. Amy could hear her heart as it pounded, though each beat was just a little softer than the last as her breathing settled. The fire snapped now and then as a coal popped quietly. Her sense of hearing shifted around the room, settling for a moment on the rhythmic exhalations of Winky lying not far off.

Beyond the nearest horizon of her own body, she saw another one, made by the outline of his head and ears and beyond that, there was one more comprised of his shoulders. There were more horizons out even farther away, but they didn't hold her gaze as her eyes narrowed a little on what she could see of his face.

She heard his breath as he let it out and the warm air came to her as a thrill just before his tongue slipped out to lick her slowly one last time, just because he couldn't help doing it for the way that it caused her to inhale.

She watched his eyes open to look at her in the darkness. He didn't move and neither did she as she marveled at so many things, the newness of her fur, for one thing.

They looked at each other for a few moments, and then she saw those eyes rise higher over the horizon of her body as he began to lift himself slowly to crawl up higher. With his departure, she felt the slight loss of the warmth of his presence from where he'd been and the air on the mixture of his semen and his saliva along with her own wetness brought her a slight and very delicious little thrill. When his head rested on the pillow beside hers, she rolled onto her side and she reached for him to kiss him softly as she tasted herself on his lips.

"Is that your answer, Arn?" she sighed as she ran her hands over his ears.

"Yes," he whispered and nodded with a little motion, "my answer is yes."

Amy smiled and thanked him as she pulled his head to her breast and brought her leg up over his waist. When she pulled him closer, he pulled her to him as well and they made the small adjustments that each of them would need to be able to sleep.

Amy woke up once a couple of hours before the dawn. She found herself on her back with his arm over her and his hand on her hip. If it weren't for one thing, she knew she'd likely roll toward him again and fall back asleep. But that one thing settled her chin on Amy's fur-covered abdomen as gently as she could.

Amy opened her eyes and lifted her head just a little to see the pair of eyes looking back at her. Amy smirked for a moment and she heard the slow swish of a tail on the bed as a hopeful response. Amy brought her hand up to rest on Winky's head as she eased her own head back down on the pillow and closed her eyes again. A girl could do far worse than have a pair of warm furry bodies against her on a cold night, she thought, though it wasn't cold at all where they were. Her visions had told her that there would be a few cold nights in their future.

Winky really wanted to jump and prance from the way that she felt the acceptance of her new pack. It had felt like a huge risk for her to climb up onto the bed as carefully and slowly as she could, but she wanted to be with them tonight. But wolves know that there is a time for everything, and this was the time to be quiet and enjoy her sense of belonging. She'd prance and play in the morning. For now, she heaved a long quiet groan and closed her eyes. Amy smiled and pet Winky's head for a moment.

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The next time that Amy awoke, it was because Winky had raised her head, growled low in her throat, and jumped off the bed to run downstairs and growl by the door.

Amy got up and walked to the window, wondering what was going on, since the sun hadn't really risen yet. She heard quiet voices coming from the direction of the rise, and after a moment, she saw the pair of females from the previous evening as they came into view. Though both seemed agitated, it looked to her as though the mother was telling the younger one what to do, and was having some trouble doing it.

Amy heard Arn stir and sit up behind her.

"The mother and daughter pair that we met last night," she said. She went downstairs and opened the door.

Winky stopped growling and stood there beside Amy sniffing. What Amy noticed was that the two werewolves weren't very superior in their demeanor this morning.

"Come to borrow a cup of flour?" Amy asked as she leaned against the doorframe, doing her best to offer a small smile.

The younger one looked to have no idea about the remark, but the mother shook her head. "If you have the time," she said, "I wish to speak with you."

Arn said good morning as he brushed past on his way to fill the kettle with water.

Amy had about a half-dozen catty lines waiting on her tongue, but thought better of it, seeing that they seemed to be a bit upset, mostly with each other.

As they stepped inside, the older one looked around. "It looks almost the same," she remarked.

"The same as what?" Amy asked.

"The same as the day that I last saw it," the female said, "before your family came. My husband sold it to them. He built it with his brother, before the brother died. There are more buildings now, but the house is the same."

Amy stared as Arn came in to put the kettle on the woodstove. He stirred the ashes, but there were no live coals anymore, so he began to build the fire.

"I thought that my father built this," Amy said, "though I never asked him about it, I guess. I just assumed it."

"No," the other said, shaking her head, "There was nothing here when I came."

"How long ago was that?"Arn asked, looking over.

"Not thirty years," she said, "Perhaps I should explain. It is a long story, but I can tell it quickly."

The pair stared as Arn moved his hand and a flame grew there in his palm for a moment before it flew into the stove and the fire caught an instant later. The two looked at each other for a moment, and the mother began.

"My name is Elsbeth," she said. I was born in Schleswig in the year 1721, and I was bitten in 1744. It was a part of Denmark then. I lived there until 1810 when I came here with my husband at the time."

The younger female gaped at her mother, who only smirked at her, "Oh come on, Marie. I am a female. How was I to live otherwise? I had a choice of running in the forest or finding a man. I have done both, but it is better to have a male of some kind to hold at night. I found no males like me there, but I have had a few husbands by posing as a human woman. I had to. It's not difficult, but I found that I had no safe way to bite them if they wanted that. Most go mad and are killed soon after. You can have a good life for a few years if you can control yourself and not bite them until they clamor for you to give them sons. It usually falls apart then.

I left to journey here and met an American army officer. We came west for his posting, but he was killed. I wandered and came here because I felt drawn to it. When I got here, I met two brothers who were beginning a farm. It didn't take long before Marie's father and I fell in love. I never hid what I was from them, but suddenly, the brother began to think that I was some demon and tried to kill me whenever he could, so I stayed near to the one I was in love with.

But you cannot do that all of the time, and it came to a fight between the brothers. My man would have lost, so I helped him and we buried the brother. Not long after, my man asked me to bite him and I agreed if he would let me tie him to a tree until the change was past. We lived here for a year and found that we could keep no animals, and you need a horse or two even if you only plant beans.

So we found the caves and decided to go there because we'd spoken to the same old fool that you did," she said looking at Arn. "My man was taken during our third year there and I was left to raise four whelps alone. One of them didn't live to see his twelfth birthday in freedom."

Arn made them coffee and offered it to them all. Marie didn't like it much, but Elsbeth smiled and thanked him.

"Why are you here this morning?" Amy asked.

"Things are a little different today and I can speak plainly and not have to pretend that I want you to go into the cave for the others," Elsbeth said.

"For a long time, I listened to the old one now and again," she said, "but I never let him see where I lived, and I moved my den often. Listening to him a few days ago, he told us of you, but there was something in how he said it. I have always thought that he was too eager to get help for the chained ones, but I have never trusted anyone since I had to go on alone. Something bothered me. Those who listened to him never return. That is how I lost my mate, so I never trusted him, but I could not say why. I just didn't.

He came to find us so that there would be three voices when you both came, but he didn't see us as I watched him with a few others hidden in the grass. Before he came to meet us, he spoke to a man! One of the same ones who keep our kind chained! The man was a watcher, one of the ones who control the minds of the chained ones. They spoke together in an Old Norse tongue, though I did not understand it all. I only heard him tell of you -- that he was sure that you would come soon. The watcher was pleased.

The men there are not the same as they are here. They are larger, like small giants. We had a word for it in the old stories where I was born. We called them jotnar, though they were just in the stories and sagas that I heard at my grandfather's knee as a child. I never thought I would ever see one like that until I came here."