I laid on my back, a mix of exhaustion and jitters washing over me.
My head pounded, and the rest of my body wasn’t doing much better, but at least I was alive.
That had been stressful, to say the least. The Silent Straits had always been one of my least favorite parts of the Pass, but it had never felt so hungry before. It had always been a passive observer waiting for someone to make a mistake. But there hadn’t been anything passive about that.
Blair, who had been laying beside me, rolled to her feet. Not bothering to turn my head, I followed her with my eyes.
She turned and stared me down. I wasn’t an expert in wolf expressions, but there weren’t too many things she’d be asking about right now.
“I don’t know what the hell that was about. It’s never done anything even remotely close to that before. It was always oppressive but not…not that.”
Blair narrowed her eyes slightly but nodded.
“You’re going to have to change back. The next region needs constant talking. And while I’m more than capable of doing that the whole time, I doubt you want me to talk at you for an hour.”
Blair had started to turn away when I continued. “And, Blair.” She glanced back at me. Her ears perked forward. “Thank you. If you hadn’t kept your head back there, I wouldn’t have made it out.”
She nodded, then gave me a wolfish grin.
~<>~<>~
A half-hour later, she had changed back and quickly got dressed in the same pair of jeans and plain white tee. She started digging through her pack, paused to pull out a bomber jacket, then resumed searching.
“Let’s have lunch before we move on. Shifting takes a lot of calories.”
My stomach rumbled at the thought of lunch, and I slowly started pulling myself to my feet.
Blair noticed my struggle and paused, a can of spam in one hand. She was staring at me as I’d just grown an extra head.
“What? Is it my face? I don’t remember hitting it, but that might be a bad sign now that I’m thinking about it.”
She shook her head, her ponytail bouncing with the motion.
“No, your face is fine, I- you’re hurt.”
I blinked. Slowly. “…Yeah. I- ah. You mean I’m still hurt.” She frowned and nodded.
“Haven’t spent too much time around humans, I’m guessing?”
“No. I haven’t. I knew intellectually that you don’t heal like we do. I suppose it didn’t sink in.”
I grunted. “Yeah, we recover like little bitches compared to you. You get used to it.” I winced as my now battered legs protested all this moving around business. “Or not. But hey, them’s the brakes.”
Blair continued to frown as I hobbled over to my pack.
She was worrying over nothing. While I was hurting, nothing was seriously damaged. Well, my head felt like I had taken a sledgehammer to the temple. But aside from that, nothing was seriously damaged.
I just needed to do a few stretches, and I would be fine. Or at least good enough to keep going.
Before I could start the slow process of leaning down, Blair cut me off. She knelt next to my pack and opened it up. “I got it. You want food, right?”
I frowned, but I didn’t have the energy to argue with her. If she wanted to help me, I’d let her.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“Which section is foodstuffs…” She trailed off as she saw the unorganized mess inside. I had been concerned with making sure I had everything in the pack. I’d shown far less care for how things were in the pack.
“It’s in there…somewhere.”
Blair looked up at me like I’d stabbed her.
“It’s not that bad!”
She gave my pack another pained look then started digging for food.
“Oh, come on! You didn’t react to Grumpy with this much emotion!”
“I’m starting to think Grumpy wasn’t that bad after seeing this shit,” she grumbled.
I laughed. “I see! Malicious beings of vast power are one thing, but messy bags are a step too far?”
She held her hand out flat. “Grumpy.” She moved her hand up as far as she could. “Messy bags.”
We chuckled. Blair found the sandwich I had packed faster than I could have. Probably sniffed it out.
Sandwich in hand, I settled down on a nearby stump.
I unwrapped my food and took a bite. Tension rolled off me as I sagged in relief. It wasn’t gone, but the meaty food and a bit of joking around did wonders.
Blair pulled out enough food for three people and started going to town.
Cans of soup, an overstuffed sandwich, a block of cheese, she descended on all of it with gusto.
I took another bite of my sandwich as I watched her eat like the food was going to run away.
I knew that werewolves ate more than humans, but I hadn’t realized just how much more food they needed.
Well, all that canned food explained why her pack was so unreasonably heavy.
A few minutes later, we finished our food and got ready to head out.
“Alright, so normally we would actually sleep here since the Straits usually take a lot longer to walk through. But-uh, we made good time. So I guess we’ll just keep going.”
I glanced at the trail. The next region wasn’t going to have any awful surprises. While I had never traveled the Pass with someone before, I had the memories of several people who had. The Whispering Wraiths responded the same to two people as they did to one.
Part of me really wanted to just rest, but the following regions were relatively simple, and thanks to the werewolf express, we had plenty of daylight left.
“We’re heading into The Whispering Wraths. This region is also simple. Talk, and don’t stop. As long as we keep talking, we’ll be fine. However, if we let the conversation drop for more than a handful of seconds, the wraiths start to creep in.”
“Can your magic affect these wraiths?”
I shrugged. “Maybe, but I’m in no hurry to find out.”
Blair stretched, her pack jingling with the sound of cans. She frowned, then took off her pack and started rearranging things.
“Really?”
“It would drive me insane, the sound might annoy you, but it’s a lot worse on my ears.”
“Fair.” I eyed her. “And it’s unorganized.”
She nodded. “And it’s unorganized.”
After a minute of rearranging, we started walking again.
The trail continued to slope down, and the trees thickened, the maples gradually shifting back to dark pines. The massive things stretched overhead, darkening the Pass and adding a sinister atmosphere. A wet mist rose, snaking between the trees and drifting over the trail.
“Isn’t this a little odd?” Blair asked as a streamer of mist twisted between us. “First, we can’t talk at all. Now we need to talk?”
“Yeah, it’s a little strange. The two neighboring regions are polar opposites to one another. Maybe it’s some kind of magical balance thingy.”
She quirked a brow. “Magical balance thingy?”
I nodded. “Precisely. I didn’t mean to flex with the technical jargon.”
“Ah, I see,” she laughed.
A branch cracked, and Blair’s gaze snapped to the trees. A moment later, her nose flared.
I didn’t know if she could smell magic, but the Pass probably smelled really weird if she could.
“So, what does the next zone look like?”
I pursed my lips. “Pretty much like this, just a little eerier. You’re gonna see things out of the corner of your eyes. Ignore them. So long as we keep talking, the wraiths can’t close in.”
“And you’re sure nothing is going to go wrong this time?”
“I’d never seen two people go through the Straits before. I have seen a group go through the Wraiths.”
“Seen? You haven’t traveled with a group yourself?”
I shut up. I had memories, but they weren’t me. Even if I saw them in the first person, they weren’t me.
But I had never explained the cost of my magic to any living person, and I didn’t want to start now.
How did I dodge the question? I couldn’t think of a way to avoid it without being obvious.
Well, just be obvious then.
“I have seen a group travel through parts of the Pass. This information is one hundred percent reliable. You can smell that I’m being honest. I would prefer not to elaborate further.”
Would she accept that or push harder?
Blair’s mask rose, and dark blue eyes settled on me. We walked in silence as she studied me but didn’t press.
The path darkened further as the mist thickened. Shallow whispers started up at the edge of my hearing, and out of the corner of my eye, I caught dark shapes moving through the mist.
I took a drink from my water bottle then broke the silence.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Alright, quiet time is over.”
I tried to crack my knuckles but only got a few measly pops. “What are your feelings on Furbies?”
The forms that had begun to circle paused at the sound of my voice.
Blair gave me a look. “Why Furbies?”
“We have to talk about something. Why not Furbies?”
“Because they’re creepy little monsters.”
I nodded. “And now I know that you’re not a psychopath, see? Useful question.”
She snorted. “Alright, I guess I’ll ask something. Hmm, coffee or tea.”
“Coffee,” I answered immediately. “But I’m not opposed to leaf juice. You?”
“Fifty-fifty.”
The forest had continued to thicken around us until the canopy blocked out the sun, casting the trail into twilight.
More wraiths drifted at the edges of sight; their subtle whispers drowned out by our voices.
“Favorite type of food?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Uh, top three?”
“Thai, Italian, and seafood.”
“Just seafood in general?”
She nodded. “Pretty much, yeah.”
“Hmm. I guess… Japanese, Korean, and fries.”
“Fries? That doesn’t count as a food type.”
“You picked seafood!”
“That’s a much broader type than fries.”
“Bah!”
The mist thickened, brushing against our legs as it completely covered the path.
I needed to find another topic. More than five seconds of quiet was dangerous.
More food-related things? Animals maybe? No time, talk.
“I’ve been wondering about something werewolf-related.”
Blair glanced at me. “Oh?”
“You use the word alpha. Why? I read that the study that coined the term was done on captive wolves that didn’t act like they do in the wild. And that the guy who did the study doesn’t agree with it anymore. He’s spent his time trying to debunk all the alpha stuff. But werewolves still use it.”
Blair paused, realized she couldn’t take her time, then spoke. “Irony.”
“Irony?”
“Yeah, irony. When people started using the term to refer to wolves, some packs started using it ironically. They found it funny. However, It pissed some werewolves off. It made one pack so angry that they started telling other werewolves that they couldn’t call themselves alphas.”
I laughed.
“Yeah, I’m sure you can guess how a bunch of prideful werewolves responded to being told they couldn’t do something. Made the name stick like glue.”
We stepped over a small stream that cut right through the trail.
“Plus, we are not wolves. The whole alpha thing doesn’t apply to real wolves, but it’s a decent enough fit for us. The most trusted and capable member of a pack leads. Leader, alpha, president. Plenty of terms are used. Alpha’s just the most common one right now.”
“Huh, well, the more you know. Kinda great that you adopted a term out of spite, though. I respect that kind of commitment.”
She laughed. “I’ve been wondering about something myself.”
“Shoot.”
“How did you scare George off? I highly doubt you submitted to his bullying, and as isolated as that graveyard is, I wouldn’t put it past him to kill you.”
I smiled. “Oh, he wanted to. But I put him in something of a lose-lose situation. He was going to lose some face regardless of what he did, and then we hit ’em with the ghostly hoard routine.”
“Ghostly hoard?”
“Yeah, we have a couple of moves in the playbook, but that one’s a favorite. All the ghosts in the area come together and start doing some real creepy shit. A ghost child making ominous threats really gets to most people.”
“And a werewolf can’t handle ghostly witnesses. The whole town would know. Though he barely seems to care about that.”
I nodded. “Though he cared enough to back off. But the promises that they would never get a full night’s sleep again certainly helped.”
My smile faltered. “But it wouldn’t work on healthier packs. He was worried about getting shot and looking weak. He would have still killed me, of course. But if he wasn’t worried about his appearance, I might not have lived long enough for ghosts to arrive.”
I gave Blair some side-eye. “Plus, if the spook is fast enough, they don’t even need to worry about getting shot.”
She blushed.
I blinked. I hadn’t been expecting that.
“I… I’m sorry about that.”
She froze. I stopped as well. “What’s wrong?”
She stared at me like I was an alien creature. “That was easy.”
“…Okay? Apology accepted.”
Blair shook her head. “No, that was easy! It’s never easy!” Her hands clenched into fists, and she looked like she was on the verge of shouting.
I was clearly missing something here, but I wasn’t sure what.
“Apologizing isn’t easy for you?”
Blair opened her mouth, then hesitated.
“Take your time. I’ll blather to keep the wraiths away.”
I started saying random crap, with no rhyme or reason to connect the words.
Blair was obviously upset, and I was starting to think this was a werewolf problem.
I had been considering asking about why she seemed to flip flop between aggressive and reasonable. It would have been awkward, but I couldn't avoid awkward questions with the potential power I could be giving them.
But now, maybe I wouldn’t need to ask. I felt shitty, having such a calculating view of her emotional distress, but I couldn’t afford to be squeamish about this.
If I gave them vouchers and they abused that power, or just made the wrong call, then I would have blood on my hands.
“What is your aura?”
“Huh?” The question caught me totally off guard, and it took my brain a few seconds to catch up. Dark, wispy forms had closed in from the mists by the time it did.
The wraiths were indistinct, vaguely humanoid figures that cut through the mist like eels. A frantic whispering tore at us from every direction. The words were impossible to make out, but they grated at my ears.
“Why are you asking?” my brain was running at overdrive. We’d stayed silent for too long, so I couldn’t take my time to gather my thoughts. The wraiths froze at my words, and, thankfully, Blair started talking before I had to blather some more.
“I know you’re a Telss.”
Her talking gave me a few seconds to gather my thoughts. Questions about my aura were dangerous, that was heading in a direction I didn’t like— her words registered, and I stiffened up.
SHIT!
How did she find out? Did she know enough about mage magic to understand how rare spirit auras were? Was it something else?
Blair began to blather to keep the wraiths at bay.
“I— ah, are you going to sell me to the clans?”
Well, there went my chances of trying to deny it. Not that it would have worked anyway.
She gave me a cool look. “No. Did you think I was joking when I named you a friend of the pack?”
Her eyes narrowed, and she took a step closer, looming over me. “I mean what I say, Alder.”
I wanted to believe her, and when I gave it a moment of thought, I realized that I did. If she had wanted to sell me out, she could have done it before we left. A mage clan would have given them their vote in trade for a Telss.
But she hadn’t.
“I- ah, I suppose you would have done that already if that was your plan. Thanks, then. For not selling me out.”
A ring of red pulsed across her eyes. “I don’t go back on my word. So, please, tell me what your aura is.”
Her frown deepened at the word please, as if it caught her off guard.
When you keep something a secret for long enough, the thought of revealing it feels instinctively wrong. But the cat was already out of the bag. She knew I was a Telss, and this was obviously important to her. But why was it important to her?
“Trade offer. I tell you about my aura, and you tell me why you want to know…and why you almost attacked Pebbles.”
Another pulse of red went through her eyes, and if I thought she was looming before, now she was really looming.
It occurred to me—not for the first time this trip—that I was traveling with someone who could kill with a single punch. I didn’t think she would, but it was a uniquely terrifying kind of helplessness.
It was like being a child again. Everyone around you can hurt you, but you can’t return the favor. You lived because the giants around you allowed it.
“Fine,” Blair said after a minute of extremely uncomfortable chattering on my part.
I shifted, causing a bolt of pain to shoot through me. It hadn’t been too bad while we were walking, but we’d stopped long enough for my body to realize just how battered it was.
I figured not to push my luck and go first.
Talking about my aura still felt wrong, but I forced the feeling down. “I can affect ghosts and spirits, obviously. I can weigh them down. And interrupt their magic if I hit them fast enough. They also can’t hide from me.”
“Any other effects? She cut in. “Auras affect emotions. What does yours do?”
“Mainly cause me trouble,” I grumbled. “I have to keep it veiled, partly to avoid attracting a mage’s attention, but also It gives off a certain vibe, which tends to pull in predators. Once had a bear amble up to my front porch, only to lay down and take a nap. But another time, I woke up to a different bear trying to break down my door.
It’s a bit of coin toss as for whether or not my aura will make a predator want to attack me or protect me.”
“That’s it?”
“No. Just give me a second. I’m not used to talking about this.” I took a deep breath. This was harder than I thought it was going to be.
“Its main emotional effect is why it draws predators. It’s… balancing. It just feels kinda cool to me, but for others, it’s like an emotional safe space. It turns someone towards an emotional neutral. Gives them a clear head. But I guess it makes me look like a tempting target to predators.”
I shuffled awkwardly. Blair wasn’t looming anymore, but she was still uncomfortably close.
She didn’t seem to notice.
“It can still be overpowered, though. Someone angry or scared enough is just going to ignore it. But if they were trying to regain control, it would help.”
Blair had never stopped staring at me, but when I mentioned control, her gaze grew so intense that I thought she was trying to stare right through me.
“I…see.”
Her hands clenched and unclenched several times before she found her voice.
“What do you know of werewolf magic?”
“Uh, just the basics. The shift obviously. Increased strength, toughness, and speed. Crazy healing. Oh, and that you get stronger the closer it is to the full moon.”
She nodded. “Our abilities are not the only things that get stronger closer to the full moon. Our instincts increase in proportion to our other strengths. Which is why-” she cut off and shook her head.
“I need to back up a few steps. We have a bond to the moon. It’s in every werewolf from the moment we’re born, and it’s impossible to remove. Not even tearing our soul out would do it.”
I blinked. That was an oddly specific example.
“This Bond grows over time, thickening, deepening. A hundred-year-old werewolf is a very different beast than a twenty-year-old. And the truly ancient of our race are closer to demigods than they are to their younger kin.”
She took a deep breath and forcefully unclenched her hands. It seemed she had as much trouble talking about this as I did about my aura.
“But the Bond isn’t always helpful—the stronger the Bond, the stronger the instincts. Werewolves can… out-pace themselves. In times of war or similar situations where a Were has to fight and draw on their Bond constantly, it grows too fast for our Willpower to keep up.”
My eyes widened as I understood.
“I was born with a Bond comparable to a century-old Were. But not the trained Will to match. Keeping myself from… acting on those instincts. It’s a constant fight.”
“Which is why you almost attacked Pebbles. He was a challenge.”
She clenched her jaw and nodded.
I started blathering as I thought over what she’d told me.
The fact that she was constantly fighting against an unwanted influence and that she might not always win that fight was worrying.
But that was coming from me? I had best be careful not to break any walls in this nice glasshouse.
It was also damn impressive if she was keeping herself…herself and managing to lead her small pack at the same time.
“So apologizing is hard because foreign instincts are screaming at you?” I concluded.
Her gaze sharpened as she snapped, “they are not foreign!”
I leaned back at the force in her words.
“They can be monstrous, but they aren’t some outside force. They’re part of me. The problem isn’t that they exist. It’s that they are out of balance.”
She growled, the sound so deep that it shook the mist. “They change at times, but parts of them are as unchangeable as your body’s response to drowning. It’s hardwired into you. Even if it’s something you don’t like, you can’t just turn it off.
Admitting fault, admitting weakness, it feels wrong around almost everyone.”
She met my eyes. “But you. I was able to apologize, ask instead of demand, and it was easy.”
“My aura.”
“Your aura,” she nodded. “It seems that we got lucky on that coin toss.”
I swallowed as I imagined what Blair would be like if I hadn’t gotten lucky.
“Yeah. Really lucky.”