Once Upon a Haunted Moon (The Keeper Saga) (3 page)

A low growl rippled across the water, and startled, Ella looked up.

She sat unmoving, staring straight into a muzzle of bared, sharp teeth. Although she didn’t look, she sensed there were other wolves circling anxiously behind the one whose breath blew hot against her face.

Strangely, Ella wasn’t afraid. Instead, she looked defiantly into the clear brown eyes behind the fangs. She tilted her chin up, stubbornly, and continued her unwavering stare. After all, hadn’t she survived worse things than this?

The wolf’s eyes narrowed, as it stared back at the small thing that smelled of blood, smoke, death…and courage.

It snorted, shook its massive head as if to clear it, then promptly plopped back to its haunches, and whined at the little girl.

Taking it that she had won the test of wills, Ella looked past the gray wolf to the others. She counted five, and they, like the first, all stared back at her solemnly as if she weren’t a threat, or food.

Slowly, Ella got up. The wolf rose just as slowly in an effort not to startle her. With rather exaggerated patience, it came across the creek, its head bowed low until it stopped inches from her, and then raised its head to bump under her hand. The silky fur tickled her palm, and a soft laugh escaped before she could stop it.

The tense moment broken, the wolf licked her hand, wagged his tail, then snagged the hem of her dress gingerly between his teeth, and tugged her across the creek where the others waited.

“I suppose I can go with you, I haven’t anyone else,” Ella murmured, more to herself than to her furry companions, who had seemed, all of a sudden, to have adopted her. Tears sprang to her eyes as she remembered she was indeed orphaned, without another soul in the world she could call her own.

Gentle head butts on her shoulders, and small licks to the tears that ran down her cheeks held proof that the wolves had picked up on the sorrow of the tiny, white-haired creature whose bravery they admired as they herded her slowly through the darkening forest, deeper into the safety of the trees, and farther from the world she had known.

She awoke the next morning in a mountain of warm fur. They had circled her, and piled upon one another like a pack of puppies. She had never felt so warm. She patted the top of the gray head that lay near her, and one brown eye slit open to peek at her. The wolf did a strange sort of snuffle, and then yawned, stretched, and stood up, waking the others as it leapt over them and out of the pile.

Ella’s stomach growled and she stood up and carefully made her way around the furry bodies to a patch of wild strawberries. There she ate until the gray wolf came once again to tug the hem of her dress while the others followed behind them.

The day seemed to stretch on and on, yet they continued to walk. Even though she was tired, Ella never stopped walking. She didn’t have any idea where she was, or where they were going, all she knew was that she didn’t want to be left alone. With them she felt safe.

And safe was all that mattered to her.

She had walked with the wolves all day, and just when Ella thought surely her legs were getting ready to fall right out from beneath her, she spotted curling wisps of smoke above the trees.

Her first instinct was to run, to turn back and run to the safety of the shadows that had saved her before.

Picking up on her fear, the gray wolf stopped and turned to face her. His big, brown eyes stared solemnly into her blue ones until she felt centered and safe once more. He walked around her, giving her hand a quick lick as he went by, and then the next thing she knew she felt a bump that sent her in the air and Ella found herself sprawled rather haphazardly on the wolf’s back.

Stifling a random giggle, while trying to figure out how to hold on, and wondering how and why on earth she had managed to even end up there, she settled for leaning close to the big, furry head, and clung to small fistfuls of his fur.

Once again, the pack of wolves began to move, and from her perch, Ella watched as the smoke got closer. Rather than continue to watch, she snuggled nearer, and buried her face between his shoulders. Tears welled in her eyes, as she thought of her mama, and how she would always sing when Ella or her brother was hurt or afraid.

She desperately missed her mama.

The wolf’s ears twitched back as he listened to the muffled, sad voice sing,

“The water is wide, I cannot cross o’er,

“And neither have I wings to fly…”

Within moments, the pack crested a clearing, and the wolf gave a short bark, announcing their presence. Wherever they were, Ella was sure she didn’t want to see, because now there were sounds and the smoke smelled strong, so strong it reminded her of the burning wagons. She squeezed her eyes shut, and tried to burrow deeper into the fur,

“Give me a boat that can hold two,

“And both shall row, my friend and I…”

With something that felt like a shrug, Ella felt herself become dislodged, and slide down his glossy back as he sat on his haunches. Her eyes still squeezed as tight as she could get them, she sat where she landed on the cool earth. A warm tongue licked the tears that tracked down her cheeks, and a cold, wet nose bumped her chin until she finally opened her eyes.

The dark brown eyes stared into hers again. But this time it felt different. She couldn’t have broken his stare if she wanted to. Little currents zinged around on her skin, and her vision edged in white.

Finally, the gray wolf blinked, and everything felt normal again. He looked slightly over her shoulder then nuzzled her one last time, and stood. The rest of the pack circled her and bumped against her, and she felt as if they were all saying their good-byes.

She shut her eyes tight again, as she felt them turn to go, and heard the sounds of footsteps approaching behind her,

“As I look across the sea, a bright horizon beckons me,

“And I called to do my best and be the most that I can be…”

She covered her face with her hands as her voice broke, and she began to cry.

Part of her wondered why it sounded like the howl of a wolf.

Chapter Five
Brian

“So does anyone have a clue where we’re going?” Tommy asked.

“And what we’re going to do when we get there?” Michael stood next to his cousin, who looked like the mirror image of himself. It was like being asked two different questions by the same person at the same time.

“Well, it’s Sunday, so I’m doubting that she’s in the school library,” Ed’s angular face pinched in concentration, “But I have no idea where she actually lives, do you?” He looked over at Erik, who was still picking at the hole in his shirt.

“I’m not a big fan of fey, so, no. I don’t know where she goes to eat people or how we’re gonna kill her,” Erik grumbled as he discovered the hole had penetrated his shirt and burnt straight through, “Well, crap! These were my favorite jeans!”

I had known Wynter as Mrs. Graham ever since my kindergarten went on our first field trip to the reservation. Though her face was pinched with birdlike features, and a perpetual dour expression, the only power I felt she had was the ability to call your parents for misbehavior and send you to the principal’s office. Although it was a power she used deftly, and with great pleasure, it hardly seemed reason enough to kill her.

The whole mystical, fairy being who feasted on human flesh and wiped out entire races of humanity was a little hard to swallow, even though I had seen her in her true form in the wall of Nikki’s house, ready to bargain with an old woman for her life. After that particular thought, my allegiance to Mae Harmon won over that of the school librarian.

“I know where Mr. Graham lived years ago. It’s that little house across town near the railroad. She could be living there.”

“It’s a place to start. Let’s go!” Adam announced, and then gave me a rather direct look with his strange, gold eyes, “We’re not going to kill anybody…not yet.”

I thought he meant to be reassuring, but I still felt the weight of dread settle deep in my stomach like it was full of heavy rocks. Fifteen minutes later, we walked across the train tracks.

The small clapboard house sat in an old, dejected heap. The walls bowed in the middle as if they were searching for support for the rusty tin roof whose weight they no longer wanted to bear. Nearly all the windows were broken and the small porch sagged toward the ground. It was clear no one lived there. The house would surely fall to the ground at the first hint of a strong wind.

“Tommy, Michael, stay out here and keep a look out. The rest of you guys, come on,” Adam started toward the house with Nikki right behind him. A crow landed on a power line above our heads, watching us intently.

“He’s kidding, right?” I asked Erik, “That house is getting ready to fall in, there’s no way she’s in there!”

Erik grinned. “Adam’s not the joking type.” He jogged to catch up with Adam, who carefully navigated his way up the rotten steps.

“There’s magic here,” Adam warned in a low voice as we came up behind them. The porch did not, in fact, cave in. Instead, it made low sizzling sounds, like there were electric currents zinging all around it. “Magic always recognizes magic. This one senses our wolves. Either Wynter’s here, or she’s spelled this house against trespassers.”

“‘Tis both, actually…” Wynter answered, opening the door, to gaze out at the group of us huddled on her porch. Her dress was made of thousands of miniscule books. They moved as she spoke, their tiny brown and white pages fluttering. “I am here, and my home is indeed spelled. I have expected you to come, so the magic knows to let no harm befall you,” she looked deliberately at Nikki, then her huge, bottomless, blue eyes flickered over the rest of us, “although I had not anticipated the arrival of an entire village…”

“This ain’t all of us, lady,” Erik mumbled crossly under his breath a scowl etched in his round face. Wynter arched a neon-blue brow, and looked over our heads to Tommy and Michael who stood guard by the railroad tracks.

Adam gave Erik a warning look, and then turned back to the tall, blue-haired fairy who regarded him coolly, “We have questions we need to ask you.”

She nodded, and then stepped back in invitation for us to enter the dilapidated shack.

As soon as we walked through the weather-beaten door, the house transformed. Thick white rugs cushioned the gleaming wooden floors. Intricate wooden bookshelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling and the two sofas and a chair sat in the middle of the room. Various books floated in the air a few feet above our heads, hovering as if waiting for their master to call for them.

Wynter gestured toward the sofas in an invitation to sit as she leaned against the arm of the chair.

“What questions bring you here?” she turned her attention back to Nikki.

“My house has a strange wall in the attic. We saw you in it…and my great-grandmother,” Nikki said in a strained voice.

Wynter nodded as she chose her words carefully, “Your home is old and built from the trees of the forest. It has both magic and memories that it will show only to those who belong there. I came to ask the old woman for her help — for her to send for her great-granddaughter. I asked for
you.
”

“Why did you want Nikki to come here?” Adam stood up, planting himself firmly in front of the fairy.

She looked at him calmly and met his golden stare with her icy blue one, “I asked for her because one comes whom I cannot stop. Zue is stronger than I and
she
…” she pointed around him to Nikki, “…is the only one who can defeat her.”

Black mist ebbed around Adam as his wolf came to the surface to protect Nikki. Ed started a low whine. Erik grumbled something less than nice under his breath. Wynter’s dress started flipping out, pages rattling and rearranging as if it, too, was becoming unnerved.

I imagined blood soaking through the white carpet as wolves and fairy fought to the death. I knew that unless something happened soon to calm everyone down, someone was going to lose it — and possibly die.

“So who is this Zue and how do we stop her?” I asked as calmly as I could muster. Adam’s mist faded slightly, and Ed quit his whine as they waited for the answer.

Wynter turned her strange blue eyes on me, lips curled up in a smile that would have looked friendly on a normal person. The pointed teeth, though, made it look downright scary…

“She is Spriteblood,” she said, then whispered in a voice that sounded like raindrops pattering on a rooftop. “She was trapped long ago in a Deadland by your people. She is now free. I do not know how you will trap her, only that you must, or all will perish,” she rose and paced, stopping abruptly to stare out a front window at the crow perched on an electric line outside, “I cannot help you any further.”

“Why not!” Erik shouted the question, no longer able to contain his anger, “You’re the one who wanted Nikki here! You won’t even tell us how we’re supposed to kill her! You could at least help us instead of wanting Nikki to do all of your dirty work.”

Wynter turned and looked at him evenly.

I cannot help you kill her…” she turned her attention back to the crow, adding sadly, “…she is my sister.”

***

Zue

She watched them enter the house. She frowned as she felt the magic surrounding the shack, knowing its familiar touch was that of Wynter. She also felt the magic of the ones who had entered and knew that the wolf spirits within them were the same who had trapped her for all those years. Wynter had gone to them after they imprisoned her. She had spoken of peace and somehow managed to stay free. Zue snarled angrily at the memory of that injustice as she stared at the house, baring her pointed teeth.

Once she had been close to her sister, as they shared the strength of those they conquered. Somewhere along the way, though, Wynter had grown a conscience. Terrible things they were…consciences. Somehow Wynter had learned to love what should only ever have been prey. Living amongst the very ones she swore to kill, she knew Wynter’s magic had dimmed, and that getting her out of the way would not be a challenge. She grew weak among them, and Zue could tell from the magic the house held, that Wynter hadn’t fed off her human prey in a very, very long time.