Othermoon (12 page)

Amaris flashed him a small smile. “Yeah. I could heal small cuts and bruises then,
but cancer . . .” She bit her lip, but kept going, as if grinding out the facts. “Later
on, I found out that my father refused to let her go to a humdrum hospital for treatment.
We’ve got our own doctors in the Tribunal, but they don’t have the latest chemotherapy
treatments and stuff. All our scientific research and money goes toward ‘the Cause’
instead.”

“The cause of getting rid of the otherkin,” said London.

“Exactly.” Amaris began expertly threading locks of London’s hair into a smooth braid.
“And my mother wasn’t important enough. She was just a woman, just a mother. My father
wouldn’t break the rules against consulting outsiders to help her. It might not have
saved her anyway. I don’t know.”

“But he should’ve tried!” November hovered near Siku, her skinny eyebrows frowning
thunderously.

“Why? She’d popped out a couple of kids just like he wanted, and God was now taking
her to heaven.” Amaris’s eyes were bright as she shook her head. “I think that’s when
I really started to hate him.”

“I hate my parents sometimes,” said London.

“Yeah. My dad hates anyone who’s not a bird-shifter,” said Arnaldo. “That’s just as
messed up.”

“My mom told me that I better marry a nice alpha wolf-shifter soon and start having
pups like a good little girl, or she and my dad might throw me out,” said London.
“She doesn’t believe me when I tell her I’d rather kill myself.”

“That’s what I was going to do, after my father forced me to marry Enoch,” Amaris
said, her voice soft. “If you guys hadn’t come along . . .”

London didn’t turn her head as Amaris kept on weaving the braid through her hair,
but her eyes moved back and forth; she was obviously thinking. “Do sworn enemies always
have this much in common?” she asked.

Amaris gave a small laugh, and London’s lips curved up in a half-smile.

November was giving the two of them a considering look, her lips pursed. She saw me
notice and waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Raynard stuck his grizzled head in around eleven o’clock and ordered the boys out.
I hung onto Caleb till the last second, unsure of how I was going to sleep through
the night before the Council meeting without him. He gave me a sweet kiss and pulled
away reluctantly.

So I let go of my fantasies of picking up where we’d left off last night and fell
onto my bed, punching my pillow into shape. Things were good between us. But we weren’t
back to where we’d been before Lazar had interrupted us last night. Maybe it was unrealistic
to expect to hop right back there in less than a day, but the memory of Caleb’s bare
skin rubbing up against mine kept intruding on every thought. I wanted nothing more
than to feel him that close to me again.

As Siku clomped down the hall without saying anything to November, she slammed the
door, frowning.

“Okay, I admit it. I need some advice,” she said. “And not about silly life-threatening
crap. About something more important. Boys.”

“Maybe one boy in particular?” London turned from admiring her braid in the mirror
with a grin.

“You think?” November stomped over to her bed and flopped down. “Could I be any more
obvious with Siku? I’m practically stripping his clothes off in public, and he just
smiles and pats me on the head.”

“So you’re not together?” Amaris got up and grabbed a bottle of water from the mini-fridge.
“I wasn’t sure.”

“Only if by together you mean I use him like a jungle gym and he laughs and tells
me to get down.” November expelled her breath in a growling sigh.

“I’ve been wondering what was going on,” I said. “Have you told him you’re interested?”

“No!” November flipped over on her back to stare angrily at the ceiling. “He treats
me like it’s all a big joke. What do you guys think? Should I maybe flash him a boob
or something?”

Amaris choked on her water, laughing and coughing as she turned red.

London pounded her twice on the back. “Don’t worry. She has that effect on everyone
at first.”

“I don’t think he needs more boob,” I said.

November nodded. “I do ooze sex appeal.”

“With everyone,” I said.

“So?” November shrugged.

“And that’s
all
you do,” London countered.

November rolled over to stare at London. “What else is there?”

“There’s, you know, you,” said Amaris.

“Me?” November looked genuinely puzzled.

“The crap underneath the boobs, dummy,” said London. “Hopes, dreams. And I don’t mean
your dream that heaven is made of lollipops.”

“Before Caleb, I would push boys away because of the back brace,” I said, thinking
it through. “But then I ended up in a cage next to Caleb wearing a hospital gown,
and I got all angry and mauled Lazar. It was super embarrassing. I mean, I never wanted
anyone to see me like that, but Caleb was really cool about it. And later, Caleb nearly
collapsed in front of me after he called something out of shadow. Then it was like
we’d both taken our masks off, you know? It was a good thing.”

“This is not a mask!” said November. “This is me!”

“But you’re a big flirt with everyone,” said London. “How’s he supposed to know that
you actually mean it with him unless you show him something you don’t show to others?”

“Believe me, others have seen
everything
,” November said.

“Did they ever see you scared?” Amaris asked. “Or, you know, vulnerable?”

I saw what Amaris was getting at now. “You have a million brothers, right?”

November snorted. “Damn straight. The whole house smells like a locker room.”

“I bet you had to be just as tough and smart-ass as they were, right?”

November considered this, eyebrows drawn, and gave a “maybe” nod.

“Siku’s not a smart-ass,” said London. “He’s more serious.”

“You think he doesn’t like me because I’m such a tease?” November’s voice got suddenly
plaintive. “Maybe he only likes stupid gloomy girls.”

London and Amaris were shaking their heads, and I agreed with them. I said, “Maybe
he thinks you’re just playing around. You might actually have to . . . you know, show
him what’s under the sex appeal.”

“Oh, crap!” November buried her face in the quilt on her bed, muffling her voice for
a second. “How the hell do I do that?” She lifted her head, lips turned down mournfully.
“With my last boyfriend I just wiggled my hips and he came running, you know?”

“Siku’s worth a little effort,” London said.

“And I think we found what scares you,” I said. “Being real with boys.”

In answer, she grabbed her pillow, buried her face in it, and kicked the mattress.

I stared at the ceiling, trying not to feel envy. She might be on the verge of something
very exciting. As I had been last night, with Caleb. More than anything I wanted to
be with him now, discovering more and more about each other, without anyone else around.
My whole body got hot just thinking about it. Would we ever get the chance? It was
going to be another very long night.

CHAPTER 10

“What time is it?” I blinked up at Raynard, who was standing in the doorway of our
room, rumpled, unshaven, and stern-faced. He’d switched on the lights for some reason.
I heard the other girls stirring in their beds, groaning.

“Four a.m.,” he said. “Morfael wants you, London, and November assembled outside the
front door in five minutes. Amaris can stay in bed.”

Then he was gone, thumping the door shut behind him.

“What the hell?” London pulled the covers over her head.

“For once, I agree with you,” November said.

Amaris sat up. “I’d go if he wanted me to. You know he always has a reason for the
crazy things he makes us do.”

“Torture is a reason,” said November. “Torture and old-man pain in the ass-itude.”

Somehow we stumbled out into the still, snowy night. The deep early morning chill
and something else, something darker and crazier, thrummed under my skin.

I looked around for Caleb, who hung back as the other boys emerged, stuffing their
hands deep into their pockets and stamping their feet. I padded up to him. “So you
and Amaris don’t have to participate in this . . . whatever?”

“Looks like shifters only,” he said, and kissed me on the nose. “But I had to come
up anyway to see you and say good luck with whatever.”

I gave him a quick kiss back. “Thanks.”

Morfael emerged from behind a tree, tapping his staff into the small drifts of snow,
clad as always in dusty black, so I trotted to stand with the others. Out beyond the
woods something waited. I could feel it like a steady pressure against my body.

“Raynard has set up a course for you to follow using some twine,” he said, putting
his hand onto a rough bit of string wound around the tree trunk next to him. It stretched
from that bristlecone pine about a dozen feet to wind around another tree, then went
off into the dark. “One of you will be the leader, while the others will wear these.”
In his other hand he pulled out strips of black cloth.

A collective moan rose from the group. We’d done blindfolded exercises last term at
school with Morfael. They never turned out the way we expected.

“The leader will help the others negotiate the entire length of the course, no matter
what obstacles lie in the way,” Morfael continued. “I expect you to complete it and
be back here in less than an hour.”

“Is there some reason this couldn’t happen in daylight?” November mumbled under her
breath.

“November will be your leader,” said Morfael, fixing her with his multifaceted eyes.

November froze. “I didn’t mean . . .”

“It will be up to you decide whether or not shifting will help you complete your task,”
Morfael continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “The moon is nearly full and rising. Already
the veil between the worlds here is thin, so be warned. I will see you back here within
the hour.”

Raynard made darned sure our blindfolds were on tight, with no way for the moonlight
to creep in. The darkness fell over me like a weight. A faint breeze rustled the trees
above us, and I caught a faint scent of pine that was familiar, yet not. I waved in
the direction I thought Caleb was standing and heard him laugh.

November tentatively guided us to line up, Siku in front, then London, Arnaldo, and
me. “What the hell is he thinking, putting me in charge?” she muttered to us as she
placed our hands on each other’s shoulders. “I mean, don’t blame me if I mess it up
horribly. I didn’t ask for this.” Her voice moved up to the head of our little line.
“Here, Siks, put your left hand on my left shoulder like this, right hand on the twine.
Everyone else all set to do the same? Okay. Forward, march.”

We shuffled forward slowly. I trod on the Arnaldo’s heel, tripping slightly. “Sorry,”
I whispered.

“ ’S okay,” he said.

“Ow!” Siku grunted in pain. “There’s a rock here!”

“Yeah, oh, sorry,” November said. “I just stepped over it and didn’t tell you about
it, didn’t I? See? I’m so not right for this. Okay, everyone go slowly past where
Siku is. There’s a rock sticking up about three inches. Yeah, London, lift your foot
a little higher. Now step. Okay, good.”

We made our way over the rock, and past the second tree as the sounds and smells of
the forest at night enveloped us. Branches grabbed at my hair as we continued winding
between trees and stumbling over roots. November scrambled up and down the line of
us, trying to make sure we didn’t stub our toes too horribly or smack our faces into
low-hanging branches.

I could feel when the moon rose. Its rays were the cool equivalent of warm sunshine,
only they didn’t calm me down. In fact, my skin crawled, jittering with something.
A need. A need to shift.

“We’re going so slow,” Arnaldo said right in front of me. “I wish we could just shift
and follow the twine in animal form.”

“An eagle wearing a blindfold, hopping along with string in your beak?” I said. “Not
exactly practical.”

“I know, I know,” he said.

“He just wants to shift,” London said. “I want to shift. God, I can smell the deer
over to our left, and I just want to shift and hunt. . . .”

“That’s because the veil is so thin here,” I said.

November piped up from ahead, “And the moon coming out only makes that worse.”

“How much you want to bet Morfael planned this at moonrise for exactly that reason?”
said Siku.

“It’s part of the test.” I shook my head, and then realized no one but November could
see me.

“That pointy-headed bastard,” London said.

“So, we focus.” Unexpectedly, it was November saying that. “Feel the twine with your
human hand, focus on moving your human feet where I tell you to put them with my lovely
human voice.”

We hung on to her chattering as we made our way through a narrow gap between two rocks
higher than my head. November crowed with victory. A night bird called out an answer,
but November’s voice choked off a second later.

“Oh, crap!” Her footsteps pattered away from those of us who were blindfolded. “Maybe
it goes around or over. . . . No, there’s no way over. Damn!”

“What the hell is going on?” London shouted.

Siku grunted. “Just tell us.”

November’s soft-soled shoes on the soil moved closer. “The twine leads us through
this ... hole in the rocks. A bunch of them collapsed, but they left a kind of tunnel.
It opens up after a few feet. But it’s too small for me to get through, let alone
Siku.”

“Could you get through in rat form?” asked Arnaldo. “Morfael said we could decide
whether to shift or not.”

“Sure,” she said. “It would be easy for me, but none of the rest of you could make
it. I mean, Dez and Siku are bigger in their animal forms, and even your eagle and
London’s wolf would be way too big.”

“Then how the hell are we supposed to follow the stupid twine the way Morfael told
us?” London asked. “This is just dumb.”

“Maybe we should just take the blindfolds off and go back,” Arnaldo said, his voice
hesitant.

“Morfael would know we cheated,” Siku said. “You know he would.”

A crazy idea was running through my head. “I could get through if I shifted into a
cat,” I said, trying to keep my voice light, almost as if it was a joke. When I’d
accidentally shifted into a cat last term, it had freaked out the other shifter kids
so much they didn’t want to be my friend for awhile. As far as they knew, shifters
only had one animal form. I thought we’d mostly gotten past the weirdness brought
on by that episode, but the subject might still be a little sore for them.

A little silence fell. Then London said, her voice emanating resentment, “Well, that
would be okay for you. You and November could get through the tunnel. But what about
the rest of us?”

“Maybe once they get to the other side, they’ll see something over there that will
help us,” Arnaldo said.

“Morfael does tend to give us problems we can’t solve with the usual tools,” I said.
“What if I’m not the only one who can change into different animal forms?”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” November’s voice got closer. I could
smell the gummi bears she had in her pocket.

“That’s ridiculous!” London’s voice rose with a rush. Even though she resented her
parents’ restrictions more than anyone, she had the hardest time dealing with anything
that violated the rules she’d grown up with. “No offense, but Dez is a freak! I’m
a wolf-shifter, and I’m always going to be a wolf-shifter!”

“No,” came Siku’s rumbly voice. “You’re always going to be London. Human, wolf, whatever.”

My heart jumped at Siku’s words. He’d figured out the heart of it. “He’s right. When
I turned into a cat, I felt and thought the same as I did when I was a tiger, or a
human. I was still me—whoever that is. The shape didn’t matter.”

“Yeah, but I’m an eagle-shifter,” Arnaldo said. “That’s all I’ve ever been, and I
like it. I don’t want to be . . . I don’t know—something smaller like a sparrow hawk
or even a sparrow. I mean, I could eat those birds for breakfast if I wanted.”

“Don’t want to be prey, you mean,” said November. “Don’t want to be like the rats
and know how it is to be small and have bigger things threaten to eat you all the
time. That might be scary.”

“I’m not scared!” Arnaldo said, stung.

“I know it’s different; it’s uncomfortable; it’s weird,” I said. “But you only have
to do it for a minute, right, November?”

“It’s not far,” she said. “But sounds to me like Wolfie and Bird-boy don’t have the
nerve to even try. Go home with your tail and feathers between your legs. Get a new-moon
grade and have to come back to school for another term and be a failure. It’s no rind
off my cheese.”

“I didn’t say I was giving up on the task!” Arnaldo’s sharp voice got even sharper.

“I could try,” Siku’s voice was quieter, more uncertain than usual. “But the smallest
ursines are sun bears and they’re still five feet long and about a hundred and fifty
pounds. Could I get through it in a form like that, ’Ember?”

“Mmm, probably not, Siks,” she said. “If it were big enough for that, I could just
get through in human form, or London could in her wolf form. Sorry.”

“Some scientists think bears are actually related to raccoons,” I said. “What if you’re
not limited to actual bears?”

“A raccoon?” Siku sounded skeptical. “They’re . . . small.”

“Again with the anti-small prejudice!” November stomped closer to Siku. “Here, walk
over here, big bear jerk, and feel the entrance to the tunnel. . . .”

I heard Siku’s larger tread shuffle after November’s. “I don’t know, ’Ember,” he was
saying.

“Here!” November slapped her hands against rock. “Feel that. And see, here’s the twine
going through it. That’s the tunnel you have to get through. Now do you want to get
a full moon on this test or not? Hey, Morfael didn’t say you could take off the blindfold.
. . .”

Cloth slid over hair as Siku said, “It’ll come off anyway when I shift into a raccoon.”

I pulled off my own blindfold in time to see November smiling up at Siku in delighted
surprise. They stood in front of a wall of rock that extended for dozens of yards
in either direction. The twine still in my right hand did indeed disappear into a
hole in the rock about a foot in diameter. I looked around. We were deep into the
forest, in an area I didn’t recognize.

“You’re going to try it?” November asked Siku, her voice ripe with excitement.

“You showed me small is pretty cool,” he said. “And I’ve always liked those black
mask markings on raccoons.”

“Like furry bandits!” November clapped her hands. Then she turned on London and Arnaldo,
who were slowly slipping off their own blindfolds. “See? Siku’s not afraid to be different.”

“We’ll see if he can do anything at all.” Arnaldo’s voice was politely skeptical.
London snorted. “He’s never done it before. No offense, Sik.”

“I can do it,” Siku said. “We read about raccoons last term in class. They eat lots
of different things, the same as bears. And they fish in streams and ponds, like bears.
They just catch smaller fish. If I was catching fish with smaller paws . . .” He closed
his eyes, wiggling his big fingers.

For a long moment he stood there, nose out, as if sniffing the air for his catch of
fish. Then he was gone. I blinked.
Where . . . ?

Then I looked down. Standing at November’s feet was a dark gray raccoon with roguish
black stripes over its glittering eyes, standing only two feet tall on its hind legs.

“Holy crap!” London drew back.

The raccoon dropped to all fours and made a chittering sound of triumph.

“It’s still Siku,” I said, walking over to put my arm around London’s shoulders.

She leaned into me, burying her eyes against my neck. “I’m sorry. I know. I don’t
know why this freaks me out so much.”

“What’s freaky is how cute he is,” November said, hunkering down to look the raccoon
more in the eye. “Good job, Siku. You’re a hottie in every form.”

The raccoon chirped, then turned, made a very human beckoning motion to us, and hopped
up into the hole in the rock.

“You’d be cute too,” I said, pulling away from London to catch her eye. “Maybe as
a little arctic fox or something?”

“How about a Chihuahua?” November smirked.

London’s icy blue eyes glared at her. “A fox could catch and eat a rat,” she said,
then turned to me. “But what if I can’t come back? I don’t want to be a fox. I’m a
wolf.”

“It’s like Siku said—you’re London,” I said. “You’re our friend, no matter what. As
long as you can find your way back to yourself, you’ll be fine.”

She swallowed, and took my hands in hers. Her eyes held mine with equal firmness.
“Okay. But the smallest fox is the fennec, so maybe I should go for that, just to
be sure I can get through.”