Shadows of Ourselves (2016 Original Edition)

TWENTY-ONE: Wolves

"So what?" I asked Hunter's back as we climbed the stairway back to our world. "Are you just planning to fight a pack of Werewolves?"

"Gosh golly gee, how did you know?"

Brilliant.

I kept on his trail, following him up into the light. When we stepped out of the doorway, we were not on the island anymore. Startled, I looked around, expecting things to become familiar at any second, but it didn't happen.

We'd come out in the woods, but here the trees were thinner, younger, and spaced farther apart—more like a man-made reconstruction of a forest than an actual one. It was surprisingly Home Depot garden section, compared to the Faerie Realm. Overhead the sky had turned a pale grey, a washed out hue that hinted at rain later in the day, but for now the air was dry; it was the ground that was wet. As soon as we stepped out of the doorway, my feet were soaked.

"Disgusting," I remarked at the ground.

It was loose and muddy, water gushing up through the loose soil to soak our feet wherever we stepped. Each step made a disgusting squelching sound.

Hunter looked annoyed. "Of course it couldn't let us out anywhere else. Fucking portals."

"Where are we, anyway?" I asked, looking around.

Through the trees, off in the distance, I could see a thin gravel road, a driveway, and on the other side of it, a massive house with beige plastic siding that looked pretty much brand new. Somewhere nearby I could hear the gurgling of a stream—the source of the ground water, maybe? The air smelled like dirt, sap, and dead leaves.

"The pack house, I think." He caught my expression and explained, "Werewolves don't run in traditional packs—like I said at the restaurant, they're more human than canine—but they do like to stick together. If several families are in one place it's easier to manage themselves, easier to keep their secrets."

"And, I'm guessing, easier to afford a huge piece of land to run around on as a big furry humanoid without being spotted." I looked around at the land in a new light, half expecting a hairy monster to burst from the trees.

"Exactly. Let's go find the sword."

"Wait!" I grabbed his arm. "Can we talk for a second?"

His eyes closed off again. "Later."

"No! Now!"

"Of course, Princess."

I stopped walking and crossed my arms. Overhead the wind ruffled the blessedly ordinary tree branches, causing them to sway and creak dangerously. The sound of the wild, but a human wild, one that built a world I recognized.

"I'm serious," I said. "We need to talk."

He sighed, and then, in the voice an adult would use to humour an annoying child, said, "Fine, Sky, what do you want to talk about?"

"The dentures you're going to need after I knock out your teeth, if you ever take that tone with me again," I snapped, and then, "You're mad at me."

"You just threatened to knock my teeth out," he put in. "Yes, I'm mad at you. You could have gotten yourself killed back there. You have no idea how bad that could have been, how quickly things could have turned on us. You're just lucky she found your insolence charming, or her riders would be hunting you through the forest like an animal right now."

"You would have saved me."

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I would have tried," he said, "and then we would both be dead."