Sun & Moon

Chapter 21 - Bianca

As I hike up the mountain road, the snowfall begins to intensify, but my boots are doing their job of gripping me to the ground.

My new friend, Ganzorig, had insisted that we would reach the sanctuary faster if we shifted, but I couldn't leave my passport, documents and money behind. Who knows when I'd need to go on the run again or if what Ganzorig said about the vampires is true. We stopped talking a couple of miles back when he told me to conserve my energy for the climb so I can't even ask and think this decision to follow him through.

All I know is what I saw last night.

There was something about the last vampire who spoke those ominous words. Despite being shred to pieces, I had the eerie feeling that something was possessing his body and that wasn't the last I'd see of him, it, the thing.

I should have questioned Ganzorig about it but exhaustion and fatigue got the best of me. At that point, I'd been up for almost 24 hours and I nearly collapsed on the way back to the hotel where poor Sangay looked like he was slipping away. I gave his family half of what money I had left, leaving me with a quarter of the funds I started my journey with, in the hope of making up for any anticipated grief. But, to be honest, I didn't know if it was enough.

I wasn't used to facing such rabid vampires. In Silver Bow, there were only the occasional deaths from overenthusiastic feeding. Otherwise, all supernatural folks knew very well of the repercussions of toying with life and death as my pack was there to uphold the law, so to speak. Who upholds that supernatural law out here? A lone tiger?

I was too guilt-stricken to stay at the hotel, so I followed Ganzorig back to his place, a small one-bedroom apartment built under a restaurant. And when dawn broke, we made our way out for this treacherous hike up a snow-covered mountainside.

We reach a set of stairs that wind around the mountain with seemingly no end in sight. Ganzorig says it's about a thousand steps so I should keep a steady breathing pattern if I don't want to get winded easily. I've trained all my life in Silver Bow, but nothing could prepare me for this altitude change.

Halfway through, nausea sets in and the tea and biscuits I had for breakfast knock against my oesophagus. But then I look up, and see the end of the thousand steps flatten off. When we reach the top, I commend myself for not throwing up, but feel a little let down by the destination, though the view from up here is magnificent.

It seems Ganzorig has taken me up a perilous snowy trek to a tourist viewing spot. The end of it curves out enough that when I look directly down, I get slight acrophobia despite the cold haze below covering the true height of the drop.

What are we doing here?

Ganzorig faces the mountainside, looking upwards. I follow his gaze and find nothing but a white mountain face, whose peak is covered by fog. He whistles an intricate tune, and nothing happens for a while. Until, a melodious reply slices through the silence from somewhere up there and a subtle vibration emanates from under my feet. Ganzorig steps back when the mountain seems to open, shaking out the snow as it does. Two double doors open to reveal a path inward. As I step forward, I look up and faintly see two figures moving above the open doors.

The path inside leads to a small town or village of some sort, with the gentle snowfall covering the various buildings stretched out in its open space. High up above is hazey fog, though the thick mountain rock encircles the village all around. This is literally a village within a mountain.

"Ganzorig, what is this place?" I break the silence.

"We call this Sanctuary," he replies. "A place for people like me."

"Tigers?"

"Yes."

I'm not surprised by this. After all, wolves dominate where I come from. It would only make sense that tigers have their own place on this side of the world.

"How many of you are there?"

"There are a few families here, but most of us have been abandoned by our blood relatives."

"Why's that?"

"The difference between my kind and your kind is the pack system of law and order. We don't possess that. Most of us are half-breeds disowned by our human families. Some of us possess the rare tiger genetics that has skipped over many generations, hidden under human DNA."

The way Ganzorig breathes after that line makes me wonder if he is a part of that rare breed of tigers, which might explain the scar on his face and those on his body, but that's a question for another time.

I wonder about the chances of finding a blood relative of Astrid here.

"Are you all from this country?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "That is why Sanctuary exists out here, hidden between mountains, for all tigers who seek shelter."

"So, why exactly have you brought me here?"

"To let the elders know about our encounter last night," Ganzorig quickens his pace.

I follow a step behind him as he leads me through Sanctuary. Only a few citizens are out in the streets and those few stare at us, particularly me. Do they all know who I am or are they just struck by the random blonde woman walking through their home?

A gazebo stands in the middle of the village with the head of a golden tiger hanging right above it and a set of stairs that lead deeper into the mountain. Inside, lamps light the way until we reach a sort of grand hall underneath and a carved-out platform at the far end of the hall, where a meeting seems to be taking place. An old man with deep russet skin stands, addressing the group and reading off of a notebook. When he spots us, he calls Ganzorig's name. The rest of the group looks back at us.

"Ganzorig, why are you here?" He looks at me. "Who is this?"

"Guru," Ganzorig replies, "This is Bianca Greywood, a werewolf."

The group stirs in low, heated murmurs.

"A wolf?" Guru exclaims. "Have you forgotten that you are not allowed to reveal yourself to one? You've put us all in danger of being exposed."

Ganzorig turns his head down in shame, but I step forward.

I scramble for an excuse so as not to get Ganzorig in trouble. "I—I'm a Sigma. A wolf without a pack."

As soon as I say the title, I feel a new confidence surge up in me.

Yes, I like the sound of that. A Sigma.

Guru scowls his brows deeply at me. "This is not a sanctuary for wolves." He flickers his eyes at Ganzorig. "Young man, your duty is to protect the town below, not bring in strays."

"I'm not a stray!"

"She's not a stray!"

We look at each other as we both make it clear that I am not looking for anybody's sympathy or shelter in the snow. I had that in the town below...before the vampire attack.

"She's not a stray," Ganzorig repeats and takes a breath. "Last night, the town was attacked by a horde. More than a dozen. They got to a group of boys in the town square and I was fulfilling my duties. Then, a white wolf appeared." He looks at me. "That was Bianca."

"Impossible," Guru utters, while the rest of the elders echo his sentiments. "But she could be any ordinary white wolf."

"No, Guru," Ganzorig's tone emboldens as I feel the shock of the group's reactions slowly sink into my head. "She isn't ordinary because he appeared."

Guru gasps, holding onto his chair and clutching his chest.

"The God of Death."