Wolf-Shifter

Dancing among the Stars 50

Sheila sat with the other members of Sheeva Intre while Rakab went to Nyesh. "Look at me, all of you!" Sheila's tone was harsh and everyone snapped to attention as she continued in a softer tone. "Ralon is dead and yet we still have one problem on our hands: Nyesh's inability to walk."

A cold silence settled over the group. Nyesh was one of their own just as much as his father was and to not be able to help him made them feel helpless. Alida spoke up, "Why don't we make him something?"

Elita grinned, "A gift."

Ginger laughed quietly, "A gift that will help him get around."

"Easily." Cut in Bialas.

Sheila smiled, "Any idea will help."

Senka placed a hand over the emerald boa's "A staff perhaps?"

Yrel quickly pulled out a piece of parchment, and charcoal. "About five feet, nine inches tall, made of wood and reinforced with…melted gold or silver…" He made notes as he thought, quickly jotting down what they would need.

Ginger took the paper from under his hand and looked it over, nodding to the crow. "Seems we've got our work cut out for us," She passed the paper around as Yrel explained.

Alida grinned widely. "Rakab's in for a surprise!"

Elita pat her sister's arm, "Don't forget Nyesh, silly."

Alida rolled her eyes, "I didn't."

"Now when do you suppose we can have this done." Bialas asked, turning to Senka who sighed deeply. "Depends."

The rest of the group nodded solemnly.

Rakab watched as his son came in and out of consciousness, out of nightmares as he slept, the medicines the nurses gave him were helping a bit, but not much and Rak was worried. Slowly, he looked at Nyesh's left hand. The hand was tight as muscles convulsed and his fingers clenched and unclenched. Rak gripped his son's hand and closed his eyes. "For once I'd like a healing magic, one that'll help him!" he thought. So this was what it was like to watch your own child suffer? Pure hell?

"More then hell…" he thought, silently praying to Helaku and Ylva for Nyesh's sake. He felt a cool, reassuring hand on one shoulder and a warm, strong hand on the other.

"We are here at your request." Came a booming voice in Rak's mind. He knew that voice. Helaku.

"You suffer so, Rakab…" Ylva crooned, "but I'm afraid we cannot change what Fate has done."

"You say you are gods, keepers of the wolves, and guardian of those needing help…" Rak was close to tears now, for he had not expected the gods to say no when his son, his son, was suffering. "And yet, when we need your help, you refuse!?"

"Silence, son of Otsoko!" "You weep for what is your flesh and blood yet you hold no honor for those already in death?"

Rakab bowed his head, unable to meet the golden-blue gaze of the sun god of wolves. "I choose to mourn when I will have the time."

Rakab felt a cold tear fall to land on his hands. Surprised, Rak looked up into Ylva's eyes. "We gods do weep, Rakab. There is human in us after all." Ylva replied, giving him a shaky smile as she placed a warm hand in Nyesh's left one, subduing the tremors.

Helaku took Nyesh's right hand and Rakab backed off, just watching…

He was in another nightmare, another fragmentation of hell. He was running, running down a black tunnel that seemed to echo with his footsteps. A scream lodged in his throat and choked him as he collapsed in a dark pool of icy water. Panic raced in his blood and he struggled as his lungs were filled with the blackness, his limbs flailed and suddenly he felt a forceful grip on his arms pulling him out of a watery grave…

Gasping, he found himself staring into deep pools of amber. Marra of the Pantheran tribe smiled tenderly and stroked his cheek, "Nyesh." She whispered, "Oh, you look so much like your father…"

He recognized the woman's eyes and the voice. The memory was a hazy one but he remembered. "Mother?" he murmured.

"Your father's waiting, Nyesh." Marra replied, tears in her eyes. "Go to him…"

"But—" Nyesh was suddenly cut off.

"Go my son..." the she-panther then faded into a breeze and Nyesh reached out to her fading form…

Opening his eyes, Nyesh gripped onto his father's hand. Rakab looked at his son in surprise and suddenly a soft voice whispered around the room: "You will be able to use that hand again, but you will limp all your days…"

"Bless the gods." Rak thought, grinning. "At least you'll be able to walk."

The next morning, Nyesh woke to the members of Sheeva Intre and presented with a wooden staff, reinforced with gold with the words: "Irmalo'of'Sheeva- Intre. Brokan-la'pt- mana, brokan'la'pt-lalintoth." engraved in the gold.

"Brother of Cold Silence. Forever our leader, forever our friend."

Nyesh could only smile; they had proclaimed him a leader as well as thier friend. His father's heir to the position of Mana to Sheeva Intre…

He needed to find Rose. To ask her a question, a vow, he had longed to seal a long time ago: Would she marry him? Make him her mate?