like some great sea slug, belly down in
a kelp pile. Bones shattered and reformed. Skin spilt at the seams until at
last he crawled from the prison of his pelt. All indignities and agonies made
bearable by the promise of holding her.
Growing taller with each breath, Ronin scrambled to his
feet. Nothing equaled the sheer exhilaration and power of standing erect.
Ronin reached to the sky, and turning to face each of the
four sacred directions, he named the elements. “Earth, wind, fire, water, I bow
to your power. I am nothing on my own. Embrace the frailties and powers of this
human form. Lend me your strength as I do the Goddess’s will.”
The wind carried a wolf song from shore. Tipping his head
back, Ronin turned toward the moon, his voice rising to unite in song with his
shape-shifting cousins. None but a being who walked the earth as both human and
beast would recognize the subtle tonal differences and encrypted messages that
signified the human souls beneath those canid hides. The pack leader’s solo
answer welcomed Ronin ashore and promised no interference with his mission.
Satisfied, Ronin shook out his long hair and turned to face
the wind. Heavy locks whipped back from his face and fanned out across his shoulders.
A wave broke, colliding with the boulder he perched on. The resonant boom
vibrated in his bones, cold spray making him shiver.
Maybe it was the remnants of the storm spinning up
turbulence. Maybe it was the moodiness of autumn setting in, or maybe because
it had been longer than usual since he’d last tumbled in clean sheets with a
willing female, but tonight felt different.
Heat emanated from the water. Power dissipated by the
goings-on at Shadowling, the magickal manor perched on the cliffs. The priestesses
and their servants would be celebrating the Mabon, but the woman on the beach
was not of them. Her tears didn’t carry the telltale electric zap of power. If
she had power, it was dormant yet. Her summons had been born of innocent
despair.
As such she was tonight’s innocent recipient of his eternal
penance.
Shrugging off the mood, Ronin stashed his pelt under a cairn
of loose rocks and dove back into the water. He had eleven hours and fifty
minutes left. He wasn’t going to waste one second more than he had to. Still,
he had to proceed cautiously.
She’d summoned him without knowing he existed, or the
workings of his enchantment. Most women didn’t embrace strange men who walked
naked from the surf.
Pity, that.
* * * * *
She wasn’t crazy.She was asleep. Sitting on that
moonlit beach, the one she used to count on to bring her happy dreams, Maille
could think of no other explanation. When she opened her eyes again, pushed to
her feet, the nightmare refused to stay a dream. It got up with her and followed
her around.
Turning in a slow circle, she expected to see adobe walls.
Or to hear the desert sounds that might wake her—a coyote or screech owl. She
didn’t.
She mentally retraced her path back to reality, but like the
breadcrumb trail from a fairytale, there were too many bits missing to make
sense of it.
Above her a million stars winked. She could name all the
constellations, knew how to navigate by them. She knew this beach down to the
placement of every sand dune and patch of wild grass. Yet she had never been so
lost, lost beyond the ability of maps or stars or teachings from the ancients
to guide her.
She could interpret the wants and needs of animals so
accurately some swore she spoke to animals in a secret language. She was versed
in the healing properties of thousands of herbs. She could find the hidden
dwellings of all the creatures along this stretch of beach, which to the
untrained eye would seem deserted. Yet, no one had ever taught her how to find
reality once she’d lost it.
Reality was somewhere between Wolf Harbor, Maine, and
Albuquerque, New Mexico. Between where she was now and where she should be.
That was all she knew.
A shore-breaking wave slapped
a kelp pile. Bones shattered and reformed. Skin spilt at the seams until at
last he crawled from the prison of his pelt. All indignities and agonies made
bearable by the promise of holding her.
Growing taller with each breath, Ronin scrambled to his
feet. Nothing equaled the sheer exhilaration and power of standing erect.
Ronin reached to the sky, and turning to face each of the
four sacred directions, he named the elements. “Earth, wind, fire, water, I bow
to your power. I am nothing on my own. Embrace the frailties and powers of this
human form. Lend me your strength as I do the Goddess’s will.”
The wind carried a wolf song from shore. Tipping his head
back, Ronin turned toward the moon, his voice rising to unite in song with his
shape-shifting cousins. None but a being who walked the earth as both human and
beast would recognize the subtle tonal differences and encrypted messages that
signified the human souls beneath those canid hides. The pack leader’s solo
answer welcomed Ronin ashore and promised no interference with his mission.
Satisfied, Ronin shook out his long hair and turned to face
the wind. Heavy locks whipped back from his face and fanned out across his shoulders.
A wave broke, colliding with the boulder he perched on. The resonant boom
vibrated in his bones, cold spray making him shiver.
Maybe it was the remnants of the storm spinning up
turbulence. Maybe it was the moodiness of autumn setting in, or maybe because
it had been longer than usual since he’d last tumbled in clean sheets with a
willing female, but tonight felt different.
Heat emanated from the water. Power dissipated by the
goings-on at Shadowling, the magickal manor perched on the cliffs. The priestesses
and their servants would be celebrating the Mabon, but the woman on the beach
was not of them. Her tears didn’t carry the telltale electric zap of power. If
she had power, it was dormant yet. Her summons had been born of innocent
despair.
As such she was tonight’s innocent recipient of his eternal
penance.
Shrugging off the mood, Ronin stashed his pelt under a cairn
of loose rocks and dove back into the water. He had eleven hours and fifty
minutes left. He wasn’t going to waste one second more than he had to. Still,
he had to proceed cautiously.
She’d summoned him without knowing he existed, or the
workings of his enchantment. Most women didn’t embrace strange men who walked
naked from the surf.
Pity, that.
* * * * *
She wasn’t crazy.She was asleep. Sitting on that
moonlit beach, the one she used to count on to bring her happy dreams, Maille
could think of no other explanation. When she opened her eyes again, pushed to
her feet, the nightmare refused to stay a dream. It got up with her and followed
her around.
Turning in a slow circle, she expected to see adobe walls.
Or to hear the desert sounds that might wake her—a coyote or screech owl. She
didn’t.
She mentally retraced her path back to reality, but like the
breadcrumb trail from a fairytale, there were too many bits missing to make
sense of it.
Above her a million stars winked. She could name all the
constellations, knew how to navigate by them. She knew this beach down to the
placement of every sand dune and patch of wild grass. Yet she had never been so
lost, lost beyond the ability of maps or stars or teachings from the ancients
to guide her.
She could interpret the wants and needs of animals so
accurately some swore she spoke to animals in a secret language. She was versed
in the healing properties of thousands of herbs. She could find the hidden
dwellings of all the creatures along this stretch of beach, which to the
untrained eye would seem deserted. Yet, no one had ever taught her how to find
reality once she’d lost it.
Reality was somewhere between Wolf Harbor, Maine, and
Albuquerque, New Mexico. Between where she was now and where she should be.
That was all she knew.
A shore-breaking wave slapped
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