Page 10

Chapter Ten

AUTUMN

T he sounds of scratching awaken me. I’m still propped up on the large rock with my shirt balled up as a pillow. My feet feel funny. When I look down, a sticky paste covers my blisters. Wiggling my toes, my raw skin feels ridiculously better. The fire is dying and goosebumps prickle along my bare legs. The fleeting dusk light filtering in through the cave mouth casts long shadows on the wall beside me. Through them, I spy Renall, his back hunched over and his arms moving intensely. His concentration must be high because I climb to my feet without grabbing his attention.

“You’re up early.” I yawn, slipping back into my clothes.

He spins around at the sound of my voice, motioning me over to his side with his hand. I wince in preparation as I put weight on my feet, but amazingly my blisters are only a mild annoyance. Over his shoulder, I spy what looks like the skin of the rabbit, only it’s inside out.

He holds it up for me to view. Renall has sown the rabbit skins over the soles of my former shoes. He made me a pair of shoes. Carefully, he holds one open for me to slip into. Leaning on his shoulders for support, I slip my foot into the right shoe. The rabbit fur is so soft to the touch, my foot feels like it’s walking on a cloud.

“Oh my, these are the softest shoes I’ve ever owned.”

He grins a proud smile. Although I don’t think he understands a word I’ve just said, he still holds out the next shoe and helps me inside it.

I’m still wiggling my toes in my new rabbit slippers after I dressed when Renall hands me a cold, charred stick of meat. I barely have a chance to finish it before he stomps out the remaining embers of the fire and casts us into darkness. His footsteps start to recede away from me toward the mouth of the cave before I stumble after him.

I guess it’s time to continue our journey.

* * *

The edge of a lake stretches out before us as far as the eye can see, ending in mountains across the far side. It’s a windless day, causing the water to be so still, it looks like glass. Renall wanders over to the water’s edge first, he tastes the water before motioning me over with a jerk of his head. He wades farther into the water, causing the only disruption in the entire lake. I kick my shoes and pants off and begin washing my face and sweaty places. I must be making too much noise because Renall grunts and slips seamlessly deeper into the lake. He dives in. The water stills around him. Not a bubble or ripple to be seen. A moment of serene silence falls over the lake. When he breaks through the surface, there’s a large bass between his teeth.

His hair is wet and plastered to his face, the fish hanging limp from his fanged teeth. His face, his eyes, and the edges of his mouth are tipped upward, luminous with pride. It reminds me of Colton on his first fishing expedition. He attempted to reel in the biggest fish and ultimately fell overboard. When he shot back up from the water, he held the fish in his hand. We cooked it on a fire out behind the house. Colton had a proud smile on his face then too. That was right after Mother passed. It was also the first time he felt like he could provide for me. I’ll never forget it. Renall’s smile fades. I wonder if he can sense the turn my thoughts have taken.

Renall makes a tiny fire in the noon sun and cooks the fish quickly before putting the flame back out again and tossing water over the fire. Without another word, he’s jogging into the tree line. I open my mouth to ask where we are going, I’d also like to know how much longer we’ll be running. Truth is, it doesn’t matter. The longer I’m running away, the less time I have to stop and feel something.

* * *

Sweat drips down my forehead as I continue after Renall in the afternoon sun. We’ve been at this pace since the lake, and I’m running on fumes. Renall is swift as a jungle cat, leaping over fallen trees and navigating the dense forest. Me, on the other hand, I’ve walked into every spider web possible. My rabbit shoes are comfortable, but they also get hooked onto rocks and roots more easily. I’ve tripped a dozen times and I’m sweating and panting loud enough for the largest, and possibly blindest, predator to find me. Exhaustion has officially kicked in when I stumble onto a tree for support.

“Renall,” I cough, gasping for air. “I can’t go any farther.” I lean my forehead onto my arm to catch my breath. “I’m not built for this. I can’t keep this up …”

Leaves crunch as he approaches and he sniffs me. “Rrokay?”

“No, not okay.” I lift my spare arm and give him a thumbs down. “I’ve lost anyone I’ve ever loved, I left all my worldly possessions besides what fit in my backpack behind, I’m being chased away from the only home I’ve ever known, and I have no idea where I’m going or what we are going to do there. You don’t even speak English, and I just followed you into the woods. You could murder me. Or … worse.”

I look up to meet his eyes. He listens intently, quietly.

“I think I might be losing my mind … granted, people are trying to murder me, but why am I following you?” I drop my hand from the tree and step toward him, “Why do I trust you in here?” I point to my chest.

He watches me with the same intensity he put into making the shoes before pointing to the tree behind me. “Rawe-tum. Grrr-an.”

I follow his finger, turning back to the tree trunk. Where my hand was just sitting has now blossomed with ivy. It’s tendrils swirling and growing up the length of the tree.

“What is that?”

He nods with a smile.

“I did that?” I gasp, “I made that ivy grow?”

“Rawe-tum. Grrarrran. Grrrd-iann.”

“Grr? Grrd-an? Garden?”

He shakes his head and tries again, “Grr-dah-eee-an.”

“Gah, G-Guard-ian? Guardian. I’m a Guardian?” I piece it together. “Autumn is Guardian. That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it?” Guardian. Where have I heard that before? Mother. Mother had mentioned I would be Colton’s Guardian growing up. After she passed, I always thought it was some sick joke that she had predicted me becoming his legal guardian.

Renall gives me a thumbs-up.

“What is a Guardian?”

He snorts before reaching out and touching the vine of ivy. He plucks a leaf off and rolls it between two fingers. Almost immediately, his fingers redden and blister.

“Oh no, poison? Did I make poison ivy? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to …”

His lip quirks up into a sly smirk. “Rawe-tum, tsk, tsk, tsk.” His voice has a twinge of amusement. His fingers calm almost immediately and the redness fades in an instant.

“I had no idea …” I pause at his smile. “Wait? You’re not mad?” As I say the words I realize he’s teasing me.

Renall stands there studying the rest of the ivy, a look of wonder across his face, and I get the feeling he wasn’t expecting this, not from me.

“What the hell did I just do? How did I create that? And why is a so-called ‘Guardian’ making things that don’t protect, but cause harm?”

“Rawe-tum, rokay?” He returns his attention to me, giving me the thumbs up in question.

“I mean no, I’m not okay right now. I have a lot of questions, but you have no idea what I’m saying. So …” I sigh defeatedly, “Sure, I’m okay.” I return his thumbs up. He grabs it and kisses my hand before shaking his head and turning around to dart off again. With one final inspection of the poison ivy crawling up the tree, and then a glance at my hand which looks as it always has, I follow him to who knows where.

* * *

By nightfall, I have way more questions about what I did to the tree and why Renall thought it was the best thing since indoor plumbing. He didn’t set any traps or grab any nice rabbits before sitting down and making camp tonight. The wind has picked up, and he’s been sullen for an hour or so. Not like it’s much different from his regular personality, but still.

Unlike last night, he doesn’t build a fire. He makes quick work of finding the mossy side of a tree and motioning for me to have a seat. Without another word, he positions himself against the tree across from me and surveys the horizon behind me.

Grabbing my empty stomach, I tuck my knees into my chest and try to get some rest. The night is colder than last, or maybe it’s just because we are out in the open and not in a cave with a nice warm fire. I’m starting to miss my nice comforter Colton got me for Winter Solstice last year. Its blue-and-white-checkered pattern also has a sherpa lining. It kept me toasty even when our fire went out. Colton never slept with a blanket. Now I understand why. I suffer through it, tucking my knees tighter, and wrapping my arms closer. It doesn’t help. Chills sink into my spine, and I begin to tremble. My teeth are chattering before I know it. There’s no way I’ll last all night like this.

“Rrrrenall? Cccan we have ffffire?”

He opens one eye before shaking his head once in the negative, then pauses for a second before rising to his feet. He takes a few steps closer to me. What the hell is he doing?

A few steps in front of me he falls on all fours. His body vibrates again as the wind shifts around him. The patches of hair on his chest and face expand and grow. His tan nose expands, widens into a snout. Ears darken and elongate. In a blink, Renall’s wolf form stands eye to eye before me. I don’t recall him being this big when I carried him into my house. He’s huge from this angle. My whole body can probably fit into his jowls. He towers above me, his fur darker in the moonlight—but his eyes are the same green. I should be terrified. I should run because this is a predator in every sense of the word. But just like in the woods, I know he won’t hurt me. Those green eyes watch me, waiting for me to process before he makes a move.

I nod and stand very still.

He nudges his wolf nose in between me and the tree, pushing me forward and wrapping himself around me like a full-body pillow.

Immediately, warmth courses through me. His fur is soft, not as soft as the rabbit between my toes, but softer than I expected a terrifying wolf to feel like. Renall is all hard lines, growling language, and rough stares, but in-between that are soft touches and wiping my tears … this wolf is hard to figure out. I guess one thing that has been constant the past few days is that Renall has taken care of me and kept me safe and now warm. I don’t know if I can fully trust him. But what choice do I have when I’m untold miles from my home. Whatever the future holds, I’m pretty sure he’s on my side.

* * *

It feels like months, but it’s only a few days later when Renall finally mentions home. His home. We’ve been walking, and sometimes running, for days. On occasion, I swear we are going in circles—a rock, or a tree will look familiar to me. But it’s not like I can ask someone. No, my werewolf tour guide has still not magically learned my language. Although, Renall’s learning quite a few more words, and I’m starting to decipher certain growls.

Renall stops alongside a bush and grabs a few red berries. He hands them to me and nods. “Brrries.”

“Berries, yes, good job.” He uses any excuse to use his new vocabulary and see me smile. His growling language can’t quite pronounce things correctly. But he tries, and it helps fill the silence and the monotonous crunch of earth under our feet.

He grabs his canteen slung over his side that we made from a deer stomach and offers me some. “Grrater?”

“W–wwaaater,” I sound out, showing him how my mouth forms the W. It’s useless. We’ve tried pronouncing wolf and water before to no avail. But it gives us something to attempt to converse about. Renall tries, he really does, to make his mouth form words his language wasn’t made for speaking, but in the end, we mostly end up walking in silence.

“Renall, tell me about your home.” I’ve been antsy ever since he mentioned it this morning over a small fire where we roasted a fox.

He pauses as a shadow crosses his face.

And with not a word spoken between us, I realize that things are not what they seem.