Authors: Nina Berry

Otherkin (18 page)

BOOK: Otherkin

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“Perhaps not completely different,” said Morfael. “And perhaps not entirely unheard of.”

“Well, sure, she’s still a cat, but . . .” Smiling, he reached a hand out to me.

His hand looked huge, bigger than my head, and his eyes were enormous pools of darkness. He loomed over me, but the scent from him was the same, the smile the same one I’d seen on his face when he first saw me as a tiger. I stretched my neck out and rubbed my cheek against his fingers.

He scratched my chin, and a deep thrumming began in the depths of my body. I was purring. “Your fur is much softer in this form. I mean—” He cast a glance at Morfael, who remained expressionless. “The differences are astonishing.”

“What the hell is wrong with her?” November said from the doorway, back in human form and clad in the sweats Raynard kept in the locker room.

“Nothing’s wrong with her,” said Caleb. “It’s incredible.”

“She’s a freak,” she said, crossing the room as far away from me as she could manage. “Shifters only have one form, one! I’m a rat, and that’s it. I can’t just decide to be a mouse or a rabbit or some other type of rodent. London’s a wolf, not a dog or a fox. Dez’s got two forms!”

“At least,” said Morfael.

“Oh. My. God.” November jerked open the living room door and stomped off.

Caleb raised his eyebrows at Morfael. “You didn’t exactly reassure her.”

“They need to learn the world is larger than they know, and not all of it is the enemy. Desdemona won them over before, and will again.” Morfael turned to go.

“But why can Dez do this and nobody else?” Caleb asked, voicing my own thought. “Is it something to do with how the shadow was suppressed in her for so long? She’s not like any other shifter I’ve seen.”

Morfael did not turn around. “You are asking the right questions,” he said, and stepped into the kitchen.

“Damn, he’s annoying,” said Caleb, turning back to me. “What is it? Do you want to get down?”

I stood up, back arched, tail up, and looked down at the ground, then up at him, then at the ground again.

“Okay, I’m going to pick you up and put you down. Is that all right?”

I meowed and nodded once.

“Here we go.” He reached over and gently took me under the front legs and behind the back legs, then placed me on the floor. “I’ll open the door.”

I headed toward the door to the back cave, and he pulled it open for me. As I walked through, something buzzed. I looked up to see him touching his coat pocket, where he kept his phone.

He smiled down at me, but the corners of his eyes didn’t crinkle. “The other kids are going to have a hard time with this. Shifters are terrified of anything new. Kind of a funny trait in people who change their shape. Don’t let them rattle you.”

I was tempted to shift into my human form right there and then, naked or not. Then I could push him to tell me who was calling him. But the thought was too shameful. I’d have time to question him later.

I meowed, and he unexpectedly reached down and stroked me from head to tail. His hand felt strong and warm. I started purring again. “You’re beautiful, Dez.”

He shut the door quietly behind me.

I had to shift back to human form in front of the girls’ locker room because I couldn’t reach the doorknob. But no one was in the back cave to see me naked. Worried about the fear I’d seen in London and November, and the rage in Siku, I rushed into the locker room to throw on some sweats before running all the way back to the cabin.

London huddled in the back corner, hugging herself. November sat on the kitchen counter, sucking on a lollipop.

I said, “I don’t know what happened . . .”

“Get out,” said London, not meeting my eyes.

My heart dropped. “What? But I . . .”

“Get out, get out, get out!” Her voice rose to a shriek; then she swallowed hard and squeezed her shoulders even tighter.

“Yeah, you better go,” said November, her voice ice-cold. “London’s gonna have a hissy if she has to sleep in the same room as you tonight.”

Caleb had said they’d have trouble with this new side of me, but kicking me out of the cabin? “I’m still the same person I’ve always been.”

“The Moon knows
what
you’ll turn into next,” November said. I’d never seen her eyes so flat, so dead.

“The Moon doesn’t know shit,” I said. “And neither do I. This is all new to me.”

“Maybe Morfael will come down from the mountain and explain it,” she said. “But until then, you better go.”

My throat ached, but I stuffed down the desire to cry or plead with her. “Okay, I’ll spend the night at Morfael’s. We can talk in the morning.” I stuffed a few things into my suitcase. “But I swear to you I don’t know what happened.”

They said nothing as I rolled the suitcase to the door. My hands were shaking. Just an hour ago we’d all been laughing together. Why kind of people just turned on you like that?

Caleb. Where was Caleb? He’d accepted me from the start, and had kept on no matter what strange thing I did. He even seemed to like that I was different. I searched for him in the kitchen, the library, and the living room in Morfael’s house.

Then I heard his voice, outside. I dumped my suitcase and raced for the front door, even as I heard him say, “I can be there in half an hour.”

I stopped in front of the closed door as his footsteps moved past outside. “Please wait for me. Don’t leave,” he said.

My heart dropped to my shoes. He had to be on the phone, talking to whomever it was. I pressed my ear to the door.

“I miss you so much.” His voice was getting fainter as he moved away, into the woods. Toward the BMW. “I promise I’ll be there. This can work.”

I opened the misshapen door and peeked outside in time to see the edge of his black coat disappearing into the trees. He was carrying the duffle bag I’d seen under his bed. No one else was in sight.

This was it. I’d never see him again, or find out who he was talking to. He was running off.
With some girl.

I closed the door behind me and followed him.

All those lessons in moving silently paid off as I crept through the underbrush, keeping him just at the edge of my sight. My thoughts raced ahead of me. If he was going to the Beemer to drive away, I’d never be able to follow. No way to sneak into the trunk or cling like a superhero to the underside of the car.

The motorcycle
. Siku had moved it outside so he could work on implementing his plan to make it run silently. As long as he’d left it intact, I could follow Caleb.

I heard the Beemer chirp as its lights flashed. I sped up and circled to the left, keeping low. The motorcycle sat on the other side of the car. I needed to get it revved up before Caleb got too far away.

As the Beemer backed up and began to turn around, I rushed through the check list to start the motorcycle. Older bikes were cranky and picky about how you handled them. And machines always seemed to have a special hatred for me.

Fuel shutoff to “on” position, then pull out the choke and turn the ignition. No problem.

The headlight flared, startling me. I fumbled to turn it off. My night vision would serve me well, and I didn’t want Caleb spotting me.

I waited in the dark for a moment to see if Caleb had noticed it. His back was to me now, the BMW trundling along slowly down the dirt road, nearly a hundred yards away.

So set the kill switch, squeeze the clutch lever, and kick the gear shift lever, fingers and toes crossed. Balancing the bike, I kicked the side stand up and pressed the start button with my right thumb. The engine fired with a whispering
put-put
. Not sure if I should thank the Moon or some motorcycle shadow in Othersphere, I released the clutch and let it warm up for a few seconds. I didn’t have the couple of minutes it needed. I reached down and released the choke, praying it wouldn’t stall.

The idle slowed but still sputtered. I looked up and saw no evidence of the BMW, though my ears caught the sound of branches scraping along its sides. No time to wait for the idle to even out. I shifted and gently twisted the throttle.

I applied too much, and the bike took off. I nearly flew off the back of it. But a tight hold on the handgrips saved me, and I lifted my feet as if the ground were on fire. Wobbling wildly, I picked up speed and found where to rest my feet. I breathed deep, and the bike settled into a rut in the road.

The wind lifted my hair off my shoulders, cooling the nervous sweat down my back. The jolts from the bumps in the road made my kidneys ache, but I had to catch up. Thank goodness Caleb needed headlights to see and I didn’t.

Within a few minutes I spotted the red glow of his taillights and slowed down so I didn’t get too close. He turned right at the paved road and headed uphill. I followed.

As our speed increased, the wind whipped my hair relentlessly into my eyes and mouth.
My kingdom for a ponytail holder.
But only a few minutes later the frosty November mountain air chilled me down to the marrow. A worn hoodie and sweatpants didn’t offer much protection. My kingdom would be better spent on a heavy coat and gloves.

Teeth clenched to stop the chattering, I endured the chill for another thirty minutes as we wound our way up and then down into a narrow valley. At least it hadn’t snowed yet this year. The dense black of the soldier pines lining the road gave way to softer, more civilian oak and grass. Ahead a neon sign flashed, and I saw the warm glow of a lamp in a window. We were approaching something less than a town but more than a crossroads.

The Beemer pulled into a small parking lot next to a diner with a bright blue sign that spelled out RAE’S. Inside, the fluorescent lights cast a greenish glow over cracked red Naugahyde booths and the graying heads of men in Windbreakers seated at the bar.

I pulled over to the side of the road and kept the motor running. Caleb got out of the Beemer and headed for the diner. He’d asked whomever it was on the phone to wait for him. This must be the spot.

I threw down the kickstand and let the motor continue to idle. Beyond the diner the road was lonely, its short sidewalks empty. I didn’t need to stay long, and I doubted I’d be able to sneak in and overhear a conversation without being spotted. I just wanted to see the person Caleb was meeting; then I could leave him behind forever.

Unclasping my numb fingers from the handgrips, I dismounted, stiff as a grandma. Caleb hadn’t looked my way. I could see him scanning the interior of the diner as he walked past the lit windows.

I crossed the street to get closer, hands stuffed in my hoodie’s pockets to try to warm them. I stopped at the corner of the diner, gazing along the front of the building at Caleb.

He didn’t look back. He straightened as if seeing something important and ran a few steps. Inside, someone wearing white was running too.

Fear cut through me. White, the color of the Tribunal. I fought the urge to run. The person in white threw open the diner’s glass door and moved right up to Caleb. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, his dark head next to her golden blond one. Caleb had come to meet Amaris.

CHAPTER 20

A high, gasping inhale came out of me. I thought the ride had chilled me, but only now was I cold, cold as a corpse.

Caleb turned at the sound, too fast for me to duck out of sight. His eyes got huge as we stared at each other. “Dez . . .” he began.

Amaris saw me too. Her arched eyebrows drew together over her perfect little nose. “What’s
she
doing here?”

Tears pooled in my eyes, threatening to spill. Caleb edged toward me, as if he wanted to come closer but was afraid. Fury battled with piercing agony inside me.

“Traitor,” I said.

“No!” he said, reaching a hand toward me. “Amaris won’t tell them anything. Neither will I. We’re running away . . .”

“Together.” I choked it out. The tears broke free and ran down my cheeks.

“Yes.”

I couldn’t hear more. I ran.

He came after me, but I was faster. The weeks of training, the aftereffects of a recent shift, all gave me speed and strength he couldn’t equal. Good thing, because I didn’t want to look at him one second longer. I reached the sputtering bike and threw my leg over the seat.

“Wait, Dez!” His voice was rough, desperate. “You can’t . . .”

I kicked up the side stand and twisted the throttle. The motorcycle took off. I zoomed past him, then nearly toppled over as I circled back the way I’d come. But I managed to lean into the curve right and kept the wheels on the road. In the side mirror I saw Caleb stop running, then a bend in the street obscured him from sight.

The wind whipped the tears off my cheeks. My heart was gone, replaced by nothingness. Caleb had left me, just as he’d said he would. But how could it be with Amaris? She, her brother, and her father were his enemies, sworn to destroy him, me, the kids at the school, and all the otherkin on the planet. How could he have kissed me the way he did and want her?

I barely saw the road before me. My brain bounced between vivid memories of the touch of his hand, his lips, the dark desire in his gaze on me, and how tightly he had embraced Amaris. My chest ached, as if he’d embedded a knife in my heart and it lay there still.

More than anything, I wanted my mother. I wanted to be home and safe, and never to have heard of Caleb or shifters or Othersphere. But if Caleb was a traitor, or if the Tribunal caught him and made him talk . . .
I’ve got to tell them.
The instant the Tribunal learned about the school, they would bring all their might to destroy it.

I was so distracted that I nearly missed the tiny dirt road that led to the school. But I did a shaky one-eighty, dodging a white van as it passed by, and jolted my way back down the path. I left the motorcycle where the BMW had been and started to stumble back to the girls’ cabin before remembering I wasn’t welcome there anymore. Morfael. I could tell him and he’d make sure everyone got away safely.

Someone had piled sheets, a pillow, and a blanket on the couch in Morfael’s living room. A fire crackled behind the grate. At least Morfael wasn’t kicking me out.

He wasn’t anywhere on the ground floor, so I steeled myself and crept up the spiral stairs. I came up against the door. Firelight from below insinuated itself among the shapes. They seemed bigger now, more three-dimensional. I thought I saw a knife, a lightning bolt, and a dragon, but I couldn’t be sure. Only the dark sun seemed to hover longest, casting its long rays over everything else.

It took me a few seconds to get up the guts to knock. My first timid tap brought no response, so I banged on it three times with more force. “Morfael! I really need to speak with you. It’s about the Tribunal. The school could be in danger.”

No reply. So I made my way back down the rickety stairs and wandered into the library to stare at the phone. I had no way to call the shifter Council or my mother and Richard. Perhaps an e-mail . . .

My eyes came to rest on a small blue book on the side table near the phone. The book we’d been searching for when the trouble all began earlier that day. For the first time I noticed the embossed lettering on its spine:
Ancient Symbols and Runes.

I picked it up. It had seemed so important to find out what the dark sun stood for. But what did it matter now? Caleb was gone. With Amaris.

I ruffled the book’s pages, seeing strange squiggles and squares, crabs and daisies and grinning skulls. Then I saw it, a circular sun with black flaring rays. I read, “Rune of the Shadow Walker.”

Shadow Walker. Caleb had called Morfael that after he fainted and went into a trance. There was more. “Shadow Walkers are mythical creatures who traverse the veil between the worlds.”

At first the words meant little. But I forced myself to think. Caleb had said that no one could travel between this world and Othersphere. This book even said that such creatures were mythical. Why then did Morfael have that rune carved so prominently on his door?

Those flickering shapes. I blinked and lifted my head, snapping awake as a distant pounding sounded far away. Had I fallen asleep? I was still standing by the side table in the library, book in hand, but I felt as if an eternity had passed and strange suffocating dreams had claimed me. My whole body was vibrating. Behind me, someone was humming.

I whirled, heart jumping. Morfael stood there, his strange eyes bright gold with power. He was pointing his staff at me. The dark sun rune was carved on the tip.

“What the hell are you doing?” I stepped forward, reaching for the staff without thinking. The humming stopped as Morfael drew it back.

“I am sorry,” he said.

“Why?” I said sharply.

Outside, the thumping noise grew louder. Then he said, “I will do all I can. If I fail, you must do what you think best.”

The
whomp whomp
noise outside grew, almost drowning out his words.

“Oh no.” I pushed past Morfael and ran through the living room to open the front door. I knew what I’d see.

Dawn was lightening the eastern sky. The tops of the trees danced in a fierce wind. Waves of sound beat against us as the insect form of a large helicopter hovered over the central area between Morfael’s house and the two cabins.

As I gaped up at the aircraft, its side door slid open and a person in gray dropped something. A ladder unfurled, and the figure began to descend, a long, thin object, a gun, strapped to its back. Another form in similar colors crouched behind a gun mounted on a tripod. Its point swiveled toward us.

I slammed the door shut and threw the lock. “The Tribunal,” I said. “Get back.”

“No,” said Morfael.

Something thwacked into the door. Chips of wood flew. Bullets.

“Ximon is here.” Morfael walked toward the front door, unlocked it, then turned and threw something at me. I caught it automatically and looked down. The key to the gun locker. “I’ll hold them as long as I can,” he said. “The wall will drop when you’re ready.”

“Wall?” I said. “What wall? Don’t go out there!”

Morfael threw open the front door and strode out, staff held at arm’s length. A terrible vibration emanated from him. Through the slanted doorway I saw someone on the ground lower a rifle and fire at him point-blank. A few inches in front of his staff, something black opened and closed in the wink of an eye, like a brief splotch of ink. The bullet was gone.

Behind that man stood another, tall and broad-shouldered, his head of thick white hair not covered by a gray hood like the others. He smiled at Morfael, his teeth even and unnaturally bright. Ximon.

“Fiend,” he said, in an almost friendly tone. “Give me my son and I may spare your students.”

Behind him, five more figures in gray fanned out. Two more headed for the front door of the girls’ cabin. The other two fanned toward the boys’ cabin, guns pointed. I recognized the blond hair and proud nose of the last one—Lazar. But if Lazar was there, what did Simon mean about Morfael giving him his son?

“If you loved him as you believe you do,” said Morfael, “you would let him be what he is.”

That’s all I had time to see. Morfael made a small gesture back toward me and the open door.

Then it was gone. A wall of rock stood where the front of the house had been. The sound of helicopter blades vanished.

The front wall of the house had turned to stone, as if Morfael had drawn a veil of rock between me and the danger. I was now inside a cave. A cave drawn from shadow. He had given me time, and the key to the gun locker.

I ran.

Raynard stored Lazar’s silver gun in a locker near the gym equipment, along with boxes of bullets and an extra magazine. I unlocked it, wrapped a towel around my hand, and grabbed the gun, the original mag and the spare, and a box of bullets.

What if they’ve already killed everyone? What if I’m too late?

Even through the towel, the silver made my hand itch. I wasn’t the best person to use the gun, but perhaps I could get it to Arnaldo.

I ran back to the living room and made sure a round was chambered as I waited for Morfael’s rock wall to fall.

What if I’m trapped here?

To stop that thought I tried to picture the landscape outside. As soon as I could, I’d move to wherever the greatest concentration of objurers was. That would be the place that needed the most help.

I stuck the spare magazine and the box of bullets in my hoodie pocket. I moved to where I figured the door would reappear if Morfael ever let me out of there. He’d sent me for the gun. That had to mean he wanted me to fight.

I made sure the gun’s safety was off.

Then, without a sound, the wall was wooden again, and the thudding of the chopper’s blades beat through to me.

Siku’s guttural bear roar overrode the helicopter noise, followed by the rattle of bullets. Someone shouted, “He’s down!”

More bullets. The eerie howl of a wolf sent goose bumps down my arm.

I unlocked the door and pulled it open.

BOOK: Otherkin

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