The elder retrieves a knife and a long, carved stick painted with symbols. Feathers dangle from the end of the carved wood. She retrieves another wooden wand with something like deer hooves affixed to the end. The dried hooves clatter and set my nerves on edge as she rests them on the table. Next, she pulls out two tiny jars of something that glows like the bioluminescence I’ve seen in the sea sometimes when I’ve been exploring with my mother.
When she’s laid out all her instruments, the shaman says, “Close all the curtains and lock the doors. We must seal the space.”
“Ama,” Axel snaps, and Ama rushes around the house, covering the windows and slamming the doors, turning a part of the knob that makes a snicking sound.
When Ama’s done, the elder turns to her and says, “You stand as a witness, Second. And you…” She points a bony finger at Axel. “Come and stand before your True Mate.”
Axel progresses toward me like he’s trudging through quicksand toward his death.
When he stands before me, I blurt out, “It doesn’t have to be this way. Whatever I did, I didn’t know. Maybe the vampire tricked me. Maybe he cast a spell in the water. Maybe he…”
Axel’s lips part as if he’s going to speak, but then they press close, and he shakes his head. “Please proceed, Elder Amexaryl.”
“Axel,” I breathe. “Please don’t do this.” My arms and legs shake hard like the land when a sinkhole is forming. Tears drip from my eyes as I look at him. I don’t know what’s happening, but I feel weak and helpless, like a dying animal.
He swallows, a funny little lump in his throat moving up and down, and directs his gaze elsewhere. “I have no choice. The needs of the pack outweigh the needs of the one.”
He repeats the words like it’s a well-used phrase. Even though he’s supposed to be the leader, he must be as helpless as I am, because I can feel the pain in his every word, that this is hurting him in ways it doesn’t hurt me.
Elder Amexaryl picks up the stick with the feathers. “Hold onto her, and don’t let go until I tell you to.”
Axel’s hands clench mine, and he gazes into my eyes.
We both stare at one another, and though tears only leak from my eyes, I know he’s crying inside. I can feel it, through some strange instinct that makes his pain my own.
The elder draws symbols in the air between us. I begin to sob.
She picks up one of the jars, opens it, and dips her fingertip inside. She flicks the substance from her finger between us, and the symbols light up and twirl slowly in a circle. Then, she picks up the deer hoof stick and shakes it.
The moon on my arm bursts into flames, searing my skin. I try to wrench away from Axel, but his fingers hold on tight. “Axel, no!” I cry. “Please stop.”
“It’s almost over,” he whispers, his voice a hoarse rasp.
I clutch his wrists, clawing at him, writhing as unbearable pain shoots through my body and deeper than that, into my bones, my blood, the vibration of life inside me.
He, too, appears to be in the clutches of agony. His jaw is clenched, and he lets out a tortured groan, like an animal caught in a trap.
“Help,” I cry, not sure if I need help for me or for Axel or for both of us.
Ama stands with muscular arms folded, a victorious smile on her
face, like this moment is special for her.
Hatred for her boils in my stomach.
The shaman keeps shaking the feet, rattling them together like a rattlesnake, until I want to scream, to tear my hands off if that’s the only escape. The moon mark on my arm sears into my soul, wrapping around
some deep seed inside me. I feel a ripping sensation in the core of my being, like someone is ripping my spine out of my body. I shriek, and Axel closes his eyes, gasping as if in pain. Elder Amexaryl mutters strange words as she shakes the wretched rattle. The symbols between us whirl faster and faster, making a high-pitched hum that shreds my ear drums. I scream again, trying to rip my hands from Axel, but he’s holding onto me so hard I know he’s going to leave marks.
The old woman’s voice rises in pitch and intensity.
I’ve never felt anything so excruciating as the pain tearing through my soul.
“Release her, now!” the elder cries.
Axel’s hands open. I spring away as he staggers backward, falling to his knees, clutching his head.
Ama rushes to soothe him, but he shoves her away. “Get away from me,” he shouts.
Hurt crashes through me in waves. I don’t understand how something I can’t even see can wound me so deeply. If it were a cut, I would bandage it. If it were a crushed limb, I would tear it off with my wolf teeth just to be rid of it. But I can’t do anything, can’t escape the excruciating, incomprehensible pain. I turn and race from the room, sprint down the porch, and shift into wolf form without stopping to undress. I trip
when I’m halfway shifted, thudding to the ground and rolling over and over. Then I run, hard and fast, without seeing a thing. I just run. I dash across the shimmering road, and a car screeches to a halt, a horrible sound rising from it and following me behind the next house.
I don’t stop. I run for what seems like days but might be only minutes. I speed past the structures where Lewis cleansed and dressed me. Unbearable pain throbs from the place where the moon once marked me, but I don’t care. Finally, I find myself at the yurt where the healer lives. I shift back to human form, stand before her yurt, and batter the door with my palms.
The door opens, and Artuna looks at me with one white eye and one blue one. “I’m sorry, my child.”
“Where’s my mama?” I scream.
“You’re too late,” she says. “Your mother is dying.”
“No!” I cry, pushing past her. I race to the center of the yurt where my mother rests on a fur pelt, barely breathing.
“Luna,” she wheezes. “Is that you?”
I kneel before her. “Open your eyes, Mama. Open your eyes, and let’s get you out of here.”
Mama’s head tips back, and she sniffs the air. Her eyelids flutter open. “You’ve been with the wolves,” she whispers. “Never trust the
wolves.”
And then, as if that took every ounce of strength, her head collapses on the plush fur.
“Wake up!” I plead. “Open your eyes again, Mama. I was taken against my will. They promised to keep you safe and protect you if I did what I was told. Mama, don’t go, don’t leave me!”
Healer Artuna’s firm fingers wrap around my shoulders and urge me to stand.
I whirl to face her. “Do something,” I wail. “Bring her back to me!
Please, I’ll do anything!”
Her eyes well with pity. “I’ve done all I can, my child. She’s lost too much blood. I’m afraid she’s gone. You were blessed to say goodbye. You can stay longer if you’d like to send off her soul.” Artuna tries to smooth my hair back from my face, but I can’t bear even an ounce more devastation that what’s already tearing me apart, turning my body inside out.
I wrench away from her, sobbing uncontrollably as I flee from her yurt. Without thought, I sprint through the woods, throwing myself deeper into the familiar shadows of the swamp, searching for a comfort that I will never find again. Not without Mama.
As I draw near to Bogbeast Waters, my bare foot snags on a vine, and I sail through the air and land with a splash in the warm, murky water.
I’m back in the marshes where I was raised, but there’s no comfort for me now. Everything I’ve loved is gone. There’s no reason to rise, to get back up, to keep living. There’s only pain in this world.