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Free Spirit (New World Book 2) by Erin D. Andrews (46)

Book 3: Shifter’s Hope

Chapter One

“The flames that chewed through my bed and all my clothes, also ate up the last photo I had of Boris. It was from our first home. The two of us were playing in the forest. We weren’t allowed in the playground with the humans, so our mom would take us to the woods and say, “No humans here! Go climb the trees and dig in the ground. Come home after you’ve had an adventure.”

I always loved how she would do that, take a place made for shifters and turn it into something special. As if our place in the world wasn’t slowly closing in on us. As if we were safe and happy, free from the threat of humans everywhere.

Boris was wonderful at finding some made-up little treasure. He would hold up a long stick and cry out, “I’ve found the lost wand of the old wizards!” Then we would spend the rest of the afternoon casting spells on one another, pretending to be frozen in place and hiding from the imaginary enemy, completely forgetting about the real one.

That first home was my favorite. I probably only feel that way because I was so small at the time. I remember the cheap, formica, kitchen table; the old, ratty couch, where we would fall asleep watching the same three movies every Sunday; the little patch of grass in the front. We felt like royalty in that house. Most of the shifters we knew lived in dilapidated apartments where neighbors could do something called “keep an eye” on their, supposedly, wild neighbors. That phrase always evoked bizarre images for me – a single eyeball resting on top of a person’s head and looking in all directions to see what he or she was actually up to all day.

I don’t remember how my parents got that little place with the grass and the forest within walking distance. That was back when there was something of a forest. It was all little scrubby trees and brown grass, but we loved it all the same. It must have been a beautiful forest back when a lot more people were around. I once heard that there were even groups of humans dedicated to caring for the trees and the animals. It must have been a beautiful time.

We were forced to move several times. I only cried the first time when I had to say goodbye to that soft, beautiful land where I had played for so many hours. Boris jabbed me in the arm when my tears fell.

“Don’t be sad. They’re watching you.”

“Who?” I sniffed.

“Them.” I looked to see a group of tall men in black vests and shiny black helmets. Why would they be watching me? One of them had some kind of black object in his hand. It wasn’t until later that I would learn those black instruments were designed to shock shifters into behaving. I would be tased many times throughout my life, and every time it took me by surprise just how much it hurt.

Our second home was one of those old apartments with no sunlight, voices coming through the walls, and brown water flowing through the faucets. Our dad was handy back in those days–back before he got sick. One day, I came home from scavenging and found him lying on his back under the sink, whistling while he worked on the pipes.

“Hi, princess!”

“Hi.” I kneeled on the floor next to him, then lowered myself all the way down to see what he was doing. “Why are you under the sink, Daddy?”

“I’m making the brown water go away,” he responded, then reached out to give my ponytail a light tug. He always did that, and it always made me feel special.

Dad kept his word. The water ran clear. Then he fixed the bed I slept on so that it wouldn’t be at an angle, and he made the TV work so we could watch the Bachmann stories and histories. I sincerely believed that my father was invincible and always would be. What proof did I have otherwise?

There was no playing at the apartment. We had to scavenge to help our parents pay the bills. We tried going to school, but we were quickly expelled. I remember that hurt more than anything. Why are teachers allowed to forbid children from attending class? Who made that decision? I came home with a face covered in tears that my mother quickly wiped away.

“Who needs school?” She took my hand and led me out to the street. “You see all those pieces of metal?”

I nodded.

“Well, those are worth money. From now on, you have a job. Collect those bits of metal and bring them home to me. Then we’ll go and get some money.” She smiled and scrunched down to put my face in her hands. “You’re strong enough to make your own way in this world. You remember that.”

I guess I really had some amazing parents. They had nothing, but we were never hungry, never felt left out or pushed aside, and they always took the time to play with us and laugh with us. I really miss them.

The burned photo is hot in my hand. I don’t know why that surprised me, but it did. Of course, a burned photograph would be hot; what kind of idiot was I, anyway? I watched as the little orange sparks continued to singe the edges little by little and mistakenly waved it in the air in hopes of putting them out. Of course, it backfired, (again, I must be some sort of simpleton), and the sparks grew into flames in no time. I dropped it on the pavement and stepped on it, but that only served to make the photo fall apart under my foot. My last photo. Way to go, Emily. Way to go.

Tina, the wolf that killed Boris’ murderer, came over to see what happened, but as soon as she saw the photo bits, she just shook her head sadly. As if this had anything to do with her. As if it were her brother who had died.

“I’m so sorry, Emily.”

“What are you sorry about?” I wrapped the blanket I had saved around me a little tighter. “You already took care of his killer. You and I are square.”

“No, that’s not what I meant–”

“Whatever.” I turned away and waited for her to leave, hating myself every moment until she finally walked away. I wish I could tell her how much she meant to me, that she made the world better, that a part of my brother lived in her, and that she was amazing. But I couldn’t say those things without crying, and I would be damned if I would cry in front of Tina or anyone. No one got to witness my tears. I made sure of that.

The rest of the night went by slowly. The other shifters ran for water down in the former prison (now home to the bats), and then ran it up with the help of the wildcats and their insanely strong legs. The flames only lapped up one corner of the palace, but it just happened to be my corner.

“We have to find out what started this fire.”

“We know what started this fire. Some human who fancies himself a hero.”

“It wasn’t a human. It was one of the wolf pups. They love to play with fire.”

“What are you talking about? Wolves hate fire!”

It went like that for hours. I didn’t say anything; I just sat on the little wall that bordered the patio outside my room. I never thought I would live in a palace. I never thought a palace could be so full of loneliness.

It wasn’t a bad deal, really. We’d kicked the president and his crew out a few months before and, to our surprise, they still hadn’t attempted to take it back. I don’t know where they went, but I was sure that they had gone somewhere far from us. Somewhere with another palace, with more people to frighten and rule over.

All the humans were sure that we would put them into some kind of cage, feed off of them, and terrorize them at every opportunity. They seemed genuinely surprised when we didn’t even glance at them. We were all done with humans of the State. Who cared about them? They were a bunch of petty cowards. I didn’t want to waste my time hanging out with humans, much less digest them. Too gritty.

Just kidding, I’ve never eaten a human. I’ve never even met a shifter who tried it. We’re all grossed out by the idea. It’s just a scary story the people tell each other, and we don’t do much to correct them. Sometimes, it helps to be the boogieman.

The fire was put out, and people calmed down. I looked at the tall, burned pieces of lumber that had been my room and vaguely wondered where I would live. The other shifters who had lost their quarters were all chatting good-naturedly with those around them–wolves with wolves, eagles with eagles. I sat and listened to it all, hoping some unknown voice would speak up and say, “Emily! Come bunk with us. We boars have to stick together.” Of course, there were no other boars. Boar shifters are few and far between, and we often have to make do for ourselves.

That night was the first time I saw just how on my own I actually was. First, I visited the bears in the west half of the palace. They had made themselves at home in the cavernous library and were stretched out in front of a warm fire (yikes), and were using piles of books for pillows and armrests.

“Um, hey. I, uh, kind of need a new place to stay.”

One of the male bears yawned, and a huge, booming bear voice came out of his human throat. “Oh. Was your room damaged by the fire?”

I took a little step closer. “No, it was completely burned up. I don’t have anything left. I was hoping, since we’re all earthbound shifters and, you know, friends and everything, maybe I could just grab a corner in the back or…” I waited for someone to interrupt me, but all I got in return was a loud snore. My shoulders fell in disappointment. Well, bears were too sleepy for me. I need some shifters with a bit of spirit, anyway.

I moved on to the wolves. Fellow earthbounds, energy galore, and I already had Tina as a friend. Surely, she would say something on my behalf.

I knocked on a bedroom door, and the whole room exploded into a chorus of excited cries.

“Hey! Hey, there’s someone here!”

“Did one of you invite someone? Who could it be?”

“Open it! Open the door!”

I half expected a crowd of little puppies to greet me once the big, white entrance swung open, but all I saw were young, lithe, female wolves. I scanned the room for Tina, but there was no sign of her.

“Hi. Hey.” I smiled, but the expression felt weird, so I attempted a casual lean.

“Hi.” One of the younger wolves stepped forward and copied my lean with a wink to her friends. “So, what’s up?”

“Actually, my room burned down in the fire. I was wondering if you had any extra beds here, or maybe just a spare couch or something…”

This set off a fit of giggles among the young girls, several of whom started bouncing on one of the giant, silky soft beds. “Gosh,” my guard said, feigning concentration, “I don’t think so. Miriam?”

“Yes?”

“Do we have any space for any boars in here?”

The girl, Miriam, gave an exaggerated sigh and shrugged as big as she could, arms spread out. “For boars? Nope. Don’t think so. Try the prison downstairs. It’s pretty roomy.” This made all of them giggle and got me to spin around on my heel.

“The prison,” I said to myself. “Right. Like I’m going there.”

After a few hours of polite ‘no’s,’ ‘I-don’t-think-so’s,’ and pitying head shakes, I headed for what used to be the most secure entrance of the palace. Its many locks and the big scanner for security rings were all broken, and the door opened easily, but I still felt like I was descending into a place I shouldn’t have gone at all.

I walked down the metal steps and listened to the ring under my sneakers. I took a deep breath. “Don’t get emotional. Just ask politely and let them say no. Then just go sleep in the street or something.” Smiling again, this time in genuine hope, I approached an older woman who I hoped was the mom of the family.

“Hi,” I said, “I’m Emily.”

“Well, hello!” Yup, she was a mom all right. Only mothers were this good with unexpected visitors. “We normally don’t get many visitors down here, but this has been the place to be all night. Did you hear there was a fire earlier?”

“Yeah,” I said, smiling with relief to hear a friendly voice, “that’s actually why I’m here. See, it was my room that burned down. I really need to find a new place to live. Just temporarily.”

She leaned forward and inspected me a moment. “Aren’t you a boar?”

“I am.”

“Surely, you don’t want to be down here with us, sweetheart.” she gestured to her young sons behind her. They were chasing each other around the prison space, ducking in and out of prison cells and screaming for mercy to one another. “We’ve got two crazy boys down in this space that are nocturnal to boot. And you’ll need your sleep. We don’t even have any real furniture down here, seeing as we prefer to sleep in animal form hanging from the ceiling. Maybe you should try the bears. The library is nice.”

At the mention of the bears, I felt the tears push their way out of my eyes. “I did try the bears,” I said as my tears quickly became full-on sobs. “They didn’t want to hear anything I had to say. I tried the wolves. I tried all the airbornes. I even talked to some amphibians. No one wants me. This is the only place I hadn’t been yet, and now…and now…”

She stopped me with a big hug, rocking me back and forth. “Hey, hey now. No more tears. It’s all going to be all right.” The female bat bent down and wiped my face with her skirt. “We would be thrilled to have you. Absolutely delighted.”

“Th-thanks. Thank you.” I hiccupped the last of my sobs down and took some big, shuddery breaths. My face was covered in tears and snot, but there was nothing to wipe it with. The mother saw me looking around and quickly offered a small towel from the dress of her pocket.

“Here you are.” She refused it when I tried to give it back. “No, no, dear. That’s yours. A lady should always have a hanky on her. They’re good luck.” She changed the mood with a clap of her hands and then looked around the prison. “All right, let’s get everyone introduced. Come with me. Boys!” She waved over her sons, “Boys, I want you to meet our guest.”

The two froze mid-chase and turned to us. They raised their eyebrows and tilted their heads, but didn’t come any closer.

“Nathaniel, Thomas–get over here. I’m not asking.” All the spunk gone out of them, the two walked over reluctantly. They approached me with big, tired sighs.

“Nice to meet you,” they intoned almost simultaneously, and politely gave me their limp handshakes.

“All right,” I got down and squinted at them, “who is who? Which one of you is Nathaniel, and which one is Thomas?”

“I’m Nathaniel. I’m the older one.” He stretched up a little taller. He was just barely bigger than his brother, but his shoulders were a touch broader, and his Adam’s apple was just a bit more pronounced. He was still a skinny little boy, but it was clear that he had the confidence that came with knowing he was bigger and would always be just a bit older.

“Nice to meet you, older one. I’m Emily.”

Nathaniel smiled at me, then suddenly turned his head in suspicion. “Are you a babysitter?”

“No. I’m a homeless lady. I have nowhere to live, so I wanted to come and ask If I could stay with you and your brother.”

“Are you going to sleep on the ceiling with us?” Thomas’ squeaky voice caught me off-guard. His eyes were big and round, like little lakes, and I could see myself in their placid waters.

“I sleep on the floor. I can’t hang upside down like you.”

He barely listened. Instead, he grabbed my hand and pulled me over to a corner of the prison and pointed up. “See that? That’s where I sleep. I did all of those drawings by myself. And those are the comics that me and Nate found in a big, old house.”

“Nate and I,” his mother corrected him. She had followed us over, and I noticed she was carrying a pillow. Thomas sighed and let his head loll back with the exhaustion of having a mother. “And I think I forgot to mention, my name is Mildred,” she said, smiling. I smiled back and really meant it that time. It was nice to feel genuinely happy.

The comics Thomas had pointed out were suspended from the ceiling on a cord that went in four directions, helping them hang perfectly horizontal way above the ground. I pointed up. “You say you found those in a house?”

He nodded. “Yeah! One of the empty ones.”

“All the president’s friends ran away when we came here,” Nate explained. “They’re all such chickens.”

“Nathaniel, have some compassion,” his mother chided. “Their whole world turned upside down, and they panicked. It’s perfectly natural. Now, Emily,” she said, getting back to business, “it turns out we do have a little bed down here. It was tucked into one of the offices. We can set it up in your own little corner or clean out an office for you so you can have some privacy. I’m assuming you sleep all night?”

“More or less.” I accepted the pillow from her. “I’m up pretty late, and then I sleep a few hours. I’ve always been a little too twitchy to pull off a whole night. Thanks.”

I walked to the office packed full of debris and set down my stuff. How would Boris tackle all this?

It was so easy to picture him standing there with me, jabbing me in the ribs before running up to the first broken chair in the lower left-hand corner to move it aside. “Start low and work your way up,” he would have said.

Placing my new pillow on the floor, I did just that. The pieces were less intimidating once I had a plan of attack. The boys ran over and helped me. No, I explained, they could not make a tunnel. No, they were not allowed in my room. No, I did not read comics. No, I couldn’t fly.

Their questions were endless, but I didn’t mind. I loved how quickly they talked and how much they wanted to know. The constant conversation certainly made the work go faster.

Soon, we had the whole office cleaned out and the small bed moved in. The room had its own lights, and I found an old, thick curtain to put over the window to block out the prison lights.

“Let’s do an experiment,” I said to my little, adopted brothers. “You two go outside and sing a song. I’ll close the door and see if I can hear you. Okay?”

“Okay!”

“I’ll sing it super loud!”

They ran out, and I closed the door. To my shock, I could barely hear them as they screeched a song about frogs on a log. I opened it and smiled.

“Just as I suspected – not a word. This room is sound proof.”

They scooted in and shooed me out so that they could hear the lack of sound for themselves. I stood outside the uncovered window and started to sing.

 

“Oh, I wish I was in the forest,

Where mother would take me to play.

I wish I could climb in the trees,

And escape from school today…”

 

They yelled through the door in muffled voices, “Can’t hear you! Sing louder!” I just mouthed the words as if I were actually screaming them near the window, and their eyes went even bigger. “Whoa! We can’t hear anything.”

They opened the door, and I kept up the silent act. They both gasped.

“Oh, my gosh! Emily, we still can’t hear you. What happened?”

I burst out laughing, and they laughed with me. Over their shoulders, I saw their mother smiling at me, and I beamed back at her. This was exactly what I needed.

That’s how I moved in with the bat family. The father, Ted, came down later after I was asleep but stayed up until I was awake to introduce himself. “Great to have you here, kid. You need anything–anything at all–you just tell ole’ Ted. Got that?”

“Yes. Thank you so much.”

He went to bed after that, and I walked up and out to start my day. I knew where a little, hardly-used bathroom was, and I headed that direction in hopes of taking a shower.

The next few days were basically like the first. My two, adopted brothers had thousands of questions for me and could hardly stand to listen as I answered because it meant they had to wait to ask the next one. Mildred fussed over me, and Ted checked in on me once a day.

“Need anything, kiddo?”

“No. Don’t worry.”

He surprised me one day. I came down to go to join the family for a dinner of grubs and saw that he had installed some shelves in my little room. “For your things.”

I shrugged. “I don’t have any things.”

He opened his mouth to reply but had no words. Instead, he just gave me his little smile. “Well, all right then. Just the shelves.”

He and Mildred must have asked around to find out what had happened and then organized some people, because the next day, Tina came to see me with a pile of clothes folded between her arms.

“We know you lost your stuff in the fire,” she said, holding it all out to me, “so we wanted you to have these. You can’t wear the same clothes every day. You’ll stink.”

It hurt to take them, but I had no choice. The last thing I wanted was charity, but what else could I do? I quickly put them all up on my shelves and then offered to show Tina around the prison.

“Yeah. I never get a chance to come down here. Let’s see the place.”

I was sure the boys would dance around us or at least pelt us with questions as soon as they saw Tina, but to my surprise, they grew shy and slunk off to a corner.

“What’s wrong with you two?” They didn’t answer. I looked at Tina and saw it immediately: they were intimidated by how gorgeous she was. She gave them a smile and little finger wave, and that sent them up to the top of the stairs so they could peer down at us from their perch. She laughed.

“Boys,” she lamented with an eye roll. We giggled about it together, and I gave her the grand tour of the cells and former offices, all of which had been cleaned out by the boys and me. They had insisted they needed a clubhouse for boys only and that their father needed a studio, though I never saw Ted do anything creative. Tina was pleasantly impressed with all of it and said so.

“This is nice!” She plopped down on my little bed and looked around my personal little space. “I mean it. You have so much privacy. That’s in short supply around here.”

“It is nice. And I like sharing it all with a family. Even a nocturnal one.”

“Hey,” Tina touched my arm, and I did a double take, then told myself to calm down, “we’re all going to check out some of the nearby abandoned houses in the morning. Want to come? I went on my own last week, and it was amazing. You should join us.”

“Okay. Should I just meet you upstairs?”

“Come to the front entrance just after nine. We’re forming a search party.” She waggled her eyebrows up and down to show me just how serious she was, and I laughed.

“Well, I can’t say no to a search party. It simply can’t be done.” She giggled with me that time.

“Great. I better go and get some sleep. See you in the morning.” She strutted out and made sure to blow the boys a kiss. They froze as the invisible gesture flew through the air, uncertain whether or not it had hit its intended targets. Tina’s friendly giggle echoed behind her as she left the former jail.

That night, I had dream after dream about Boris. I saw him so clearly it was maddening. He was so close that I could almost touch him. I desperately wanted to feel my hand gripping his arm the way I used to whenever I was frightened. He would let me squeeze my way straight through his arm, cutting off the circulation and practically snapping the bone if I needed to – whatever it took to make me feel safe.

“Sis,” he said through his boar face, “look at me. Look at me.”

“I’m looking. What do you want to show me?” He gestured down to his body which was still human, then his boar head let out a horrible squeal. It was the same scream he had let out just before he died that awful day.

“Boris!” I cried out the name as I sat up in the dark. For a moment, I was sure he was there in the room with me, but when I reached out for him, there was only air in front of me.

Morning snuck up on me, and I nearly missed the meet-up. I pulled on one of my new shirts and pants as fast as I could and ran up to join the group.

“Hey, Emily,” Black Feather smiled at me from the front of the little congress. “You made it. I think you were the last one we were waiting for. Yes? Okay. Great. We’re headed to the eastern region where there are some houses that we believe have been abandoned. Remember, we’re checking to see if the plumbing is on, if the electricity works, any packaged food left behind. We got it?”

Everyone nodded and smiled at each other. I felt myself getting in on the anticipation. It sounded like a great adventure, exploring an old mansion and looking for valuables. My shoulders bumped into Tina, and she bumped me back.

“All right, we’re headed out. Feel free to shift.”

The group of humans on the inside of the house quickly turned to flapping birds and bounding wolves and wildcats as we exited the building. I happily ran full speed in boar form, crashing through the small plants that were gradually reclaiming the land around the palace. Soon, the whole mountain would be green and full of shifters. I couldn’t wait.

I followed my friends by their scents. All of them had strong, specific smells, so tracking individuals was no problem. I barely had to open my eyes, the trail was so clear. Together, we bounded up and over to one side of the mountain range. We would normally be on the lookout for humans, but that day, we felt safe and ready for anything. Any person who came upon us would have been greatly outnumbered.

When I reached the house, I kept my animal form. A few other shifters went back into human shape, and I let them have a look first. When no shrieks or gunshots rang out, I ventured in.

My hooves sank into the carpet below them by about half an inch. It was that soft. I looked up and saw that the ceiling above me arched into a spacious, cavernous shape and was decorated with a mural of flying human babies. I snorted and moved on, anxious to see what else the place had in store.

Ahead of me, other shifters went into bathrooms and the kitchen, bedrooms, and any room with books in it. None of us could read, but we loved books all the same. Sometimes, they had great pictures in them or some random note would fall from the pages. I wanted a book like that.

I walked for a few minutes in and out of rooms, then I found a big, pink bedroom.

The bed had giant posts that pointed up to the ceiling until they almost scraped it. Beautiful, white cloth hung between each post, making it look light and airy. There were huge teddy bears on the floor that sat and watched me as I shifted back to human shape so I could reach higher. There was a collection of books on top of a shelf that I wanted.

They were small books with hard covers. They showed towns, other palaces, other times. I took a big pile of them, thinking Nate and Tom would want to see them as well. One book fell on the floor and opened near my feet.

I looked down and dropped everything. One of the hard books slammed down on my big toe, but I hardly noticed. The picture that had appeared to me in the book was the exact image of my brother, Boris.

There, on the page was his crooked smile, his messy brown hair, and his soft eyes. I could practically hear his voice rising from the paper when I looked at it. My brother–my brother, Boris. My fingers touched the page, and for a moment, it felt warm, like skin.

I closed it and hugged my treasure to my chest. I walked out with the other books in my arms, but the one with my brother’s face was hidden in my jacket, zipped up right next to my chest so that I could keep him right next to me. I didn’t want anything to happen to him a second time.