Uncertain Futures
Kane cursed as his arms were yanked behind his back. Rough hands put shackles on his wrists, and his feet were restrained with steel and silver bands. He spat out a mouthful of dirty snow, growling as his attackers backed away. He searched for Ghost, but the shamans had quickly taken his little wolf away, Ghost’s enraged snarls and screams leaving Kane afraid for his mate.
“Move out of my way!” Caius snapped, the crowd around Kane cleared out, letting his clan leader through. Kane bit his tongue is surprise when Caius knelt in the snow next to him, brushing his long hair back from his face. Caius was angry, so angry Kane could feel his alpha’s fingers shaking before Caius regained himself.
Growls and harsh whispers rose from the pack of greater alphas around Kane, but no one stopped Caius as his clan leader helped him to sit up out of the snow, legs under him. He was already soaking wet, though the cold wasn’t bothersome. Wet jeans were annoying, and his arms ached from being yanked behind his back.
Kane looked up when a shadow moved in his periphery. Andromeda stood over them, hair raised on the wind, eyes glowing a brilliant blue. She took a few more steps until she was right next to Kane, and put a slim hand on his shoulder. The greater alphas who ambushed him took a few steps back, warily eyeing the formidable beta.
“The Tribunal members decided the charges warrant incarceration until your trial, youngling,” she said, and her fingers tightened on his shoulder until he wanted to wince. She was cautioning him to be quiet. Just past her, Kane saw the other Tribunal members, the clan leaders watching impassively from the front porch of her cabin.
*Say nothing, not even in your defense,* Caius told him, so soft in his mind that the others about them wouldn’t be able to overhear. Kane nodded discreetly, and breathed in and out a couple times to ease his racing pulse.
*Ghost? Is he okay?* Kane was worried for his mate. Ghost’s presence in the back of his mind was a riot of anger and fear. There was no blast of lightning and scent of burning flesh, so the surge of energy Kane had sensed in Ghost was stopped before his mate’s fears overrode common sense. He sent a burst of calm and affection, and hoped Ghost was in a state to feel him through their bond.
*Ghost is unharmed. The shamans could have done that better, that was poorly thought out. They are attempting to calm him now,* Caius replied, one big hand going under Kane’s upper arm. His clan leader lifted Kane to his feet, and when he was steady, Caius knelt down and unshackled his feet so he could walk. Growls came from the crowd, but none contradicted the clan leader’s actions.
“The accused is to be locked away until his Trial,” Julian declared, loudly enough to be heard over the wind. “The afflicted youngling is to be kept separated until the shamans’ testimony to his mental state and the nature of the bond.”
Gerald and Burke snarled, and Kane met Burke’s eyes across the distance between them. He shook his head once, a short motion, and Burke settled back, though he shook off the stranger’s holding his arms. Sophia went to Gerald, and helped him to his feet, brushing snow off his shirt and pants.
“I will see him to the accused’s cell,” Andromeda said calmly, gloriously indifferent to the brittle and hostile tension. Caius nodded, and squeezed Kane’s arm once before stepping back. Andromeda stepped to Kane’s side, and gestured for him to follow. “Come along, youngling. It’s not far.”
Burke took a step, as if to follow them, but Sophia reached out and took his arm, yanking him back. *Burke—take care of Ghost!* Kane held his best friend’s gaze until the crowd got in the way. He had no doubt that Burke heard his thought, and his best friend gave him a tight smile and a short nod, reassuring him. Kane took a deep breath and followed the White Wolf into the woods.
****
The woods were dark, little light from the rising moon and stars breaking through the boughs, the crunch of snow under their feet loud. The pines hung heavy with snow and ice, the recent storm having dropped a significant amount. The pines grew taller and denser as they walked on, Andromeda leading the way through the woods. An old path was cut through the dormant undergrowth, easier to see with the flush of green receded in the depth of winter.
Kane had explored very little of the park around Andromeda’s cabin; her territory was, while not off limits, clearly defined by her scent and it left most wolfkin wary of encroaching on her land. She held sway over all of Baxter, but the woods around her cabin were private space, so Kane had never been to this part of the plateau.
Figures rose out of the darkness, his wolfkin eyes able to discern the tall monoliths of stone sentinels nestled amongst the trees. Pines and oak curled around carved stone, the trees adapting to the foreign objects placed by wolfkin hands hundreds of years prior. The ancient pictographs of wolves as big as men and the vaguely female outline of a radiant moon peeked out past lichen and dirt. The air grew colder, though less oppressive—it felt as if the sky opened above him, and he was about to fall into the abyss. Andromeda’s hand on his arm tightened, anchoring him, reminding him he was walking, feet firm on the ground.
“There are places, even here in the New World, that are touched by the Great Mother,” she murmured. “Places that She has appeared, or blessed for reasons unknown to mortals. This is one such place. Humans knew it as sacred long before wolfkin migrated to this continent. We found it not long after Black Pine and her lesser clans took over this land.”
The darkness receded. They stood at the edge of a wide clearing, a deep bowl cut into the earth with high sides reinforced by large blocks of stone and clay. At least a hundred feet across, and maybe twenty feet deep, the space at the bottom was filled with gravel and sand, coated in a windswept swath of ice and snow. The pines towered high overhead, blocking out the sky and most of the wind, though stray, thin breezes cut through the night air. Silence echoed, their misty breaths loud in the night.
It was a pit, an old stadium reminiscent of coliseums in the Old World. Seating was tiered around the edge of the lowest part of the pit, covered in moss and roots from the trees, the forest reclaiming the efforts of man and wolfkin. Two breaks were built into the pit on opposite sides, black holes that presumably lead out from somewhere nearby, allowing combatants to enter separately. A breathless quality held sway, and not even the creaking of boughs laden with ice or the heavy beat of Kane’s heart disturbed the atmosphere of expectancy and infinite patience.
“Come, this way,” Andromeda motioned, tugging gently. Heart in his throat, Kane followed, nerves tingling along his spine and shoulders. Instinct told him they were being watched, but his senses said they were alone but for some small rodents and a pair of ravens in the trees.
Andromeda led him away from the pit, around a monolith and into a grove of pines, the space beneath the giant trees free of snow, thick with spent needles in hues of pale gold and deep red. The darkness was nearly total, but the iron cage wedged between boulders and tree trunks made his heart skip a beat.
“I’m not an animal,” Kane gasped out, for the first time feeling a trickle of concern. He was rarely worried for himself, his strength and regard saved for those under his protection, and he was left adrift for a moment before he felt Ghost reaching out to him. Wordless affection and concern from his little wolf gave him pause; his emotions were causing Ghost to be afraid, and Kane yanked himself back under control. His mate’s well being was paramount—Kane could handle a little rough treatment.
“We are all of us more animal than many are comfortable admitting,” Andromeda said, their steps muffled by the pine needles underfoot. “It is the suppression of one side of our nature that leads to the conflict with the other. Prejudice is a human failing, and the wolfkin have made it their own. The bias against shaman and alpha pairings has led to more than one pair being slain. Our Great Mother meant for the gifts to be sundered, not the wolves.”
“What?” Kane said, shocked.
“Surely you didn’t think, that out of the thousands of years and countless wolfkin born, that you and your little wolf were the first shaman and alpha to fall in love? Love knows no gender, youngling. You are not the first alpha to love a shaman, and you and Ghost will not be the last pair bound by love. I have never heard of a pair bound by love and Goddess, but even in my long life I have missed many things.” Andromeda chided him, and Kane shut his mouth, pressing his lips together. “I am old, youngling. I was born in the shadow of the Sundering, a generation past the sweeping genocides perpetrated by the War Wolves, the omnipotent alphas of old. My father was one of the First Shamans.”
Kane stared at Andromeda, left speechless. If her father was one of the First Shamans, then the White Wolf, this small and beautiful female beta, was the oldest living creature on the planet. Her age would rival the years of redwoods and the hidden leviathans that slumbered in the depths of the deepest oceans. Stormcloud, her father, had been one of the oldest wolfkin in their recorded history, and his daughter was nearly as ancient.
“Has a pair survived?” Kane asked, afraid of her answer. “A shaman and an alpha that loved each other. Has any pair survived?”
“History would tell you that no such pair has existed. But memory tells me you should have hope, youngling. Sacrifice, some greater than others was required, but some pairs have escaped prejudice and the retributions of the clans. Just as some have died or been broken apart by fear and disapproval.”
“Ghost is my hope,” Kane said as Andromeda opened the cage, hinges screeching, rust flakes falling from the thick bars. “Goddess bound or not, I’d do anything for him.”
“Hold onto that hope, Kane of Black Pine,” she replied, unlocking the restraints on his wrists. “It may yet see you through. Now strip and Change—you’ll bear the elements better in wolf form. Your guards approach, and they won’t care for your comfort as I do.”
Kane stripped, Andromeda putting his boots and clothes under a rocky overhang out of the elements. Kane Changed, his massive wolf form coming over him in one smooth wave. It was effortless to him as breathing; he shook out his fur, his long tail sweeping through the air. Andromeda smiled down at him, though by not much. He was nearly eye to eye with the clan leader in this form; he had yet to meet another wolfkin who matched him in size. The clan leader from Dread Clam might match him, though Kane hadn’t the occasion to see for himself.
His ears swiveled as the padding of wolfkin paws through snow reached him. Kane entered the cage, turning around in time for Andromeda to close the door and lock it, the antique lock dropping more dark rust flakes to the pine needles when she forced it shut. Several wolfkin all in their wilder forms loped into the small clearing, growling in aggression and satisfaction when they saw him locked away. These were greater alphas all—and he knew none of them. It made sense though—it would hardly be wise for the Heir of Black Pine to be guarded by his own wolves.
Fingers scratched behind his ear, and Kane leaned into Andromeda’s hand. A few wolves growled at the sign of affection, but Kane was thankful for it. Andromeda’s support may mean the difference between life and death. Her fingers found a sensitive spot behind his ear, and he sighed, relaxing despite the tense situation.
*I’ll see how your mate fairs, youngling. Keep your communication to him minimal—we don’t want anyone in the honor guard or Tribunal to listen in,* the White Wolf advised, and Kane nodded, a single dip of his muzzle. She scratched his head once more, then walked away, the wolfkin males parting with alacrity.
Not a one dared to make eye contact with the Red Fern Clan Leader—they may feel safe enough to growl and snap at Kane with him behind bars, but Andromeda was flat out scary. Back straight and steps effortless, Andromeda left him alone in the clearing, and his guards turned their regard to him, teeth bared, ears flat.
Kane dropped his head, hackles rising, and let out a deep, low rumble, so deep a human ear would miss it completely. Several of the greater alphas around his cage stepped back, wariness entering their eyes. A few braved his ire, and snapped at him, though such a show of bravado was meaningless several feet away with iron bars between them.
He sniffed at them in disdain, dismissing them completely, turning in a circle several times before settling down in the soft pines needles that covered the floor of his cell. Kane ignored their grumbling, and closed his eyes, mind centered inwards, where Ghost burned silver-white and pure.