Ellida Page 13

  ’Get off that horse, Illeanna!’ Harlan said. ‘It can jump over the gate, but not with you on its back! You’re going with me!’

  So Illeanna climbed on Harlan’s back and they jumped over the gate. The Horse was already waiting for them on the other side.

  “King Studen wasn’t ready to accept defeat. He raised his army and marched to Affan’s kingdom. There he met not only King Affan’s soldiers, but also Harlan’s warriors, who came to fight alongside Affan. It wasn’t long before king Studen was defeated. King Affan kept his word and gave his daughter to Harlan. ‘As I promised, I’m giving you my daughter to be your wife and the mother of your children, Harlan,’ the king said. ‘She’ll bear you many sons, but your first child is going to be a daughter. Name her Ellida. She’ll bring happiness and prosperity to your people.’

  “And from now on, when a werewolf clan proves to be strong enough in its spirit and good deeds, a female child from a union between our two kinds will become the clan’s Ellida. She will be a powerful force of life and good, and a token of the alliance between my people and yours...”

  Jack finished the story, but the sound of his soft voice still echoed in my ears.

  “That’s a beautiful story, Jack. Thank you.”

  He shifted slightly under the weight of my body. “It has many similarities to a Russian legend about—”

  “—King Afron, Yvan Vyslavovich and Elena the Beautiful,” I finished. “Yes, it does. But then Afron wasn’t a wizard and Yvan wasn’t a werewolf, although his best friend was. There was no Ellida and the horse mane was gold.”

  “And for us, it’s not a legend. It did happen. Affan lived long ago. Illeanna did marry Harlan, and they had a daughter who became the first Ellida of our realm. She still is.”

  “I know,” I said. “Morgaine told me she’s sort of the ‘Reverend Mother’ of our sisterhood. The name, Ellida, reminds me of Elatha, or Elathan, from Celtic mythology. He was a Moon God; he was forever young, had silver hair and sailed in a silver vessel. It was said he had a sense of humor and sense of nobility.”

  “Ah, I wondered if you were going to make the connection. Do you know what your wizard’s chronicles say about him?”

  “No. I was raised more or less as a human girl, remember?”

  “I know, love. Well, according to your sources, he was indeed a noble and wise man with a nice sense of humor. He was a wizard, not a god, of course, but for the people of those times, there wasn’t much difference between the two. He was an Albino, hence the silver hair. He introduced agriculture to a small group of hunter-gatherers, saving them from starvation during long winters. They thanked him by turning him into a mythological being. Affan lived many centuries after Elathan’s time, but Affan must have known about wise, noble and altruistic Elathan. And if you want to describe an Ellida in a few words, what would you say? Wisdom, humanity and nobility—the principal qualities the vast majority of you possess.”

  “Affan might even have learned about Elathan from human sources.”

  “And isn’t that fascinating? Our history and heritage are preserved not only in our books and documents, but often in human mythology, legends, and religions, in their folktales and epic poems, their literature, music, art.”

  “We’ve been sharing this world with humans from the beginning, but the more they evolved, the more ignorant of other races they became. They’re very persistent in denying the existence of other intelligences, either human or non-human, but then, I suppose they don’t have a choice. Not yet.”

  “They can’t deny us completely, but they can’t explain us rationally either, so they found a compromise: they turned us into their deities, heroes, mythical creatures, either good or bad.”

  I laughed. “They have a tendency to exaggerate a bit, though. They make us look both better and worse than we are.”

  “Humans have many qualities, among them beautiful imaginations. And in spite of all their—and our—imperfections, we share this world on so many levels. We’re inspirations for each other.”

  “Indeed we are.”

  Jack moved under me. “Shall we go, baby? Now I’m getting a bit chilly around certain spots that should stay warm.”

  I jumped to my feet. “Listen to me, Jack Canagan! I think we agreed to share the custody of those certain spots, so change back this instant and put your pants on, please and thank you. Otherwise, I’ll come up with long johns for werewolves, and I’ll make you wear them.”

  He laughed but shifted, this time starting from his head. I took his clothes and warmed them up with a simple spell.

  “Oh, that feels good,” he said, pulling up his boxers. “It’s very convenient to have you around, Miss Spock.”

  “Are you gonna be okay, Jack? No frostbite any place important? May I check?”

  “Stay where you are, Astrid Mohegan. I’m still not sure how to handle your kinky side. Not that I wouldn’t know what to do, under different circumstances. Wait until you get proper treatment the next full moon. God, I have a whole list of things I’m going to do to you.”

  I giggled. “Oh, tell me about it. I’m all ears.”

  “Nah, it’s a surprise. Start on your own list.”

  “I already have, long ago.”

  Completely dressed and warm, Jack pulled me against his chest. “Tell me just one thing from the list. The first one, for example.”

  “Okay, come closer,” I said and whispered it into his ear. His heart instantly doubled its speed.

  “You naughty little beast.” Jack’s raspy voice brushed my neck, sending shivers down my spine. His mouth closed over mine in a long, sensual kiss that left my head spinning and my heart jumping somewhere in my throat.

  “May I sleep in your room tonight?” Jack said when he caught his breath again.

  “Is that a good idea? How much self-control do we still have? I know mine’s running low. I can wait a few more weeks. I don’t want to risk anything now… Just remind me, what exactly am I risking?”

  “We must wait until the next full moon.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know, Astrid. I’ve never had to connect anybody before. We’ll wait, of course. But I want to hold you while you’re sleeping. Don’t deny me that.”

  I framed his beautiful face with my hands. “I won’t deny you anything, Jack. Ever.” I reached for his lips, kissing them gently. “You may come to my room. Blueberry can sleep in the armchair.”

  Jack smiled. “So you named your kitty?”

  “Yes. Do you like it?”

  “Very much. It suits her well.”

  “Thank you, Jack, for her.”

  “Oh, you’re welcome. Listen, when our house is done, can I have a dog? I’ve always wanted a dog, but never had one.”

  “What do you want?”

  “A German Shepherd. Blueberry’s still young. If we buy a puppy, they will get along just fine.”

  “Are you sure German Shepherds are good with cats?”

  He laughed. “Don’t worry about that. I am good with German Shepherds.”

  “Ah, your first cousins, right. I forgot.”

  A wide smile spread across his face. “Yours, too. And they are good with kids. I did my research.”

  “Then a German Shepherd it is.”

  WE WALKED briskly through the wood until we reach the first houses. Snuggled under Jack’s arm, I felt warm and safe.

  “Jack, I have a question about silver. There were so many positive connotations about silver in our culture. Even Affan’s horse had a silver mane.”

  “It was silvery-white, not actually made of silver.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I know it wasn’t made of silver. But there is silver everywhere in our culture. We seem to like it a lot. I saw lots of silver jewelry in Offenbach’s store. Well, my pendant is made of silver. Peyton and Maggie have tons of silver jewelry, your mother has a house full of silver accessories.”

  “Silver is actually the symbolic element of our race because the Moon, our celestial p
lanet, is associated with silver.”

  “And we live in the Silver State, as Colorado called itself in the past, but that’s probably just a coincidence, isn’t it?”

  “Silver hasn’t been mined here, in Red Cliffs,” Jack explained. “We don’t have significant resources, but it’s a different story across the Great Orme, in Copper Ridge. Geologically, the two territories are very diverse, and the Great Orme seems to be the border between the two areas. Maggie can tell you all about it. In short, we have the best pastures and mountain slopes for skiing. They have all sorts of mineral resources and hot springs. They did mine silver when Leidolf Withali, Seth’s father, was alive, and those mines are far from being exhausted.”

  “Then why is the town called Copper Ridge? Why not Silver Ridge?” I asked.

  “Well, they found copper first.”

  “What is the origin of the belief that silver can harm us?”

  “A human misconception. There are many explanations, none of them are very logical. This confusion goes not that far back, only to the seventeenth or eighteenth century, and the silver bullet. It possible that a silver bullet killed a wolf that somehow had escaped other weapons and the legend began.”

  “Arnaldur says our kind is virtually immortal. You say we have a long life expectancy. That’s not same as immortality, right?”

  “We can live forever, technically. Our ability to change forms provides us with incredible vitality, but we’re not indestructible.”

  “So we’re semi-immortals, like Achilles, for example?”

  “Sort of, yes.”

  “What can kill a werewolf? Betty said many werewolves died fighting in human wars, but besides that.”

  “A very big bullet shot from close range directly into a spine, or through the skull. It’s not easy, though, because we are protected, in both forms, much better than humans. Beheading. Daggers and swords coated with a poison that is bad for us. Occasionally, a very old werewolf turns into a wolf and stays in that shape until the end of his days, which, again, could last very long. Sometimes, we have to kill our rogues. Our immortality can be, how to say, disabled, temporarily or permanently, as a form of punishment. By the way, only Ellidas can do that. Ellida Morgaine will teach you how.”

  “Oh! I know it’s possible to do with the wizard powers; I didn’t know it’s the same for werewolves.”

  “Long life is a privilege, and it has to be lived wisely. It must not be wasted. Anyway, we can be slain, or we can lose the will to live, but all in all, not many things can harm us.” Jack turned to me and kissed the top of my nose. “Thanks to our strong blood, even the nastiest injuries heal easily.”

  BACK AT the house, Betty took in our wet, disheveled appearance and promptly sent us to change into dry clothes while she reheated the leftovers of the beef barley soup for us.

  Tomorrow, life would resume its usual routine, I thought later as we lay on my bed. But before that, there was a lazy night in front of us and Jack’s body curved around mine.

  Eighteen

  Astrid

  “HERE.” JACK’S finger tapped a small square on the blueprint of his house. “This is an adjoined room to the master bedroom. It’s never been used for anything except as storage for old junk. That’s going to be your bathroom. What do you think?”

  We were sitting at the kitchen table, sipping strong, aromatic coffee Jack had just brewed. It was still dark outside save for the thin orange line on the eastern horizon. The workmen were scheduled for seven o’clock.

  “Is the plumbing and wiring going to be a problem?”

  “No. Everything’s already there. They’ll just route it from the central system. You only have to choose the appliances so that we can order them.”

  “I would like to see the house first.”

  Jack looked surprised. “You’ve never been there? I thought Betty and Maggie had already given you a tour. Well, never mind that now.” He took my hand and pulled me from the chair. “Grab your cup. Let’s go.”

  JACK’S HOUSE was slightly bigger than James and Betty’s. It was a sturdy, solid three-storey red brick building with a dark-shingled roof and two tall terracotta chimneys, one on each end. Built into the roof-structure there were three small oriel windows. There were five similar multi-paneled windows, only much bigger, on the middle level, and four on the ground floor, two on each side of the main entrance. The wooden window frames and doors were painted white. The back side of the house looked similar, except the door was smaller and positioned to one side, and there were windows in the roof. There was a large yard behind the house, which I immediately pictured as my future garden.

  The layout was similar to the Mohegans’ house. On the left side of a square hallway there was a spacious dining room for formal occasions. A formidable-sized kitchen was positioned in the middle. The dining room and the living room were combined into a single great room, without doors or walls between. Several doors along the walls lead into a big pantry, storage rooms and shower-bathroom. An elegant curved staircase bridged the three levels of the house.

  “I’ve always thought the kitchen is the heart of a home, so a while ago I had all the walls between these three rooms knocked down,” Jack explained. “So, what do you think?”

  I took his hand in mine and squeezed it gently.

  “I like it a lot.”

  The bedrooms were on the second floor. The master bedroom was on the north side. It already had one adjoined bathroom and the storage room that Jack had shown me earlier that morning on the blueprint would be converted into my own bathroom. There were six more bedrooms on the floor, plus three empty rooms, lots of room for storage and another shower-bathroom on the third level.

  The renovations had already started. The rooms were free of furniture, the appliances were pushed to the center of the kitchen and the floors had been removed. “I had to start without you,” Jack said apologetically and kissed my temple. “James and I did the prep work. Now you should tell me what you want. What kind of floors, to start with?”

  I held up my hands. “Parquet, deep reddish-brown, oak. The rest, I really hadn’t thought about it. I’d like it simple.”

  “Me, too. We’ll figure it out, don’t worry.”

  When the workers came and started taking out the rubbish, we sat down on the floor and talked about how we wanted our house to look.

  At nine o’clock, I kissed Jack and went to find my teacher, who was waiting for me to continue with our training.

  EVEN WITH just a few hours left for sleeping, I had the feeling I was constantly behind schedule. Every morning Jack and I woke up at half past five, had a coffee and went to his house. At nine o’clock it was time for another lesson with Takeshi. Before noon, I would go meet Peyton. Morgaine had decided I didn’t need any more instruction from her, but we continued to talk about my future role.

  My own house had been stripped down almost to the walls, yet I didn’t have the slightest idea how I wanted it renovated so I asked Peyton to help me out.

  EVENINGS WERE for Jack and me. We would hop into my Ferrari and take off to one of the town restaurants, cafes or pubs. At first, we attracted lots of attention, but after a few days, people would just wave or say hi. My favorite place was the exclusive restaurant in The Watchman’s, a small hotel at the bottom of the Great Orme, twenty minutes from town. The hotel’s owners, Wolfgang Stammerman and Manfred Herzog, were James’ old friends and fishing buddies. Wolfgang was the restaurant’s Chef de Cuisine as well, and Manfred its patissier, trained in the best Central European pastry tradition. After our first visit, Wolfgang or Manfred would always take us to the same table, beside the window and near the fireplace. The atmosphere was intimate and the food excellent. The Watchman’s had a nice collection of wines in its cellar. Perfect.

  “Can we come here next month and spend a weekend at the hotel?” I asked, gazing longingly toward the rooms upstairs.

  Jack fingers brushed alongside my face. “We’ll do that.”

  “You�
�re going to be here for my next change, won’t you? You don’t need to go anywhere?”

  “I’ll be here, don’t worry.”

  I sighed. It was almost impossible to imagine that the next full moon would bring pleasure instead of pain.

  JACK AND I spent our late evenings and a good part of the nights talking. It wasn’t easy. There was so much suppressed passion between us. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to keep that enormous sexual energy under wraps if I let even the smallest part of it escape. Once my spirits were connected, I’d said to myself, Jack and I would make up for this enforced sexual abstinence.

  IT HAD been more than two weeks since I’d applied for the job, and I expected a phone call from the hospital any day. More than once, though, it did cross my mind that a full time job would be too much. I already had enough on my plate.

  When Dr. Falkenstein phoned to tell me they’d decided to offer the job to a candidate with more experience, I almost felt relieved. Almost, but not completely. I missed my job very much.

  Fortunately, he immediately asked me how I would feel about a part time job.

  “I’d love it!” I said readily.

  “We’ll have an opening next month. The ER, twenty-four hours, two night shifts, plus on call shifts. This time I’m not going to post it. Could you come here tomorrow? Let’s say eleven o’clock? We’ll talk about your job, and I’ll show you around. You’ll meet the staff and our new doctor. You two will work as a team.”

  “What’s his name? Maybe I know him.”

  “I’m coming in a minute,” I heard Dr. Falkenstein addressing someone. He either hadn’t heard my question or he’d chosen to ignore it. “Dr. Vandermeer, we have all your papers here. Emma will prepare the contract. See you tomorrow, then.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Falkenstein. See you tomorrow.”

  The line disconnected. I continued to stare into the phone, amused. Something was fishy. I was relieved that I hadn’t ended up with a full time job, but suspected somebody else’s subtle influence behind Dr. Falkenstein’s decision. It could be only one of two people: Jack or James.