Running with the Alpha's Son, page 20
“Is this it?” I ask.
Omar has taken me to the very edge of the settlement. All the other tents sit behind us, and in front is a lopsided shelter that looks about ready to topple over. The fabric walls are aged and dusty and look as though they’re almost wearing through in places. Some weed or shrublike bush grows around the base of the poles and climbs up one side of the structure. The doorway is a tattered flap, being frisked about by the breeze. It looks small and dirty, but at the same time homely. It’s like the desert equivalent of a witch’s cottage you’d find in the woods in some fairy tale. Beyond Yoki’s tent the desert seems to stretch on forever.
“This is it,” Omar says and moves to the shelter, lifting aside the flapping door and entering without announcing himself.
Tremulously, I follow.
The entrance is so low I have to duck but inside things open up in a weird Doctor Who–type way. The tent is long and narrow, with two large sheets of fabric pulled back at the far end to reveal the view—or more like the walls have been peeled away so that the inside and the outside are one and the same. The floor is dusty but covered in rugs that seem to move under my feet. Ferns and succulents grow in pots and in baskets hanging from the vaulted ceiling. Antique-looking cabinets and stools are dotted around the perimeter of the room, along with old wooden shelves housing jars of powders, herbs, and strangely colored liquids. In the middle of the room, floor cushions surround a circular table with rocks and—are those…? Yep, bones in a pile in the center.
“Yoki?” Omar calls out to the seemingly absent guru.
He turns and gestures for me to come farther in. It’s cool and dry in the tent, and a pleasant, faintly floral aroma fills the air. I join Omar by the central table.
“Right on time,” Yoki—or who I assume is Yoki—says as they appear at the opening on the far end, draped in flowing white fabrics, their silver hair long and held back from their face with a braided leather headband.
They’re younger than I imagined. For some reason I was picturing some hunched-over nanna type. But Yoki can’t be much older than Omar. Their skin is flawless, russet but freckled slightly. Their eyes are startling gray.
Omar heads to greet Yoki, taking their hands in his and bowing his head. “Lunar greetings.”
“Moon gods’ blessings,” Yoki says in return, their voice smooth and dulcet, as though they possess wisdom well beyond their years.
Omar and Yoki nod to each other before Yoki looks up at me and smiles. My breath catches in my throat. Who is this strange ethereal person? Where did they come from? I’ve never met anyone like them before.
“And moon gods’ blessings to you, Blood Wolf,” they say, only their lips didn’t seem to move, or did they?
“And, uh, the same to you,” I stammer, more aware of how un-ethereal I am than ever.
“Come, sit,” they say, for sure with their mouth this time, and gesture to the cushions. “Tea?”
“Um, sure. Tea would be great.”
“Omar, would you mind?”
“Certainly.” Omar bows not unlike a butler and then moves over to an electric stove I hadn’t noticed before where a steel kettle is already heating.
For some reason I assumed Omar would leave me here and head off to help, I dunno, patrol the borders or build something like Jasper is doing, but instead he goes about making tea as if he lives here as well.
When I sit and turn to Yoki, I find them watching me with an amused expression and a gentle smile. “Omar has become an attentive acolyte these past months,” they say, answering the questions I had only thought.
“Oh.” I didn’t realize Omar was so interested in the spiritual realm.
“After spending all that time with Agatha up north,” he says, carrying a tray of cups and a teapot to the circle, “I started to see the benefits of communicating with the spirits. Yoki has been training me since I arrived at the Sanc.”
He places the tray by our feet and pours tea into three ceramic cups before passing one to Yoki, then one to me.
“So you’ll be staying?” I ask.
“If you don’t mind,” he answers.
My cheeks are warm and I don’t think it’s from the hot tea. “I—I don’t mind.”
“Omar will be a steadying presence as we explore the great consciousness,” Yoki says, blowing gently then sipping their tea. They have this melodic way of speaking and this slight grin that makes them seem amused by everything, as if the ways of us earth dwellers are adorably novel to them.
For a moment we sip our tea quietly. Yoki and Omar seem content to sit in silence, but my mind is racing and I want to know what’s going to happen next.
“So uh, I was sort of hoping you might be able to help me figure out this whole blood-wolf thing…Omar says you’re amazing at all this wolf-energy spiritual stuff, and I really need some help to quiet down the noise in my head. You wouldn’t believe the headaches I’ve been having. It’s been majorly bad, like uberpainful, and I’ve been a mess, a complete zonker!”
Yoki waits patiently while I ramble, then finally looks up, smiles generously at me, and laughs ever so quietly.
“The lupine chorus is not a noise to silence but a blessing to embrace,” they say. “Like a river, you cannot fight it. You must let the current direct you and enjoy the flow.”
Are they going to speak in riddles the whole time?
“Uh, yeah, you’re right. Sorry. I know it’s not noise to block out, at least that’s what Omar told me. It’s just—”
Yoki raises a delicate hand to stop me from blathering any further.
“You have no need to be nervous,” they say. “I know why you have come.”
Unless Mal and the council sent a quick email or text, I don’t know how Yoki could know exactly why I’ve come, but I guess that’s just how in tune they are.
“So you can help me?” I ask.
Again they smile and laugh into their teacup. “You do not need my help. But I am happy to serve as your guide through the lunar planes.”
I take a breath and let my shoulders relax. “Phew, okay. Great. A guide. That would be—that’s perfect.”
Yoki places their cup down on the tray gently, then presses their palms together lightly. “You are unsure. Afraid that your path is not your own. Afraid to be lost among the multitude of voices that sing within the lupine chorus. But you need not be afraid. The path you tread can only be forged by the wolf within.”
Oy, again with the riddles.
“I would like, if I may, to begin with a ritual.” Yoki doesn’t move but Omar stands all of a sudden, as if he knows what they need without them asking.
“What sort of ritual?”
“It is one of calming and cleansing. It will help you to focus and open your mind.”
“Okay,” I say, as Omar moves to the wonky shelves, picks up a basket, places a wooden bowl in it, and begins picking bottles from the shelf.
Yoki moves onto their knees by the table and gestures at a spot on the floor. “I would ask you to lie flat on your back.”
Trying to be as not-awkward as possible, I maneuver myself onto the spot on the rugs Yoki suggested and lie back with a cushion under my head. Omar comes to kneel nearby and I shoot him a questioning glance. He nods subtly to reassure me and places the tray on the table. Immediately Yoki takes out the bowl, mixes some fragrant herbs with what appear to be spices, dried leaves, and seeds. They take up a blunt stirrer and mix the contents of the bowl, crushing them together before finally lighting the contents on fire. The bowl erupts with a purple flame that immediately goes out but leaves behind a bowl of smoking herbs and spices. Why do I feel like I’m about to experience the wildest contact high since that time a guy lit up on the L train?
“Close your eyes,” Yoki says, gently wafting the scented smoke from the bowl in my direction. I do as I’m told. “Inhale deeply. Let the smoke envelope you. Feel your rib cage expand as you breathe, feel your stomach muscles widening. Once you have taken in as much air as you can, hold that breath.”
My body expands as I breathe in, the smoke fills my nostrils, sweet and tangy and purely natural. As I hold my breath, it’s hard to explain, but it’s almost like I can feel the smoke moving through my cells, seeping into my veins and filling my body. My skin tingles, my fingers twitch, my muscles relax, and my limbs become heavy.
“Now release that breath and let the walls that protect your mind fall.”
I’m scared that this is going to hurt, scared that by letting in all the noise I’m going to be overwhelmed, damaged somehow, and yes…lost, like Yoki said. But I’m here to try and figure this out and I won’t be able to do that if I don’t give this a go, if I don’t put my trust in Yoki and Omar. As I let go of the breath I’ve been holding, I picture the walls around my mind falling outward.
Immediately my consciousness expands. I’m floating at the center of an infinitesimal void: weightless, buoyant, vibrating, eternal.
“Good,” Yoki says, as if they’re with me, as if they can feel the same thing I’m feeling. “You have left the physical world. And now you exist on the lunar plane. Just like the moon you are a reflection of the light that surrounds you. The noise you fear is not sound but light. Embrace light, search for it, and let it shine upon you.”
As they say this a speck of something glitters far, far off in the distance, then like the sun rising over the horizon, it grows, ethereal beams of yellow and gold spike out in all directions as the light grows bigger and hotter. For a moment I’m afraid, scared that it will burn or blind, but then like a wave the light passes over me. I inhale sharply as I embrace the warmth and the light.
It’s not unpleasant, but it’s intense, my muscles seize and my, my—everything disappears, evaporating and becoming nothing but light.
My eyes shoot open and I sit upright. The tent feels darker than before, the smells more intense and unpleasantly pungent. Everything is swirling around me, but even though I very well may topple over…I smile.
“What did you glimpse, Blood Wolf?”
“I saw it,” I say, breathless. “I saw us.”
THE LIGHT OF THE MOON
“You wouldn’t believe how good it felt,” I say, pacing, almost bouncing around Jasper and my tent.
Outside the night air is cool and the choir of insects is buzzing a soaring ballad.
“It was like a warm bath only it was all light, moonlight, and I didn’t have a body but it wasn’t scary—it was like being a tiny part of something so big and wonderful and if I can just learn how to tap into that intentionally who knows what I could…”
Jasper is sitting on the edge of our bed, a dumpy mattress on the canvas floor, not responding.
“Are you listening?”
He turns his head slowly, squinting at me, then shakes his head as if he’s waking himself up.
“I’m sorry. Tomas had me hammering poles into the ground all afternoon. I’m wiped.”
He runs a hand over his face and through his hair and I join him on the bed.
“Did you at least get to ask about your mother?”
“No. Tomas palmed me off onto one of his team then disappeared. I didn’t see him for the rest of the day.”
“That’s so strange. I’m sorry.” I rub his back and shoulders.
“I doubt he even knew my mother well enough to tell me anything about her.”
Jasper’s muscles are crazy tense.
“Maybe he got distracted or pulled away. I’m sure he’ll tell you about her at some point.”
“I’d be surprised. My best guess is tomorrow they have me drilling holes or erecting the tarp roof and by the time our two nights are up we’ll leave and Tomas won’t have shown his face again.”
“Two nights?” I ask, leaning back a little, my hand stilling on Jasper’s shoulder.
“Yes. That’s what we agreed.”
“I didn’t think we necessarily agreed on two nights exactly.”
“We said a couple of nights. That’s two. A couple is two, Max.”
“I know but I just thought…”
Jasper looks at me questioningly.
“How long do you think we’re staying here?”
“I thought it was more vague, sort of like depending on how things go with Yoki.”
“Max, we can’t stay here. The longer we’re here the less likely they’ll let us go.”
“We’re not their prisoners, they said as much.”
Jasper stands but doesn’t move from the side of the bed. He takes one large breath. “You heard what Omar said, right? About how they’re diverting their wolfpower to their border patrols. They’re scared, Max—of nearby packs, maybe, or…either way, while I’m here they have bartering power. They could use me as a hostage.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m sorry, I forgot you were so valuable.”
He turns and the anguish is clear on his face. “This isn’t an ego thing. We left our security back at the house. No one knows where we are. And like it or not I’m—we’re not inconsequential. We are high-ranking pack wolves and that makes us valuable to people like the rogues. We have to think about this sort of thing.”
I stand, too, and step to face Jasper, putting my hand on his forearm in the hopes it’ll calm him down.
“I know, okay? I know this isn’t comfortable for you and I know why you’re worried. But you’re also making assumptions about the rogues that I don’t think are true. They’re peaceful. They’ve welcomed us as guests, not hostages. They built this whole place just so they could get away from the packs, not so they could be in a war with them. They said we could leave whenever we wanted and I believe them.”
He lowers his head, making the bags under his eyes more pronounced.
“They may not start the war,” Jasper says, his voice catching. “But when war comes to them, believe me, they’ll behave just like any pack wolf.”
I take his face in my free hand and rub his cheek with my thumb. “You don’t know that.”
He leans into my touch and I rise onto my toes to kiss him. When I pull away he’s staring at me intently, familiar concern creasing his brow.
“You’re too trusting,” he says.
“And you’re tired. Why don’t we sleep and we talk more in the morning.”
“Fine.”
We don’t say anything else as we get ready for bed. Our belongings were left in the tent as promised, so I grab my toothbrush from my pack and head to the communal bathrooms a little distance from our tent. Once I’ve brushed my teeth and washed my face I head back. Along the way I stop and turn to look at the moon, almost full and shining silver. For a second I bask in the light, feeling a fraction of the warmth and connection I experienced earlier during Yoki’s ritual. I know I need to stay as long as it takes to figure out how to access my powers. I just don’t know how to convince Jasper the rogues are good people.
Back at the tent, I arrive to find Jasper already under the covers, lying on his side, staring at the wall.
I flip off the battery-powered lantern and slide in behind him, slipping an arm around his waist. He shuffles so that his back is pressed against my chest.
“We can stay,” he mumbles lowly. “For as long as you need.”
When I don’t say anything right away, he turns awkwardly, straining as he tries to look over his shoulder.
“You’re sure?” I ask, lifting onto my elbow to ease his twisting neck.
He rolls over so that we can look at each other properly.
“If it’s what you want,” he whispers. “Nothing else matters.”
“Thank you,” I whisper back. “I’m sure it’ll just take a few days. I promise it’ll be worth it.”
I kiss him quickly, trying to say thank you without words, and he returns the kiss but pulls away faster than I’d like.
“Good night,” he says, before rolling back over, so I can’t see his face any longer.
“Night.”
Sweat drips down the side of my face.
“Concentrate,” Yoki commands. “Find your center.”
I squeeze my eyes together even tighter than before, grit my teeth, and attempt to focus. A low, strained growl rolls in my throat.
“Don’t force it,” Yoki says, cool as a goddam cucumber. “You’re forcing it.”
I risk a sneak peek through one eye and find Yoki already smiling at me like they knew I was about to cheat.
“Take a breather,” they command, and I exhale, opening my eyes and letting the tension flood from my muscles.
“I don’t understand,” I say, frustration heating my cheeks. “It’s been two days and I’m nowhere nearer to finding that light again.”
Yoki tilts their head to the side, appraising me with gentle eyes. They’re sitting on a cushion opposite me in the open doorway at the back of their tent. The scent of palo santo wood and burning sage drift from the shaded interior. The desert sun is high in the sky. I wipe the sweat from my forehead.
“You are attempting to commune with all of wolfkind, it takes patience, discipline, and above all else, concentration.”
“But I was concentrating.”
“Max,” Omar says, chiding me for whining. I glance into the tent where he’s sitting at the central table, organizing herbs or making bouquets of dried flowers for some lucky wolf’s wedding, I don’t know. “It’ll happen. Just relax.”
Omar has been a comforting presence the last couple of days, but even his sturdy and lighthearted ways aren’t much help right now.
“That’s easy for you to say,” I huff. “I’ve been meditating and chanting and inhaling burnt herbs and I’ve barely stopped the headaches from attacking me every time I try to connect with the lupine chorus or whatever.”
“It’s only been two days. Take your time.”
“I don’t know how much time I have. Jasper is—he’s worried we’ve been away too long already. I don’t know how long I can stay, and I need to figure this out before I go.”
“Connection to the chorus cannot be rushed,” Yoki says with sudden urgency. “You have innate power, that is certain. But to wield it takes practice. You must learn to focus. If you are unable to control your abilities, to funnel the voices, the results could be disastrous.”
