Servant of the Moon #1 - unedited draft
always watching

When Nyall arrived home, Mamó had already packed up their few belongings. Moire and Ainsley were sleeping peacefully. Mamó had run her hands over the ebony runes and vines the Moon had painted on his skin. She hugged him fiercely with tears running down her wrinkled face. He didn’t know why she had cried, whether they were tears of pride or joy or sorrow, or all of the above because he felt all those things from her. He thought about it as he loaded the old truck they had salvaged from one of the dead wolves’ homes.

As he drove, he asked her about the strange soft voice that helped him. "Does tha Moon always help those She calls ta follow 'er?"

She had only grinned and answered enigmatically, “The Moon always ‘as someone watchin’, sometimes thay hear ye, an’ sometimes ye hear ’em. Tell me m’ogha (my grandson) what did ye smell when ye ’eard tha voice.”

Nyall frowned, he had smelled snow, like the freshest, purest snow that fell in the deepest part of winter, almost like his mother’s scent. A fragrance he would have barely remembered except that he would replace his father standing outside in the middle of many a mid-winter night after a snowfall, inhaling deeply. When he asked about it once, he father had said it was the only time he could smell her scent.

“Et smelt like mo mother. Like tha freshest, purest snow.”

Mamó only smiled. “Nay, et was nah her. But et seem like ye ‘ave an angel watchin’ o’er ye. Pay heed ta tha road, when weh get thar, weh'll be safe.”

Less than hour later, he carried first Moire, then Ainsley into the house. Neither had woken, he wondered what Mamó had given them to make them sleep so heavily, but he didn’t ask. It took longer to unload and get the wood fueled heater stoked than the drive. He was surprised that in spite of the unused state of the house, it was in mostly in good repair and well stocked. In the barn, as he gathered another armload of the corded wood, he could have sworn he faintly scented his father and brothers. He stopped between the barn and the house, looking up at the Moon. His tattooed skin tingled as She rose overhead. The snow had stopped and the clouds had fled, the deep blue sky filled with stars was unmarred. The Moon had protected them, prepared them a place to shelter, and brought them safely into another season.

Comhnyall vowed he would gladly serve her in payment. "Thank ye, Goddess, fur meh family’s sanctuary,” his breath making frosted clouds in the air and he shuddered as he felt a soft caress over his marks. She did listen.

Everyday before dawn, Comhnyall’s wolf left the farmhouse after Mamó doused him the scent blocking potion. After two weeks, the Betas and two warriors gave up and left. But not before they had driven to and walked around every place a Wemyss wolf had ever lived. Tired and frustrated to discover what Nyall had know since a month after the attack. There were no longer any wolves on the Peninsula. They asked around Wolfville after the girl who worked as a maid, but no one would tell them, finally the apothecary admitted she had a beau who worked at the docks to the east and they were planning to leave for the old country with her grandmother. The human had assumed they had already left.

When they asked around the docks about a blonde youth with tattoos, no one had ever seen or heard of him. But as wolves they knew, every human they asked lied to them. When they finally found someone to answer the question, they got the same answer. The young longshoreman was planning on taking his girl and her grandmother back home to the old country. With the humans turning hostile and suspicious toward them, the wolves had no choice but to give up.

Wherever the two young wolves had gone, it was away from here. Nyall was glad that his human friends had stood up for them, glad to see the wolves go, but he was also a little sad that the presence that had helped him that first day had not returned. They would have to delay their trip to Old Wemyss, their enemy would be watching for them to be traveling and he would not be able to return to the well paying job he had held on the docks.

The four survivors of New Wemyss settled into their new home quickly, the old farmstead had neither power nor running water, but wasn’t in poor repair. Moire and Nyall had worked tirelessly to improve it. Shamus has sold his cot and moved from Weymouth to the much closer Harbourville. Together, the old seadog and the young warrior, did all they could while waiting for the late ice floes to stop dropping bergs so they could fish again. Spring came late that year.

Snow was blowing against the windows, the weather on the thin strip of land was more volatile than further inland. The wind made the trees groan in a haunting way but the old house stood firmly in the tempest. Moire had sealed the windows so they no longer leaked air and Nyall had moved cords of wood from the barn to the basement. There was nothing more to do but wait for the storm to pass. They were studying the books Mamó had given them.

Ainsley sat beside Nyall as he translated a book on the history the oracles with her.

Moire slid a book across the table frustrated, “I can nah read et, et es jus’ nonsense. Boiling flowers with twice cooked fat in a copper cauldron!”

Nyall lifted the book, reading it before handing it to Ainsley, whose quick eyes devoured the text. Moire narrowed her eyes at them, “Wha’ does et say? To add Eye of newt an’ ’eart of boar?”

Nyall chuckled, “Nay, et es ah lavender an’ chamomile soap recipe. Tha one ye make all tha time.”

Moire sat back and crossed her arms, grumbling, “Tha’ does nah mean et does nah have eye of newt en et. Ye know Mamó es a witch. Why can she nah just give meh tha book weth tha recipes as meh mother wrote ’em?”

Nyall laughed and pulled her from her chair into his lap. “What ’as ye so cross, mo ciele(my mate)?”

“How can ye read et so easily? Tha letters jus’ look like Ainsley’s doodles and broken sticks.” Moire complained.

“Meh mother taught meh tha ol’ runes when I was a pup, I knew ’em ‘fore she went ta tha moon an’ meh father ne’er wrote en anythin’ else.”

He drew a deep breath thinking about the time when his mother and older sister had been murdered and how his father had gone mad. One day his father was just gone and a year later he was back, thinner, more scarred, broken. Nyall knew he would face the same fate if anything happened to Moire. Only there would be no one, no pack, no children, no friends to bring him home to. His father never spoke of that time, and Liam would only say, Lyall’s wolf had gone on the warpath to avenge his Fiona. Nyall buried his face in Moire’s hair, inhaling her scent deeply to calm his wolf. He couldn’t lose her, he wouldn’t lose her. The Moon had promised to protect her.

“I be sorry, Cohmnyall. I know ye miss ’er.” Moire’s voice was soft as her fingers ran through his hair, comforting his heart.

“I do, but I can nah even remember ’er face, or ’er voice. Only ’er scent. Tha purest snow from tha coldest part of winter. Sometimes I think she whispers ta meh, helps meh. Mamó says et nah be ’er,but she was tha only wolf I ‘ave ever known ta carry tha’ scent.” Nyall frowns remembering the voice that help him the day he had followed the Betas around. “Moire, do ye think tha dead speak ta tha living? Shamus says he still talks ta Rowena at night an’...” He trailed off because she was looking at him like he was insane.

“I think ye may be spendin’ too much time with tha crazy ol’ dog, who has drank too much salt from tha sea,” Moire giggled, “Tha’ dead aire happy in tha fields of tha Moon an’ have no more ta worry about, thay just be waitin’ fur thar kin.”

Nyall shrugged and looked across the table at Ainsley, who was watching them intently. He asked, “Wha’ do ye think, beag shionnach (little fox)? Do ye think our mothers still talk ta us or es et jus’ wishfulness?”

Ainsley tipped her head, blinking her larger burnt gold eyes. She pointed at Moire and shook her head no. She pointed a Nyall and shook her head no. She pointed at her heart and nodded yes, then she opened her notebook to an image of many people standing in the Fields of the Moon, a place both Nyall and Moire had seen. She put her right index finger on the people, with her left she tapped her eyes and put her left hand to her ear. They just stared at her, Ainsley can see and hear those gone to the Moon.

Ainsley’s wolf sat outside on the hill over the house, the wind blew cold around her but she didn’t feel it. She only felt the pull of the rising moon. Watching and waiting, it seemed to take forever before it finally cleared the sea.

Her little red wolf yipped with joy and sprang forth, running across the moonlit waters toward the isle of green. The moment her paws touched the grass, she tumbled into her skin and ran into her mother and father’s arms. Together they rocked her gently and she sang with her mother as she twisted curls in her father’s fiery beard. Her twin brother brought her a handful of flowers then they played chase through the tall grass. She felt the tug of the world and knew her sister’s mate was carrying her home. She ran to hug her parents before falling back into the world. But this time when those around her vanished and the lady in white stood before her.

“Hello little fox, how are you tonight?”

“Oh, I be wonderful, we have a new house, a real house, and I get my own room. And from the hill, I can see the moon move across the whole sky. Nyall is teaching me the old runes and Mamó is teaching me to be an oracle and healer like her. And brother told me a new joke today. Why did the chicken cross the road?”

The Goddess smiled at her beautiful, childish voice and the riddle of ages, “Do tell, little one, why did the chicken cross the road?”

Ainsley smiled beautifully and giggled, “To be eaten by the wolf on the other side.”

The Goddess laughed, and it sounded like music, then she sighed. “Oh my precious daughter, how I treasure you, but I am afraid that it is time for you to start living for the world below. You have a great destiny, and you can not live it here.”

Ainsley stared at Her, wide-eyed and chin trembling, “But I don’t want to live there. I want to live here, mama and papa and brothers are here, and soon sissy will be here. How will I talk to them if I don’t come here? How will I sing?”

“My child, I will make it so you can still talk to them, but you won’t be able to visit them as often as you do now, only call to them across the Tides as some oracles can. I am sorry, but the tenderness of my heart for you, little fox, has made me give you a boon that is no longer a blessing, for it takes you from the world of the living.”

Her silver-white eyes are so full of love and compassion that Ainsley wanted to cry, but instead she whispered, “I understand.”

The Goddess smiled, “I knew you would, grow strong, be brave. Your sister’s season is coming to its autumn. You will need to be there to love her mate when he can no longer feel love, and help open the door of his heart to another when the time comes. He does not understand what his promise to Me means.”

Ainsley felt her tears spill as she thought about her sister’s death. “She will not suffer, will she?”

The Goddess sighed, “She will feel the pain of leaving a world she lingered too long in, but I promise in her last moment she will feel nothing but love.” She pressed a kissed into her forehead, “Don’t worry, I will be watching. Sweet dreams, Ainsley. I love you.”

“I love you, Moon,” the child murmured as she fell asleep.

Nyall watched as fur becomes skin, a tiny red wolf, no bigger than a fox turning into a tiny redheaded girl. He put one of his tee-shirts over his little sister’s head and tucked her under a quilt. Moire came in to kiss her. Smiling as they hold each other, they look down on her with love, both believing that this is how it will be when they have pups of their own. They watched her lips moving, but the only thing they could make out are the last whispered words before she rolled over, “I love you, Moon.”

Del walked purposefully into the Eye of the Goddess Temple, she had not been here for almost 9 months. Louis, Luca’s twin rushed toward her and hugged her for a little longer than she was comfortable with.

“Quit groping my sister, Louie,” Essie snarled at him.

He glared at her, “What is your problem, Esther?”

Essie looked like she was about to throw on her fur and go at him, “Do you want the Skinamax version or just the last word you said to me the last time we fu...”

“Enough!” Eliazar growls. “You two are no longer in a relationship, we know this and do not want the details. You need to work together. This is why relationships between servants are frowned upon. Esther, you are a Wanderer, you report to me. Louis, you are the new petitions coordinator, you report to the Delphi. You will not have contact with each other beyond your duties, am I clear?”

“Yes, Elder, “Louis answered but Esther just continued to give him the evil eye.

“Good now that this is settled, we have four months worth of petitions that the other oracles were not able to see. If you are feel recovered, Delphi?” Eliazar asked. Delilah nodded. “Then we have a meeting.”

In her grandfather’s office sat two wolves in suits, looking more like human lawyers than anything. They bowed respectfully to her and her grandfather.

“Delphi, the son of the Alpha of Des Rues has requested a meeting to reinstate access to the oracles and the temples after an 18 year ban unfairly imposed by your great-grandmother and grandfather after your mother’s death. We respectfully submit that the unfortunate fire was not as a result of the actions of his late grandfather, but an accident. Our future Alpha wished to apologize to you personally for the tragedy. ” The older one explained.

The younger one added, “The Des Rues are willing to offer the survivors reparation. Our future Alpha wishes to make amends with the temples and the Benjmin-Naphtal survivors, if any can be found after that terrible storm that destroyed their lands and killed so many.”

Delilah could taste the deceit on his words, but she smiled at him coolly and gave him a single word answer,“No.”

“But Delphi, be reasonable, the temples and oracles are to be used for all wolves and...”

Delilah held up her hand. “Do not dictate to me what the Moon’s temples are to be used for. You have your own oracles, use them. The Temples are off limits until that generation passes to the Moon for judgement.”

The older wolf puffed himself up, “You can not know if that generation is passed or not. It is unfair to punish the entire pack.”

“Is Alpha Charles still living with my Uncle Isaac’s marks scaring his neck? How about Beta Lothaire who held my great-grandmother by the throat until her last heartbeat the night of the storm when the Des Rues warriors murdered all they found? Did they not tell you that I was there that night and saw the mark of the Des Rues upon those who killed my pack and robbed my sister of her gift? What kind of a pack murders shewolves and pups TWICE then begs the Moon for a boon? TELL ME!” Her voice is as hard and icy as her eyes, the power of her rage and the Moon radiating from her in waves.

The younger wolf cowered in his chair, while the older one struggled to keep his head up.

“Get out of my temple, dogs. And don’t come back until those murderers have been dragged away by Her Hounds. If your future Alpha wants a vision, have him ask his birth-mother. If she can’t see then tell your alphas this, the Moon knows whom they have killed, and the blood of many innocents awaits their punishment. They will die by the burning claws of their own making, and the Moon’s hounds will be waiting for them.”

Delilah turned and stormed out in a swirl of white silk. Just outside the door, Essie was eavesdropping and scowling, she followed her sister back up the steps toward the Oracle’s wing, muttering curses under her breath.

The older one patted his forehead with a handkerchief, giving a nervous chuckle, “My, my. Oracles are certainly high strung females. So Elder, about the reparations.”

Eliazar almost rolled his eyes. “The Delphi has decided against your request, no amount of bribery or sniveling will change her mind or mine. She has ordered you out of the temple and I suggest you go before she calls the hounds to drag you away themselves.”

“She... she can’t do th-that, can she?” the younger one stammered.

Eliazar leveled him with a deadly look, “The Moon is always watching. Always listening.”