Chapter Thirty-Three – The Light of a World
It was as odd as it could get to eat using nothing but his mouth, but it was what it was. Jack did his best to eat politely, but his muzzle, fangs and tongue had minds of their own, so the moment food was placed before him – served on a wide plate and at the table – he began chewing loudly and making sounds of satisfaction at the taste of the tender meat hitting his palate. Tharion observed him with kind amusement while he drank from a large golden cup. In a separate bowl, the same sweet wine was served to Jack, as well.
And to Vince, who was somehow managing not to sound like a wild mutt devouring his food. Jack had worried for a moment that they'd have to eat raw meat, but his worries were quickly put to rest. Apparently, the Whiteflame pack was also known for exquisite cooking. Jack had experienced a few different flavors, delicate and most likely lent to the meat by spicy herbs, but he was too much of an ignorant – and an eater on a budget – to be able to name them.
"Thank you for your hospitality," Vince said, licking his muzzle and sitting back on his haunches in the high chair that, miraculously, was supporting his weight. As a wolf, Vince was as big as when he was a human.
Jack's chewing slowed, waiting for Tharion's questions. His eyes darted between their host and his companion, wondering if Vince had had enough time to come up with a reasonable lie for their sudden appearance, here, in the past.
"A blizzard separated us from our brethren," Vince started. "We have wandered for a long time to arrive here. It is the first time we are hearing of your pack. Or maybe our minds have been tricked out of our memories."
At Vince's last words, Tharion frowned. "The spirits are restless. Do you recall the name of your pack?"
Vince shook his head slowly. Jack understood why lying was necessary, given their current circumstances, but he still felt bad they had to do that to Theo's dad.
"I see. You arrived at a fortuitous moment. We are getting ready for our annual Embercasting."
"Embercasting? What's that?" Jack asked, forgetting that it would be better for him to keep his mouth shut.
"It is our ritual of protection against evil spirits. More than that, it is how we keep them from crossing the border between their world and others', not just ours. We are guardians here." Tharion examined Vince again with keen eyes. "Your fur reminds me of where our ancestors lived before coming here. Perhaps, you are related to an old pack."
"What about mine?" Jack asked. He looked down at himself and considered giving his beautiful white coat a little lick.
Tharion moved his eyes from Vince to his other guest. "You appear to belong with us. But I know every member of our pack, and no one lost a pup lately. I would have known if you had been led astray from us."
"I'm not exactly a pup. I am over twenty, despite my otherwise puny appearance," Jack said, puffing out his chest to look bigger.
Tharion laughed good-naturedly. "I am an old man. I suppose everyone younger than me seems like a pup. What do you recall of what happened to you to leave you lost, Jack?"
Great, he was now inviting questions because he hadn't managed to keep his mouth shut.
"Well," he started, "I don't recall my parents, that's for sure. I don't think I had them, ever."
Tharion became serious. And a little sad. "And did Vince take you under his protection?"
"I guess you can say that."
Tharion nodded slowly. He caressed his long white beard slowly. "My wife and I had Theodore late in life. He is the light of our world. You said you heard of him. Seeing how you are strangers to these lands, may I ask you how that happened? If you remember, of course."
Jack hesitated. He was itching to say something that was close to the truth, without being the whole truth. But when he opened his mouth, he realized it was impossible for him to get a word out.
Right, they were visiting the past, and there had to be rules, such as not saying wacky things about twenty-first century Glasstone, and stuff like online entertainment and television. But Ryder's pack knew of such things. And they weren't in a past that was that far away, were they?
"Have you ever heard of television?"
Tharion stared at him, blinking a few times. "Television? It is a quaint word. I haven't heard it before."
"Never mind," Jack said quickly, stealing a glance at Vince, whose eyes had grown quite wide for being a wolf and all.
Just how far into the past had they been trapped?
***
He must have fallen asleep. Theodore brushed off the snow that had piled on top of him and looked around. Today was the Embercasting, and he wanted to be the one to light its fire. He'd have to convince his father that he was old enough to do it. If he couldn't prove that he was fearless, when would the occasion present itself again? Only when he was one year older, and he didn't want to wait that long.
He pushed himself up. Strangely enough, he had fallen asleep away from his home, under the large fir trees that guarded the entrance to the Black Forest stretching between them and the veil separating his pack's lands from the rest of the world. Since he'd grown a little, he wanted to explore his surroundings and get to know them like the back of his hand. His parents didn't oppose the idea, but Theodore couldn't recall having slept outside for an entire night before.
And he'd had the strangest dreams, of how he'd stolen the flint for lighting the Embercasting pyre from his father and a creature made of mist, cold, and darkness had offered its help so he could prove himself as the next alpha of Whiteflame.
Absentmindedly, Theodore put one hand inside the pocket of his coat. His fingers stilled as they encountered the rough edges of the Embercasting flint. His entire body froze. What day was it? He had the distinct memory of the evening before, when he wanted to light the pyre using the flint and get everyone to enjoy the happy flames of their annual ritual.
But what had happened? He couldn't remember. Had he intended to do that and fallen asleep? He'd been inside the circle, ready to make fire, and now, he was here, far from his home, which he could spot in the distance, among the other houses where the Whiteflame pack members lived.
Oh, no. He had ruined the Embercasting. Not only had he stolen the flint from his father, but he had failed to light the fire. The spirits would feel it. They would gather around their settlement, ready for battle.
Or worse. They might run amok through the forest behind him, ready to pierce the veil and bleed into the world like a disease.
Slowly, Theodore turned, taking in the tall, menacing trees rising behind him. He'd never found the Black Forest threatening before. Yet now, they towered over him, their dark-green needles slowly turning black like under the influence of a bad spell.
No, he was just being childish. The forest was the same as always, just as he knew it, and the trees were just trees. There were no evil spirits lurking behind them, waiting to strike. Still, his steps hurried along the path taking him back to the settlement.
A strange scent tickled his nostrils, bringing with it the beginning of a sneeze. Theodore hid his face in the crook of his elbow, but the sneeze never came. When he looked up again, he saw the apparition from before blocking his path.
The wisdom tree. How did he know about such a thing? That was no tree. It did have branches, charred and gnarled, serving it as arms; yet there were no leaves to speak of, and no crown.
"You tried to trick me," he accused openly. "Last night. I failed my pack and the Embercasting." Since the creature of his dreams was standing right in front of him, those hadn't been dreams.
"Something intervened. The Embercasting has yet to pass. You are not too late, alpha of Whiteflame," the creature spoke in a low, raspy voice that came from somewhere inside its tattered hood. Theodore could see no face, no matter how much he tried to catch a glimpse of it.
"What intervened?" Theodore asked with a frown.
The creature floated closer. Its gnarled hand reached his shoulder and caught it in a vise-like grip. "Strangers to these lands. You must chase them away. They are here to destroy the Embercasting."
"Are they evil spirits?" His father often spoke of them, but Theodore had never seen one with his own eyes. At times, he wished ardently that he could fight such a spirit and prove himself once and for all in front of the pack. He heard what everyone said: his father was old, too old, and he'd have to name a successor other than his own son. That was why Theodore needed to grow up fast.
"Indeed they are. Don't let them fool you with their appearance. They will pretend to be your friends."
"I will crush them," Theodore said. "Out of my way."
He was strong for his age, and fast. This was his chance to prove himself in front of the pack. And he'd return the flint to his father. Let him be the one to bestow the honor upon his son's head. Once his father saw he was capable of ridding the pack's lands of such threats, he would hand the flint to Theodore himself.
"Do not give the flint back to your father. You must prove yourself, alpha," the creature said.
It was the wisdom tree, after all. That meant that its words were as strong as a prophecy, one Theodore intended to fulfill.
***
"Television, really?" Vince whispered at Jack after Tharion left them alone to attend to his duties involving the ritual he'd told them about earlier.
"I have a bad feeling, Vee," Jack whispered back. "And weird or not, my television question proves something."
"What, exactly?"
"Hear me out." Jack placed his front paws one on top of the other, looking too cute to be mad at. "Ryder's pack wasn't so ignorant of all things modern, right? I mean, Ryder even had a phone."
Vince frowned and considered Jack's words. "That's true," he murmured. "Go on."
"So how come Whiteflame, I mean their alpha, doesn't know about something like that? I mean, television has been around for like a century or something."
"Right," Vince agreed again.
"And Theodore is… how old? Thirty-something, right?"
"Yes. Only that--" Vince started.
"That makes no sense," Jack concluded hurriedly. "I mean, we could ask what year it is, but it wouldn't help us much. Maybe they keep a different calendar around here. Though I hope Theo is no older than, let's say, three hundred years. I mean, I can handle a little age gap, but nothing too extreme like a millennium or something. I need to have some limits, right?"
"You're strangers!" a young voice boomed as the entrance door slammed open, hitting the wall hard, and giving Vince and Jack the unimpeded sight of a child of about ten, dressed in a beautiful blue coat with fur lining that went as low as his feet, dressed in a pair of what looked like warm fur boots. "And now you must die!" the little one announced.
"Duck," Vince ordered, as a sharp knife cut through the air, missing his pointy ear by a hair's breadth.
"Oh, boy," Jack cried out, sliding quickly under the table. "Who's the little Tasmanian devil?"
"Who do you think?" Vince shouted back.
Blue eyes filled with thunder, thick blond hair, and a bad attitude. If Jack didn't recognize him—
"Theo? Our sweet little Theo?"
"When the hell has he ever been sweet?" Vince bellowed. The brat went after his knife, which he easily plucked from the wooden wall where it had gotten stuck, and now was rushing after them under the table.
"But he's like… ten!" Jack complained but rushed out through the open door and into the snow.
"Yeah. Too bad he's not a millennium old already, right?" Vince shouted, hurrying Jack from behind, through the deep snow and toward the back of the long house, in hopes of losing their pursuer.
No chance of that. Shouting war cries, Theodore hurried after them, promising to give them pain for daring to show their faces at Whiteflame's settlement.
"Why do you think he doesn't shift into his little wolf?" Jack shouted over the ruckus while they dashed through the thick snow.
"Because he obviously knows he'd be no match for us, two grownups," Vince shouted back. He worried a bit about young Theodore's ability to handle a knife. Even at ten, and in human shape, he was fast and strong, and it astonished Vince to realize that the small human was actually gaining on them. The deep snow was no obstacle for Theodore, while both he and Jack were now struggling to move, let alone run from the danger that the tiny alpha-to-be of Whiteflame posed now for their hides.
Jack yelped and fell with his muzzle forward, burying himself half-way in the snow.
"I got you!" Theodore yelled victoriously, as he danced over the drifts of snow with the grace of a winter spirit.
Jack made muffled sounds as Theodore landed on his back and raised his knife. Vince turned and growled. He had left Jack a few steps behind, and now those steps mattered. All he could do was scare the heck out of a ten-year-old by pretending to be the big bad wolf.
His ruse worked because Theodore stopped with his arm raised high.
"Run! Save yourself!" Jack cried out. "Vee, you must live to avenge me!"
"Put that knife down, boy,' Vince growled, moving slowly toward his target. Theodore was staring at him with eyes full of fury. But he was also hesitating. He must have hunted before, but attacking another wolf had to be a different thing, even for him.
"Only if you yield," Theodore said in his young voice. "You two are strangers and bad omens. Spirits!"
"I assure you," Jack babbled, "there's nothing spiritual about us. Actually, we are just two laymen about town."
Vince was glad he wasn't in his human shape right now because Jack's convoluted logic was bound to make him burst into laughter. The tense moments they were living through right now surely didn't warrant such a reaction.
"What pack do you belong to? How can you dare to pretend to have a white coat when your heart is black?" Apparently, most of Theodore's fury was directed at Jack, although he was still stealing glances at Vince, who took advantage of Jack's outstanding skills of distracting the enemy, to move closer.
"My heart isn't black," Jack snapped back. "I'll have you know it's… pink! Yes, very pink. Like a unicorn's."
"What's a unicorn?" young Theodore asked, his curiosity stronger than his warrior instincts. He obviously couldn't tell he was being played.
"What kind of magical lands are these?" Jack continued. Theodore held him by the scruff of his neck, so he needed to come out for breath after his muzzle was pushed into the tall, fluffy snow. "Vee, can you believe it? Theo has never heard of unicorns."
"Who are you calling Theo?" Theodore bellowed, seized by righteous fury again.
At this point, Vince knew Theodore wouldn't hurt Jack, only that since he was in this situation, he didn't know what to do other than lash out.
Their quarrel was in full swing when a strong hand lifted Theodore into the air.
"Theodore," his sire's stern voice could be heard, "is that truly the way to treat guests? We've taught you better than this!"
Under Vince's incredulous eyes, the little Tasmanian devil turned into a little lamb. He quickly pushed his hand with the knife behind his back and hid it, while his chin dropped to his chest.
"Apologies, father. I was warned of strangers with ill intent having come to our home."
"They are only two lost wolves," Tharion said, taking the knife away from Theodore in a single move, and then hiking his son on his arm and holding him with unconcealed affection. "Have you had nightmares again?"
"Father," Theodore squeaked, "I don't have nightmares!"
"It's okay if you do," Jack intervened, happy to emerge from the snow now that he wasn't directly threatened anymore. "I used to have nightmares all the time."
"What about?" Theodore asked, forgetting that only moments earlier, Jack had been the enemy for some still to be elucidated reason.
"Let's go back to the house," Tharion suggested. "And Theodore will apologize properly. The Embercasting will start soon."
Vince observed young Theodore with keen eyes. There was something furtive and guilty in his manner, appearing the moment the alpha of Whiteflame had mentioned the ritual.
TBC