Sephtis

29. Savage.

The warriors release me. Still singing their chants the village watches. Never before have I felt such fear, felt as trapped as I do now. Taaroko has flung back the wolf mask, baring his painted face. His eyes are wild, and them terrify me more then the mask did. He is exultant now, almost ecstatic: this is his true power, his true element, this allegiance he has with the spirits of the underworld. Allied with them, he has total control, total power. Not even the strongest of our kind would dare defy him now. I drink the from the cup. It is bitter, and I cannot identify what it is made from. I give the cup back to the priest.

In fear I wait. I once, while visiting another village saw a fellow slave-girl exorcised. She had fallen to the earth, jerking and choking, and her mouth had foamed, the white flecked with blood. Her wings had burst forth not long after, trembling and beating against the earth. Such terrible noises she had made, and they said that was the spirits leaving her. I do not wish to be like that in front of the village. I try to make my body calm, to keep it quiet, and under my control.

I wish they would stop chanting. My head is beginning to ache, my lips feel numb and I thirst. My outer limbs are tingling and the skin upon my shoulders is crawling, itching as my wings begin to rip free, white fire lacing up and down my spine. When I look up to ask Taaroko for water, I cannot see him. It is so dark, and the people seem so very far away. There is a voice in my ear, whispering of the wolves. But the words are awful, false truths about savagery and hate, and I do not want to hear them.

I am tired. So very tired, I need to lie down and cover my head until it hurts no more. But when I try to go back to the kings house, there is a great void in front of it, that I know deep inside that I cannot cross. When I look again, the void, and all the houses are gone. I am now in a forest, stone steps lay gleaming before me, but wolves surround me, they are not the wolves I know, not the wolves the steps promise to lead me to. They pace the dirt about me, snarling and baring their fangs. More and more appear, until there are so many I can no longer see the earth between them. They close in on me, their fangs dripping. They are evil, these wolves, their eyes full of hate. Their eyes are burning n my throat, blazing with the lust to kill. When I cover my face I still see them. They crouch, ready to attack. Fur brushes my arm, I scream. A wolf leaps.

I am not touched. I cower in the dirt, my arms over my head, screaming and sobbing, my wings half free, looking deformed and torn. At last I have the courage to look up. The village is watching me, and Taaroko swings his blessed incense while he murmurs prayers. He seems pleased, as if he approves of my reaction, of what ever it is I have done. The smoke of the incense becomes black crows flying about his head, their eyes leering at me, mocking me.

"Evil spirits of the wolf-woman depart!" he commands. "I send you to the forest depths, drive you to the rocks and stones, bind you to the wilderness place where you belong!"

He lowers his voice and speaks to me," you have seen the true faces of the wolves, remember their hatred, their venom, their destructiveness. Be grateful of the kindness of this clan, that has saved you from their clutches, and forgives you. The peace of the gods be with you."

Then he, and all of the people go back into Droug's house. I am left completely alone. Terror fills me. Shadows move all about me, and I can still hear the snarling of the wolves. I call for Eleutheros, over and over again till my voice is hoarse, my throat raw. But he does not come. No one comes.

Despair and loneliness overwhelms me, drowning me. I have nothing, no people, no fellow friend, no refuge anywhere. The wolves have torn to shreds any love I once had for them, my trust is broken. Even Kavah would terrify me now. I cannot bear it, I curl up in a ball and cry like a child.

I hear a sound, and lift my head, Something small and white comes my way out of the overwhelming darkness. As it draws close I see it is a lamb. He comes right up to me bleating, then slowly morphs from lamb to wolf pup. He fills me with love, this pup, because he is so beautiful, so pure. He glows whiter then the moon, and his eyes are brighter then the sun. Under his young gaze my fear is wiped out, my love and joy restored.

I think of Kavah's eyes, ablaze with empathy and understanding, and I long for his healing company. In my heart of hearts, I call for him, whispering his name through the dark. Peace floods me, and I bow to the earth. When I lift my head, the wolf pup is gone.

I rise and go to the kings house. I do not go inside, I do not think I will ever enter any of these houses ever again. But the people are singing, and I stand near the wall, close to a window to listen. They sing a farewell lament, a funeral song meant for Droug. I sing it too, but not just for him alone. I sing for my mother, Droug's past wife, and I sing for the village. I sing above all for Eleutheros, and a desire to see him one more time.

I feel a presence behind me, and in sudden hope I turn around.

The sickle moon I see, high above the forest. The ground is smooth and empty to the gateway and the moat, where my canoe awaits. And beyond the black water, their eyes shining in the shadows, shining for me, stands Kavah, and Amitz.