Wolf Who Rules

Chapter 3: Nuts And Bolts

Wolf spotted Wraith at the fringe of the Ghostlands when he flew back to Turtle Creek. He’d left his domi in the care of his household at Poppymeadow’s enclave and returned to help deal with the beast that attacked her. He dropped down to land beside his First.

“I don’t know what Storm Horse was thinking.” Wraith growled in greeting. “How did he end up with all the babies?”

Little Horse had chosen the five youngest sekasha to make up the Hand that accompanied Tinker into Turtle Creek; not one of them was over two hundred. True, any death would have been grievous, but to lose the five youngest would have been a blow to the close-knit band of warriors.

“They are the ones my domi is most comfortable with.” Wolf knew that Wraith was truly rattled if he was using the nickname, as some of the “babies” were in truth older than Wolf. His First Hand didn’t like to remind him that he was impossibly young for his level of responsibilities.

“Oni, they could have handled,” Wraith allowed and then handed a sheet of paper to Wolf. “But not an oni dragon. I’m amazed any of them are still alive.”

Wolf recognized Rainlily’s fluid hand in the drawing. The low slung creature looked like a cross between a ferret and a snake. “An oni dragon? Are you sure?”

Wraith clicked his tongue. “It’s much smaller than the one we fought when we closed the gate between Earth and Onihida, and the coloring is different. It might be just a less dangerous cousin, like we have the wyvern cousins to our dragons, or perhaps a hatchling. It would explain how they survived.”

The battle had been shortly before Wolf was born. A Stone Clan trading expedition had discovered the way from Earth to Onihida by accident. When the survivors managed to return to Elfhome with their tale of capture and torture, the clans united to send a force to Earth to stop the oni spreading from Onihida to Earth, and then, possibly to Elfhome. Wraith Arrow and others of Wolf’s First Hand had been part of the oni war.

“Are oni dragons that dangerous?” Wolf folded the paper and tucked it away. He would have to let the Earth Interdimensional Agency know of this new threat if they couldn’t kill the beast quickly. The EIA could best spread warnings through the humans.

“We lost two dozen sekaska in the caves to the beast. We couldn’t hurt it. It could—” Wraith frowned as he searched for a word. “— sidestep through walls as if they didn’t exist, and it called magic like you do.”

“How did you kill it?”

“When the Stone Clan pulled down the gate and the connection between the worlds broke, its attack pattern totally changed. It dropped its shield and became like a mink in a chicken coop, stupid with bloodlust. We boxed it in so it couldn’t turn and we hacked it to pieces.”

“Maybe the oni was controlling it magically. Little Horse said that the tengu used a whistle to call it off them — perhaps the sound only triggered a controlling spell. Earth doesn’t have magic.”

“So their control over it vanished and we were fighting the true beast?”

Wolf nodded. “Perhaps.”

“So the key is to kill the controller first.”

“Perhaps.” Wolf didn’t want to fall into a wrong mindset. He crouched beside the torn earth and spilt blood to find the monster’s tracks. They were as long as his forearm, with five claw marks splayed like a hand. Pressed into the dirt at the center of one track was one of Tinker’s omnipresent bolts, a bright point of polished aluminum glittering in the black earth. It must have fallen from her pocket during the fight. Wolf picked it out of the dirt, realizing for the first time the size of his beloved compared to what attacked her. Gods above, sometimes he wished her sense of self preservation matched her courage; she couldn’t keep leaping into the void and swimming back. One of these times, the void was going to drink her down. He rolled the bolt around his palm to shake off the dirt, thinking he should talk to her about being more careful, only he didn’t want to fall into the trap of becoming her teacher.

Wraith crouched beside Wolf, and stirred his fingers through the dirt. “Domi showed great courage in protecting Little Horse. She needs, though, someone who can steer her away from the dangers. Little Horse is lost at summer court.”

From Wraith’s tone, the sekasha also thought that Windwolf was too deep in the first throes of love to think clearly. Perhaps he was. “Are you volunteering?”

Wraith tilted his head. “Do you want me to?”

Wolf considered, tumbling the bolt through fingers. Wraith was not the first to come forward in the last two days and let him know that they’d be willing to change allegiance to Tinker. He’d given them all permission to advance their case to Tinker since she needed at least four more sekasha to make a Hand. Wraith, though, was his First, and Wolf depended heavily on him. Without Sparrow, losing Wraith would cripple Wolf. “No. I need you. Others plan to offer, she will have plenty to choose from.”

“Yes, but will they guide her?”

Do I want her guided? That was the true question. He’d benefited greatly by choosing sekasha who had served his grandfather, but they had brought subtle pressure to bear on him at all times. This conversation itself was a perfect example of their influence on him. Their persuasion extended out to the rest of the household, reinforcing the caste differences so that Wolf was always correctly above everyone. When the Queen summoned Wolf to Aum Renau, he’d left Little Horse behind to guard over Tinker. The youngest of the sekasha, his blade brother had also been raised in a household where the caste lines had been allowed to blur. Little Horse would be the open minded, affectionate, and least likely to try and change Tinker. Wolf had hated the necessity to make her elf in body — he didn’t want to force her, even by subtle persuasion, to become elf in mind and habit.

No, I do not want her guided in the way that Wraith would.

He would speak with Tinker, but not point her toward the older sekasha. He would allow her and Little Horse to find those they were most comfortable with.

“On this, I will act.” He let Wraith know that the conversation was closed, that he would not discuss it farther. He turned his attention back to the oni dragon.

The main fight area was a chaos of torn earth and blood. The sekasha might be able to read the course of events, but to him it was only churned earth. The bark of surrounding trees was gouged in the dragon’s five clawed pattern.

“It had domi pinned. Little Horse attempted to penetrate its shield.” Wraith pointed at a spot on the ground, and at the nearest scored tree. “It leapt to that tree. Rainlily said that the tengu was on the bridge, so that tree there —” Wraith pointed to a distant tree with claw marks half way up the towering trunk, “is the next set.”

The leap meant the creature was stunningly powerful without magic.

“Let’s see where the trail leads.”

The railing of the bridge was scored deep by the dragon’s claws. After that, however, the track became impossible to follow by the naked eye. The sekasha considered the bridge deck, scuffing it with their boots.

“Too much metal,” Wraith voiced the sekasha’s collective opinion.

Wolf nodded, he thought as much. Using magic to track was rarely possible in Pittsburgh with its ominous web of metal in the roads, the buildings, and the power lines overhead.

There was whistle from the rear guard, indicating the arrival of a friendly force. Still, the sekasha around him went alert when a limo belonging to the EIA pulled to a stop at the far end of the bridge. The oni had infiltrated every level of the U.N. police force; they could no longer automatically assume the EIA was friendly.

With a cautiousness that made it clear that he understood his position, Director Derek Maynard got out of his limo and walked the rest of the distance to Wolf. Apparently Maynard had spent the morning dealing with humans, as he was in dressed in the dark solid suit that spoke of power among men. Wolf thought it might be the way they perceived color.

“Wolf Who Rules ze Domou.” Over the years, Maynard had picked up much of the elfin body language. He projected politely constrained anger as he bowed elegantly.

“Director.” Wolf used his title without his name to mildly rebuke him.

Maynard bowed his head slightly, acknowledging the censure. He paused for a minute, nostrils flared, before speaking. He looked worn and tired. Time wore Maynard down at an alarming rate; in twenty short years he had gone from a young man to middle age. Gazing at him, Wolf realized that in a few decades he’d lose his friend.

If I could have only made him an elf too. But no, that would have destroyed Maynard’s value as a “human” representative.

“Windwolf,” Maynard chose to continue in English, probably because it placed him in the less subservient role. “I wish you would have warned me about declaring the treaty void.”

Wolf sighed — it was going to be one of those conversations. “You know the terms. Pittsburgh could exist as a separate entity only while it continued to return to Earth.”

“You’ve said nothing in the last two days about voiding the treaty.”

“And I haven’t said anything about the sun setting, but it has and will.”

“The sun setting does not cut me off at the knees.”

Wolf glanced down at Maynard’s legs, and confirmed that they were still intact. Ah, an English saying he hadn’t heard before. “Derek, pretend I don’t understand human politics.”

“The treaty is between the humans and the elves.” Maynard followed the human tendency to talk slowly and in short sentences in the face of confusion. It made the time to enlightenment agonizingly long, even for an elf. “But the treaty is the basis for many agreements between United States and the United Nations. It makes Pittsburgh neutral territory controlled by a UN peacekeeper force — the EIA — for the duration of the treaty.”

“Ah, with the treaty void, Pittsburgh reverts to control of the United States.”

“Yes!”

“No.”

“No?” Maynard looked confused.

“Pittsburgh now belongs to the Wind Clan, and I decide who will be my representative with the humans and I choose you.”

Maynard took a deep breath as he pressed his palms together, prayer-like, in front of his mouth. He breathed out, took another breath. Windwolf was starting to wonder if he was praying. “Wolf, I thank you for your trust in me,” Maynard said finally. “But for me to continue acting as Director of the EIA, it would require me to disregard all human laws — and I can not do that.”

“There are no human laws anymore. Humans must obey elfin laws now.”

“That’s not acceptable. I know you’re the viceroy, and as such Pittsburgh falls under your control, but the humans of Pittsburgh will not accept you unilaterally abolishing all human laws and rights.”

“These were conditions agreed to by your own people.”

“Well, shortsighted as it might have been, it was assumed that if something happened to the gate that Pittsburgh would return to Earth.”

“Yes, it was.” Wolf did not point out that humans were typically shortsighted, rarely looking to past the next hundred years. “But we knew that sooner or later we would have to deal with humans wanting to or needing to remain on Elfhome.”

“Yes, of course,” Maynard said dryly. He gazed down at the blue paleness of the Ghostlands. “Is your domi sure that we’re truly stranded? We’re still a week before scheduled Shutdown.”

“Something fell from orbit. She believes it to be the gate.”

“But she could be wrong.”

“It’s unlikely.”

“Let us say that we wait a week to be sure before calling the treaty null and void.”

“A week will not make any difference.”

“Ah, then it will be no problem.” Maynard spread his hands and smiled as if Wolf had agreed.

In that moment, Wolf could see the tactfully charming young officer he hand selected out of the U.N. security force to act as the liaison between human and elf. Maynard had been so young back then. Wolf smiled sadly. “And if I agree to a week?”

“During this week, we draw up an interim treaty that basically extends the original treaty.”

“No.” Windwolf shook his head. “We could create an interim treaty but the original treaty can not stand. It makes humans too autonomous.”

“Pittsburgh has existed as an independent state for thirty years.”

“No, not Pittsburgh, humans. All elves belong to a household and to a clan. They hold a very specific position within our society. They are responsible to others, and others are responsible for them. It’s the very foundation of our culture, and if humans are to be part of our world, then they must conform to our ways.”

“You mean — you want humans to form households? Set up enclaves?”

“Yes. It’s imperative. All of our laws are structured on the assumption that the people under our laws are part of our society. You can’t be as independent as most humans are and still be part of us.”

They searched late into the evening but found nothing more of the dragon. Storm clouds had gathered throughout the day, and as dusk became night, it started to rain. Unable to track the dragon farther, Wolf and his sekasha returned to the enclave. He checked first to see how his domi was doing. Tinker lay in the center of their shared bed, a dark curl of walnut on the cream satin sheets. Wolf paused beside the footboard to watch his beloved sleep. Despite everything, he found great comfort in seeing her back where she belonged, safe among the people who loved her.

A saigin flower sat on the night table, scenting the warm air with its narcotic fragrance. Little Horse slept in a chair beside the bed. The hospice healers had stripped off his wyvern armor; fresh bruises and healing spells overlaid the pale circles of bullet holes from two days ago.

I almost lost them both to the oni, Wolf thought and touched his blade brother’s shoulder. “Little Horse.”

The sekasha opened his eyes after a minute, rousing slowly. “Brother Wolf. I only meant to sit down for a moment.” He looked drowsily to the flower beside him. “The saigin must have put me asleep.”

The narcotic was starting to color Wolf’s senses with a golden haze, so he opened the balcony doors to let in rain-damp air.

“Are you well?” Wolf took the other chair, waiting for Little Horse to wake up from his drugged sleep, wondering if he’d made a mistake pairing his blade brother with Tinker. They were both so young to go through so much.

“I’m bruised, that is all.” Little Horse rubbed at his eyes. “My shields protected me.”

“Good.”

“I was thinking about the oni leader, Lord Tomtom, before I drifted off. He checked on our progress either at noon or at midnight. Some days he would make two inspections. It occurred to me that he was rotating between compounds, overseeing two or three of them.”

“So the number of oni warriors in the area might be much greater than the sixty you counted?”

Little Horse nodded. “From what I observed, though, the warriors are like sea wargs.” His blade brother named a mammal that gathered in colonies on the coast; the male animals fought to gather harems of females, and any cub left unprotected was usually killed and eaten by its own kind. “Command goes to the largest of group and he rules by cruelty and fear. They fight among themselves, but I saw no weapon practice or drills. I believe that not one of their warriors would be match for a sekasha.”

“That is good to know.” It backed what Maynard had told him at one point. Warned by Tinker, Maynard had begun to secretly sift through his people two months earlier. Using Tinker’s description of “cruel and ruthless people with no sense of honor” he found the hidden oni fairly simple to find. So far intensive magical testing had proved his guesses correct.

Little Horse glanced toward the bed and a smile stole onto his face, making him seem younger still. “Despite their large size and savageness, she terrorized them.”

Wolf laughed. Little Horse yawned widely, so Wolf stood up and pulled his blade brother to his feet. “Go to bed. The others can keep watch.”

“Yes, Brother Wolf.” Little Horse hugged him. It was good, Wolf decided, that he paired Tinker with his blade brother. They would protect each other’s open and affection nature from the stoic older sekasha.

After steering Little Horse to his room, Wolf detoured to check on Singing Storm. He expected to find her sleeping when he cracked her door. She turned her head, though, and slit open her eyes. A smile took control of her face. Still she greeted him with a semi-formal, “Wolf Who Rules.”

He lowered the formality between them. It was her ability to see him as nothing more than a male that made him love her so. “How is my Discord?”

Her smile deepened. “Good and just got better.”

“I’m glad.” He leaned down and kissed her. She murmured her enjoyment, running her hands up his chest to tangle in his hair. She tasted candy sweet from her favorite gum.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered into his ear. She meant intimately like this, as she had guarded over him every day for the last two months. Taking Tinker to be his domi, however, meant an abrupt change in their relationship. They hadn’t even had a chance to discuss it afterwards.

“I’m sorry.”

She nipped him on the earlobe in rebuke. “No matter who, if they were the right one, you would have wanted this.”

“It was graceless.” He had given her only a few hours warning of his intention to offer marriage to Tinker. She knew him well enough to know that he would want a monogamous relationship as long as Tinker was willing to give him one.

“When did we start to care about grace? Wasn’t that the whole point of leaving court, all the false elegance? I like that we’re honest with one another — and I like her — which is not surprising since I like humans.”

“She’s an elf now.” Wolf gently reminded her.

“In the body, but not in the mind. She speaks low elfin as if she was born to it, yes, but she doesn’t know our ways, Wolf. If you don’t have time to teach her, then get her a tutor.”

Wolf found himself shaking his head. “No. I don’t want a stranger trying to force her into court elegance.”

“Are you afraid that she will lose all that makes her endearing to you?”

Only Discord would dare to say that to him — but then — that was another reasons he loved her. She would risk annoying him to make him face what needed to be faced. For her, he sighed and considered the possibility.

“No,” he said after thinking it through. “Yes, I love her humanity and I’ll mourn it if she loses it completely, but she is so much more than that.”

“Then have someone teach her. She nearly got us all killed today because she couldn’t bear to sacrifice me.”

He knew better than to argue with Discord on that but was pleased with Tinker’s decision. It was Tinker’s courage and ability to pull off the impossible that had initially attracted him to her, and he would have been deeply saddened to lose Singing Storm. “I’m trying to find a solution to this. I know she needs to be taught our customs, but I don’t want her to necessarily conform.”

“I never said anything about conforming,” Discord nuzzled into his neck. “Conforming is for chickens.”

He laughed into her short blue hair. “That’s my Discord.” He kissed her and drew away to consider her. From her hair to her boots, Discord challenged everything elfin. Yet of all his sekasha, she was the only one that had grown up at Court and had high etiquette literally beaten into her. There was no one more knowledgeable, yet least likely to force those skills onto Tinker.

“What is it that you want of me?” she asked.

“You know me too well.” He tugged on her rat tail braid. “I want you to keep close to my domi and be there when she needs guidance.”

“Pony is her First.” Discord switched English, a sign that she wanted to be bluntly truthful. “I’ll be stomping all over his toes. I don’t want to piss him off. He’s one of the few that never said shit to me about being a mutt.”

“Pony is not the type to put pride before duty. He loves Tinker, but he knows that he doesn’t fully understand her. He hasn’t spent enough time in Pittsburgh, away from our people…”

“Like me?” It was point of sadness between them. For a decades they ignored all the little signs that they could not be more than domou and beholden. The fact that she would chose Pittsburgh over being with him had made clear that while they were good together, they were not right.

“Like you.” Wolf took her hand, kissed it, and moved on. “Humans are still mysterious to him.”

She thought for a moment and then returned to Elvish. “As long as it does not anger Storm Horse, I will be there for her.”