The Wolf

            

 

            The sky was black. The night was windless, starless, and Jazeera had to light a candle to ward off the darkness that gnawed at her heart. Night had come quickly, but sleep refused to. She sat on her bed in her dressing gown, black hair falling loose over her shoulders, and a voice—oh, that voice—meandering through every thought in her mind.
            Come to me.
            Jazeera clutched at her head in agony. The voice, menacing and deep, had haunted her at every setting of the sun. The young woman had spent many nights standing at her bedroom window, staring down the ball of sun until it sank into the earth. At the last wisp of light, the voice would bite into her head.
            Come to me.
            Every night for the past five months had been the same. Jazeera would listen to the voice talk to her. She would sometimes sleep through it, but her dreams were hellish and filled her with an unnamable fear. She slept in the day now and devoted her nights to solitude, to listening and mastering her fear.
            I will come to you. She closed her eyes. I don’t know what you want from me, but I am ready to face you. Are you ready to face me?
            A warm chuckle echoed through Jazeera’s mind. The voice replied, Come.
            Jazeera threw herself off her bed. In a frenzy, she ripped off her nightgown and thrust some leggings and a tunic on her tense body. Rummaging through the clothing in the draws of her bureau, her fingers clasped around the short sword she had purchased at the beginning of the voice’s calling. She ran her hand over its sheathed edge, breathing deeply. The sword had never drawn blood and was as innocent as she was. Innocence was a paltry price to pay if it would bring her freedom.
            The sword buckled to her side, Jazeera grabbed the candle and turned toward her chamber door. Before she could reach it, it swung open.
            “Jazeera?” It was her maidservant, Hyath. She too was carrying a candle in a bronze candlestick. She held up the light, and covered her mouth in shock at Jazeera’s appearance. The determination on Jazeera’s face told her everything in a glance. “What are you doing?” Hyath cried, hurriedly shutting the door behind her.
            “I have to go.” Jazeera replied, trying to push past Hyath to get to the door.
            Hyath seized Jazeera’s candle and set it and her own candlestick on the ornate nightstand. She grabbed her by the shoulders. “Please, Jazeera! You can’t do this.”
            “I have to.”
            “It will kill your father if you leave.”
            “It will kill me if I stay.”
            “He has already lost your sister. You know he will die of grief if he loses you too. Jazeera,” Hyath cried frantically, holding her mistress’s face in her hands, “fight it! You’ve been fighting it for months now. Do not give in.”
            Jazeera softened at Hyath’s tears. She embraced her and kissed her hair. Hyath had been good to her through these dark months. She was always there for her with comforting words, soft lullabies, and arms that held her through the nights when all she could do was sob. It felt like a betrayal to abandon her. Jazeera’s fingers wrapped tightly around Hyath’s coarse hair, imprinting its texture on her skin.
            “If I do not return, Hyath, know that I love you. Take care of my father.”
            Jazeera reached past Hyath, forced the door open, and ran with her arms outstretched. Hyath called after her repeatedly in a harsh whisper, but Jazeera ignored her, feeling along the walls until she found the door. She yanked the latch out of place, swung the door open, and continued her sprint into the night.
            Where is the moon? Jazeera thought. She could barely see where her feet were taking her. It was only by the sound of her boots crunching on stone that she knew she was on the path leading from her father’s house to the woods.
            Yes, the voice hissed in her ears, come to the woods.
            Jazeera stopped a moment to catch her breath. Will you lead me to you? She wondered briefly if she was like a lamb, being led by a ravenous lion to his den.
            The voice hummed in satisfaction. Come.
            Jazeera wrapped a clammy hand around the hilt of her sword. Small as the gesture was, it somehow made her feel safer as she followed the stone path. Each breath that passed her lips sounded louder than a slamming door. Her heart beat unnaturally fast like the wings of a hummingbird, ready to take flight out of her chest and leave her behind.
            Without the moon’s light, Jazeera only began to see the outline of trees when she came a few feet in front of them. The grip on her hilt became tighter. She had often played in these woods with her sister as a child, but for the last five months she had refused to even look toward them. If she did, all she saw was oppression.
            I’m here. She took one step closer to the trees, shaking like the leaves on them.
            Enter.
            A cold, creeping wind slipped through her. A numbing hesitation. Must I?
            I thought you were ready. The voice was patient, ever so patient.
            In response, Jazeera released the hilt and walked into the woods.
            The instant she passed in between the thick trunks of two trees, a horrible crunching noise surrounded and echoed around her. She swallowed a scream. Turning her head only, she stole a look behind her. The trees had intertwined to form a barrier. The way had been shut.
            Now, my dear, you are here.
            Like a flash of lightening, the whole forest burst into sight and then disappeared into darkness. A deafening boom exploded through the air, causing Jazeera to moan and cover her ears. Then everything was still and silent.
            Just when she was about to reach out with her mind again, a warm ball of golden light appeared on the path before her. Slowly, its beams spread until a long, narrow path was directly outlined before her. Despite the dank monstrosity that clung to the very air in that place, Jazeera couldn’t help but find beauty in the light that came from the golden orb. She stretched her hand into it and smiled as a tingle of pleasure rippled through her. It was sunlight.
            She did not hesitate now, but submitted her whole body to the light and follow its path.
            Only a few minutes past until she came to the end of the path. The light shown onto the entrance of a cave. Although beams of light pointed directly into the mouth of the cave, no light showed inside. It was black as the moonless sky. Jazeera wondered if whatever was inside the cave killed the light. She wondered if it would kill her.
            You’re letting out the warm air.
            Jazeera fought the urge to draw her sword as she left the light for the darkness.
 
            For a moment, Jazeera thought she was back at home, in her bath, Hyath pouring deliciously hot water over her. It was warm in the cave. It was so warm, heavy, and delightful that Jazeera desired more than anything to lie down and bask in the heat.
            A quiet thump thump travelled through the thick air, and the most dazzling thing Jazeera had ever seen happened.
            Two candles about five paces apart burst into flame. Less than a second later, two more candles lit on either side, slightly larger in size and flame, and before Jazeera could blink twice, the cave was exposed, the walls lined with small candles leading into tall torches. She twirled around as each light burst into being until she found herself facing the entrance. Two torches on golden posts guarded it, burning proudly.
            Jazeera advanced toward the torches, amazed at their splendor.
            A sheet of unmovable rock shut off the entrance with an angry hiss. The torches blew out from the force of air pushed through the door, but they were instantly ablaze again.
            Jazeera couldn’t help herself; she threw herself at the rock slab frantically.
            “Let me out!” she screamed.
            She pounded on the door with her fists, holding back sobs. The rock would not be moved. Horrified and exhausted, she rested her forehead against the cool stone. It felt good. The initially comforting warmth was threatening to overwhelm her. Her hands were slick with sweat, and blood, she realized when she examined them.
            Turn around.
            Jazeera shuddered. The voice had never sounded so close. She trembled, afraid that the voice was right behind her, whispering in her ear. She thought she felt breath on her neck.
            Don’t scream. She told herself. Don’t be afraid. Turn around.
            She ran her bloody hands through her hair, and immediately wished she hadn’t, but she pushed her discomfort aside, and swung around.
            Five months. Jazeera had been preparing herself for this meeting for five months, and there he was. At least, she assumed it was a he. She didn’t know how to tell a she-wolf from a he-wolf, but whatever he was, he was beautiful. He reclined in a small golden throne, like a man, with one leg crossed over another and one arm resting on the armrest, the other on top of a slim, bejeweled cane. He had a rich gray coat of fur that darkened slightly at his snout, and he wore a strange-looking tunic. His eyes were a piercing, emerald green. Jazeera had never seen such magnificent eyes.
            Do you like me?
            The wolf was mocking her. He was inside her head, wasn’t he? Didn’t he know everything she just thought?
            No. He replied with a small upward curl of his mouth. I cannot read your thoughts. I feel some, but your mind is not as open to me as I would like.
            “Talk to me.” Jazeera said. Her voice echoed off the walls. She liked that. Somehow, it made her feel stronger.
            I am.
            She gritted her teeth. “Get out of my head. Speak to me!”
            Do you really want that, my dear?
            Something about the way those green eyes looked into hers made her realize that, no, she didn’t. In fact, hearing, truly hearing, his voice would be unbearable.
            “No.”
            Won’t you sit?
            Out of nowhere, an elegant chair appeared in front of Jazeera. She brushed its back with her fingertips, feeling its smooth wood. Satisfied that the chair was real and not some trick, she sat, now closer to the wolf than she would have liked.
            Some wine?
            Again, the wolf’s offer found form out of nothing. A table with two glass goblets and a gold decanter set themselves in between Jazeera and the wolf. Without being touched, the decanter rose into the air, poured wine into the goblets, and set itself down. Jazeera stared, and did her best to keep her hand from trembling as she took the wine and raised it to her lips. The wolf also took his goblet cradled by his two paws.
            The wine was sickeningly sweet, but Jazeera forced herself to drink it. She felt the wolf testing her, making her first uncomfortable by the temperature of the cave and then by the honeyed wine.
            Now, shall we do something about your clothes?
            The belt to her sword went from faded leather to a silk rope. The blade itself went untouched. Jazeera wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or concerned that the wolf let her keep her weapon. Her plain tunic and leggings were transformed into a white dress that shone with tiny diamonds. It hugged her chest and torso, but flared at the sleeves and hips. It was an incredible dress. In any other situation, it would have made Jazeera feel beautiful and powerful, but knowing it had been bestowed on her for the wolf’s pleasure only succeeded in increasing her discomfort.
            “So,” Jazeera asked before the wolf could do any more damage, “you’re a sorcerer?”
            Very good.
            “And what does a sorcerer want with me?”
            Can’t you guess?
            He did not want her for ransom, surely. If he could make chairs and tables out of nothing, then riches wouldn’t be a problem. It also seemed unlikely that he wanted to eat her, considering the amount of trouble he had gone through just to get her into his cave. What would a sorcerer want with her? She knew nothing about sorcerers. Nothing, except that they usually weren’t wolves.
            “You’re enchanted.” It was the only thing that made sense, and it would explain the man-ish manner in the wolf’s being.
            And?
            “And you need my help breaking the enchantment.”
            The wolf brought his paws together in applause.
            “Why me?”
            The wolf stood, stretched, and dropped to all fours. The soft pads on his feet stroked the floor as he encircled Jazeera. You have certain qualifications needed to break the spell.
            He was so close to her she could reach out and feel his fur. Surprised, she found she wanted to. She pushed the desire out of her head and tried to focus on getting out of the cave alive.
            “Such as?”
            He stopped in front of her and made a little bow with this head. You have strength, beauty, and love for others.
            “And these are needed to break the spell?”
            Mm.
            Jazeera leaned forward. “What will happen if the spell is broken?”
            For the first time, the wolf seemed hesitant. He let out a little sigh before answering, I am a shape-shifter. A sorceress many years ago confined me to this shape, denying me all the powers I possess as a man. If you choose to break the spell, I will return to my human form and half the world will likely be destroyed.
            Then you are wasting your time, Jazeera thought. Frightened as she was of death, Jazeera would not risk the lives of others. If breaking the spell meant that, then she would rather die. Having reached this decision, Jazeera was reassured. What was the worst he could do? Kill her? Yes. But harm others? No. And death would be a relief in comparison to the torments she had already suffered from this sorcerer.
            Jazeera scoffed slightly. “Why do you tell me this? Do you think it more likely that I will help you with such information?”
            The wolf snapped his jaws tightly. It is part of the enchantment. I must truthfully answer any questions my spell-breaker puts to me.
            “Answer me this, then. How do I leave this cave?”
            By breaking the enchantment.
            “Why should I help you?”
            The wolf smiled, bearing his perfectly white fangs. He strolled to the back wall of the cave, wagging his bushy tail all the while. As he approached the golden throne, he swept his tail against the cold stone, and returned to his seat. At the touch, the wall trembled. It shuddered as if some great force were pushing behind it, clamoring to get through. Jazeera’s eyes widened as a long, casket-like box slowly emerged from the wall. It had a gold bottom and a glass domed top. Contained inside, lying ever so peacefully was her sister.
            “Aurora!” Jazeera cried and threw herself on the box. Aurora. Her wonderful little sister whom she never thought she’d see again. Jazeera pounded on the glass, but it would not break. Her hands searched every inch for a latch or opening that she might rip off the dome and embrace her sister.
            That won’t do any good, you know.
            Jazeera’s eyes burned with tears. She clung to the box to keep herself from flying at the wolf in her fury. “It was you.” She gasped, struggling for breath in that miserable, hot place. “You took her from me. And now you’re going to ask me to choose between her and countless lives.” Any confidence she had amassed was gone. He had found her weakness. He knew it all along.
            “Why?” She whispered. “Why did you take her? What was she to you?”
            I tried to have her break the spell first. But, she lacked your strength. So I kept her for the day when you and I would meet. The wolf gripped the arms of his throne with his long claws. And here we are. Now, we have a bargain to make, my dear. Her freedom, for mine.
            Aurora lay in the box, looking for all the world like a sleeping angel. She was just the same as the day she went missing, her black hair falling in perfect waves, her skin flawless, and her lips red as the deepest sunset. A few tears fell on the glass. Jazeera couldn’t leave her like this. Her love was too great.
            “If I decided to break your enchantment, will you wake my sister?”
            The wolf inclined his head.
            Jazeera breathed as deeply as she could. She wiped her brow with the long sleeve of the beautiful gown. Her head was pounding. “What must I do to break the enchantment?”
            The wolf jumped up from the throne, unable to conceal his eagerness. He held out one a paw and instantly conjured an apple. He held it towards Jazeera.
            We must each eat a bite of the apple, you first, and then I. After which, you must kiss me.
            Jazeera took the apple, rolled it from one hand to the other, considering it. Like everything else the wolf had made, it was perfect. It was shiny and vibrant in color. It even smelled delicious.
            She avoided the box. She tried to pretend her sister didn’t lie there. She desperately filled her mind with the thought of what her decision would do. How could she do this? How could she justify sacrificing so much for one person?
            “What happens,” she inquired, “if I refuse?”
            The wolf snarled. He knocked the table over, spilling the wine and shattering the goblets. Jazeera screamed as he sprung at her. She ducked but he still managed to gash her neck with his outstretched claws.
            “Listen to me!” He spoke. Jazeera screamed again. Oh, his voice. A hundred demons overpowered her in one word from his mouth, tearing at her, laughing at her, exposing everything inside her. She crumbled to the ground. Her arms were so weak that she couldn’t cover her ears. The wolf pressed his wet snout against her head and his words struck her like no blow she had ever received, “I have waited a hundred years to be free of this body. You will not stop me. If you refuse, I will make your life a living hell, more than it has been. I will destroy you and your sister.”
            Is that understood? The wolf returned to speaking his voice in her mind. Jazeera nodded, gasping for breath.
            She forced herself to talk. “Will…will anything happen to me when I break the spell?”
            You will become like me.
            “What does that mean?”
            It is woven into the enchantment that the one who breaks it will become a powerful sorcerer. It is a vain safe-guard.
            A sorcerer? Jazeera ignored the sting of her wounds and the high-pitched ringing that filled her ears. She snatched the apple from where it had fallen on her collapse. She stood, ate a bite, and handed it to the wolf.
            He too bit the apple. Once its juice entered his mouth, the dome of Aurora’s prison disappeared and the young girl stirred ever so slightly. Filled with hope, Jazeera stepped closer to the wolf and put her lips to his snout.
            The bright cave burst even brighter as a dazzling light engulfed the wolf. Slowly, his ears shrunk, shoulders formed, fur disappeared, and the muzzle turned into human lips returning Jazeera’s kiss.
            Jazeera pulled back so that she might see the true face of the sorcerer. He was much younger-looking than she expected, his hair and beard still brown, and the wrinkles around his eyes few. Like the wolf, there was something intrinsically magnificent about him.
            “Thank you.” The sorcerer said, his voice also altered. His laughter burst through the cave. Without a glance back, the sorcerer stretched out his hand, chanted, and the entrance to the cave was opened to him. “Farewell.”
            Before Jazeera could follow, the stone slab fell firmly back into place.
            “No!” She shouted.
            A quiet voice called out to her. Jazeera turned to see Aurora sitting up in the box, her face wild with fear. Jazeera rushed to her, embraced her, kissed her, and told her not to speak.
            “Stay here, my love.” She commanded. “And do not move until I come back for you.”
            Filled with a power she had never known, Jazeera held her hand to the door. Words came out of her, the same chant the sorcerer had used, but the chant would have been in her even if she hadn’t heard it. Again, the stone rose.
            “J-jazeera,” Aurora stuttered, “what’s happened to you? What’s happening?”
            Jazeera did not reply. She walked into the dark of the forest, drew her sword, and did not turn back.