Seeds of Autumn

  Chapter Twenty

  That night Stalker-of-Night's-Shadow slept with the pack, though Stone and Flames weren't there. Beside her, Weaver was restless all night and Stalker got flashes of images of her nightmares through the pack telepathy, though by morning she couldn't remember anything about them.

  Stalker's own dreams were a chaotic jumble but she recognised Pursuit-of-Midnight-Solitude for the first time and knew that she had been seeing her in her dreams for days. The thread that tied all of her dreams together was her hunt for the night spirit and at last she was able to welcome the Path of Night into her soul. She dreamed of being buried alive with no light or sound, and of chasing the night as an ancient fox with only one tooth. It was prophecy, she felt it in her bones. She knew she would always dream like this now, Pursuit-of-Midnight-Solitude would tease her relentlessly and she would be drawn out into the night to hunt for her all her life. The quest would never end, it was the hunt that mattered, not the kill. Hunter had secured permission to enter other packs' territory because of the lure of the path and Stalker-of-Night's-Shadow may have to do the same.

  When she awoke the next morning she didn't feel rested at all. It seemed that her packmates felt the same, they had picked up her anxiety and adrenaline. But the excitement over her finding her true name overrode the sluggishness and they were quick to offer their congratulations.

  'I like it.' Fights-Eyes-Open gave her a big brotherly hug and a wide grin. 'Very evocative.'

  Over breakfast she recounted some of her revelation to the pack, though for some reason she held back on parts. She didn't mention Hunter, something inside urged her to hold her tongue, so she described tracking an unfamiliar scent to the rooftop on the southern edge of their territory and having an epiphany about the Pursuit-of-Midnight-Solitude and then chasing it home.

  'It's been bugging me since I changed, flitting in and out of my dreams and my peripheral vision when I'm awake. I'm just glad to know what it was all about really,' she explained over her toast and bacon. 'This doesn't stop me being able to join Odin's Warriors, does it?' she asked Shadow quietly, as the others tidied the breakfast things away. He shook his head.

  'No, not at all. I'm sure you will have room in your life for them both.' He smiled affectionately and she grinned back at him with relief. 'I'm looking forward to introducing you to the others tonight. It should be an interesting gathering.'

  Stalker-of-Night's-Shadow didn't probe for more, she simply accepted that she would learn all she needed to when they got to the gathering.

  That afternoon she sat down to learn to read runes with Shadow's Step. She would need to know them for rituals and recognise markings of territory and so on. But learning them was hard and relatively dull. Shadow had tried to make it easier and more entertaining by making it a card-pairing game. She had to match the rune with the amusing cartoon.

  'Probably the single most important rune is this one,' Shadow said, passing her a card with the simple combination of strokes on it.

  'Wolf?' she asked, knowing the answer, she had come across it earlier.

  'Yes, but it has other nuances, often “savage wolf”, “werewolf” and also “Berserker”, another name for Odin's Warriors. It can mean any of these, so you'll need to pay attention to context.'

  Stalker-of-Night's-Shadow looked at it carefully, committing it to memory. She looked up at Shadow.

  'So tell me about Odin. Isn't he a god?' She recognised the name from Norse mythology but didn't remember any of the details.

  Shadow stood up and pulled his black jeans down a bit over his left hip, exposing his hip bone. She squinted and saw a black tattoo of the rune, almost invisible against his dark skin.

  'The patron of Odin's Warriors, obviously. Some believe him to be a god, others see him as a very powerful fae. We pledge loyalty to him. In return he makes us stronger, faster and better able to use the ferocity of the beast without succumbing to it entirely. He grants us even faster healing and gives each of us an additional animal form, my cobra for example. I'm not sure what will happen with you. We are his warriors, Berserkers.'

  'Will I meet him tonight?' she asked in awe.

  'No. He doesn't manifest in this realm lightly. I've never seen him. But I've felt his presence in combat a number of times.'

  Shadow smoothly handed her the next set of cards, returning to her lesson, though she was bursting with questions. Grudgingly she turned her attention to the work and the afternoon passed slowly as she struggled to get to grips with the ancient runes.

  As the sun set the pack gathered briefly for food and then departed, like a deep breath in and out again. Stalker and Shadow's Step set off for their evening with Odin's Warriors. They took two buses, crossing the city and heading south-east into Barrow Market. They walked quickly through an ageing industrial area and made their way towards an abandoned warehouse.

  The night was almost silent around them until they were no more than a meter from the huge sliding doors that formed the main entrance of the warehouse. Suddenly Stalker could hear noises coming from inside; raised voices and the banging of drums, as if she had passed through an invisible sound-proof barrier.

  Shadow pulled open the sliding door, spilling firelight out into the dark street. They stepped inside and Shadow slid the door closed again. It was a vast space, almost empty, but metal bins containing fires were dotted around, and a large open bonfire took up a large portion of the middle of the warehouse. Stalker glanced up and saw open shafts in the high ceiling, releasing the smoke out into the night. There were a dozen people laughing, shouting and singing around the fires in smaller clusters. Someone was pounding a drum and chanting and a few faces turned their way as Shadow and Stalker entered the space. Stalker recognised Ragged Edge and First Strike among the gathered participants and she smiled in greeting to them.

  First Strike was standing close by a striking woman. She was exceptionally tall and lean with pale skin and bright red hair that fell almost to her waist. She wore a long, loose skirt and huge combat boots, a red vest on her upper body clung to her muscular frame, red and black tattoos covered her arms and chest, across her back were strapped two long swords.

  Stalker tried not to stare, and on looking around the rest of the room found herself not knowing where to look as everyone displayed similar bold appearances; with tattoos and weaponry on display everywhere. First Strike himself was topless, his massive upper body was decorated with several dozen tattoos, which had been covered by clothes last time they met.

  Shadow led her towards Ragged Edge, who sat perched on a bench, leaning on his staff. He looked exactly the same. Next to him was another mature-looking shifter, he wore ceremonial robes of some kind. They were deep burgundy with delicate gold embroidery at the hems, in what Stalker thought looked like Viking patterns. The robes looked as old as the man in them, fraying slightly at the edges but well cared for. The man had greying hair tied in a neat braid that hung half way down his back and his skin was leathery. He had a thick beard to match his long hair, which was also braided. Propped up next to him against the bench was a scythe, which Stalker tried not to gawk at.

  The two grizzled old shifters stood to greet them. Shadow grasped each of their forearms in turn and respectfully bowed his head. He held out a hand to Stalker as if displaying her and she stepped forward tentatively.

  'This is my pack-sister, Stalker-of-Night's-Shadow. I bring her to you as a daughter of the fight. I have seen her spirit and it yearns for the fire of Odin.' His voice was strong and confident, but as low as ever. Stalker tried to lift her head and puff out her chest with pride, but she couldn't help but feel submissive to these two ancient shifters, and it took great effort to hold her head high.

  They bowed their heads to her. Ragged Edge smiled encouragingly and stepped closer to her, taking her arm the way Shadow had taken his moments before in a formal gesture of greeting, she guessed it was their way of saluting one another.

  'I like your new name,' he whispered, it
was a low, throaty rumble in her ear and she grinned at him with gratitude.

  'Thank you,' she spoke softly, shaking slightly with nerves.

  'This is Red Scythe.' Ragged Edge held his hand out to the robed elder, who in turn took her arm. 'He is our leader. The strongest of us.'

  Stalker mentally assessed the two old warriors and decided that Ragged Edge must be senior in years and perhaps past his best fighting days, she guessed he served as an advisor, maybe he had been the leader in decades past. She would have to ask Shadow.

  Red Scythe didn't smile, he looked at her for a long and silent moment, the general noise of the room seemed to dim around them. Stalker felt deeply uncomfortable, he still held her arm tightly in both of his hands and looked deep into her eyes.

  'You have come to us on a most joyous night, Stalker-of-Night's-Shadow,' the elder spoke at last, releasing her arm. His face softened. 'I hope you enjoy the celebrations.'

  With that he moved away from her, leaving her a little confused and curious as to what he had seen in her eyes. He didn't seem displeased, whatever his judgement of her had been. Shadow placed his arm gently around her shoulders and led her smoothly away.

  'I think he likes you, but it's not always easy to tell,' he said with a chuckle at her ear.

  She felt relief wash over her and resumed scanning the other occupants of the room. She looked longingly at the array of swords, axes and hammers strapped to people and about their person.

  'I wish you had told me about the armoury. You've been teaching me how to use my new body but now I see all these folks with even bigger weapons than mine and I'm beginning to feel you've been holding out on me.'

  'You need to get used to what your body can do first. Isn't that a principle in your martial arts?' he replied gently.

  Stalker knew he was right, she'd had to master judo and bando before progressing to banshay with swords, but still felt annoyed with him and only grudgingly gave him the satisfaction of agreeing with him. After all, it was her swords that had enabled her to defeat the rain elemental that Fortune had put her up against. She just didn't know how to use them in her savage beast form yet, she had been clumsy that time.

  'Shifters use these weapons when they're in that beast form, don't they?'

  The Agrius form still frightened her and would until she had better control of herself when taking it.

  'Yes,' Shadow replied. 'Some shifters use weapons in that form. That's why you see a lot of very large weapons.' He gave her a wink and her lips cracked into a smile.

  The sliding door flew open then and a huge cheer rang out through the assembled shifters as two newcomers entered. Stalker looked around at everyone in surprise, the two men in the doorway were grinning, the elder one guiding the other into the warehouse with a hand on his back.

  First Strike bounded forward with a huge tankard overflowing with mead, he gave the younger man a warm embrace before thrusting the tankard into his hand.

  'Congratulations Fire Talon!' he cheered, more to the room than the newcomer and the crowd echoed the salutation. First Strike led Fire Talon into the room and the door was closed behind him. As they moved into the room people crowded around them and all shook hands with Fire Talon, thumped him on the back and ruffled his hair. Even the women in the group offered these brotherly gestures of welcome and Stalker watched with bemused curiosity, an outsider but in no way unwelcome.

  'Well? It's been three days, tell us what it is.' Red Scythe spoke, his voice ringing over the jubilation with authority.

  'A girl!' Fire Talon replied, beaming from ear to ear. 'She's beautiful, perfect.'

  Stalker grinned with the realisation that this shifter had just become a father.

  Drinks were passed around the group and Stalker happily took a glass of beer from the red-headed woman. The two of them stood quietly, looking over the celebrating crowd.

  'You must be Shadow's new packmate,' the red-head spoke. She had a melodic voice that almost rang like a bell, yet it was full of authority.

  'That's right. Stalker-of-Night's-Shadow.'

  'Crimson.' The red-head offered her hand and Stalker shook it. 'I'm First Strike's Alpha.'

  Stalker nodded her head submissively, acknowledging the woman's seniority.

  'Your territory is Fenstoke,' Stalker recalled, hoping to impress.

  'That's right. Just north of here. My pack, The Hand of God, have always had a good relationship with Crimson Dawn's Blood.' She tilted her glass towards the be-robed elder. 'Red Scythe's pack. This is his territory.'

  'Of course.' Stalker nodded in agreement and tried to take in all of the information. She was going to have to get Shadow to draw her a map and label it.

  'Gather around,' Red Scythe's voice boomed out across the cavernous warehouse, echoing off the metal walls. A loose circle was quickly formed around him, also encompassing the large fire and Fire Talon, who still looked as pleased as punch and clutched the huge metal tankard of mead in one hand.

  'We are gathered here tonight to celebrate the birth of Fire Talon's first-born and the continuation of his line,' the elder spoke in his commanding voice. Around him the circle seemed to solidify and Stalker noticed that several members of the group were stamping their feet firmly in unison, she could almost see the ripples of energy flowing out from each of their feet, forming an energy barrier around the circle. A shiver went up her spine. The crowd was chanting, a low rumble at first that she couldn't quite identify, but it soon grew louder and Red Scythe lifted his arms, looking up at the tendrils of smoke from the fire beside him snaking up to the open vent above.

  'Blood. Life. Fire. Blood. Life. Fire,' they chanted, and Stalker found herself joining in.

  'We beseech Freya and all of the Vanir to bless this child with lifelong happiness, health, luck and fertility,' Red Scythe called over the rising chant.

  Fire Talon was swaying, drifting into some sort of trance. The elder supported him and walked him closer to the fire. Taking out a sharp knife, Red Scythe held Fire Talon's arm out over the fire and cut into his flesh. Blood dripped into the flames, with no reaction at all from the new father.

  'May this blood be shed in the name of Odin, as a sacrifice for the gifts granted by the Gods upon this shifter and his progeny.'

  The crowd began to get restless. Stalker could feel the adrenaline coursing through the circle, and someone to her left started to shift form.

  'I close this circle and thank Odin for his ever-lasting protection! Let the feast begin!' Red Scythe shouted and the crowd erupted, many people shifting forms suddenly, as if unable to control themselves any longer. Stalker felt fired up too, but without a tangible or spiritual connection to the group she didn't react as strongly as the others. Roars went up through the crowd, a few small fights broke out, where adrenaline had spilled over, but gradually people started regaining control and shifting back to their human forms.

  A greasy guy came forward, dressed in loose, dark clothes, he had long blond hair, a goatee and tattoos on every visible inch of skin. He lead Fire Talon to a chair and pulled off the new father's top. Another chair appeared and this grungy-looking shifter went about adorning Fire Talon with new ink, right over his heart.

  Platters of food were brought out, a hog on a spit was placed over one of the fires and alcohol flowed freely. Stalker had lost Shadow but she began to mingle a little with some other familiar faces, gravitating towards First Strike and Crimson.

  'What will happen to the baby?' she asked Crimson quietly. 'Who will raise her?'

  'She will stay with her mother. Fire Talon will protect them if necessary, but he won't be able to be close to them. For their protection,' she replied.

  Stalker nodded sadly, thinking of Fights-Eyes-Open.

  'Do you think the mother knows what Fire Talon is or what their little girl could be?'

  Crimson sighed and looked over at Fire Talon sadly.

  'I hope for her sake no.'

  'What about us?' Stalker asked tentatively. 'Fem
ale shifters. We can have babies too, right?'

  Crimson tilted her head and looked into Stalker's eyes.

  'We can and we do. Some give up their babies, others bow out of pack life for a time to bring up their child away from the dangers of our kind. I have heard of shifter communities out in the countryside who all live together with those who have turned. But they don't last long.'

  'What happens to them?' Stalker was compelled to ask, though she didn't want to hear the answer.

  'Enemies slaughter them, or they turn on each other. We are pack animals, certainly, but we don't gel well with humans.'

  There was sadness in Crimson's eyes and Stalker wondered what life experiences the beautiful shifter was drawing on.

  Stalker thought of Wind Talker and Lily.

  'Some packs keep human kin close, though,' she said, not mentioning any names.

  'Yes, of course. Normally once a child is through the most vulnerable years they will be raised by their pack.'

  Stalker nodded. Crimson's words made sense. A baby must be quite a burden for a shifter mother or father. She could easily imagine how difficult it would be to have to care for a small child with all of the dangers of this life around. She couldn't imagine ever choosing to try.

  A short while later, Stalker found herself in a small and serious circle, feeling quite out of place amongst some of the most powerful shifters in Caerton. Ragged Edge, Red Scythe, Crimson and Shadow's Step stood around her, casually observing the revelries of the younger shifters.

  'I notice Fury hasn't joined us tonight,' Shadow observed and the others murmured in agreement.

  'I hear there was an altercation between your packs recently,' Red Scythe noted, with a sly wink.

  'Nothing too much out of the ordinary,' Shadow said seriously. 'You know how it is between the Blue Moon and the Wrecking Crew.

  Stalker's ears pricked up and she tried to discretely sip her drink and listen attentively.

  'Indeed,' Crimson said. 'I recall similar tensions a few decades ago between the Hand of God and the Glass Wolves. When Theodore was first Alpha and a while before my tenure began. It got quite nasty at times.'

  'I had an interesting message from Theodore the other day,' Red Scythe mused, stroking his jaw. 'Something seems to be even more amiss than usual in the city centre. You know his pack mops up a lot of that mess when it overspills into Burnside.'

  'Has he had a vision?' Shadow asked, an edge of curiosity to his voice.

  'Not that he shared with me,' Red Scythe replied. 'He just said that the urban demons were in utter disarray. Have any of you noticed anything?'

  'The darkness demons,' Stalker piped up, forgetting her place. The others looked at her curiously. 'They're behaving strangely, aren't they?' she asked, looking pointedly at Shadow.

  He cleared his throat and looked awkwardly around the group.

  'Yes. There was that one that grabbed at you in Hepethia. I didn't wish to trouble you with it at the time. But yes, that was a bold and unusual move. Darkness demons can usually be counted on to be cautious.'

  'Ragged Edge, could you speak with your patron? I would assume he would know if any of his underlings were unhappy.' Red Scythe looked pointedly at the other grizzled old shifter.

  Ragged Edge made a strange grunting sound deep in his throat and shifted his weight about.

  'I will see what I can find out, of course. It is a city-wide matter, I see.' He knocked back the last dregs of his drink and strode away to find a refill. Crimson drifted away to speak to someone else and Red Scythe was approached by two slightly intoxicated younger shifters who seemed intent upon having his attention.

  'What did he mean about a patron?' Stalker asked Shadow.

  'The King-of-Glass-and-Steel, the embodiment of Caerton in Hepethia is an ally of the Watch.'

  'Oh wow,' she said, awestruck. 'I knew the Watch were old and powerful, but that's incredible.'

  'Not everything old is powerful though, be cautious of that assumption.' Shadow finished his drink, gave her a sad sort of smile and drifted away. Stalker felt uncomfortable at his words. She watched him pick at the hog roast and thought about the discussion she had been very privileged to be included in. It was a glimpse into the city's politics, pack rivalries and a hint of the way in which cooperation was hesitantly sought. It seemed that cooperating was not a strong trait in shifter-kind, if these alphas and betas had been anything to go on.

  The celebration continued into the small hours of the morning, finally Shadow gave the word for them to head back to St. Mark's. They said their goodbyes to the dispersing crowd and made their way out into the cold night. They walked quickly, talking in low, excited voices about the night's events. The buses had long since stopped running, so Shadow led them on a direct course out of Barrow Market, across the city centre, just skirting the edge of Burnside, which was claimed by the Glass Wolves, then north through China Town and into their territory. It was a long walk and Shadow moved quickly, constantly vigilant. Stalker was a little drunk, but her senses quickly sharpened as the wind whipped around her hair and face. As they crossed onto their own territory Shadow finally looked directly at Stalker, an expectant smile playing on his lips.

  'So?' he asked with eagerness in his voice.

  'When can I join?' she asked, grinning up at him. He gave a satisfied nod and returned her grin.

  'I will make the arrangements.' He placed a brotherly arm around her shoulders and they walked home in easy silence.