I know what everyone thinks, but it’s not true. Yeah, we all were glad to get the extra week off, but no one wanted Dr. Peterson dead. It was January 2nd, the day before we were due back in school from Christmas Break, that the phone trees lit up and we heard that Dr. Earl Peterson, the principal of Swell Hill High School for more than fifteen years, chairman of the school board, and head of the volunteer group at Swell Hill’s St. Clarence Catholic Church, had killed himself.
It was a terrible shock to the whole community, and no one quite knew how to explain it. Everyone just kind of kept really quiet about the whole thing, and when with my friends the next day, we tried hard not to bring the whole thing up. Death always seems to affect different people in all sorts of different ways. I was tired; the nightmares had gotten worse in the past nights, so I wasn’t getting much sleep. It got so bad that I cut short hanging out with my friends to go home and get some rest.
Her car was in the driveway when I pulled in. Damn. If she was home that early, it could only mean one thing, she was drunk again. My father married Vespa three years ago, a year before he succumbed to stomach cancer, leaving me with the bitter woman. Marcus, my older brother, ran away six months after the wedding, but then, he never really did adjust after our mother died in 1988.
Wistfully, I opened the front door, stepped in, and closed it. Vespa was in front of me when I turned around, reeking a bit of whatever she’d been drinking. From the look on her face, I knew that I was in for it.
“You didn’t clean your room yesterday,” she stated.
“No, but I had to drive the Stevens’ kids into the city to their grandmother’s, remember? I’ll do it right now, I promise.”
Vespa raised her arm to belt me across the face. I flinched, but the doorbell rang, and she was interrupted mid-swing. My step-mother brushed me aside and opened the door. Standing there was a woman in her late-twenties, with short, black hair that appeared to be blowing in the wind, but there was no wind.
“Hello, you must be Vespa Rawlings,” she said, speaking in a thick, cultivated, Southern drawl, “I’m Dr. Rose Archer, Ph.D., and I’m here to speak with you about your daughter. It’s a matter of a scholarship.”
The woman smiled, and Vespa stood silent, her mouth a tight, scowling, line, then finally ushered her into the sitting room and closed the sliding glass doors. Dr. Archer looked over at me and winked. I set my sports bag down by the stairs and went into the TV room to sit on the couch.
From what I could see, Vespa was standing and gesturing angrily at the young woman, who was holding what looked like some of the writing I sent away to colleges. Finally, Dr. Archer spoke back, and when countered by Vespa, slammed her hand down on the coffee table. There was silence, and the two returned to the TV room.
“You’re going to New Orleans,” my stepmother said acridly, and stalked up the stairs.
I turned to the stranger, and the look on my face must have conveyed my confusion.
“Yes, that’s right. I’ve offered your mother fifty thousand dollars to let you attend the Archer Finishing School down in Louisiana. If you like, you will be paid a salary as well.”
“Whoa, wait a minute. My manners are just fine,” I said, and it came out sounding a bit snottier than I’d intended.
Dr. Archer laughed. “No, that’s just what the school is called. The students there are all going to be like you, people who have special talents and gifts. I’ve read some of your writing, and think that you’d be a perfect addition to the group I’m getting together.”
“Wow, I mean, thanks. I’d love to attend your school next year.”
“We’re leaving tomorrow.”
“Hold on a second, I’m a senior, I still have to finish out the year. As much as I’d like to, I can’t just up and leave,” I replied.
Reaching into the briefcase she carried, Dr. Archer pulled out what looked like my final report card, complete with grades for the last two semesters. I stared at it, not quite sure what I was getting myself into.
“I know that you’re capable of those grades, and everything is all arranged. So, are you coming?”
There was a moment of silence as I thought about it. Ever since my father died, I’d just been working my way through high school so I could go away to college and get away from Vespa. Now, a perfect opportunity had been all but dropped in my lap.
“Sure, you can count me in,” I finally replied.
Dr. Archer nodded, and looked at me in a way that seemed as if she was staring into the deepest part of my self. “You have dreams of running through the woods at night, don’t you?” she asked.
“Y-yes,” I answered, absolutely shocked. I’d been having those kinds of dreams since my mother was killed in a car crash when I was seven, and I’d never told anyone about them. To tell the truth, they were kind of strange, and I really wanted to believe that, unlike nearly everyone I knew, I was normal and not the least bit unbalanced or insane or anything.
The woman winked again, and walked towards the door. “I’ll contact you tomorrow before picking you up to go to the airport. Get a good night’s sleep, all right?”
I nodded, then went upstairs to start packing. Vespa was in her room with the door closed, so I let Mr. McDonald of the Golden Arches treat me to dinner that night. After getting most of my stuff together, it was about 12:30, and I was exhausted. In a daze, I changed into my pajamas, fell into bed, and into a fitful sleep.
This time the dream came on fast, and seemed more real than ever before. I was running on all fours through the forest, and paced by what looked like a giant wolf. All around us were the sounds of the night animals and the smells of the woods in winter. Not knowing what to do, I kept running; through trees, up and down hills, and leaping over small brooks that sang river songs in the darkness. Still, the wolf ran with me, and finally, I came to a halt.
He stopped as well, and sat back on his haunches. For moment after moment, we locked stares, both not really sure what the next move was. The wolf stood, and I mean that. Before my incredulous eyes, he became a handsome man wearing black clothes and a trench coat. I blinked, certain that what I had seen had only been a trick of the light, or lack thereof.
“Go ahead, you can do it too,” he said kindly.
I looked down at my feet only to find that they were paws, and both felt and heard my tail swishing back and forth through the leaves of the forest floor. I was a wolf.
“I don’t understand,” I said, then went speechless with the shock of hearing my own words spoken in a growling language that I’d never before heard, but somehow understood.
“Well, basically, you’re a werewolf. This is the first time your conscious mind has let you remember changing, and we call this your First Change.” The man took off his trench coat and held it out. “Try shifting into homid form.”
“I don’t know how.”
“It’s easy, just visualize yourself standing erect on two feet.”
Closing my eyes, I thought of running the bases in softball, and what if felt like to stand. I felt my muscles shift and move, my bones re-knit, and my spine reset as I stood. The pointed canine teeth shrunk back to the regular 32 cuspids and bicuspids and the soft, gray fur disappeared; I was human again, standing in the woods, absolutely buck-naked. Quickly, the man covered me with the trench coat.
“I was wearing clothes when I went to bed,” I reflected to myself.
“They were probably shredded by your change, but don’t worry, I can teach you how to prevent that. Oh, by the way, my name’s Rick,” the man said, grinning, and held out his hand. I shook it, a million questions running through my mind.
“So, I’m a werewolf?” Rick nodded. “Damn it, this isn’t fair! I can’t risk changing into some kind of monster every full moon!”
“Don’t worry, kid, it doesn’t work that way. You’re in control of when you want to shift forms, not the moon, well, we call her Luna.”
“No, you don’t understand. I’m supposed to go some special school in New Orleans tomorrow, but I can’t go like this!” I said angrily.
“Don’t worry, you’re still going,” said a familiar voice from behind us. Rick whirled around and seemed to grow a bit bigger and more hairy, but when Dr. Archer stepped out from the shadows, he reverted.
“Oh, it’s just you,” he said, looking somewhat annoyed and relieved at the same time. “Look, I hate to be like this, but I’ve got a very important errand to run, so can you take it from here?”
Dr. Archer nodded. I shifted back into wolf form and shook off the trench coat. Rick picked it up and slipped it back on. “I’ll be in touch, take care, kid.” And with that, the first werewolf I’d ever met ran off into the shadows, leaving me in the woods with a woman who I’d just met that afternoon, and who seemed to hold the answers to all that was happening. We started walking through the woods.
“So, you knew about all this?” I asked, but stopped short when I realized that she probably couldn’t understand what I was saying.
“Well, I was pretty sure that you were a Garou, and sensed that your first change would be soon, though I didn’t know it would be tonight.” Wow, I heard her words both through my ears and in the back of my mind at the same time. Hesitantly, I tried thinking back at her.
“Garou, that’s French, right, Dr. Archer?”
“Call me Rose,” she said.
“OK, Rose, why me? I mean, why am I all the sudden a werewolf?” In truth, if I hadn’t seen myself go from being a wolf to a person, then back to a wolf again, I’d never have believed all this was real.
She stopped, and pulled a laptop computer out of the briefcase that I never seemed to notice. It booted instantly, and after typing for a minute, Rose brought up a 3-D image of a human karyotype. The picture zoomed in on a gene on one of the chromosomes, then further to the individual DNA coils. Now, I’ve always done fairly well understanding genetics; it was my favorite unit in Biology, and I even attended a series of lectures about it at the local university, but what Rose was explaining was way over my head.
“Um, I hate to say this, but can you dumb it down a little?” I asked, a bit ashamed.
Rose smiled and brought up a screen full of calibrated Punnett Squares. “The gene that codes for being a Garou is extremely recessive. Those who have it but not enough to express it, are called Kinfolk, that is, they have the potential for producing Garou children. You parents were probably both Kinfolk.”
“Oh. So they couldn’t do the stuff that I can, right?”
“Exactly.”
“Wow, this is, I mean, wow. Next you’re going to be telling me that there’s vampires, sorcerers, aliens, and other junk like that.”
“Kindred? Well, they’re all around, in fact, you might be meeting some, I haven’t ever seen or met an ‘alien’ or what you’d call them, and as for mages, I’m one,” and with that, Rose tossed her head and her hair abruptly changed from black to blonde, then back again.
“I’ve got a friend who could make good use of that little trick,” I commented, not really sure how to handle all that I was discovering.
“Well, it’s not really something that I can do whenever I want.”
“How come?”
“It’s kind of hard to explain,” Rose said, “You’re what we call ‘Awakened’, because you now know about magic and supernatural creatures, so if you see a display like that, nothing would happen, because you believe. If I was to do that small warping of reality around people who don’t have the capacity to believe, then there would be consequences.”
“Oh. Would you get in trouble with other mages?”
“No, with consensual reality. You see, reality is woven like a tapestry, and mages have the ability to warp reality. However, if they try something that would be too much of a burden on the belief system of the people, the strings all snap back into place, and that force hurts the mage.”
“I get it, it’s like if a friend of mine saw the hair trick, but couldn’t rationalize it, it would be a paradox to her, right?”
“Exactly. That’s even our name for it, Paradox,” Rose answered.
“So, what does this all have to do with me?”
“Well, you’re going to be part of the Archer Chantry, a group of supernaturals, mostly other mages, that I’m training. The things you’ll be doing are going to be difficult, and possibly even deadly. Knowing this, are you still sure that you want to go to New Orleans?”
I thought for a moment, and looked down at my paws. What was there for me here in Swell Hill? Only Vespa, and if I never saw her again that would be fine. I had learned so much in only a few hours, and wanted to learn more. If I was truly Garou, then I guessed it was my destiny.
“Yes, but I’ll need tomorrow to get things in order,” I replied.
“Your school already knows that you’re leaving, so that’s taken care of.”
“What time will you be there to pick me up?”
“In the late afternoon, your plane leaves at 5:00pm.”
“Can I send my car down? See, it was my father’s, he had been letting me use it, and after he died, it just kind of became mine.”
“I understand,” said Rose.
By that time, we’d reached my house. I started for the door, then realized that I still a wolf. Turning, I thought back at Rose,
“How am I going to get in the house? I don’t have any thumbs to turn the doorknob with.”
She grinned. “So practical; you’re going to love being a part of the Archer Chantry. Here, I’ll lend you my coat until tomorrow.”
I crawled under the trenchcoat, all strangers seemed to own one, then shifted back to human form and quickly covered myself as best I could. Once in the house, I got re-dressed and fell in a thankfully dreamless sleep.
The entire next day was consumed by packing. Everything that I wasn’t taking with me initially had to be tagged so it could be sent down later, plus I had to make arrangements for my car as well. The only three friends that I cared to keep in touch with were all out, so I left a message on each of their machines promising to call from New Orleans as soon as I could.
Vespa got home at 3:00, and I was treated to a dissertation of why I was such a bad daughter, and how I didn’t deserve the luck that I’d received. If I didn’t know better, I’d have said that she was jealous of this chance I had to get away and make something of myself. In fact, she looked so desolate that I almost began to feel bad for her until she started whining about how bad she’d had it when she was young and all the bad crap that’d happened to her. Hey, none of that was my fault, and there was no way that I was going to feel guilty for it. Eventually she went back out again, probably to get drunk, and I put all my stuff by the door, all ready to go.
Actually, as I walked through the silent house, I was struck with remorse for being so willing to leave the place where I’d grown up. It was just that all the things that had made this house a home, my mother Alexandria and my father Walter, were gone. Almost out of reverence for them, I cleaned up the kitchen, did the dishes, and straightened up the downstairs. The late-afternoon sun shone through the windows, fragmented into a million little rainbows by the sun-catcher. We bought that prism at an outdoor market on vacation in Maine, and I took it down and slipped it into my pocket. Finally, I felt ready to leave.
Rose showed up twenty minutes later in a rented car, and after I loaded my things in the trunk, I turned off the lights, took one last look around, and locked the door of the house I was born in.
We made the flight in plenty of time, and Rose spent the two hours explaining about what was waiting for us in New Orleans. Apparently, she was a member of a very old Southern family that had made their fortune before the Civil War. As such, the Archer estate was an incredibly large house, in which lived Rose, her husband Vincent, several members of her family, as well as many student mages. It appeared that I would be the only werewolf there, but Rose told me that Rick lived in New Orleans as well, and would be teaching me all that I needed to know about being a Garou.
Actually, I was kind of excited, I mean, my life had changed radically in just 24 hours, but it hadn’t been for the worse. See, the confusing thing was that I’d never really thought of myself as anything other than a normal, everyday American kid. Thus far, I’d believed everything that Rose told me, and I guess I wouldn’t have a reason not to, but this was still a lot to take in. Also, it was a bit frightening.
When we landed in Louisiana, there was a nicely dressed young man waiting at the gate. Actually, I remember thinking that he looked like the classic leading man/romantic hero from any black-and-white movie. What also stuck out were his clothes; shiny black shoes, neatly pressed black pants, starched white shirt, and over that a beautiful red and black patterned vest. He appeared to be about early 20’s or so, and looked very ethnic; his hair was jet black, as were his eyes, and his skin-tone was a shade darker then mine and Rose’s. I had him pegged as Hispanic or Middle Eastern, but had to scrap that assumption when he opened his mouth to speak.
“So, how was the flight?” The boy had a wonderfully smooth, deep Southern accent, very similar to Rose’s. My mind clicked, he must be of Cajun descent, that would account for the appearance and voice. Hey, sometimes it pays to pay attention in Sociology.
“Hmm? Fine,” she answered. “Jean, I’d like you meet Remy DeStatte, one of my students. Remy, this is Jean Rawlings, the girl I was telling you about.”
“I’m charmed by the pleasure of meeting you,” Remy said, taking my hand and genteelly kissing it.
“Um, nice to meet you too.” This guy was seemed like such a gentleman, and I found myself blushing a bit. Embarrassed by it, I looked around for the baggage claim, and saw Rose already walking off. Remy shrugged, took my carry-on bag, and motioned for me to follow. I noticed that he had a very straight posture, and when he walked, it made him look like someone out of a movie or something.
Once we had all of out stuff, Remy led us to where he’d parked, and I was surprised to see a civilian Hum-V waiting for us.
“Remy, why did you bring the Hummer?”
He got a sheepish look and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, you never let me drive it, and when you said to pick you up, but didn’t tell me which car to use, I figured, well, why not?”
“I see. Well, give me the keys and I’ll drive us home,” Rose said as Remy threw my things in the back seat.
The Archer estate was about five minutes outside the main city of New Orleans, and looked much the way that I expected it would. From the big iron gates, to the avenue of willows, to the massive doorway and front hall below a massive double staircase, I felt as if I’d stepped into one of those antebellum made-for-TV miniseries. An almost short, slightly portly black woman dressed as a maid was standing in the hall when we entered. Wow, I guess I had stepped into something from television.
“Oh, Miz Rose, dat nice Mister Jones done called, and he said dat if you wanna meet de student he’s gots, just come on over when y’all can.”
“Thank you, Ruby. I’ll probably call on him tonight. Oh, this is Jean Rawlings, and she’ll be staying here until further notice.” I gave a little hi-hello wave.
“Well, hey dere, Miz Jean. If dere’s anyt’ing dat you need, you just be speakin’ up now, y’hear?”
Nodding, I scoped out what of the massive downstairs I could see. The front hall opened to a library on the left and a huge dining room on the right, while straight ahead were the stairs and further back looked like it went to the kitchen and a whole other half of the house, possibly more. Man, this place was huge. Everywhere was beautiful polished hardwood floor and furniture that had to be at least as old as the Union itself. Man, it must have been a hassle to dust and vacuum.
“Jean, your room is on the second floor, the first one on the right. We usually eat at around 5:00, that is, whoever’s home at that time gets dinner. Rick should be back in New Orleans tomorrow night, and he’ll be over then to start your training. Other than that, you can do what you like. The city has a lot of things to occupy interest, just don’t get yourself into trouble, but if you do, tell the police that you’re one of my employees, that carries a lot of weight around here,” Rose said, almost as if she’d recited that speech several times.
“Um, Ok.”
“Oh yes, and this is very important; don’t go ever, ever up to the third floor unless I tell you it’s alright, and don’t go shifting in public. If you need any help with anything, I’m usually around and can be paged on the intercom system,” she nodded to a small panel on the wall, “Remy can also help you, he’s been a student here for a while, but tonight we’ll be out on business. Any questions?”
“Well, not really.”
“Good, I’ll leave you then to get yourself settled. Remy, please help Jean bring her luggage in.”
He smiled. “Done and done.” The boy turned around, mimed opening a door, and somehow, one by one, pulled my bags out of thin air.
My jaw dropped. So, Remy was a mage too, and from that display, probably a lot more powerful than Rose; though the way she carried herself suggested that there was a great deal that no one knew about her, and it was probably better not to find out.
“Wow! That was amazing!” I cried. Remy just stood there, beaming, then suddenly jerked forward as if hit in the head from behind.
“You’re not the only one with Correspondence, boy.” Rose was glaring at him, and believe me, that was a look that I never wanted to be on the receiving end of. “What if Jean had been a Sleeper?”
“But she isn’t.”
“True, but you didn’t know that for sure. You’re too careless with your magic. One of these days it’ll get you in trouble, and don’t think for a second that you can run back to me to protect you from your own stupidity.”
“But I didn’t…”
“You didn’t get Paradox, right? This time you didn’t. You can’t go around using magic to do simple things that would require just a little expenditure of energy. I don’t tolerate lazy students. Actually, now that I think about it, I’d been concerned about not making that meeting tomorrow afternoon, but now that I have a babysitter for little Cousin Laurel…”
Remy shoved his hands in his pockets. “Babysitting?!? Aw, Rose…”
“If you whine like that again, it’ll be more than babysitting, Remy DeStatte. Grow up and start acting like the responsible mage that I know you are. We’re leaving for Keith Jones’ office in twenty minutes; I expect that you’ll be ready.”
With that, she turned and walked back into one of the rooms behind the kitchen. I shrugged, shouldered one of my bags, picked up the other two, and started up the stairs. Remy followed after me.
“Here, I’ll take one of those,” he offered, kind of gallantly, actually.
“Thanks.”
“So, which Trad are you?”
“Pardon?”
He grinned. “You know, which Tradition?”
“Um, I’m not sure. How many are there?” What was he talking about? I’d been raised mainstream Christian, was that what Remy meant?
“Well, there’s nine Traditions, but that’s not counting the Hollow Ones or the Orphans. There’s the Akashic Brotherhood…zen guys, the Celestial Chorus…really religious ones, the Cult of Ecstasy…they’re all about a good time, Dreamspeakers…kind of like neo-shamen, Euthanatos…that’s my Trad and we keep things even in the great cycle, the Order of Hermes…stuffy bookworms, the Sons of Ether…imagine Trekkies who’s phasers really work, the Verbena…that’s what Rose is and they’re like pagan witches, and the Virtual Adepts…they deal with computers and cyberspace.”
“None of them sound like me. What were the other two?” I asked.
“Hmm? The Hollow Ones are really into the goth culture. Trust me, you’d know it if you were a Hollower. You might be an Orphan; they don’t fit anywhere, usually people who don’t feel like listening to their mentor, but that’s just my opinion,” Remy replied.
“Technically, I guess I’m an orphan because my parents are both dead, but I’m not all that rebellious or anything.”
We reached the door Rose had said was mine, and I put my bags down on the bed. The room was about as big as the one I’d had at home, and already had a computer hooked up at the desk and a phone on the nightstand. There were two doors on the far wall that led to a closet and a small bathroom. Besides the wooden furniture and curtains, it looked as if Rose had left the rest of the decorating up to me. Remy sat down in the desk chair.
“Huh. Jean, I’d be hard pressed to say just what kind of mage you are.”
I started laughing. “Rose didn’t tell you?”
He raised an eyebrow in question. “Tell me what?”
“I’m not a mage, I’m a werewolf.”
Remy just sat there speechless, and I grinned again. I guess I didn’t have ‘Garou’ printed on my forehead in big block letters or anything. Truth be told, I was still kind of afraid that people could tell what I was. When you’ve thought of yourself as just the average girl next door all your life, then someone comes up to you and says, ‘Surprise, you’re a supernatural monster!’ it really shakes you.
“Wow, Rose told me that werewolves existed, but honestly, I didn’t believe her. Can you change yourself anytime you want?” Remy asked.
“Actually, I don’t know. See, all this only happened yesterday, and no one’s really explained much to me. All I know is that the last time I shifted, I ended up with no clothes on, and that’s definitely not going to happen again.”
Remy nodded, but I noticed the slight flush on his face. He was about to say something when the intercom on my wall beeped twice, and Rose’s clipped tone told him that it was time to leave. The young mage quickly stood and walked over to me.
“Well, Jean, it was nice meeting you and all, and I look forward to working with you in the future,” and Remy strode out of the room.
I should have started putting all my things away, but instead flopped back and lay on the bed. Last night, only 24 hours ago, I was packing for New Orleans, and about 4 hours after that I was running through the woods in wolf form. Things were beginning to happen too fast for me to catch up with, I mean, I was just an ordinary kid like everyone else. At least, I used to be. Maybe this was all just an elaborate scam, though it didn’t feel like it, and besides, what could these people possibly want from me?
The beeping of an alarm clock woke me at 8:00 the next morning, and the sun was shining through the window onto my bed. For a second, I didn’t know where I was, but then the memories of the past two days kicked in. Not really knowing what I was supposed to do next, I showered and got dressed then went downstairs. It was kind of weird actually, this place didn’t feel like home to me and I was nervous that I didn’t belong there.
There was an air of activity on the first floor, but none of it was occurring nearby. I peeked into the front room and saw a man who looked like he should have had on a football uniform or something. This guy was huge, probably coming close to seven feet, and built like he could stop a tank if he wanted to. His massive frame was sitting in one of the chairs in the corner, and he looked up from his book as I turned the corner.
“Um, hi,” I squeaked, caught off guard.
“Hello,” he answered softly, almost…timidly, “You must be the new student that Rose was talking about. Welcome to our home, I’m Vincent, her husband,” and, taking off his thin, gold-rimmed glasses, he offered me his hand. He reminded me of a gentle giant.
I walked into the room and shook hands. “I’m Jean Rawlings, from Pennsylvania.”
Vincent smiled kindly. “It’s been a while since we’ve had any Gaian folk around. Well, there’s Rick, but he only stops by now and then.”
“Gaian folk?”
“You know, Garou. Rose told me that you’re young yet and haven’t had everything fully explained to you. Don’t worry, all this might seem strange and too much now, but in time you’ll get used to it.”
I nodded. Actually, I remembered Rose telling me that her husband was a mage too, so it’d make sense that he’d know about werewolves; it seemed that all mages did. Tangentially, I wondered if Vincent had read my mind or something, but then, I guess he was probably used to wet-behind-the-ears supernaturals wandering around his house.
Smiling again, he put his glasses back on and went back to his book. I took that opportunity to find my way to the kitchen, where Ruby was washing dishes.
“Well good mornin’ Miz Jean. Miz Rose says to tell ya that yo’ car done got sent down earlier, an’ it’s parked outside. You want breakfast? I can fix somethin’ up,” she offered.
“No, that’s ok, thank you. If I’ve got my car then I’m going to go out and get something to eat, you know, learn the streets around here and stuff. Besides, I don’t want to make more work for you.” It was true, I felt uncomfortable with her putting aside things just to get me something.
“Aw pushaw honey, it’s my job, but dat’s a good idea, why don’t y’all go out an’ explore? Miz Rose says just be back by dinner, ‘cause Mister Rick’s gonna be by.”
“5:00, right?”
“Um-hmm.”
“Ok, I’ll be there, thanks.”
The courier company had done a good job; transported my car in just a day, and there was even a courtesy hard-candy on the dashboard and a new air-freshener hanging from the rearview mirror. My first stop after pulling out of the large driveway and through the ornate gates, was the FreshMart that I’d seen on the way in. Ok, so it wasn’t good old Marty’s Drugs and Convenience like up north, but it was probably still savior to those with late-night cravings for whip cream, beef jerky, and all the other strange things people buy at around one o’clock in the morning.
Armed with a map of the Greater New Orleans Area, oranges juice, and some greasy thing called a ‘breakfast sandwich treat’, I hit the roads. It was a bright morning, kind of warm for early January, but then, I was in the Deep South. The roads around the main city were pretty good, though I hit a few jam-ups on some of the major intersections. All in all, it wasn’t too hard to get around, but I knew that it’d probably take me about a month to really know where I was going.
Going north on the highway, I was out of the suburbs and into the fields and shacks of rural Louisiana. Soon, it was all what looked like a thick, forested swamp; must be what they call ‘the bayou’. Even though the sun was shining at it’s strongest as I passed though the area, I got this weird feeling going up my spine, and just wanted to get away from there as soon as possible. I guess you could say that I’d seen a bit too many Twilight Zone episodes.
By the time I’d gotten back to the Archer Estate, it was about 4:30, so I decided to call it a day. Besides, I was really looking forward to seeing Rick again; he was the only other werewolf that I knew at that point, and I was anxious to have everything explained to me, as people kept promising. Carefully, I parked and went inside.
This girl came through the front hall, and I swear I’m not making this up, she looked like a human-sized Barbie doll, complete with the outfit. Unfortunately, I guess the attitude wasn’t included.
“Who the hell are you?” she asked with a sneer.
“J-jean,” I stammered, completely taken aback.
Remy, who apparently had been back in the kitchen with her, strode into the front hall as well. “Hey Jean, this is Candy, the new Verbena student that we went to meet last night.”
“Verbena? Like Rose, right?” He nodded.
“Yeah, and what’s it to you? You a tight-ass Choruster or something?”
“Jean’s a werewolf,” Remy said, standing there and looking smug; it was a great ‘I bet you wish that you knew that’ kind of look, and I smiled. Candy burst out laughing.
“What? You mean those flea-bitten two-legged dogs still exist? Well, that’d explain your looks then.”
“Hey, I look fine!” I retaliated. “And for your information, being a were– a Garou happens to be very important and very rare.” At least, that’s what I was guessing from what Rose had told me.
“Huh, whatever. Well, Ms. Garou, if you’re so special, let’s see you shift forms,” Candy said, in what was possibly the most irritating voice imaginable. The look she gave me said what she didn’t have to, ‘double-dog dare ya!’
“I can do that, it’s easy.” Of course, now that I needed to shift to wolf form, I couldn’t remember how.
“Well? I’m not impressed.”
Remy, who I knew had never seen a werewolf change forms, put a hand on Candy’s shoulder. “Aw, don’t say that. C’mon, Jean, I know you can do it.”
“Well, hold on a second, it’s very complicated magic, and it takes a while to work up to.” Damnit, it was so obvious that I was stalling for time.
“Fuh,” sniffed Candy, “I bet she’s not even a supernatural, she’s probably just a pathetic custos or something.”
Now I was really getting angry. Not only was the pressure making me nervous and unable to concentrate on shifting, but I was also starting to get really sick of Candy’s attitude. A little spark lit itself in me, and just as I was about to open my mouth to say something really nasty, I was suddenly a lot bigger and hairier than I’d been a second ago.
Remy’s eyes went wide and he backed a pace. Candy put her hands on her hips and cocked a stance. Wow, I felt so…powerful, so strong, like I could run three times around the school track in an instant if I wanted to. For some reason, all I wanted to do right then was throw back my head and howl, but that seemed really messed up.
“Certainly. Thank you for stopping by, I donate to your charity every year, but this is the first time they’ve sent someone by to pick up the check. The door’s this way…”
Before I could even react, Rose and a young, hippie-looking man walked into the front hall from the other wing of the house. He stopped dead in his tracks, face contorted in terror, he whirled around to get away, and ran smack into the wall, falling unconscious to the floor.
“What in Creation is going on in here?!?”
I looked down at Rose, and realized that I was looking down at Rose. Furiously, she snapped her fingers at me, and I was back to my regular form, clad in a gray cotton shirt and matching pants.
“Didn’t you listen to a word I said yesterday? What possessed you to go showing off like that?”
Cringing before a glare that I was sure could split stone, I meekly tried to explain myself. “W-well, I just thought that I could be a wolf or a person, I didn’t know that I could be that big or anything, a-and…”
“Don’t you ever, ever change forms for anything other than necessity! Not everyone in this house is Awakened, and I don’t want to have to deal with the Delirium on a daily basis.” She nodded in the direction of the guy passed out on the floor.
“What’s the Delirium?” I asked, concerned, because it sounded like something that probably wasn’t good.
“Rick will tell you about it. Now, I suggest you go upstairs and change. The clothes were an effect so you wouldn’t end up exposed, but I’m warning you, next time I won’t be so resourceful.”
Man, I really felt low, like I’d blown everyone’s expectations of me, and that I wasn’t worthy of being here and a part of all this. Candy was standing there looking smug, and Remy was staring at his shoes, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I…I’m sorry.”
Rose was picking up the unconscious man. “We’ll talk about it later. Remy, give me a hand.”
The two of them carried the hippie into the back wing of the house, and I was left standing in the front hall with Candy.
“She sure told you,” she said, almost triumphantly.
“Hey! You did all that on purpose. You knew that there was a stranger in the house, and you probably used magic on me to turn me into that…thing!”
She shrugged. “Magic? I didn’t lift a finger. And so what if I did know? What’re you gonna do about it, you’re really in the doghouse right now. Oh wait, isn’t that where you belong anyway?” Laughing cruelly, she followed after Rose and Remy. I decided that I definitely didn’t like Candy.
It wasn’t fair; I hadn’t been blatantly showing off like Remy had the other day, and I didn’t even mean to do what I did. Upstairs, in the privacy of my bathroom, I was able to shift down to wolf form, but that was it. While I had the opportunity, I trotted back onto my room, and looked at myself in the mirror on the back of the door. Hey, I was a pretty cool looking wolf, but I’d hate to have to be in that form all the time.
Dinner was kind of tense, at least, it was for me. Besides Rose, Vincent, Rick, Candy, Remy, and myself, there were about six or seven other people, some of them being members of the chantry, and others who were Rose’s relations. Candy flirted non-stop with Remy, and that was kind of irritating, but I shrugged it off. Mostly, everyone talked about the goings-on of New Orleans, so I just concentrated on eating dinner and not saying anything. Occasionally, Rose’s glance would fall on me, and for some reason I couldn’t explain, I kind of shrugged myself smaller and looked down.
Finally, dinner ended, and everyone dispersed. Not knowing what else to do, I stuck by Rick, who went up to talk with Rose.
“So, what does she know already?” he asked.
“Nearly nothing. I haven’t had time to devote to teaching a young pup about a culture that I’m not a part of. I understand that your duties are quite important, especially now, but there was an…incident this afternoon that I would’ve rather not have had to deal with.”
“What happened?”
Rose cleared her throat, and when I looked up, met my eyes. “Would you like to tell him?” Not a very good question, because from the way she said it, I probably didn’t have a choice. This was great; first embarrassed in front of Remy and Candy, then in front of the only other Garou I knew.
“Well, Candy, this student mage here, she said that she didn’t believe that I was a werewolf, and asked me to prove it. I tried to shift into wolf form, but something went wrong, I think she used magic on me, and I ended up, um, all big and everything.”
Rick rubbed his goatee thoughtfully. “Hmm, ‘all big’ huh? Then the forms will be the first thing we cover.”
“T-then Rose and a guy came through, and when he saw me, he went crazy and ran into the wall.”
“I managed to repair any damage that may have been done to both the Veil and his sanity, but I’m warning you, Rick, if it ever happens again, I will hold you personally responsible,” Rose interrupted.
“Hey, she doesn’t know anything yet, you’ve got to give her some leeway to make mistakes. I’m sure that some of your new mages screw up now and then, and for that matter, were you perfect when you started out?”
There was a sudden and uncomfortable silence in the dinning room, broken finally by Rose. “Just make sure to instruct her to the best of your abilities. Jean, I apologize for being so severe with you, and after tonight you’ll understand why I had to be.”
“Um, ok.” By then, I just wanted to start hearing all of this Garou stuff, because it sounded like I was pretty stupid when it came to my own race.
Rick shrugged. “C’mon kid, let’s hit the road. I’ll have her back before dawn…more or less,” he called to Rose, who’d disappeared into the kitchen.
We got into Rick’s car, a nice black sports model, and drove off into the night. After about five minutes, he spoke.
“A lot of what you’re going to hear and learn might be hard to understand, hell, it’ll probably be hard to believe, but just try your best to keep up, ok?”
“Sure.”
“We’re going to a place called a caern, it’s like a holy place for Garou, a place where they can protect each other and feel closer to Gaia, the earth. I guess we should start with what we believe in, then work our way up to all the other stuff.
“Ok, in the beginning there was just Mother Gaia, and she created three children. The Wyld was pure energy and chaos, and it produced raw stuff of being. The Weaver was order and reason, and it shaped creation into things. The Wyrm was balance, and it destroyed what the Weaver made so that the Wyld could create again. So did the Trait work together like this for as long as there was a circle.
“Then, something went wrong. No one really knows why, but the Weaver began to move faster, trying to spin everything into her web. The Wyrm had to do double-time to keep the balance and counter the insanity of the Weaver. She spins at this manic pace to this day. Here’s where things get tricky though; the Wyrm went insane too, and some even say that he is trapped in the Weaver’s web, but that’s not what I think.
“Instead of just destroying the extra parts of Wyld and Weaver, the Wyrm began to destroy everything, trying to corrupt all of creation with a foul taint that he didn’t have when he was created by Gaia. Thus, our pained mother created us, the Garou, to serve her and protect her from the minions of her turned child, the Wyrm. There were other Changing Breeds created, but by far we were the most populous and strong. Very few of the animal changers are left now, but I’m starting to get ahead of myself.
