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Kemly had always fallen asleep to the chorus of wolves each night. They lifted into the violet horizon around the same time. A clockwork that made everyone in Shore’s Edge tense up before the chorus died down a few minutes later. The guards along the palisades surrounding Shore’s Edge would keep hands on their crossbows, scanning the edges of the forest for movement.

Years had passed since the last raid from the wolves. Kemly didn’t fear the sound of their howls so much as his body saw it as a sign to search for somewhere to sleep.

There was always the church, of course. And Lady Bough, who ran the church, would happily have him, but Kemly long since decided to stop living on Lady Bough’s charity. Kemly only slept there in the winter, when the snow grew thick and the chill lanced to the bone. In the long, flagging summers, only the completely helpless stayed at the church.

Shore’s Edge was a settlement that logged the forests of the Thrush for the Balamot Empire. The Thrush was a forest of trees that resembled maples, but grew powdery, dandelion like growths all along their canopy. The trees were of a species that carried residual magic and took to being enchanted more easily than most metals. What Shore’s Edge logged mostly went to the ships of the Empire’s navy. The beams of wood and the larger trees for masts were resilient, fireproof, and could be enchanted so most attacks bounced off their sterns. The wood also got crafted into lesser material needs. The peg that had replaced Kemly’s left foot, for instance, was made of Thrush wood and enchanted to protect against rot and numb pain the artificial limb would otherwise leave Kemly with when he stood on it too long.

Kemly lost his left foot to a wolf bite. The same wolf scratched his mother’s ribs and the town guard put her down in the street. She begged for death while her seven-year-old son watched wide-eyed. It was the only way to stop the curse. But the lost limb, like many who lived with one less limb in Shore’s Edge, marked Kemly. He was the lowest of the people in the settlement, and an orphan to boot.

His father, who moved out to Shore’s Edge with his mother, was claimed by the wolves before Kemly was born.

So Kemly lived the last decade with little to nothing. The clothes on his back that folks occasionally donated to the church. Some days it felt like Lady Bough was the only one who knew his name. He didn’t mind the solitude much, if only because he grew crooked to it, the way lone windswept trees did to the wind.

The young man found an unlocked barn that a stablehand had left open while he fetched horses for someone. It was along the northern edge of the settlement, built close to the palisade there. A nearby gate led to the Thrush nearby. He ducked inside and found a stall to tuck himself into. Old hay and the stink of horse was a better companion than hard dirt along some alley. He tried his best to only settle for that when no other options presented themselves.

Kemly ran his hands through his unkempt, dark curls as he settled against the wall of the unoccupied stall. Soon as he got comfortable, the barn door swung open. Kemly tensed up, ready to try and flee if need be, while two sets of boots moved through the barn, both in mid-conversation.

“Tell them that I will return in a week’s time, I merely need to placate the emperor before returning here.”

“Yes, my lord,” a voice echoed.

“That wretched mage,” the first voice said. It was tinged with old resentments and fresh rage. Kemly recognized the tone from talking to fellow Marked about their encounters with wolves.

One set of feet paced back and forth. The second voice seemed to answer the pacing with, “Your carriage should be drawn soon. They needed to pull one of the horses from another barn.”

“Why?”

“The four trained to haul your carriage, sir, one of them got bit while on a ride a week ago. The soldiers slit its throat and left it for the wolves in the Thrush.”

A loud groan. “Don’t those fools know the curse doesn’t affect beasts? What is the point of the church if it won’t even teach these wretched idiots the most basic tenets?”

“We’re not sure why it was done, my lord. The men, they’re suspicious.”

“Hmm, a necessary evil I suppose. Still, horses aren’t cheap. And someone has to balance the budget of this hovel for the emperor.”

Kemly heard the sound of horse hooves and trotting.

Both voices rushed out of the barn and Kemly relaxed. No need to be chased out of the barn tonight, he supposed. Thinking on it, he recognized the voice of the person leaving town as Governor Frault. A short, portly man with a waxed, pointed beard who occasionally spoke at church when Lady Bough might convince him. He ran Shore’s Edge, essentially, him and the Court Mage who Kemly only ever saw in passing.

What Frault might be dealing with quickly fell out of Kemly’s mind, and he dozed off thinking of the snares he left in the Thrush. Tomorrow he would check on them and hopefully find himself fed.

***

Kemly woke stiff from a hard, dreamless sleep. He knew, without needing to see outside, that dawn had begun to pull into the sky. Soon whatever stablehand responsible for the building would tend to the barn. He got up, limbs stiff, and quickly crept outside. He did not go far, sitting cross-legged on a knoll by the gate. He watched sleepy guards play cards in a watchtower until, from deeper in the settlement, a rooster called.

Soon after new guards came to replace the soldiers at the tower; the sky a rosy pink as they cranked open the gate. Kemly was the first one out the settlement, knowing that soon the loggers would follow. Since Kemly was one of the Marked, they wouldn’t let him work a normal job, so selling game he caught was one of the few things he could do to make a living.

As he walked out of the settlement, a field where trees once stood greeted him. The grass here was newly grown, a pale green that approached white. Beyond that the Thrush waited. Kemly preferred to check the snares early as possible. The forest did not scare him much. He had not seen a wolf since the night he lost his foot, and had spent plenty of time in the forest since.

Inside the Thrush, light struggled to pierce its white canopy. It stayed in a perpetual twilight even at noon. At dawn, that darkness was like a moonlit night, and the knobbly roots of Thrush trees made for treacherous footing for those unpracticed in moving through the forest. He moved beyond the trees loggers had marked for cutting, walking for about twenty minutes, deep into the woods where he left his snares. He found he had the best luck when he left things far and away from where most humans dared to travel.

Kemly liked to fix his traps at the base of trees. Although all he seemed to have caught were a few stringy squirrels, which he tied by their tails along a string he carried in a pocket in his worn tunic. By the time the loggers must have been setting up to start their work, he was checking on his final snare. It existed in a small clearing, a ring of trees with enough space for one to put a small hutch.

Something had sprung the snare, but had escaped, and so Kemly crouched beside it to reset the trap.

As he worked, he heard a twig snap. His head sprung up like a deer’s as he scanned the dark woods behind him. It did not take long to find a shape in the darkness. Its black hide blended well with the shadows, but it was too dark. A sleek black hide of coiled muscle. A panther with bright yellow eyes watching Kemly.

Hands shaking, Kemly gently set the string of squirrels he caught on the ground as a type of offering. He drew the small knife at his belt and, very slowly, stood. He barely rose above a crouch before the panther lunged into the small clearing. Kemly screamed at the cat and brandished the knife. It did not matter.

Kemly was small for a man. And the panther easily outweighed him, so when it slammed into Kemly, he was thrown to the ground. The big cat yowled, Kemly’s knife did find its way into the cat's chest, but not deep enough to stop its attack. Kemly felt claws rake down his shoulders, tearing his clothes and splitting open his skin. He yelled again and tried to push the panther off him, but it weighed so much, he barely kept it at bay when it snapped at his throat.

Then something else slammed into the panther. The cat barely made a noise as it flew across the clearing. The young man groaned and heard a snarl of some other beast. The panther returned the snarl, but it didn’t attack. Instead Kemly heard it run off. Kemly lay panting on the ground, the rents in his skin left gashes from his shoulder to his chest. He whimpered at the pain, felt blood pouring into his shredded tunic.

He heard something circle over him and only opened his eyes when someone said, “You’re safe now. I ran it off.”

A deep, guttural voice. Hovering over him was a pointed muzzle, dark brown fur coating the body of a creature humanlike but with canine features. A wolf.

“Wh—what?” the question Kemly asked past pain. Sheer confusion at the simple fact a wolf could speak.

A long, pawed finger brushed against the wound and Kemly hissed from the sudden burn of pain. “These are deep. I will find a poultice that can staunch the bleeding. Stay here.”

“Wait!” Kemly groped blindly and touched fur, but the wolf did not listen. He ran off. Cursing, Kemly pushed himself off the ground, sliding his back against the dark trunk of a Thrush tree. It hurt to move his arms, blood did not stop seeping into his tunic. It matted the fabric wetly to his olive toned skin. He had time to notice this before he heard the sound of something fleet-footed returning to the clearing. It was the wolf again, standing in a slight patch of light only a moment to show the flash of his auburn fur, not brown. His eyes were a bright green, closer to human than animal. And he looked like he could tackle a warhorse. Cords of muscle on his arm and front showed clearly through his fur. He stood slightly crouched, but it was clear he was easily a foot bigger than any man Kemly had seen.

“Are you going to turn me?” Kemly asked grimly.

This finally got a pause from the wolf. “Turn? Oh you mean that nonsense they feed you in the Shore. No, I just don’t wish for you to die.”

“But why?” Kemly asked, completely thrown by what it was exactly this wolf tried to achieve.

The wolf merely grunted. In his paw he held a clutch of leaves that resembled holly, which he took a bite out of. Kemly watched, wondering, as the wolf chewed and grimaced, if this was some hallucination his mind conjured while the panther tore open his throat.

The wolf crouched in front of Kemly and he tensed up, the furry body quickly eclipsed his while that muzzle hung before him. Those green eyes flicked to his before their owner gagged, and spat up a paste of plant matter onto his wound.

Kemly shuddered as wet-warm mush was pushed into the wound. It felt numb almost immediately, the pain ending and replaced with a warming sensation. He couldn’t help but wretch at the thought of it.

The wolf, furred thumb rubbing the paste in, said, “I don’t like this either. My mouth is going to taste like clove for the next week, but I don’t exactly have a mortar and pestle with me.”

“Is… is your spit going to spread the curse?”

“Tsk, quiet about this curse nonsense,” the wolf told him, a growl edging into the command. “You’re going to be fine, but I don’t recommend going back into town until the wound is healed.”

“I’ll die out here alone.”

“I can take you back to my den and keep you safe,” the wolf said, finally stopping his rubbing. “We will wait until the poultice is dried and then leave.”

Kemly shook his head, “I’m not going with you. You… you’re…” Kemly wanted to say monster, beast, the cause of so much pain in his life, but fear strangled the words. Truly, he was too scared of provoking the wolf.

The wolf’s ears flicked and turned just slightly to the left. He said, quieter than before, “If you try to go back in the village as you are they’ll kill you because they think you bear a curse.”

Kemly shook his head. “It was just a panther, they can’t—”

“Do you really believe that?” The question hung between them, and in that moment, Kemly heard voices moving through the forest. The wolf growled, “We are out of time—”

“Help!” Kemly cried out, making the wolf snarl before he fled the clearing. His departure was nearly silent, and by the time humans entered the clearing he was long gone. His bleeding had been staunched, and the pain became a burning numbness. He still felt weak when two men came upon him in the clearing. They both held spears with unstrung bows and quivers slung over their shoulders. Hunters.

They stopped when they saw Kemly and Kemly said quickly, “A panther did this, I swear. Not a wolf.”

One hunter took a step forward but the other, older with a thick beard, grabbed his arm and asked, “You’d stake your eternal soul on it?” The curse didn’t alter only the body, it started with the spirit, damning for eternity those turned. It was why his mother begged for death immediately after being hurt by a wolf.

“By the Church of the Spirit, and the souls of my parents I promise I’m not going to turn.”

But the spit of that wolf did coat his wounds. What if that was enough? Quiet about this curse nonsense, the wolf had told him. Dismissive like Kemly was a child. Why had that wolf wanted to save him anyways? Why wouldn’t it just turn him and take him bound back to his den till the transformation completed?

While Kemly struggled with these thoughts, the hunters discussed in whispers what to do. The bearded hunter told him when they finished conferring, “We’ll take you back to the Shore. If you start to turn or try to run we’ll gut you. We’re going to take that pitiful catch of yours for payment.” He motioned with his spear to the dead squirrels still strung together on the ground.

Kemly grit his teeth but didn’t protest. It was a mercy they didn’t kill him on sight. The beardless hunter, a younger man closer to Kemly’s age approached him and knelt down to check the wound. “Did you apply this yourself?”

Kemly nodded. “Had to chew it up myself to do it, but yes.” Kemly of course lied. Mentioning a wolf at all right now might end in Kemly’s death.

“How long you been out here?”

“Since they opened the gates,” Kemly said.

“Bad luck friend,” the young man said. He grabbed Kemly under the elbow and helped him stand.

Kemly stamped his peg on the dirt. “Used to it by now.”

“Heh, I suppose so. Names Carrow, you?”

“Kem,” Kemly said, smiling. The gesture felt strange on his face, he did not remember the last time he smiled. Carrow smiled as well, he was taller than Kemly by a whole head. Clean shaven and young faced, sharp lines to his cheek and jaw all ending at a beakish nose. Kemly forgot himself a moment in the other man’s smile. He looked away at the older hunter who shared the same nose and said, “Thank you both.”

“Don’t thank us yet, boy,” the other hunter said. “And don’t get friendly round a Marked, Carrow. You’re asking for bad luck with that.”

Carrow grimaced for Kemly. “You can walk just fine?” Kemly nodded. Carrow turned to the other hunter and said, “Why don’t you stay out and I can take him back, uncle?”

Carrow’s uncle scoffed. “When he might turn on you?”

“I was attacked by—”

“It’s fine uncle,” Carrow cut Kemly off. “We can’t let a handful of squirrels count for our game today. Just mark some trees so I know where you are when I come back.”

Grumbling, Carrow’s uncle assented.

When they got out of the clearing and some paces away from Carrow’s uncle, he asked, “I’ve seen you around the settlement before. You’re one of Lady Bough’s kids, yeah?”

Kemly chewed on his lip before he answered, “Suppose I was raised one. I been trying to live on my own since spring, though.”

“Church not for you?”

“Lady Bough is like family to me, but…” Kemly hesitated. “Folks look at you a certain way when you’re life is like mine was. I didn’t like the way they looked.” Kemly didn’t know how better to describe why he left the shelter of the church. If he went back and did petty work like fix up the roof in winter, help clean up after services, etc. Lady Bough would make sure he was cared for. Its where he ended up after he lost his foot and mother. But it was not where Kemly wished to return. People in town treated him like he was stupid and weak. Like he was less than human.

“It’s rough out on the Shore,” Carrow said quietly. Kemly sensed something withheld in his voice that told him the young hunter understood Kemly better than he thought.

In the distance, they heard the rhythmic thunk of axes and the songs of the logging crews.

Kemly chose to change the subject. “How long have you lived here?”

“Moved out with my uncle about four years ago, you?”

“I was born in Shore’s Edge.”

“Oof, you’ve lived a real rough life then, haven’t you?”

“I suppose. I don’t have much to compare it to. The years with my mother weren’t too bad. Neither were the ones with Lady Bough.”

“The wolves take your parents?”

Kemly said, “It wasn’t a logging accident that got them killed.”

Carrow grabbed his elbow and Kemly stopped. He faced the other man, who paused then said, “Your tunic’s ruined. Let me buy you a new set of clothes when we get back into town.”

Kemly pulled away. “Why do you want to help me?” First the wolf. Now the hunter. It was rare anyone did anything out here for simple charity.

“I… hmm…” Carrow studied his face quietly a moment. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“No.”

“Not everyone thinks the Marked are bad luck,” Carrow said before touching Kemly’s cheek with a finger. “And I think you’re—”

Kemly slapped the hand away. “I’m not some whore.”

“I wasn’t—”

But Kemly shoved him back and started walking to Shore’s Edge. That was a common fate for the Marked as well. In fact, the big reason he left the church was to get away from someone who tried to corner Kemly into believing it was a fate Kemly should accept.

Carrow did not follow him. Kemly’s cheeks were flushed and he nearly cried, trembling as he broke out of the forest. He didn’t even notice the men with axes. It was not uncommon for other men to lie together, especially out here when there were simply more men than women. But Kemly swore he’d never let anyone touch him that way again.

He made it all the way to the gate before someone stopped him. A rough, gauntleted hand snatched his arm with enough force to bruise. “Halt, Marked. What happened to you?”

“I was attacked by a panther,” Kemly said, trying to tug his arm free without even looking at the guard who grabbed him. “Some hunters saved me.”

“A panther?”

“It wasn’t a wolf!” Kemly snapped, facing the guard now. The man wore chainmail and a helmet made of beaten iron. In his other hand was a spear with a much finer tip than the ones the hunters had wielded.

The guard asked, “Who said anything about a wolf, boy?”

“What’s going on?”

Kemly turned and saw a slim and tall man dressed in fine robes, dyed blue with the imperial logo: the fiery crown of a roc, stitched on its front in golden thread. It was the town mage, Raysh Lyon, who led a train of guards and some servants carrying something in large woven baskets.

“This Marked is trying to enter the village after he got attacked by something.”

Kemly said quickly to the mage, “It was just a panther my lord. A pair of hunters saved me. I left them in the woods, they’ll vouch for me I swear.”

Raysh didn’t even glance at Kemly. “Just kill the boy where he stands. Don’t waste time on this.”

“No!” Kemly yelled. “I’ll go, I’ll leave and head for the forest.”

“The last thing the wolves need is another member in their ranks,” Raysh said.

This was all some terrible mistake. He looked out to the forest. The guards on the palisade would have clear shots with their crossbows, and who knew what the logging crews might do to him.

With all his might he ripped his arm free of the guard’s grip and sprinted into town. As much as Kemly could sprint with one good leg. Shore’s Edge was a crowded settlement, and it was easy to weave between building and get out of the line of sight of any guards. Behind him he heard shouting, and in his panicked state he ran blindly. He wove between the dirty, waste strewn alleys of lodgings. He blazed across the settlements single wide street of smooth, flattened earth. But he did not run fast. His stride small and his blasted foot made it impossible to outrun the guards, he only had the head start of surprise while his shoulder wound reopened and bled pain and red across his front.

They caught him halfway across the town, between the single tavern and the doctor’s clinic. A guard tackled him and Kemly fell screaming and thrashing. He punched and clawed at a chainmail hauberk ineffectually until the man on top of him pinned his arms above his head. “Please, I’m not going to change I swear—”

Kemly heard another guard running up while the one over him said, “We’re doing this so you can be at peace. Please calm down.”

The other guard brandished a spear to gut Kemly when a voice called out, “Stop!”

The tip of the spear quivered in the air like a hummingbird considering a flower.

“What is the meaning of putting a boy to—Kemly!” A tall woman with blonde hair tied into a bun approached. Her long cloak dragged across the dirt, her feathered collar tossed in the wind against her neck. It was Lady Selbough, leader of the Church of Spirits in Shore’s Edge. Kemly felt a flood of relief—he should have ran straight for the church.

“Lady Bough,” one of the guards said differentially.

“Release the boy, he is one of mine,” Lady Bough said, her voice crisp and sharp as winter air.

“But he’s carrying the curse,” the guard with the spear protested.

“I was attacked in the forest this morning by a panther!” Kemly snapped.

“Is this true? Are you willing to stake not only your soul but the safety of this settlement on it?” Lady Bough asked.

“Yes, my lady. I am certain.”

A semi-circle of onlookers had formed around the four of them as Lady Bough said, “Let the boy on his feet, can you not see he is bleeding? Morlen, fetch Doctor Braydion for us, will you?”

One of the people in the crowd moved to the door of the doctor’s clinic nearby, while from down the street a set of guards marched up, their armor and boots clinking while the crowd parted for the soldiers. Kemly heard Raysh say above the noise, “Well, is he dead? This nonsense has gone on long enough.”

As the crowd parted, Lady Bough stepped so she stood between Kemly and the approaching mage. The two guards still leered over him, the one still straddling his waist only just now letting go of his hands.

“Sir Lyon,” Lady Bough said, announcing her voice to make clear her presence, “It is a pleasure to see you outside your workshop.”

“A pleasure to see you too, Lady Bough,” the mage said as he approached. Behind Lady Bough’s cloak, Kemly could barely spot the mage as the two decided his life without, he realized, any input from him. Raysh said, “It seems you are protecting that Marked despite his clear danger to the settlement.”

“He is one of my children, and I will see to it his life is protected. The church teaches us that we must be stewards and protectors of all life, Sir Lyon.”

Raysh scoffed, “And my commission from the emperor tells me to prize this settlement’s stability over the life of one single boy.”

“He does not carry the curse, there is no need to take his life.”

“You believe what he says?” Raysh asked. “I always assumed you were charitable, not naïve Lady Bough. Anyone would lie to avoid death.”

Lady Bough’s balled into a fist a single, gloved hand before she said, “No one in this settlement would choose their spirit being consumed and turned to a wolf over death. We have watched time after time people offer themselves up to be freed from their bodies rather than succumb to the curse. I believe this boy would do the same as his mother and father both did, and if you wish to run him through then first your steel will need to pierce me.”

Her promise of protection hung in the air more threatening than the spear still pointed at Kemly’s chest. It gave Raysh pause. Technically, the only person in the settlement who matched the mage’s authority was the governor of Shore’s Edge. But Lady Bough was the most visible leader of the community, and her word carried a weight even the mage could not ignore.

“Very well,” the mage eventually said. “I will not demand his death, but I cannot deny my role in protecting this settlement from the curse. He will spend the week in the stocks, and if he does not turn in that time he will be freed.”

Lady Bough nodded. “Very well. I can accept this.”

She could not deny his authority on things, and Kemly had to accept that Lady Bough put her life on the line to give Kemly even this. Lady Bough stepped aside, and guards collected Kemly from the ground.

***

On a raised hill in the center of the settlement was a gallows where public punishments were put out. By its side were a set of stocks for petty crimes, all empty today. Kemly let his arms and neck be placed in the wooden block before it was folded over and locked in place. Raysh left a guard at his side to kill him if he did turn, and Lady Bough saw to having the town doctor examine him and bandage his wound. The doctor did it reluctantly, worried Kemly’s blood might be contaminated.

Then Kemly stood. For days. Often his body simply passed out. Lady Bough made sure someone reliable, another of the Marked, usually, brought him food and water. But otherwise the long summer days went with their ceaseless heat. His head would pound from the constant sun, and his feet ached constantly. The pain became so extreme it made him nauseous and he struggled by the third day to keep any food inside his body. By the fifth, he wished the guards had killed him in the street. His body felt numb with aching pain.

He never changed into a wolf. He only thought how different things might be had he gone with that wolf. That strange creature who spoke his tongue and seemed to care only about his wellbeing. Townspeople passed him without paying heed. Children occasionally threw rocks at him. But otherwise the only gaze that fell on him was the late summer sun’s.

He didn’t remember when they took him out of the stocks. It was one of those times he had passed out. He remembered one moment counting out the blades of grass in front of him and the next woke in a cot, someone pouring water into his mouth.

Kemly shot up coughing before his whole body coiled with pain in protest of the movement. His clothes had been changed and someone washed him before he wound up… in the church. He recognized the smell of incense in the room next door. He lied in a small room in the back of the church with cots set out for those who worked and lived there.

Beside the cot sat an older woman with sun-wrinkled face who missed her left arm. “Good to see you awake, Kem.”

Kemly groaned and lay back. His tongue felt heavy and dry from lack of use, and he shut his eyes for even the candlelight of the room was too much for his headache. “I—mmphm… promise I didn’t plan to have you taking care of me again, Carrie,” Kemly said.

Kemly felt Carrie’s smile in her voice. “Yes, well, you get sick so often that our Lady can’t keep up with it by herself. Lady Bough says you were attacked by a wild animal.”

Kemly was in too much pain to think before he spoke: “A panther attacked me… would’ve died if not for a wolf.”

“Wolf?”

This voice made Kemly flinch and open his eyes. In the doorway stood Lady Bough, her cloak now gone as she wore clothes as common as the ones they redressed Kemly in.

“I…”

Carrie, still on her knees, backed away, spilling some of the water in the mug she held. Lady Bough said, “You say a wolf saved your life?”

“I… I…”

“I am not going to slice open your throat dear boy. It is clear by now you carry no curse with you,” Lady Bough said, sitting in a cot beside Kemly’s. She took his hand and said softer, “I am interested in your story, Kem. Tell me what happened.”

So Kemly did. While he relayed the tale, Carrie left the room to make tea for the two of them. Once Kemly finished, Lady Bough mumbled, “A wolf who speaks our language…”

“What do you think it could mean?” Kemly asked nearly at a whisper.

Carrie entered the room carrying a steaming mug on a saucer. She gave it to Lady Bough before the Lady said, “Carrie, be a dear and make sure nothing we say leaves this room.”

“Of course my lady,” Carrie said. “I’ll be right back with your tea, Kem.”

“Thanks,” Kem said. He did not ache quite as much as before.

As Carrie left the room Lady Bough said, “I do not know. But I would like to meet with this wolf.”

“What?”

Lady Bough put a hand up. “It is nothing you need to worry about, Kem. I cannot be gallivanting about the forest, but if you would, I would ask you to try and find the wolf who saved you again. I wish to know what it meant about the curse being nonsense.”

Kemly studied Lady Bough’s face a moment. He’d spent the last ten years under her care, and knew that passing across her face were plans she did not intend to share with Kemly.

“I don’t… I’m sorry Lady Bough but I don’t want to go back to that wolf.”

Lady Bough met his gaze with a pinched frown. She reached over and squeezed his knee. “I know you are scared, but I believe we can trust this wolf who saved you. I am certain if you returned to the spot of your first encounter he would approach you in goodwill.”

“Why me, though?”

“That is what I wish to know, Kem.”

Kemly frowned and said, “Lady Bough… I appreciate you saving me, but I’m not your boy anymore. I’m not going to wander back in the woods alone when I nearly got killed.”

Lady Bough patted his knee. “Just think on it child. You are in no rush to leave I hope? You Just woke, and I imagine after your ordeal you will need rest.” Lady Bough left the room, and Carrie came in her stead with an herbal tea, seeming to wait until the Lady finished speaking. Kemly found it hard to accept any more charity, but took the saucer from Carrie, knowing he was still too weak to do more than rest.

***

The next morning he slept in until song from the congregation woke him. He lost track of the days, but he knew it must be the Sabbath. He listened through the wall as the choir led the people of Shore’s Edge through a set of hymns. Kemly knew them all at this point, and knew the ones today were songs of thanks. Songs to honor the spirits of the world, who used to be on equal footing with humans till they gave up that power to save the human spirit. A common teaching: protect and nurture life so that the lives of others may nurture you.

Kemly thought Lady Bough could be a little more subtle in how she tried to pressure Kemly into helping her. The sermon went on for another hour, which Kemly listened to through the wall. Passages of scripture were read, Lady Bough relayed news of the settlement cast in the logic of the church. She rightfully took credit for saving Kemly, and also discredited fears of the curse. “Those fears should not keep us from helping those in need,” she loudly called, to which members of the church called back in response.

At the end of the sermon, folks began to file out of the church. The after congregation buzz slowly pulling out of the building until it became just a few quiet conversations. Kemly sighed and thought to try and leave today. Best to go before Lady Bough wrapped him up even more in her schemes. Even as he thought this, the door opened and in the lit doorway was Lady Bough again. This time she wore her feathered cloak, hair threaded with finely painted bones of various small rodents. She stepped inside, and following her was a balding older man.

“Kemly, you remember Dr. Braydion.”

Kemly nodded. “Took my foot to spare me from the curse.”

Dr. Braydion grimaced. “You were a boy, weren’t you? I think I remember. I done chopped off so many limbs in this town I’ve started forgetting folks faces.”

Lady Bough, taller than the doctor, rested a hand on his shoulder in a sympathetic gesture. “You saved their lives, doctor. You did the right thing.” She looked at Kemly before she added, “He is going to examine you before you leave today.”

“You’re letting me leave?”

“You wish to, do you not?”

Kemly nodded.

Dr. Braydion took off the shirt Kemly wore without much fuss from him. He fingered a few different areas around his body, checked his pulse and eventually asked about his pain. To which Kemly gave an honest answer of the aches from the stocks and also the tenderness of his now scarred shoulder. The flesh had healed over, but was puffy and a little risen, tender from the wounding.

After he finished his examination, Lady Bough asked, “Doctor, you would know better than anyone, but what causes the curse to spread.”

“Hmm… are you asking cause what they accused the boy of?” Braydion asked.

“Yes,” Lady Bough said while giving Kemly a look that told him to remain silent and listen.

“It doesn’t take much. We’ve had folks start to turn when a wolf just touched them. A scratch, a bite, just about any contact.”

“Their spit?”

The doctor scratched at his beard for a moment. “Why I guess so, though never heard no wolf hocking a loogie at someone before. But if the curse gets through their teeth its gotta have some effect, don’t it?”

Kemly had told Lady Bough about how the wolf mixed the poultice with his mouth. She let those words sink in, keeping her gaze locked on Kemly a beat longer before she said, “Thank you doctor. I will see you out.”

She left and Kemly reached under his shoulder and touched his scar. No changes had taken Kemly yet. He was, far as he knew, safe for the time being. Then what did Lady Bough want out of that exchange? What did Lady Bough know but did not want to share? Kemly felt a little nauseous at the thought that he did not know whether he carried the curse or not. Perhaps he carried it and it was only a matter of time before he turned… a slow walk towards oblivion.

The door reopened and Lady Bough stood with her cloak removed. “Now do you know why I wish to know more?”

“No, my lady. I’m… I’m confused what the point of all that was. Am I cursed or not?”

Lady Bough sat at the edge of his cot. “I do not believe you are. But there is no way to be certain unless we find the truth from the wolves.”

“Why would they tell us?”

“This one helped you, did he not?”

Kemly said, “Lady Bough, I can’t… I’m not going to get lost in the Thrush so some wolf might turn up.”

“Very well, I cannot force you into the woods now can I? You may leave whenever you wish. Feel free to ask Carrie for something from our larder so you do not leave on an empty stomach, but it is clear your path is one you wish to walk alone.”

“Lady Bough…”

“Am I wrong?”

“You’re not,” Kemly admitted without looking at the minister. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I’m not interested in returning to the Thrush anytime soon.”

“Of course, be well child.”

She patted his leg, and that was the last Kemly saw of Lady Bough that day.

***

Whether he carried the curse or not, Kemly was marked even more than before. The story of what happened coiled around the town. Carrow and his uncle had apparently shared their sides of things, Lady Bough hers, and even the dismissive mage. Kemly had nightmares about turning, but nothing changed. His body and mind remained whole, hungry and frail and in pain. And no one wanted anything to do with him. When he walked down the street folks crossed to walk across the other side. When he went looking for work, he was yelled out of places soon as they recognized him.

He had nothing. He wondered again if he should have stayed with the wolf… He hated that now seemed like the right choice in hindsight. He sat in an alley, belly grinding its walls together. The rumble unpleasant and painful. He was pondering out just what he could do when he heard someone say above him, “Oh, it’s you.”

In the entrance of the dim alley stood Carrow. “Heard you caused quite a stir when you got back into town.”

“What do you want?” Kemly said. “I’m not going to let you fuck me.”

Carrow flinched. “I get that. What are you doing sitting out here?”

“Starving.”

“Seems a poor way to spend your day,” Carrow said, coming into the alley and leaning back against the building opposite the one Kemly sat against.

“Shouldn’t you be out hunting or something?”

“There’s gonna be a storm pulling in. Uncle says so, so we came in early. No point mucking about in the rain.”

Just what Kemly needed. He said looking at Carrow’s scuffed boots. “It’s bad luck to stick around me, you know.”

“You really just want to waste away in peace, huh?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“That why you won’t go to the church? Sure Lady Bough’d take you back.”

Kemly had enough of talking to this fool. He tried to get up, but Carrow put a hand on his shoulder and said, “I’m not done.”

Kemly glared up at the young man, but even if he had his strength Carrow still was taller and bigger than him. He sat back down and Carrow knelt down in front of him. Kemly refused to look him in the eye. Carrow said, low-voiced even though no one passing might hear them anyways, “You got attacked by a wolf a week ago didn’t you?”

Kemly knocked his head against the wooden wall he sat against. “For the last time it was a panther who attacked me, I would have turned by now if—”

“Then why did I find the tracks of a beast in that clearing when I returned? My uncle saw them, too, after you left. Now we figured you’d turn and die and that would be that. But you didn’t.”

Kemly bit his lip. He wished that wolf let him die in that clearing. He told Carrow, “It was a panther, a wolf was the one who drove it off.”

Carrow didn’t laugh at him. He asked the same question that plagued Kemly, “Why though?”

“He didn’t stick around to tell me.”

“He? So he stuck around long enough for you to—”

Kemly blushed, thinking he might have saw a glance of—but it was not exactly something he remembered or paid attention to. “He spoke. It was obvious from his voice.”

“You speak wolf?” Carrow asked.

“He spoke us.”

Carrow rocked back onto his haunches and considered this a moment. He sighed and said, “You can’t be lying, because this is too crazy to be anything but real. Alright then, I want to run something by you.”

Kemly sat up a little straighter, more alert. “What is it?”

“I’ve got some coin stashed away. Stuff I’ve saved up over the years working for my uncle. You help me find and kill this wolf, I’ll give you that coin.”

Kemly studied Carrow for a moment. The handsome young man’s face seemed impassive, his eyes serious. “You’d just give it all to me?”

“The wolf’s hide will be worth more, but I’ve got enough coin you could live fat and happy for a couple months. Shit, you could take it and get out of this wretched place and see other parts of the empire.”

“And you swear? You’ll give me your word?”

“On the spirit of my sweet pa and ma,” Carrow said with a hand over his heart, voice mockingly sweet.

Kemly licked his lips. “I don’t know if I can find it.”

“I’m more interested in seeing if it will find you.”

“And you’ll just… kill it?”

“Lay a trap for it, yes. Thing won’t even touch you.”

Kemly had nothing to lose at this point. Far as Shore’s Edge was concerned, he should be dead anyways. Carrow was offering him a real chance at leaving. Starting over somewhere that didn’t discuss curses or leave people like Kemly to die in the street.

He reached out his hand to shake. Carrow smiled and clasped it before Kemly said, “When did you want to do this?”

***

They waited until the morning the next. Kemly and Carrow left together for the Thrush soon as the gate was pulled up. In the early dawn light, they might as well have been walking through the dark, but both men agreed the best way to lure out the beast might be to return to the same spot at the same time. Yesterday’s rain made the ground damp and muddy in places. The air had a sharp salt and cedar smell of the Thrush trees, but nothing stirred in the clearing.

Carrow carried his hunting gear along with climbing sling. He told Kemly after studying the canopy for a moment, “I’m going to take cover in that tree right there, see where those branches fork. When the wolf shows up, just make sure you’re not in front of him. A clean shot should be all I need, but even if he runs we can follow his tracks to wherever he goes.”

Kemly nodded. And watched Carrow, with practiced ease and athleticism, scale twenty feet up a broad trunk before he took his spot. He waited with his bow ready to be strung, spear resting across his lap.

Kemly knew he couldn’t just stare at the hunter, so he turned about the clearing. He was not sure what to do. He still thought the wolf finding him a fluke. So it surprised him, that even before he even worked up the nerve to call out, a voice came behind him in the trees: “Your trap won’t work, you know.”

This from a rumbling voice loud enough that Carrow heard. Kemly was too busy searching for the source of it to see what Carrow was doing, but heard the man curse above him. Between the trees in the dark, Kemly made out a shape and caught sight of two bright green eyes.

It didn’t matter if the wolf knew about Carrow, he just needed to draw the beast to him. He asked, “Why did you save me?”

“The Anesh told me, too,” the wolf answered.

Kemly’s brow furrowed. “The what?”

“Human’s wouldn’t understand when all you see is wood.”

Kemly shook his head. “Then show me.”

“Tell your friend to throw his bow to the ground.”

Kemly glanced up at Carrow, who nodded. He dropped the bow and his quiver, which rattled when it thudded to the ground. He still had his spear. The wolf walked into the clearing while Kemly stepped back. Now looking at him, he could see the beast stood over seven foot tall, with digitgrade legs and feet, paws big enough Kemly’s head could be crushed in them. His pointed muzzle twitched as he smelled the air. He stopped a few paces into the clearing, not quite far enough in to give Carrow a good shot.

“Do you really wish to know?” the wolf asked.

Kemly licked his lips and nodded.

The wolf took another step. He only needed to lean forward to grab Kemly now. From the periphery of his vision, he saw Carrow make his move. The spear’s tip was beaten iron, sharp enough to puncture deep when thrown into wood. Carrow’s throw was strong, but off. It struck the wolf in the shoulder, who spun at the blow. Kemly stumbled backwards while the wolf snarled, and struggled to take stock of the haft sticking out his shoulder, the end of the pointed blade pushing out the front of his shoulder. Carrow dropped from the trees, rolling when he hit the ground. While the wolf reached to pull the spear from his shoulder, Carrow scrambled to grab and string the bow on the ground.

Kemly watched back against a tree. He felt frozen. He did not want to touch the wolf or try to help Carrow when he carried no weapon.

The wolf ripped the spear free in an arc of fresh blood spilling from the tip. Carrow managed to string his bow and nock an arrow when the wolf faced him, swinging his spear. The blade of the spear caught Carrow’s bow and threw it from his grip. Kemly felt like he watched a nightmare unfolding in front of him. The sudden blow to Carrow’s bow snapped the string out of place. In one hand he still held an arrow, which he tried to brandish as a weapon before the wolf.

The wolf glared at Carrow a moment before he said, “I won’t kill you.”

Carrow’s took a step back and said, “You mean to turn us, then?”

The wolf tossed his head back in a laugh. “Fucking fools. Here, hunter,” the wolf said before he snapped Carrow’s spear in half and tossed the pointed half out of the clearing. He turned to Kemly next. Kemly winced before one long arm reached for him. It seemed to happen in slow motion, that grasping, pawed hand. Like he should have had time to move, to run. But he stayed still until the hand grabbed his arm and pulled him to the wolf. The smell of wolf, dusty and earthen in a way that reminded Kemly of a warm hearth, filled his senses before he was held in front of Carrow.

When the wolf’s teeth descended, Kemly nearly screamed. His face went pale in a gasp that reflected Carrow’s while the wolf’s muzzle closed on Kemly’s shoulder, teeth breaking cloth then skin. Kemly wanted to cry.

The wolf then released the bite, letting blood begin to pour down Kemly’s unscarred side. He said, “Come back to this spot a week from now, hunter. You will find the human unharmed and your curse an empty threat.”

“Carrow…” Kemly whimpered. “Kill me… please…”

“Carrow hmm? Leave now Carrow, or I will kill you. You can have this one back in a week.”

Carrow, leaving his bow and quiver on the ground, backed out of the clearing wide-eyed. Kemly screamed for him before he turned and ran. Kemly fell to his knees, crying.

“Please, quit acting like a child,” the wolf said. “Will you walk with me or must I carry you back to me den?”

“J-just kill me.”

“Aneshkabar, boy. Calm down.”

Kemly had no idea what he had said. None of it seemed to matter. He trembled and groaned while his blood flowed, thinking of his mother, begging in the street to be put down. The wolf, quietly, collected the small human in his arms. Kemly felt dimly aware that the wolf’s fur was soft. The wolf started carrying him out of the clearing, Kemly feeling all the world like caught prey while the wolf quietly ignored his pleas.

They walked for such a long time Kemly last track of how far they went. He calmed down, feeling sick but unable to find a way to escape, he sheepishly let the wolf carry him farther away from Shore’s Edge. The wolf tried at one point to speak to him, but Kemly refused to say a word. Kemly only noticed they had begun traveling up a slight slope when they came to a stop at a wall of rock. An escarpment in the forest rose up nearly to the height of the surrounding trees, and in the stone face was a cave, just smaller than the room Lady Bough held church services. That room could hold thirty or so comfortably, but often held fifty or more crowded into the room. This cave, just an open wall traveling deeper into the rock, housed no one but the wolf.

At the back of the cave a pile of furs from various hunted creatures rested. More towards the front, a fire pit made of stacked, flat stones, had been built. Firewood was stacked beside it, no logs, just wood scavenged from fallen trees.

Kemly felt himself set down in the cave next to the fire pit. Now out of the wolf’s arms, he noticed the cave wall covered in dyes. He stared a moment at the bright colors displaying Shore’s Edge with a sun rising over it. The details became less distinct before fading entirely once a certain spot of the cave was reached, as if still in progress. Like the final product would depict a scene first facing the settlement before one turned and spun towards the forest.

The wolf noticed him staring. “You like it?”

Kemly blushed, and looked down at the floor. He noticed a set of earthenware and wooden bowls in front of the cave walls, stained with dyes and paints the wolf had mixed inside them.

The wolf grunted and sat down, “How is your shoulder? I did not mean to hurt you too badly, though I was a bit annoyed with you.”

Kemly touched his shoulder, the bleeding had stopped. He looked up and noticed blood clotted in the fur around the wolf’s wound. “What about you?”

“It’s already healed up. When we are surrounded by the Anesh, wounds like these never last long. That’s why yours closed so quickly when that panther attacked you.”

“Anesh?”

The wolf pointed out the cave. “You call them the Thrush trees. But their spirits are just as strong as yours or mine. So we call them the Anesh.”

Kemly swallowed a lump in his throat. “So… how long until I feel a wolf’s spirit start to take over mine?”

The wolf shook his head. “What is your name?”

“I…”

“Give me your name and I will tell you.”

“It’s Kem.”

“Very well, Kem, I am…” he paused, and shook his head, “I cannot remember my first name right now. Call me Illeb.” Illeb paused, but if he expected Kemly to exchange pleasantries, he merely waited in silence. “Alright, then, your spirit is intact and whole, Kem. There is no curse.”

Kemly shook his head. “Don’t lie to me—I’ve known people who turned.”

“Oh it is possible to turn a human to a wolf, but it’s not wolves doing it,” Illeb said. “Believe me… I know first hand.”

Kemly gasped. “You-you used to be—”

“I came with the initial settlers to Shore’s Edge. I was one of the first the mage turned.”

Kemly scooted backwards. “No… no the wolves had to have turned you.”

Illeb’s gaze flicked to Kemly’s missing foot before he said, “I know you must have suffered much from those who believe the curse but—”

“No! Shut-up!” Kemly snapped. “They killed my parents to protect them from the curse. You mean to tell me that they… they… just were killed for no reason?”

Illeb sighed. “I’m sorry, Kem. But yes.”

Kemly felt so broken by the words he wanted to attack the wolf. But he knew, knew in the weight of the wolf’s gaze and all the insinuations Lady Bough had made to him… he knew the wolf did not lie. He felt sick. The sound of his mother begging for death rang in his ears. He bent double and dry heaved. Only a few slick traces of bile spilled on the cave floor. Illeb watched him, unmoving while Kemly shook until he found something, grief deep inside him welling up. He sobbed, which turned into a groan before he crumpled to the ground and quietly cried into his arm.

A weight rested on his back, firm and warm. Illeb said quietly, “You have nothing to fear, you’re safe.”

Kemly didn’t respond, he cried till his throat and chest felt dry and cracked like droughted dirt. The wolf patiently rested a single hand on him, thumb rubbing up and down between his shoulder blades. Once he reached that point of cracked earth, Kemly found anger and reached for it with all he was. He sat up, and hoarsely said, “What is it then?”

Illeb cocked his head. “The curse?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not sure. What I remember is being bound and tied, the face of that mage as he did some ritual on me before I was beaten and cut up. They left me lying out on the street, and when I woke I started to turn.”

“How long ago was that?” Kemly asked.

Illeb shrugged. “I cannot say. I… my memories of when I was human have almost faded to nothing. I can’t even remember my name. But over a decade certainly.”

“Aren’t there other wolves like you?”

Illeb grimaced. He said, ears flattened back, “I… I am no longer welcome. I have been living alone for years now.”

Kemly, strangely, felt an ounce of sympathy for the beast. “I understand that…” his hand unwittingly traced down to his leg folded against him and squeezed the peg there. “I’ve had people care for me, but I’ve been alone most my life. Folks at the settlement think you’re bad luck when you’re marked like me.”

Illeb glanced out into the forest. “Perhaps the Anesh sent me to you because they sensed your loneliness as well.”

Kemly blushed and studied the wolf a little more closely. The trees didn’t quite approach the cave, leaving light able to pass inside. Illeb’s whiskers drooped in what Kemly now recognized as a frown. The auburn fur on his muzzle looked soft to the touch, and he remembered now being vaguely aware of how warm it had been when carried in the wolf’s arms. The shape of his muscular chest was obscured in scruffier fur that went from his clavicle down to his belly where it grew short till it reached… He looked away when he noticed that, feeling embarrassed for even looking. Definitely male. Definitely…

“Are you alright?”

Kemly said, “Yes… I just, I don’t know what to do.”

“I do not know, either. The Anesh simply told me where you would be and to keep you safe.”

“The trees did?” Kemly said, still not quite believing that excuse.

“The Anesh, they come in your dreams. You might hear them if you stay out here long enough.”

Kemly shuddered. “I don’t really like my dreams as is.”

“It will be alright. I’ve never heard of the Anesh acting cruelly to another spirit.”

“If you say so…” Kemly said, watching the trees as if they might sprout arms and faces.

“Are you hungry?” Illeb asked.

Kemly felt his stomach snap around nothing at that question. He looked around the cave, “You have food?”

“I will hunt for something,” Illeb said as he got to his feet. “Stay here. Predators won’t come near this cave because it has my scent, but I can’t protect you if you wander alone among the Anesh.”

Kemly nodded. He went from being cradled by the wolf to being set down in the wolf’s den. So only now did he notice the wolf’s scent again. It was… muskier than what Kemly smelt in the woods. Not a bad scent, just the smell of Illeb felt strangely heady here.

He watched Illeb leave, surprised by how on edge his absence made Kemly. Common sense told him he should try to run away, but to where? By now Carrow had told someone what had happened. If he returned, the guards were likely to unload their crossbows into him at first sight. His pegged foot made him all too easy to pick out from a distance, after all. Shakily, he got up and walked to the back of the cave before settling on the pile of furs there. The pile was big enough for the wolf to sprawl, so the bedding practically swallowed Kemly as he lied back in it. The smell of Illeb was stronger here, too. And without meaning to, he thought of the wolf again, his muscular arms, the shape of his abdomen beneath his fur, and between his legs…

Kemly cursed and sat up when he felt the stirrings of arousal. He scrambled out of the bedding, telling himself the smell of the place was messing with his mind. He went to the edge of the forest and sat in the dirt in front of a Thrush tree. One of the Anesh, Illeb might say. Kemly touched the tree, the bark a little damp and chilly from the night as morning still broke overhead. He felt nothing that said the thing was any more than another piece of wood. Sighing, he leaned his head against it and tried to figure out what exactly he would need to do to get back to Shore’s Edge.

His shoulder didn’t hurt, but the skin prickled with the wolf’s bite. Even if he didn’t turn and they let him into the settlement… what then? What would Lady Bough do with him, or the imperial mage who supposedly orchestrated this whole curse to begin with? Kemly never thought too far ahead, aside from fantasies about being born different, being unmarked. He’d been used to surviving day to day. He glanced back into the cave. Did he just live here now?

He heard a noise and started, scrambled back towards the cave. It turned out to be Illeb, who carried on his shoulder the body of a buck. He slung the antlered deer along the cave floor and Kemly noticed the deer’s throat had been torn open. Blood stained Illeb’s muzzle. He wiped it into the fur of his arm and said, “I will clean and prepare this. I hope you do not have a weak stomach.”

Kemly tried to smile but did not think it convincing when he joked: “Pretty sure I’ve not been squeamish since I watched them saw off my foot.”

Illeb grimaced. “Ugh, I’m sorry you had to experience something so barbaric.”

Kemly scraped his peg across the rock. “It’s fine. In some ways, we might not have met if not for… this I suppose.”

“Hmmph,” the wolf grunted, turning his back on Kemly to the deer. His ears twitched and Kemly briefly wondered what the other male was feeling. Illeb said quietly, “I’m certain an exiled wolf as a companion wasn’t worth the loss of your foot and being treated like you were diseased all your life.”

Kemly frowned. Hesitating a moment, he stepped next to Illeb and placed a hand on the wolf’s shoulder, which half-disappeared in Illeb’s fur. Kemly said, “I know we’ve just met, but you told me the truth about the curse, and freed me from that fear. Knowing the truth about what happened to me and my family… it feels like I can finally come to terms with that and… thank you. I don’t know what any of this means yet, but I do know I’m grateful.”

Illeb didn’t say anything. With a single, long claw he began to skin the deer. Against his leg, Kemly felt Illeb’s tail wag gently back and forth.

***

Kemly ate until he almost felt sick, but managed to restrain himself. After preparing the deer, Illeb quickly started a fire and cooked some of the meat on a set of stone slabs. Along a shelf of rock on the unpainted side of the cave were a set of bowls with a series of spices and herbs Illeb had gathered from the area. He even had salt taken from the bottom of a riverbed deeper in the Thrush. They ate well. Then Illeb walked Kemly to a stream on the other side of the escarpment where he could slake his thirst.

Illeb insisted Kemly tell him when the human wished to leave the cave. The wolf, Kemly realized, was more protective than expected. Kemly had assumed Illeb would treat him like a prisoner, but instead the wolf wanted the human to feel comfortable. They spoke more that day, sharing stories of their respective lives. While Illeb never mentioned what happened that exiled him, he spoke fondly of the wolf tribe that lived farther in the forest. They apparently took in every human-turned wolf, without the same reservations humans treated the Marked of Shore’s Edge. Kemly in turn told Illeb about his life, which the wolf listened to eagerly. Kemly came to understand that when Illeb turned, that process began to slowly rob him of all his memories of his past life, and that, in some ways, Kemly was returning some of that by sharing his own experiences.

By the afternoon, Kemly sat on Illeb’s bedding and merely watched the wolf work on painting his mural. It was delicate work. Illeb sometimes used a claw pointed with ink sharp as a quill, at other times a pawed finger, and at other times a few brushes made from his own fur. He explained to Kemly he learned the art before he was exiled. The knowledge of which became a balm for him as he used it to pass the time in his solitude. Kemly sometimes enjoyed watching carpenters in Shore’s Edge work, which felt the closest to observing Illeb’s craft. The wolf’s tail twitched, his ears flicked, and his fingers and claws quickly became stained in paints.

Watching Illeb work, all the stress of the morning—all the questions and uncertainty that plagued him—faded away. The two shared a companionable silence, relaxing into the scent of the wolf. He eventually let himself lie back into the bedding and quickly dozed off. A soft touch woke him, and when his eyes blinked open Illeb crouched over him. The light in the cave had faded with encroaching sunset. Illeb said, “I am going to the stream to wash off my hands. Would you like to come with me?”

Still a little sleepy, Kemly nodded and was helped up by Illeb. By the time they left the cave he shook the sleep off himself and asked, “How long was I sleeping?”

“Not long. I am sorry there is nothing I can have you do to pass the time.”

“It’s alright. Being Marked, I got used to spending long hours without much to do.”

A rumbling whine filled Illeb’s throat. “That is not a skill people should have to hone.”

Kemly shrugged. “It’s like I said, folks don’t want to speak to the Marked or have anything to do with them. It’s okay, and I’ve not been bored here. It’s been more peaceful than I expected.”

They walked along the rock face till they reached a point in the escarpment where the rise softened and made for easy climbing. Illeb said quietly, “I’m glad to hear that. For what it is worth, Kem, I do not think you are a bad omen. I am happy to have your company any time.”

Kemly blushed and stepped to the rock face to start scaling it and so Illeb could not see his face. He said as he climbed, “Thank you… if I’m ever able to go back to Shore’s Edge, I’d like to visit you still, I think.”

They made their way to the stream in silence. Kemly took a long drought from the clear flowing waters before he watched Illeb clean his hands. Tangles of color floated on the surface of the water and spilled down the hill the escarpment made. When they finished, Kemly said into the silence, “I never thanked you for saving me.”

Illeb, who just got a drink from the stream, wiped off the water dripping from his muzzle before he said, “I’m happy I did, you don’t need to—”

“Thank you,” Kemly cut him off. Shaking a little, he stepped forward and grabbed the wolf’s pawed hand. The palm dwarfed Kemly’s. He said, looking into Illeb’s surprised gaze, “I know you do not expect anything, but I promise I will find some way to repay you.”

Illeb searching look in the dark revealed little to Kemly, who was still getting used to the wolf’s body language: the twitch of his whiskers, the flick of an ear, that big hand closing around his. Then Illeb pulled him into an embrace. The wolf’s sturdy warmth, and his thick, chest fur enveloped Kemly’s face. He felt Illeb’s steady heartbeat against his cheek, gasping as the wolf wrapped Kemly in his arms. The surprised human tried his best to relax in the tight hug, but it was difficult for reasons he did not fully expect. The scent of Illeb was strong and inviting, and made Kemly want to burrow his face against the wolf’s fur more to smell it. But he didn’t, afraid what that would mean.

He was grateful, when Illeb released him, that it was dark enough to hide how red-faced he’d become.

The wolf crouched so they were face to muzzle before he said, “Kem… your company is enough for me.”

Illeb’s breath, Kemly idly thought, was warm against his face and didn’t smell unpleasant at all. Not like a dog’s as he expected. It was the clear mineral smell of the stream he just drank from. Inviting in a way that made Kemly’s chest flutter. A feeling he only got a few times in his life.

For a moment, both males just stared into each other’s eyes. One set warm and relaxed, the other alarmed and searching.

Kemly stepped back on his peg leg, into the mud, which sank under his weight. By the time Kemly recognized he was falling, a large pawed hand wrapped around the small of his back and caught him. Kemly noticed that hand spanned the entire width of his torso. Illeb steadied him and suggested, “Perhaps we should head back. If you get thirsty tonight just let me know. I can lead you here in the dark.”

“I…” words Kemly never spoke before bubbled to his throat without warning. He choked on them a moment then swallowed the lump in his throat before he said, “Thank you, Illeb.”

The walk back they took in what was quickly becoming a comfortable silence they shared easily between each other. As they walked, Illeb leading, Kemly couldn’t stop himself from admiring the wolf’s back. The powerful muscles along his shoulders, the dimples in his back where the fur there dipped ever so slightly. Kemly wanted to run his hands through Illeb’s fur, but the thought of what that meant, what he would be asking for… Men had their way with Kemly before. They were rough, painful couplings Kemly barely found any enjoyment from. Since he was Marked, none of those men considered him worth more than a body to use to get off. Often whether he liked it or not. So it scared him to know, whether he liked it or not, that his body did long to touch and be touched by Illeb. These strange, quickening feelings, all for a creature who treated Kemly with a dignity and courtesy he never experienced before. A wolf who made Kemly feel like a human being instead of some accursed thing.

Sheepishly, they both agreed to split Illeb’s bedding in half. They dragged a pile of furs beside the firepit, and Kemly slept there while Illeb slept in his usual place. The nights were still warm, so Kemly had no trouble falling asleep. The bedding softer than most places Kemly slept the last few years. He drifted off to the sound of wolves calling, much closer than he was used to hearing them.

***

Lady Bough sat beside her crackling fireplace. She lived in a small stone and thatch cottage behind the church. It was a single room building with a writing desk, bed for one, the fireplace with chairs set out for taking guests. Kemly felt strange standing in the doorway to her home. Lady Bough seemed frail in the light of the fire. Usually her lithe body and slender limbs carried a weight and sharpness of steel, but now they seemed like iced over branches, ready to snap at any moment.

Kemly cleared his throat, but she did not look up from the fire. She said, “You kept me waiting.”

Kemly’s voice came strangely lower than it normally was. “I do not need to keep to your schedule.” He walked inside, the sound of his steps off. On the wood they thumped-thumped instead of his peg’s steady clunk.

Kemly stood over Lady Bough and said, “So you think you know the truth. You would believe the word of some deranged hunter and wolf over—”

“I asked you here to merely talk, Sir Lyon.”

“I have more important things to do than speak to some mouthpiece for the church. I have come to make sure you understand something,” Kemly snapped. “You will not sow doubt about the curse. If you do, I will see to it you wake in the forest surrounded by a pack of wolves yourself.”

Lady Bough shook her head, still watching the flames. “Your lies, the ones I unwittingly fed, have caused so much suffering, have they not? You and I, we owe the people—”

“We owe only Emperor Balamot our service.”

Lady Bough finally met what Kemly recognized as a glare on his face. She said, “I will not cause more unwarranted suffering for your schemes.”

“Then you will be replaced,” Kemly said, before flicking his gaze to the fire. He spoke a word that felt foreign on his tongue and traced with a finger a line from the fire to Lady Bough. The flames leapt onto her lap. Lady Bough cried out in alarm, which turned into an anguished scream as fire consumed her whole body. The feathers of her cloak burned bright green as they went up in flames. Kemly turned and walked out as the whole cottage began to burn to the ground. Lady Bough’s anguished cries reminding him so much of his mother’s...

“Kem! Wake up, Kem—”

A shocked yell flew out of Kemly’s mouth and the big wolf over him flinched backwards. Illeb squeezed his arm and said, “You were having a nightmare. Are you okay?”

Kemly nodded weakly. A nightmare? At the base of his left leg, where the wood joined flesh, his old wound ached so much he grit his teeth. Illeb ran a few gentle fingers down his back, trying to soothe the human. He asked, “Is your sleep usually so troubled?”

Kemly, with Illeb’s help, weakly sat up. The wolf sat on his knees beside Kemly, and rested the human against the wolf’s side. His fur rubbed warmly into Kemly’s cheek while the wolf’s arm wrapped around his other side and hugged him close. He took a deep breath, remembering the way Lady Bough looked at him: like she knew Kemly was about to kill her. He shuddered and pushed himself deeper into the wolf’s side.

“There, there,” Illeb cooed. “We don’t have to talk about it if you wish to just forget it.”

“It was just… so real.”

Illeb’s grip tightened on Kemly. “What did you see?”

“I was… the mage at Shore’s Edge—Raysh. I went to Lady Bough’s home, my old caretaker. And after talking about the curse a moment, she said she wouldn’t lie about it, and then Raysh set her on fire and she… she burned to death. Screaming…” Kemly couldn’t say any more. He was trembling and struggling with nausea.

Illeb told him, “I don’t believe what you saw was something that came to pass, but I do think the Anesh were giving you a vision.”

Kemly looked up at the wolf, who was only a dark silhouette in the night. “A vision?”

Illeb nodded. “When I saw you attacked by the panther, they showed you attacked without me helping. They were showing me what would happen if I did not intervene. The Anesh don’t share visions without wanting you to do something, Kem.”

“I…” Kemly hesitated. He could do nothing here. He looked out into the forest and thought what it meant that the Thrush wanted him to return to the settlement. He wrapped his arms around Illeb’s waist and hugged him, and said what he felt, “I don’t want to leave you.”

Illeb tensed up a moment, then relaxed and returned the embrace. “I don’t want you to leave, either,” he said, his chest rumbling against Kemly’s cheek. “But if you wish to keep Lady Bough safe…”

Kemly cursed. A part of him wanted to say Shore’s Edge could be cast off into the fire the way they cast off his severed foot. But Lady Bough staked her own life to save Kemly’s only a week ago. He owed her the same, though he was not sure what he could do.

Kemly squeezed Illeb tight and looked up at the wolf. “I’m going to come back to you, as soon as I can.”

“Kem…” the wolf’s jaw hung open. He licked his lips and swallowed before he said, “You… thank you… I’m glad you want to return. I’ve felt this kinship to you I’ve not been able to explain… I…” but whatever he planned to say caught in his throat whenever Kem reached up and touched his cheek.

Kemly’s heart raced and his ears burned. Like in the nightmare, it felt like someone else made the words come out of his mouth, “I won’t be able to return until the morning when they open the gates. Till then, I have an idea how I can start making things up to you.” His body felt out of his control, as he stood on his knees, the hand at Illeb’s cheek wrapping to the back of his head and pulling his muzzle down.

The wolf’s lips were soft and warm, a little wet and tasting like his breath smelled earlier. When Kemly kissed him, the bigger male locked up, and Kemly thought Illeb might shove him away. But no, a whimpering growl came before one of those big, pawed hands cupped the back of Kemly’s head. Illeb’s lips pressed back and opened—his mouth pulling open Kemly’s smaller one before the wolf’s big tongue plunged inside Kemly’s mouth. It was nearly aggressive in its need, folding Kemly’s smaller tongue backwards. He was smooth and wet, and the taste of him… Kemly felt a little numb. His body heated up. Illeb tasted good, left Kemly shaking with need. That tongue teased Kemly’s mouth, Illeb’s lips working against his, head tilted with a seeming practiced ease. This was clearly not the wolf’s first kiss, and Kemly had enough stolen from him to know what to do, as well. But he was surprised when Illeb teased Kemly’s tongue into the wolf’s bigger maw. He traced sharp fangs, the taste of wolf practically overwhelming. Kemly realized this was the first kiss he ever wanted to return like this. He didn’t even know it until then, but it made his need all the more pressing. He moaned and his back arched, chest pushing into the wolf’s fur. Kemly wished his clothes did not keep fur from touching his skin. He wanted… wanted—

Illeb surprised him, falling onto his back and pulling Kemly down with him. Kemly lied across his big front. The act of falling broke their kiss and the two stared at each other, panting. Illeb managed to speak first, “You don’t… you don’t have to do this.”

“I want to,” Kemly said, and now he knew the words definitely came from him. That he wanted this. Wanted the wolf.

Illeb shut his eyes and leaned his head back. He whined before looking back down at Kemly. “I’ve not been… no one’s touched me in—”

“I know,” Kemly said, reaching up to run a hand along Illeb’s cheek again. “You’re afraid, aren’t you?” Illeb answered in a grimace. “Why?”

Illeb pricked the back of Kemly’s shoulder with a single claw. “I don’t want to hurt you. I’m really trying to hold back, Kem, but I want you so bad it hurts… wolves aren’t gentle and you’re so frail that—”

Kemly silenced him by resting a palm on the wolf’s nose. “I trust you, and I want you. If I get hurt, the Anesh will help heal me, right?”

“Kem…”

Kemly leaned down and kissed Illeb’s chest. His strong scent only spurred that warmth within Kemly. He didn’t fully understand why he was so drawn to the wolf, but it was like Illeb said: some kind of kinship bonded them. He exhaled, not realizing for a moment he’d been holding in his breath, full of Illeb’s scent. Kemly sat up and pulled his shirt away, kicking off his trousers next. He assumed that if he didn’t now Illeb might rip them off in the heat of the moment. He felt in the dark more than saw the wolf’s wide-eyed, hungry gaze on him. It made the blush on his cheeks crawl to his neck. His cock was erect in the night air, throbbing against fur while Kemly slid down Illeb’s front so he rested between the wolf’s legs.

There waited Illeb’s sheath and balls, the shape of them clear even in the darkness. The tube of flesh containing his cock was thick as Kemly’s wrist, and held a length of which Kemly couldn’t even guess at. He saw, glistening in the dark, a tip peeking from the sheath, which he reached for without any reservation. It was hot to the touch, Kemly felt its warmth even before his hands closed along that slick tip. Illeb whined and rolled his hips forward. More of that length spilled throbbing into Kemly’s hand and made him gasp. The sudden, sharp scent of wolf cock struck Kemly as Illeb let go of whatever restraint he held back and let his dick slide free. Kemly gaped, taking deep breaths of the wolf’s musk as his body longed for more without it even really occurring to Kemly what he was doing. He was entranced, leaning forward, down into Illeb’s crotch.

A fuzzy haze of pleasure blanketed Kemly’s head. His peripheral vision seemed to fade away while his face hung in front of that shaft. Breathe in, breathe out. The positively male scent made Kemly ache. He watched the dark red flesh throb only a moment before a large hand closed around his head and shoved him down. The wolf’s sheath fluids smeared against Kemly’s cheek while Illeb growled and ground his cock along Kemly’s face. Kemly kissed that shaft, which turned into a full on lick to a long moan at the sharp, heady taste of wolf cock. Men had used his mouth before but nothing felt so potent. Felt so raw and strong and right. Any hesitation left in him was snuffed in an instant. He dragged his tongue along the surface of that smooth, canid cock. His hands cupped Illeb’s balls, barely able to heft each large nut in his hands. The fur there was a little oilier with his musky sweat.

Though any cock worship he wished to give was cut short when Illeb snarled and shoved Kemly off. The wolf moved fast, pinning Kemly on his belly in the furs. Illeb leaned down, licking Kemly’s ear before he said, “I can’t wait any longer Kem.”

Long, hot licks trailed down Kemly’s back, making the young man gasp and squirm before they reached his tailbone. Sharp fangs nipped the skin there while those large hands grabbed his ass and squished the flesh in pawed palms. Two thumbs spread him, revealing his tender rim, which quickly clenched when a wet nose pushed against it. The wolf’s tongue pushed into his perineum before it dragged to his entrance. Kemly whined when another lap followed before that muzzle pressed explicitly against his rim. He raised his hips into the kissing and licking muzzle. Illeb gorged himself on Kemly’s ass, eating like he’d been starved as Kemly was earlier today. Had it really just been a day? Already he surrendered his body to the wolf’s touch and a small part of Kemly now no longer worried about the future because—

Kemly bit down on the furs when that tongue penetrated him. Animal hides smelling richly of Illeb’s musk muffled some of Kemly’s groan. It took only a moment’s yielding before that tongue wriggled deep inside him, thick as four of Kemly’s fingers. It searched deeper than his fingers ever could though, spit and saliva slid along his upraised ass while the wolf pushed his tongue in and out. Kemly felt sharp fangs tease the skin there and realized Illeb had his mouth half opened to push his tongue deep as he could. Illeb’s head bobbed lightly while his tongue dug around inside Kemly, working the human over until the pleasured ache in his asshole was matched by a tension in his balls. He grabbed fistfuls of fur and worked his hips back and forth, sliding his cock against the soft furs, edging his dripping shaft closer and closer to its own orgasm.

Before he reached it, however, Illeb pulled away, letting Kemly to moan weakly at the wolf’s absence. Illeb loudly licked his chops behind Kemly before a single big hand planted itself in the furs over Kemly’s head. The wolf hovered over him now, entire body blanketing Kemly’s. The smell of Illeb’s need stained the air and left Kemly wanting, ready to submit to the wolf, whose cock tip teased against Kemly’s rear. Without exchanging words, Kemly raised his ass a little, reaching backwards and spreading himself. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, but his heart beat so loud it raced in his ears.

With his free hand, Illeb positioned his canid dick to Kemly’s entrance.

Kemly never took anything so big. When that cockflesh caved in his rim, he nearly pulled away at the pain, but he had nowhere to go. He gasped, which turned into a grunt before he bit his lip to silence himself. His entrance, slick with spit, burned at the entry of the wolf’s endowment. It split him open in a way no male had before. Yet Kemly was no stranger to this pain, so he bore it, breathing heavily through his nose and taking in Illeb’s comforting scent. That scent, which made him want to yield and submit. His walls yielded to the firm spire of flesh, the wolf snarling over him. Illeb’s cock was smooth and slick from its own fluids. Despite its size, it descended easily into Kemly a little bit at a time. The wolf teased his hips back and forth, and every deeper motion opened Kemly up more steadily as the pain began to fade. A languid sigh escaped his lips as that fullness started to feel good. Numbing pleasure seemed to fill up his tunnel while Illeb stirred him up. He lost count of the minutes. Gently, he would work back onto Illeb’s cock when he brought it forward. Kemly grew hotter and hotter. That fullness worked down to just below his navel, and when he reached down he noticed the slight bulge there. Illeb had stopped, panting. His heavy balls hung against Kemly’s skin with a firm mass of hot cock flesh, much wider than the rest, pushed up against his entrance.

Illeb growled, his cock flexed inside Kemly. The human moaned in response, trying his best to grip down on the intruder. Illeb said through grit teeth, “I… I won’t—Kem I’m going to fuck you now—I can’t wait any longer, Kem. I can’t—”

Kem, panting, reached up and grabbed the back of Illeb’s neck. Craning his head up, he met the wolf’s eyes and told him, “Do it…”

The wolf’s snarl was so violent Kemly thought Illeb might bite him. He yanked back and ploughed in. Kemly let go of Illeb and his head fell back into those furs. Already he felt a little senseless. One sharp thrust turned into two, then three. Kemly struggled for breath. Kemly felt dazed and stupid. Kemly unable to think beyond the fullness inside him and the cock stroking in and out quicker and quicker until it became a fast, even pace. Heavy balls slapped against his thighs while Illeb fucked him into the furs. Already on edge, and with a massive wolf cock filling him up, it took no time at all for Kemly to cum. The furs rubbing against his shaft pulled his foreskin forward and back as Illeb fucked in and out, and soon the human arched his back and moaned weakly. Cum made the rubbing more slick for his cock, which soon felt too stimulated, painfully so while seed spilled into the fur. But Illeb just kept fucking the squirming human, not even letting Kemly lift his hips.

Kemly was too weak to do more than whine and sink deeper into the pleasure. His rear felt warm and good as wolf cock filled it. Never had it felt so good before to get fucked. Any pain was entirely gone. All that remained was the pleasurable burn of his stretched rim, the feeling of heated fullness and that pressure rising along his shaft every time that cock jammed against his prostate. Meanwhile that knot beat against his entrance. Slick, warm pre pushed out around the shaft when it shoved in, and Kemly felt it slide down his taint and onto his balls. The smell of their fucking was sharp and harsh.

Then Illeb reached down and bit his shoulder a second time today.

This bite came much harder than the first. Fangs ripped open his flesh and Kemly screamed, back arching. It felt like he was cumming again but he couldn’t really tell over all the sensations flooding his body. His bottom half shook before Illeb pulled out. The shaft ground against his ass before Kemly felt it jerk. A thick braid of cum splashed across his back. The heat surprised Kemly enough that he forgot about the bright pain of Illeb’s bite, but even that puncturing felt full of pleasure. A rumbling growl traveled from Illeb’s muzzle to his shoulder while cum spilled in thick rivers across Kemly’s back. The rich, hot scent of wolf cum did set Kemly off again, and his cock fired weakly into the furs. Kemly couldn’t believe how hot with need his body burned just from feeling the wolf’s seed on his skin. He wondered, then, how it might have felt had Illeb finished inside him.

By the time cum ran down across most of Kemly’s back, the flow of Illeb’s balls had tapered off. The wolf released Kemly’s shoulder, making the young man gasp. Illeb gently licked his wound, the wet warmth of his tongue soothing before Illeb turned Kemly over. Kemly’s back did not rest on the messy furs long before Illeb pulled the human back onto the big wolf’s front.

Kemly rested his head against Illeb’s chest, while the wolf stroked down his sticky back. The cave still reeked of cum, but for now both seemed sated in their needs.

Eventually Illeb broke the silence: “I hope I did not hurt you too much.”

Kemly nuzzled into the wolf’s chest fur, stroking along his side for a moment. He said, “I’m… it’s hard to describe... Illeb, you’re the first person I’ve done this with where I feel only happy afterward.”

“What do you mean?”

Cringing a little, Kemly admitted, “The Marked don’t really have a choice when we are taken.”

“Kem…” a deep exhale shook the wolf as he struggled with what Kemly admitted. “I’m sorry,” was all he managed.

Kemly rested his head against the wolf and said, “It’s okay, Illeb. I chose you. You’re the first person who’s ever cared about what—”

“Please, no more,” Illeb said, hugging Kemly in his arms. “I’m happy to share this with you, but I don’t want this moment sullied by anger.”

“Anger?”

“Could I, I would kill those who hurt you.”

Kemly shuddered in Illeb’s arms. The wolf spoke the words with the cold certainty Kemly had only ever heard from Lady Bough. Lady Bough... right. The thought of a world outside Illeb’s modest home seemed hard to believe. He said, “I promise I’ll come back. This is the first time since they killed my mother that I’ve felt connected to someone else. I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Kem…” the wolf whispered his name. “Thank you. Thank you. I feel the same. I promise I’ll keep you safe, come what may.”

Words stilled between them. The familiar warmth of their shared silence became a sleepy comfort. Illeb’s broad chest was warm and soft, the sound of his long breaths a lullaby. Outside the cave, the canopy of the Anesh rippled in a surging, cold wind. Tomorrow would be the first day of autumn.