One memory stood out: Sakhmet and Enkidu were sympathetic. I could talk to them, maybe even get through to Kumarbis. I remembered him looking at me. He was so hopeful.
After a quick stretch I got dressed. They’d cleaned up the deer haunch while I’d slept. Some blood remained smeared on the floor. It smelled dirty and rotten now, not at all appetizing.
I curled up on the floor, resting my head on my bent arm, trying to think. Kumarbis had spoken for a long time, so that all the words ran together. He’d been telling stories, I thought, stories that I would have loved to hear, but in a foreign language for all that I could tell. It was all fuzzy, growing more fuzzy by the moment.
Even if Tom hadn’t been able to look for me or get help, Ben would be on the warpath by now. He’d call Cormac, and Cormac was a professional in hunting down werewolves. Between the two of them, they’d find me, I was sure of it. I beat down any arguments to the contrary before they could bubble into my awareness. They’d find me. Among the hundreds of abandoned mines scattered in the m+;wceshountains, hundreds of miles from anywhere …
And what would he tell my mother? Was it Sunday yet? Mom usually called on Sunday, updated me on the whole family … my dad, my sister, her kids. They must have known I was gone, they must have been so worried about me. I didn’t want to get wrung out from crying, so I squeezed my eyes shut and didn’t cry.
I must have fallen asleep again. I hadn’t meant to, and I didn’t like what it meant. The exhaustion was getting to me, I was losing energy. It wasn’t that I was giving up. But sleeping was so much easier than trying to think, when my brain hurt and my heart ached.
The door scraped on stone. My eyes were closed, stuck together almost. I thought I was dreaming, but my back and shoulders were stiff from sleeping on the ground; the feeling was visceral, not at all dreamlike. Footsteps padded, and I smelled Sakhmet and Enkidu. I took far too long a time gathering myself, opening my eyes and struggling to a sitting position, not even able to get to my feet before they were standing in front of me. My reflexes were dull, my awareness drained. That was probably the point. They were wearing me down, slowly. My anger over it had become dull and distant, like an old bruise.
Sakhmet knelt, putting herself at my level. Condescending, I thought. She wasn’t worried about me being dominant or putting herself in a submissive position compared to me. I was the prisoner, we all knew it.
“Your wolf is very beautiful,” she said, smiling kindly.
Part of me warmed to her. Of course, I wanted to say. Sometimes I thought Wolf was the most beautiful part about me, sleek and wild, full of strength and focus.
Instead, I muttered in a dry, croaking voice, “She’s also really pissed off.” Sakhmet revealed another bottle of water, which I accepted. It was like she knew exactly what I needed. Creeped me out a little.
I took a long drink, which seemed to clear my mind, and splashed some on my face, which cleaned out my eyes and woke me up. My anger settled. I could see the pair of them a bit more clearly.
They stood shoulder to shoulder, totally familiar, not just comfortable with each other, but drawing comfort from the other.
“How much do you remember?” Enkidu asked.
I knew what he was asking—how much did I remember from being Wolf? Complicated question. After my latest nap, the memories were even more blurred. Or it could have been that everything was going blurry. I had to get out of here.
I shrugged. “You know how it is. The deer was pretty good. Thanks for that, I guess. But the rest—you came in here and talked. Kumarbis was explaining something. Wolf wasn’t interested in listening. You guys maybe want to fill me in?” Hey, it was worth a shot.
They glanced at each other, exchanging one of those telepathic married people secret messages. Sakhmet looked away first. “I told them you wouldn’t remember. Our animal sides—speech is like the chatter of birds to them.”
“My wolf understands,” Enkidu said. The edge in his voice seemed due more to frustration than to anger. He had shadows under his eyes, as if he hadn’t been sleeping. Sakhmet just looked tired, slouching. “I’ve worked hard, to make sure I remember what my wolf sees and hears. I thought you would be the same—that your animal side would hear better.”
He said this as an accusation, but I was+;wceshn’t rising to that bait. “My Wolf understands when friends are talking,” I said. “She listens to her friends.”
Sakhmet leaned close to whisper to him. “She has no reason to listen to us.” He bowed his head, acquiescing.
I licked my lips and spoke carefully, testing words. “He’s asleep, isn’t he? Kumarbis. It’s daylight again. You only come to see me like this during the day.”
“He doesn’t want us speaking to you at all, when he isn’t here,” Sakhmet said. “He wants you to learn from him.”
“Why? What hold does he have over you all?”
“He is right,” Enkidu said. That simple.
“You’re all nuts,” I said. To their credit, they didn’t argue with me. “Look, I can’t play your game if you don’t tell me the rules, and I can’t buy into your little cult if you don’t convince me you really have some kind of power. Beyond kidnapping radio personalities and cutting yourselves off from civilization. And those aren’t powers,
