Lone Werewolf Duology (bxb)

7. Family Reunion

"Volya," Nadezhda said. She motioned to the beach. Fog that clung to her figure trailed her arm like a cloak. "We need to talk."

They needed to talk? That was an understatement of the century! Millennium even.

Volya sucked in air through clenched teeth. "You bet."

His heart hammered so badly, he could barely focus on following the trail on the water. It would make for a wonderful first impression if he'd tumbled into the river on their first meeting. Did she even know that he'd crossed to the Island before?

But he was so hungry to behold her, that his eyes traveled away from the water to capture more details of his sister. His sister!

Some things about her appearance were pretty surprising, like she was wearing a pair of jeans with a light-blue t-shirt and an illegible logo. Or three small hoops in her right ear that looked totally modern. Her scent, however, was wonderful and exactly what he would have imagined it to be. Dry herbs, yarrow and something else, equally pungent and summery. The grass-woven bracelets that climbed round and round from wrist to the elbow also felt right.

Volya walked after her as if in a dream, splashing water with every step until they got to the sandy strip. Once there, Nadezhda turned, raked one hand through the air. The curtain of the billowing fog fell, hiding away Damir who stood at the water's edge, slack-jawed. If only Volya knew how simple it was to shut off the world....

He must have winced, because Nadezhda's lips curled into an apologetic smile. "Sorry about leaving your friend hanging. I have a lot to say to you, and it's for your ears alone. Come here."

"I'll... I'll make up to him later." A friend was small potatoes. Volya had once chased Liam away, dropping the curtain of the same impenetrable mist between them.

Nadezhda walked to where the patch of sand looked dry. Three statues, covered in the familiar runes, towered over it. In him, they stirred awe. She settled in their shade cross-legged and gave him a weary glance. Him, next to the idols storing loads of spiritual energy. Fine, if that's how they did things around here, who was he to argue with the locals? Volya lowered himself on the ground.

"You know who I am." It wasn't really a question. He just wanted to hear the word brother. He wanted her to call him that.

"Uh-huh," she said. "What you should ponder instead if you know who you are."

With the sacred oak trees rustling overhead, and the ancient statues all around them, Volya didn't need to reach too far for the answer.

"I am of the Walkwe," he replied. "And I'm your twin brother."

"Walkwe... you call us Walkwe." She studied him for a long moment. "You can only see the events of the past, right?"

"Only? Nobody else had ever suggested that it was insufficient. In fact, I'm lauded for my talents."

"Just answer my question. Kramola will track us really soon." Urgency suffused Nadezhda's voice. It prevented Volya from asking who this Kramola was, but the name sounded bad already. Kramola. Dissent.

"Yes, I can only see into the past." He dug his fingers into the sand, wriggled them to form little tunnels, then let the grains run through.

"How far into the past?"

"To Akrum and Naktim." He looked up at her, suddenly conscious that the names wouldn't necessarily mean something to her. Like what did he know or care about Prince Oleg the Forewarn and his likes? And they had lived a hot minute ago compared to his father.

Nadezhda slowly tipped her head like yes, she'd heard of them. "So it's true. You have the Memory. I have the Sight."

Oh, he had the genetic memories. No shortage of them. He dreamed them in technicolor. The trick was accessing them on demand. The Sight, though? His father kept saying how he wasn't a shaman without the sight. Assuming they were on the same page... "So you are a shaman?"