Palace of Wolves

Chapter 7

I’ve never been scared of flying; in fact, my emotions to the sensation couldn’t be more opposite. When I was younger I always wanted to be a bird; wings stretched out, gliding majestically over the tall, spindly tree’s around my home. Now, however the concept of becoming another species was a far less desirable notion and sitting in the crammed metal container several thousand feet in the air had a whole new level of fear. At least I didn’t seem as scared as Meera Aitkin who was escorting me back to the United Kingdom.

“This is a bad move,” she kept muttering, “If anything happens, with it these people are dead. Maybe we could push it out the door. Maybe—“

“Stop talking about how you’re going to kill me if I go all wolf crazy already! I’m absolutely fine, nothings going to happen.”

“Sandra, I know you love those werewolf stories but can you please stop quoting them in public.”

“What do you mean I—“I noticed the man beside Meera staring at us from over his newspaper, “Okay, I’ll shut up then.”

“Thank you.”

I stared out the window at the land below; it was kind of beautiful, gentle puffs of cloud below me, framing the greenness of Europe. What country was I above? Belgium, France? Wherever it was; I’d never fly above them, nor wander there streets again. I’d read up on Lycanthrope law, most countries did not allow werewolves to enter their borders –I would never leave Britain again. Meera was looking at her phone, scrolling through e-mails. I suddenly remembered I’d lost mine in the attack, what would my parents think. Oh God, my parents, I would see them in a few hours, what would I say? How would things turn out? My relationship with them would never be the same again. As far as 15 year old girls went I had a fairly good relationship with my mum and dad. Sure I didn’t tell them everything about my life but I didn’t openly tell them blatant lies.

“Meera, when you where my age did you hide many things from your parents?”

“Not much. Their brains worked in the same way as mine, constantly figuring things out. We always knew when someone was lying.”

“Okay, but you know about werewolves,” I spoke in a quieter tone, “Surely you had to hide that.”

“I had moved away from home by then. As I said I’m constantly figuring things out, you can’t keep a lie from me. When I was in university there was this group of students who always stayed together and no-one even knew what they were studying. I was curious.”

“What did you do?”

“ I stalked them for a bit; figured out the truth pretty quickly. They where the Lycanthrope Studies class.”

“What? That’s an actual thing?”

“Not officially.  But these students were studying a bit of Lycanthropology: History, Mythology, Law; all that kind of stuff. Most of them were werewolves and they always tend to stick to themselves.”

“Did they find out you knew about them?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

“I enrolled in extra classes for Lycanthrope medicine.”

“Oh. Anyway, when you say they stick together, is this some sort of pack thing? Will I need to join a pack? Is that what the Palace of Wolves is?”

Meera laughed. “Of course not! Packs don’t exist, you’ve been reading too many werewolf books. The Palace of Wolves is just a name for the full moon centre in Glasgow.”

“Oh. So these werewolf stories that Josie keeps getting me to read. They have absolutely no truth.”

“Who’s Josie?”

“A friend of mine.”

Soon we stopped talking and I focused on the in-flight movie. It was a cliché romance that I usually would have hated but I tried to stay interested.  Soon I ended up nodding off and the next thing I remembered was Meera shacking me.

“Sandra, we’re landing soon. I need to give you something before we land.” She held up a badge, identical to the one the bus man had worn on the night of the full moon. The same silver ring with upturned V in the centre; the same sense of familiarity nagged in my mind.

“But I can’t touch silver.”

“It’s steel; completely safe. I’ve told you already that werewolves need to be marked out, you’re going to have to wear this at all times.”

I took her words for truth and took the badge. True to her words I felt nothing, only cold. I pinned it to my shirt. I looked down out the window. The landscape of green was dappled with darker green patches of green woodland but as I looks I began to see grey, dim shadows of it deepening into a pale centre. Glasgow. From this height the grey was all I could see of the city. The grey was slate rooftops and the flat tops of tower blocks, one hundred thousand homes. This was my new home, but where in this sea of metropolis was my new home. In fact, no, it wasn’t. My new house was there but it was only bricks. It was walls to keep me warm and a roof to stop the rain but not home. Home was at the other side of the country; up a twisting scarcely used road by the woods and a fast flowing strand of the River Dee. It might sound beyond cheesy but home was where the heart was and it would never belong to Glasgow.

“See there where the river bends the most.” Meera pointed, “That is Barrglen, where you’ll be living. it’s a decent enough area, or so I hear. Your parents have already handled the moving, they where advised to do so in order to try and not think about your condition.”

My parents. What would I say to them? I would see them in a few minutes. What would I say? How much would things have changed between us?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Here's the new chapter! It's finally starting to get into the main part of the story. I spent ages thinking up where exactly in Glasgow to set it so I eventually made a fictional town my mashing up the anmes of extisting towns to form "Barrglen". 

This chapter is dedicated to infinityandbeyond371 because of the awesome comments she left yesterday.

Once again please vote and comment