The Keeper of Wolves

Chapter 4

It began as whispers. Little snatches of conversation here and there. Passing comments. Meaningful glances. Silly jokes. They weren't really thinking of, or considering, unveiling all preternatural life to mortals. That would be preposterous! Unheard of. Unthinkable. Wildly dangerous and irresponsible. It would result in the deaths of them all, for certain. So they shook their heads and carried on with their days, cursing humans the entire time, but feeling just a bit lighter for the jest. It was a nice fantasy, you see: a lovely fairytale to entertain for just a few moments. What it would be like to be truly free, living without fear, out in the open for all the world to see. It was a grand idea, one that would unfortunately, have to remain a dream for now.

Things were bad, though, and getting worse. Small factions of creatures had begun to rebel. A small coven of vampires in a backwater Washington state town had revealed themselves after attacking a teenaged girl; a pack of werewolves in Australia had decimated a nearby town during a full moon; a group of rogue witches in France had boldly stepped forward showcasing their abilities and denouncing what they saw as inferiority to humanity. All of them were easy enough to write off individually as lunatics, but Kosazana and her family and friends felt the tension rising. They were scattered, leaderless, unorganized, and outnumbered: but that didn't seem to be enough anymore. Fear had taken a backseat to ire at long last.

"America is a shit show," a visiting vampire by the name of Tyr grunted as he stepped through the doorway at Meliz's invitation. Kosazana nodded once in acknowledgement to him. She had only met Tyr once or twice before, knowing him primarily as an abrasive, but good-hearted friend of her mother's. Linwe met him with the traditional gestural greeting of her homeland, and then showed him to their sitting room, where all four of them found places to rest while Tyr brought news of other lands.

"That blithering idiot we've got in office has finally commented on the uprisings in Washington, Australia, and France," Tyr began, settling his tall, broad frame into an armchair and knocking his waist-length brown hair over his shoulders. Kosazana had always been impressed by his bearing, and had asked her mother where he hailed from, given his stature and power. He was from Norway, her mother had revealed, where great height was as common as it was here in the Amazon. Linwe had then told her many stories of the ancient Viking people, to whom Tyr belonged, while she listened with rapt attention. When her mother had spoken of the Vikings' reverence for women and respectful demeanor, Kosazana could not help but giggle. Tyr had always been modern, loud-mouthed, and crass around her family. Linwe had wryly grinned and conceded that Tyr had certainly adapted well to modern times, but that she still trusted him with her life and safety. It had been good enough for Kosazana.

"That's never good," Meliz sighed. "Every time he opens his mouth, something stupid falls out."

"I've tried to put a bullet in him twice," Tyr groused. "I'm a damn good shot, but I just can't get close enough. He's got too many other people trying to kill him, security is ridiculous."

"Tyr, how has the fallout been?" Linwe gently prompted.

"Bad," Tyr muttered. "My local Council has been scrambling trying to figure out what to do. Our main options are the same as everyone else's: mobilize, hide, or flee. None are looking great right now."

"We need worldwide conference," Linwe sighed, leaning back into the couch and propping her chin on her fist. Elbow dug into the arm of the couch, she let her other hand rest in her lap as she thought. Tyr waited for her to ensure she was finished before adding,

"One of our witches had the same idea. Her name is Isabelle, and she's a damn smart woman, and if anybody was going to be in charge of this mess, I'd rather it be her. But I don't know if she's got the charisma to pull it off. She's too logical and too action-oriented."