Twilight of the Wolves Read Free Page B

and threw his head in all directions. The music of trees and the breeze, the fall of a leaf, and the howl of wolves but nothing more. Back inside,the child’s screams weakening, the woman humming, he said, Chenoa?
    Lit from below by fire, from the right by moonlight, her hands trembled and her voice was thick, Just a boy. Just born. Couldn’t more than a moon turn.
    Latching the door, he kneaded the bridge of his nose and sneezed.
    Come to bed, she said, Help keep the boy warm. She lay down, the child in her arms.
    Out the window, the village slept and the moons did not speak.
    Chenoa watched the curious boy with fair skin and black hair whose eyes were ringed with gold. Smiling and laughing, smaller than the other children, his face flat rather than rounded, he ran with the others. When they stopped from exhaustion, the other children poked at his skin, pulled on his hair, asking why he was not like them. Chenoa’s boy was They and the village children were We. The adults smiled nervously, glancing at Chenoa.
    Sao is us, she said.
    The children all laughed, Sao included, and they ran hands over his face and awed at his colored eyes. The children called him stareyes and Sao clapped, and they ran off towards the forest.
    The women watched them go, then turned to Chenoa, all eyes upon her. Mai, short with wide hips and burgundy hair, spoke, Chenoa, we must talk.
    Chenoa stared hard at the women and men forming a half circle round her, separating her from Sao.
    Sao does not belong.
    Sao is us.
    We are not Sao, Mai’s voice was soft, her eyebrows bent in sorrow.
    Sao is us, Chenoa beat her chest. Our heart is Sao’s heart. Ourheart is Sao.
    Mai bit her lip and shook her head, Sao is not.
    Chenoa cast her eyes from face to face, all painted with sorrow but unyielding. She whimpered, the tears rising in her throat, Sao, Sao, Sao.
    Elsu stepped forward and placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. Pointing after the children, Watch them. Sao is not us. His voice contrite, compassionate.
    She watched Sao, a pale naked star running after his brown brothers with redhair. Smaller, weaker, different. The sound of running and Elsu dropped his hand from her.
    Wicasa appeared at her side, his hands hard but tender, holding her up as her chest sank deeper. Away, he said flailing his arm in Mai’s direction, then bent to Chenoa, Heart, what?
    Eyelids closed tight, tears slipped through and she turned her face to Wicasa with submerged eyes, Sao, Sao, Sao!
    Wicasa’s nostrils flared, eyes widened, turning to the others, his cavernous voice bellowed, Sao is us! Away!
    Elsu, tall and muscular, looked from Mai and the others to Wicasa. His chest out, jaw set, Wicasa cannot make children so steals one. Not us, he said undoing his topknot.
    Wicasa stared at Elsu. The laughter of the children danced round them, the bluesun casting their shadows longer, no one spoke.
    Wicasa stepped to Elsu, We—he gestured to Chenoa then flattened his palm against his chest—are Sao.
    The suns rose together in the east, the scent of summer strong, the world green and thick, tinted by the bright purple light. Chenoa found Sao naked at the river lying flat with his arms and legs stretched out.
    What doing?
    Sao opened his eyes, Chenoa, skin gets dark from the suns.
    Biting back tears, she lifted him into her arms. He wrappedhis legs around her, hands light on her shoulders, looking into her eyes with his blue eyes ringed with gold. Chenoa, he touched her eyelid, an inquisitive smile on his face.
    She kissed him and told him that she needed him to move so she could see where she walked.
    At the river smearing mud over his skin and leaving it to dry, Sao stared at the suns and then the moons until Roatag and Laska stood beside him. In the moonlight they took his hands and threw themselves into the river, splashing and squealing until parents came to separate the brown from the white.
    The Twilight Day, Chenoa sat with Sao in her lap and Wicasa beside at the edge of