legs. He gazes up at me, his eyes solemn.
“Papa? Is there danger?”
I move toward the door. “No danger, moj skarbie. Stay here and protect your mother, yes?”
“Balen, you shouldn’t,” Carys whispers frantically. “Leave them be. Maybe they’ll just move on.”
I open the door and step out into the late summer air. Maybe they will, but I want to see that they do.
There’s no one near the cabin that I can see or scent. The vegetable garden is growing nicely, and the raspberry canes that Finley and I planted—or I planted while he played in the soil—are heavy with fruit. I move a little way down the path toward the wood pile.
And catch a sharp, unwelcome scent on the breeze. Wolfskins. Not many, but even one who isn’t Finley is one too many.
I don’t have to go far before I see them. Two adults, and two cubs. A family. My fingers ache from the pressure of claws that want to burst forth, but I stand still and watch them as they move among the trees.
They come toward me and shift into their human form. It’s a man and a woman, and they smile at me. The pups stay pups, their paws and ears too big for their bodies and their fur tufted. They seem tired, but play with each other and sniff the wildflowers.
“Hello,” calls the man, still smiling. “We thought we could smell a bearskin and we wanted to introduce ourselves. We live down in the valley.”
“Then you should have stayed in the valley.” Behind me, I hear Carys” footsteps as she comes out of the cabin to listen.
The wolfskins gaze at us, their smiles dimming. Finally, they back away.
“You folks don’t like folks. That’s fair. We’ll leave.” The man turns to take his mate’s hand, and they move away, shooing the pups ahead of them.
He’s a dozen feet away when Carys calls, “It’s not that we don’t like company. The last pack who lived in that valley were dangerous.”
The woman turns back and grimaces. “We heard about them, and that someone finally cleared them out. Good riddance to that pack. They caused nothing but trouble.”
“They did, and they took some clearing,” I grunt.
The man’s eyes widen. “That was you? What would possess you to take on a whole pack?”
“They were after my woman.”
The man glances at Carys. “A skinbearer, is she? I’d take on a pack to protect my family, if it came to it.”
Carys reaches my side and takes my hand. My fingers are stiff in hers. I’m not convinced that I can relax.
“I hope it never will,” Carys says, and nods at the pups. “That’s a lovely family you’ve got.”
The woman breaks into a smile. “Thank you. That’s Hilda, and that’s Aksel.”
I study the pups. Hearing their names, they shift into human forms. They’re both Finley’s age, or perhaps a few months older. Finley hasn’t started to shift yet; it takes a little longer for the offspring of skinbearers, but it won’t be long. The two children wave at Carys and me, and then go back to playfighting with each other.
“I’m Sonya, and this is Ulf.”
“We’re Carys and Balen,” Carys says with a smile. Then she looks over her shoulder and calls through the door. “Finley? Would you like to come out and meet some people like you? There are some wolfskins here. They’re new to the valley.”
I’d rather not reveal that we’re raising a wolfskin to a couple of strangers. I watch the man and woman closely, my eyes narrowed for any sign that they might suddenly grow hostile. Ulf doesn’t seem to notice anything strange about Finley, but halfway through greeting him, his face freezes. I get ready to charge forward and protect my family.
“But he’s a wolfskin. That’s wonderful! There aren’t any other wolfskin children Aksel’s age around here.” Ulf kneels down next to his little boy. “Would you like to go and say hello to Finley?”
Ulf and Sonya smile at me. Me, a bearskin and known wolfskin killer. They’re so trusting, and I’m so suspicious.
Aksel walks up to Finley and gives him a little wave. “Hi. I like your mountain. It’s pretty up here.”
“There are salmon in the stream. Want to see?” says Finley.
Aksel’s face brightens. Wolves love fish as much as bears do. “Yeah!”
The two boys hurry down the path to the stream, where they lay on their stomachs in the grass and swipe at the water. Their words are lost among the bubbling and splashes.
Carys has gone back in to get