been quite the shaker, emotionally speaking.
I’d never seen so many people laughing and crying at the same time, on that fateful day…
“She’s doing much better,” Ben replied. “She still has nightmares sometimes, you know. Waking up in the middle of the night, terrified that we’re all gone.”
“Hasn’t Corrine been able to help in any way?” Tristan asked. “Some potion or herbal remedy, perhaps?”
“She did offer her assistance,” Ben explained, a smile testing his lips. “But River wants the recovery to be as organic as possible.”
Rose sighed deeply. “She’s incredibly strong.”
“I, for one, can’t believe how she pulled through,” Sofia replied.
“The same could be said for you, actually,” I said. “I mean, you suffered quite the loss yourselves.”
Sofia and Derek exchanged glances before looking back at me. “I think we were too busy worrying about everyone, including the rest of our surviving family, to fully comprehend what we were dealing with in that moment. By the time Seeley revived all the fae, our mindsets changed, completely.”
“But enough about that nasty day,” Rose interjected. “Tell us, how was your Amazon trip? I heard you did another short one last month.”
I nodded enthusiastically, my brother already lighting up like a Fourth of July fireworks show. “We spent some time with the hybrid tribe. It was impressive,” I said.
“Oh, right, the human and werewolf tribe, near the pink water cave,” Derek said, a fascinated smile spreading across his face.
Somewhere to our right, Amane and Ridan had shown up, watching Amal as she finished checking the supply bags, before handing them over to Dmitri and Douma, who then carried them into the shuttle.
“Yes. The synergy there is unbelievable,” Tristan said. “The humans have not had any contact with civilization as we know it. They’re extremely isolated and reclusive. In some instances, they’ve been known to be quite hostile to outsiders. But it wasn’t the case with the werewolves. It took a few years for the whole pack to settle there, though.”
“How so?” Derek replied, genuinely intrigued.
“From what the werewolves told us, it started with one of their younglings. The pack had chosen a campsite of their own, a few miles north of the tribe. They didn’t want to be around cities and other settlements, preferring wilderness instead. So, one day, the cubs were out with an elder wolf, learning how to hunt. One thing led to another, a doe went deep into the jungle, and, before they knew it, the cub got lost.”
“Didn’t they track him?” Dad asked.
“They did, but they lost his trail at the river. The cub wandered for a while, too young and feeble to hunt or survive on his own. He was only six at the time, and he’d never been out on his own like that,” Tristan continued. “Eventually, he stumbled upon the human tribe. At first, the kid was understandably worried, so he kept his wolf form to himself. The tribespeople took him in, fed him, cared for him.”
“Until the next evening,” I added, “when the boy shifted into his wolf form.”
“That was the biggest surprise,” Tristan said, smiling as we both remembered the werewolf’s account of that experience. By the time we’d met him, he’d turned sixteen. “He’d worried the people might want to hunt him or kill him, but they didn’t. They kind of worshipped him, actually.”
He went on to tell them about how the pack eventually found the cub after a few more days, having been held back by some serious rainfall. The Amazonian tribespeople had welcomed them all with arms wide open, and they’d reached an incredible relationship, which, in turn, had led to a more complex society. With the wolves doing most of the hunting, the humans could focus more on gardening and crafts, upgrading their homes and establishing a small but still isolated settlement at the river’s bend.
“What are they like?” Derek asked. “The humans and the werewolves, now living together.”
“Peaceful, but definitely protective of their haven,” I said. “Tristan and I spent days studying them from afar, understanding their social relationships and customs before we engaged them; and even then, they were quite thorny at first. They cherish their little space, and they don’t want anyone disturbing it.”
“Speaking of pink water… Are there still unhatched eggs in there? You know, Shills and whatever else the Hermessi had planned to use against our people?” Derek asked.
“No. I mean, the eggs are there, but they’re covered in a thick layer of crystal,” I replied. “I reckon they’ve gone dormant since the ritual was stopped—the