How do you know me? I asked, peeling off my shoes and socks.
Adam had decided to judge this frail old man a possible threat. I could tell because hed taken a step back out of reach. He was standing guard, ready to do whatever the circumstances required, trusting me to handle the rest. Likewise, Id trust his judgment about the threat.
Our opponent might be an old man, but both Adam and I had lived around very old things that were dangerous. We wouldnt underestimate this man who smelled of tobacco, woodsmoke … and magic. It wasnt fae magic, so I hadnt noticed it right away. This was sweeter and subtler, though I didnt think it was any less potent.
Charles smelled a little like this sometimes.
The old man smiled at me and held the unguent pot.And how would I not know Mercedes Thompson who is married to Adam Hauptman, Alpha of the Columbia Basin Pack?
He did the not-lying thing very well. There are a lot of Other creatures who know when you are lying. Some of the fae, werewolves, some of the vampiresand me. The art of not lying without telling the truth is a valuable skill if youre going to have to deal with people who are Other.
He hadnt known who I was when he came into the trailer. But hed taken one look at me, and his surprised recognition had been genuine.
You know what I am, I said, suddenly certain of it. My heartbeat picked up with the excitement of it. He knew what I was and who my father had been.
Use that salve on your feet, he said. They look sore. He canted his head toward Adam without taking his eyes off me. Do you have something for an old man to drink?
Soda or apple juice.
Root beer? The old mans voice was hopeful.
Adam got a cloth out of a drawer near the little sink and dampened it. Then he opened the miniature fridge and pulled out the silver can and handed it over Gordons shoulder. He tossed me the damp cloth, then went back to his self-appointed observation post.
I wiped my feet. My calf was still sore, but it wasnt the bonedeep throbbing, and there was no itching. It felt like a rope burn and nothing worse. There had been some sort of magic on whatever had cut my calf, magic that the old man had nullified.
Im immune to a lot of magicbut not all. Usually, the worse the magic is, the less likely I am to be immune.
The old man opened his pop can and drank it down. He drank the whole thing without taking a breath. When I was a kid, we used to say anyone who could drink a can or bottle dry had killed it. Wed tried it a lot, but the only one of us who could do it was one of the older boys. Id forgotten his name. He died before I left Montanaa victim of the Change.
Gordon Seeker and I could bandy words back and forth all nightI grew up in a werewolf pack; I knew how to not-lie, too. However, sometimes straightforward was more useful.
Im a walker, I told the old man as I rubbed his magic Bag Balm on my feet. How did you know what I was?
He laughed, slapping his hands on his thighs.Is that what they call it? he said. After those abominations down south, I suppose? You dont go around wearing the skins of those you kill, do you? How can you be a skinwalker, then? Abominations. He hissed through his teeth, and the sound whistled a little as the air escaped in the gap where the tooth was missing.
Not a skinwalker but a shapechanger, you are. Coyote, right? Ai. He shook his head. Coyote brings change and chaos. His head tilted sideways, and he looked as though he was listening to someone I couldnt hear. I glanced at Adam, but he was frowning at the old man.
Gordon Seeker laughed.Better than death and destruction, surelybut those often follow change anyway. Very well. The eyes he turned to me were fever-bright.
He reached out and tapped my injured leg.River marked. It meant for you to be its servantgood thing for you that coyotes dont make good servants. But it means more than that. It tells me that tomorrow you need to go to Maryhill Museum. Enjoy the art and the furniture built by the foreign queenand then go see what they have in their basement. At noon, you meet my young grandson at Horsethief Lake, and hell take you to see She Who Watches.
I knew what She Who Watches was though I hadnt ever actually seen her in person. She was the most famous of the pictographs at Horsethief Lake.
The tours are only open on Fridays, commented Adam. At ten in the morning.
The old man grunted.Indians go anytime they want toit is our place. He tapped me. Shes Indian, no matter what she believes. My grandson is Indian. The two of them can take one Anglo wolf who belongs to an Indian coyote girl.
He stretched and tossed the empty pop can to Adamwho caught it. Time for this old Indian to go. He looked at me again. If you are going to use white mans words to describe yourself, avatar is more accurate than walker.
He took his bag and indicated the little pot with his chin.Better you keep that, little sister. A coyote will get herself hurt a lot if she runs with wolves.
And then he left.
Adam and I both waited, holding our breaths, but we heard neither footsteps nor car or boat.
After a moment, I shed my clothes and took coyote shapeand I had about one more change in me tonight. But it was better that I changed than Adam. He opened the door of the trailer and walked out behind me as I put my nose to the ground and scent-trailed the old man. Hed headed for the river and not the road.
I followed him down to the little backwater where Adam and I had played in the river. About ten feet from the drop-off to the beach area, Gordon Seekers scent and the imprint of his cowboy boots just disappeared. *
WHAT DO YOU THINK? WAS HE A GHOST? ASKED ADAM, as he scrubbed my feet again while I sat on the couch.
Id told him they were fine. But hed ignored me and insisted on cleaning them again after Id gone out running around on them, even though Id been on paws and not bare feet. It didnt hurt as much as it should have because the salve had healed the minor cuts better than any mundane Bag Balm could have. All I had left was a whole bunch of bruises.
I think that there is more in heaven and earth, Horatio, I said. I can usually tell if someone is a ghost. Or if I cant, Ive never found out. How about you?
He smelled like woodsmoke and predator, said Adam. He breathed, and I could hear his heart pump. If I had to guess, Id say not a ghost. But Ive never actually seen a ghost, so its just a guess. A ghost was the first explanation that occurred to me for his disappearing act.
Youve never seen a ghost? I saw them all the time, so I forgot how seldom other people could perceive them.
No. So what do you think Gordon Seeker was?
You know, I told him, theres an old Indian custom that Charles told me about once. If a visitor comes to your lodge and admires something out loud, you are supposed to give it to them. Charles says there are three reasons for the custom. The firstI held up a fingeris becausegenerosity is a virtue to be encouraged. The secondI put up another fingeris to teach you not to be too attached to or too proud of things. Family, friends, community are important. Things are not. Can you guess the third one?
He smiled.Charles told me that one. Be careful who you invite into your lodge. I didnt think of it until after Seeker was already in the trailer. Maybe he was the Indian version of a witch. Medicine man.
Charles says that medicine men and witches arent very much alike.
My leg itched, and I pulled up my pant leg and contemplated scratching.
River marked, said Adam, touching the mark lightly.
He was as bad as the fae, I complained. He didnt answer anything and just left us with more questions.