Morningstar: The Malaise - 8. Chapter 8 Hiding In Plain Sight

The Malaise

Chapter 8

“Do you see patterns all the time… like, constantly?”

Kellar was startled by the question. Watching the trees go by as Tobyn drove, and running through his checklist for closing up the cabin, he’d just concluded everything was taken care of. “Colors? No. I can turn them on and off.”

“That’s interesting. So you see the way others do when you turn them off, same as the vision you were born with?”

“Yeah, except when I look at someone for the first time; I always see their aura, but then I flicker it.”

“Flicker?”

“Sounds strange, right? I don’t know how else to say it though. It’s more or less automatic to me. There’s no need to keep seeing them once they’re fixed in my memory banks.” Kellar smiled at his new friend, wondering how it really sounded to someone hearing about all the aspects of it for the first time. Tobyn looked over at him with curious hazel eyes, and still, Kellar saw no judgement in them.

“You should stop thinking you sound weird or strange, because you don’t. I’m in awe of what you’re able to do. Man, think about it… you’re better than any doctor. So many times they don’t have any answers for what’s wrong with the people who go to them.”

Kellar didn’t know what to say to that. Tobyn’s faith in what he could do, worried him. “I may not have all the answers either,” he uttered softly.

“Hey, I didn’t mean for you to feel pressure. I’m hoping you can help Adelin, and if you do, that’s great. But Kellar, I don’t expect you to suddenly cure what’s wrong with my pack. I’m not expecting any miracles, okay? Not for Adelin or the malaise.”

“Okay.” The words were comforting, and genuine, but Kellar could read the hope in the man. There was an underlying protective feeling that showed itself whenever he mentioned his pack. There might be no pressure from him, but there was lots Kellar was putting on himself. Seeing this guy happy had somehow become a priority in his life, and there was no way he wanted to let him down.

“Can you tell me… what are Adelin’s symptoms?”

Tobyn looked out his own window before answering. “She’s weak. So weak she can’t shift, although that’s becoming more common in the pack. She’s pale, like, as a ghost, and when she walks, she tires easily. It’s hard to watch. Her appetite is practically non-existent, and she throws up constantly, even with hardly anything in her stomach.” He looked over at Kellar. “Does that tell you anything?”

“How long has she been this way… with symptoms this severe?”

“Oh, man… for months and months, and she gets worse with every week that goes by. Her skin looks translucent now… that’s recent, and you can see her veins through it. Tilly’s really scared. Those two are as close as sisters can be. It will be devastating for her if….” Tobyn’s words trailed off into silence.

Kellar experienced a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach at hearing Tilly’s name, and felt ashamed for it. He had to get a grip. He’d already admitted to himself he was attracted to the guy driving. In his almost twenty years, he’d never held such a fascination for any other person. It was a reaction that had been almost instantaneous. As soon as he’d caught his scent and followed his progress to his driveway, and then on to the woods, his interest had been engaged. The man’s colors intrigued and confused him, spoken to him, like none before ever had.

Carrying someone so incredibly handsome, pretty even, from the blood-stained granite to his bed had cemented a very powerful desire. His need for a connection with the sandy-haired man was almost overwhelming. The feel of him in his arms had awakened something, and he was certain it was there to stay. It had been a huge struggle to tamp down the worry the injury had invoked. It wasn’t often he felt panic, but he did that day. He’d never healed a shifter before, and some doubts had surfaced on the trip to his cabin. He belongs to someone else, so don’t go there... clue in…the man asked you a question.

“I’m sorry, but it doesn’t sound good; the illness I mean. I’ll do my best to help your girlfriend’s sister.” Tobyn gave him a funny look, and Kellar worried he’d given something away in his tone because he thought he’d kept his face expressionless. Maybe not. “I’m getting kind of hungry,” he commented, more to change the subject than anything else. The thought of food, though, did have its appeal.

“Me too. There’s a gas station up ahead that sells great sandwiches, and they usually have a pot of soup on. It’s nothing fancy, but the place is clean and the people are nice.”

“Sounds good. Our run burned off some calories.” Kellar stared straight ahead, and thought about how nice it had been to share what had always been a solitary endeavor. He could still feel Tobyn’s rich, sandy coat against his own. His wolf had been in heaven. He had been in heaven. Dozing on the big rock with the beautiful wolf had put him in a state of pure bliss.

“Twenty minutes now.”

“Huh?” Kellar was jolted back to the present.

“We’re twenty minutes from food.”

“Cool.”

“You know what’s really freaky… in a good way?”

“The fact I haven’t said you drive too damn fast?”

“Hey, I don’t drive too fast. The speed limit’s too slow, that’s all.” He shot a smirk at his companion, and for what seemed the hundredth time since yesterday, Kellar’s heart experienced a few extra beats.

“Okay, so what’s freaky in a good way?”

“My wolf wants out.”

“So?”

“Dude… that just doesn’t happen. Heck, this morning was already an aberration. I don’t think I’ve ever shifted that long in the daytime before. In fact, I know I haven’t. You must have done something when you healed my head… and my ulcers.”

“Maybe… I didn’t do anything different, but I’m glad you were able to do it as long as you did. It was a pretty special morning for me… running with another wolf, I mean. That rock is now my favorite rock.” Damn. Why did he say that? Kellar turned his head to look out the side window, and silence descended again for a couple of minutes.

“How long can you shift for in daylight?”

Turning back, Kellar had sufficiently composed himself. “Um, all day, all night. I can shift whenever I want for as long as I want. I don’t have any restrictions or limitations on it.”

The blond man looked amazed. “You can hold a shift as long as you want? That’s unbelievable!”

“I don’t understand. Why is that unbelievable? When Fendral ‘wolfed out,’ wasn’t he doing the same thing?”

Tobyn shook his head. “No. I don’t understand exactly how it works, but what Fendral did wasn’t shifting. He let the wolf take over, so the human form becomes, I guess you would say, secondary. Some of the pack think of it as a kind of suicide. When he would show himself as human to us kids, that was his shift, and he never held it for long. So, he’s the reverse of what he was. Does that make sense?”

“In a way, yes. It would explain why his burnt umber is so strong.”

“What did you just say?”

“I said his burnt umber is strong.” Kellar smiled at the open-mouthed look Tobyn shot him. “As far as I’ve seen, all shifters have this color—burnt umber—that no other animal, human or plant has. It’s unique to us. I’m pretty sure it’s added after we shift, because the first time I saw my own colors was a few minutes before I had my first one, and there was no burnt umber… it’s a shade of brown. It wasn’t till after I shifted that the new color appeared.”

“Oh, cool. That means you know right away if someone’s a shifter, even if you can’t smell them?”

“Yup. So anyway, the old grey has about double the burnt umber you and I have. You solved a mystery for me. It must be a choice we can make.”

“Yeah, from what I understand it’s a choice, but it hasn’t happened often. The stories say it comes from tragedy, and the person totally gives over to the wolf. I remember as a kid, listening to the adults talk about what a terrible state Fendral was in when he lost Esther. They say he became a different person. Before he ‘wolfed out,’ he’d become unresponsive. According to the old keeper tales, when this happens, the wolf usually goes away to die within a year or two, so no one knows why Fendral has hung around this long.”

“Well, I can tell you his brain smells wrong, and the colors are a little off, although there’s nothing I can pinpoint, like a tumor, or even depression. I think there are herbs that could help him, but I’m not sure. It would be easier if I could flicker him in human form. The time I was close enough to him, my wolf just wanted to play, so I didn’t really try to get much of a read on him. He didn’t stick around long. When I shifted back, I hoped he would too so we could talk, but no dice. He wanted nothing to do with me after that.”

Tobyn sighed. “Yeah, like I said before, he refuses to interact with adults, and even children now. It’s a sad thing, but we all love him as if he was still our leader.”

“You know, I’ve read stories, fiction stories, about werewolf packs, and the leader is always referred to as the Alpha. Is that what Fendral was, or is that all hogwash?”

“Werewolf stories, eh?” Tobyn snickered before he continued. “No, not hogwash. That part is accurate at least. Fendral was our alpha, but we have learned to be very careful about what we say, for fear of discovery. Everything is different, and the old ways have been adapted. It’s safer for the pack to not use certain words, and alpha is the one which would stand out for anyone hunting our kind.”

“That makes sense. If I heard someone referred to as Alpha, it would raise my curiosity. Who is the leader now?”

“We don’t have one leader anymore. When Fendral left us, we hoped he’d eventually return, so a committee of three was formed. Some shifters want a new alpha, but so far, we’ve stuck with the status quo, and it seems to work. My mother happens to be one of the three.”

“Your mother? I never thought to ask you about your parents.”

“There’s not much to tell. My father died when a tractor flipped on him. He was trapped, and had bled out by the time someone found him.”

“Jeez, I’m sorry, Tobyn.”

“Thanks, but I was five when it happened. I don’t remember him much at all. It would have been nice to have him around, though.”

“I don’t remember my parents either. They burned up in a car crash when I was four. I was thrown clear somehow. It was all foster care after that. What about your mom? What’s she like.”

“Wow... I'm sorry too, Kellar. Maybe you can tell me more sometime… my mom? She’s cool. She never remarried after my dad died, but she handled it okay, I think. They weren’t earth mates, of course. You’ll like her. She’s tough on the outside, and she worries way too much about everything, but she’s great.”

“Something tells me you two have that in common.”

“Have what in common?”

“The worrying part.”

“Why do you say that?” Tobyn directed another curious glance his way.

“I can read you, man. Every time you talk about the pack, I can sense your loyalty, and the fears you have.”

“So this is another one of your powers? You can tell what people are feeling?” he asked jokingly, but with an underlying uneasiness present.

Kellar took note of it immediately. “Not normally, but I can read you. For instance, the only time you were truly relaxed today was on the rock in the sun. You let everything go, for just a little while. The rest of the time you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Tobyn slowed down, and surveyed him with only some attention on the deserted road ahead. Kellar met the look, his face as open as he could make it. “Well, I guess you have me pegged. Just don’t go reading my mind, all right?”

Kellar laughed, and it broke the seriousness. “Yeah, I definitely don’t have that power… not yet, anyway.” He gave his friend a smile, and it was returned.

“Okay, we’re here. Time to feed the lumberjack.”

“I have a feeling I shouldn’t have told you about that," he said with a groan.

“Sure you should have. I want to know everything about you.”

Wondering what that meant, if anything, he maneuvered his large frame out of the truck and stretched. With all he was feeling, reading the handsome sandy-haired man’s mind would certainly come in handy. Regardless, there was no place else he wanted to be at that moment, or no one he’d rather be with.