Wolf Creek Ruins
#28 of The Moonrise Chronicles
The next morning Edward got up and without
saying a word, went out to look over the remains of his grandparent's house. He
was wearing a pair of coveralls given to him by Marcus. They were a little
short, but they were better than the jeans he had stolen from the clothes line.
He didn't have any shoes, but he morphed his feet into paws, and the tough pads
absorbed the pressure from the stones and debris.The road was in poor shape, an
obvious sign the county didn't pay much attention to this neck of the woods. It
was hard to imagine any sort of community being built here, with only a
farmhouse remaining and not much else around. But he began noticing other
abandoned structures, some no more than stone foundations. There must have been
something here at one time.The spot designated as being his
grandparents place was as overgrown as the cemetery had been. He went to work
removing the saplings and vines and in short order had a patch cleared. There
wasn't much left. Chunks of charred wood littered the ground, along with broken
glass and melted clumps of metal. He was careful not to touch any of it in case
it was silver. He hadn't had a problem with it yet, but then his only experience
was holding his dime after slicing it from his hip.He sniffed around, but the fire had
occurred so long ago that there was nothing to be learned from his olfactory
senses. Instead, he got down and scraped away at the dirt and leaves, looking
for something he could take away as his own. His lucky coin was lying in the
dirt in Central Park, and everything else was either at the hotel or at his
home. He had no interest in returning to either place now.He stumbled on a mound of dirt and
let out a curse. It was a groundhog hole. The oversize gophers were always
digging up the ground and piling dirt before their entrances. He angrily kicked
dirt down the tunnel in frustration and stubbed his toes on something hard. He
cursed his stupidity for assuming it was all dirt. There were plenty of rocks
buried underground too.The force of his kick dislodged it.
His attention was drawn to the fact that it had a square corner. It wasn't
impossible for it to be natural, but it was unlikely. He knelt and pulled it
loose. It came away, trailing sand and dirt. He sat down and examined it. That
it was old there was no doubt in his mind. It was dark brown with green encrustations,
which in his mind made it brass. Or bronze. Pure copper was unlikely.He brushed the dirt off and as he
did, shapes and symbols emerged. He was struck by the one on top. It was hard
to tell, but it sure looked like a full moon and a werewolf to him. It had to
be something left over from his grandparents. He tried to open it, but either
from the dirt or the corrosion, it refused to budge.He stood and stepped out from the
wreckage and walked back up the road. He went into the barn and found an old stiff
paintbrush and used it to the clear away more dirt. He finally got it cleared,
though hardly what he would call clean. It had a small lock built into it, so
it's stubbornness in opening might be more tied to that than its present condition.He carried it inside with him and
sat down at the kitchen table. The missus was fixing some breakfast, and he was
surprised by the smell of bacon. She heard him sniffing the air. "We thought
maybe you'd prefer to eat something a little more human."He chuckled. "You mean a little
less human don't you?"She smiled at him. "Take it as you'd
like. I just hope you have a stomach for it. We have to take the elixir with us
when we go places.""Yeah, what's up with that?""The elixir? It's an old recipe
that was brought over from the Old World.""No, I mean why can't werewolves
eat, well anything?""Oh. Well I suppose we can dear.
And we do, if we absolutely have to. But it doesn't agree with us. I would have
thought you would have already known this. When was your transformation?""It's been a couple of days now."Marcus walked in just then. "WHAT?""I said...""I heard you son. What the hell
kept you from changing?""A silver coin embedded under my
skin.""Son, you and I need to have a long
talk." Then his eyes fell on the small metal box. He grew extremely excited and
agitated. "Ma look! He found it! He found the Sanctuaire de la Lune!"She had been intent of fixing the
food and talking with their guest and had not paid attention to it. She dropped
her spatula on the floor. "It is! It's the box! Where did you find it son?"Edward stood up and backed away. "What's
so special about this box?"Marcus put his arm around him."Son,
eat some breakfast. It's going to be a long, long day." Speaking of long days, the drive
across New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois to Wisconsin was taking
forever. Of course, the adults had an easy time talking, because they were all
related. Maggie listened to snippets of their conversation, but overall she
immersed herself into the giant tome.She had almost been afraid to touch
it, but Reynaud assured her it was a sturdy book. The pages were peculiarly
think and strong, and when she asked, he said simply. "Skin." She shrugged and
kept reading. Not all of it was in English. There
was French on some pages, and on others Latin. Some had Spanish, and in a few
spots, languages she didn't recognize.The artwork in it often said more
than the words. In one section she found an image of a large dark wolf with
blood pouring from its wounds. A man dressed in period costume was holding a
rifle. The words surrounding it were in French. "Is this the part about the beast?"He glanced at the book. "Yes. Would
you like me to translate it for you?""You can read French?""Oui!"He took the enormous book and set
in on his lap. "Herein is the account of the death of the Great Beast, the Were
of Gévaudan. It was known that the Beast became enraged by a family feud in the
summer of seventeen sixty four, and in a fit of anger, lashed out at the local
population. Attempts to entreat her to return failed, and over time, she became
totally overtaken by insanity. After three years and many deaths, the beast was
finally laid to rest by one Jean Chatel, of the lesser family of Gordare, upon
the order of the king. Thus ended a stain upon the House of Bourbon."Reynaud stopped. Maggie looked at
him. "What's wrong?""I'm sorry little one. I haven't read
this book in ages. I missed something important, or else I forgot it. Then
again, I would have had no reason to bother remembering it. We thought the line
was gone.""The line of what??"He looked down at the young girl. "Your
father might be part of the Bourbon family.""Ok. Should that mean anything to
me?""I guess not on that name alone. The
house of Bourbon is very famous if you know your history.""So you see, history isn't my
strong point." He sighed and rubbed her head. "You are yet
young. Trust me, knowing your history often tells you where you are headed. The
House of Bourbon was where some of the greatest rulers of France came from. Louis
the Fourteenth for example.""The Sun King?""Oh, so you do know some history!""Well yeah. But I never heard the
Bourbon name before. Are you saying he was a werewolf too?""No. But he had the bloodline. I
think you already know how that can work. But there was nothing stopping a
relative of his from being a full werewolf. I don't know why this bit has been
missed. Edward's grandparents must have moved out of the country to here for
the same reason my family did.""Food?""No little one. Persecution. When
one of us is found out, even a relative as mighty as a king cannot protect us.
Louis the Fifteenth was in power during this time. It could very well have been
his own sister who he had to have killed. And if she was in the wilderness for
three years, I can only imagine the things she did.""Like?""Like become the alpha female of a
wolf pack. It would account for the stories of all the abnormally large wolves
in the region.""So you're saying that it's actually
possible for a werewolf to breed with a regular wolf?""Not for any werewolf. But for one
of the one true blood line, yes, it's possible.""So the wolves back at the sanctuary?""We'll not worry about them for
now. We'll check again in two to three months. I hardly want to be considered
cruel, but it I have to, I'll kill ever cub to make sure there are no hybrids
in the batch."Maggie bit him. "Why? That's awful!""Maybe little one, but if they grow
to be big and strong, there will be more terrible things happening than just a
few juvenile deaths."She growled at him. "No! We can
raise them ourselves. You'll d no such thing as kill something bearing the
genes of the kind. What are you, some sort of monster?"Lupenia calmed her down. "I agree with
the girl. We cannot kill an innocent or else we'll be no better than Mr. Fish.
We will wait and monitor the situation. It anything comes of this then we will
act appropriately. But remember dear, this is not a safe world for our kind anymore."Maggie was disgruntled, but she
said nothing more. Over the long drive she read as much of the book as she
could. She memorized every inscription, every painting, every sketch. In one
spot she found an inscription bearing a crest and coat of arms. It seems to
have nothing to do with the kind, but it was so well detailed that she looked
it over at length. Whoever had rendered it had a talented hand.Below it was the image of a key,
perhaps meant to be part of the crest. She tapped Reynaud on the knee. "Does this
look familiar to you?"He turned his head to look. "As a
matter of fact, it does a bit. But I can't say from where. A lot of old keys
were made to go with the lock, not only in functionality, but in looks. That's
the Bourbon family crest, so I suppose the key represents something important.""It looks big!""I don't think I could say. It
could be the key to a crypt, or a treasury; it doesn't say anything about it
here. It may just be nothing."Maggie closed the book. 'From what
I can tell, this book isn't filled with nothing. I think that when this is over,
I'm going to transfer everything over to my computer.""Would that be wise?""Well, for one thing, if this book
were to get lost, you'd lose everything. Even werewolves have to get with the
program. This is the twenty first century. It's not like you can stay living in
the past in the middle of nowhere!"