Charlie Morrison's Arc

Chapter 8 of 14

After the fairies left, Charlie sat by the hearth with the fire low. Her court papers waited on the table for morning. The blueberry basket waited in the cedar chest. Both mattered. She could not carry both at once. Tomorrow she had to drive into town for the hearing, and the cabin would sit empty for six hours. The wolf lay across her feet. His green eyes were open. He had heard everything Fern said about being stolen from first. "Someone's been on the porch," Charlie said. "A blueberry got crushed. Fern saw it. You saw it." She leaned forward. "I don't know who. I can't leave and hope." The wolf lifted his head. He looked at the door, then back at her. He stood, shook out his thick coat, and walked to the front of the cabin. Charlie followed and opened the teal door for him. On the porch, the wolf braced his paws on the boards. He tilted his muzzle up past the crystal-studded eaves and howled once, long and low. The pines took the sound and passed it on. Charlie felt it in her ribs. He howled again. This time the note was different, shaped like a name. Charlie waited beside him. Minutes passed. The porch swing did not move. Then the ferns at the tree line parted without wind. A second wolf stepped into the clearing. He was bigger than her guardian, dense gray from shoulder to tail, with dark green eyes that fixed on Charlie and did not blink. He came up the steps slowly and stopped one board from her feet. "This is who you called," Charlie said. Her wolf dipped his head. The gray wolf did not. Charlie knelt down so her face was level with the newcomer's. Her hands shook and she pressed them flat on her knees. "I have to be gone tomorrow. Someone comes onto this porch when I'm not here. I need to know who. I need them stopped before they take what's in the chest." The gray wolf watched her mouth as she spoke, as if reading each word off her lips. Then he turned his head and sniffed the sill where the blueberry had been crushed. He sniffed the boards. He sniffed the step. His lip lifted once and settled. He looked at her guardian. Something passed between them that Charlie could not hear. The gray wolf padded off the porch and vanished into the ferns without a sound. "He'll find them?" Charlie asked. Her wolf leaned his weight against her leg. That was the answer. Charlie went back inside and picked up her court papers. Her hands were steady now. She would drive to town at dawn. The porch would not be empty. Whoever came for the basket would meet the tracker first, and by the time she came home she would have a name.