Read Online The Silent Strength of Stones by Nina Kiriki Hoffman, Matt Stawicki - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nina Kiriki Hoffman, Matt Stawicki
Ads: Link
the kilianishkya . I’ve never just tried to ... to know somebody without putting the pulling-threads into the veshka .. .. You seem so calm about all this. As if you understand it.”
“No,” I whispered. If I waited until I understood everything, I might go crazy before I got there. Too many weird things had happened already today. What else could possibly happen?
I thought of the longing I had for the wolf dog, my wish that we could be traveling companions. But that wasn’t the same. I didn’t want to own him. I just wanted us to be very good friends. He would care about me and I would care about him and we would take care of each other.
“I want you,” Willow murmured. “I want you.”
I couldn’t remember anybody ever saying that to me—not Pop, not Junie, certainly not Mom. The heat rose in me again: not the heat of our dancing connection, as if I were struggling to either get away from or live with something new and foreign, but the heat of blood. It felt exciting and sexy and scary. I put my arm around her and kissed her. She tasted like warm golden flowers and the juicy ends of grass stems. She gripped my head again. Her kisses were still tentative, but her hands were certain.
Heat was building in me again, but it wasn’t a minor of her heat, or if it was, I didn’t know. Her hair felt soft as cat fur when I worked my fingers through it and dislodged the flowers there. Her skin was almost as soft as the surface of warm water, and she smelled faintly of cinnamon. My fear seeped away. I knew there was something I wanted, but I was thinking with something other than my brain, just feeling and waiting and wanting and knowing, gathering her to me, wanting her against me, sensing her heat and her longing, wanting to be inside of her.
“ Ruf! ” A weight hit me, knocking me and Willow right off the branch to the ground beyond. I cracked my elbow against a buried root, and it hurt; Willow spilled loose of my embrace, and the cold where her warmth had been hurt, too. Then the wolf was standing on me, his forepaws pinning my shoulders, his hind-paws planted on my thighs, a growl simmering from him—and his nose pointed at Willow.
“I wasn’t,” she said, elbowing herself up and straightening her hem.
“ Wuf . Raroor ,” he muttered.
She sighed. “All right. I started to, but I stopped myself. I wasn’t doing it right then.”
The wolf lay down on me, heavy and warm, and snuffed at my face. His bristly whiskers tickled I still felt shocky from the suddenness of his attack, but I also felt strangely relaxed, as if huge wild animals lay on me all the time. He raised his head and stared down into my eyes. I felt his regard more than saw it in the darkness. Then he muttered little barks and growls.
“Evan ...” Willow said, her voice rising but soft.
I felt sleepy and strange. The wolfs noises seemed more and more like words. I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn’t even blink. My breathing shifted. I was panting. The inrush of air woke me up.
“— nishti fetchayim shtoi veshkuti minish minish minish ,” said the wolf, and I felt cold all over. Every voluntary muscle in my body tensed and froze, as if I were straining to lift a rock that was really part of the Earth and wouldn’t come loose. The wolf licked my nose.
“Evan,” Willow said. Her voice was bereft of hope.
“Can’t have him now,” said the wolf, his voice low and gruff. “I got him.” I could feel his heart bearing and knew mine matched its rhythm. My own pulses ran loud in my ears, the sound of a fingertip rubbing back and forth on fabric.
“No,” she whispered. “They’ll punish you.”
“They won’t know,” he said. “I’m never going back to the cabin. I’ll stay here. With Nick.” He licked my cheek. His breath smelled doggy. His tongue was warm, but the wet it left behind cooled instantly. I couldn’t summon the energy to be scared, even though I was still totally tense and I had the feeling
“No,” I whispered. If I waited until I understood everything, I might go crazy before I got there. Too many weird things had happened already today. What else could possibly happen?
I thought of the longing I had for the wolf dog, my wish that we could be traveling companions. But that wasn’t the same. I didn’t want to own him. I just wanted us to be very good friends. He would care about me and I would care about him and we would take care of each other.
“I want you,” Willow murmured. “I want you.”
I couldn’t remember anybody ever saying that to me—not Pop, not Junie, certainly not Mom. The heat rose in me again: not the heat of our dancing connection, as if I were struggling to either get away from or live with something new and foreign, but the heat of blood. It felt exciting and sexy and scary. I put my arm around her and kissed her. She tasted like warm golden flowers and the juicy ends of grass stems. She gripped my head again. Her kisses were still tentative, but her hands were certain.
Heat was building in me again, but it wasn’t a minor of her heat, or if it was, I didn’t know. Her hair felt soft as cat fur when I worked my fingers through it and dislodged the flowers there. Her skin was almost as soft as the surface of warm water, and she smelled faintly of cinnamon. My fear seeped away. I knew there was something I wanted, but I was thinking with something other than my brain, just feeling and waiting and wanting and knowing, gathering her to me, wanting her against me, sensing her heat and her longing, wanting to be inside of her.
“ Ruf! ” A weight hit me, knocking me and Willow right off the branch to the ground beyond. I cracked my elbow against a buried root, and it hurt; Willow spilled loose of my embrace, and the cold where her warmth had been hurt, too. Then the wolf was standing on me, his forepaws pinning my shoulders, his hind-paws planted on my thighs, a growl simmering from him—and his nose pointed at Willow.
“I wasn’t,” she said, elbowing herself up and straightening her hem.
“ Wuf . Raroor ,” he muttered.
She sighed. “All right. I started to, but I stopped myself. I wasn’t doing it right then.”
The wolf lay down on me, heavy and warm, and snuffed at my face. His bristly whiskers tickled I still felt shocky from the suddenness of his attack, but I also felt strangely relaxed, as if huge wild animals lay on me all the time. He raised his head and stared down into my eyes. I felt his regard more than saw it in the darkness. Then he muttered little barks and growls.
“Evan ...” Willow said, her voice rising but soft.
I felt sleepy and strange. The wolfs noises seemed more and more like words. I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn’t even blink. My breathing shifted. I was panting. The inrush of air woke me up.
“— nishti fetchayim shtoi veshkuti minish minish minish ,” said the wolf, and I felt cold all over. Every voluntary muscle in my body tensed and froze, as if I were straining to lift a rock that was really part of the Earth and wouldn’t come loose. The wolf licked my nose.
“Evan,” Willow said. Her voice was bereft of hope.
“Can’t have him now,” said the wolf, his voice low and gruff. “I got him.” I could feel his heart bearing and knew mine matched its rhythm. My own pulses ran loud in my ears, the sound of a fingertip rubbing back and forth on fabric.
“No,” she whispered. “They’ll punish you.”
“They won’t know,” he said. “I’m never going back to the cabin. I’ll stay here. With Nick.” He licked my cheek. His breath smelled doggy. His tongue was warm, but the wet it left behind cooled instantly. I couldn’t summon the energy to be scared, even though I was still totally tense and I had the feeling
Similar Books
