Chapter 37 - Astrid

The touchdown back to the tigers is quiet and sombre.

The tension in the air is palpable. So much had transpired in a span of days with time never once taking a moment to let any one of us breathe except for the few pockets of air you get once in a while—a smile, a stolen kiss here and there, sipping hot tea with new friends.

But the one person who has yet to inhale is Bianca. She hardly spoke a word after we found Valentina and I sense another deep change happening in her.

Surprisingly, the tigers have settled into the town well in the time it took us to track Valentina down. Guru tells us that they cleared the newborns from the buildings easily because of the daylight. With the humans that were left, they have struck up an amicable agreement based on mutual trauma caused by the vampires to rebuild together; protection for protection. Protection against the vampires and protection against the discovery of the shape shifters.

I felt pride and new hope swelling in my heart upon hearing this and it reminded me that no matter the circumstances of my union with Rio, it has at least resulted in harmony for the tigers of this Bhutanese town.

Guru and the elders thank us for our help in getting them to leave Sanctuary, but decide to scrap the agreement made before with Rio and Midnight Shadow. They even find a way to thank me, I, who have barely done a thing, for the spark that led to their exodus and to chasing down Valentina as if she were to blame, or as if I had a substantial hand in it. But I guess everything comes down to the Sun Goddess's blessing.

I secretly confide in Rio that their judgments are misplaced, but he reminds me firmly that there is truth to their words.

"You are a blessing," he says. "You are my blessing, and hopefully that will keep my mind at ease about Demi's lack of intel at the moment."

"It's only been an hour," I tell him.

"A lot can happen in an hour."

Rio and I carry Valentina's body into the plane, which has been prepped for immediate take off. I watch as Guru stands with Ganzoring by the stairs leading up, going in for an embrace. We decided to bring Ganzorig along, a part which I finally had to play in. I persuaded him and Guru that the Lycans needed to see a tiger advocate for themselves in the hope that this work in their favor for a future alliance. I may be a tigress myself, but a part of me always belonged to the wolves and now half of me does belong to a Lycan.

As Rio and I shuffle the body towards the back where it can remain cold and frozen, one of the room compartments is already shut closed with Bianca having occupied its space for some isolation.

"Hey," Rio catches my attention when I feel the worry on my creased brow. "She'll be fine."

We proceed to get the rest of our luggage in as Alex mans the cockpit. Guru thanks us tearfully as he finally lets go of his son.

"I wish you well," he says. "For the sake of all that we know and hold dear."

The flight takes off in the crisp morning, clear blue skies up ahead, and we are one day closer to setting things right.

A thunderous grey storm greets us overnight. Rio makes his way to the cockpit to assist his Beta, leaving Ganzorig and I to ride through the turbulence.

He grips on his seat anxiously, eyes closed and mumbling a prayer to himself.

"Is this your first flight?" I ask.

"Yes," he quips, flickering his eyes open and watching the dark clouds outside.

"It'll get better," I remark, now that I have experienced two flights more than Ganzorig, though my heart jumps a little when the plane unexpectedly dips.

"Is that normal?" he questions.

"Uh, yeah," I laugh nervously. "Happens all the time."

I wait quietly for the turbulence to ease up, but five minutes pass, feeling like an eternity, and it doesn't let up.

"How many places have you been to?" I ask, hoping the distraction helps.

"Just as far as a bus can carry me," he replies, a hint of gold circling around his pupils. "Mountain towns. Simple houses. Simple people."

"Just wait till we get to Mesaniskia. It will be different, but the landscape is beautiful."

"It's already starting to feel different," he says just as we dip again.

We both let out a gasp, about the same in pitch, but neither of us continues the conversation and I have a feeling Ganzorig, too, has his eyes shut and his life flash before them. Suddenly, the roughest part of the turbulence hits and shakes the seats. I look back to make sure nothing is amiss with Valentina's body as the food compartments rattle along to the turbulence. The room where Bianca is shut in is still very much closed and very much quiet.

"I'm sorry for acting like such a coward right now. I'm not usually like this," Ganzorig states abruptly.

"What do you mean?" I ask curiously.

"I mean, I wouldn't want the Goddess to think of me in such a light," he gestures to his right eye, implying my golden eye.

I remember then that just like Rio's black Alpha eye, my special golden eye is supposedly the Sun Goddess's window to our world. A rush of intimate thoughts floods my memory of what all she would have seen and bore witness to. My cheeks flush in response. I wonder if the thought ever occurs to Rio.

"What was she like?" he enquires.

"Have you never met her?"

"No, that is an honor held by the elders alone."

"Well then," I contemplate. "She is exactly what you would reckon the personification of a sun to be. Bright, golden, majestic, beautiful."

I consciously feel myself brown nosing a little, though I consider what I've said to be the honest truth. The Goddess was as radiant as the sun.

I start to hum the tune I hear in my visions of the Sun Goddess as that is the only thing I have to show Ganzorig of my experience with the Goddess. The song of my ancestors, that's what the Sun Goddess said. I couldn't decipher it well at first, but the tune rings clearer and clearer in my ears lately as if the Goddess were telling me to build it up. But for what, I have yet to discover.

"It's called the song of the ancestors," I tell Ganzorig. "I heard it the first time I saw her in a dream, and again back in Sanctuary."

Ganzorig listens for a while then shudders in his seat.

"It sounds like a funeral song," he observes. "Sad and melancholic."

The more I hum it, the more I notice what he means. It makes me uneasy, though ethereal matters such as this are probably quite unnerving to many.

"Was she scary?" Ganzorig's dark brown eyes seem to ease with our topic of conversation.

"What makes you say that?"

"From what I've heard, the Goddess presents herself as pure light."

"I think there's a subtle difference between scary and intimidating," I snort. "So, I'd go with intimidating."

"Intimidating," he repeats, bobbing his head in understanding. "Scary," he utters next in a smaller voice. "Is the God of Death considered scary then?"

I shudder to think of him and suppress the thought, fearing he might hear it in my head.

"No," I reply in just a small voice as Ganzorig's. "It's more than scary. It's dread. Fear."

Ganzorig doesn't repeat me this time, but I can tell from his quiet meditation that he echoes the words in his head.

"The first time I saw him," he says, "there was a strange feeling in my stomach. He possessed a vampire, not a newborn, but a proper vampire. A man in a bar, who was following a tourist home in the evening. It was another day on the job for me, but this vampire was different. His eyes were fully black. I had lost sight of him just for a second when he turned a corner. When I reached, he had already drained the tourist dry and disappeared into the shadow of the night."

"When was this?"

"Six months ago."

"He had all that time to prepare," I whisper.

Enraptured by Ganzorig's recounting, I notice now how the turbulence has calmed. He appears more relaxed than before, letting his tied black hair fall down on his shoulders as he pushes it back and massages his scalp.

"I have a theory," he says, "that he was scouting the area. Looking for what, I don't know. Perhaps me. Perhaps our little Sanctuary. But I hardly returned home enough to really know, preferring my isolation away and the immersion into the strangers of the town."

I gaze at Ganzorig's face. His expression is tense, much like the worry that usually plasters his face. His nose slopes down straight, while his brows protrude out a little, causing him to somehow always appear in thought. And with the way his thick brows arch up, you would think he has a problem with you, with life, with everything. His high cheekbones add to the severity of his expressions as does the large scar running diagonally across it.

"So, you prefer the company of humans?" I prod.

He raises a hand in response, flat out in front of him, tilting it up and down as his shoulder shrug.

"They're so-so. Kind of fragile and stupid, and yet, so blissfully unaware of the dangers around them at all times. They still find ways to be content with themselves."

At this, I ponder on what 'normal' is to Ganzorig and how long he has felt that danger is at the forefront of life. As we draw nearer to Mesaniskia, I hope to be a gracious host. Even though I can hardly call it home for the moment, it will start to feel like it one day because Rio already feels like home.

"Well then, I hope the Lycans live up to your expectations," I tell Ganzorig.

"From what I know of Alex and Rio, I expect nothing but greatness."

Rio appears from the cockpit, as if summoned.

"You'll love Mesaniskia, Ganzorig," Rio says. "I'll personally show you around...you know, after we defeat the First Son."

"You say that as if it will only take a day," I interject.

"It might," he smiles at me. "A good leader should cling onto hope when the future looks at its bleakest."

I shake my head at Rio's titbit, but hope he's right.