The two black wolves sniffed warily around the edges of the large yard. The landscaping, just slightly wild, worked in around ancient trees, had the kind of whole look that usually meant a dryad or an earth-oriented witch had a hand in its care; the trees, whether the gardener knew or not, bore scent traces of a wolf claiming this as his residence. The house was medium-large, well-kept without being overly fancy, though the wooden ramp that doubled back and forth in front of the house made them pause briefly. Aindry could smell wood-smoke on the breeze, a warm and homey kind of scent.
Overall, this was probably a good place to try. If not here, well, there were lots of other houses in Falias.
They faded back into the woods to where they'd left their packs; a few minutes later, human-form and dressed, they walked up to the wide front door, and Aindry knocked.
The woman who opened the door had a distinctly dryad scent, the dark brown in her short curly hair nearly eclipsed by the grey. She over-topped the two wolves by a good six inches, and out-massed either by half again, but she greeted them with a friendly, if curious, smile.
“Yes?”
“We were wondering if you had any odd jobs around that we can do, for, say, a meal?” Aindry said tentatively. This never got any easier. They dared not spend too much time in the mixed villages, or anywhere for that matter, terrified that if they did Unity would be repeated all over again. So, in a long circuit, they visited once each Falias in Newfoundland and Endor in Quebec and Irminsul in Saskatchewan and Ravenrock in British Columbia and Aralu that was the newest, up in the Northwest Territories. By unspoken mutual consent, they never went within a very broad circle around Unity, and Haven was within that range, much too close for comfort, close enough to stir memories neither wanted to bring back to the light of day; they passed through Ontario as quickly as they could each time. Never the same house twice, and sometimes they had to knock on more than one door before someone decided to be generous.
“Floria?” A man came into the broad hallway behind her. “Who is it?”
Aindry instantly dropped her gaze and went very still, almost before consciously identifying the scent and the casual confidence of an alpha in his own territory; she didn't need to look to know that, half a step behind her, Jaisan was doing the same.
“Don't worry about earning it right now,” the dryad said briskly. “You both look like you've gone about half feral. Come on in, don't worry, Ian won't bite you, not unless he wants me to deal with. Take your boots off there, and we'll see about a hot bath.” She backed up to let them in, and closed the door behind them. “I'm Floria, he's Ian, and our coven-mate Wren is around somewhere.”
Aindry looked to Ian for confirmation, before moving.
Ian simply smiled; there were a lot of laugh-lines there, Aindry thought. “I learned better than to argue with Flor a long time ago. Consider yourselves welcome. The house has been quiet since the kids moved out, and we have an extra room upstairs where you can sleep if you need it. I'm sure we can find enough around here to keep a couple of strong young bodies busy.”
Hospitality had always been a tradition in the mixed villages, or so Aindry had been taught; it wasn't universally honoured these days, but the ones who did, did it properly, she thought. Gratefully, she slipped out of her heavy worn coat, and started on the laces of her boots; Jaisan, waiting for her to decide, immediately followed suit. “I'm Aindry. Jaisan's my brother.”
Floria nodded, took the two coats to hang on a set of hooks on the wall, and moved farther into the house to yell, “Wren! We have guests!”
“Do they need a healer?” a pleasant baritone called back, from somewhere Aindry thought was on the same floor but towards the back.
“Not immediately, I think!”
“Then I'll meet them in a few minutes.”
“He has a rabbit back there that had a passing encounter with a car,” Ian explained. “Why he won't just let me eat it, I will never understand.” He shrugged, and sighed. “Healers.”
“Healers are usually pretty softhearted,” Jaisan said timidly.
“And I suppose we'd all be in trouble if they weren't, but that doesn't mean I understand them. So. We only have one full bathroom. Who wants to get warm first?”
“Jais,” Aindry said without hesitation. “I can wait.”
Floria nodded again. “And we'll see if we can't find something clean for you to put on while we throw your clothes in the laundry.”
Aindry suppressed a twinge of apprehension as Ian led Jaisan upstairs; being separated while outside hunting was one thing, but inside, with walls and doors around them, it made her nervous. But there were no scents of treachery or hostility or demon influence here, only kindness and concern. With her backpack slung once again over her shoulder, she followed Floria to a large bright kitchen at the end of the hall—around the rather cluttered counters, and an island in the centre with a ramp to a raised area on one side, the linoleum floor was obviously kept deliberately clear. Even the three chairs at a table to one end were all carefully pushed in all the way.
Floria headed immediately for the fridge, and produced a large pan; once the plastic wrap was off, Aindry caught the wonderful scent of homemade lasagne. “Kids your age need to eat like elves of any age,” Floria said. “Supper won't be for a while yet, so I think we'll just microwave a couple of slices of this to keep the two of you until then.”
“We can't...” Aindry began, badly torn between the tantalizing scent and her own pride and honour.
Floria turned around to look at her. “Your brother needs it,” she said calmly.
Aindry recognized the direct appeal to her wolf instincts—she was alpha, it was her responsibility to take care of Jais—but recognizing it didn't lessen the power of it noticeably. She lowered her eyes again. “We both do,” she admitted.
“I won't ask why the two of you aren't living with your family somewhere, instead of wandering around with next to nothing, that's your business. It won't cost us any great amount to feed you for a day or two and give you a warm place to sleep, and I hope that if my two daughters were in trouble, someone would do the same for them. No more arguing, understand?”
Aindry smiled, hesitantly—it felt like an expression she rarely used, these days. “Understand.” She resolved to find something she and Jais could do to pay them back for the charity, though. There must be something around—wood to chop, maintenance on a car, housecleaning, something.
“Good.” Floria fetched two plates from the cupboard, deposited a large slice on each, and put one in the microwave on the island.
Unexpected sounds of motion behind her made Aindry spin around; she relaxed immediately, as a light-skinned man with a lion's-mane of silvery hair joined them in the kitchen. He must have been in a truly terrible accident, Aindry decided, to have been hurt badly enough to need a wheelchair—healer gifts usually worked extremely efficiently on their own bodies. It certainly explained all the little oddities about the house.
“Wren, Aindry,” Floria said. “Ian just took her brother Jaisan upstairs for a bath.”
“Hi,” Aindry said shyly.
Wren wheeled the chair all the way into the kitchen, and nodded amiably. “Be nice to have kids around the house for a day or two. Make yourselves at home. I'm the resident healer, let me know if you need me.”
The microwave beeped, and Floria handed Aindry the plate and a fork and knife. “Table's right there, honey, go have a seat and eat. I'll get you a glass of milk. And no silliness about not eating until your brother does,” she added sternly, as Aindry hesitated. “I'll make sure he gets some as soon as he gets done. Sit, eat, I'm going to go track down clean clothes. You make sure she does, Wren.”
Hours later, warm and clean and well-fed, Aindry and Jaisan snuggled into the twin beds in the room that had belonged to Floria and Wren's daughters.
“'Night,” Jaisan said drowsily.
Aindry smiled to herself, suddenly remembering this same day, eighteen years before. Remembering slipping quietly into her mother's room, once the healer left, and peeking into the old-fashioned wooden cradle next to the bed, to see the two sleeping, rather funny-looking creatures that she'd been told were her new little brothers. Remembering her mother's eyes opening, and her warm, if exhausted smile. Intent on finding them a meal and maybe a bed, she hadn't thought of it until now.
“Happy birthday, Jais,” she whispered.