Free Vacant Faith by Melody Hewson Page A

fruit before she
hopped down from the branch, then watched the stallion expectantly.
The horse's skin began to shiver, then it almost seemed to melt as
the animal began to shrink in size. His long, graceful neck was
pulled back into his body and his legs buckled as they lost the
ability to hold up his shifting bulk. Finally the last of the horse
faded away, leaving only a naked man laying beneath the shade of
the tree.
    The man's hair was the same blonde of the
horse's mane, and his tanned skin was almost as golden as the coat
of the stallion he had been. He stood up slowly and wrapped the
blanket that had been on his back around his waist for the sake of
human decency before he sat back down to lean against the tree.
Alina smiled once the process was finished and gave a happy squeal.
“Yay, story time!” She exclaimed with childish exuberance before
she skipped over and bounced to the ground beside him, leaning
against his side.
    The man who had been a horse smiled and
wrapped one of his arms loosely about the small girl to give her an
affectionate hug. “Yes, time for a story, I suppose. Although I was
hoping you would be a little older before you started asking these
kinds of questions.” He sighed wearily, but the smile returned to
his face when he looked at her. “Remind me, dear one, have I or
your mother ever told you about the witchwolves?”
    The girl's face scrunched again as she
searched her memory, but the word was completely new to her. “No,
what's a witchwolves?”
    Her father chuckled and gave her another
squeeze of his arm. “You mean 'what's a witchwolf?' The 's' on the
end of 'witchwolves' means more than one.” He corrected her gently.
“That's not really what they are, of course, simply what the humans
named them. Humans believed them to be the pets of sorcerers or
witches in disguise. But since they had no name for themselves, it
is what I'll have to use.”
    “Why don't they have a name for themselves?”
Alina interrupted.
    The man looked out across the sun-warmed
grass, the corner of his mouth pulling downward thoughtfully. “I
suppose, it was because they didn't need one. They knew what they
were, and so did everything else that mattered. A bird no more
needs a name for its kind than a river needs to be told where the
ocean is. They simply know.” He turned his head to smile down at
the girl, playfully touching the tip of one finger to the end of
her nose. “Just like we don't need a name for ourselves. We know
what we are, right?”
    Alina giggled as she swatted away his hand.
“Because we're not human.” She stated with a tone of authority, the
words well worn by repeated use.
    “That is correct, my most precious treasure.
We are no more human than the bird or the river.” The man patiently
explained. “We merely borrow their form for the sake of convenience
and safety.”
    Alina scrunched up her face again,
concentrating on the word that had confused her. “Con- con-”
    “Convenience.” He said again. “It means to
make something easier. If the humans knew that we could change our
forms and that we were related to witchwolves they would make
trouble for us.”
    “Con-ven-ance.” She attempted again, looking
up to her father for confirmation that she had been correct.
“Con-ven-ance makes things easier.”
    Her father looked down at her with a proud
and patient smile, the ritual continued. “You're very close. With a
bit of practice I think you will learn how to say it correctly. But
that's close enough for now.”
    “So what happened to Gramma?” Alina asked,
unwilling to let go of the original subject. “Why haven't I met her
before?”
    The smile faded away from the man's face and
again he turned his gaze away. “The humans happened.” He sighed
sadly, eyes unfocusing as his mind slipped back to a time long
past. He ran his free hand through his long blond hair before
letting it fall back down to his lap. “Just as they happened to so
much of Eidra. And yet