"There are reporters out there," said Reuben. "I can hear them. I,m sure you can too."
"And so can Margon," said Felix gently. "They,ll come through the tunnel or over the roof into the sanctum. You need not worry. You know that. You need not ever worry. We will never be seen."
Laura was on her feet and in Reuben,s arms. He felt the intense heat of her br**sts against his shirtfront, his chest. He pressed his face against her tender neck.
Reuben didn,t have to tell her what this meant to him, to go out there into the divine leafy darkness with Felix, to go deep into the very heart of the night at Felix,s side.
"You come back to me soon," she whispered.
Thibault had come round to take her arm, to escort her, as it were, as if this had been a formal dinner in an earlier time, and they left the room together, Laura vaguely enchanted and Thibault doting as they disappeared into the hall.
Reuben looked at Felix.
Felix was again smiling at him, his face serene and full of compassion and a simple, effortless, and shining goodwill.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
THEY WENT DOWN through the cellar. All one had to do was swing back the heavy door to which the furnace was affixed above a concrete base that was in fact a hollow plastered box, and they were walking through a nest of cluttered dimly lighted rooms, beneath dusty electric bulbs and past heaps of trunks and old garments, and hulking pieces of furniture, and past other doors.
Down the stairs they went, and at last entered the broad earthen tunnel beamed and supported like a coal mine, a faint silvery light sparkling on the rich veins of clay in the damp walls.
Round one turn and another they walked until far ahead of them, there broke the metallic light of the wet sky.
The tunnel went straight to the roaring sea.
Felix, fully clothed, began to run. He ran faster and faster and then leapt forward with his arms out, his clothes breaking from him, his shoes flying away as in midair his arms turned to great wolfen forelegs and his hands to great furred claws. On and on he galloped, gliding through the narrow opening out of sight.
Reuben gasped in astonishment. Then, trusting himself utterly to the example, he too began to run. Faster and faster he ran, the spasms rolling inside him, seemingly lifting him as he too leapt forward, his clothes ripping and releasing him, his limbs elongating, the wolf-coat erupting from the top of his head to his toes.
When he hit the ground again, he was Morphenkind, pounding towards the roar of the surf, the roar of the wind, the welcoming light of the night sky.
He cleared the opening effortlessly, rushing through the icy frothing waves.
Above on the perilous and jagged rocks, the man wolf who was Felix waited for him and then they scaled the impossible cliff together, digging into earth and vine and root, and romping into the dank fragrant refuge of the trees.
Where Felix led, he followed, running as he had run south to Santa Rosa to find Stuart, with that rippling power, as they went north beyond the woods of Nideck Point, farther and farther into cathedral groves of redwoods that dwarfed them in the journey, like the lost monoliths of another world.
Boar, wildcat, bear - he caught the scents, and the hunger rose in him, the imperative to kill, to feast. The wind carried the scent of fields, of flower, of earth baked by sun and soaked with rain. On and on they ran, until there came on the wind the scent he,d never truly relished before: the bull elk.
The bull elk knew it was being pursued. Its heart thundered inside it. It ran with majestic speed and grace, dashing ever faster ahead of them until they both caught it, descending on its broad back, closing their jaws on either side of its mighty arched neck.
Down went the immense animal, its thin graceful legs twitching, its mighty heart pumping, its great gentle dark eye staring unquestioningly at the broken fragments of starry sky above.
Woe to you, all living things that appeal to such a heaven for help.
Reuben pulled loose the long dripping strips of meat as if he,d never known restraint in all his life. He crunched the gristle and bones, snapping the bones, grinding them, sucking at the marrow, swallowing all.
They nuzzled into the soft underdown of the belly - oh, this was always the sweetest with either man or beast - and tore at the richly flavorful rubbery guts, lapping with quick pink tongues at the thickening blood.
And so they feasted together in the soundless rain.
Afterwards, they lay at the base of the tree together, motionless, Felix obviously listening, waiting.
Who could have told the difference between them, beasts of the same size and color as they were? It resided in the eyes.
Critters sang of the fresh kill, the carrion. Slithering through the underbrush an army of tiny mouths moved towards it, the bloody carcass shivering as they assaulted it, as if in being devoured it had taken on a new life.
Out of the deep shadows came the coyotes, huge, hulking, gray, lethal-looking as wolves with their pointed ears and snouts.
Felix appeared to watch, a great silent hairy man being with patient but glittering eyes.
He crept forward now on all fours and Reuben followed.
The coyotes yelped, danced back, snapped at him, and he at them, taunting them with his right paw, laughing under his breath, growling, allowing them to move in again, and teasing them again and then watching them as they tore at the broken body of the elk.
He made himself so still they grew bolder, drawing closer to him, then shying violently at the sound of his laugh.
Suddenly he sprang, pinioning the largest with his paws, and clamped its wolflike head in his jaws.
He shook the dying animal and tossed it to Reuben. The other coyotes had fled in a chorus of cries and yelps.
And they feasted again.
It was almost dawn when they descended the cliff, clutching, sliding, and scampering over the slick rocks to the entrance of the cave. How small it seemed, near invisible, this seam in the thick rocks, a broken narrow cavity hung with gleaming moss and foaming with the lapping tide.
They walked together through the cave, and Felix changed back into the man without ever breaking his stride. Reuben found he could do it too. He felt his feet shrinking, his calves contracting with every step.
They dressed together in the murky light, the clothes soiled and torn, but all they had, and Felix threw his arm around Reuben, his fingers stealing affectionately through Reuben,s hair and then clasping the back of his neck.
"Little brother," he said.
These were the first and only words he had spoken since they went out together.
And they went up into the welcome warmth of the house and to their separate rooms.
Laura stood at the bedroom window, staring out at the steel-blue dawn.