54. The Old Shaman

**XANDER**

The next day, Maeve, Esmeralda, and I set out to meet her uncle Hugo, the alleged old shaman who could assist Maeve find her magic and anchor it. The drive was long and tiring even before we reached the Pelrose forest, and as we crossed the marshy expanse of the land, all we saw was thick woods and nothing else. The car had to be stopped where the forest thickened, and we set out on foot.
"How can someone live here?" I muttered, scanning the entire place for a sign of human existence. There weren't any. Even creatures like these instilled some sort of living standards amongst the forest guarded territory.
"Uncle Hugo is extremely private," Esmeralda said as she caught up to my speed. For someone who walks with a cane, she was unbelievably quick. "He detests company," she added.
I scowled and commented, "I hope he is not hiding behind the trees with a weapon."
Maeve, on my right, nudged me with her elbow and marginally glared. "What?" I mouthed.
She rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Esmeralda. "If he is a private person, do you think he would appreciate this uninvited visitation?" she asked apprehensively as we continued to trudge through the somewhat muddy forest.
"If it would have been any other circumstance, he might not entertain us," she replied. "But I strongly believe that he would not turn you away. You might not know this, Maeve, but you are special."
A few paces away, the thick forest was beginning to turn sparse, and a small, wooden house came into our view. This is it, my wolf identified. Even though we stood a few seconds away from the destination, I wondered if throwing caution to the wind and rain was a good idea, especially when it concerned my mate.
"I think we have reached," Maeve echoed, glancing over the surroundings.
Frankly, if it would not have been the only dwelling place in this forest, I would have never taken it for a choice of habitation. The windows were dirty and tinted while moss encircled the area like abundant vegetation.
Stomping across the distance, we stepped onto his creaking wooden porch that has not been swept over for almost a decade. The fallen leaves crunched beneath our feet and very much felt our presence known.
The moment I was about to knock, the door pulled open and revealed a fairly old man with a deep set of hazel eyes. Hugo, no guessing there. His straight silver hair sat over the shoulders like a pristine cape, and despite his scrawny frame, there was something about his whole stance, I could not put my finger on.
"Uncle Hugo. How have you been?" Esmeralda shouldered forward and kissed him on his cheek, and finally, a faint emotion lightened his face.
In general, my wolf instantly categories a person on its first meeting, but I could barely assess with Hugo. It seemed like the old shaman had discreetly put a spell on himself from being evaluated.
"Ah, Esmeralda!" He returned the kiss. "Come in, come in. I have been holding my breath for your arrival." His hazel orbs shifted to Maeve and brightened with recognition. "And finally she is here. In flesh."
How the hell?
"Please, come in." This time, he held the door wide open in the invitation as we collectively stepped in. As against the exterior, the house looked like it was dated some centuries ago with ancient furniture and decorations. Surprisingly, it was remarkably furnished. For a moment, it seemed like we had stepped into another century.
Esmeralda appeared to be well-versed with his home and hardly expressed care. She went ahead and aired her confusion, though. "Uncle, I did not tell you that I will be coming…" Her voice trailed, slow and distant as the old man was still entranced by Maeve's presence. "And do you know her…who she is?"
"As a matter of fact, I do," he confirmed. His chin lifted proudly and addressed Maeve, "I don't know what name did you choose in this lifetime or what form, but I have been waiting for you for a long time. Death shall not have me until I fulfil my purpose on earth, and my dear, I have been a patient man. My ancestors have finally answered my prayers." Reaching out, he took Maeve's hands in his and kissed in greeting.
"Your ancestors?" Maeve asked, speaking for the first time.
"Yes, my ancestors," he affirmed. "The undying spirits of the realm that your predecessors have created for all the supernaturals whose souls wander around aimlessly. Her magic is the purest of them all because you are the saviour."
Call it my wolfish apprehension or healthy paranoia, I was always wary of people who knew too much in too little time.
"Can someone explain," I said, stepping between all of them, "…in plain terms, what the hell is going on here?"
Clearly, the old shaman despised my presence. "A wolf in charge of a regal witch," he scowled and then huffed a sarcastic chuckle. "Mother nature has the cruelest and ironic sense of humour, I have to say."
I took a step forward, lowering my tone that held an edge of steel. "A wolf with his mate. And if need be, the wolf can kill."
A soft pair of a hand gripped my forearm and squeezed imploringly. "Xan, love, please. I am sure he meant no harm." Then she requested him, "Please, for all of our sakes, speak plainly. We are, as it is, baffled with too many puzzles to count."
"My dear," he said in a tone dripping with honey. "I am merely a servant of your great power and legacy. How can I be of your service, is yours to determine."
"Not again," I grumbled, rolling my eyes.
Esmeralda looked equally perplexed as I was but somehow managed to stay polished and warm in her approach. "Uncle Hugo, does that mean you can't help her?"
"The magic she nurtures in her blood is beyond all magic that has ever been produced by a spell. She has the sun in her soul, the moon in her heart and the universe at the back of her hands. She is both the creator and destroyer - the maker and breaker. She shall bring the end of one world to create another for her followers."
"Yeah, for now, I think I will just settle for magic." Maeve cringed. "Do you think you can do that?"
"I am absolutely certain, I can."
"Will that be enough to face Ametrine?" Maeve grew impatient with every word, and I completely understood her urgency. "To end her once and for all?"
Even though Hugo did not clearly state in words, the shadow of disappointment was evident on his face. "How do you end a spirit?" he asked rhetorically. "Death means forever, but not to an immortal. Long before magic touched the very ground on this earth you are standing upon, Arietta and Ametrine have changed the human course for themselves. They have a kingdom of their own on the Other Side of death."
"There has to be a way to stop her, Uncle Hugo," Esmeralda cried in defense. "Right?"
The old man sighed deeply and then gave a slow now. His gaze contemplated Maeve for the most prolonged second. "Yes and that is through you. You are the only thing—the only medium—standing between Ametrine and the land of the living. It is only through her she can come and only Maeve can stop her."
Finally, he was talking about a game. "Great then, get on to it," I said, clapping my hands enthusiastically. "Teach her whatever hocus-pocus spell you need and arm her. The sooner she learns magic, the quicker we can leave."
The shaman flashed a withering look, one that clearly spoke of his displeasure and annoyance. And I returned the favor by caring not an ounce. He could hate me all he wanted, but we needed results. And needed them fast.
"What?" I asked nonchalantly.
Esmeralda was the first one to recover and break the thick veil of silence. "Xander, how about you and me take a walk outside?"
"Oh, no. No fucking way." My anger flared. "Esmeralda, I trust you and of that, I have no doubt. But I am not leaving my mate alone with him. Hell would freeze over before that!" I fussed.
"You can freeze hell or heaven or bring down thunder on earth, but none of those will help her magic with a werewolf breathing down her neck," the old man snarled, shredding whatever unspeakable patience I have teetering on. "She needs space to anchor the spiritual energy."
With my impossible speed, I prowled and closed the distance between us to snap his neck. But Maeve stepped between us like a wall. Her long fingers pressed into my chest, offering the calmness I lacked. "It's okay. I will be okay."
"Maeve, it's not safe!" I hissed.
Standing on her tip-toes, she kissed me with all the love and assurance she could put in and whispered, "I will be safe here, I promise, Xander. Trust me, will you?"
How could I not? It's just the *world* I didn't.