Moon Chosen

by P. C. Cast

  “But I was glad when they started shooting him,” Mari sobbed into her mother’s shoulder. “Because he’d seen Rigel, and I knew he was going to tell everyone. I hate myself for it. I hate myself for it. Poor Jenna! Xander was right to look at me with disgust. It’s because of me that she’s an orphan and a slave.”

  “It’s not because of you. It’s because of this world. And what this world has become is not your fault.”

  “I want to change things, Mama,” Mari said between sobs. “Even if it means I have to leave this place and start over.”

  “I know, sweet girl. I know…”

  Mari and Leda hugged each other tightly, while they cried for Xander and Jenna and the others of the Clan who were killed or captured, and wished that their world was different—was easier—or at least was just.

  * * *

  Mari didn’t sleep at all that night. She lay snuggly between her mother and Rigel, and even though sleep eluded her, she drew comfort from the nearness of her family, glad Leda had fallen asleep on the pallet with her and not retreated to her own room. While Rigel snored softly Mari studied her mother’s face. When had those lines overtaken the smoothness of her forehead? And how had she gotten so thin so suddenly? Her skin was still quite lovely, but it was also almost transparent. How many winters had her mother known? Almost forty? That wasn’t old! She’d always seemed so young to Mari. Sometimes, especially when they were laughing together about something silly—like Mari’s purposely silly illustrations—it seemed to Mari that she and Leda were closer than just mother and daughter. It seemed they were sisters and best friends, as well as each other’s only family. Leda seemed many things to Mari, but until that night she had never seemed old.

  Mari felt a sharp, cold stab of fear. Leda’s mother had died just before she had seen forty winters. That had been two years before Leda met Galen and conceived her, but she often told Mari stories of her grandmother. Why exactly had she died? Mama had only said that she had sickened, grown weaker and weaker, and died not long after Leda had finished her apprenticeship. She tended to not ask her mother questions that brought Leda sad memories, but Mari vowed silently to find out what had happened to her grandmother. Would it happen to her mother, too? Was it something all Moon Women had to suffer?

  No! That would not happen to Mama. Not now. Not ever. If that means Sora or I or both of us have to remain apprentice Moon Women for all the winters to come—then so be it. The thought echoed through Mari’s mind so furiously that Rigel stirred restlessly in his sleep, turning to whine questioningly and lay his head across her, waking Leda. Her mother peered blearily at her through sleep-fogged eyes.

  “Is it time?”

  “I’ll check.” Mari untangled herself from Rigel, who grumbled, and then stretched and yawned. She hurried to the little hole that served as a window to the upper world. The black of night was lightening to gray and the palest of pinks. She turned back to her mother. “Yes, it’s time.”

  Silently, Leda and Mari broke their fast, feeding Rigel as well. They dressed carefully, making sure Mari’s arms and legs were fully covered, her hair was completely dyed, and reapplying the concealing clay and mud to her delicate features. Mari brought her slingshot and a pouch filled with smooth stones. Together they replenished the skins with the lavender oil and saltwater that blinded wolf spiders. When all was ready, they paused before the door.

  “We need to move quickly and silently,” Leda said. “The sun hasn’t broken the horizon, but when it does—when it has vanquished the fog—you will be vulnerable. I do not doubt that other members of the Clan will be out today searching for loved ones gone missing.”

  “We’ll stay off the trails, and we’ll be quiet.”

  “And vigilant. Remember that you are not simply vulnerable because of your skin. If any Earth Walker saw you with Rigel, I do not know what they would do.”

  Mari knew what they would do. She’d seen it in Xander’s eyes last night. “I won’t let them see Rigel. He knows what hide means—we practice it whenever I take him out to relieve himself. I don’t even have to give him the command anymore. I just point and think about him being so quiet and still that he becomes invisible, and Rigel understands.” She stroked her pup affectionately, kissing him on his nose before nodding to her mother.

  Leda opened the door. With her walking stick she held the razor-edged brambles aside as Mari and Rigel followed her around the winding, hidden pathway that led away from their burrow.

  Mari hesitated just outside the bramble thicket, staring back at their camouflaged home and worrying her lip between her teeth.

  “What is it?” her mother asked.

  “I wish I knew how to cover Rigel’s scent. If the Companions ever get near our burrow, whether they have Terriers or Shepherds, he is going to be scented.”

  “Then let us be quite certain they have no reason to come anywhere near our home,” Leda said.

  Mari nodded tightly. “Okay, I’m going to carry Rigel all the way back there. I don’t want them to find one more pup-sized trail leading here.”

  “I think that’s wise,” Leda said.

  Mari lifted Rigel in her arms, feeling his warmth and his solid weight, and thinking that it wouldn’t be long before he’d be too big for her to carry very far. Keeping a tight hold on her pup, she moved with her mother through the ash and willow trees that dominated the damp, stream-filled forest that was Earth Walker territory. This close to their burrow, Mari and Leda kept the forest floor cleared of any edible plants that might draw others—be they Earth Walkers or Companions—and encouraged wild brambles, stinging nettles, poison oak, and devil’s club to flourish, making their little section of the forest as unappealing as possible. There were no obvious pathways through the mixture of unpleasant and dangerous plants, but Mari and her mother made their way confidently and quickly through the area.

  As agreed upon before they left their burrow, they did not go directly back to the Gathering Site and the holly bush under which Rigel’s paw prints had been discovered. Instead they made their way to the site of Xander’s murder, and the last place Rigel had been before the three of them had raced for home.

  Leda was leading when they came to a spot where the ferns were trampled and broken. Rigel suddenly became restless in Mari’s arms, whining and sniffing the air.

  “Xander’s there, isn’t he?” Mari said.

  Leda motioned for Mari to stay where she was, and she walked ahead, stopping abruptly and pressing her hand against her throat.

  “Mama?” Mari whispered.

  Leda bowed her head and mouthed a prayer before she returned to her daughter. “You were right. The roaches were here last night.” Taking Mari’s arm, she guided her in a wide circle around the horrific leavings. “This is it. I can smell the lavender. This is where we fought the spiders.”

  “And this is where we fell.” Mari pointed at the dip in the forest floor where Xander had pushed them when he was trying to save them. “Okay, I’m going to put Rigel down now.” She did so, wiping the sweat from her face and stretching to relieve the soreness in her back. “And now we circle all the way back to the cedar we hid under.”

  The women moved swiftly and silently. The ground was wet from the rain that had fallen late the night before, and Mari was glad to see that Rigel’s oversized paws were leaving distinct prints. She and her mother were, of course, leaving prints as well, but Mari consistently threw twigs and pinecones for Rigel to chase, sending him out away from them while Leda used a mature deer fern as a broom to muddle and make much of their tracks indistinct.

  When they arrived at the dead cedar, Leda went within and Mari kept Rigel outside the curtain of vines while her mother smoothed the tracks left by the four of them. She rejoined her daughter and Mari pulled the ivy aside, pointed, and told Rigel, “Hide!”

  Wriggling happily, the young Shepherd ran within, spinning around and lying down to look up at Mari, his tail thumping against the floor of dead leaves and dirt, thoroughl
y enjoying the game. She let him stay where he was for a moment, hoping that his scent would be trapped within the hiding spot.

  “That should be an easy find for anyone tracking Rigel. From here we walk straight back to the holly bush, and I’ll tell him to hide in there, too.”

  The three of them closed the distance between the cedar and the holly bush. As they drew closer, Mari saw that the area was a disaster of trampled ferns, smashed logs, and destroyed undergrowth. There were a few places where Mari had spied the feathers of an arrow, and she had quickly averted her gaze.

  “Another Earth Walker. Yet another male gone,” Leda said softly. “I wonder how many they killed?”

  “Xander, this one, and at the Gathering Site below I saw Warren shot and killed as they attacked,” Mari said.

  “Warren. I am sorry to hear it. Cyan will be grieving his loss.”

  Mari said nothing, though not because she was too callous to let death and the grief that followed it affect her. She simply didn’t understand how a woman could grieve a man who spent so little of his life with her. Xander had been different. He had actually raised Jenna—had been more of a mother than a father to her. But Warren? Mari would have liked to have asked her mother how often he had come to her to be Washed of his madness. Had he bothered to retain his sanity for his mate, or had he, like many of the Earth Walker males, simply given in to Night Fever more often than not?

  Mari shook herself mentally and pointed at the holly bush. “Rigel, hide!”

  The pup dashed within, spun around, and mouth open in a grin, waited for whatever game would come next.

  “We go from here to the creek?” Leda asked.

  “Yes, but first I’m going to throw this for him and have him bring it back to me from a bunch of directions.” Mari lifted the last stick she’d picked up. “Here you go, Rigel. Get it!” She tossed the stick and Rigel sprinted after it, happily carrying it back to her. A dozen times Mari threw the stick for Rigel—in a dozen different directions. Finally she nodded at her mother. “I think that’s good. Now to the creek.”

  Mari called Rigel to her and the three of them made their way carefully down the steep bank.

  “Watch your step, Mari,” Leda said, taking her daughter’s hand. “There are many holes and sharp, broken branches hidden beneath the leaves here. This bank is much more treacherous than it appears, which is why the crossing to the Gathering Site is quite a way downriver.”

  Mari squeezed her mother’s hand and helped her pick her way down the steep bank while Rigel careened past them, all oversized legs and paws, making the two women smile.

  “I think he’s going to be even bigger than your father’s Orion was,” Leda said, breathing hard as they paused at the bottom of the bank to catch their breath.

  “I think Rigel is going to be magnificent! I also think we’re going to be successful today. After what we do, no Companion is going to be able to track Rigel back to our burrow,” Mari said, hoping by saying the words she would make them real. “And I’ll be more careful from today on. I’ll never take a straight path back to our burrow, and I’ll carry him whenever we get close to home.”

  Leda raised a brow. “Even when he’s full grown?”

  Mari nodded determinedly. “Even when he’s full grown. I’m already strong, and my strength will grow with him.”

  Leda smiled at the gangly, frolicking pup and then at her daughter, her expression filled with love and pride. “Sweet girl, I believe you can accomplish anything if you work hard enough at it.”

  Holding hands, Mother and daughter slogged through the creek together. The late-night rains had continued to swell the creek and had the already treacherous current sucking at their legs. Mari kept a tight hold on her mother’s slim hand while she glanced at Rigel, who had paused at the edge of the water and was whining piteously.

  “Come on, Rigel. You can do it!”

  The pup instantly stopped whining, pricked his ears at Mari, and then launched himself into the creek, sputtering and sneezing, but swimming strongly after them. The three of them reached the opposite, gentler bank together, and the women laughed softly as Rigel shook himself vigorously, and then began rolling in the moss in front of the nearest Earth Mother idol.

  The women’s laughter stopped abruptly as their gazes went from idol to idol. The Gathering Site was wrecked. The Hunters had taken no notice of the lovingly tended statues, and had trampled anything that had been in their path. Mari watched her mother wander from one desecrated statue to another. At first Leda tried to repair smashed ferns and torn moss, but finding one of the Goddess’s carved sandstone faces that had been knocked from its rightful place and shattered, had her becoming still in her sadness. She sat with the broken rock in her lap, her fingers trailing over the cracked carving as if she could smooth away the damage.

  Mari glanced at the sky. To the east of them it had lightened from gray and mauve to the colors of fire mixed with the cerulean of true morning.

  “Mama.” She went to Leda and touched her shoulder gently. “Rigel and I have to go upstream, toward the Companions’ forest, and leave false trails. I can do it quickly and then return if you want to stay here and try to fix the Earth Mothers.”

  Leda looked up at her daughter, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. “Don’t you need me to help you make the false trails?”

  “No, Mama. Actually, I think it would be faster if just Rigel and I went.” Mari paused and added. “There aren’t any burrows upstream, are there?”

  “No. There are no burrows in that direction. None would have been built heading toward the Companions’ forest.”

  “Then I don’t need to worry about Earth Walkers surprising me with Rigel, right?” Mari asked.

  “Right again, sweet girl, which seems the norm these days.” Leda smiled up at her daughter, though Mari thought her expression was shadowed with sadness. “You are growing into a fine woman, Mari. I am so proud of you.”

  Mari blinked in surprise. “Well, thank you, Leda,” she said, trying to lighten her mother’s mood.

  “You are welcome. You deserve the compliment. And stop calling me Leda.” She began shooing away Mari. “Go on. I’ll stay here and ground myself—find my calm true self in the midst of this chaos. Then I will put to right this desecration.” Leda paused and looked around her, sounding overwhelmed. “Or perhaps I should better use the time to go downstream to the burrows closest to here and warn the Clan that they must move.”

  Mari smoothed her mother’s hair back from her face, noticing as she did so that there seemed to be an unusual amount of silver framing her temples. “Mama, weren’t most of the Clanswomen present yesterday?”

  “Yes. There had to be a majority present to witness and accept my choice as apprentice. The only people missing were out hunting or gathering,” she said.

  “Then the Clan has already been warned. I think you should wait here for me and care for the Earth Mothers.”

  “You’re right, I’m sure. And you won’t be gone long, will you, Mari?”

  “No, of course not. The sun is rising in a clear sky. Rigel and I need to get back to our burrow, and you need to come with us. Be watchful, Mama. The Companions came through the cherry grove.” Mari pointed behind them at the bud-filled trees. “Listen carefully. If you hear anything get across the creek and run home. If you’re not here when I return I’ll know you’re waiting for us there.”

  “You be vigilant, too, Mari. You have to watch for Companions as you lay your false trail, and then when you return here you must watch for any of the Clan who—” Rigel, bumping her thigh with his wet nose, interrupted her and had Leda laughing softly. “Ah, I see clever pup. You will warn our Mari of danger.”

  “Yes, he sure will,” Mari said, stroking the pup and kissing him on his damp head affectionately. “Don’t you worry about us, Mama. I’ll come back quietly and listen carefully. If I hear your voice I’ll know you’re talking to someone from the Clan and I’ll be sure Rigel hides.”

>   “If anyone from the Clan is here I’ll be sure my voice is raised so you can hear me easily.” Leda smiled at Rigel. “I mean so Rigel can hear me easily and warn you.” Leda petted the damp canine, who wriggled happily.

  “That sounds like the perfect plan, Mama.” Mari bent and kissed her mother on her head, just like she’d so recently kissed her pup, making both women grin and the pup wag his tail in shared happiness. “We’ll be back safely and soon. Then we can go home and rest for the entire day.”

  “I will be here waiting for the both of you,” Leda said.

  “I love you, Mama,” Mari heard herself speaking aloud the words she was thinking.

  Leda smiled as she looked at her daughter. “And I love you, too, my sweet girl.” She turned her attention to the pup. “Rigel, I’m counting on you to take care of our Mari.” The pup galloped to Leda, licking her face and wriggling happily as she petted him. “Good boy, good boy,” she murmured. “And I love you, too.” Then, smiling and humming softly, Leda turned to busy herself with the first of the Earth Mother idols.

  Mari watched Leda begin to gently remold the moss that had been ripped from the idol’s voluptuous, earthy body. Leda’s expression had shifted from sad to serene. As always, tending the Goddess idols seemed to soothe her and help her find her center. Mari was glad of it, even if the idols had never had the same effect on her. Maybe when I’m older. Maybe then the Earth Mother will speak to me like she does Mama. Mari sighed. Or maybe my father’s blood has ensured the Great Earth Mother will never speak to me at all.

  Mari shook her head, scattering her gloomy thoughts, and waving a final time to her mother, motioned for Rigel to follow her into the creek so that they could begin trudging upstream.

  15

  Had the business of creating false trails not been so important to their existence, Mari would have been thoroughly enjoying herself. Rigel certainly was! While Mari threw stick after stick for Rigel to run after and then return to her, she walked through the creek, watching the pup sprint into the forest and return to her, plunging into the water and swimming to her as if he could never tire of their game. As the sun climbed the sky the spring morning grew warmer and warmer, and the cool creek water felt wonderful against Mari’s legs. She daydreamed about how she would have loved to take off her clothes and submerge herself, washing the dirt and clay and dye from her arms and face and hair. Then she’d choose one of the wide, dark boulders positioned directly in the sunlight and she would lie there—naked—and soak in the heat of the sun. If only, Mari thought.