by P. C. Cast
As the creek began to bend to the right, Mari waded to the nearest bank and sat on a sunny log, dabbing sweat and water carefully from her face. Rigel came to lie by her feet, and set about tearing up a pinecone he’d fished out of the creek.
Mari stretched mightily, and her palms, pointing skyward, tingled as unimpeded sunlight beamed down on her. Mari glanced around her. The creek had taken a sharp turn to the east, creating a covelike area where the water pooled in the shallows and glistened like a forgotten promise made new. She and Rigel were absolutely alone in a little bubble of sunlight and beauty. Hesitantly, Mari lifted her hands over her head again. Opening her palms, she held them up so that they could catch the morning sun.
Through her palms, warmth swept into her body. Mari welcomed it, noting the difference between the golden power of the sun, and the cool, silver strength of the moon. She couldn’t say which she preferred—she hadn’t had enough experience with sunlight, which sounded silly. The sun did rise every day, and it wasn’t like she was a child anymore. It had been many, many winters since that first morning when she and Leda had been gathering berries in a clearing a little deer path had led them to. The sun had burned away the morning fog, leaving the clearing in brilliant, golden light. Mari remembered every moment of what had happened next. She had been so young that her features were as yet indistinct enough that she hadn’t needed the camouflaging clay, though Leda had already been working dye into her fair hair. The sudden sunlight had filled Mari with an indescribably giddy feeling, and she had flung wide her arms and done a little impromptu dance around the berry grove, singing happily to herself until she’d heard her mother’s horrified, No, Great Mother! Not Mari!
Mari had run to her mother, asking what was wrong—what had happened. Leda had been crying, Mari was sure of it even though her mother had carefully wiped her face and smiled before facing her inquisitive daughter and pointing to her bare arms. Nothing is wrong, sweet girl. You are your father’s daughter, and there is nothing wrong with that, nothing at all.
But Mari had understood. Earth Walkers weren’t fair-haired, nor did delicate, frondlike patterns of gold rise from beneath their skin when sunlight touched them. Mari had to pretend to be an Earth Walker, or according to Law she and her mother would be rejected by the Clan. That sunny day had been the official start of Mari’s life of hiding.
“But I steal moments,” Mari whispered. Purposefully, Mari spread the fingers on her raised hands wide, and let her head fall back so that her eyes could stare up at the clear morning sky. By her side, Rigel mimicked her actions, staring up at the sun. She knew without looking at him that his eyes, along with hers, had begun to glow, intensifying the warmth that filled and invigorated her. “Oh, Rigel! It feels so good, and the sun isn’t even at mid-sky yet.” And then Mari realized what she had just said, and she dropped her hands and shook her head, ordering her thoughts. This time when she looked around she saw more than the tranquil beauty of the cove. Mari saw the tall pines that the fat sun seemed to sit just above.
“Rigel, let’s go!” Mari was up and moving into the creek before she’d taken two breaths. Too far! I’ve gone too far and come too close to the Companions’ forest!
Wading into the creek with the pup swimming beside her, Mari turned downstream, glad that she could make up time going with the current. Then, as a floating log bumped against her, she had a wonderful idea. Snagging the log with one hand, she grabbed Rigel by his scruff and helped the soggy canine scramble up so that he was clinging to the piece of wood half in, half out of the water. Then, careful to stay low so that someone glancing at the creek would only notice floating flotsam with a log, but not so low in the water that she submerged her face and washed away the concealing clay and dirt and dye, Mari hugged the log to her, keeping one arm wrapped around Rigel. The current took them, and they began to float swiftly down the middle of the creek.
Mari kept her attention focused on the forest around them. She’d been gone too long—let too much time pass. Companions would certainly be on their way to continue their search, and maybe their hunt as well. Earth Walkers would definitely be stirring by now, and they couldn’t know that the Companions would be returning so soon. They couldn’t know that Nik and the other Hunters had only been there because of Rigel. Mari could imagine the Clan making their way back to the Gathering Site to look for evidence of lost loved ones and, like her mother, to care for the desecrated Earth Mother idols.
“Yeah, and they’ll be there, like moles peeking their heads up after a hard winter. They won’t be expecting enemies to come after them again,” Mari muttered to Rigel. “Of course Mama will be right there in the middle of them, trying to save everyone, but only succeeding in putting herself in danger.” As soon as she’d spoken the words, a terrible clenching fear fisted around her gut. “We need to get back and be sure Mama’s safe. Hang on, Rigel, I’m going to start kicking.”
Mari’s kicks added to the current and propelled them swiftly downstream, and except for bumping her knees on submerged rocks, Mari was feeling pretty good about her plan to make up time when the sound of women’s voices drifted across the water to her.
Instantly Mari released the log. Rigel close beside her, Mari swam to the shallows, and then, with a grunt and a huge effort, lifted the soaked Shepherd in her arms. She sent him soothing all is well—stay still and quiet—all is well thoughts as she picked her way slowly and silently through the forest underbrush.
“Xander dead and Jenna taken? It’s so horrible!” Sora’s distinctive voice lifted above the others, causing Mari to freeze in place. The pink, fragrant cherry blossoms were perfuming the air as she searched the area, trying to find somewhere she could hide Rigel. Remembering a huge willow positioned not too far upstream from the Gathering Site, Mari cut back toward the creek as her mother’s answer was drowned by water and wind.
The willow was easy to find, and more perfect than Mari had expected. It sat by itself on a little bump of ground that lifted it and made the tree, with its graceful draping of thick boughs, look as if it was there to oversee the creek and the Gathering Site. Crouched low and still carrying Rigel, Mari approached the tree from the rear, slipping within the curtain-like branches.
She put Rigel down, whispering “Hide” before she crawled to the edge of the circle of gently swaying branches, parted them just enough to peek through, and went very silent as she studied the scene before her.
Leda had made her way into the creek with the stone face of another of the idols. She was still bent over it, her hands scooping water to wash away the muddy footprints left by uncaring Companions as they had trampled through the sacred site.
On the opposite bank, not far from the holly tree Mari and Rigel had hidden beneath the evening before, were several Clan members—all men except for Sora. She seemed to be doing all the talking while the men watched her silently as she and Leda carried on an animated discussion. Just as Mari was sighing in frustration at not being able to hear what was being said, the wind shifted, carrying the women’s voices to her.
“Yes, Sora, I do insist that you abandon your burrow. First, because it is not far enough from here to be safe. As you know, my Mari was here last night. She overheard the Companions speaking to one another. They will return. One of their canine pups is missing and they think it became lost in our territory. They do not intend to stop looking for him. Quite simply, it is not safe for you to remain in this part of our territory, just as it is not safe for any of our Clan to remain nearby.”
Mari’s gaze went to Sora, who started to speak, but Leda’s raised hand silenced her. “I have not finished, Sora. Second, you agreed to be apprenticed to me last night, which means you will someday—should our Great Earth Mother grant it—become a Moon Woman. You know it is forbidden for the location of a Moon Woman’s burrow to be known to the Clan. You would eventually have to find a new spot for your home. Is now or later really that important?”
“Yes, it is important to me!” Sora said, so
unding petulant.
“As it should be. A Moon Woman’s choice of burrow is of extreme importance, as is the keeping of it secret.” Mari smiled at her mother’s response. Sora is definitely out of her league.
“I know that I have to find a new home, and keep it secret.” Then, as if an afterthought, Sora added, “I just don’t understand how I’m supposed to make my new burrow without the help of anyone. After all, my mother wasn’t a Moon Woman. I don’t have a burrow already hidden by silence and mystery.”
Mari’s eyes narrowed just as did Leda’s. Sora’s tone wasn’t just whiny, it was disrespectful.
Leda had stopped washing the face of the idol, and had straightened. She faced Sora, and as she spoke her words were amplified by equal parts anger and love.
“Sora, I was going to wait until I could call another Gathering to tell you this, but now seems the perfect time. I have decided to break with tradition, which is always a Moon Woman’s prerogative, and to announce that I claim two apprentices.”
“Two? No, I—” Sora began, but Leda sliced her words off.
“Silence, apprentice! You may speak when I have finished. I proclaim that my daughter, Mari, will also apprentice as the Clan’s Moon Woman.” Leda paused and, smiling serenely, added, “Apprentice, now you may speak, but be wise with your words. I have the right to take away apprenticeship as easily as I give it.”
Mari’s heart was hammering so hard that she almost didn’t hear Sora’s next words.
“But the entire Clan knows Mari is too sickly to be a true Moon Woman!”
“Until the Companions attacked us last night, I thought Mari was too frail to be Moon Woman, too, but what she did proved me wrong. You see, the reason I know Xander was killed and Jenna taken, is because just before the Companions overran our hiding place, Mari called down the moon and Washed them both clean of Night Fever.”
Sora’s black brows shot up. “That is hard to believe.”
“And yet I witnessed it,” Leda said.
There was a long silence where Sora looked from Leda to each of the four men, her expression clearly saying what her words could not without invoking Leda’s wrath. Finally, one of the men spoke up. It was, of course, Jaxom, the young Clansman Sora had been sharing looks with at the Full Moon Gathering. Slowly, with obvious reticence, he said, “Moon Woman, why would Mari have Washed Xander and Jenna, instead of you Washing them?”
“Jaxom, are you questioning my word?”
Mari shivered at the tone of her mother’s voice. She had rarely heard it, but on those few occasions she knew what followed would not be pleasant.
Jaxom’s eyes flicked to Sora, who quickly went to him, touching his arm intimately. “Of course Jaxom isn’t questioning your word, Moon Woman. He is simply asking aloud the question we are all thinking.”
“Then I will answer him just as simply. I was injured last night. Badly. Mari saved me from drowning, and got me to a hiding spot, where we met Xander and Jenna. I had a severe concussion. I had cracked ribs. I could not call down the moon, and the Companions were close by, so when Xander began to be consumed by Night Fever, Mari did what I could not. She Washed him. She Washed Jenna. Does that answer your question?”
“Almost,” Sora said, making a big show of seeming to be embarrassed that there was more she needed to ask. “But if your injuries were so great that you couldn’t call down the moon, couldn’t even aid your daughter in calling down the moon, then why do you seem uninjured today?”
Leda lifted her chin, and in a voice so filled with love and pride it had Mari’s eyes tearing, said, “I am uninjured today because after Mari Washed Xander and Jenna free of madness, she Washed me free of my wounds. And that Sora, is why I proclaim my daughter, Mari, my apprentice and heir in addition to you.”
Mari didn’t think she’d ever stop smiling. Sora’s mouth was actually hanging open, and Jaxom was nodding—practically bowing—to Leda while he muttered something that sounded like an apology. The other three men looked equally chagrined. Mari was so filled with happiness that it took several breaths for her to realize that the sound she was hearing, a low rumble, was coming from Rigel. Reluctantly she turned her attention to the pup. He had been curled beside her on the mossy ground, semi-asleep after his exertions in the creek, but now he was standing. His body almost hummed with tension. The fur up and down his spine was lifted. His tail curled up over his back, scorpion-like, and his ears were pricked forward. He was growling softly, all of his attention focused on the cherry grove behind the creek. Suddenly Mari was filled with the desire to run, escape, go go go!
Mari moved fast, but not fast enough. As she parted the curtain of boughs and shouted, “Mama, run!” Companions and their canines burst from the cherry grove.
Sora didn’t hesitate. Without so much as a glance at Leda, she grabbed Jaxom’s hand and yelled, “Save me! Save me!” The young man half dragged her up the steep bank and then the two of them sprinted into the forest. The other three men followed closely behind.
Not one of them helped Leda.
Leda glanced over her shoulder, searching wildly for Mari. Stepping from the concealment of the willow, Mari gestured for her mother to go—run! She meant to go to her—to leave Rigel there, hidden and safe at least for the moment—and to rush to her mama. But her Shepherd had other ideas. With a strength that utterly surprised Mari, Rigel clamped his teeth into her tunic and pulled, jerking her off her feet and dragging her backward so that she fell to the ground within the safety of the willow.
“Rigel, no! I have to go to Mama!” Mari scrambled to be free of the pup, but it was too late. The voices of strangers filled the Gathering Site like the rumbling of thunder just before lightning strikes.
On her stomach, Mari crawled to the edge of the willow’s sweeping boughs. With shaking hands she parted the long, green tendrils.
Her mother was almost across the creek. Mari’s fingers dug into the moss. Hurry, Mama! Hurry!
Ferocious barking came from the center of the Gathering and a too familiar voice carried easily over it. “Thaddeus, Sol said there’s no need to capture any Scratchers today. Calm Odysseus down before he breaks a blood vessel or something.”
Mari tore her gaze from her fleeing mother to look at the group of men. It was with a sense of detached shock that she noted there were only three of them. Two were standing beside small, wiry-haired canines that must be Terriers. The third had no canine, but Mari recognized his voice and easily put a name to his tall, handsome form—Nik. The man who believed Rigel was his.
“Nik, the more time I spend with you, the more you remind me of a neurotic old woman. Odysseus is just having some fun. Actually, let’s let Odysseus and Cameron have some fun. Davis, get ready. I’m going to send my boy after that Scratcher. You send Cameron, too.”
“No, we’re not supposed to catch any Scratchers,” Nik said, obviously irritated. “Ignore the woman and let’s get back to tracking my pup.”
“We can do both, and Cameron needs the experience. Right, Davis? That’s why he’s here, isn’t it? We’ll release her after we catch her. No big deal.” Before the younger man could respond, Thaddeus nodded, in a self-satisfied way, and commanded his canine, “Odysseus, capture!”
Mari watched helplessly as the first Terrier shot away from Thaddeus, arrow-like, and plunged into the creek after Leda. The second canine followed behind, barking enthusiastically.
“This is wasting time we don’t have, Thaddeus!”
Nik was speaking, but his words weren’t making any sense to Mari. The only thing that made sense to her was Leda. Her mother had reached the far bank and had begun climbing up it. Mari could see that she was trying to hurry, trying to climb quickly, but the ground rose too steeply and was too filled with rocks and broken branches and brambles. She was going to slip—going to fall, and just as Mari thought it, it happened.
Later, when Mari replayed the terrible scene over and over in her mind, she realized Leda’s foot must have found one of the m
any holes that the dead leaves and forest debris so easily covered. But then, as Mari watched it happen, all she saw was her mother’s body suddenly tilt alarmingly to one side so that, off-balance, arms flailing madly, Leda fell backward. The steep bank acted like a slide, and Leda’s body careened down with a terrible momentum, head over feet, twisting and turning, until she landed in a broken heap half in, half out of the creek.
“Great. Now you’ve hurt one of them,” Nik said. “Call off your canine, Thaddeus. Davis, grab Cammy. I promise you, this isn’t the kind of experience my father meant for him to have.”
Mari couldn’t seem to make her body move. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. All she could do was to watch the three men wade through the creek. Thaddeus called his Terrier to him. The other man picked up his smaller, younger canine.
“Good thing we didn’t need to capture this one. She’s too damn old—too damn weak to be any good on the Farm,” Thaddeus said, turning his back dismissively on Leda’s still form. “Okay, so, the holly bush was just up this bank, correct?”
But Nik didn’t answer Thaddeus. Instead he was looking at Leda.
“Hey, what are you doing? I thought you were in a big hurry to start tracking your phantom pup.”
Nik rounded on Thaddeus. “Shut up! I think she’s dead, and there was no reason for it.”
“Dead?” Mari’s lips mouthed the word and her body started to tremble. Rigel whined softly and pressed against her. “No no no no no.”