by Lori Holmes
He cursed the fact that Juran’s totem had been lost. If he had gained that one piece of indisputable proof… Brooding, he turned his attention to the snow.
And the missing totem suddenly paled into insignificance. A predatory smile split across his face as he read the ground. Juran had possessed a far greater prize, one that all other clans would not fail to recognise. If Eldrax claimed it, he would control the Plains from the Mountains to the Southern Forests.
Yes!
He turned to his waiting men. “It is time we took our rightful place as the power in these lands. No more scratching at the edges.” He pointed to the wavering line of diminutive tracks leading away into the foothills. “It’s time to go hunting.”
* * *
6
In The Balance
Rebaa.
Juran?
Rebaa…
Juran was calling her name. In her sleep, she reached for him. She was warm and the scent of fur was strong in her nose. She smiled lazily. She did not feel like leaving the warmth of their bedding yet. Rebaa stretched out her fingers without opening her eyes and searched for Juran’s warm skin, preparing to curl into his side as she always did when dawn broke over the horizon. Perhaps she could persuade him that the day could wait just a little longer.
She recoiled in shock as her fingers came up against something wet and icy cold.
The illusion of contentedness shattered as Rebaa’s eyes flew open. Instead of Juran’s indulgent face, a great furry head and a pair of amber eyes were filling her view. Rebaa cried out and jerked away with a gasp. The wolf that had been sniffing her hair jumped back and stared at her accusingly. Rebaa panted as harsh reality settled back over her.
More noses sniffed at her head, trying to rouse her. Ninmah’s golden face was rising over the horizon and the wolves were ready to move on. They urged their newest member to get to her feet. She had been moving with the pack for a whole day and night and they were frustrated with her ever slowing pace. Their impatience grated on her nerves and Rebaa’s grief burned swiftly into anger.
“Leave me!” She leaped to her feet and faced down the wolves. Theirs was not the comfort she wanted. She did not want them. “Go! Get away.”
The alpha male growled a warning at her. She rounded on him, her energy gathered like a storm cloud and she could not hold it back. Screaming, she released it, lashing out at his mind with all her bitterness, driving him away.
The alpha yelped as she engulfed his thoughts with her pain. He swiped at his face with his paw, trying to rid himself of the discomfort. Shaking his head, he spun on his hind legs and ran from her, howling as he went. The pack gave Rebaa one last look of reproach before they turned and followed their leader, disappearing over a ridge and melting into the snow. Not one of them looked back.
Rebaa fell to her knees as she buried her face in her hands.
I will never leave you. Juran’s voice continued to echo through her mind. Remember that.
“Liar!” Rebaa howled to the nothingness. “Liar!”
Viciously, she pushed his memory aside. She could not face her grief, not if she expected to function and continue in this futile attempt to keep her last promise to him.
She stared blankly at the landscape stretching away before her, the tangle of steep, rocky slopes, gullies and ravines, all the white crags, dead grasses and unforgiving rocks. This was the path she had to travel and survive as long as she could.
For the sake of her baby and nobody else she would continue on until she could travel no more. She had to get out of these desolate foothills and move south across the Plains. Only then would she find the ancient forests of her people.
Rebaa heaved her ailing body upright. Light-headedness swamped her and she staggered before the world righted itself. It had been too long since she’d eaten. She stumbled over to the wolves’ latest carcass, wrinkling her nose at the mauled bones. Desperate, she pawed through the remains, searching for a bit of flesh, anything that she could eat. As always, the bones were stripped bare. Rebaa kicked the exposed ribs in frustration.
She ate the snow. The melting frost sated her thirst and she drank deeply, filling her empty stomach with water in the hopes it would ease her discomfort.
Nothing moved on the stark landscape before her as she drank her fill. The loneliness settled once more like a weight upon her shoulders. She had been foolish in sending the wolf pack away. They might not have been the comfort she wanted but at least she hadn’t been alone.
Rebaa began to feel stirrings of guilt for how she had treated them. In one flash of temper, she had let her grief and anger get the better of her and she had made a weapon of her Ninmah-given Gift. Such an abuse of power should not be inflicted upon the Children of the Great Spirit. But she knew deep down that she had done the only thing she could. Even if she hadn’t sent them away, she would never have been able to keep up with them for much longer. A pack of mountain wolves would protect its weakest members to the bitter end. She would have become their doom.
A ray of light stabbed at her tired eyes. Ninmah was rising ahead of her. She was facing east. Struggling to remember the skills Juran had taught, Rebaa knew she needed to head to her right to escape the maze of foothills and eventually come down onto the vast open Plains. The trail of human footprints she had discovered had driven her north of her original path. She did not want to cross their trail again. She must stay clear of other Cro clans. After a moment’s deliberation, she decided to continue to follow Ninmah east for a while before turning south.
The wind picked up as she travelled. Icy blasts whistled through the rocks. Rebaa hunched down into her furs and tried to still the chattering of her teeth. Creatures of the Great Spirit scurried away or hunkered down inside their bolt holes in fear as she passed by. It served as a reminder of the harsh world she now existed in: one of kill or be killed. She whimpered in longing for the peaceful forest home of her childhood. She kept her higher senses thrown out as she picked her way over the often treacherous paths through the hills, alert to signs of ambush, but nothing greater than a hare’s quivering energy could be detected.
The dark crags and rock faces surrounding her began to rise higher on all sides. Different paths twisted and turned through the rocks in every direction. Rebaa turned her face to the sky to determine Ninmah’s position only to find Her guiding face had also abandoned her, obscured behind thick, threatening clouds. Rebaa fought down a wave of fresh panic as she realised she no longer knew which direction to walk in. The wind seemed to come from all directions. She could stumble around in these hills for days and get no closer to her destination.
When darkness fell, Rebaa wept out loud when she came upon a set of footprints she knew to be her own. They were too small for any Cro and no Cro would be foolish enough to walk these desolate places alone. She had begun to wander in circles. A whole day of travel and strength she could not spare, wasted.
Rebaa stopped walking and leaned against a rock for support. The skin on her face was burned raw by the wind and thick, heavy flakes of snow had begun to fall from the laden sky, masking the darkening landscape in a haze of white. There was no point in continuing her journey in the darkness; to struggle on into the night would only waste further energy. She had to find shelter from the building elements or she would not live to see the dawn. There was no longer a wolf pack to watch over her and keep her warm this night. Pushing away from the cold rock, Rebaa forced her body to move, flitting between crags, doing her best to stay directly out of the wind.
Her numb feet were about to give out from under her when the cave rose out of the darkness. It’s jagged, black mouth split a low rock face almost in two. Yawning wide in the swirling snow, it offered salvation. Despite her numerous sins, Ninmah must still be watching over her.
Or so it seemed. Shivering, Rebaa hesitated on the threshold; survival instinct holding her in place. She could not see very far into the shadowy depths and the falling snow had obscured any footprints that might bet
ray a current occupant. There was a strong probability that something else had already made this place home. Something just as hungry as she was who wouldn’t mind a snack wandering so willingly into its den in the dead of winter.
Gathering her remaining energy, Rebaa reached out, trying to sense what might be hidden from her eyes. She did not wish to walk unwittingly into the lair of another predator as she had with the wolves. This time, she might not be so lucky.
There was nothing. No vibration of life shivered against her questing touch. The cave was empty. Relieved beyond words, Rebaa stumbled at last into its sheltering embrace. It was narrow, craggy and wound a long way back into the rock face. The scent of the cold, damp stone was unwelcoming but the musty tang of animal habitation was absent.
Bolstered, she ventured further inside feeling the temperature rise as she went. It was warmer out of the cruelty of the wind and the blanketing snow. It would be enough. Unable to stand on her feet any longer, Rebaa sank to the rocky floor, leaning her back into an alcove where the wall was smoother. When Ninmah was unmasked, she would try to re-find her way but for now she would rest until the snow storm passed.
Despite her exhaustion, sleep did not come immediately. After a day of listening to the constant crunch of her own footsteps and the howl of the wind through the hills, the silence of the cave was oppressive, unnerving. Rebaa strained her ears. Somewhere deeper inside, water was dripping from the damp ceiling into an unseen pool below. The sound echoed back and forth dimly from the surrounding rocks. Besides the faint whistling of the wind outside and the beating of her own heart, there was no other sound to be heard.
Sitting in the empty darkness, Rebaa had the irrational wish that she could have carried on trudging all through the night just for the company of her own footsteps. The concentration needed to keep putting one foot in front of the other had been a distraction. Now, in the silence of this cave, the sense of isolation threatened to crush her beneath its weight. The night stretched on, the wind howled, the water dripped and Rebaa remained alone.
Alone.
The emotions that she had been so carefully holding at bay broke loose from her control. Clutching at the carved spearhead that dangled over her heart, she dropped her head upon her knees and cried herself to sleep.
When she awoke, it was still dark. The clouds had moved on and she could see the glimmering pinpricks of silver sky spirits peeping through the cave opening. The wind had died having blown the storm out and there was a hushed stillness to the air.
She ought to be relieved by the reprieve from the incessant whining but she wasn’t. Instead a chill crept along Rebaa’s spine. Something had awoken her. Something more than just a lull in the wind. Instinctively, she froze in place, staring hard towards the empty mouth of the cave. She could hear nothing in the silence, only the continued drip drip of the water somewhere in the darkness behind. But something was wrong. Her skin was prickling, every instinct on alert. Rebaa recognised the dreaded sensation in an instant.
The feeling every prey animal knew and dreaded.
The sensation of being hunted.
Rebaa stopped breathing. She had no idea what it was that stalked her. The presence danced just beyond her senses. The Cro? The thought had barely crossed her mind when a greater terror caused her heart to leap against her ribs. The monsters of the Mountains.
Perhaps they had pursued her after all, their blood lust driving them to catch her, the last survivor of her clan, and finish what they had started.
She bit her lip hard to keep from whimpering in panic as ghostly, blood-stained hands reached for her out of the darkness of her mind. Her muscles thrilled with the need to flee, to get out of this trap before it was too late. She almost bolted for the entrance but on the exposed land, there was nowhere for her to go. She could not hope to outrun her pursuers, she was not fast enough but, if she laid low, her pursuer might miss the cave in the darkness. The heavy snow fall would have covered the tracks she had been careless enough to leave behind.
The nebulous presence swiftly solidified against her hypersensitive awareness and she knew the time for choosing was over. It was close. She concentrated harder and her heart skipped a beat. The approaching consciousness bore the chilling focus of a ravening hunter.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. The muffled sound of heavy footsteps sounded as a massive shadow fell across the mouth of the cave, blocking the twinkling spirits of the night sky. Blocking her escape. Rebaa flinched back as an unseen nose sniffed the air, searching for the prey it had been tracking. She felt it deliberate.
The heavy tread and the skitter of stones across rocky ground announced the creature’s entrance. It tested the air again and gave a hungry growl. Rebaa shrank into her alcove as all hope of remaining hidden evaporated. She had made the wrong choice.
The presence was vast but it was not that of the monsters she most feared. The thoughts brushing against hers were slow, deliberate and implacable. Rebaa knew them instantly to be those of a bear. She fought to control her breathing and remain silent. The scent of her fear was already damning.
The snuffling drew closer. The bear’s energy throbbed with excitement. It could certainly smell her but it could not see her. Yet. Rebaa gritted her teeth. The passage was narrow. There was no way this hunter would miss her in the blackness. As soon as she moved so much as a finger, she would be lost. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Two days alone and she had already failed Juran.
Her baby kicked inside her, restless, instantly snapping Rebaa out of her despair. It was not just her life hanging in the balance. She pushed her panic down. She had to think. Concentrating hard on the rocks around her, she shifted her energy to match her surroundings; slowing her heart rate as she cooled her body. Hiding her presence was a skill that had always come easily to her. As a child she had driven her tribe to distraction. But that was when she had been strong. She was not strong now. She was hungry, traumatised and exhausted. She almost didn’t have the power. Weak. Too weak.
The bear was so close now in the narrow passageway of the cave that she could feel its body heat. Rebaa held her breath, fighting to keep her concentration. The massive bulk swayed into view before her. Rebaa closed her eyes as the shaggy head swung around. Hot, damp breath saturated her face. The bear sniffed again and Rebaa tightened her fists, the cold sweat in her palms moist against her fingers. Go away! She thought at the creature. There is nothing here! But he did not move on. His great muzzle was a mere hand’s breadth from her flesh. He sniffed again. A confused rumble sounded in his chest.
This was no good. She could hide her presence all she liked. She could not hide her scent. The bear growled, sniffing harder. His lips peeled back from his thick teeth.
The illusion had failed. The only choice remaining was to run for her life. She needed a head start. Using what energy she had left, she drew on the power of the Great Spirit and touched the bear’s thoughts. Rebaa gave him the overwhelming sense of another presence deeper inside the cave. The only presence that would distract the beast now. The threat of another bear.
The bear’s angry bellow reverberated though Rebaa’s body. The great head swung away as the beast reared up to challenge its imagined adversary. Rebaa did not waste her chance. Released from the bear’s focus, she dropped her illusions and bolted. She had moments only. The rocks cut at her feet through their damp wrappings as she fled. She hardly felt the pain in her need to get away.
The cave shuddered as the bear dropped back to the stones with a heavy thud. Confusion aggravated its thoughts. There was a pause before another furious bellow rent the air as it spotted its prey escaping from beneath its very nose.
Rebaa burst from the cave as the beast gave chase. Her eyes darted. Ninsiku’s evil, silver eye was almost fully open in the night sky, staring down as he revealed her maliciously to her enemy. She searched for a bolt hole, anything to save herself. She tried to run faster, stumbling and falling and dragging herself back upright. She dared not look back. She didn’t
have to turn to know the bear was gaining on her with every mighty stride. The ground vibrated beneath her feet, signaling its proximity.
Rebaa reached again for the animal’s mind but her influence slipped away like water. He was not like the wolves. A loner, he had no regard for protecting family. And he was hungry. Rebaa’s people could influence the Great Spirit but the Power of the Earth, once set, was beyond any of them. She could not sway this creature. She was as good as dead.
She felt the bear gathering itself to lunge and dodged quickly. Heavy jaws snapped shut around the empty air where her arm had just been. A tree rose up from the shadows before her. Acting on pure instinct, Rebaa scrambled into its branches. The feel of rough bark beneath her fingers was a distant relief.
Bellowing, the bear swiped upwards. Rebaa screamed as she felt the massive claws rake her right leg, ripping through the furs and deep into her flesh. The pain was blinding. She almost lost her grip.
No, no, she chanted to herself, dragging herself higher even as she felt hot blood sliding down the torn skin and muscle of her calf.
She pushed herself to climb as high as she could go then clung there, staring down at her death. Rebaa’s blood and tears dripped down on to the bear’s upturned face. Its beady eyes were furious, filled with frustration. She was only just out of reach. The tree was thin, a twig in comparison to the bear’s monstrous strength. He could snap it like firewood if he so chose. She watched helplessly as the bear came to that same dreadful conclusion.
He reared up on his hind legs and slammed into the tree, hurling his weight against it again and again. The trunk creaked and splintered before the vicious onslaught.
Rebaa closed her eyes and cast one last prayer to Ninmah, pleading for forgiveness as she prepared her soul to join with the Great One. I’m sorry, Juran. I failed.
The spear came out of nowhere.
7