Bravelands #4

by Erin Hunter

  He put an elegant paw forward and hunched down to sniff tentatively at the two cubs. They stopped capering and gazed up at him, wide-eyed. “Young cheetahs?” he rumbled in bewilderment.

  Sky nodded. “Nimble and Lively have been traveling with us. They are the cubs of Rush.”

  “Rush of the Gray River? I know her.”

  Sky lowered her eyes. “Rush was killed,” she told Fleet as the other cheetahs approached to peer at the cubs. “They need someone to look after them. They’re too young to be on their own.”

  Fleet took a startled pace back. “I am sorry to hear about Rush,” he purred. “But we can’t look after them.”

  “No indeed,” said another of the cheetahs, his eyes wide with surprise. “We males don’t raise cubs. We don’t know how.”

  “I understand that,” said Sky, stirring the dust with one foot and letting Nimble and Lively pat playfully at her toes. “But Rush had littermates, didn’t she? I heard her talk about them. They’re female, I think?”

  “Both of them.” Fleet nodded. “Sleek is with her own cubs right now. I haven’t seen Breeze in some time, but they may be together. You’ll find them farther down this valley. Follow the streambed that’s almost dry. Beyond a rockfall beside a copse of thorn trees—you can’t miss the spot. That’s the beginning of Sleek’s territory.”

  “Thank you, Fleet. Good hunting to you.” Sky dipped her head to the cheetahs, and she and Rock walked on toward the streambed, the cubs trotting between them.

  From the edge of her vision she could see that Fleet and his coalition were staring after them, and she caught his mutter: “The strangest things are happening in Bravelands these days. . . .”

  The cheetah had explained it perfectly; the tumble of fallen rocks was distinctive, and a grove of thorn trees grew nearby, their roots clinging to the dry bank. Sky cocked her ears as they strode on, and she let her gaze rove across the sloping ground, alert for any sign of Sleek and her cubs.

  “This cheetah may be far from her cubs, and hunting,” warned Rock. “We may have to wait for her to return, perhaps for days.”

  “I know . . . but look over there!” Sky halted, smiling, then broke into a slow trot. “There, Rock!”

  The mother cheetah lay in the shade of a small hillock, five tiny cubs competing to nurse at her belly. At the elephant’s approach, she sprang nimbly to her paws, dislodging her infants, and her muzzle wrinkled in warning.

  “Sleek?” Sky slowed and stopped, twitching her trunk nervously. I mustn’t alarm her! “You are Sleek, sister of Rush of the Gray River?”

  Warily, Sleek nodded. “I am. What is it to you?”

  Sky lowered her head respectfully, and beside her Rock did the same. “I am Sky Strider, and this is my friend Rock. We’ve been searching for you and Breeze, because—” Hesitating, she glanced down at the cubs, who had just caught up and were staring at Sleek, jaws parted in awe. “Because Rush died, Sleek. She has left these cubs, and they need protection.”

  Sleek watched the cubs for a long moment, silent. Her thick black tail-tip twitched. Her own cubs, far smaller than Nimble and Lively, squirmed and mewled.

  “I am sorry,” the cheetah said at last, her voice even. “I have five cubs of my own, and it’s all I can do to protect them.” She flicked her tail, and Sky followed the gesture. The cubs were mewing pitifully for their mother, thin little things with half-open eyes.

  “I can’t afford to take on more,” added Sleek. “Not even my own sister’s cubs.”

  “Truly, Sleek?” The rejection was so sudden, so uncompromising, Sky felt shocked frustration rise in her throat. “Can’t you try? They’re so small.”

  “No. It isn’t possible. I’m sorry, Sky Strider.”

  Sky clenched her jaws, her heart fluttering in distress. But as the uncomfortable silence stretched, she could reluctantly accept the cheetah’s reasoning. She may not even manage to keep her own cubs alive.

  “What about Breeze?” Sky suggested, making her tone bright and positive once more. “Do you know where we can find her?”

  “Breeze?” Sleek flicked an ear forward. “Breeze is dead. It seems I have lost both my sisters.”

  “Oh.” Sky felt a lurch of despair. “I’m sorry, Sleek.”

  “Was Breeze sick?” asked Rock gently.

  “Anything but.” Sitting down, Sleek hunched her shoulders. “She was the quickest, strongest cheetah I knew. That’s what was so strange.”

  Sky frowned. Quick and strong. Breeze sounded a lot like Rush, yet both sisters had fallen to an unforeseen killer. And Sleek had called her death strange. . . .

  Sleek sighed deeply, interrupting Sky’s thoughts. “My sister was in a bizarre state of mind, though. Lately, anyway. Imagining terrors, seeing creatures that weren’t there. She may have panicked, fled straight into real hunters. Still, whatever killed her must have been fast and powerful.”

  Fast. Powerful. And cruel enough to take a living heart? Sky shuddered.

  “Whatever it was, it didn’t eat her.” Sleek twitched her whiskers in resignation. “Odd. But odd things are happening these days.”

  Sky felt a tremor of foreboding. It was as if Sleek was echoing her own ominous thoughts. “May Breeze hunt well in the stars,” said Rock solemnly.

  Sleek lowered her head. “Thank you. But you’ll understand, I can’t take Rush’s cubs myself. I’m afraid they’ll have to fend for themselves.”

  There was no more Sky could do. “They’re so little . . .” she murmured, mostly to herself. “So vulnerable.”

  “Sky, don’t worry.” Rock butted her gently. “Perhaps we can find another cheetah, or . . .”

  Sky straightened, lifting her head in determination. “Or they can simply stay with us.”

  “That sounds like a reasonable solution.” Sleek nodded, lying down again next to her cubs.

  “Sky, are you sure about this?” Rock looked startled.

  “Yes. I’m sure. I won’t abandon them now. And we’ve done all right so far, haven’t we?”

  “But the cubs . . . surely they need to be with other cheetahs.” Rock stroked Lively’s fluffy head with the tip of his trunk.

  Lively and her brother were looking from Rock to Sky in trepidation. Nimble swallowed hard.

  “We can’t hunt, little ones, so we can’t teach you,” Sky told them gently, “but you’ll learn as you grow, I’m sure of it. You have your mother’s strength, and her cleverness. Deep inside, you know what to do. I have faith in you—and in the Great Spirit who will guide you.”

  Nimble’s little chest swelled. “Do you really think so?”

  Sky smiled. “I really do. And until then, I’ll protect you. We’ll find food somehow. If you cubs are happy to stay?”

  “I like traveling with you,” said Lively shyly.

  “Me too!” Nimble pranced up and batted Sky’s trunk. “Grubs don’t taste too bad anyway. We like being with you, Sky. And Rock.”

  “We’re having fun,” agreed his sister, adding nervously, “if you don’t walk too fast?”

  “You can stay with us for as long as you need to.” Sky curled her trunk around both the little cheetahs. She glanced up at Rock. “We’ll manage, I know it.”

  “I believe you,” he assured her, tilting his ears forward. “But the sun’s going down, Sky. We should find shelter before nightfall.”

  She nodded. “Good-bye, Sleek. I wish you good fortune.”

  “And the same to you,” purred the mother cheetah as her cubs latched on to nurse again. “I believe we all need it. The times are strange and dangerous, Sky Strider.”

  Sleek was right, thought Sky, as she watched the stars twinkle into life above her. An unseen stream trickled and gurgled in the darkness of the undergrowth. Nimble and Lively were nestled in a hollow stump nearby, concealed by foliage; she could hear their tiny purring snores, and Sky was glad they could sleep so soundly. They must truly trust her and Rock, she realized with a little skip of her heart. Rock had scent-marked t
he trees and stones around their sleeping-place, a thorough warning to any predators that a bull elephant was near; with luck that would deter any flesh-eaters from venturing near the vulnerable cubs.

  There would be peace for a few night hours—or there would be, if only Sky knew what the Great Spirit planned for her now. Nothing seemed to be straightforward anymore, she thought. After the Great Battle with Stinger and his forces, she had thought life would be simpler; instead it seemed more complicated than ever.

  But it was she who had killed Stinger. And if the Great Spirit was still watching over Bravelands—and she had to believe it was—perhaps caring for these orphaned cubs would redeem her in its all-seeing eyes. Great Mother, she thought yet again, how I wish you were still here. I would dearly love to talk to you, just one more time.

  Though if the new Great Parent would only show themselves, Sky thought, at least life could begin to get back to normal. . . .

  Rock loomed from the darkness beside her. “Sky,” he murmured. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she reassured him. There was nothing he could do about her worries, so there was no point burdening him. But as she curled her trunk around his, his touch, usually so solid and reassuring, was strangely hesitant and nervous.

  Sky stepped back, studying him. “What is it, Rock?”

  He took a breath. “I . . . I want to say something to you, Sky. But it’s . . . difficult for me.”

  She gazed into his eyes. “Whatever it is,” she said softly, “don’t worry. We’re safe, at least for tonight. And whatever you want to tell me—that’s safe with me forever.”

  His head drooped slightly. “I don’t know how to begin. . . .”

  Sky’s heart tightened with apprehension. Perhaps he doesn’t want to be with me anymore. . . . Perhaps the cubs are too much responsibility for him after all. . . .

  But she was strong, Sky reminded herself. She had fought in the Great Battle for Bravelands. She had lost Great Mother, and lived. She had carried the Great Spirit in her own heart, searching for its new host. Whatever Rock had to tell her, however sad, she could bear it. She gave him a calm nod.

  “Just begin,” she said softly. “Tell me, Rock.”

  She felt his hide tremble against hers, and when he spoke his voice was hoarse. “You—you have changed my life, Sky. You’ve been an inspiration to me. You’re so brave—ever since I first saw you, the day you fought to defend Moon, I have admired you more than any elephant I’ve met.”

  “That’s . . . that’s kind of you, Rock,” she stammered, taken aback. His compliments made her feel suddenly awkward. Was he saying such things to let her down gently, to ease the moment of his leaving? “I only did what I had to.”

  “That’s just it.” His green gaze was intense and bright. “You’ve done all that you had to, Sky—and you’ve done it with a courageous heart, without ever losing your sweet kindness and your sense of justice and—and fairness, and . . . I . . . I find myself drawn to you and I . . . I’m expressing this so badly, Sky, I’m sorry—”

  Gently, Sky touched her trunk to his brow, and he lifted his dark green eyes to stare into hers. “What is it, Rock? What’s wrong? Tell me.”

  “Not wrong, Sky, never wrong, but—I’m bad at saying such things. That’s all.” Rock drew a deep, steadying breath and straightened. His gaze met hers.

  “Will—will you be my life-mate, Sky?”

  She gasped. Her heart tripped and thudded in her chest, and she took an involuntary step back. “Rock. Oh, Rock. I didn’t expect—” Her voice dried in her throat as his words sank in. “We’re both so young still. . . .”

  Rock and I. Life-mates . . .

  Could he possibly mean what he was saying? Of all things, she had truly not expected this. Yet however hard she tried to still her racing blood and think calmly, she could not deny the flood of excitement rushing through her. There was a deep, golden warmth in her chest; it took her long, shocked moments to recognize pure happiness. It suffused her whole body.

  But I have to be sensible! Both of us do. . . .

  “Rock,” she said hoarsely. “Think about what you’re saying.”

  “I have,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to hers. “I’ve thought about it over and over, Sky.”

  She paused, gathering herself, summoning all her inner strength. But why am I arguing, why am I protesting?

  Because she had to, she knew. There was more at stake than her own happiness.

  “Why, Rock? Why would you want to be with me?” Her voice rasped with the effort of denying him. “Life would not be easy as my mate, you know that. I’m not like other elephants. I don’t stay with the herd; I defy the matriarchs—and at the most vital moments of my family’s journey. I’ve carried the Great Spirit inside me, and I know it will need me again—and I will have to be there for it. I have to do as it wishes, always.” She lowered her eyelashes and swallowed hard. “And, Rock—more serious than all that: I’ve broken the Code. I’ve killed.”

  For a moment that seemed to stretch forever, Rock was silent and still. Then, with his trembling trunk, he touched her cheek.

  “You think I don’t know all that, Sky?” he whispered. “It’s what makes you special. All the things that make you different, Sky Strider—they are why I love you.”

  “Rock.” Overwhelmed, she leaned into his head, closing her eyes. How could she resist him?

  Or rather, why would she? She didn’t even want to. She made one last, strenuous effort. “But what I said is true. We’re so young, both of us. . . .”

  “I know.” He gave a deep, shaky sigh. “But we can still promise ourselves to each other. Sky, I’ve known for a long time that I want to be with you. I just didn’t know how to ask. I’m sorry if—if this upsets you. If I’ve been clumsy. If I’ve said the wrong—”

  “No.” She shook her head. “No, Rock. I’m not upset, nothing like it. I’m glad.” She pressed her head to his, reveling in its hard strength. “All right. Yes. If this is crazy, so be it. Yes, Rock. I want to be your life-mate.”

  “Oh, Sky.” He sounded choked. “Then we should take our vow together.”

  “We should do it now,” she whispered. “The night’s so beautiful.”

  With a nod, he hooked his trunk over her neck. “Come with me. I know the place.”

  Sky followed him, their feet splashing into the cool water of the stream that was hidden by overgrown foliage. Her heart thudded in her chest as they followed the water’s course, until it broadened into a deep, still pool. Palms and fig trees clustered thickly around its banks, but above the elephants was the open sky; stars glittered above them and on the surface of the pool at their feet. As Rock waded into the water and Sky followed him, their ripples shattered the reflections into sparkling streaks.

  Rock stood very still as Sky faced him. “This pool,” he murmured. “It’s sacred. I’ve heard about this valley before, and this part of it especially. My brothers have come here with their life-mates for the same purpose.”

  “It’s perfect,” she said softly, letting her eyes flicker around the starlit glade. “It’s so beautiful. What better place to make such a promise?”

  “There’s just one thing.” Rock cleared his throat. “I don’t know the true ceremony, Sky. I don’t really know what to do.”

  His admission should have dampened her joy, but instead, a sudden warm certainty stirred inside her.

  “Yes, you do,” she whispered. “I think deep down we both do. The ritual will come from our hearts. The Great Spirit will guide us.”

  Quivering, Rock stretched out his trunk, and Sky extended hers to touch it. They coiled their trunks together, nestling their heads close. No visions swamped her, no fearful images sparked in her head to distract her from the moment. The last of her doubts and fears dissolved in the quiet darkness of the glade. All around, Sky heard the piping of tree frogs, the gentle whirr of crickets and cicadas. From far in the trees, a night bird gave a haunting cry. She could hear Roc
k’s breathing, too, deep and tremulous like her own.

  As if at a secret inner signal, they stepped back from each other at the same time. Gazing into Rock’s dark green eyes, Sky dipped her trunk to the water, then lifted it and sprayed his neck and back. As she closed her eyes, she heard him touch the water too, and then she felt the cool splash of water on her own hide.

  Sky blinked her eyes open and saw that Rock was gazing into them. She couldn’t look away. Around them, the stars seemed to have fluttered down from the sky to glow golden around them; then Sky realized they were fireflies, dancing above their reflections in the shimmering water. Over and over again the two elephants splashed each other gently, until at last they stood quite still, their trunks linked once more. A long sigh escaped Rock, and he closed his eyes.

  Their trunks slipped apart, slow and reluctant, and Sky raised hers skyward. Drawing a deep breath, she trumpeted her joy to the stars, and Rock joined her, their calls harmonizing and echoing until they faded into the night.

  Silence fell around them, undisturbed by anything but the hum of fireflies.

  “Did we do it right?” she whispered, warmth and happiness filling her heart.

  “Oh yes, Sky.” Rock pressed his trunk to hers once again. “I think we’ve done everything exactly as we’re meant to.”

  CHAPTER 16

  “Oh, stars, where is he now?” Exasperated, Thorn stared around the grassland, then parted the scrubby bushes with his paws and peered through them. “Spider! Spider! Where are you?”

  There was nothing in the undergrowth but a few scattered scorpion husks and discarded tails. The eccentric baboon was nowhere in sight, and no reply came to Thorn’s calls. Thorn tutted and growled, then dusted his paws together and turned away. Maybe the oddball baboon had wandered off somewhere else. Maybe he was having incomprehensible chats with egrets and beetles and snakes. Maybe he’d find a meerkat to befriend, and maybe this time he wouldn’t end up accused of its murder. Thorn had enough worries without hunting Spider across Bravelands; Spider would be fine. He bounded back to Tall Trees.