Daughter of the Night: A Book of The Moon People

by King, Claudia

  “I do not listen to what they say about me. Tell me, Mother, do you know the ways of the spirits?”

  A look of amusement crossed the elder's face, and she nodded. “I do. And I like that you call me Mother. The way your kind talk is sometimes very strange.”

  “I mean it only in respect.”

  “I know, Seer Adel, I know. And I think you have questions for me. I see it in your face.”

  Adel hesitated, making sure her father and mother were distracted in their own conversations at the alpha's fire before continuing. “It is said your people know magics different from our own. Some call you witches, and say you can speak with dark spirits.”

  The look of amusement vanished. “You try to show respect, and then you insult us?”

  “I do not mean to insult, I wish to learn. The seers of my pack have taught me many things, but there is some magic they still fear.”

  “And you do not?”

  “I fear nothing,” Adel said with a grimace.

  A hint of the seer's former smile returned, but it was without much mirth this time. “You are like your father. The warrior fears no enemy, and the seer fears no spirit. What can we tell you that your own seers cannot?”

  Adel leaned forward, lowering her voice lest it become too eager. “Is there a way to stop a woman from bearing a child?”

  “Of course. There are herbs to make her body refuse a man's seed. You must know this.”

  “I mean once the child is already growing within her. I know that the spirits can stop it. They sometimes end the child's life early, and the woman bleeds. If they have this power, then can a seer not harness it too? I wish to know how to speak with them, to make them do this at my will.”

  The elder gave her a glowering look, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “You ask to learn a dark magic, Seer Adel. Why would you want to know such a thing?”

  The girl's voice quavered as she felt the painful hollow in her chest opening up again, as raw and fresh as the day she had first felt it. “Sometimes a woman is too young, or too weak. I must know.”

  “What would your den mother do if she were to find out you learned this magic from us?”

  “Then there is a way?” Adel's eyes widened, eagerness rising in her voice. “You would teach me?”

  “There are many magics our people know that yours do not. You have yours, we have ours. If we told you this, what would you share in return?”

  Adel opened her mouth to speak, but before she could go any further a pair of long shadows fell over her, and she felt a hand pulling her up by the shoulder.

  “You're not to speak with them any more, Sister,” Karel said as he hauled her none-too-gently to her feet.

  She yanked herself free, rounding on her brother. Beside him stood one of the elder seers, her displeasure at having found an apprentice conversing with another clan's wise women evident on her face.

  “Their ways are not our own, Adel,” the woman chastised. “Do not let them put the names of their own spirits into your thoughts.”

  “Why not? I wish to learn, and I already know everything you could ever teach me.”

  “Watch your tongue, Sister,” Karel said, directing an apologetic look at the elder. “Forgive her, Mother, she never minds her place.”

  “You think too highly of yourself, girl. Until you wear the headdress of a seer, you will listen to the wisdom of your elders.”

  Adel glowered at the woman, glancing to the seers of Neman's pack in hope of aid, but they had already gone back to conversing in their own tongue, respectfully extricating themselves from the business of Ulric's pack.

  “Why must you be this way,” Karel said. “We only want what is best for you.”

  Before she could make matters any worse for herself, Adel bit back the response she felt struggling to claw its way out of her throat, turning away and striding back to her own hut. Karel was a fool. They all were. But her father's will and the traditions of their pack were all that mattered, weren't they? How could they be so...

  Adel took a deep breath, calming herself. She would have her own status one day soon. The pack would listen to her. Even the alpha would. All she had to do was be patient. All she had to do was try. Keep her questions to herself, and learn everything her elders had to teach her.

  She did not get another chance to speak with anyone from Neman's pack before they departed, but the desire to learn their strange ways still simmered within the girl's breast. Her thoughts kept her awake long into the night, pondering many things. If her people had known the magic of Neman's seers, might there have been a chance Uriel could have lived?

  The following morning she was woken early by her mother and ordered to go to her father's den, for the alpha wished to speak with her. Though some part of Adel still longed for the times she had spent playing with him out on the plains or sitting in his lap and listening to his stories, she had long since given up on recapturing anything approaching those moments with Ulric. They were gone along with Uriel, and all that remained were his orders and reprimands.

  At least, that was all Adel saw. In her youthful passion she could not recognise the pride and pain that lay behind her father's actions. Perhaps he truly did want the best for her, but against a daughter whose wilfulness matched his own, Ulric seemed unable to be both father and alpha at the same time.

  Adel hurried to the alpha's den without tarry, not truly knowing why. Perhaps she simply wanted to end the exchange as quickly as possible, or perhaps that youthful part of her still hoped, somehow, that her father wanted nothing more than to spend time with her. Of course, that was foolish. As she parted the furs that hung from the den's arched entrance, she found her father sitting upon his seat of carved wood and decorated bone with a mirthless expression upon his face. Threads of silver had begun to appear in his raven black hair, lines creeping from the corners of his eyes to join the thin scars he had worn ever since going north to fight alongside his warriors. In his hands he held a beaten copper knife, the brown piece of metal bent at the tip and slightly twisted near the base where it had been forced into a smooth wooden handle. Ulric rotated the tool in his hands as his daughter approached, examining the craftsmanship that was foreign to his people.

  “You spoke with Alpha Neman's seers last night?” he said.

  “Who told you?”

  Ulric gave her a weary look. “When you say these things, Adel, I begin to wonder how much more you hide from me. Is it so difficult for you to be honest with your alpha?”

  “Why must I tell you everything—”

  “Answer my question, girl,” he snapped.

  Adel's eye twitched as she bit back one of a dozen heated responses that had been lingering on the tip of her tongue. “Yes. What of it?”

  “What did you ask them?”

  “Nothing.”

  Ulric huffed a heavy breath from his nostrils. “When have you ever asked nothing when given the chance? Never mind, I care not. The ways of seers are their own to keep, but you must respect the wisdom of your elders. Do not taint us by trying to bring Alpha Neman's ways into our clan. Their spirits are as dark as the skin they wear.”

  “Why not make war on him, if his ways frighten you so much?” Adel's curled her lip defiantly, unable to withhold her scorn any longer.

  Ulric shot to his feet in an instant, tossing the knife aside. Adel backed away as he strode forward, but her short steps did nothing to help her evade the alpha's wrath as his palm cracked hard against her cheek, pain erupting in the side of her face with the promise of a bruise. She fought not to stumble, tensing her legs and keeping her back straight as she grit her teeth through the pain.

  “How many times must I do this until you learn?” the alpha said, his voice deep with sadness. “Uriel always listened to me. She never spoke back. She trusted in my love for her.”

  “I am not Uriel,” Adel replied, drawing herself back upright and sticking out her chin. Much to her pleasure, she realised that she was almost tal
l enough to meet her father's eye.

  “No, and it saddens me every day. When you are an old woman you will look back on these years and feel nothing but shame for yourself. You will understand that I wished only for your happiness, and you fought against it like a bitter child. Well, you are a child no longer, Adel. It is time you were mated. Perhaps then you will learn to behave as a woman should.”

  “I will take no mate,” she replied.

  “This is not a choice. You will do as I say. Tell me which of the men you desire and I shall consider it, but by this summer's end you will be mated.”

  “No.” Adel had never spoken the word as firmly as she did then. Her palms clenched into fists at her sides. She glared back at her father with pure defiance, the hollow in her chest filling up with fire.

  “Daughter,” Ulric said, his eyes creasing with strain. “There is no need for this.”

  “I told you, I will take no mate.”

  The alpha's nostrils flared, and for a moment he appeared to hesitate. Adel wondered whether finally, after all these years, he was willing to listen to her. Then his hand struck her cheek again, and this time she felt the dig of his knuckles. A soft sound of pain left her lips. Once again she fought the reeling sensation and maintained her balance, drawing herself back up to face her father. Then he hit her again. And again. She tried to bare her teeth at him, but her lip split open as the back of his hand caught her across the jaw, filling her mouth with blood. The girl stumbled, bringing her fingers to her mouth as dribbles of red ran from her pale chin. The heel of Ulric's palm hammered into her ear, then against her unprotected side as she tried to shield her face. Winded by the blow, she crumpled, the insides of her head feeling loose and dizzy, gripped with crushing pain. He beat her until her eyes were full of water and half of her body throbbed, her efforts to stand back up finally succumbing to her father's rain of blows.

  The heat of Adel's anger ached through her bruises, burning so hot and so helplessly that she wanted to sob. She quivered on the ground, fingernails digging in her palms as she struggled to keep the whimpers of pain out of her laboured breathing.

  Ulric covered his face with a palm, turning away from his daughter. His chest rose and fell heavily, and for a time he seemed unable to speak. The he lifted a shaking hand and pointed toward the den's entrance, refusing to look at Adel. “Go and have the seers tend to you.”

  Fighting against the cramping sensation digging into her right side, Adel dragged herself upright and spat a mouthful of blood upon the ground. Her head pounded with every breath. There was a ringing in her ears that stifled her ability to balance. Though tears of pain filled her eyes, she refused to let them fall as she shot one final dark look at her father's back, before limping out through the hanging furs.

  —5—

  Isolation

  Adel could not bear the shame of dragging herself before the other seers and enduring their looks of reproach. She knew she would find no sympathy there. Many of them would no doubt be glad the alpha's headstrong daughter had finally been dealt the punishment she deserved for her years of subdued insolence. They would sigh. They would chastise. They would lecture. Surely now young Adel would learn to be obedient, would she not? A male her age would have suffered a beating even worse had he shown such disrespect to his betters.

  It sickened her, only making her anger burn brighter at the thought of it. She did not need their help. She could not bear to hear their condescending words. Part of her had always known this day might come, but she had never quite believed Ulric would raise his hand so savagely to his own daughter. He would never have beaten Uriel.

  Hiding her swollen face, she limped to the edge of the camp and headed out across the plains, praying that no one would follow after her. No one could see her shame. Her hurt. She realised that morning, as she dragged herself through the long grass, that her dreams of status and respect would never be as she had envisioned them. It was simply not the way of the world, that a woman like her could ever exert her will over an alpha. Oh, she could counsel, she could whisper advice, she could seed ideas and work gently to persuade Ulric of them, just as her mother did, but only if she was the obedient female he wanted her to be. Only if she relinquished any hope of making her own decisions, deciding her own destiny. Was she selfish? Did she desire too much? Uriel had been loved by everyone, but it had come at the cost of her own happiness. Even her own life.

  Adel ignored her doubts, letting her tears fall in anger rather than self-pity. She could take to the legs of her wolf and run, and keep running. Forget her aspirations of status and power, live freely without the need for an alpha or a mate. Something about that idea seemed quite beautiful to her, but she knew it was one she could never truly embrace. With Uriel gone, Adel's status was all she had left. Following the path of the seer had become everything to her, and without it, she was nothing.

  Hounded by her thoughts, she grit her teeth and took the shape of her wolf, expressing her defiance by refusing to succumb to the pain of her injuries. She ran all morning, making her way to a place she often sought out when she was in need of solitude. It was a spot she and Uriel had found near a tributary that broke off from the far side of the river, secret and special to them. A spiritual place, shrouded beneath the boughs of old trees where a clear pool swirled before running off into another stream. Adel needed its soothing isolation that day.

  After paddling across the river at a shallow ford, she reverted from the shape of her wolf and made the rest of the journey on foot, letting the warmth of the sun dry her off and soothe her throbbing skin. Her face was badly swollen, and she would wear her bruises for several days before they healed, but acknowledging how much her father had hurt her would be allowing him to win. He could beat her all he wanted, but she would not take a mate.

  Adel lifted her soft deerskin shawl from her bare shoulder, wincing as she probed her bruises. Her arms were skinny and weak, pale from the amount of time she spent out of the sun. Even the run to the river had wearied her. Perhaps, she considered, she might grow strong if she made the same run every day.

  A sprig of leafy weeds caught the girl's eye, and she plucked several of them to chew on as she walked, letting the milky sap fill her mouth with a numbing, tingling sensation that eased some of the pain in her cheek. There had been no time for her to eat that day, and the taste of the weeds, bitter as they were, made her stomach rumble. She was no huntress, but she knew her plants, and a keen eye watching the undergrowth was all she needed to pick out enough berries and edible tubers to sate her hunger.

  By the time she arrived at her spot, some of Adel's anger had faded. All she felt now was a deep, painful weight in her chest. In the past she would have shared it with Uriel, and her sister's comfort would have made it light enough to bear. But now the burden was hers alone, and she feared it was becoming too much for her. Did her father still intend to choose a mate for her? If he did, how many more times would she have to feel his fists if she resisted? Would it even do her any good to try?

  She shuffled to the edge of the pool, probing her tender side with her fingers. She was stiff from running when she should have been resting. A loud sniff left her nostrils, and she blinked back the warm tears brimming in her eyes. Adel rarely cried, but when she did she always made sure that no one was present to witness it. And so, out of habit more than anything, she cast her gaze quickly around the edges of the pool. Had she not, she might have slumped down to weep without ever noticing the figure seated on the opposite side.

  The girl froze as her eyes alighted on the man—no, the boy—who was watching her from the edge of the water with a quizzical expression on his face. His skin was dark as the earth, hair braided into thick ropes that were tied back in a loose tail behind his head. A necklace of animal teeth rested against his bare chest, and his full lips held a smile that, had Adel been in a very different mood, she might have found quite handsome.

  She scowled at the young man, turning her face away to hide the side t
hat was marred with the worst of her bruises. He was one of Neman's people, but she did not recall seeing him with the others that had come to visit her father. What was he doing here, in her spot? Her anger flared back to life, incensed that someone else was present to steal her refuge away from her.

  “Get away from here!” she called across to him. “This is my father's territory.”

  “Is it?” he replied in a light, murmuring voice. “I could have sworn this pool belonged to the fish. They have been stealing my bait all day. Never challenge the fish-alpha who makes the fisherman his fool.” He lifted a length of branch next to him that trailed a line of cord into the water.

  “You're the fool talking of fish! Go away!” Adel lifted her arm and jabbed a finger to the south.

  “Can't we share? I promise, I will not bother you if you do not bother me.” He leaned back against a crooked root, rolling his shoulders in a gesture of exaggerated comfort.

  “This is my spot,” Adel said.

  “I always thought it was mine. Ah, but I don't use all of it, so you can have some. You have that side of the stream, I'll have this one.”

  Adel turned away from him, pressing a palm to her brow. She wanted to scream at him, but she knew the effort would bring on her tears and turn her into even more of a wretched mess. And yet, the thought of heading back to the den made her want to fall to her knees and curl into a ball. She stood with her back turned, silent in indecision, until the young man spoke again. This time the lightness of his voice held a note of consideration.

  “Why are you sad? I can guess, but... why?”

  “Keep your guesses to yourself,” Adel said.

  He shrugged, turning his attention back to the water. “If that is what you would prefer, suhmeen.”

  She rounded on him again, a look of perplexity on her face. “What?”

  “If that is what you would prefer,” he repeated.

  “No, what did you call me?”