by Claudia King
"They will have to, if our pack is to survive. But that is for me to worry over. Look up there." Adel gestured with her free hand. The roof of the inner cave seemed to be much higher than that of its antechamber, if the source of light was anything to go by. It was roughly the height of three people above them, shining dimly off the outline of another opening. The incline looked shallow enough to scale, and it was broad enough for both women to fit through alongside one another.
"Hold the torch, let me see if I can get up there," Adel said, picking her way over to a pile of rocks at the edge of the chamber.
"Are you sure this is wise, Den Mother? What if you fall?"
"Then I shall have plenty of seers on hand to tend me. Hold the light up, woman, I need to see where I am going."
Fortunately, the climb was an easy one. The rocks were not of the same powdery red consistency as those down below, and they remained strong and stable beneath Adel's feet. As she looked down from the top of the pile, she reflected that a few of the wooden boards Netya had been cutting might make the journey up and down even easier.
After a few sharp encouragements she managed to get Meadow to follow her up, and they made their way along the upper passage until it opened out through a brightly lit cleft in the rock.
The sky shone down from above, and grass bloomed beneath their feet, but the sight that beheld them when they emerged on the top of the ridge took even Adel's breath away.
A hidden glade sat tucked between the impassable stone cliffs on either side, commanding a majestic view of the land around them over the north and south edges. The trees they had spotted when they first arrived were clustered together in a small grove at the far end, while closer by a glittering lake stretched out across half the area, trickling over the edge to feed the waterfalls that cascaded down the cliffside.
"By the spirits," Meadow said softly. "Did your visions tell you of this place?"
"I do not recall. If they did, it was not on my mind."
"They must have led you here. How else could we have happened upon such good fortune?" Meadow put the torch down on the rocks and hurried to the edge of the pool, sinking her bare toes into the mud around the edge as she let out a laugh of elation. "Look at this earth! We could grow herbs, even food here! And the trees—these ones will bear fruit when the seasons are right, and those, by the edge, they are the kind Netya uses for her woodworking."
Adel wandered to the northern edge of the glade, leaving Meadow to paddle around the edge of the lake as she clambered up the rocks and peered out over the lands that lay to the north. She could make out many of the places they had travelled through on their way to the valley, and there seemed no way up to the glade save for the path they had taken through the cave to get there. It was truly a secret, sacred place.
A dozen new ideas began rushing through the den mother's mind as she walked the full circumference of the area, finally meeting Meadow back beside the lake.
"Find those who best know the ways of cultivating plants," she said. "It is as you say. We will be able to grow everything we need in this soil."
"I can almost feel the touch of the spirits in the waking world here," the seer said, all of her timidity forgotten as she closed her eyes and spread her arms wide, smiling up at the sky.
Adel gave her a weary look. The spirits were powerful, but many seers had a habit of letting their imaginations conjure them up out of nothing. Still, even if Meadow's reaction was overly dramatic, Adel could not deny that she felt it too, and so she allowed her companion a few moments of indulgence before clapping her hands together sharply to break the woman's reverie.
"The others. Go and find them. You may meditate in this place later. And Meadow," she called after her startled companion as the woman hurried back in the direction of the cave. "I am fortunate you came to me with your idea this morning. This place is a great blessing upon us, and we have you to thank for discovering it."
Meadow left the glade in high spirits, and for the rest of the day she had a glow of contentment about her that was rarely seen.
Adel sat by herself at the edge of the glade, perching upon the rocks as she watched her people come and go, examining the ground and making plans for how they could sow their seeds. The glade was a great blessing indeed. Whether they had been guided there by the spirits or not, Adel knew it would prove invaluable in the months to come.
When she made her way back to her cave that evening, the beginnings of a plan had started to form in the den mother's mind. It would rely on many other things aligning in her favour, but it was a plan nonetheless. One that might perhaps elevate her clan to a position of great status at the pack gathering.
Once the rest of the pack had retired to their caves, Adel sat up by her fire and dropped a pinch of the yellowish-red rock dust she had collected into the flames. The flicker of violet returned.
With a smile, the den mother laid out the rest of her ingredients, and began to work.
—9—
Alpha Miral
Both fear and anticipation fought in Netya's mind as she began making her preparations for the journey to the gathering of the packs that summer. It had been the better part of a year since Adel's pack broke away from Khelt's, and the time seemed to have run on by like the waters of a steady-flowing river. Only the long winter had interrupted what had otherwise been week after week of focused travel, hunting, foraging, and in the last few months, the work of making a new home for themselves in the valley.
There had barely even been time for Netya to continue her training as a seer, though she did not begrudge her mentor's apparent absence. Whatever Adel had been doing in her cave by herself, whether it was working with her black feathers, making strange concoctions from dust and oils, or simply meditating on the future, Netya trusted it was important enough to keep the den mother's attention focused inwards.
In the meantime, there were more than enough other concerns occupying the young woman's days and nights. Using her limited knowledge of how her people had crafted their wooden houses and furnishings—and substituting the robust metal tools they had used for more basic flint equivalents—she had gradually worked with Briar until the craftswoman was able to carve short wooden boards from the logs they felled nearby, fixing them together with rough joints and birch tar glue.
Their efforts had yet to come to fruition in the form of anything resembling the woodwork Netya's people had been capable of, but Briar was confident that the techniques would eventually allow them to shore up their caves with more sturdy coverings for the winter. Already she had begun laying down her smoothest boards packed on top of clay-rich mud to make easier pathways up and down the side of the valley, and Netya was happy to hand off woodworking duties to her partner once she had mastered the basics. Crafting was too slow and arduous a task for Netya, and a great many splinters and cuts from chipped flint only reconfirmed to the young woman that it was not to be her calling.
The work had been a constant distraction, however, from her dormant wolf, and the trepidation she still felt at the prospect of falling pregnant with Caspian's child. She no longer had the excuse of an uncertain, unsettled future, and her efforts to avoid making love with her man—in the most traditional way, at least—soon wore thin. She knew she should have been able to speak with him about it, but it had been easier to lose herself in the daily tasks of working with Briar or foraging in the lands nearby.
After so much change and upheaval, she was afraid of even considering the possibility of yet more uncertainty in her life. She was afraid of acknowledging the terror that lay sleeping with her wolf. If it rose up and took control again, what could she do?
It was difficult to feel the unspoken sense of discomfort that grew between her and Caspian as a result, but it was easy to forget during the days when she busied herself with more cheerful tasks, almost as if the chilling night of the flood had never even happened. Almost as if she had never taken the burden of Khelt's bite, and the wolf it had put inside her.
/> But her months of distraction were not to last. The time of the pack gathering was upon them, and Netya was one of those chosen to accompany the den mother on her journey to the south.
"The gathering is a show of power," Adel said as she addressed her followers, all of them gathered together outside the central cavern in the midsummer heat. "So power is what we must present to the other packs. I will have no patience for the wounded pride of those who disagree with my choice of who to bring." She eyed the gathering, making sure they understood. "The men will all accompany me. Caspian, Rokan, and Hari. The fairest and most talented of the young women: Netya, Fern, and Selo. Ura and Yenna have great skill as seers, and the cunning to demonstrate it with the most grandeur to others, so they shall join us as well. The rest of you will remain here and watch over the valley, and continue our preparations for winter."
Netya's heart leapt when her name was spoken, but others around her were clearly less than enthusiastic about being left behind. Lyucia seemed particularly incensed at not being counted among the fairest and most talented. Adel's pre-emptive glare silenced any dissent from being voiced, however, and it was only Fern who spoke up to interject.
"What of Wren?" she said. "She has never attended a gathering before. Is it not time she learned of the other packs?"
"In safer times, I might agree," Adel replied, "but children rarely strike awe into the hearts of others. Our purpose is to stake a claim, not to educate our youngster."
"Children may not inspire awe, but they might encourage sympathy," Lyucia's mother offered. "It is easier for packs to challenge one another when they see only warriors and hunters arrayed against them."
Wren stared down at the ground as the others talked over her, clearly uncomfortable at being the subject of such a discussion.
"It has been months since she spoke to anyone of her own age," Fern said more softly, putting an arm around the girl. "How many years might it be before she has another chance?"
The den mother's expression remained severe, but she listened to the words of her followers patiently. "I still think it unwise," she said at last, "but I am not deaf to your concerns. I shall consider it before we leave."
Before anyone else had a chance to make their own attempts at swaying her decision, Adel drew herself up and pointed to the sun high above them. "Five days from now, when the sun is at this height, we shall depart for the gathering. I know not how many weeks we shall be gone, but if all goes well we will return before the wet season, and perhaps with greater numbers to bring into our fold. Those who I have named, make yourselves ready to travel." Her gaze lingered on Netya poignantly. "You will all need the legs and wits of your wolves on the path we must take."
Those next five days felt longer than the past year. The den mother's words chased Netya through her dreams every night, as if calling her to face a challenge she had spent too much time running away from.
Caspian put his arms around her the evening before they were to depart, drawing her in close as they curled up together on the furs inside their small cave. She felt his lips tracing the back of her neck tenderly, his talented fingers slipping beneath her clothing to caress her stomach, and for a moment she almost allowed herself to close her eyes and give in. But the anxiety clawing its way up her spine froze out any traces of passion from her body, and she shifted uncomfortably against him, tugging his hand away from her belly.
"It cannot just be your wolf," Caspian sighed. He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice, but she could tell he was frustrated. It was far from the first time she had avoided being intimate with him.
"It is all my wolf," she replied. "What if I cannot control her again? What if I do something foolish at the gathering?"
"You need to face it," he said. "You cannot keep living this way. Denying yourself any risk." His hand returned to her belly, and his tone softened. "Denying yourself a future."
Netya's neck tingled with uncomfortable heat. She should have known Caspian would guess at her unspoken worries before long. He was too quick-witted not to have questioned why she was avoiding making love with him.
"What if I do not want that future?" she whispered.
"Do you even know what it is you want?"
"How can I, when I have this animal sleeping inside me, making me do things I have no will over!" She rolled away from him, burying her face in her arms. "I know I must face it," she said at last. "Adel means to make me do so by bringing me to the gathering."
"Then surely that is for the best?"
"What if I disappoint her? What if I fail?"
Caspian sat up, the closeness of his body disappearing as he gazed outside. "Is she the only one you fear to disappoint?" he said at last.
His words stung, and rightfully so. They reminded her of Khelt. How it had angered him that she spent so much time with Adel, dedicating her efforts so fully to her mentor rather than the man who professed to her his love. She had thought the alpha did not understand her at the time, but perhaps, for all of Khelt's pride, there had been some justification to the way he felt.
Caspian understood her, and he was not so prone to jealousy. Why was Adel the one who spurred her into confronting her fears, and not him? Why the woman who had been absent for the past several months, and not the man who had been there to comfort her every night?
Feeling her throat tighten up, Netya swallowed any words she might have voiced, keeping her face buried in her arms. Caspian lay down beside her, but he did not draw her back into his embrace. She slept a fitful sleep, harried by unfriendly spirits in her dreams. The great white wolf, who was so often her guide in the spirit world, chased her this time, nipping at her ankles with sharp teeth.
When she awoke the following morning, Caspian had already risen, but he had left a wooden bowl waiting for her at the cave's entrance, filled with her favourite sweet summer fruits. The meal helped to lighten her spirits a little, chasing off the clutches of the unpleasant dreams. She went to bathe in one of the pools at the base of the waterfalls, checked the few basic supplies she had prepared for the journey south, and went to meet with the others who were gathering outside the central cave.
"Do not look so afraid," Fern said, jostling her amicably. "You will be able to travel on foot until we reach the place of the gathering. Your wolf will listen when the time comes, I am sure of it."
"I only wish I were as well," Netya replied, swallowing her apprehension as Adel went from person to person, checking to make sure their belongings held everything they would need. They had been instructed to travel light, bringing only what was essential for the journey, for once they arrived at the gathering they would be provided with ample food and shelter. The den mother's own bundles were far bulkier than those of her fellow travellers, but whatever they might have contained was hidden beneath the tight leather coverings wrapped around them.
Wren waited anxiously beside Fern, her own travelling supplies resting on the ground before her. Adel had still made no further comment on her decision to bring the young girl, and when the den mother stopped in front of her she looked Wren up and down, her expression impassive.
"You still wish to accompany us?" she said at last.
Wren nodded.
"Then bind up your belongings and make ready to leave. Let us hope you do not give me reason to regret my decision."
The girl's expression broke into a grin, her nodding becoming much more enthusiastic as she bent down to tie up her bundle. Fern smiled in her direction, and Netya could not help but feel her anxiety slip for a moment too. At least she would not be alone in attending her first pack gathering.
They said their goodbyes to the others, promising to bring back news of the other packs when they returned, and set off down the valley at a leisurely pace. They would have to take to the legs of their wolves eventually, but for the first day Adel allowed them to ease gently into the rhythm of travel. It was not customary for a gathering to begin until all packs were accounted for, the den mother said, even if thei
rs was not yet counted among the expected arrivals. She had given them ample time to make the journey, and as long as they did not arrive last they had nothing to be concerned with.
They turned south at the western end of the valley, winding their way through the maze of ridges and trees surrounding their home until they came to a river and followed its course onwards for the next few days. Netya rode upon Fern or Caspian's back when they were not walking, thankful for the focus of travel to help take her mind off what was to come. She was excited to attend the gathering, but fearful of what she would have to do in order to get there. Her dormant wolf seemed to have sensed its opportunity, and it was clawing at the nape of her neck again, eager to get loose and stretch its legs.
The mountains to the south rose up before them as they emerged on to open plains, drawing closer and closer each day. Netya wondered what lands awaited them on the other side. The southern mountains had been one of the edges of her world up until now, and she had never so much as dreamed about what might lie beyond them.
On the third day following their departure, the small group realised they were no longer travelling alone.
Selo spotted them first. Small dark-brown dots in the distance behind them, sometimes alone, sometimes in pairs. They moved with the grace of wolves, and they were far too large and persistent to be wild animals.
"We will not be the only pack travelling south for the gathering," Adel muttered as she watched one of their distant pursuers from the top of a small hill. "Perhaps they are your friends from the northlands, if we are fortunate," she said to Netya.
"We could stay ahead of them if we picked up our pace," Fern said.
"That would only make it seem like we were fleeing," the den mother replied. "And those who flee tell their pursuers they have reason to give chase. Curse this river, I should have known we would not be the only ones following it."