Daughter of the Moon (The Moon People, Book Two)

by Claudia King

  Before long it seemed that further bloodshed between their clans was inevitable, and as much as Adel despised Miral's wanton aggression, she could not help but feel slightly relieved that it was directed at another pack instead of hers. If Miral set out to fight Octavia once the gathering was over, then his attention would be focused on the southwestern edge of his territory, far away from the hunting grounds close to Adel's den in the east. The incident with Netya had been concerning, but hopefully it was a hollow threat, or at the very least one that would not be followed up upon until Adel had further strengthened her position.

  The only other dispute of note arose between Adel's father and Khelt. As much as she told herself that they were the two men whose troubles should concern her least, her heart and her mind could not always be in agreement. So she had remained silent and detached when the two alphas spoke, but her ears took in every word that passed between them. She could not deny that she still cared for people in both of their packs, even if she had not seen some of them in many years.

  As soon as it became known that Khelt had moved his pack nearer to the mountains in the south, Adel's father immediately rose up in anger. The southern mountains were dangerously close to his own territory, and no permission had been asked of him before Khelt moved in. Two packs that respected one another might have come to a tentative truce in such a situation, perhaps even offering tribute or agreeing to combine hunts for their mutual benefit, but the bad blood between these two clans stretched back generations. Khelt dismissed his rival's accusations as callously as ever, insisting it was foolish to think that he would start another violent conflict between their packs after so many years of relative peace. But Adel's father, as suspicious as always, was convinced that Khelt parting ways with his daughter was a sign of disrespect, and the move upon his territory that followed immediately after was too coincidental for him to ignore.

  Many nights were spent trying to reach an accord. The other alphas offered their own advice—and threats—whenever they felt it was necessary, but it was clear that no one else wanted to risk pledging their loyalty to one side or another. It was unfortunate that Khelt did not have Caspian there to counsel him, but to his credit he held himself back from challenging Adel's father outright.

  In the end no accord could be reached, nor did either alpha agree to back down. In the past a conflict between their two packs would have been a foregone conclusion—Khelt's was stronger, and Ulric's too ravaged by attacks from the Sun People to put up the kind of resistance it had managed in years prior. Yet Khelt's power had been unsettled that summer. Despite his boasts to the contrary, and a great many challenges being won by his pack during the gathering, he had still been driven from his lands by the Sun People, and he had lost his powerful den mother along with most of her acolytes. While many would have argued his was the strongest of all clans in the past, Gheran and Miral now seemed to have supplanted him in that role.

  All of this meant that Adel's father was no longer so reluctant to oppose the younger alpha. The pair might not have been at each other's throats yet, but if Khelt did not move his people on soon it would only be a matter of time before he butted heads with Ulric again, and without the gathering's code of honour to hold their aggression in check.

  The final meeting Adel attended was a small one, taking place at midday rather than after nightfall. Only Miral, Ulric, Octavia, and Turec were present. When the ring of central fires burned high it was a sign that one or more of the alphas had called the others to gather, and Adel had seen a distant figure heaping fresh wood upon the coals shortly after she awoke. It was strange for the clan leaders to meet so early, and most of those absent had likely remained asleep or dismissed the call as unworthy of their attention. By now they had heard everything of importance that needed to be said, and most of their business with one another was done.

  But Adel was curious, and so she hurried to attend. It did not escape her notice along the way that Octavia's clan were making hasty preparations to leave, dismantling their leader's great tent into a dozen different sheets of hide and folding them away into carrying bundles. The elaborate wooden throne that they could not possibly have carried all the way from their den burned outside in the remnants of their fire. A twinge of apprehension nipped at the back of the den mother's neck. If Octavia was about to make her departure already, then the rest of the clans would soon be following in her wake. There was little time left if she wanted to get out ahead of Miral.

  And Miral, it seemed, was the cause of more than just Adel's worries that day. When the den mother arrived at the centre of the gathering and took her place across from Octavia, she could tell that the other woman had been the one responsible for calling the meeting. She wore her headdress of red feathers, but aside from that her appearance lacked its usual tight, fearsome composure. The darkness around her eyes suggested she had not slept, and it seemed she was trying her hardest to avoid acknowledging Miral's presence.

  Once it became apparent that the five of them were the only ones that would be attending, Octavia spoke.

  "A messenger from my clan arrived last night. She brought news that a band of Sun People appeared recently by way of the great water, crossing into the heart of my territory past the sight of my scouts."

  "By way of the great water?" Turec frowned. "How?"

  "Hollow logs that float and keep them dry, perhaps many of them lashed together." Octavia shook her head. "I do not know. They build many things we do not understand."

  "The tricks and traps of murderers," Ulric said with a snarl.

  "I must leave immediately," Octavia continued, "but first I must ask you—any of you—for your aid." She looked imploringly to Adel, and for a moment the den mother glimpsed a hint of desperation in the woman's eyes.

  Ulric folded his arms with a firm shake of his head. "Your lands are too far distant from mine. I will spare no warriors to protect a band of women when Khelt sniffs at my own hearth."

  "I do not ask for your help in fighting the Sun People," Octavia said, and finally her expression turned to one of anger as she acknowledged Miral. "Miral still intends to send his warriors into my territory."

  The dark-haired male nodded, smiling as he finally added his own voice to the discussion. "You are a fool to betray your weakness, Octavia. You cannot fight me and the Sun People on both sides of your territory. But if your pack submits and falls in line, you will have all the strong male warriors you need to face the Sun People. I will slaughter every last one of them, and not a drop of your own clan's blood need be spilled."

  "Every woman in my clan would gladly spill her blood before submitting to you," Octavia spat back, then looked to the others again. "I will fight Miral and the Sun People at the same time if I must, and I will defeat them both no matter how many lives I must pay with. But if any of you have ever considered me your ally, help me talk sense into this fool!"

  Ulric grunted, arms remaining in a stoic fold across his chest. Adel felt a flash of indignation at her father's refusal to act. Yes, why should he care about the lives of others when he could be squabbling over his own territory?

  "Miral," Turec ventured, though any conviction in his words was hobbled by caution. "You should be aiding Octavia against the Sun People, not helping them destroy her. There is no honour in falling upon a wounded foe like scavengers upon a carcass."

  "Would you help her, then?!" Miral bellowed suddenly, rising to his feet with a vicious glare trained on Turec. "When has your clan last stood in battle against mine, Alpha Turec? Do not speak to me of honour when you lack the strength to defend your own!"

  Turec rose to his feet to meet Miral, his face flushed with colour. Even Adel knew, with a sickening drop of her stomach, that the man would have been wiser to keep his mouth shut. His sense of honour was strong, but he lacked the strength of numbers to contest Miral. They stared each other down, the silent wills of the two alphas battling behind their eyes, but Miral's furious brute strength finally won out.

&nbs
p; Turec looked away with a shake of his head, face still burning with indignation, and sat back down. "What concern is it of mine. Your fights are your own."

  That left only Adel. Octavia's hopeful gaze sought her out one more time, but all the den mother could offer in response was a minute shake of her head. It would mean death for her clan to challenge Miral so openly. The fear of her magic was the only thing protecting them, but as powerful as she was, her talents had little use in battle. Octavia's only choice was to fight her enemies alone. A flash of sober understanding passed between the two women. They both knew there was nothing they could do. There was no malice in Adel's decision, only the necessity of survival.

  And so it was without surprise or anger that Adel listened to the words Octavia spoke next. She spoke them as numbly as if they were ice on her tongue, words that would kill. The only words she could speak to protect her own pack.

  "In the valleys near your eastern hunting grounds." She looked to Miral. "That is where Adel makes her den. Somewhere with fresh springs and waterfalls, and land for cultivating plants. That is all she told me. Turn your warriors on her if you must. She will put up far less of a fight than I."

  Miral blinked slowly, tilting his head in Adel's direction. A brittle silence fell over the alphas. Even Ulric's stubborn expression cracked as he shot a glance in his daughter's direction.

  "So close to my own lands," Miral mused. "And to think they call you wise, Sorceress." Without another word the alpha turned and walked away, the coiled braid of his hair tapping against his lower back as Adel and Octavia stared after him with frantic eyes. If Miral's plans had changed in light of Octavia's betrayal, there was no way they could know. Not until the alpha's warriors arrived to bring their wrath upon whichever victim he had chosen.

  —22—

  A Daughter's Vengeance

  There was no time left to linger. She had to gather her clan and leave before Miral made up his mind. He knew where to look, but it would still take time for his scouts to find the valley Octavia had described. Time enough, perhaps, to gather their supplies and flee.

  Adel swallowed the desperate anger welling up inside her, trying not to think about anything beyond the necessities of the moment. To do so would not be of any help her followers right now. But the thoughts still clutched at her like wicked phantoms, threatening to steal away her strength of will. Had it all been for nothing? Was she destined to keep on running, throwing herself on the mercy of whichever alpha's territory she strayed closest to? Perhaps she had been a fool to think she could win the respect of her kin without the strength of warriors. It was simply not the way of the world. If Miral attacked, conjured flames would not be enough to frighten his clan into submission a second time.

  The den mother tried to keep her step slow and steady as she departed from the meeting area, not wishing to betray the urgency that snapped at her heels like a tide of slavering hounds. Her people had been making preparations to leave quietly. They would be ready to depart within moments if she gave the command. The single tent would remain atop the hillock after they were gone, and with a little luck it would be some time before anyone ventured close enough to realise it was empty. That only left the newcomers who had agreed to join them.

  Adel cursed under her breath, realising that gathering them all in secret would be a nigh-impossible task. The absence of the rowdy group of young men would be noticed immediately, and it would take time to gather the handful of young women she had agreed to accept under her tutelage when she made the offer to the other alphas. Perhaps it would be better to simply leave them. What kind of danger would she be leading them into, anyway? They would be safer with their own packs.

  She was so caught up in her concerns that she did not notice the hurried footsteps following her until her father caught her by the arm, jerking her to a halt between two long storage tents that had been emptied of their food supplies many days ago.

  "Daughter," he growled, the hard silver of his beard bristling as they came eye to eye for the first time in more than ten years. She noticed she no longer had to tilt her head upward to meet his gaze.

  "Do not call me that," she shot back, yanking herself free of his grip as if it had physically burned her. "Leave me be, there is nothing you can say that I wish to hear."

  "I do not need a seer's sight to know that you are tempting fate," he said, holding his ground with a stubbornness that matched his daughter's. "As much as you continue to disrespect me, you are still my daughter. I have no wish to see you dead at Miral's hand, and I know you would sooner die than become his thrall."

  "Then fight him yourself, do as you wish, it does not concern me!"

  "Adel," he growled, his thick eyebrows lowering in a look she remembered all too vividly from her past. How it had cowed her back then, leaving her angry and resentful and bitterly helpless. It had made her weak. "Khelt no longer binds you to his clan," he continued. "You have no reason to remain apart from your people. With you and your followers we could be strong again. Your mother will not lead the seerhood forever, and they will need a strong new leader to guide them—"

  A bark of hysterical laughter left Adel's throat, all of her anger and despair setting a cold, wicked fire in her eyes. "You think I would ever come back to you?! You threw me away, cast me aside like I was a gift to bargain with!" A fury like nothing she had ever known took hold of the den mother, twisting through her veins like ice as she lunged at her father, digging her fingernails into his neck as she slammed him up against one of the heavy wooden stakes supporting the tent. An audible splintering of wood followed the weight of the impact, and Ulric's eyes bulged in shock and indignation. He brought a heavy hand down to strike his daughter, but she caught him by the wrist before his weathered palm could reach her cheek. His stubbornness was not the only thing she had inherited, and while her father's powerful body was beginning to wither with age, she was still young and strong. Far stronger than she had been the last time he struck her.

  "Where is the alpha's strength now?" she hissed, clawing at his neck until she drew blood. "Where is Karel to beat me in your stead?" It was only then that Adel realised there were tears in her eyes. "How could you think," she all but sobbed, "that I would ever, ever, come back to you?!"

  "I did all I had to for your good, and for the good of my pack!" her father choked out, his handsome features made ugly by rage. "And you spat in my face at every turn!"

  "You took everything from me! My pack, my sister," her voice trailed off until it was barely audible. "You took him."

  "You cannot blame me for your sister," he retorted, knuckles curled around her wrist as he tried to pry her away from his throat.

  "Would she have lived if not for you?!"

  Ulric said nothing, gasping for breath as he struggled within his daughter's grasp.

  "I hate you," Adel hissed. "For the mercy of every dark spirit whose name I know, I would see you dead. I have seen the demons of the world beyond ours, and you belong there in the darkness with them! Every good thing I have ever felt, none of it is pure— all because of you!" She stared at him, letting the pain and rage take her, tightening her fingers around his neck, dragging him into the dark void that had lingered in her heart for ten long years. He had torn something precious from her, leaving a frayed hole in its place that stifled the love she longed to feel for those closest to her. For Netya.

  She could have killed him. She did not care for anything beyond her hatred in that blind moment of anger. The dam holding back a tide within her had broken loose, and the flood that followed was drowning out everything but her desire for revenge. She wanted to hurt him. She wanted to kill him.

  But one small thought held her back. Netya. The girl that had awoken something within that terrible hole in her heart. A tiny glimmer. What kind of a woman did Adel want her apprentice to learn from? Not a murderer. Let death be the craft of alphas and warriors, but not the women of Adel's clan.

  She threw her father to the ground with a choked noise
of anger. He lay there in the dirt, gasping for breath as he clutched his bleeding neck, old and humiliated. Cast down by a woman. If any of the other alphas had witnessed his disgrace, he would never again have sat within the circle as their equal.

  Adel raised a trembling finger at him, her father's dark blood dripping from her nails. She was shaking, her muscles numb.

  "I am a greater leader than you. My clan will stand above all others, and we shall do so without the kind of power I spared you from today. When the dark spirits come for you, you will die knowing your daughter is a queen among alphas. I swear it."

  Ulric's reddened face looked up at her from the ground, his wheezing breaths cutting off any response he might have uttered. He had not changed. He was still every bit the man Adel hated, and she knew she would carry that hate with her until her dying day. But in his expression she also glimpsed fear. The kind of fear he had once made her feel. A bitter smile clutched at Adel's lips. No one could inflict anything worse upon her than what this man had already managed. Not Miral, not anyone.

  She pressed the sleeve of her gown to her face, wiping away the tears that threatened to make a mess of the charcoal painting her eyes. Turning her back on her father, she left him there in the space between the tents. Her step was steady and unhurried despite the trembling of her body. She did not know whether anyone else had witnessed what took place, nor did she care.

  Fern and Netya were sitting at the foot of the hillock when she returned, their bundles of belongings tucked alongside them ready for travel. A look passed between the girls as she approached. They could tell something was amiss with their den mother.