by Claudia King
The prospect of using his knowledge of the spear to win fights against it persuaded Kin to revert from the shape of his wolf and pick up his pole again, reapplying himself to the task he had initially shunned.
"You are good with them," Netya said quietly to her man. "You have a way of explaining things that makes them listen. Even Adel cannot manage that."
Caspian shrugged. "I am used to persuading stubborn men to use their heads, remember? It only takes words."
"But words you have a way with. Perhaps this is to be your calling in our new pack? You advised Khelt, and now you advise everyone else."
"Now that I have found people who will listen. But I do not know, it seems a task anyone with experience could perform."
"It takes a special talent to make people listen. Not because they are afraid, but because they want to."
He smiled and ruffled her hair. "My wise seer. Will you stay and practise with us a while longer? It seems I am not the only one with a talent for convincing others to listen."
Netya glanced to her abandoned baskets, then looked back and nodded. "Perhaps I can learn a little something more too."
They kept on training all afternoon, first becoming accustomed to the correct stance and movements, before breaking into pairs to practise the same defensive game Netya and Caspian had demonstrated with Kin, one partner attacking in the shape of their wolf while the other tried to keep them at a distance. It was a difficult lesson to learn for most of them, and the wisdom of giving them blunt poles to train with soon became apparent as aggressive temperaments got the better of Kin and one of his brothers, leaving another pair of wolves with bruised and bleeding muzzles.
Caspian let them fight it out as the scene escalated into a challenge, and by the time dusk began to fall Netya ended up tending a series of claw-shaped gashes on Kin's back. Meanwhile, Caspian calmly gave the victor of the fight the task of gathering straight branches and stone that could be knapped into proper spearheads, along with bark for glue, sinew for twine, and a gift of a particularly tasty and elusive bird for Briar, so that she might be persuaded to craft spears for them all the next day. Crestfallen, Kin's opponent seemed about to protest, but Caspian folded his arms and inclined his head slightly, and the words faltered on the young man's lips. The task assigned to him would take all night, perhaps longer if he was unfortunate with the bird. But that was the price of proving himself victorious in the challenge, was it not? Kin could not very well be sent out to help him while he was recovering from his wounds.
It was another lesson, and a subtler one than most. After the young man spent all night searching up and down the valley, imagining himself back at the camp with the others, he might think twice the next time he jumped headlong into a challenge at the slightest opportunity to assert himself.
Though much of the pack's hunting was done at night, it was still the time for what little relaxation the group could manage in between their routine tasks. Many of the females were happy to welcome the strong and eager young men into their furs before they went to sleep, and Kin and his brothers were all too happy to satisfy the clan of seers who had been starved of male company for so long.
So it was with a forlorn glance back at the glowing fires on the valleyside that the victor of the duel loped off into the darkness, leaving the others to their nightly pleasures. The rest of the men stayed a while longer in the growing dusk, tussling and talking of the spear as Netya finished tending Kin's wounds. A light drizzle began to fall, promising an even more miserable night for the poor victor whose only companionship would be the clan's eerie totems dangling from the trees.
Kin slunk back to the cave he and his companions shared on the low slopes to nurse his injuries, while the rest of them headed up to the communal fire. Those gathered nearby were already preparing the evening meal, tending smaller cooking fires just beneath the overhang of the large central cave in anticipation of the rain to come.
"The wet season is coming." Fern grimaced as she looked up at the darkening sky. "If this gets any worse we may not be coming back with any spoils from tonight's hunt."
"You had better hope you do," Ura said, glancing up from the pot she was stirring to give Fern a severe look. "We did not expect this many mouths to feed over the winter. Our stored food will barely be enough for half of us if things continue this way. We need more hunters, or more successful hunts. I have no desire to spend another winter cold and starving."
"It is not a matter of more hunters or better hunts," Fern protested. "Prey is hard to catch this close to the valley. Perhaps if we had bows like the Sun People we could bring down more birds, but anything that runs on the ground is scarce. If we could only venture farther west..."
"Into Miral's hunting grounds, you mean," Caspian said.
"I know it is foolish, but you heard what Ura said. We will have a hard winter ahead of us if we cannot start bringing in more food."
"We could forage more, but..." Netya sighed. "Not enough to give us what we need. I should have gone to pick mushrooms today like I planned."
"Better you didn't," Ura said. "It would have been a wasted journey. I picked the last of them with Meadow yesterday."
"The rains have not started in earnest yet," Fern said. "We still have time, if we can only get the den mother's permission to venture where we know there is good hunting to be had."
"Going back into Miral's territory does not seem wise," Netya cautioned.
"If he had tracked us back here we would have found some trace of him by now. And if he means to come, he will come anyway. Besides, what if he has turned his attention to Octavia's pack instead? All of his people will be far away from here, on the opposite side of his territory."
Netya shared a look with Caspian.
"If we were quick and cautious we could be there and gone without Miral ever knowing," Fern continued. "We were careless last time because we knew no better, and if his clan are as poor at tracking as they seem to be then it should be little trouble to outsmart them. We will have plenty of time to find safer hunting grounds once the winter has passed."
Caspian raised a hand to reassure her. "Sometimes desperate needs call for dangerous actions, but we are not desperate yet. Like you said, there is still time before the rains become too heavy for us to hunt. We can speak with Adel and ask for more hunters and foragers. The seers must have spent enough time weaving magic into their charms to ward off a dozen rival clans by now."
Fern let out a long breath. "Very well. But I still think it will do little good."
Eyan appeared behind her with a bowl of stewed meat in hand. "If you need me I will hunt with you tonight, Fern."
The huntress glanced up at the towering man, a little taken aback by his sudden, amply noticeable appearance. "Have you not been training all day?"
"I will eat, then I will come." He lifted his bowl and slurped a large mouthful of the broth, then wandered back to join his brothers.
"You should let that one pull his weight," Ura muttered. "He counts as two mouths to feed."
"But he could bring down an aurochs all by himself." Caspian smiled. "Not many hunters can say the same."
Ura looked over at Netya. "Netya, your people lived with animals, did they not? Raised them to be tame so there was no need to hunt abroad?"
"There was always need to hunt," she replied. "And taming animals takes a long time. They must be raised from when they are young, and kept in a place they can be protected without wandering far. In my village we built a stone wall around the farmlands and kept the beasts in shelters of wood and hide."
Ura harrumphed. "Like the birds we used to keep back with Khelt, then. Spirits help us, I sometimes wish we had more of the Sun People's cunning to ease us through these times."
"I thought we would be able to put these worries behind us once we found a place to settle."
Ura shook her head. "Making a den that endures is never so simple. We thought the cave beneath the pool would suit our needs, but the flood soon taught
us otherwise. Perhaps we will find the hunting here too poor to feed us all year round. Maybe the seeds we have planted will never grow. One day the spirits might shake the earth and bring these caves down atop us."
"The spirits would never do that," Netya said.
"Oh yes they would. The world becomes their weapon when they are greatly angered. I have heard tales of them splitting the ground apart and turning mountains into great pillars of fire."
"I am no seer, but I doubt we need worry about that," Caspian said. "Still, Ura is right in saying we should stay vigilant. There is little we can take for granted here."
"Let's talk to the den mother tomorrow, Fern," Netya said. "She can decide what to do about our hunting."
Fern rubbed her shoulder, casting a wistful glance over at where a giggling Selo was trying her best to pretend she had no interest in the man nuzzling into the side of her neck. "I hate hunting in the rain."
"Then hurry, before it gets any worse!" Ura flicked her cooking stick at Fern's feet, and the huntress gave Netya a weary smile before heading off to gather her hunting companions. She tapped Eyan on the shoulder as she passed by, and the man nearly dropped the remains of his stew all over himself in his haste to clamber to his feet, much to the amusement of his brothers.
Netya wished her friend had not been so eager to venture into Miral's territory again, but if the hunting was really as bad as it seemed, would they be left with any other choice? She propped her spear up next to her and sat down with Caspian, thumbing the painted wood shaft of her weapon thoughtfully as she sipped from a bowl of stew. Something told her it would not be long before she found herself using the spear for more than just practise.
—26—
The Girl in the Dream
Two nights later the blue vision came to Netya once again, so real she could feel the texture of the grass between her toes and smell the scent of old tree bark in the air. The moon hung lower in the sky than ever, and when Netya focused on it she could see that it was not the blotched, shining circle that lived in the sky of her world, but a being of white and blue light perched upon the stars. A wolf curled into a ball, muzzle resting upon her forepaws and tail drifting in the air at her side, watching Netya approach with the patience of a mother.
The clearing swept to life around her, rock beneath her feet and the chant of an uncountable number of voices in her ears. The girl was there before her, dressed in white fur the same colour as the moon, dark hair streaming out in tassels behind her. Netya strained to see her face, fighting back as the dream started to fade, trying to focus on the grip of her feet against the hard rock. The girl turned, and once again she found herself staring into her own face.
The growl of Netya's spirit guide sounded in her ears. The white wolf was tugging her away now too, jaws pulling at her bare ankle. A great tension strained within her body as she fought to keep hold of the image, focusing on the shining face of the girl. It was her, but then it was not. Her eyes were different. Familiar, but different. Something about her made Netya think that recognition was just a hair's breadth away, dancing at her fingertips if only she could hold on to the dream a moment longer.
But once again the blue world drifted apart and the chant in her ears became the hum of someone singing a wordless tune outside her small cave. The moon spirit perched in the sky became a ray of morning sunlight shining in upon her face, and the smell of old bark gave way to the musky scent of her sleeping furs.
With the image of the dream still fresh in her mind she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and hurried out to try and find Adel. She did not know whether anything she had seen would help the den mother understand her vision better, but she was compelled to seek her counsel while the memory was still so clear.
Most of the pack were still asleep or out hunting, and when Netya arrived at Adel's cave she found it empty. It was strange for the den mother to be absent, for she usually treasured the time spent alone in her cave with the solitude of her own thoughts. Then again, Netya reflected, she rarely sought out her mentor so early in the day, and Adel had a habit of rising before anyone else.
Making her way back down the valleyside, she caught sight of a figure bathing alone beneath the waterfalls off to her right. As she drew a little closer it was hard to mistake the light skin and long, dark hair of her mentor. So used was she to seeing Adel clad from head to foot in her majestic seer's attire that the sight of the woman washing her hair beneath the falling streams of water took her a little aback. Her long body was toned with bands of youthful muscle, her chest small and pert with breasts that had never known motherhood. A long, ugly scar ran its way down her shoulder toward her hip, and Netya winced when she realised it was the wound Khelt had inflicted upon her when the two of them fought. The mottled mark of a burn ran up Adel's arm from the heel of her hand, and her right shoulder appeared subtly misshapen, as though it had been broken at some point in the distant past.
But despite the marks Adel's life had left upon her body, she still appeared young without the charcoal painting her eyes and the fox pelt headdress crowning her scalp. It was so strange to see her in such a way, removed of the imposing face she presented to the world. Perhaps that was why she rose early to bathe before the others.
When the den mother noticed her apprentice picking her way down the slope toward her she glanced over with a placid look. Blinking a few times, she ducked her head beneath the water and swept her slick hair back, then waded to the edge of the pool where her gown waited.
"Had I known you would be awake so soon I would have started preparing our work earlier," she said.
"My vision woke me today," Netya replied hurriedly. "It came to me again with the morning sun."
"Is that so?" Adel turned her back for a moment as she wrung some of the water from her hair, before throwing the loose gown over her body. "Come back to the cave and tell me again what you saw. Was it different this time?" She pressed a hand lightly against Netya's back to guide her up the slope.
"I see the moon spirit more clearly now, but the vision is the same. It draws me to the girl standing before the other clans."
"And did you recognise her this time?"
Netya furrowed her brow, trying to conjure up the face of the woman in her mind's eye. "She is me. I am sure of it. But then... All of a sudden she is not. I cannot describe it, but somehow I know she is different. As though her thoughts belong to someone else." She looked up at Adel. "Have you ever known anyone else who looks like me?"
"Not yet."
"Not yet? Then you think I am seeing a vision of things to come?"
The den mother remained silent as they climbed the valleyside, gazing distantly at the rocks beneath their feet. She remained lost in thought until they reached the entrance to her cave, whereupon she turned Netya to face her and put her hands upon her shoulders.
"You recall the day I spoke of having you take my place should I die before my time?"
Netya's eyes creased at the memory, but she nodded.
"In your vision you see yourself stood before all the clans," Adel continued. "An alpha among alphas. Or perhaps a den mother to every one of our people."
"That cannot be. Even if I did take your place... I would never have the strength to stand before the other packs like that."
"The vision may not be a true sight of the future. They rarely are. But the spirits are telling you of a young woman with a great destiny before her."
Netya's stomach twisted. "Do you think the girl in the dream is who I will one day become?"
Adel took a deep breath, pausing to consider for a moment longer before speaking. "It is true that you might be the one to take my place should I die young. But if I do not, and we live out our lives as we hope to, then we shall both of us be old women on the day I finally name a successor. Your time to fulfil that duty would have long passed. Far more likely it would fall to your daughter." She squeezed Netya's shoulders slightly. "A face like your own, but with the thoughts of another? A girl with your wi
ts and Caspian's wisdom, raised to follow in our footsteps. If fate holds a great destiny for any of us, I could see it belonging to such a girl."
The twisting sensation in Netya's stomach loosened, giving way to something altogether stranger. A sensation she had never felt before. "You think I am to bear a daughter?"
"I need no visions to tell me that. You have been sickly these recent weeks, squirming within your own clothing."
"It is the scent of these new herbs, it soaks into the air everywhere I breathe."
"And yet no one else has suffered in the same way. When was the last time you bled?"
Netya hesitated, a tingle running down her spine. "Before the gathering."
"A long time for a woman so young. You made love with Caspian on the night of the summer fires, did you not?"
Netya bobbed her head. "Many times."
"Did you take any remedies to keep his seed from taking root in you?"
"No, not that night. Do you really think I am with his child?"
"You show the signs of it. Come inside the cave and I will examine you. It is about time you learned these things, regardless."
"How long have you suspected?" Netya said as Adel led her inside and instructed her to undress.
"I considered not speaking of it to you," the den mother replied. "But your vision made me wonder. The way you described the girl you saw—it is not unheard of for mothers to see glimpses of their unborn children in this way. You may not have known, but your body did, as did the spirits. Sit here, lie back."
Netya did as she was told, allowing the den mother to examine her as she explained the signs she was looking for and how to identify them. Even though Netya knew she would need to learn the same skills as a seer, she found it difficult to focus on remembering what her mentor said that morning. She had considered what it might be like to have a child before, but for a long time now it had been a concern that seemed too far distant to worry about. How could she turn her thoughts to motherhood when the very survival of their pack was at stake?