by Claudia King
Every so often they came across chewed plants and the faint scent of blood from a critter that had fallen victim to the hunters. Their trail meandered again, doubled back on itself, and finally began to edge toward the side of the valley, headed back west in the direction they had come. Fern seemed reassured that the men had finally seen sense and given up, but Netya was still worried. The path they had taken was clearly not the most straightforward, even to her untrained eyes. They were sticking to the undergrowth, prowling the edge of steep overhangs, doing their very best, it seemed, to avoid the easy grassland just to the south. And all the while they kept coming across spots where the group had stopped and waited. Were they playing another one of their competitive games? Netya wanted to believe so, but an uneasy drag in the base of her stomach told her something else was going on that she had overlooked.
Surely they must be close to catching up by now? With the number of times Kin and his companions had stopped they should have found them hours ago. But not a rustle of movement or a yip of enthusiasm reached her ears through the still undergrowth. The scents were fresh, undisturbed by rain. The men had been here mere moments earlier, and yet all Netya could hear was the soft rustle of Fern's paws brushing through the leaves a short distance away.
Feeling that she must be missing something, and spurred on by the uneasy weight in her stomach that was growing heavier by the moment, she turned away from the path she had been following and moved to the edge of the thicket, where the higher ground looked out over the rocky creek they had crossed earlier.
A ray of sunlight peeking over the hills stung her eyes, blinding her for a moment as she gazed across the glittering stretch of water winding its way through the trees below them. Without warning, a heavy shape struck her from the side, driving her to the ground with a weight far greater than her own. In a panic, she tried to open her muzzle to yelp, but a pair of arms were wrapped around her neck, strong hands clamping her jaws shut as she hit the earth with a painful thud. For an instant she struggled, trying to latch her claws into the man holding her, before recognising his scent. She had been following it for so long that it sprang to the forefront of her mind even faster than the voice hissing in her ears, and her shock gave way to confusion.
"Don't make a sound!" Kin whispered, his voice weary, but strung with urgency. "He's right there, down in the shallows. If he'd turned his head he would have seen you."
The stag? Netya thought, still reeling from Kin's sudden appearance. The sun had been in her eyes, but she was sure she would have noticed the creature's distinctive antlers down by the water if it had been so close.
Once she had relaxed a little Kin released her, though he still kept a palm on her back to make sure she remained flat against the ground. Making an uncomfortable reversion from the shape of her wolf, Netya caught her breath and glared over at the young man with a scowl that she hoped conveyed all the worry he had put her through over the past day and night.
"What were you thinking? Leaving us like that to charge into Miral's land, and with Pera following you!" she hissed. "For one animal?!"
"Be quiet!" Kin retorted, looking as perplexed as she felt. "We lost the stag yesterday. That fool Eyan said it was too dangerous and took the boy off with him, startled the thing just as we were about to get it. But he came back in the end, like he always does." The male gave a snort that told Netya exactly how little he thought of Eyan's attempt at doing the right thing.
"Then why are you still out here?" she whispered back. "It's been a day!"
Eyan shook his head quickly, and an eager grin touched the corner of his mouth. "We lost the stag, but now we're hunting something much better." He lifted his palm from Netya's back and edged forward, peering over the top of the small overhang that hid them from the edge of the river. "He's moving again. Come, but keep low."
Wondering what could possibly have been responsible for Kin's reckless hunt, she crawled through the damp grass until the creek hove into view once more, squinting and shielding her eyes from the sun.
"Down there," Kin whispered. "In the water, right below that cracked tree."
Expecting to see a mountain cat or a bear or some other great hunter's prize, Netya sought out the tree in question and moved her eyes down to where the flowing water was kicking up white trails of foam around the legs of the creature Kin had described. What she saw was a wolf, dark-furred and lean, filling the broad body that was characteristic of one of the Moon People.
"Who is that?" she whispered.
"One of Miral's. It has to be," Kin replied with an eagerness that could not have been more opposed to Netya's own thoughts on the situation.
"And you are hunting him?" she all but growled, incredulous. "By the spirits, have you lost what little sense you have in that stupid head?! It is a miracle he has not stumbled across the trail you left already!"
Kin glared back at her. "We are good hunters. We kept away from his path all day and night. He will not know we are here until it is too late." He nodded over in the scout's direction, making as if to change to the shape of his wolf. "He has not stopped to rest since we started tracking him. Soon he will tire, then we will make our attack."
"I forbid it!" Netya hissed, grabbing him by the arm before he could change shape. "You will not kill another for sport, not even one of Miral's!"
"Sport?" Kin was beginning to look equally furious. "He is our enemy! He may not have found our trail yet, but he will if we allow him to walk free! Then he will take word of us back to his alpha, and everything the den mother feared will come to pass."
"None of this would have happened had you listened to Fern and stayed on our side of the river!" It was becoming difficult to keep her voice down.
"Is this not what you brought us into your pack for? To fight your enemies, to hunt down those who would do you harm? I will challenge that wolf myself, fight him man to man, with honour! His death will show the others that we need not fear Miral and his clan."
"This is foolishness! Miral's clan is stronger than ours a dozen times over."
"It will be one less strong by the end of the day," Kin grunted. "Whether you approve or not, seer, we cannot let him live. He would follow our trail straight back to the valley."
Before Netya could think of anything else she might say to stop him he had taken the shape of his wolf and was stalking away through the trees, shadowing the other wolf as he waded up the creek, mercifully unaware of the death that followed him.
Netya's blood ran cold as she tried desperately to think of any other way out of their predicament. But she found none. Even if she could stop Kin from killing the other wolf, it was as he had said: she would be all but offering up a trail back to their den for Miral's scout to follow. And then all of her troubled dreams would become something far, far worse.
—29—
Blood for Blood
Torn between the urge to stay quiet and to alert the lone wolf with a bark, Netya crept after Kin on trembling paws. She heard a faint stirring in the undergrowth and caught sight of two of the others moving through the trees a short distance away, with Fern bringing up the rear. She shared an anxious look with Netya that confirmed she had heard what was going on too, and the pair of them fell back until they were walking alongside one another.
The huntress seemed eager for her friend to shift shape and speak, to recount some plan that might extricate them from their tenuous situation, but try as she might Netya could conjure nothing to mind. They could not take the wolf captive unless they bound him and dragged him all the way back to the valley. And then what would they do with him? Sooner or later they would find themselves in the same situation again, forced to choose between killing their enemy and sending him back to Miral with news of their den. Perhaps if they simply let him go he would overlook their trail. Could fortune really be that kind?
Her heart told her that it was wrong to kill a person out of fear, even an enemy. Part of her almost hoped that he would catch wind of them and attack, forcing
their hand. At least then she could tell herself there had been no other choice. But there was a choice, and she could still make it if she wanted. She had put herself between Khelt and Adel when it seemed like the only outcome was for one of them to kill the other, and she had thrown herself into danger to try and stop the conflict between Orec's hunting party and the Sun People. Was she willing to do the same for this stranger, now that she, too, had good reason to want him dead?
It was not long before Kin froze in place, hunkering down to watch as the lone wolf snatched a shining fish out of the water, carrying the flapping creature in his jaws to a nearby rock where he batted it still with a heavy blow from his paw. The scout drew himself up on his forelegs, ears pricked as he swivelled his head to look up and down the river. Then, seemingly satisfied that nothing was about to disturb him, he stretched out and began tucking into the fish.
Kin rose up again, and the instinctive ripple that ran through the others indicated that now was the time. They were upwind of the wolf, his back turned, muzzle buried in the fish he was eating. The warm rock he had sprawled out on seemed a perfect place to fall asleep once he was done.
Still Netya hung back, blinking the tiredness from her eyes, struggling desperately to find an answer that refused to come. Pera crept forward with an eager glint in his eye, but Fern nipped his ear between her teeth and tugged him back, freezing the undersized wolf with a reproachful glare.
They had no way of getting much closer without alerting their quarry by splashing through the water. It was a smart place for the scout to rest, no doubt one he had grown accustomed to using over time, but Kin was clearly growing impatient. This seemed his best chance, and he was not about to sit and wait again while the wolf napped idly nearby. Only the faintest rustle of grass followed him as he darted out from the trees, hopping from rock to rock on silent paws as he closed as much distance as he could without stepping into the water that swirled around him. The other three males followed, shadowing their leader's movements with the ease of a pack that had spent many years hunting together. The group were at least skilled at what they did, Netya realised, if reckless and stupid in their reasons for doing it. But there was no time for her to sit back and think any longer. If she was to act, she had to do it now.
Just as it had happened before when she found herself faced with a choice of life and death, Netya's body sprang forward, driven by a compulsion of fear and fury, and the white, blazing light within her that could not remain idle when something so terrible was about to happen. She ran after the others, making no effort to take the same silent path along the rocks. She charged into the water, throwing up churning spume in all directions as she made straight for the lone wolf.
The sound alerted him immediately, his half-eaten fish forgotten in an instant as his ears pricked back up and his head snapped around to stare straight in the direction of the five hunters streaking toward him. He was on his feet in an instant, but Kin and the others had already closed most of the distance between them. In using the scout's momentary distraction to sneak up on him, they had taken away any chance he might have had to escape. As she drew closer Netya saw that he looked older, his fur patchy in places. Large and strong still, but edging past his prime, while Kin and his brothers were still at their physical peak.
Despite his dire predicament, the scout did not let surprise or fear squander the few moments of warning he had been given. Kicking up his own spray of water, he leaped from the rock and made for the far side of the creek. The sun silhouetted the spur Netya and Fern had slept beneath in the distance downstream, and it was toward this landmark that the wolf headed.
Either Kin and the others did not care that Netya had given them away, or they were too focused on their quarry to be distracted by anger. They dropped immediately into the water and picked up their pace, closing the distance worryingly fast. Netya found herself falling behind again, but fear lent strength to her muscles as she pictured the men falling upon the hapless wolf and tearing him apart before she could get there. Despite Kin's assertion that he would challenge the other male to honourable combat, she had been given precious few reasons to trust him lately.
Tapping into the last reserves of her energy, she forced her legs to move through the dragging water, just barely managing to keep pace behind the others as they closed in on the scout. More splashes sounded behind her as Fern and Pera brought up the rear, but they were not driven by Netya's furious determination, and within a few moments they were lagging behind.
When it happened, it happened quickly. Once the instinctive pull of the hunt took hold everything seemed to happen within the blink of an eye, a hundred details registering faster than it was possible to think about them. Kin caught the lone wolf just as he reached the shore on the far side of the creek, lunging forward and yanking his hind leg back in his teeth. The sudden jerk in momentum sent the scout stumbling and tripping forward, bringing him to the ground in a crash of twigs as he bowled into the undergrowth with his attacker on top of him. Both wolves had lost their footing, but Kin had been ready for it. His sizeable weight came down on the scout's back, pinning his flailing paws awkwardly as the pair rolled over, growling and snarling in a flurry of leaves and fur.
So focused had she been on the chase that Netya did not realise what else was happening until it was almost too late. The wild cry of the animal was the first thing she heard, a sound so aggressive she thought it must have come from the two struggling wolves, though it sounded like no wolf she had ever heard. Splintering branches snapped and bushes tore as the stag charged out of the trees, either startled by the sudden commotion or seeking revenge on his hunters, driven to charge by the aggression of his rut. Already close to the ground and tangled in the bushes, Kin and Miral's scout avoided the beast's pounding hooves and lowered antlers just barely, scrabbling out of the way seemingly more by luck than intention. The others had only an instant to react, but their bodies knew how to respond even if their minds did not. Netya threw herself out of the way of the charging animal, thudding against Eyan's heavy flank as the stag's antlers skimmed by the spot she had been standing a split moment before.
Whipping her head around, she prepared to dodge again as the stag rounded to charge a second time. But the beast's first lunge proved to be all he needed. The older wolves had the strength and speed to slip out of the way, but Pera, still hesitant and clumsy in his wolf's body, seemed to panic, pawing first one way and then another. It was only a moment's hesitation, but it was enough for the stag to close the distance between them. A heavy, bulling thrust of antlers gored the boy, catching him below the chest with enough force to lift him off the ground and send him sprawling into the water. Netya's heart leaped into her mouth. She had just enough time to pray that the splitting crack she had heard came from the stag's left antler breaking off, and not from the damage it had inflicted on Pera's body. She saw blood and heard a faint whimper of pain. Now her focus was split between three things: the fight between Kin and the other wolf, the stag, and Pera.
Eyan and the two other men lunged at the animal, snarling and roaring as it rattled its head from side to side, reeling from the loss of the antler. It began to round on them again, but at the sight of three sets of slavering jaws bearing down on it the stag's survival instincts finally overcame its momentary spurt of aggression. Turning away from the hunters, it streaked away across the creek, muffled hoofbeats clattering against the pebbles beneath the surface.
Fern was kneeling over Pera, reverting from the shape of her wolf as the water turned crimson around them, but Netya could still hear the struggle going on behind her. Driven by the charged instinct that had taken control of her body, she turned and darted toward Kin and his opponent, realising dimly that she had a greater chance of saving this life than the one that was now bleeding away into the creek behind her.
She reverted from the shape of her wolf, snatching up a smooth rock from the shore and bringing it down hard on Kin's back as his snapping jaws struggled to find the
throat of the wolf pinned beneath him. The blow seemed like it had done nothing as she felt the rock connect with a wall of solid, sinewy muscle, but Kin flinched and lost his focus, giving the other wolf time to squirm half way out from beneath him.
"Let him go!" Netya yelled, striking out with the rock again. "You will not kill him!"
Kin whirled around as the second blow struck, lashing out in anger with claws that tore into Netya's clothing and flesh, gashing open her right arm in a blaze of searing pain. She let go of the rock, stumbling as the hot throb of fresh blood spilled down her elbow, the shock breaking her focus and leaving her momentarily dazed.
For an instant she wondered whether Kin was about to turn on her, attack again in his moment of blind anger, just as Khelt had done when his wolf's aggression overwhelmed his mind. She bared her teeth at him as he turned and met her eyes, jaw clenched through the pain even as her legs shook and threatened to bring her to her knees.
For all of his impulsiveness, though, Kin was no monster. His eyes flicked to the thick blood running through the girl's fingers, and then to the sight of Fern bent over Pera behind her. In his moment of distraction the fallen wolf had extricated himself from the undergrowth and was climbing back to his feet, but the other hunters fell on him before he could escape again. Eyan cuffed him across the muzzle with a blow so strong it made him crumple to the ground, and as he lay there stunned the other two males piled atop him, one pinning his hind legs while the other seized his scruff in his jaws and forced the scout's muzzle down into the earth.