by Claudia King
Forcing herself to her feet, she braced her good arm against the tree and blinked her eyes until the wave of lightheadedness had passed. She no longer felt quite so queasy, and the food and sleep had helped replenish everything the previous day had taken out of her. Eyan moved wordlessly to help her, but she gestured for him to go back to his cooking with a weak smile. He nodded and sat back down, though not before checking that Fern was still sleeping soundly.
Netya was thankful to have him nearby. Even though he had gotten caught up in Kin's reckless hunt, he had still summoned the courage to stand up to the other male when it truly mattered. He seemed the kind of man that most alphas would be glad to have at their back.
A long coil of plaited grass sat beside Fern, the ends still held loosely in her hands where she had fallen asleep weaving. Feeling how her wounded arm tugged uncomfortably under its own weight, Netya recalled a piece of advice she had been given during one of Adel's earlier teachings. Carefully taking the cord from Fern, she gnawed a length off and tied the grass plait around her neck in a loose loop, using it to support her arm just below the elbow. The improvised sling had the desired effect of taking some of the weight off her wound, and with her own injury momentarily tended to she knelt down to examine Pera.
Peering carefully beneath the bound dressings one by one, she tried her best to determine what was causing the boy's ongoing discomfort. To her surprise she discovered that Fern or one of the others had managed to stitch the largest gash closed using sinew from the animals they had hunted. It was an ugly piece of healing, but it had worked, and the wound looked to be closing well. She suspected the boy might have broken bones, if the bruising beneath his fur was anything to go by, but it was difficult to tell through the gentle pressure of her fingers alone. He whimpered and squirmed at the lightest touch, and she feared any deeper probing might do more harm than good. When she reached one of the final wounds, however, even the motion of easing back the dressing caused Pera to jolt fully awake and yelp in pain, squirming to get away.
"Shh, I'll stop, I'll stop," Netya soothed him, holding his kicking paws gently so that he did not hurt himself further.
Fern stirred beside him, blinking herself awake as her hands moved instinctively to stroke the boy's muzzle. "Pera, I'm here," she said softly, massaging the back of his neck until he stilled, though his pained whimpers continued.
Netya realised her hand was trembling as she met her friend's weary eyes. "Something is wrong with this wound," she said softly. "It should not be hurting him so much. The others are far worse."
"What can we do to heal it?"
"I do not know." Netya shook her head. "It is beyond my skill. He needs Adel and the others."
"He cannot travel like this."
"I fear he will have to. We can bind him upon Eyan's back, and I can ride with one of the others. The longer we wait, the worse he may become."
Fern looked down at the twitching wolf resting against her lap, her features drawn. Pera was an independent youngster, but he was also Wren's friend, and as a result he had spent more time around Fern than perhaps any of the other adults. It was clear that she had grown to care for him.
"I allowed him to join us," she said.
"Kin was the one who led him into danger," Netya replied, drawing her friend close and kissing the side of her forehead. "Adel will be able to heal him. Who else can mend such injuries better than her?"
Fern nodded, brushing the back of her hand across her eyes. "I will gather the others, then," she answered huskily.
Eyan kept watch on their captive while Fern disappeared to track down Kin and one of the other men, both of whom appeared to have gone out hunting. With her arm still paining her, Netya could not take the shape of her wolf unless she planned on limping around three-legged, so she took the opportunity instead to forage close to their camp, searching for any plants that might help her heal Pera's wounds. It was not too difficult to find a handful of soft leaves that could be used as better dressings, but the thicket near the creek was devoid of any herbs that would help the flesh mend or bring a person into a painless sleep.
Netya's lack of fortune began to weigh even more heavily on her when she realised how difficult it would be to bind Pera upon Eyan's back for the journey home, and the discomfort it would cause the young wolf as they travelled. If the slightest touch from her could evoke enough pain to wake him from sleep, how would he be able to endure the jolting rhythm of a running wolf? The Moon People were capable of immense grace and care when it came to carrying others upon their backs, but it would be a long journey with many opportunities for missteps and stumbles. She knew that Caspian had once carried her a great distance upon his back when she was sick and dying from Khelt's bite, but she had been mercifully unconscious for most of the journey and remembered very little of it.
Just as she was beginning to believe there was no way of bringing Pera comfortably home, her eyes settled on a small, bushy tangle of foliage at the base of one of the trees. She had dismissed it at first, for what use could the berries there possibly be to her? The last time she had seen them they had almost been responsible for the death of her mentor.
A cluster of plump nightwood berries glistened with sparkles of dew, as ripe and inviting as any fruit, but filled with poison that could madden and kill. Dangerous, but sometimes useful. Netya recalled how her first journey into the spirit world had been induced by the nightwood berries, taken in a small but safe amount. To this day it was still the most vivid detachment from the waking world she had ever experienced. Even when it became a nightmare she had still remained lost in the experience for many long hours, completely unaware of anything else. Was forcing Pera to confront the spirit world a greater mercy than subjecting him to the agony of his wounds?
It was not a traditional remedy, nor one that she suspected most seers would approve of. The nightwood berries were precious, used only in solemn rituals and handled with the greatest of care. Their magic was not the kind to be used lightly on those outside of the seerhood.
Biting her lip, Netya combed the surrounding area one last time for any other useful plants, but before long she heard the sound of paws splashing back across the creek. There was no more time. Pera needed help, and they could not afford to linger much longer. Hurrying back to the bush, Netya plucked three of the nightwood berries and palmed them in her wounded hand, praying she would not need to use them.
Though Pera had been at the forefront of her mind, the men were clearly preoccupied by an equally pressing matter when she returned to the camp. All four of them stood around the fire gazing down at their bound captive, who now looked distinctly more weary and pale than he had the night before. Kin, much to Netya's relief, turned away with a look of shame when she approached, averting his eyes from the wound he had given her.
"Kin," she said softly. "Will you carry me on the journey back? I cannot run by myself."
The male gave her a stiff nod. "Of course."
Netya would have liked to pretend she was giving him a chance at atonement, but in truth she was more concerned with keeping him out of trouble while Fern led the way. He would be less likely to run off again if he had someone to carry.
"We must get Pera upon Eyan's back," Netya said. "We can use this cord Fern made to bind him in place, but it will be difficult with him in the shape of his wolf. Use your clothing to pad his chest and keep the pressure away from his wounds if you can, especially the one that pains him most."
With nothing more than a simple nod of acknowledgement, Eyan took the shape of his wolf and lay down next to Pera, the difference in size between the two of them almost absurd. Eyan was nearly as big as a horse, large enough that the youngster would have difficulty slipping off if he was bound securely.
The other three men, however, were slower to act. They cast apprehensive glances between Netya and their captive, clearly waiting on her solution to their other problem.
"Go and help with Pera," she said, her tone firm but gentle. The
y obeyed, yet all three of them kept one eye on her as she knelt down by the fire and picked up a crude skinning blade someone had fashioned to dress the spoils of their hunt. It was little more than a hastily split flint biface, but the cutting edge was still sharp.
The bound man's dull eyes flicked up to meet hers as she approached him, filled with something that almost looked like relief.
"My clan will avenge me," he murmured, his dry voice cracking with pain.
"There is nothing for them to avenge," Netya said, and she leaned down to cut the length of bramble twined around his neck, then the second piece binding his scratched wrists together. A moment of silence followed as both the captive and the other men struggled to understand what Netya's actions meant.
"You may go back to your pack," she said. "We will not stop you. There is no need for any more blood to be spilled."
The man narrowed his eyes, remaining seated. "Truly, you would spare me? Then you are a fool. You know what my alpha will do when he learns of this."
"Even he agrees," Kin muttered under his breath, but he made no move to intervene.
"I understand," Netya said. "But killing is not our way. We must hope that your alpha is wise enough to see that there is no need for more fighting." She did not believe it, but she had to hope. She had to justify her decision to take mercy on the man somehow. Was she a fool? Perhaps. But she was not wicked. She would not kill another in cold blood if it could be avoided.
The man staggered to his feet, still regarding her with a look that seemed to expect betrayal at any moment. "You would rather fight us with spells and curses, wouldn't you? I saw your den mother call spirit fire from her fingers at the gathering."
"If your alpha comes to our lands then we shall be forced to, and then you will face worse than fire. But I will put no curse upon you today. Go. Leave us to tend our wounded friend."
The man waited, watching the others, a flicker of hope lighting up his eyes. He rubbed his raw wrists, backing away a few paces. When no one made any move to stop him, he drew himself up to his full height and regarded Netya again.
"A fool you may be, witch, but an honourable one." He paused, thinking carefully before he continued. When he did, it was in a lighter, almost matter-of-fact tone. "It will take me near three days to return to my alpha and bring him back here, if he departs right away. And I expect he shall. For sparing my life, I tell you this."
"Then your alpha has not left to fight Octavia?"
The man deigned not to answer. He had revealed all he was willing to. One small gesture of mercy for another. "Three days," he said. "Time enough for you to flee your den and spare yourselves from my alpha's wrath, as you have spared me from yours."
"But we must carry our wounded friend and let him heal. Your alpha would not come if you did not—"
"I am loyal to my alpha. I will hide no truths from him," the man said, shooting the others a glance that challenged them to try and stop him. "But... I must rest and hunt before I depart."
"Thank you," Netya said quietly, offering him a smile of gratitude.
He did not smile back, only inclining his head in a gesture of mild respect before turning away and taking the shape of his wolf. A moment later he was gone, the sound of his paws splashing through the creek the only residue of his presence.
Three days. Perhaps a little longer if the scout was true to his word and stopped to rest. Then they would see whether Miral's clan possessed the skill to track them back to the river, and into the valley beyond.
—31—
Blessings and Curses
They had barely left the thicket before Pera's cries of pain brought them to a halt. The youngster was squirming and clawing at his bearer, and the moment Netya dismounted she saw blood running from Eyan's neck where Pera had bitten him. The soft padding of clothing had not been enough to keep the boy's wounds from troubling him. For all Netya knew the journey might be making his condition even worse, but the only alternative was to wait and watch his strength slip away bit by bit.
Dry sticks crunched beneath Fern's paws as she paced agitated circles around Eyan, who lowered himself to the ground in stoic silence so that Netya could tend the small wolf writhing on his back. It was not simply a matter of easing Pera's pain; if he continued to struggle, he would eventually break the grass cords holding him in place.
Realising that she had no other choice, Netya withdrew one of the nightwood berries from the small medicine pouch she kept tucked inside her clothing. Sticky juice ran down her finger as she pierced the fruit with a fingernail, scooping off a small piece and lifting it to Pera's muzzle.
"Here, this will help. It will make the pain go away," she murmured, tilting his head upright so that she could place the piece of berry on his tongue. Once he had swallowed it she waited, wondering how long it would take for the grip of the spirit world to embrace him. The moments stretched by agonisingly, and still Pera's whimpers of pain continued. Eventually Kin reverted from the shape of his wolf and insisted that Netya give him more of whatever medicine she was using.
"Too much will make him sick, it may even kill him!" she whispered sharply, hoping Pera had not heard. "Be patient."
They continued to wait, and all the while Netya struggled to remember how much of the nightwood berry poison she had taken on her first journey into the spirit world. Pera was smaller than her, and so he would need less. She remembered that much from Adel's teachings. But was it not also true that some berries and leaves, even those from the same plant, were sometimes stronger than others? What if the ones she had picked were too weak?
Eventually she scooped off another tiny piece of the fruit and made Pera swallow again, her agitation growing as she realised that the day was wearing on. Every moment they lingered was another moment closer to Miral learning of what had happened. It occurred to her too late that she should have sent one of the others on ahead to warn the pack, but just as she was about to voice the thought she realised that Pera had fallen silent. The young wolf's eyes were still open, flicking back and forth like flecks of light on a rippling pond, but they seemed blind to the world around him.
"Pera?" She said softly, resting a hand on his side. His fur prickled beneath her touch, but otherwise he seemed completely unaware of her presence. Netya breathed a sigh of relief, backing away and calling Kin over. "The spirit world has taken him. Let us hope he remains there until we return to the valley."
With their wounded youngster offering no more than the occasional snuffle and squirm of discomfort, they set off again to the east. The rain had all but scattered the scent trail they had left two days ago, but they made better time despite the lack of guidance on their uphill trek. Kin and his companions had been chasing their stag in and out of every thicket lining the valley's base on their original journey, and Fern and Netya had been preoccupied with trying to follow their scent. Now, with nothing to hunt and no trail to stalk, they were free to make directly for the river, and by the time the sun had started to dip below the mountains they were paddling across the water back toward their own territory. Netya was reluctant to give Pera any more of the berries, for she knew too little about their dangers to be confident in what she was doing, but when the boy began slipping out of his trance late in the afternoon she was forced to give him another tiny sliver of fruit that quickly dragged him back into the world of dreams.
Pera showed no more signs of discomfort, but he seemed weaker than ever. The wound that had been bothering him began to bleed again, reaffirming Netya's decision to bring him back to Adel as quickly as possible. Wolves of the Moon People did not simply start bleeding once their wounds had already closed; their quick healing made such things virtually unheard of, and certainly far beyond the scope of Netya's knowledge to heal.
She urged the others silently on as she rode upon Kin's back, gripping his sides tight with her knees as she grit her teeth through the steady tug of weight that had been building on her arm all day. Almost as if she had been in the shape of her wolf al
ongside them, they seemed to intuit her determination without the need for words. Not once did they slow or stop without her instruction, not even to rest or drink. That she had somehow ended up in a position of authority over the small hunting pack was just as shocking as everything else that had happened, but since there were more pressing concerns to worry herself over she paid it little mind. Somehow she had struck obedience into them in the way that only their kind could, through sheer force of will or determination. Their animal nature had reacted instinctively, bowing to the alpha, allowing her to exercise the same power over others that Adel commanded. She would need to give it deeper thought, commune with her wolf and feel for the questions that her two-legged self could not answer. If she ever had the chance, of course.
The moon was clear in the sky by the time the eerie rattling of bone chimes reached their ears, white stars glistening their beauty across the heavens in stark contrast to the leering eye sockets of the totems that lined the path around them. The stag skull upon its cairn in the middle of the valley welcomed them home, the polished ivory glinting a faint red in the distant firelight.
Netya dismounted before Kin had even brought his lumbering body to a full halt, stumbling on the rocks and hissing through clenched teeth as her wounded arm struck against his side. The urgency of their arrival had brought several of the others to their feet around the fire outside the central cave, and a moment later Meadow was propping Netya up with both hands, the woman's usual meek expression galvanized by fear.
"You are wounded! I thought you were only going to the river. What happened?"
"Fetch the den mother," Netya replied, brushing away the hands that plucked anxiously at her arm dressing. "Pera is badly hurt. He is on Eyan's back, be careful when you lift him down—" A rush of the same lightheadedness that had struck her when her wound was fresh returned, bringing a flutter to her eyelids as she staggered back and tripped.