by Claudia King
She took a step toward the hiding place, then paused as she remembered where the herbs had come from. This was what Adel wanted her to do. There was poison buried in the temptation somewhere. Whether it was simply that she wanted to deny Khelt an heir, or something more sinister Netya had yet to comprehend, she did not want to play into the den mother's schemes.
Shoring up her resolve, she turned her back on the rocks and walked away.
Despite all of their preparations, the rains came on so hard and so suddenly that Fern and Netya did not even have time to return to their tent before the sudden deluge had swept across the camp and extinguished the central fire. Those who had dwellings nearby scurried back to their own abodes, while those who lived further up the outcrop were ushered into the earth lodges big enough to accommodate them. Netya and Fern ended up packed in with the food stores and the wrinkled old woman who rationed them, listening to her mutter and curse under her breath as she squinted out at the downpour.
"The others will be soaked," Fern said, referring to the men who had been out checking the edges of the outcrop for signs of wear, where exposed earth parched by the summer sun might be washed away in the wet season.
Netya's thoughts could not be distracted by the thought of a few sodden wolves, however. As she sat in the lodge's entrance chewing her lip, all she could think about was the bag of herbs jammed into the crack in the rock. If they were not soaked through already, they would be by the time the rain passed.
A crack of lightning split the air, and the old woman yelped in alarm, leaping into the shape of her wolf with more agility than her age should have allowed, before scurrying to the back of the lodge and curling into a ball.
"And the sky is restless tonight," Fern said anxiously.
Netya rocked back and forth in agitation, no less unnerved by the storm, but even more concerned about the hidden bag than she had been before. Lightning was rarely a good omen. For a crazed moment she wondered whether perhaps Adel herself had called the storm to test her resolve. That was foolish. No shaman or witch could do such things.
But whether or not she intended to use the herbs, once more she found herself unwilling to let the choice slip through her fingers. She did not want to wait passively, as she had done her entire life in the village, waiting for fate to carry her in whatever direction it pleased. Even if it meant playing into Adel's hands, at least she would be doing it of her own accord.
"Wait for me, I will be back soon," she said, and before Fern could question her or protest Netya jumped to her feet and ran out into the deluge. Her friend's calls were swallowed up by the rushing sound of the rain a moment later as she hurried as fast as she could up the muddying path to their tent.
The wet season in the forests had been bad, but here it seemed a truly wild force of nature. Sharp droplets stung her face as the wind whipped sheets of rain across the exposed outcrop. Within moments the dark clouds had transformed early dusk into blue midnight, and another flash of lightning blinded her before its distant echo rumbled across the plains a few seconds later.
Netya's clothes had almost soaked through already. Her braid tugged heavily at her scalp as water weighed it down. If she was not careful, she might easily lose her footing on the steep slope where she had hidden the herbs.
But Netya's mind was set, and even the frightening crash of thunder could not dissuade her as she clambered around the rocks and hurried past her tent. She squinted through the rain, trying to place where she had hidden the bag. The edge of the outcrop looked even more treacherous as water rushed through the grass in miniature torrents, running off the slick rocks and dribbling down from the overhang where the ground ended.
Netya's eyes widened. There had been no overhang the last time she passed this way. A piece of the ground had already peeled away under the weight of the sudden rain seeping into it, exposing more of the raw stone beneath the soil. Even as she watched another muddy sliver of earth detached itself from the edge, the cracked ground splitting off piece by piece like twigs of kindling under an axe.
She crept toward the rock where she had hidden the bag with renewed care, testing the ground gingerly with each step before twining her bare toes into the grass for support. If her feet went out from under her she would go straight off the edge, and it was a steep, rocky descent to the bottom.
The smaller stone she had jammed in to conceal the bag was still lodged firmly in its crack, and with a little tugging it slipped free and tumbled down the slope, clacking off the exposed stone as it fell. She thought she heard something else, a distant groan on the wind, as if the storm itself was howling at her. Stuffing her hand into the opening, her fingers closed around the dry bulge of animal hide, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Only a small trickle of water had reached it so far, and the contents were likely unspoilt.
Netya tucked the bag into her clothing, making sure it rested in the driest spot possible close to her stomach, then began edging her way back up the unstable slope. The lightning flashed again, and before the sound of its arrival drowned out everything else another howling voice filled Netya's ears for a fraction of a second. She paused, peering at the edge of the overhang. Was it the spirits of nature howling at her, or had the voice belonged to a person? She did not want to stay out in the downpour a moment longer than she had to, but her curiosity got the better of her. Was she becoming too reckless these days?
Edging back to the overhang, she dropped to her hands and knees and found a stable spot from which to peer over. She saw the marks where fingers had clawed at the earth before anything else. A desperate hand had flailed for something sturdy to grip in this spot, and found only mud and loose turf to hang on to. Then she saw Erech's body sprawled half way down the slope below her. He was half-buried in soil and stone, and the puddle of water he lay in was clouded with blood.
"Erech!" she called, frozen in shock. She could not tell whether he heard her over the rain, or if he was even still alive. In her mind she pictured everything that had happened in an instant. Erech was not the type to patiently circle the outcrop to get out of the rain when he could quickly scale the side in half the time, regardless of how dangerous it might be by comparison.
His body moved, and another faint groan reached her ears on the wind. The glimmer of life snapped Netya out of her fear. Swinging a leg over the edge, she scrabbled her way down the slope as fast as she could, slipping and stumbling as a cascade of mud followed in the wake of her descent. A heavy lump of it spattered into her hair, sending her reeling off balance. Her knees hit the ground hard, sending a shock of pain through her lower body as she flailed for something to grab on to, tumbling over and over down the steep slope in a flurry of mud and water.
The same jutting rock that had caught Erech broke her fall, bringing her to a painful halt as she collapsed atop the wounded male. The cry of pain that left his lips quickly became a groan of relief, and he gripped her arm so hard that she had no time to fret over her own bruises.
"Erech!" she exclaimed again, finding her way to her knees beside him. Her brow creased in desperation as she searched for the words she needed.
"Pain?" she said in his tongue. "Hurt? Very bad?"
The male looked up at her through lidded eyes, repeating her name under his breath as if seeing her through a daze. Panic quickened her heartbeat. Pain had to be very great indeed to drive sense and speech from a person's mind.
Allowing him to retain his grip on her arm, she turned her attention to his lower body, brushing off as much mud and grit as she could. He had been half-buried in the landslide that sent him falling, and not just by soil, but several heavy rocks as well. More and more blood coated her hands as she cleared away the debris until, with a lurching of her stomach, she felt Erech's leg twisting at an unnatural angle beneath the mud. A huge slab of stone had slid loose along with the earth, and the young male's lower leg had been crushed and twisted beneath it. She did not even need to try moving him to know it was impossible.
"Oh, Erech
," she choked out as tears filled her eyes. She had never known a person to survive an injury so severe.
Netya might have remained there holding Erech's hand until his life left him had Fern's voice not reached her ears from the top of the outcrop. She filled her lungs and called back in response, yelling as loud as she could over the downpour until her friend's face finally peeked over the edge of the overhang. Fern took in the scene in a glance, and to her credit wasted no time indulging the obvious shock that registered on her face before slipping into the shape of her wolf and hurrying back to fetch the others.
"Your pack will be here soon," Netya soothed, propping the young man's head up in her lap as he squeezed her hand with rapidly ebbing strength. She knew he could not understand her, but she carried on with her gentle words, almost as much for her own benefit as his. The sickening sensation in the pit of her stomach had her feeling faint, and she could not bear to look at Erech's twisted leg and the steady stream of blood seeping out of him. Every few moments she caught a coppery tang in the air over the smell of the rain, and her dizziness threatened to overwhelm her. She had never been this close to a person so seriously injured before. Never this close to a friend who was about to die.
It was only a matter of minutes before the others arrived, but Netya felt she had been cradling Erech's broken body in her lap for hours. Khelt bounded down the side of the outcrop first, the paws of his wolf springing from rock to rock until he splashed into the pool of crimson water at her side. He reverted to his normal shape a moment later, barking something urgently in his own tongue before remembering that Netya could not understand him.
"How long has he been here? Can he move?"
Netya gave him a tearful shake of her head, then pointed at Erech's trapped leg.
The alpha swallowed and set his jaw firmly, but even his stoic resolve could not hide the pain in his expression.
"It's very bad, isn't it?" she said.
"We must get him free," Khelt replied, jumping to his feet and bracing himself to grip the rock that had fallen on Erech's leg. He dug his feet into the muddy ground, ignoring the pieces of soil that continued to tumble down from above, and braced his hands beneath the edges of the slab.
Netya had never seen him so driven before. The alpha's brow knotted with strain, and a deep growl built in his chest as he heaved with all his might.
The rock did not move an inch.
"Khelt—" she began, but he silenced her with a feral bark.
The alpha repositioned himself and threw his weight against the slab again, groaning with exertion as he pushed, refusing to back down. His moccasins ground themselves backwards through the mud, digging up small furrows of earth as Khelt's body shook, tendons rising to the surface of his skin as his breath stuttered through clenched teeth. For agonising moments he forced every bit of his considerable strength up against the rock, but it refused to yield. When at last Khelt finally admitted defeat it was with a roar of pain as he shifted position at the wrong moment and something within his body gave.
Netya called out his name again in concern, but she could not leave Erech to rush to his side. The alpha slumped against the slab, features contorted in pain as he clutched his shoulder.
"Get more of the others," he growled through his teeth. "The strongest hunters, find all of them."
Fern had been watching anxiously from half way up the slope, and she bobbed her lupine head in acquiescence before dashing off again to carry out the alpha's command. The pack members who had followed after them were peering down from the overhang, some picking their way gingerly down the treacherous incline to offer whatever help they could.
"We need the seers, for Erech and for you," Netya said, trying to focus on what she could do to help rather than everything she could not.
"For him, not me," Khelt huffed, pacing back and forth despite the intense torment he was clearly in. His right arm hung limply by his side, hand clutched to his shoulder as he closed his eyes and fought through the pain of his torn muscles.
Two of the seers arrived before any of the hunters Khelt had sent for, but when they tried to usher Netya out of the way Erech cried out in alarm and clung to her hand tighter.
"Here, Erech, Netya here," she said clumsily in words he could understand. She thought his breathing had already grown shallower, though amidst the heavy rain it was difficult to tell. He groaned and squeezed at her hand again, trying to move and crying out in pain as his leg shifted.
"Here!" Netya squeezed back desperately, then leant down so that her lips were close to his ear. "Alpha Erech. Netya here," she whispered, repeating the simple words again as he stilled, his breathing becoming less agitated.
After that the seers seemed to agree that her presence was necessary after all, but after a brief examination it became apparent that there was little they could do. They slipped one of their dried pain-dulling plant bulbs into the young man's mouth for him to chew, then after a few solemn words with Khelt the alpha sent them aside to wait with the others.
Netya had never seen Adel's wolf before, but when a graceful, dark-furred female with streaks of white running through her black coat hopped down to join them she knew it could be no one else. Even in her animal shape the den mother was a creature of elegance and beauty, gliding down the slippery slope like a dancer in the rain. Netya could not even spare a thought for how much Adel's presence unnerved her in the face of her despair. A few short months ago she had gazed with fascination on the remains of these people, and now she could not bear the thought of death visiting the pack who had taken her in.
"Can you do anything more to ease his pain?" Netya asked softly. "I do not think he has much blood left to lose."
"Where is Fern with the hunters?" Khelt growled.
Adel ignored the pair of them as she left the guise of her wolf behind and crouched down over Erech, examining his crushed leg with prying fingers that elicited more cries of pain from the young man.
"You're hurting him!" Netya exclaimed, but Adel silenced her with a curt response.
"Shut up girl, I am saving his life."
Khelt glowered at her. "Your seers said nothing could be done."
"I have experience they do not."
"You are half their age."
Adel finally returned his glare, hatred burning in her eyes. "And when I was still a child I was helping my pack's seers heal the warriors your clan sent home maimed. I know these wounds."
The pair stared each other down, their battle of wills undercut only by the sound of the rain and the distant rumble of thunder.
"How?" Khelt said at last.
Adel turned back to her patient. "Bring me a sharp knife and an axe. I will remove his leg."
"He will die!" Netya exclaimed, cradling Erech's head closer.
"Your people may, ours will not. If I can get to the wound and close it he may heal before his blood runs out, but I can do nothing for him like this."
"You may as well send him to his death," Khelt snarled. "If you cared to grow close with your pack you would know Erech as we do. A life as a cripple is no life for a man like him."
Netya thought she saw tears in Khelt's eyes, but once again the rain cast a veil over the truth.
"All he dreams of is his future," the alpha continued. "The days when he will lead the hunters. Grow stronger, run faster, become a man among all men. What will he have left if all he longs for is taken away?"
"His life," Adel said. "And freedom from juvenile dreams."
"Of course you would not understand," Khelt snorted, turning away. "We wait for the others. With their help we can move the rock."
"Even if you move it he will still be a cripple," Adel said. "The bone and flesh will not mend the way it once was."
"But he will still walk."
Adel rose to her feet, and the look Netya glimpsed on her face brought back all the girl's fears of the den mother tenfold. She looked furious, a storm brewing behind her dark eyes as she approached Khelt as if she was every bit th
e male—every bit the alpha—he was. She stood not an inch shorter than her opponent.
"Every minute you waste more of his blood washes away with the rain. You will let him die for the sake of pride." Her words were steady, but the power in her voice simmered like fire. A controlled blaze, but one that could still sear flesh from bone.
Khelt's injured arm tensed, forming a tight fist at his side. He gave not an inch. "And you would deny him the chance at taking back his life. I dare to hope, witch, while you run and cower from it like a scared child." He hissed the last words so softly Netya barely heard them.
She was terrified now, not just for Erech, but for Khelt. More than that, even, she was terrified for the whole pack. The alpha and den mother looked as if they were about to let loose the beasts within them and tear out each other's throats.
Netya averted her eyes, the girl's tears falling on Erech's face as she rocked him gently, afraid that anything she said to intervene might only provoke the two others further. She returned to mumbling her soothing words to the young man under her breath again, closing her eyes and begging the spirits to bring an end to this horrible moment.
And bring an end to it they did. Whether it was the earth itself heeding her plea, or the weight of the collected pack members peering out from the overhang, the ground above them suddenly shifted with an audible tearing of soil and grass. A collective cry went up from the group as they stumbled backwards, tugging those closest to the edge away as a huge piece of the outcrop began to detach itself.
The landslide happened within moments, but in the brief instant before the earth came down on top of them Adel took the shape of her wolf and darted to the side, while Khelt threw himself over Netya and knocked her to the ground, shielding her and Erech with his body as the falling mass of earth split in two and rattled down through the rocks all around them. A crack almost as loud as the lightning itself split the air as a second huge slab came free and plummeted edge-first into the piece that had pinned Erech's leg, sending an explosion of sharp chips through the air that stung Netya's legs and cut open her skin.