Beneath the Twin Moons of Haldae

by Angela Yseult

  Just as Zaren was about to stand and excuse herself, Brink cleared her throat quietly and said, her voice warm and forgiving, “I doubt you have realized it yet, but this is not going too well for you. What is it you’re not telling us, child?”

  Chapter 8

  Closer

  With the urgency to shift pushing at him, Kris kept Zaren walking longer that day, hoping to get as close as possible to the edge of the woods and the Ushias’ territory, where he thought the shuttle had disappeared. Once night started falling, however, he had to concede that it was useless. With his final shift now so close, his eyesight was better even in human form, but Zaren did not have such an advantage.

  Fatigue and darkness combined to make her trip and stumble. The rain earlier had drenched everything, and more than once her damaged shoes betrayed her over roots, slippery leaves, and rocks. She never complained or asked for rest, as though she could sense that they were getting close, but he could see how exhausted she was, how much slower she walked. After she fell for the third time, her knees now stained with grass and dirt, Kris held on to her hand as he helped her up.

  “Rest?” he offered, and the look of grateful relief on her face was answer enough.

  As long as Kris had kept moving, the wolf had been relatively easy to contain. Now that he was standing still though, threading large leaves together again to build a shelter, his hands—then his entire body—started shaking. He clenched his teeth and focused on his work.

  Sitting on a flat rock, Zaren wrapped her arms around her legs. She hadn’t offered to help like earlier. Her cheek rested on her knee, and she seemed to be struggling to keep her eyes open. She hadn’t even unfolded the blanket he had suggested she take from the shelter—too tired, maybe, to think about it—and it wasn’t long before she was shivering in the rapidly cooling evening air.

  Kris had planned to make a bigger shelter in which she could stretch out to sleep, he had intended to build a fire for her so she wouldn’t get too cold, but he soon had to give up on that notion or risk shifting right there, in front of Zaren. As quickly as he could, he cut thin, straight branches and planted them in the ground around Zaren before laying the leaves he had collected over them. At least, if it rained again, she would have some cover.

  “I’m sorry,” he said as he slipped the strap of the fruit bag over his shoulder and placed it on the ground next to her. “I should have stopped earlier to build a better shelter. That’s the best I can do now.”

  She raised her head as he spoke and gave him a slight, tired frown. “Kris?”

  “Rest,” he said, already backing away. “I’ll be back, I promise. Just rest.”

  She made an aborted gesture, as though to reach for him or follow him, but when he repeated a third time, “Rest,” she set her cheek on her knee again. He could have sworn he could feel her eyes following him until he stopped behind a thick tree four times wider than he was. Leaning a shaking hand against the trunk, Kris closed his eyes tight and tried to get a grip on himself.

  He was too close to let the wolf take over now; it might be his final shift if he did, and he didn’t dare let that happen with Zaren so close—so defenseless. He had to shift of his own accord. Maybe if he tried to take another form, he thought with a sudden rush of desperation, he would be able to push back the moment when his final form seized all that he was. With all his might, he focused on the body of his bird form, imagining already the wind catching his feathers, lifting him up and—

  A flash of pain lanced through him, breaking his concentration. Kris gasped. This had happened before, when he had been much younger. It happened to all children who foolishly tried to force a change into a form that wasn’t theirs. Kris knew better than to keep trying. Taking in a deep breath, he let the wolf envelope him, become him. When he opened his eyes again, everything around him seemed clearer, every sound sharper, every scent…

  He raised his muzzle and sniffed the air. All he could smell was Zaren.

  Slow, silent steps took him back toward the shelter. He advanced with his tail low and his ears flattened over his head, as though to make himself less noticeable. He stopped as soon as he could see her and lay on the ground, his head resting on his extended paws. He would cling to his mind like he had before, by focusing on her, on the idea of not hurting her. He could do this.

  He had to do this.

  For a long while, Zaren was immobile, and so was Kris. Maybe she had fallen asleep, he thought—and then she came out from underneath the shelter. Kris’ body tensed and he wondered what she would do, where she would go. He hoped she wasn’t foolish enough to wander around alone in the dark. There were creatures other than him in the forest, and while they were kept at bay when he was nearby, he didn’t want her to stumble upon a sleeping bear. Kris would fight for her, of course, but such a fight wouldn’t be pretty.

  To his relief, she only went to the nearest tree and fumbled in the dark for a vine to drink from. Right away, she returned to the shelter and unfolded the blanket. She laid half of it on the ground near the rock she had been sitting on, and curled up on the blanket before drawing the rest of it over her. She rested her head on the rock as though on a pillow. More than ever, Kris berated himself for pushing her so long. He should have made a better shelter. He should have lit a fire. Already, from a hundred paces away, he could see her shivering under the thin blanket.

  Without thinking, he stood and started toward her, each step slow and measured. The last thing he wanted was to scare her. When he had crossed half the distance, he realized that even as cold as she had to be, even with an empty stomach since she didn’t seem to have touched the bag of fruit, her tiredness had pulled her into sleep. How restful of a night would it be, though, with a rock for a pillow and the cold of the night surrounding her?

  Still as slow and silent, he finished walking over to her and carefully curled down alongside her to share his warmth with her. He kept expecting her to wake, but all she did was shift a little more toward him in her sleep. A small sigh even passed her lips. A few moments later, she stopped shivering.

  He would only stay there for a little while, Kris promised himself as he watched her delicate features, so open in her sleep. Just long enough for her to get warm.

  He hadn’t counted on his own exhaustion. Within minutes, he, too, was asleep.

  * * * *

  Zaren couldn’t have said what woke her up, but she slipped from deep sleep to full awareness in a wink. And discovered, by the still pale light of the early morning, a wolf lying at her side, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from it.

  Pure terror roiled through her, paralyzing her. It was the same wolf she had seen before. She was sure of it, even if she couldn’t explain how she knew. It was the same wolf she had first seen in the river and that had followed her since, the wolf she now thought might belong to Kris. Thinking that did not reassure her in the slightest, however, not when it was so close, and it was all she could do not to scream.

  As though sensing her fear, the wolf woke. It raised its head and blinked slowly before fixing her with its dark eyes. They were gray, she noticed. Just like Kris’.

  Her throat tight and her heart hammering in her chest, she waited. The wolf didn’t move. It watched her as intently as she watched it, as though waiting for her to make the first move. She had completely forgotten about the knife she was carrying, and could only stare in shock.

  After a few minutes, she cautiously sat up and leaned back against the rock behind her, and the wolf finally moved, sitting on its hunches, still peering at her. It had never looked more like a dog than in that moment—a very large, very frightening dog.

  Swallowing back her fear, she raised her hand very slowly and held it, palm out, toward the wolf. It observed her fingers for a second before sniffing at them and giving them a small lick. His tongue was rough and warm. Zaren could almost have laughed in relief. Bolder now, she reached out to lay her hand on the wolf’s flank, holding it still for an insta
nt against the thick, warm fur. The wolf let her do as she pleased. All it did was tilt its head curiously as though asking her why she had been so scared.

  “You belong to him, don’t you?” she asked, very low. She needed to hear her own voice and assure herself this was really happening. “Did Kris—”

  At the sound of Kris’ name, the wolf abruptly stood and, with a last look at her, trotted away. It had only disappeared for a few moments when Kris returned. She wanted to ask him about the wolf, wanted to know where he had been all night, wanted to tell him that it would be fine if he stayed with her rather than keeping his distance at night. She wanted to tell him she was glad he was back, and that she had missed him.

  It was probably better that she couldn’t say any of it.

  “Shuttle?” she asked when he reached her.

  He smiled.

  * * * *

  The Elders made Zaren sit on a round, grass-filled pillow on the floor while they sat on the same kind of age-old wooden chairs that furnished the Elders’ room. Kris frowned as he realized they were treating her as though she were a child. It displeased him even more that she had no idea what her position in front of them implied.

  For a moment, he thought about asking for a pillow and joining her on the floor. If she didn’t have his support, she had nothing. A quick look at the rest of the circle changed his mind. Eyebrows were rising in his direction already, silently asking why he was still standing and delaying Zaren’s interrogation. If he followed his heart rather than his head now, he would only make things worse—worse for Zaren.

  He sat, his fists resting on his thighs, and forced himself to take a deep breath through his nose to calm down. Across from him, Zaren sat cross-legged, the long, wide skirt Elea had given her covering her legs in its folds. Her eyes were flitting between the Elders and Kris, always coming back to him as though hoping for a word of reassurance. Kris would have liked nothing more than to give her that word, but he was forbidden from speaking. All he could do was smile at her and give her a small, encouraging nod. She smiled back, relaxing ever so slightly.

  “Do you understand my words?” Elder Sarly asked abruptly, without introducing himself or anyone else.

  Zaren’s eyes focused on him at once. “I do understand you. My name is Zaren. May I ask—”

  A murmur ran over the circle at the unknown words coming from her lips, while the translating machine at her throat spoke their language.

  “What witchery is this!” Elder Pala exclaimed, standing and pointing a shaky finger at Zaren.

  She raised her hands, palms out in an appeasing gesture.

  “Not witchery, I swear. This won’t hurt you.” She touched the small device with a finger. “It’s just a means for me to talk to you.”

  The Elders conferred in hushed voices. Unable to speak, Kris didn’t bother listening. He wished he could have taught more of his language to Zaren. He should have realized the translating machine would be a problem. Crossing his arms, he scowled at the Elders. If they discussed every word that came out of Zaren’s mouth like this, they would spend the entire night there. He looked back at her, trying to apologize with a look. She gave a little shrug to tell him that she didn’t blame him.

  He had tried to warn her this could happen, but even so he felt guilty. She had entered the village with him. If he couldn’t stop the Elders from condemning her, it would be as though he had traded her life for Elea’s.

  He’d die trying to free her rather than let that happen.

  Chapter 9

  Coming Out

  Before crashing to the planet, Zaren had thought she was in good physical shape. She was in no way an athlete, but she took care of herself. On what felt like her hundredth day in the forest, only the thought that they were getting close to the shuttle pushed her forward, step after painful step. After sleeping on the ground and walking almost non-stop for two days straight, her body ached in ways she had never imagined.

  And that was before her shoes fell apart.

  They had been walking for two hours that morning, going more slowly than before because Zaren simply couldn’t keep up, when she tripped yet again. She didn’t have time to throw her hands in front of her to cushion her fall, but she was lucky enough to land on a carpet of thick, dewy moss.

  With a groan, she turned and sat up, looking straight up while she caught her breath. The forest was less dense here, and she could see a patch of light blue sky high above her and the edge of a pale moon slowly drifting into view.

  Kris said a few words, drawing her eyes to him. He looked on edge as he walked back to her. Maybe he was getting frustrated that she was slowing their pace so much. How long would he indulge her before getting tired of the entire situation? Would he leave her to find her way to the shuttle then? She couldn’t believe he would abandon her, but just the same, she couldn’t stop the worry from spreading inside her when his frown deepened.

  He crouched in front of her and picked up something brown and limp from the ground. It took Zaren a few seconds to recognize her shoe, and realize that her left foot was now bare. Dampness had permeated both her shoes long before, and there was little difference between the damp moss beneath her left foot and the damp material beneath her right.

  Kris turned what was left of her shoe between his hands. Stained by grass and mud, the top of it was torn in two places, while the sole had come apart. Dropping it on the ground, Kris touched her other shoe. The sole pulled off under his fingers; it wouldn’t take much for this shoe to come apart like the other one.

  “Great,” Zaren muttered. “How am I going to walk now?”

  She eyed Kris’ bare feet morosely. He was clearly used to hiking through the woods like this, but she wasn’t. Rocks, mud, slippery leaves or thorny plants—this promised to be rough.

  Kris said a few words. He sounded a little pensive, though Zaren had no idea what he could be saying. Encouragement? Was he telling her it wouldn’t be that bad? Was he promising her they were almost there? Or was he simply telling her to get a grip or he’d wash his hands of her?

  That last option, as improbable as it may be, almost made walking barefoot seem like a pleasant adventure.

  “Zaren?” Kris said, and from the tone of his voice it wasn’t the first time he had said her name. She looked at him and saw that he was holding out his empty hand to her. “Knife?”

  She blinked at him once before recognizing the word and nodding. She pulled the knife from the fruit bag and gave it to him hilt first, then watched as he dug it into the soft moss, cutting a square sheet of it, then a second one. Next, he stood and gathered a few thick, shiny leaves as wide as both of Zaren’s hands put together.

  Under her widening eyes, he used vines to bind the leaves and moss together, fashioning them into a small boot directly around her left foot. Without a word, he tugged her remaining shoe off and proceeded to cover that foot the same way. When he was done, he stood up and held out his hand to Zaren. She clasped it, and he helped her to her feet. He didn’t let go immediately and held on to her as she took a few careful steps. The makeshift shoes seemed secure on her feet and were more comfortable than she would have expected.

  “Thank you,” she said, smiling at him and squeezing his fingers.

  He returned the smile, though it seemed a little forced, and dropped her hand. A muscle in his jaw clenched several times, and Zaren found herself wondering if he was angry—and if so, why. What had she done? What could she do to make it better?

  She said his name questioningly, wishing she could ask him what was wrong. He shook his head just once and said one familiar word: “Shuttle.”

  She picked up her shredded shoes—don’t leave anything behind, her instructor’s voice trilled in her mind—and stuffed them into the fruit bag along with the knife. They started walking again.

  Kris was still picking fruit, edibles leaves and roots as they walked, but the playfulness was gone. It seemed more like a chore than anything else, and when they stopped at midda
y, he seemed impatient to be on his way again.

  Zaren wished she could have asked what had changed, whether she had done something wrong. She also wished she could have asked about the wolf, about where Kris went every night, and why the wolf remained at bay during the day. Finally, she wished that she could have told him she was grateful; her smiles didn’t seem enough anymore, and Kris didn’t react to them as he had before.

  As the afternoon waned, the vegetation around them grew thinner, the trees both smaller and growing further apart. Excitement slowly replaced her weariness, and she found herself walking faster to catch up with Kris and walk by his side.

  “The shuttle?” she asked, hoping the tone of her voice would convey the meaning of her words. “Are we getting closer?”

  Kris breathed in deeply, keeping his eyes straight ahead of him. Yet again, a muscle twitched in his clenched jaw.

  “Shuttle,” he repeated, adding a few more incomprehensible words.

  Zaren tried to hang on to her hope, as difficult as it was when Kris’ friendly personality had all but disappeared. The language barrier was hard on her, but as long as he had smiled with every word, she had been able to carry on. Whatever was affecting his mood now made everything that much more difficult to endure.

  Her heart jumped when they reached the edge of the forest. Straight ahead of her, the moons were slowly gliding toward the horizon, two thin crescents, clearer than they had been when she crashed. They weren’t what caught her eyes, though.

  To her left, not very far, the light of the setting sun reflected over what could not be anything other than her shuttle. It was some distance still, maybe half an hour away, but as far as she could tell, it was in good shape. Maybe the emergency landing systems had come back online in time, maybe all she needed was to climb into the shuttle and fly, maybe—