by Claudia King
Netya spared one final glance for the fallen tree as it floated away downriver, silently thanking whatever spirit inhabited it. Without that tree the river would have killed them many times over, and she felt almost sorrowful to be leaving it behind.
For the first time in many days they took the shapes of their wolves. Netya felt as if she were a wingless bird suddenly remembering how to fly. The keenness of her nose, the sharpness of her eyes, and the speed of her legs made her feel like no darkness would ever be too black, no current to strong, to ever make her afraid again.
The forest undergrowth was dense enough that they had trouble worming their way through it, but with their wolves' agile bodies they managed to find a way. Even if the Sun People had managed to see them, they would not have been able to follow. Still, Netya hoped they had escaped their pursuers' notice, for she had no intention of turning back now. They had already been carried so far from home; they could afford to go a little farther. Adel needed them.
First they had to regain their strength, so they set about hunting as they followed the riverbank at a distance. Compared to snatching fish from the river with their bare hands it seemed almost trivial to sniff out a few forest rodents in the undergrowth. After crunching down several hearty mouthfuls apiece they found a patch of thick ferns to curl up in. There they let their exhaustion take hold, making up for many restless days and nights as they slipped into a long and deep sleep.
By the time Netya awoke it was near sunset the following day. She had only a moment to enjoy the peace of the shade and the lazy dance of the summer flies before remembering where she was. Waking Kale up with a tug at his scruff, she led them back to the riverbank and hurried onward. They'd needed their sleep, but the canoes would be almost a full day ahead by now. She hoped their wolves would be fast enough to catch up.
They did not see the canoes that night, nor the next, but just as Netya was beginning to lose hope they stumbled upon something quite unexpected. It began with the sight of bushes that had been cleared by hand, then tree stumps marked with the blows of stone axes. The scent of Sun People followed soon after, and Netya and Kale began to proceed with caution. The riverbank itself seemed mostly untouched, but the farther they went the more signs of life they saw around them. There was a fishing net trailing from an overhanging branch on the opposite side of the river. The ashes of an old fire near the roots of a tree. Stone fragments that had been struck loose by a craftsman's hammer, and a pile of nut shells where someone had eaten a meal.
When the sound of distant voices reached them through the trees Netya reverted from the shape of her wolf and tugged on Kale's fur till he did the same.
“I think there's a village up ahead,” she whispered. “Do you think this is where the Sun People stopped?”
“They may have stopped, but they'll soon carry on. They'll keep on going until they reach the plains.”
“How many more days do you think that may be?”
Kale shrugged. “My pilgrimage never got this far. The journey into your lands took close to half a season, maybe more, but they always said the path home would be much quicker. Now I can see why. This river must flow all the way back into the heartland plains.”
“We should try and sneak past without using our wolves,” Netya said, sounding more confident than she felt. “They might let travellers pass on by if they see us. They won't do the same for Moon People.”
“What if the shaman is there and he recognises us?”
“Then we shall have to keep our distance.”
Straightening up, Netya took a tentative step away from the riverbank and out into the more exposed area of the woodland. Much to the relief of her bare feet, she found well-trod pathways between the trees that had been kept clear of thorns and rocks. It reminded her of the path she used to walk up to the livestock field near her own village, and her heart ached with the weight of memory once again.
They did not stick to any one path for too long, skirting around to the north before heading southeast again in the direction of the river. Great swathes of forest had been cleared here, and Netya found herself wondering what kind of a village could possibly have use of so much lumber. Perhaps the other forest villages were much bigger than hers had been, but the threads of smoke she saw rising in the distance did not seem numerous enough to have come from a particularly large settlement. A hand-made copse of trees, these ones left untouched by the axes, shielded the village from view, but as Netya and Kale skirted around it they spied an opening on the eastern side. Despite the danger, Netya found herself creeping closer until she was almost standing in plain view.
“I came from a place very much like this,” she said softly. A single great hall stood alongside the river, forming the backbone of a semicircle of houses that curved out from either end to create a snug cup against the riverbank. Log walls, log roofs, and light thatching lent the buildings the distinctive character of the forest people.
“They make everything out of wood,” Kale mused. “I suppose you would, with so much of it around you. Only our great hall used beams like that. Most of the people in my village made their homes from earth and clay.”
Netya realised there were tears in her eyes. She said, “I think I remember the men of my village speaking of a place like this. A river village, maybe a day's travel to the northeast.”
Kale regarded her in silence for a moment before speaking. “If I had a chance to revisit my people, I would.”
Netya wiped a hand over her eyes and shook her head. “They'd not welcome me.”
“What if I went instead? I could say I was a traveller. I might be able to bring back word of your family.”
It was tempting. So tempting that Netya almost said yes without thinking. She'd set this part of herself aside and forgotten it, never imagining she might be within a day's travel of her home ever again. Letting go was easy when there were mountains and plains and rivers standing between her and the past. She'd been able to come to terms with that. One thing she had never prepared herself for, however, was the possibility of seeing it all again with her own eyes.
“No,” she said, wishing she had her staff with her. Without anything to grip for strength, she dug her fingernails into her palms. “We are here for Adel. We can't waste time anywhere else.”
“And what if we find her? We'll have to travel back through this forest eventually.” He gripped her arm and gave her a sincere look. “Netya, if we keep on following this river and it leads us back to my home, I am going to find my family. Whatever I end up telling them, whatever they think of me, I must do it. I never thought I would be given this chance. I cannot waste it.”
She nodded in understanding. “If that is what you must do.”
“And you? If we find Adel and come back this way, what then?”
“I do not know.”
Kale's brow furrowed, but he left it at that. It was not something worth dwelling on, Netya told herself, much like the lives that had been lost back when this terrible journey started. She would shoulder those burdens later, when the time was right. They would only hobble her if she tried to carry them now.
In heed of her own advice she tore her gaze away from the village, and in doing so she found herself looking more closely at the river that ran past it. A great many logs bobbed at the edge of the water, and as she watched she saw men stacking more of them at the water's edge. One figure hopped aboard a raft and pushed himself away from the shore with a long pole, then began snagging more logs to lash to the ends of his floating platform. After a while he whistled to his companions on the shore, then a second man leaped aboard the raft with a sack over his shoulder, and the pair waved farewell to their friends as they began to drift away downstream.
“Look!” Kale whispered sharply, pointing to the river a short distance back from where Netya had been looking. Now that the raftsmen were gone they could see that not all the floating objects were logs. Tethered to the shore near the centre of the village, several familiar canoes b
obbed with the gentle motion of the current.
“They did stop here,” Netya said. “Someone's still in that one! Can you see?”
Kale nodded, his face lighting up with emotion. “It's Kiren! Look at her hair.”
Netya shielded her brow from the sun and squinted. Kale had better eyes than her, but after a moment she felt sure that he was right. A dark-haired figure in one of the canoes sat opposite a shorter woman with dirty blonde locks falling about her shoulders. So the Sun People had taken her apprentice too. She did not know whether to feel relieved that Kiren was alive or dismayed that she had been taken captive.
“If anyone can think of a way to slip free it's Kiren,” Kale said. “She managed it once before.”
“How did you do it then?”
The young man's face fell. “We used Ilen Ra's fire magic against him... and there were other Moon People too. And no canoes or water. And Kiren was free to walk about.”
“If we are patient we will find our chance. They can't be moving very fast any more. Now that they are far from our lands they will probably stop ashore at night to rest.”
“What if we wait till nightfall and swim up to the side of the canoe? Kiren and Adel must be bound... Why do you suppose they haven't taken the shapes of their wolves and slipped free?”
“Spirits know,” Netya said. “Adel must have a reason. Perhaps she is waiting for the right moment.”
Unfortunately for the pair of them they had little time to plan. They had only gotten as far as determining that they would need to make or steal a knife and then find a way to cross the river, at which point the Sun People began returning to their canoes. After saying their farewells to the villagers they cast off the ropes and paddled out to the centre of the river, joined this time by another pair of raftsmen riding a dozen canoe-sized logs.
“Come on,” Netya said, tugging Kale back into the forest. “If we run ahead we can rest and catch up with them again tomorrow.”
Despite the sinking feeling in her stomach, part of her was relieved to be leaving the village behind them. Relieved, and saddened. It had been too much of a reminder. Too much of a jolt to the memories she'd set to rest long ago. Taking the shape of her wolf helped dissuade any tears from falling, but for the rest of the day she ran with a stony weight in her belly.
After another day in the forest the trees thinned. When they emerged from the undergrowth it was to the sight of more rolling plains, but these were nothing like the lands they had passed through before. Here the sun-browned grass was interrupted by ribbons of foot-worn earth. The river forked, spread, and became a delta of channels that flowed in strangely uniform patterns through fields of turned earth and lush greenery. Shapes Netya had first taken for rocks assumed the angles of great houses as they drew closer, halls twice the size of the one they had seen in the river village. Threads of smoke wound their way up from a dozen different settlements that spread out from the river as it continued its path south and east.
As Netya stood up to survey the plains she felt Kale's hand on her shoulder.
“I think we are here,” he said. “These are the lands of the Dawn King.”
—11—
Caspian and Fern
By the time they reached the mountains they realised that Orec and the others would not be able to follow them. Caspian and Fern could expect no help from their packmates even if they did somehow manage to catch up, for the path onward could not be taken by wolves, only canoes. Caspian had already begun to regret their decision to make the journey on foot, for the Sun People moved so quickly downriver that the two wolves barely had time to sleep and hunt before having to race after them the next day. They managed to keep their quarry in sight all the way to the mountains, though that was more by virtue of the open grassland than anything else. Had the terrain been rough they would have quickly fallen behind.
When they reached the tunnel they were faced with a hard decision. Turn back, or try to salvage one of the broken canoes caught up on the rocks downriver. It was clear that the rough waters had taken a heavy toll on Liliac's flotilla, leaving a trail of splintered wood and at least one floating corpse in their wake. Seeing the body chilled Caspian as he imagined Netya having suffered a similar fate, but he was not yet willing to accept that possibility. They had come across no sign of Netya or Kale on their journey, and that meant they were either dead or in the hands of the Sun People. Until they caught up with Liliac they could not know for certain, and so Caspian had decided to push away his darker thoughts. Determined though he was, the floating body was a brutal reminder of how unforgiving the river could be.
Using a hastily fashioned grass rope weighted down with a rock, they snagged one of the canoes that was threatening to tip over into a second stretch of rapids where the river forked. They drew it in to land and found the vessel half-full of rocks, most of them streaked through with the glint of raw metal. Tipping out the ore on the riverbank, they found a pair of leafy branches to use as paddles and began their tenuous journey into the mountain. With no torches they had to rely on the night eyes of Fern's wolf to guide them, but even those became useless once the darkness swallowed them up. At that point even Caspian's resolve wavered, and he would have turned back had he been able, but there was no fighting the pull of the current. The pair of them navigated the underground river by sound alone, focusing on the task ahead of them to stave off their fears. Caspian's determination to find Netya carried him through the ordeal, and he whispered words of encouragement to Fern as much for his own benefit as for hers. He'd fought alphas for the sake of his love, but no one could fight this endless darkness beneath the mountain.
When they emerged into the open air more than a day later they paddled their canoe ashore as quickly as they could, sensing that the current was quickening once again. No sooner were they back on dry ground than they collapsed in each other's arms, exhaustion and relief sapping the last of their strength.
“They must be so far ahead now,” Fern said wearily. “Do you think we will ever catch up to them?”
“We have to try, even if it means running day and night.”
“I can do that. I'd rather run till I die than go through that tunnel again.”
Caspian nodded, squeezing Fern tight and kissing the top of her head. They'd shared more intimate embraces than this in the past, Netya alongside them, but Caspian felt no desire for his companion that evening. All the pair of them needed was comfort and the closeness of a friend to remind them that they were still alive, and warm, and determined.
“Do you recognise these plains?” he said. “We're back in our old home.”
Fern looked up and surveyed the land around them. “We could find Khelt again. Orec might not be able to help us, but he would. Especially for Netya.”
“But not for Adel.” Caspian shook his head. “There's no point anyway. Khelt's new den is far to the south. It would take us days to reach him, then we'd stand no chance of catching up.”
“Still just the two of us, then.”
Caspian smiled. He had to take his mirth where he could on this journey, for otherwise he would lose his mind.
“No Sun People could hope to stand against us.”
They considered taking the canoe again the next day, but neither of them fancied it after the ordeal of the tunnel. Only the gentleness of the water had allowed them to guide it with any degree of proficiency, and even then their inexperienced touch had made it wobble and spin when the current grew fast. It seemed a wise choice to leave the canoe behind, for Caspian had realised how ineffective their branch paddles were against the current, and he suspected they would be swept away by the river once it began to quicken again.
They continued their journey on foot, racing as fast as they could across the open plains in the hope of catching up to their quarry. It was a faintly familiar run for both of them, though they had only crossed these lands a few times on their great hunts with Khelt's pack. Caspian recognised the places where the river could be forded, t
hough the water seemed to have risen over those spots in recent years. One ford in particular stuck painfully in his memory when he remembered dragging an unconscious Netya through it on his way north to find the Sun People who might save her life.
They followed the southern bank, running for a few more days before they caught sight of the canoes again. The cluster of black spots swam along the river like a flock of waterfowl right on the edge of the eastern forests. It looked like they had slowed to prepare for the nighttime journey through the trees.
Caspian and Fern paced themselves from then on, knowing that they were about to venture into the lands of the Sun People. The North People, as they had always called them, might still be friendly to their kind, but this part of the forest was a little too far east to be part of their territory. A subtle tension gripped the two wolves as they stalked into the trees, remembering the nocturnal raids they had made and the family they had lost in this forest.
Their passage went unnoticed, however, and over the next few days the only Sun People they came across were the inhabitants of a small village on the opposite side of the river. They crept close at night to watch from the far bank, but none of the figures in the distance looked familiar to them, and there were no canoes on the shore. The pair moved swiftly on, putting as much distance between themselves and the village as they could before stopping to rest.
Exertion began to take its toll as they approached the eastern edge of the forest. They were having to sleep in turns now that there were Sun People abroad, and unless they slowed their pace that meant half as much rest for both of them. The dense undergrowth was a constant hindrance, but despite everything they finally managed to catch sight of Liliac's group again just as they were emerging from the forest. The shaman seemed to be slowing his breakneck pace at long last, which meant he was probably stopping ashore at night. With a little luck they might be able to sneak up on him while his people slept.