by Claudia King
All other thoughts fled Kiren's mind as she followed her mentor up and down the valley. Whenever Netya happened upon a new plant she taught her apprentice something about it, demonstrating through touch and taste whenever she could rather than relying on dry recital alone. Before she knew it the sun had already started to go down, casting the grass around them in shades of warm honey.
“The moths will soon go to sleep for the cold seasons, but we may be able to catch a few tonight if we are lucky,” Netya said excitedly. Even more than Kiren, she seemed both elated and engrossed in her apprentice's newfound enthusiasm. “Do you know how to catch moths?”
Kiren shook her head.
“All you need is a bright fire and something for them to perch on. The light calls to them just as it does to us. They have innocent spirits, not fearful like the larger animals.” Netya hurried them back to the mentor's hollow and began digging around in the dim enclosure before the last of the light faded.
Kiren's eyes fell to a large male footprint in the dirt outside, and her heart jolted suddenly.
Pera. Vaya's message.
She looked up, searching for the dipping sun. It had already dropped out of sight. How long would Vaya be able to wait for her? What if she was caught lurking around the witches' valley? Twin hands of guilt tugged Kiren in opposite directions. Her friend was probably there right now waiting at the edge of the forest. But here was Netya, still chattering away about moths with such enthusiasm that she sounded like an eager young apprentice herself. How disappointed she would be if Kiren ran off again now.
The young woman glanced between her mentor and the darkening sky, her skin prickling with anxious sweat. Netya would never allow her to go if she told the truth. If word got back to the den mother Vaya would be punished. It would be better for everyone if they thought Kiren had simply grown bored and abandoned her lesson.
She gave Netya's back an apologetic look. She had almost been ready to start thinking of the woman as a friend. But her true friend was out there waiting for her, and Vaya was more important than catching moths.
While Netya continued to talk Kiren stepped silently backwards, slipped into the shape of her wolf, and crept off into the forest.
The light was fading fast by the time Kiren emerged from the trees as the western end of the valley. She had never been this far before. The twin ridges sloped abruptly downward, their chalky rocks crumbling into the shrubland just beyond where the forest ended. She cast her eyes to the end of the southern ridge, squinting through the gloom. To her dismay, she saw nothing. Vaya had already been and gone.
She followed her wolf's nose through the undergrowth, searching for any hint of her friend's scent. Perhaps if it was still fresh she could catch up with her.
Just as she picked up the musk of wolf near the edge of a white boulder, a shadow fell across her. She jumped backward at the last moment, just barely avoiding Vaya's paws as her friend pounced. Laughing, the huntress reverted from the shape of her wolf and leant back against the rock.
“You haven't gone soft living with the witches. Good.”
Kiren was too relieved to be angry at her friend for startling her. Before she could think of doing anything else she abandoned her furred form and threw her arms around Vaya, embracing her tightly. After a moment of resistance Vaya's posture softened, and she returned the hug with a firm back-slapping.
“You didn't believe what they said about me, then?” the huntress asked, her tone suddenly serious.
Kiren released her and took a step back. “I don't believe you are a coward or a traitor.”
“Well, perhaps I was.” Vaya's lip curled in anger. “My reasons may have been good, but I dishonoured myself. You still think I am worthy of your friendship?”
“The woman who brought me here earned my friendship a dozen times over. I am so sorry for what has happened.”
Vaya shook her head. “It is the witch Adel's fault, not yours. She is the one who keeps me here against my will.”
“What of Orec's pack? Do they treat you well?”
“I am a shamed huntress. They treat me as you would expect.”
“Have they hurt you?”
That made Vaya smile. “It would not go well for them if they tried. The alpha forbids them from fighting, so I cannot prove myself through a challenge. He fears that I would win their respect.”
“I wish I could do something to help you. Perhaps I could speak with the den mother.”
“That is the way of seers, not warriors,” Vaya growled. “I have another way of proving myself, that is why I told the boy to bring you here.”
“His name is Pera. Don't frighten him too much. He has been a friend to me.”
The huntress voiced a begrudging grunt of acknowledgement. “There is to be a hunt soon, on the first day of the rains. Whoever claims the hunter's prize shall earn themselves great honour among Orec's clan. I have heard of a white buck who wanders a valley west of here. A worthy trophy that none have ever claimed.”
“Will you hunt with the others?”
“No, alone. Orec's clan seek only the greatest of beasts. That is why this hunt carries such prestige.”
Kiren glanced back into the forest with a rueful smile. “I suppose none of them have ever been brave enough to challenge Great Rook.”
“Who is that?”
“An old bear in the north part of the forest. He almost swiped my paw off when I crossed his path. I tell you, there can't be a beast larger and more frightening in all the land.”
Vaya followed her gaze into the forest. “Show me.”
The sincerity in the huntress's tone made Kiren falter. “Vaya, I only spoke in jest. You cannot fight a bear.”
“But if I could, such a victory would never be forgotten.”
Kiren rolled her eyes. “Some things can only ever happen in tales. Now tell me more about this buck. How can I help you catch him?”
Vaya tore her eyes away from the forest, still looking a little disappointed. “It is not the buck I need help with, it is my fellow hunters. They have a bow like yours—weapons of the Sun People. I'd not dirty my hands with such tools, but there may be another way to even the advantage. I need you to bring me sleeping herbs from the seers. Strong ones. They have a leaf that is eaten with food. Do you know the one I mean?”
Kiren pondered for a moment before giving an uncertain nod. She thought she remembered seeing a fresh-looking leaf among the plants she had been memorising. Had that been the one Netya mentioned was good for sleeping? Or was that the weed with the thick stalks...
“A seer named Sephonie brought it to Orec's camp last night,” Vaya said. “Do you know her?”
“Yes, as much as I wish I did not.”
“Ask her for it if you must. I will use it to make my rivals sleep through the day of the hunt, but we must be quick. Can you meet me here again tomorrow with the herb?”
“Perhaps, but—” Kiren's thoughts raced. Vaya was putting herself in danger yet again. What if they caught her slipping a sleeping leaf into someone's food? “Were you not exiled from Adel's clan for trying to poison her?”
Anger flashed across the huntress's face. “What of it?”
“If they know you have done this before...”
“A sleeping herb is no poison! I spoke to the seer, I made sure it would do no harm. Youngsters play worse tricks on one another.”
“I do not think the witches will see it that way if you are caught. I promised Adel you had changed.”
Vaya gripped her by the wrists. “I must win this hunt, Kiren. My honour—I am nothing to these people! The only way they will ever respect me is if I can best them. It must be now. The next great hunt will not be until the end of winter.”
Kiren's brow creased with concern. Honour was more important to Vaya than life and death. It was what had compelled her to endure this shameful half-captivity, after all. Could she last a whole winter like this, or would she slip back into the same dire place she had been in the last time
they were captured?
“What if you could slay Great Rook?” Kiren said at last.
“It was a foolish thought, as you said. Even I know a wolf is no match for a bear.”
“Not a bear with a clear eye and keen senses, maybe, but what if we could cloud his mind?”
Vaya gave her a quizzical look. “You have some magic that can do this?”
“You spoke of using sleeping herbs on your rivals. I have heard the seers talk about bringing offerings for Great Rook—fresh meat laced with magic to make him docile. Whenever they need to linger in his part of the forest, they make sure his appetite is sated and he is sleepy in his den.”
“There is no honour in killing a sleeping bear.”
Kiren shook her head. “I do not think even the strongest herbs could put Rook to sleep. He would still be a worthy foe, but not an impossible one. Let us use the witches' magic on your prey, not your rivals.”
Vaya still seemed hesitant, but Kiren saw the hungry glimmer in the huntress's eyes when she gazed off into the forest. A bear was prey worthy of an alpha. No one ever slew a fully grown one without aid, least of all a monster like Great Rook.
“On the first day of the rains,” the huntress said at last, “leave the meat for Rook at dawn. Somewhere dry, where he can smell it. I will be there waiting.”
“I know I cannot change your mind, but please be careful, Vaya. Don't throw your life away for your honour.” It seemed a pointless plea, but she hoped some part of it got through to her friend.
Instead of responding Vaya tensed sharply. Kiren caught a glimmer of movement in the corner of her eye, spinning around to look at whatever had caught the huntress's attention. The last thing either of them needed was to be caught out here. Perhaps it was just an animal, or Wren and Pera out wandering again.
The deerskin gown whispering over the grass did not belong to either of Kiren's friends. Dark hair swirling in the breeze, Sister Netya stepped out of the forest with her staff held at her side. For a moment her concerned expression softened when she saw her apprentice, only to pale in shock when she realised who was standing next to her.
Face to face with her old rival for the first time in six long years, Vaya bared her teeth and lunged.
—10—
The Witch and the Warrior
Before the snarling huntress could reach her Netya yanked the heron skull from the head of her staff, snapping the thin cords that held it in place and tossing the spirit totem aside. Razor-sharp flint glinted at the end of the pole, its decorative blue feathers swirling as she brought the spear level with her foe. Once wielded by her father, the weapon had tasted the blood of many Moon People in its life, but for five peaceful years it had gone unused. Had Netya not been acting on instinct, she would have felt ashamed by how readily she bared its point once more.
“I am not your enemy, Vaya!” she yelled. The huntress circled around her, looking mere moments away from taking her feral form.
“You will always be my enemy, Sun Wolf. Look at you clutching that stick. You are not one of us.”
“This pack is my family now, not yours. You drove yourself away by choice.”
“You tricked me!” Vaya spat. “A choice between dishonour and exile is no choice at all, not that a coward like you would understand. Let this be it—our true challenge! You have a wolf of your own now, yes? Fight me, and let us see once and for all who the spirits favour!”
Kiren stepped forward, trying to put herself between the two of them, but Vaya kept dodging to the side, menacing Netya a hand's breadth from the tip of her spear.
“There's no need, Vaya!” Kiren insisted. “Win your honour through the hunt, not like this!”
Vaya shook her head, every movement bristling with feral energy. “This is a different honour I seek to claim today. The honour of my spirit against hers.”
“Listen to your friend,” Netya said, trying to keep her steps smooth and her breathing calm. She could feel the memories of the cold water creeping up her spine, threatening to freeze her heart. “I would not fight you before. I will not fight you now.”
“Your weapon says otherwise.”
Vaya was not going to back down. She exuded the same vicious hatred for Netya's kind she had borne all those years ago. Nothing Netya could say would make her listen.
It was Kiren's words, instead, that held the answer.
“She is my mentor, Vaya.”
The huntress paused long enough for Kiren to get in front of her. The young woman grabbed her hands and forced them to lock eyes.
“She is my mentor,” Kiren repeated. “I do not want you to hurt her.”
“She..?” Vaya cringed away, yanking herself free and turning her back on them. “Of all of them, why her?! Witches, cursed witches and their tricks!” She roared in anger, her voice echoing off the valley slopes. An accusatory finger lashed out at Netya when she turned back around. “You deserve better than that. What has she been telling you? Turning you against me, is she? All part of the den mother's plan, I know it!”
“There is no plan, Vaya,” Netya said firmly. She remembered the huntress's rage now. The way her emotions and pride got the best of her. More than that, there was a strange isolation to Vaya that set her apart from others. A yearning for acceptance that manifested itself in anger rather than sorrow. Netya had sensed the first hint of it back when she was still an apprentice, but now that she was older it seemed clear as day. The threat of stealing Kiren away from her hurt as much as any slight to her honour.
“You witches are full of schemes and lies,” Vaya said. “Why is there never any purity to you? No simple courage and truthfulness?!”
Netya ignored her question, searching for calm amid her racing thoughts. She had bested Vaya without the need for violence once before. Lowering the tip of her spear, she said, “Kiren told me you had changed; that you were a loyal and honourable friend. Would you make her a liar?”
“You have no right to question my loyalty!”
“But I do,” Kiren interjected, giving her a pleading look. “You said you would do as Adel asked, Vaya, for me. For my mother.”
Netya felt a shimmer of pride in her apprentice as Vaya turned away again, swiping at the grass in anger. She would not have thought Kiren capable of such tact.
“You are doing exactly what they want of you, Kiren,” Vaya said.
“We are not fighting enemies in the wild any more. We must live by the witches' rules.”
The huntress shook her head. “It is wrong,” she muttered, fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. With one more angry swipe she took the shape of her wolf, throwing her head back and loosing a howl to the darkening sky.
For a moment Netya thought Vaya was about to lunge at her, but the huntress did not move. She lifted her spear, put her hand on Kiren's shoulder, and tugged her gently back toward the forest. Her fingers only trembled a little.
“Come, Kiren. You should not be out here.”
The girl turned back around, eyes narrow and a hiss on her breath. “Shouldn't I be? Why can I not spend time with my own friend? Why did you have to follow me?”
Netya gave a faint shake of her head, all the while keeping one eye on Vaya. “Now is not the time.”
To her relief, Kiren followed without further complaint. Netya paused only to retrieve her heron skull as they slipped back into the woods. Vaya did not pursue them, yet all the way Netya kept glancing behind her, spear held ready in case she saw the huntress's feral eyes looming out of the shadows. This day had gone so terribly wrong. At last she had been making progress with her apprentice. Her many forays into the spirit world had borne fruit, only for Vaya to dash it all away again.
She could sense the hostility radiating from Kiren. The young woman was silent all the way back, walking just far enough ahead to avoid conversation. Netya's heart told her to give her apprentice the space she needed, but Adel's spectre loomed large upon her shoulder, compelling her to berate, punish, and remind Kiren of her place.
She had run away from her duties yet again, to meet a woman Adel had expressly forbidden from entering the valley. As the den mother's most trusted seer, Netya could not allow such a transgression to slide.
As they emerged from the forest she pressed the heron skull back over the tip of her spear, drawing strength from her spirit totem. Planting her feet, she slammed the butt of the wooden pole against a rock. Kiren's step faltered.
“I thought you were ready to learn,” Netya said.
“I am.”
“Turn around and look at me.”
With heavy feet, Kiren obeyed.
“Why did you run off like that? Did you plan this with her?”
“You would not have let me go if I asked.”
“Is it any wonder, if this is the way you act? How am I to trust you with anything if you simply do as your heart wills and disregard everything I expect of you?”
The darkness had deepened enough that Kiren's face was hidden in shadow.
“Would you obey someone who kept your friend captive and threatened her life?” the girl said. “Vaya may have been wrong to challenge you like that, but do not pretend you are any better. At least her hatred for you is honest.”
“I do not hate Vaya.”
“Your den mother does, and you follow her.”
Netya sighed in frustration. How could she explain to this hotheaded girl that the leadership of a pack was not so simple? That Adel chose the small, indirect cruelties over the savagery of people like Vaya, who knew only how to resolve their conflicts through violence. This way was the lesser of two evils, was it not?
In the back of her mind, a quiet voice reminded her that those were Adel's words, not her own.
“Den Mother Adel is not one to easily forgive slights against her,” Netya said, “but she has given Vaya a chance to make amends. I know it must be hard for you to understand, but your friend was not a good person when we knew her.”
“Neither is Adel. A good person would have let Vaya go. The worst evil I know is to turn someone's heart against them.” She looked down, her voice cracking with emotion. When she continued to speak Netya could hear the tears in her voice. “And you made me do that to Vaya, just like Adel did. She cannot say no to her honour. It is like... pinning her with a spear and twisting until she does as you say!”