Daughter of the Moon (The Moon People, Book Two) Read online

  At first her wanderings had been absent, but the more Netya began to think, the more purposeful her exploration became. Wrangling her excitable wolf before the beast grew distracted by the idea, she forced herself to revert and stand back up on two legs. An eager smile lit her lips as she discovered the main river that fed the pool, and then two more outlets that carried its water away. Moving water meant more fresh fish, and an easy means of disposing of their waste. Over the past several days they had come across a number of caves in the rocky land, but none of them had been suited to the pack's needs. Thanks to Wren, they had found an ample supply of food and water. Now all they needed was a shelter nearby.

  Clambering down the western ridge, Netya began searching the rock face for any crannies that might be repurposed to their needs. The rough stone beneath her feet was brittle and loose, but there were smoother rocks farther below that looked to have been polished smooth by running water at some point in the distant past. Examining a frozen stream that had spilled down the rocks before winter turned it to ice, she came to the conclusion that the pool had once fed a waterfall leading to a third small river, before debris at the top of the ridge had clogged the flow and reduced it to a trickle.

  Netya's growing excitement quickened her steps as she made out several dark openings in the rocks below. Once she dropped down into the old riverbed she took the shape of her wolf again, sniffing for the scents of any other animals that might have made their dens nearby. Curiously enough, she found none. Perhaps her untrained nose was missing something, or maybe the chill of winter had masked smells that would have been rich and obvious in the summer. The fur at the back of her neck prickled slightly, but the twinge of apprehension was not enough to quell her eagerness.

  The first few nooks she poked her nose into were too small, but they were weathered and sturdy. The riverbed had carved out a small overhang under the rocks on either side, and it was beneath this lip that Netya's sensitive ears picked out the echo of an empty space nearby. It was something she would never have recognised as a woman, but as a wolf it grabbed hold of her and refused to let go. She barked, listening to the way the sound found its way back to her ears, and followed in the direction that seemed to echo with that wide, hollow quality.

  A broad opening loomed between the rocks, slanting down into pitch blackness. It was so close to the base of the frozen waterfall that she had missed it on her initial descent. The keen eyes of her wolf penetrated the darkness better than usual, but it was still impossible to tell what lay within. She snuffled her way around the edge of the opening, feeling the prickle of agitation return as her nose once again picked up nothing but the distant traces of water and moss. For a moment she considered climbing back up to find Wren, but the inquisitiveness of her wolf had taken full hold. Ignoring the agitation of her more mindful side, she placed her paws at the entrance of the opening and began to carefully shuffle down into the darkness.

  The rock beneath her was smooth with frost, cold and hard and threatening, but it was the potential of a sudden drop that concerned her more. She barked again, hearing her voice echo back from all around. Without understanding how, the quality of the sound seemed to tell her that it was safe to go forward.

  Within a few paces her paws touched frozen earth, and the scent of old moss grew stronger. Using her ears and her sense of smell to guide her, she made her way around the chamber until she had followed the cave wall back to where she started. It was not as big as the caves back at the outcrop, but it was large enough to house a few dozen bodies. Once again Netya's tingle of unease returned. Why had no other animals made their dens here? It was sheltered, safe, and fresh water ran within a few paces of the entrance. Had the spirits finally smiled upon them after weeks of fruitless travelling?

  After sniffing around the cave one last time, Netya climbed back up the tunnel and scaled the ridge to find Wren. A gift from the spirits or not, it would be Adel's choice to decide whether the den she had found would be suitable for seeing them through the winter.

  The rest of the group waited anxiously behind the den mother as she looked over the cave's entrance in silence, weighing their options. She glanced up at the frozen waterfall, then snapped her fingers and beckoned Netya over. "You checked properly? There were no scents of wild animals inside?"

  "No, Den Mother. It may be a little damp, and I do not think there are smoke vents, but it seems safe."

  "If the roof slopes up to the entrance here we may not need vents," Caspian said, gesturing to the dark opening. "I am sure we can manage to hold our breath when we are coming and going."

  Adel grunted and bobbed her head in what Netya could only assume was an expression of approval. "You did well. This may suit our needs for the winter."

  "It was Wren who spotted the fish in the pool. If not for her, I would never have thought to look for caves nearby," Netya said.

  Adel looked to the young girl, whose eyes immediately fell as the imposing gaze of the den mother settled upon her. Her response reminded Netya of how she herself had felt when she first met her mentor.

  "Then you did well also, Wren," Adel said. "You are a keen young woman. Perhaps in the years to come you will prove yourself worthy of a seer's wisdom."

  The girl flushed, trying to suppress the obvious swell of pride rising within her. Netya held back a smile of her own. Even though the majority of their number were seers, it was still the greatest status a woman could hope to attain among their people. Most did not dare to presume that it would ever be their calling.

  Caspian knelt by the cave's entrance and dug out the small metal tool he often used for wood burning from his travelling bundle. Using a nodule of pyrite against the edge, he struck a few sparks into the darkness, illuminating the tunnel for a brief instant in a flash of orange.

  "It looks good," he said, turning to look up the ridge with a sigh of pleasure. "If I can make a line I can fish that pool properly. I didn't know how much I'd missed it."

  "Do not grow too attached to those dreams of fishing. We do yet know whether this place is safe." Adel turned to the group. "Fern, Lyucia, take two others and begin scouting the land around this den. Check in every direction, and be thorough. If there are any traces of other wolves nearby, I must know."

  Fern responded with a bow of her head. "Yes, Den Mother. It may take some time, perhaps a few days to be sure."

  "If the spirits smile on us we will have no cause to leave. Take the time you need, but be back before nightfall."

  "Our wolves would be more agreeable to scouting at night," Lyucia said.

  "As would the scouts of our enemies. Now is not the time to indulge your need to dance under the moon. We must be careful, and we must be cunning." Adel gestured for them to go before Lyucia could protest further. "Those of you who think you can catch fish, go with Wren and find us tomorrow's meal in that pool. The rest can prepare our camp here."

  As the group dispersed to carry out Adel's instructions, Caspian kindled a small fire and began whittling a pine branch to his needs. He split one end directly downwards several times, then searched the nearby trees until he found one that had spilled stiff globs of resin down its trunk. Smearing the split end of his branch with a generous amount of the tacky fluid, he brought it back to the fire and held the tip to the flames until it caught alight. Torch in hand, he slid down into the cave with Adel and Netya following behind him.

  Just as Netya had gathered from her earlier exploration, it was a damp and mossy chamber. Tendrils of foliage dangled from the roof, and a loamy carpet of earth covered the rocks beneath their feet. It was not elegant, but it was exactly what they needed.

  Adel smiled and squeezed Netya's shoulder as she looked around the cave, nodding with approval. "My girl, I think you may have found us our new home."

  —5—

  Cruel Tides

  It was amid an atmosphere of tense excitement that the pack awaited the return of Fern and the other scouts during the next few days. Everything about their new den
seemed a gift from the spirits. There was dry wood in abundance nearby, fresh water from the pool, fish to be caught to see them through winter, and the promise of fruit and edible plants once warmer weather arrived. The only thing that remained in question was the safety of the land nearby.

  Night by night, however, the scouts returned with nothing to report but more quiet woodland in every direction. Not a single person nor wolf was sighted anywhere near the new den, and after three days Netya's pack-sisters were already talking of how they might cultivate their seer's herbs in the well-irrigated ground near the outlets of the pool. It was difficult for her not to get caught up in their enthusiasm. Perhaps soon she could return to her training in the ways of the spirits, and learn to master the impulses of her wolf without the necessities of survival hounding her thoughts at every moment.

  Many of the special plants the seers used for healing and spirit rituals did not grow in this land, but they had been careful to preserve the seeds they needed to regrow them when they left their home. With time and dedication, they could rebuild what had been left behind.

  Even Adel seemed lighter in her step as she led the others in cleaning out the interior of the cave and making storage space for their supplies. For the first time in many weeks, the pack slept warmly every night, huddled together around the embers of their fire while the cave walls kept out the howling winter winds.

  There was little room for privacy within the cave, and Netya had no wish to remind the others of what they had sacrificed to follow Adel, so she and Caspian slipped away into the woods whenever they desired intimacy together. There were no more sunny days to make their lovemaking long and comfortable, but with a fire and a hide awning to shelter them they were at least able to satisfy their desires for a few precious moments every day.

  Netya had started taking the herbs that would prevent her body from accepting a man's seed again. Her supply of them was limited now, but until the safety of their small pack was assured, she had no desire to contend with the burdens of motherhood alongside everything else. The thought of bearing Caspian's child warmed her, but it was not something she could dedicate herself to yet. Who knew, perhaps the spirits would take matters into their own hands and gift her with a son or daughter regardless of the warding effects of the herbs.

  She climbed the ridge to await Fern one evening, planning to fish for a short while with her spear while she waited. It was easier to focus without the urges of her wolf distracting her, and she still wanted to remain proficient with the weapon despite now having a set of teeth and claws that could serve her just as well.

  She enjoyed the climb up and down the ridge. It helped to temper her travel-hardened muscles every day, keeping her strong without forcing her to go out of her way to exercise. A year ago she had been a skinny wisp of a thing, pale-skinned and fragile. Now her body was bronzed from the sun, her small frame toned with subtle definition. She could walk all day long without succumbing to exhaustion, run faster, and work harder.

  The large pool was calm and soothing at sunset, ripples lapping out gently from the centre to wash over the crust of ice that was rapidly encroaching from the edges. It was strange that it had taken so long to freeze over completely, almost as if new water was constantly rushing up around the middle.

  Perching on one of the rocks near the shore, Netya broke apart the ice that had formed over the nearby fishing hole with the butt of her spear, and settled down to wait. The sharp flint tip of her weapon hovered over the water, held tense and ready to thrust. The red feathers adorning the crosspiece of the shaft still reminded her of the father who had once wielded the same blade. Netya's spear was the only part of that life she had left.

  She closed her eyes, breathing deep of the cold evening air as a wave of emotion tugged at her chest. It still hurt to remember, and she hoped it always would. She did not want the memories of her people to shrink and crumble until they were forgotten. Even if she never saw them again, their spirit would live on in her. In her children.

  That thought soothed the aching of her heart just a little, and she opened her eyes to focus on the water again. A fat fish was hovering just below the surface, tail swaying idly as it drifted. Netya tensed, drawing back her spear a few inches as she prepared the strike. Perhaps this time she would finally catch something worth eating.

  The water rippled suddenly, a strange creaking noise disturbing the quiet air behind her. A sigh of frustration left her lips as the fish darted away before she could lunge. Squinting in the direction of the ridge, she tried to make out the source of the disturbance. It had not sounded like anything she was familiar with. Almost like the straining of an old tree, or the squeak of wet fingertips against a smooth surface, only deeper.

  Before she could question the odd sound any further, the bark of a wolf sounded from the far side of the pool. Netya smiled, waving her spear above her head as Fern and the others appeared from the trees and bounded toward her along the bank. She hopped back to the shore, running to meet them as they reverted from the shapes of their wolves.

  "Did you find anything?" she asked, but Fern's smile already told her it was more good news.

  "Not a thing. The forest is as quiet as the plains were."

  Netya grinned and embraced her friend. "We are safe here. I was worried at first, but everything about this place has welcomed us."

  "My dreams tell me the same," Lyucia said. "The spirits meant for us to be here. Adel was right to press on. I should never have doubted her."

  "There is a little more ground left to cover to the northeast, but one more day is all it will take to finish our scouting," Fern said. "Then we can enjoy stories around the fire instead of running ourselves ragged from dawn till dusk." She nudged Netya and leaned in closer while the others made their way to the ridge. "And you must tell me what you have been doing alone with Caspian while we were away. I need something to see me through until the summer gathering."

  Netya giggled, giving her friend a kiss on the cheek and whispering into her ear. "I will tell you all about it, so long as you share with me a few more of your tricks. Perhaps you know better than me how to please a man when the weather is so cold."

  Fern smiled. "Perhaps I do."

  Tucked away in the warm cave that evening, it was almost like being back on the outcrop. Comfortable and rested, bellies full of freshly cooked fish, and surrounded by the mixed murmur of half a dozen different conversations. Netya lay back in the crook of Caspian's arm, nestling into the spot they had made for themselves up against the back wall. They were not joining in with the talk, content instead to listen quietly in the background as they savoured one another's company. It was just like Caspian to let others converse while he listened. He did not often speak unless he had something worth saying, and when he did voice his inner thoughts people tended to hang on his every word. It was a kind of restraint that Netya had come to admire, and even try to emulate herself from time to time. She had become comfortable with silence when she was with him.

  It surprised her, then, to hear a note of irritation in Caspian's voice when he did speak.

  "Rokan and Yenna have been bickering ever since we left."

  Netya glanced over in the direction of the mated couple. They were speaking in hushed voices, keeping mostly to themselves. "You think so? I know they are upset about leaving their son, but they do not bother anyone else with their troubles."

  "No, only themselves. And it will carry on all winter. She thinks she could have persuaded their son to stay, and he is too timid to admit that she is right. They dance around one another like wasps because he has not the confidence to put her worries to rest."

  "I will not pretend to understand a man's pride," Netya said.

  "It seems no one does," Caspian sighed. "Wait here, this will only take a moment." He stood up and approached Rokan and Yenna, towering over them with his hands on his hips until they noticed him and broke off their conversation.

  "He agrees with you," Caspian said, the deep, pow
erful note in his voice turning several heads as it carried throughout the chamber. "You could have persuaded Rolan to stay if you tried, but you did not, and perhaps that is for the best."

  Rokan glared up at the other male, his cheeks colouring with indignity at being addressed so in the presence of his mate. "What do you know of another man's son?"

  "I know that he was old enough to make the decision for himself. Be happy with his choice. You could have kept him if you tried, but only by hobbling him to his parents like a child. Is that the future you would have wanted for him?"

  Yenna looked to her mate and tugged at his arm. "Is he right? Is this how you felt?"

  Rokan ground his teeth, trying to meet Caspian's gaze. It only took a moment before he faltered, bowing his head in submission to the other male. "Yes," he muttered to Yenna. "I could not... It was difficult to say so clearly."

  "Put it to rest," Caspian said. "And do not be afraid to speak openly with your woman. She looks to you for answers, even if they are not the ones she may wish to hear."

  Rokan bobbed his head silently. Had he been in the shape of his wolf, Netya suspected his tail would have been firmly tucked between his legs at that moment, ears flattened in obedience.

  Caspian nodded, then left the pair of them alone as he returned to Netya's side and settled down again.

  "Were you not worried he might be angry?" she whispered.

  "Of course, but what else was I to do?" Caspian raised his palms in exasperation, before folding them behind his head. "No other man was about to step forward, and I doubt Adel would have understood what troubled him."

  "What if he disagreed? He could have challenged you."

  "Some challenges are settled before they even begin. It needed to be said." Caspian's brow wrinkled, and he rubbed his eyes, as if trying to dispel some unseen discomfort. "Let's not speak of it any more. I would rather not worry over the disagreements of others."