“If Bast stays here I stay here,” Danita said quickly.
“Don’t you think you’d rest better back at Mari’s burrow?” Antreas said—not unkindly, but firmly.
Danita narrowed her gray eyes at him, and her hand found Bast’s head. “If Bast stays here … I stay here,” she repeated slowly and distinctly.
Bast’s bright yellow gaze lifted to her Companion and she began purring so loudly that it almost covered Antreas’s long-suffering sigh.
“That’s fine with me,” Mari said. “Actually, Nik, maybe we should stay here tonight, too. Sora might need help with—”
“Nope, don’t need any help at all,” Sora said through a mouthful of stew as she rejoined their group. “Or rather, Isabel, Danita, and even O’Bryan can help me keep things in order tonight. You rest or I’m going to end up taking care of you, too.”
Sounding a lot like Sora, Mari snorted. “That’s an exaggeration.”
“You almost fell over just a few minutes ago. Go back to our burrow. Brew yourself some of that chamomile and lavender tea I already put together for you; it’s in the basket—”
“I know where it is,” Mari said, sounding exasperated. “I just feel like I should be doing something more.”
All teasing left Sora’s expression as she answered her friend, “You saved the Tribe. You saved me. Mari, even Leda couldn’t have done more.”
“Really?” Mari asked.
“Really,” Sora said.
Mari turned to Nik and stepped into the circle of his arms. “Nik, would you and Laru and Rigel please take me home?”
“It would be our honor, Moon Woman,” Nik said as Laru and Rigel barked agreement and Cammy jumped happily around them.
CHAPTER 17
Mari expected the walk home to be a trudging trek of misery, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. The moon was fully risen and cast a soft, silvery light through the whispering cottonwoods and tall, regal cedar trees that was so bright she and Nik were able to stroll side by side, her hand in his, newly healed of its burns by moon magick, while Rigel managed to tease Laru into a game of try-to-take-the-stick-from-him. She and Nik laughed at the pup, whose paws and ears were still entirely too big for his adolescent body, and at Laru, whose patience was very obviously being tested.
“Laru’s really a sweet canine,” Mari said as Rigel tried unsuccessfully to take a stick from the adult Shepherd and then both canines sprinted down the path, scattering leaves and jumping over logs.
“He’ll always remind me of Father.”
Mari studied Nik’s face. “Does it hurt to be reminded of him all the time?”
“No.” Nik looked surprised. “Not at all. It’s comforting. What reminds you of your mother?”
Mari considered before answering. “Hm, lots of things actually. Maidenhair ferns, because she loved using them for hair on her favorite Earth Mother idols. Forget-me-nots, because they were her favorite flower. She washed with rosemary and rosewater, so that herb and that flower remind me of her every time I cook with rosemary, or smell a blossoming rose. And, of course, the moon.” Mari lifted her face to the silver orb. “The moon will always remind me of Mama. You’re right. It’s comforting. It’s like part of her is still here.”
“Part of her is still here. You’re part of her, Mari. As long as you remember her, and your children remember her, and even your children’s children remember, your mother will still be here.”
Those two words, your children, seemed to hover in the night air around Mari, mixing with the light of the moon, so bright that it tinged the forest with an aqua blue that made her feel as if she and Nik, Rigel and Laru, had passed through a veil and were walking in a magickal land populated only by them. Your children …
Mari snuck a glance at Nik. Trying to sound nonchalant, she asked, “Do you want children?”
When he didn’t respond, Mari felt her face flushing. Had that been a stupid question? She hadn’t ever been interested like that in any male before Nik, and she suddenly felt like a bumbling fool. She’d thought he felt the same—had been sure he felt the same—but his silence told her something else entirely.
“I—I just meant someday. Not now. Not even soon. And not necessarily with me. I was just curious, that’s all.” She realized she was babbling and closed her lips tightly so that nothing else embarrassing could escape. When he still said nothing, she tried to pull her hand from his, feeling horribly inept and thinking that he’d probably had lots more experience with relationships and sex and all of that than her—just about anyone had more experience than she had. Could it be that the truth was, no matter how much he cared about her, Nik didn’t want children with her? They’d be part Earth Walker. Maybe Nik didn’t want babies who had Scratcher blood.
But Nik held tightly on to her hand, not letting her pull away from him. He lifted it to his lips, kissing the back of it sweetly, softly, before saying, “Sorry, Mari. I didn’t mean to take so long to answer. It’s complicated, though.”
“Yeah, I understand. I’m not part of your Tribe, and that’s—”
“Hey!” He stopped and turned her to face him. “That’s not it at all. Mari, don’t you understand what you’ve done for me?”
“I’ve turned your life upside down,” Mari said honestly.
“Well, yeah, but that’s not what I meant. When I found you, or rather, you found me, I finally felt understood. You know what it’s like not to fit in—to watch everyone around you be one way but know you’re not that way. Mari, you’re magickal and strong and beautiful, and I think about touching you—a lot, like, to the point it’s distracting. Hell, you’re a Goddess to me! But what I appreciate most about you is that I can be myself with you. Mari, I love you.”
She stared up at him, her stomach doing strange little flip-flops. “I love you, too, Nik,” she heard herself saying.
“Well, that’s a relief to hear!” he said. He bent and kissed her. There was heat in the kiss, and a promise of much more to come, but he pulled back so that he could meet her eyes, though he kept his arms around her. “I want children. Lots of children. And lots of canines, too. Shepherds, Terriers, it doesn’t matter. I want a bunch of them. But it also doesn’t matter if my children never bond with a canine—never become a Companion or even a Moon Woman like you, though that would be something truly spectacular. I will value our children for who they are, not for some kind of perceived Tribal status. What took me so long to answer is that I want all of that, but in a world where our children won’t be judged by their mixed blood.”
“I want that, too,” Mari said. “Only I really do hope that all of my…”—she paused, smiling shyly, and then corrected herself—“I mean, our children, I hope our children are chosen by canines. Life is just better with a Companion.”
Rigel came tearing past them, chasing Laru, who still had the stick he wanted, and almost crashed into the two of them.
“Hey! Watch where you’re running,” Nik called.
Laru instantly turned and padded to Nik, stick in mouth, breathing heavily, but looking pleased with himself. Rigel bounced around his sire, making small, begging sounds.
“You’re being pathetic,” Mari told her pup. “There’s a forest full of sticks around you. Just find another one.”
Whining softly, the young Shepherd left the path, sniffing around. In a few moments he reappeared, dragging a log that was the size of Nik’s leg, which made Mari roll her eyes and then giggle.
“Well, I like that he sets his bar high,” Nik said, grinning at the pup. Laru sneezed in obvious disgust, which made them both laugh. Then Nik cupped Mari’s face in his hands. “Will you really build it with me? This new world where our children, our people, our Pack, will not be shamed or judged by the shade of their skin, or the color of their eyes, but instead will be valued for their strengths and their goodness?”
Mari felt a sense of stillness come over her, as if she’d waited her entire life to be asked such a question by someone who could actually h
elp her change the world. “Nik, that’s been my dream since I understood that I was different, and that my difference wasn’t accepted by my Clan. Yes! A million times yes!” She stepped into his arms and felt as if she’d finally come home.
* * *
The burrow was tidy and warm, and it smelled of freshly baked bread, rabbit, and a smoldering hearth fire. Mari felt the last of her tension slip from her shoulders as they closed the thick wooden door and barred it against the outside world.
“Are you hungry? I made sure we left a loaf of Sora’s bread. I could spread some honey on it,” Mari asked Nik as Laru and Rigel curled up together in front of the door and promptly feel asleep, looking more like twins than sire and son.
“That sounds great. I’ll stoke the hearth fire and brew that tea Sora said you should drink while you’re cutting the bread.” Nik rifled through the basket of dried-tea pouches until he found the chamomile-lavender mixture.
Working side by side, they were soon sitting cross-legged before the hearth fire, munching bread and honey and sipping fragrant tea.
“I think it went well tonight, don’t you? I mean, no one died. No one was even injured. Companions are guarding Clanswomen, and Clanswomen are taking care of Companions. I’d call that success, though it was upsetting how fast the women turned on us when they thought we’d hurt Sora,” Nik said.
Mari started to agree with him, her mind casting back to the voice of anger that had almost caused a riot, when suddenly that shrill voice clicked in her memory. “It was Serena!”
“Who? I don’t think I know a Serena.”
“She’s a Clanswoman who chose to leave earlier today when I accepted O’Bryan and the rest of the Companions in our group. Serena couldn’t handle it. Actually, she acted a lot like I expected the entire Clan to act in response to finding out about Rigel and me. I told her to leave if she couldn’t accept the Companions and me. She left with a few of the older women. They were supposed to be heading to either Clan Fisher on the coast or another Clan south of here.” Mari shook her head in disgust. “But she snuck back, probably to get Washed again. Obviously, she also wanted to try to start problems between Tribe and Clan. I didn’t see her in the group afterward, but I’m going to have to warn Sora about her.”
“The last thing we need is someone sowing poison among us,” Nik said. “Speaking of poison, I had a thought about the Skin Stealers’ disease that I wanted to talk with you about once we were alone.”
“Well, we’re alone right now,” Mari said.
“We are indeed. For the first time in what seems like a long time,” Nik said. He reached over and touched her bottom lip, wiping a sticky drop of honey from it and then sucking it from his fingertip. “Sweet, like you.”
Mari felt a rush of heat and totally forgot what he had been saying. His green eyes gleamed knowingly at her. “Huh?” she said, her head feeling as woozy as her stomach.
“I was saying that you’re sweet as honey.”
“No. I mean, thank you. But what were you saying before that?”
“Oh, the Skin Stealers. I’ve been thinking about what we saw today—the group of them with the boar. Remember what Rose said about Thaddeus changing even more after he came back from being captured by them?”
“Yeah, she talked about Odysseus and said she thought they’d flayed his flesh and put it on Thaddeus.”
“What if that’s another kind of cure for the disease? Only the cure permanently changes the person, and maybe even the animal. Odysseus has always been a nippy little Terrier, but Rose says he’s been worse lately. And Thaddeus has always been an angry jerk, but lately he’s become mean and dangerous. When the disease changed, I think it changed them, too.”
“That sounds so crazy, Nik.”
“I know, but hear me out. We already believe the Skin Stealers are responsible for this new disease.”
“You know more about that than I do. Earth Walkers rarely have had anything to do with Skin Stealers. We never go to Port City, or even close to it. It’s been forbidden for generations.”
“But why?”
“Why?” Mari shrugged. “Because that’s how we’ve been raised. ‘Of cities beware—Skin Stealers are there.’” She recited the little rhyme all Earth Walker children learn from the time they are old enough to speak. “We’ve always known the city was dangerous, so we stay away from it. And not just Port City. All cities are to be avoided, or at least all of the ancient cities.”
“But maybe your ancestors knew more than just that cities were dangerous. Maybe they knew they’re diseased.”
“Maybe. Mama never said much about it, but she didn’t have reason to. Like I said, the Clan stays out of cities. Always. I could check the old journals—those written by my grandmother and her mother’s mother. Maybe we’ll find something in them that’ll help us figure out what’s going on.”
“I think I know what’s going on, and it’s not good. I think the Skin Stealers have purposely spread their poison to the forest.”
“But why?”
“You’ve never been inside the City—I have. It’s a nightmare place. Vermin and bizarre, mutated plants and animals live there. There are sinkholes everywhere and danger hidden by vines and crumbled buildings. It’s worse than the destroyed bridges and the run-offs caused by them.” Nik shuddered. “If they weren’t so disgusting, I’d feel sorry for the Skin Stealers. Nothing could make me live in that poisoned place.”
“Oh, Goddess, Nik! Are you saying you think they’re poisoning the forest—and us—so that everything is like their ruined City?”
“No, I think they’re poisoning us so that they can leave the City and take over the forest. Think about it—Thaddeus was captured and let loose by them. He returned to the Tribe and ended up murdering our Sun Priest and causing the forest fire that destroyed more than half of our city—and killed many of our people. He is just one person, but look at how much damage he’s done. Look at how badly he’s weakened the Tribe.”
“Nik, how easy would it be for the Skin Stealers to take over the Tribe of the Trees right now?”
“Too damn easy.”
* * *
They washed and got ready for bed. Mari tried to act normal, tried not to be nervous and awkward, but she failed. When she caught herself picking her fingernails and sneaking secret glances at Nik as they finished cleaning the dishes, she gave up and decided she’d better tell him the truth.
“I’m a virgin!”
Nik froze in the middle of drying the last mug. “I’m not surprised.”
Mari turned her eyes from him, utterly humiliated.
He put down the mug and went to her. “Hey, that sounded wrong. What I meant to say is that I’m not surprised because you had to keep what you really look like hidden from your Clan. That would make it tough to have any kind of intimate relationship. I’m amazed you managed to have friendships with Jenna and Sora.”
“Oh, Sora and I weren’t friends until after Mama died and I revealed who I really am. And even then it took her blackmailing me to force me to allow her close. And Jenna thought what the rest of the Clan thought—that I was sickly. She understood unusual circumstances because her mom died when she was little and, instead of leaving her to be raised by the Clanswomen as any other Earth Walker male would have done, her father insisted on actually being her father. So, Jenna was easy to be friends with, even though if it was a sunny day I always, always canceled my plans with her.”
“No boyfriends?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Never,” she said. She moved her shoulders restlessly. “I used to envy Sora because of all the male attention she got. She’s so pretty and confident, and she was always surrounded by interested males, especially Jaxom, who I thought she was going to choose as a mate. I’m pretty sure he did, too. I wonder what’s going to happen to him now?”
“That’s a different kind of discussion, and I don’t want to change the subject. Not yet. How do Earth Walkers ch
oose their mates?” Nik went to the pallet that was now Sora’s bed and patted the space beside him so that Mari joined him.
“Clanswomen always do the choosing. Clansmen court us. Well, them. No Clansmen ever tried to court me.” Mari narrowed her eyes at him, as it was clear that he was trying to hide his amusement. “Are you laughing at me?”
“No! Not at you. I was just thinking about how you looked the first time I saw you under that willow tree. Your disguise was messy.”
“But it worked. No one knew that under all of that dirt and dye I was part Companion. You’re right, though. It was really messy. And smelly, too.” She shuddered delicately. “I’m glad that part of my life is over.”
“Me, too. You said Clansmen do the courting. What does that mean?”
“Well, often a Clansman will make gifts for the woman he hopes will choose him—we are Clan Weaver. Even the men have weaving skills. A Clansman could also forage something special for his girl.” Mari pointed to the precious round piece of mirror that was on her desk near her sketching supplies. “That mirror was a gift from my grandma’s favorite suitor.”
“Favorite?”
“Yeah. Not only do Clanswomen choose when and who they’ll mate with, they also choose when or if the relationship will end. Moon Women tend to have several lovers, but no permanent mate.” She moved her shoulders again. “I think it’s because we have to focus on the Clan, and then the raising of our daughters to be Moon Woman after us. That doesn’t leave much time for a mated relationship.”
“But I thought your mother was committed to your father.”
“Oh, she was! Mama only loved one man—my father. But Mama was an exception to the rule,” Mari said.
“I’m hoping her daughter is also an exception to the rule.”
This time Mari felt her body flush with her face. “How is it with your people?”
“In the Tribe, the choosing of a mate is mutual, as is the ending of the relationship—though we do tend to mate for life.”
“Oh, it’s usually mutual with the Clan, too. But according to Law, Clanswomen make the final decision.”