Neither noticed the Warrior and her Shepherd, frozen below them, hidden by the rubble of a fallen nest. Claudia’s eyes were huge with shock, and Mariah glared up at the Hunter with the focused intensity of a true Warrior.
Was the man utterly mad? Claudia had heard everything, and she was still reeling from her discovery. For a moment she considered drawing her crossbow and breaking one of the Tribe’s basic tenants by killing Thaddeus.
She even reached for her bow, meaning to do it. She sighted carefully. One shot for Thaddeus and it would be over.
But would it be over? Thaddeus said the sickness raging through the Tribe was curable and caused by Skin Stealers! How? Why? What was this strange cure he spoke of? Kill Thaddeus and what were they going to do? Go to the Skin Stealers for help? Not possible.
And where was Odysseus? Thaddeus spoke to his Companion as if he were by his side, but though Claudia’s sharp Warrior eyes searched the platform, she could find no sign of the wounded Terrier.
And as she stared up the sight of her crossbow at Thaddeus, Claudia realized something else. Her stomach roiled with more than the sickness that infected her. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t murder a Tribesman. Claudia lowered the bow, motioning to Mariah, and the two of them backed silently away from the tree in which Thaddeus was still carrying on a macabre celebration. They made a wide circle before heading east again.
At the edge of the blackened rubble of ruins that used to be a graceful City in the Trees, Claudia found Wilkes waiting patiently, Odin by his side.
“Good, I was beginning to worry about—”
“We have to talk. Not here, though. We’re too close. You won’t believe what I just overheard from Thaddeus.”
Wilkes coughed, cleared his throat, and finally managed, “He should be surrounded by his Hunters in deep mourning. As I was packing to leave, I overheard the news. Odysseus died today.”
“Sunfire! I was right. He has gone completely mad.” Claudia felt all the blood drain from her face. “Hang on. I think I’m going to be sick—” She staggered a few feet away and vomited the contents of her stomach.
“Hey, are you okay to travel?” Wilkes went to her quickly, holding back her hair and supporting her with a strong arm as she retched miserably.
“No, I’m not okay, but we have to travel. And I’m puking because Thaddeus disgusts me more than because I’m sick.”
“All right. Tell me about it while we walk,” Wilkes said. “You can walk now, right?”
“Right. Where exactly are we going?”
“Southeast, to Earth Walker territory.”
“You know where Nik and Mari are living?” Claudia asked.
“No.”
“Then how do you plan on finding them?”
“I don’t. I plan on them finding me. Now tell me about the latest poison Thaddeus is spewing.”
* * *
As dusk softened the light fading over the birthing burrow, Mari and Sora turned to Danita. She stood between them, and Mari thought she looked particularly lovely. Sora had dressed her hair, weaving the feathers of a rare raptor to frame her face, making her look exotic and beautiful.
“Are you ready?” Sora asked.
“I think so,” Danita said.
“You’re going to do great,” Mari said.
“I’m really nervous.”
“Everyone is their first time,” Sora assured her. “I first danced my name in front of Mari while she scowled at me. I almost cried.”
Mari frowned at her. “I was not scowling at you! I was—” A look from Sora broke off Mari’s words. She looked from her Moon Woman friend to the pale, quiet girl standing between them whose face and shoulders still showed the yellowed and purpled evidence of the violence she so recently survived. “I think the point is, Sora’s right. We are all nervous the first time. What Mama told me might make it better for you—it did for me. Remember that you’re not dancing for the Clan or for your friends or for any particular male. You’re dancing with joy for the Great Goddess, sending an introduction to the moon. Forget everything except that.”
“Just dance for the Goddess and the moon,” Sora repeated, smiling kindly at Danita.
“I can do that,” Danita said. “But do you think the Great Goddess will mind that I’m broken?”
Mari took Danita’s shoulders in her hands and forced the girl to meet her eyes. “You are not broken. The men who brutalized you—they were broken. The Goddess knows that. I promise.”
“The Great Mother will strengthen you. Just ask it of her and she will always, always answer her Moon Woman,” Sora said.
“But I’m not a Moon Woman yet,” Danita said.
“Really? What does your heart say about that?” Sora asked.
“It says I want to be a Moon Woman more than I’ve ever wanted anything,” Danita said.
“Heart is what makes a Moon Woman—heart and spirit and tradition,” Mari said. “That’s what Mama always told me.”
“If Leda said it, then it must be true!” Danita suddenly perked up. “I am ready.”
“Okay then. Let’s do this,” Mari said.
Side by side, the three young Moon Women descended the stone stairs to their Pack, waiting in the clearing beside the stream. As they reached the clearing, Rigel rushed up to them, gently carrying a complaining Chloe by the scruff of her neck.
“Are you eating her?” Sora demanded, snatching Chloe from Rigel, who moved immediately to Mari’s side, sending waves of confusion to his Companion.
“Sora, that’s how pups are carried around the Tribe. Nik told me. And you know Rigel would never hurt Chloe,” Mari said.
Sora instantly stopped her nearly hysterical inspection of Chloe, lifting the whining pup so that she could look into her eyes. “Is that true? Is that the way pups are carried in the Tribe?”
Chloe stopped whining and licked Sora’s nose.
Sora sighed and turned to Rigel. “I apologize, Rigel. Chloe was being overly dramatic. I don’t know where she gets that.”
“It’s a mystery to me,” Mari muttered sarcastically.
Danita covered her laughter with her hand.
“Well, I thank you, Rigel, for bringing Chloe to me.”
“So do I.” Mari bent and kissed the half-grown Shepherd on the nose, thinking that this time she didn’t have to bend so far to reach him. Wow! He’s growing so fast!
“Okay, Chloe is situated.” Sora patted the front of her tunic where the pup’s head poked out, black eyes shining with excitement.
“Perfect. Moon Women, let’s go!” Mari said.
They moved ahead together as if they were one—Earth Walkers and their canines. The central bonfire was blazing and the scent of the trout O’Bryan had spent all day catching, as well as roasted garlic, hung heavy and succulent over the hungry people, canines, and feline.
“Moon Women! Our Moon Women are here!”
Mari recognized Jenna’s happy shout. She waved and grinned at her friend, pleased to see Sora following her lead and waving and calling hellos to members of the Pack. Danita called one hello—it was to Bast, though when Mari glanced at her she seemed to be smiling at Antreas as well as his feline. Mari even saw the cat man touch his own hair and then give Danita a big smile and a thumbs-up, as if he was commenting on the feathers Sora had dressed her hair with—which made Mari wonder where exactly the feathers had come from.…
“Greetings, Pack!” Sora shouted.
“Greetings, Moon Women!” they shouted as one in reply.
“Tonight, as Mari and I call down the moon and Wash those of you who are injured, the first of your new Moon Woman apprentices, Danita, will dance her name into the earth, formally introducing herself to our Great Goddess, as well as the moon,” Sora said.
“As tradition dictates, Danita will dance her name by herself, until she has spelled it out once, in its entirety. Then the Pack may join her,” Mari said.
“And please do!” Danita blurted. “I’ll be nervous enough out th
ere by myself.”
Laughter trickled through the Pack as Mari and Sora raised their arms and began the invocation:
“Moon Woman I proclaim myself to be.
Greatly gifted, I bare myself to thee.”
Mari faced one side of the loose circle the Pack had naturally formed and Sora the other. While Danita danced her name across the earth, proclaiming herself a Moon Woman apprentice, those who were injured approached either Mari or Sora, kneeling and bowing their heads for the Washing of moon magick.
Nik was there, kneeling before Mari. He smiled at her before bowing his head, and she rested her hand on his soft blond hair. She spoke lovingly, letting her hand linger.
“I wash you free of injury and sadness and gift you with the love of our Great Earth Mother,” she murmured the traditional blessing, tweaked slightly because he didn’t actually need Washing—he needed healing. But Mari found the feeling was the same. Companion or Earth Walker, when she invoked moon magick she was filled with a cool, silver power that cascaded through her body, engulfing the recipient in the healing embrace of a mother—compassionate, kind, and loving.
“Thank you, Moon Woman.” Nik spoke formally, but the expression in his eyes was anything but formal.
Mari moved through the Pack, keeping in time with Sora. They were done quickly, perfectly timed with the last letter in Danita’s name. The Moon Woman apprentice grinned at her mentors. “I did it!”
“Yes, you did!” Sora said.
“And now, Pack, please join Danita in dance while we accompany her with music, feasting, and song!” Mari cried. With a whoop of excitement, the Pack descended on the food as drums and flutes began to play.
Nik and Laru finally wove their way through the crowd to her. Nik had two wooden plates in his hands balancing a mug filled with something that smelled suspiciously like spring mead.
“You found the mead again, didn’t you?” Mari took her plate from him as the four of them walked to a spot at the edge of the campfire circle that was a little shadowy and less populated than the center of the busy circle.
“Actually, O’Bryan found an Earth Walker named Spencer. Apparently, Sora put her in charge of the mead. He charmed Spencer into digging up another barrel of it. Don’t ask me how. I’ve known him my whole life, so it’s hard for me to find him charming.”
Mari grinned. “I think he’s charming.”
“Oh, you do?” Nik pressed his shoulder into hers. “Do I need to be worried?”
Mari’s grin turned into laughter. “No! But I do like O’Bryan, and he is charming. And considerate. And tall.”
“I’m feeling worried.”
Mari bumped him with her shoulder. “Is it odd that I want to make it clear that you don’t need to be worried about your cousin and yet I’m enjoying the fact that you’re worried? I think that’s a paradox.”
“I think that’s a woman,” Nik mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Not one thing. Your trout’s getting cold. Let’s eat.”
Mari sat, cross-legged, with her back to a log. She expected Rigel to lie down, along with Laru, beside them, but both Shepherds remained standing, tongues lolling, ears pricked, looking around the clearing.
“What’s going on? Is something wrong?” Mari asked quickly, though she didn’t pick up any warnings from Rigel—just hungry expectation.
“Rigel! Laru! Cammy! Fala! Bast! Come on!” Sheena’s voice carried across the clearing as Laru and Rigel stared at their Companions.
“Okay, go!” Nik said, laughing.
Laru sprinted off, but Rigel remained, slobbering and staring at Mari.
“Are you starving him?” Nik asked, bumping her shoulder much as Mari had just bumped his.
She frowned at him. “Of course not. I just don’t know what’s going on.”
“Oh, sorry! Of course you don’t. Sheena’s calling the canines, and apparently a Lynx, too, to their dinner. She’ll have raw rabbit mixed with vegetables, grains, and eggs dished out for them. It’s the way of the Tribe—and now the way of our Pack. We all eat together.”
Mari looked at Rigel, who was staring at her, drool dripping from his muzzle, but not moving from her side.
“Sweet boy, go!” she told him. He barked joyfully and sprinted after his father. Mari laughed. “I’ve never been that happy to eat.”
“Canines feel things more intensely than we do. It’s part of the beauty of being bonded to one. If you concentrate on Rigel while you’re eating, your dinner will seem especially delicious.”
“Really? That’s fabulous!” Mari said. She closed her eyes and thought about Rigel—thought about how much she loved him and how just by pressing against the side of her leg he could make her feel special and protected. Suddenly she was utterly ravenous. “Hand me that trout. I need food,” she said.
Nik chuckled. “Far be it from me to stand between a Companion’s food and her hunger.”
Mari didn’t even notice that it took her no time at all to clear her plate. She only knew that everything she tasted was delicious and she was suddenly feeling very full and very, very satisfied.
“He’s going to make you sleepy now if you don’t separate from him,” Nik said.
“Huh?” Mari said around an enormous yawn.
“Stop thinking about Rigel!” Nik said sharply.
Mari blinked, surprised at his tone. She frowned at him. “Why are you yelling at me?”
“I’m not. Are you feeling less sleepy?”
Mari thought about it. “Well, yes, I am.”
“It’s fun to let his hunger take you through dinner. Your food will always taste better. But you have to stop the connection at the end of the meal. Look at them.” Nik gestured to a spot very near the center bonfire.
Mari looked, and the corners of her lips lifted. “They’re sleeping. All of them.” And they were. Laru, Rigel, Fala, her puppies—minus Chloe—Cammy, Sheena’s Captain, and even Bast were sprawled in front of the fire in various stages of sleep. “Oo-oh, I get it. Rigel was making me sleepy!”
“Yep, he sure was, but you’re back now.” Nik leaned into her and kissed Mari, softly but intimately. Then he sat back and smiled at her. “Danita did a good job of dancing her name. Or, at least, I think she did.”
“I’m sure she did. I wasn’t able to watch her much, but she practiced over and over.”
“You didn’t watch her, but I noticed someone who did,” Nik said.
“Bast?”
“Of course. But I was talking about Bast’s Companion.”
“Huh! I knew it. They’re going to mate. Just wait and see, and I’m glad of it—very glad of it,” Mari said.
“Are you a romantic?” Nik gave her a raised-brow look.
She smacked his arm. “And if I am?”
“Then that makes two of us. My mother died too soon, but she did instill several things in me before she left, and being a romantic was one. You wouldn’t think my father would have appreciated it, especially in his only child, but he did. He often said I reminded him of her.” Nik smiled sadly, staring down at his hands.
Mari touched his cheek gently, and he turned to her. “It’s hard, being without them. I understand.”
Nik cupped his hand over hers. “I know you do. That’s part of why I fell in love with you. You understand me. But I often wonder why you love me.”
“That’s easy. It’s because you accept me.”
“Lots of people accept you. Look around. You have a whole Pack that accepts you.”
“I know, but you were the first Companion to accept me. You could have been mean-spirited, especially after you saw that Rigel had chosen me, and not you. But you weren’t. Your heart is bigger than that. You accepted me, Sora, Jenna, Rigel, Antreas, and all the rest of us. That’s why I fell in love with you.”
“Thank you. I don’t know what else to say except that. Words aren’t enough to tell you how happy I am that we’re together—that we’re creating a new future, a new world
… together. But I can show you. If you let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you,” Nik said.
“I’ll let you, Nik.” Mari kissed him then. Not one of her chaste kisses. Not a timid kiss. And not a kiss she broke off because she was suddenly embarrassed and unsure of herself. Mari kissed Nik—fully, passionately—pressing herself against him and losing herself in the touch and taste of him.
Nik broke the kiss first. His breath had quickened, and his eyes were hooded, his expression intense. “You can’t do that out here.”
“Did I do something wrong?” Mari asked, feeling vulnerable and a little confused.
“No! Absolutely nothing!” Nik assured her. “It’s just that when you kiss me like that—touch me like that—all I want is to be with you. Alone. In your burrow.”
“Oo-oh!” A smile bloomed on Mari’s face. “That’s good.”
“That’s good if we’re alone and in your burrow. Not so good for sitting in the middle of our Pack with watching eyes everywhere.”
Mari glanced around them and saw several people, Companions and Earth Walkers alike, averting their eyes suddenly with knowing smiles. Her face blazed with color and she took a long drink of the winter beer Nik had brought her.
“I’ll remember that when we’re alone again,” she said.
“Sunfire! I hope you do,” he said.
They shared another long, intimate look, and as Mari felt herself leaning into him again she straightened and changed the subject.
“So, how’s it going with the women? Are they weaving what we need for the trip?” she asked, smoothing her hair as she tried to stop staring at Nik’s lips.
“Oh yes!” He brightened instantly. “Mari, they’re incredible! You and Sora were right. If I can describe it to them, they can create it.”