Daughter of the Moon (The Moon People, Book Two) (14 page)

The den mother's expression remained severe, but she listened to the words of her followers patiently. "I still think it unwise," she said at last, "but I am not deaf to your concerns. I shall consider it before we leave."

Before anyone else had a chance to make their own attempts at swaying her decision, Adel drew herself up and pointed to the sun high above them. "Five days from now, when the sun is at this height, we shall depart for the gathering. I know not how many weeks we shall be gone, but if all goes well we will return before the wet season, and perhaps with greater numbers to bring into our fold. Those who I have named, make yourselves ready to travel." Her gaze lingered on Netya poignantly. "You will all need the legs and wits of your wolves on the path we must take."

Those next five days felt longer than the past year. The den mother's words chased Netya through her dreams every night, as if calling her to face a challenge she had spent too much time running away from.

Caspian put his arms around her the evening before they were to depart, drawing her in close as they curled up together on the furs inside their small cave. She felt his lips tracing the back of her neck tenderly, his talented fingers slipping beneath her clothing to caress her stomach, and for a moment she almost allowed herself to close her eyes and give in. But the anxiety clawing its way up her spine froze out any traces of passion from her body, and she shifted uncomfortably against him, tugging his hand away from her belly.

"It cannot just be your wolf," Caspian sighed. He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice, but she could tell he was frustrated. It was far from the first time she had avoided being intimate with him.

"It is all my wolf," she replied. "What if I cannot control her again? What if I do something foolish at the gathering?"

"You need to face it," he said. "You cannot keep living this way. Denying yourself any risk." His hand returned to her belly, and his tone softened. "Denying yourself a future."

Netya's neck tingled with uncomfortable heat. She should have known Caspian would guess at her unspoken worries before long. He was too quick-witted not to have questioned why she was avoiding making love with him.

"What if I do not want that future?" she whispered.

"Do you even know what it is you want?"

"How can I, when I have this animal sleeping inside me, making me do things I have no will over!" She rolled away from him, burying her face in her arms. "I know I must face it," she said at last. "Adel means to make me do so by bringing me to the gathering."

"Then surely that is for the best?"

"What if I disappoint her? What if I fail?"

Caspian sat up, the closeness of his body disappearing as he gazed outside. "Is she the only one you fear to disappoint?" he said at last.

His words stung, and rightfully so. They reminded her of Khelt. How it had angered him that she spent so much time with Adel, dedicating her efforts so fully to her mentor rather than the man who professed to her his love. She had thought the alpha did not understand her at the time, but perhaps, for all of Khelt's pride, there had been some justification to the way he felt.

Caspian understood her, and he was not so prone to jealousy. Why was Adel the one who spurred her into confronting her fears, and not him? Why the woman who had been absent for the past several months, and not the man who had been there to comfort her every night?

Feeling her throat tighten up, Netya swallowed any words she might have voiced, keeping her face buried in her arms. Caspian lay down beside her, but he did not draw her back into his embrace. She slept a fitful sleep, harried by unfriendly spirits in her dreams. The great white wolf, who was so often her guide in the spirit world, chased her this time, nipping at her ankles with sharp teeth.

When she awoke the following morning, Caspian had already risen, but he had left a wooden bowl waiting for her at the cave's entrance, filled with her favourite sweet summer fruits. The meal helped to lighten her spirits a little, chasing off the clutches of the unpleasant dreams. She went to bathe in one of the pools at the base of the waterfalls, checked the few basic supplies she had prepared for the journey south, and went to meet with the others who were gathering outside the central cave.

"Do not look so afraid," Fern said, jostling her amicably. "You will be able to travel on foot until we reach the place of the gathering. Your wolf will listen when the time comes, I am sure of it."

"I only wish I were as well," Netya replied, swallowing her apprehension as Adel went from person to person, checking to make sure their belongings held everything they would need. They had been instructed to travel light, bringing only what was essential for the journey, for once they arrived at the gathering they would be provided with ample food and shelter. The den mother's own bundles were far bulkier than those of her fellow travellers, but whatever they might have contained was hidden beneath the tight leather coverings wrapped around them.

Wren waited anxiously beside Fern, her own travelling supplies resting on the ground before her. Adel had still made no further comment on her decision to bring the young girl, and when the den mother stopped in front of her she looked Wren up and down, her expression impassive.

"You still wish to accompany us?" she said at last.

Wren nodded.

"Then bind up your belongings and make ready to leave. Let us hope you do not give me reason to regret my decision."

The girl's expression broke into a grin, her nodding becoming much more enthusiastic as she bent down to tie up her bundle. Fern smiled in her direction, and Netya could not help but feel her anxiety slip for a moment too. At least she would not be alone in attending her first pack gathering.

They said their goodbyes to the others, promising to bring back news of the other packs when they returned, and set off down the valley at a leisurely pace. They would have to take to the legs of their wolves eventually, but for the first day Adel allowed them to ease gently into the rhythm of travel. It was not customary for a gathering to begin until all packs were accounted for, the den mother said, even if theirs was not yet counted among the expected arrivals. She had given them ample time to make the journey, and as long as they did not arrive last they had nothing to be concerned with.

They turned south at the western end of the valley, winding their way through the maze of ridges and trees surrounding their home until they came to a river and followed its course onwards for the next few days. Netya rode upon Fern or Caspian's back when they were not walking, thankful for the focus of travel to help take her mind off what was to come. She was excited to attend the gathering, but fearful of what she would have to do in order to get there. Her dormant wolf seemed to have sensed its opportunity, and it was clawing at the nape of her neck again, eager to get loose and stretch its legs.

The mountains to the south rose up before them as they emerged on to open plains, drawing closer and closer each day. Netya wondered what lands awaited them on the other side. The southern mountains had been one of the edges of her world up until now, and she had never so much as dreamed about what might lie beyond them.

On the third day following their departure, the small group realised they were no longer travelling alone.

Selo spotted them first. Small dark-brown dots in the distance behind them, sometimes alone, sometimes in pairs. They moved with the grace of wolves, and they were far too large and persistent to be wild animals.

"We will not be the only pack travelling south for the gathering," Adel muttered as she watched one of their distant pursuers from the top of a small hill. "Perhaps they are your friends from the northlands, if we are fortunate," she said to Netya.

"We could stay ahead of them if we picked up our pace," Fern said.

"That would only make it seem like we were fleeing," the den mother replied. "And those who flee tell their pursuers they have reason to give chase. Curse this river, I should have known we would not be the only ones following it."

"Do we have reason to worry?" Netya said. "The packs come together in peace for the gathering, do they not?"

"For the gathering, yes," Caspian replied. "But the gathering has not begun yet, and until then we are just a handful of travellers without any claim of status to protect us."

"We must do as you did when you met Alpha Turec's hunters," Adel said. "Claim we are still part of Khelt's clan. They may be less inclined to believe we are travelling alone to the gathering, but it should give them pause to wonder."

They posted watchers that night, but the scouts in the distance did not approach them until midmorning the following day. The wolves hove into view on the opposite side of the river, no longer concerned with secrecy as they bounded forward to close the distance, followed some time later by a second small group, then another, then another, until soon there was a pack of more than thirty coming up behind them.

Netya felt her own fear mirrored in the hearts of her companions, and it was all she could do to keep from letting her panicked wolf rise up inside her and bolt for safety. But Adel maintained her leisurely pace ahead of them, giving their pursuers no hint that they feared their imminent arrival.

Soon the large pack was close enough for Netya to make out the features of individual wolves among them. They were mostly male, large and fierce, with the look of hunters about them. Near the front of the group the pitch-black coat of a shaggy male stood out among the lighter brown fur of his companions. Black was the colour of those gifted with great destiny, blessed with the wisdom of the night. The dark wolf was almost assuredly their alpha.

Finally, Adel held up her hand and called her followers to a halt, turning to face the cacophony of panting breath and drumming paws on the opposite side of the river. The wolves wasted no time in wading across to confront them, kicking the water into a churning mess of mud and spume by the time they had all hauled their dripping bodies out on the near side, moving to enclose Netya and her companions in a loose semicircle.

The alpha and several others stood at the centre, reverting from the shapes of their wolves as they strode forward to meet Adel. Netya's heart drummed in her chest, and she clung to Caspian's arm as he moved in to shield her from the beasts surrounding them.

"I know your face," the alpha barked, a broad smile splitting his lips, almost in the same way a wolf's claws had once split his chin at some point in the past, leaving his striking features further accented by a series of scars. "But I see no alpha standing at your side," he continued, turning his palms outward as he made a show of surveying the group.

The way he smiled did not fill Netya with reassurance. She scanned his followers briefly to try and pick out the faces of Orec and the other hunters she had met in the north, but she spotted none of them.

"Our alpha travels apart from us," Adel replied, her tone firm but respectful. Even though she had never considered herself subordinate to anyone, Adel was still a woman, and women were not alphas. She would be expected to defer to the senior male if she wished to appear courteous.

"It has been many years, but your beauty is not easily forgotten, Seer Adel. Or Den Mother now, is it not?" The alpha gave her another deceptive smile, and Netya could see his eyes shifting back and forth with cunning, weighing the situation before him. His long black hair was bound tightly in a tail behind his head, supple leather clothing creaking as he carried his thickly muscled form with the ease and confidence of a warrior. He was not yet beyond his prime, but the lines on his brow told Netya he was older than Adel
—that he was a man who had lived long enough to establish his strength and prove it many times over.

"Den Mother is correct," Adel replied. "To Khelt's pack, as I am sure you know."

"Khelt who bested your father and claimed you for his prize," the alpha said, his teeth showing slightly as a challenging note entered his voice.

Adel's eyes narrowed, but she did not allow herself to become flustered. "I am no one's prize, but I am honoured you recall my name. Yours, however, is not known to me."

The alpha's smile vanished. "A woman so wise as you would do well not to forget such things. I am Miral, and these lands are mine. Why has your alpha sent you here, so far from your own territory?"

"We are only passing through. The Sun People threatened our den, and we were forced to cross the mountains to evade them."

"Is that so?" Miral's smile returned. There was a smug sense of knowing about it that made Netya immensely uncomfortable. "How long, I wonder, have Khelt's people been
passing through
my lands?" He pointed suddenly to the north. "Wolves have been taking prey from the edge of my hunting grounds for many weeks now. We have found only traces, but I know the marks of my fellow kin when I see them."

Netya's heart jolted. She looked to Fern, who had suddenly turned very pale. If Adel shared in their trepidation, she gave no hint of it.

"I know not who hunts in your lands," the den mother lied, "but if you mean to accuse us, then you would be better served confronting Khelt at the gathering. I deal in the magic of the spirits, not the pursuit of wild animals."

The reminder of Adel's status seemed to make Miral cautious again, but he still regarded her with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "What if I take his den mother in exchange for the prey he has stolen? If he is now the kind of man to be chased from his lands by the spears of the Sun People, then perhaps his power is not what it once was."