Daughter of the Moon (The Moon People, Book Two) (13 page)

Adel smiled, causing a small cascade of yellowish-red dust to fall as she tugged one of the strange rocks loose. Despite her age, there were certain subjects Meadow still had a girlish timidity toward. She and Ura were two of those who had never so much as batted an eye in the direction of Caspian or the other males.

"You said she had been your friend for years. There seems nothing sudden about that." Adel turned around and gave her companion a sincere look. "If you care for her, waste no more of those years being apart. Be true to your heart."

An uncertain smile crept across Meadow's lips, and she nodded. "Perhaps you are right."

"I am your den mother, of course I am." Adel almost caught herself joining in with the woman's smile, but at the last moment she stiffened, straightening back up as she squinted through the gap she had created in the rocks. "There is light back here." She snapped her fingers, gesturing for Meadow to come closer. "Here, bring that torch."

The seer obeyed, taking a burning branch soaked with resin from beside the small fire they had kindled for illumination. Adel yanked away a few more rocks from the dusty pile, resting the torch on top as she peered through. There was a second chamber indeed, larger, and with a slope to the floor. The flames swayed as a light draft blew across them.

Adel cocked her head to the side inquisitively as she watched the torch. It was no longer burning pure orange, but with a strange hint of violet licking around the edges. The patch of reddish dust beneath it popped, and another flicker of colour touched the flame.

"What is it?" Meadow asked from behind her.

Adel lifted the torch off the dusty rocks, watching as it went back to its usual orange a moment later. "Nothing," she murmured. "Come, help me clear the rest of this." She set the torch aside and resumed her work, but not before scooping a handful of the powdered rock fragments into a pouch tucked beneath her gown.

It did not take long to clear away the rest of the debris, but the pair had been hard at work all morning, and before exploring the cave's second chamber they retreated back down the side of the valley to share a midday meal with the rest of the pack. Netya was working with Briar to affix a series of flint axes to handles in preparation for more of their woodworking efforts, while Lyucia and Selo instructed Wren on mastering the impulses of her undersized wolf nearby. The young girl was making good progress with her feral side. It was a shame that Netya had not yet gathered the confidence to continue on with her own efforts.

After eating a meal of tangy root-like vegetables the pack had discovered nearby, flavoured with a little meat mixed into the stew, Adel and Meadow climbed back up to their cave, rebuilt the fire with a few logs from down below, and took a fresh torch with them as they ventured beyond the heap of rocks.

The light Adel had noticed before was less apparent at first, but as they crept their way up the slope of the inner chamber, sidestepping more scattered rocks as they went, the dim white glow became visible above them once more.

"This valley is a honeycomb," Adel mused. "We shall certainly never be short of space for any newcomers that join us."

"Do you think anyone will? Join us, I mean," Meadow replied, sticking to the den mother's back like a limpet.

"They will have to, if our pack is to survive. But that is for me to worry over. Look up there." Adel gestured with her free hand. The roof of the inner cave seemed to be much higher than that of its antechamber, if the source of light was anything to go by. It was roughly the height of three people above them, shining dimly off the outline of another opening. The incline looked shallow enough to scale, and it was broad enough for both women to fit through alongside one another.

"Hold the torch, let me see if I can get up there," Adel said, picking her way over to a pile of rocks at the edge of the chamber.

"Are you sure this is wise, Den Mother? What if you fall?"

"Then I shall have plenty of seers on hand to tend me. Hold the light up, woman, I need to see where I am going."

Fortunately, the climb was an easy one. The rocks were not of the same powdery red consistency as those down below, and they remained strong and stable beneath Adel's feet. As she looked down from the top of the pile, she reflected that a few of the wooden boards Netya had been cutting might make the journey up and down even easier.

After a few sharp encouragements she managed to get Meadow to follow her up, and they made their way along the upper passage until it opened out through a brightly lit cleft in the rock.

The sky shone down from above, and grass bloomed beneath their feet, but the sight that beheld them when they emerged on the top of the ridge took even Adel's breath away.

A hidden glade sat tucked between the impassable stone cliffs on either side, commanding a majestic view of the land around them over the north and south edges. The trees they had spotted when they first arrived were clustered together in a small grove at the far end, while closer by a glittering lake stretched out across half the area, trickling over the edge to feed the waterfalls that cascaded down the cliffside.

"By the spirits," Meadow said softly. "Did your visions tell you of this place?"

"I do not recall. If they did, it was not on my mind."

"They must have led you here. How else could we have happened upon such good fortune?" Meadow put the torch down on the rocks and hurried to the edge of the pool, sinking her bare toes into the mud around the edge as she let out a laugh of elation. "Look at this earth! We could grow herbs, even food here! And the trees—these ones will bear fruit when the seasons are right, and those, by the edge, they are the kind Netya uses for her woodworking."

Adel wandered to the northern edge of the glade, leaving Meadow to paddle around the edge of the lake as she clambered up the rocks and peered out over the lands that lay to the north. She could make out many of the places they had travelled through on their way to the valley, and there seemed no way up to the glade save for the path they had taken through the cave to get there. It was truly a secret, sacred place.

A dozen new ideas began rushing through the den mother's mind as she walked the full circumference of the area, finally meeting Meadow back beside the lake.

"Find those who best know the ways of cultivating plants," she said. "It is as you say. We will be able to grow everything we need in this soil."

"I can almost feel the touch of the spirits in the waking world here," the seer said, all of her timidity forgotten as she closed her eyes and spread her arms wide, smiling up at the sky.

Adel gave her a weary look. The spirits were powerful, but many seers had a habit of letting their imaginations conjure them up out of nothing. Still, even if Meadow's reaction was overly dramatic, Adel could not deny that she felt it too, and so she allowed her companion a few moments of indulgence before clapping her hands together sharply to break the woman's reverie.

"The others. Go and find them. You may meditate in this place later. And Meadow," she called after her startled companion as the woman hurried back in the direction of the cave. "I am fortunate you came to me with your idea this morning. This place is a great blessing upon us, and we have you to thank for discovering it."

Meadow left the glade in high spirits, and for the rest of the day she had a glow of contentment about her that was rarely seen.

Adel sat by herself at the edge of the glade, perching upon the rocks as she watched her people come and go, examining the ground and making plans for how they could sow their seeds. The glade was a great blessing indeed. Whether they had been guided there by the spirits or not, Adel knew it would prove invaluable in the months to come.

When she made her way back to her cave that evening, the beginnings of a plan had started to form in the den mother's mind. It would rely on many other things aligning in her favour, but it was a plan nonetheless. One that might perhaps elevate her clan to a position of great status at the pack gathering.

Once the rest of the pack had retired to their caves, Adel sat up by her fire and dropped a pinch of the yellowish-red rock dust she had collected into the flames. The flicker of violet returned.

With a smile, the den mother laid out the rest of her ingredients, and began to work.

—9—

Alpha Miral

Both fear and anticipation fought in Netya's mind as she began making her preparations for the journey to the gathering of the packs that summer. It had been the better part of a year since Adel's pack broke away from Khelt's, and the time seemed to have run on by like the waters of a steady-flowing river. Only the long winter had interrupted what had otherwise been week after week of focused travel, hunting, foraging, and in the last few months, the work of making a new home for themselves in the valley.

There had barely even been time for Netya to continue her training as a seer, though she did not begrudge her mentor's apparent absence. Whatever Adel had been doing in her cave by herself, whether it was working with her black feathers, making strange concoctions from dust and oils, or simply meditating on the future, Netya trusted it was important enough to keep the den mother's attention focused inwards.

In the meantime, there were more than enough other concerns occupying the young woman's days and nights. Using her limited knowledge of how her people had crafted their wooden houses and furnishings—and substituting the robust metal tools they had used for more basic flint equivalents—she had gradually worked with Briar until the craftswoman was able to carve short wooden boards from the logs they felled nearby, fixing them together with rough joints and birch tar glue.

Their efforts had yet to come to fruition in the form of anything resembling the woodwork Netya's people had been capable of, but Briar was confident that the techniques would eventually allow them to shore up their caves with more sturdy coverings for the winter. Already she had begun laying down her smoothest boards packed on top of clay-rich mud to make easier pathways up and down the side of the valley, and Netya was happy to hand off woodworking duties to her partner once she had mastered the basics. Crafting was too slow and arduous a task for Netya, and a great many splinters and cuts from chipped flint only reconfirmed to the young woman that it was not to be her calling.

The work had been a constant distraction, however, from her dormant wolf, and the trepidation she still felt at the prospect of falling pregnant with Caspian's child. She no longer had the excuse of an uncertain, unsettled future, and her efforts to avoid making love with her man—in the most traditional way, at least—soon wore thin. She knew she should have been able to speak with him about it, but it had been easier to lose herself in the daily tasks of working with Briar or foraging in the lands nearby.

After so much change and upheaval, she was afraid of even considering the possibility of yet more uncertainty in her life. She was afraid of acknowledging the terror that lay sleeping with her wolf. If it rose up and took control again, what could she do?

It was difficult to feel the unspoken sense of discomfort that grew between her and Caspian as a result, but it was easy to forget during the days when she busied herself with more cheerful tasks, almost as if the chilling night of the flood had never even happened. Almost as if she had never taken the burden of Khelt's bite, and the wolf it had put inside her.

But her months of distraction were not to last. The time of the pack gathering was upon them, and Netya was one of those chosen to accompany the den mother on her journey to the south.

"The gathering is a show of power," Adel said as she addressed her followers, all of them gathered together outside the central cavern in the midsummer heat. "So power is what we must present to the other packs. I will have no patience for the wounded pride of those who disagree with my choice of who to bring." She eyed the gathering, making sure they understood. "The men will all accompany me. Caspian, Rokan, and Hari. The fairest and most talented of the young women: Netya, Fern, and Selo. Ura and Yenna have great skill as seers, and the cunning to demonstrate it with the most grandeur to others, so they shall join us as well. The rest of you will remain here and watch over the valley, and continue our preparations for winter."

Netya's heart leapt when her name was spoken, but others around her were clearly less than enthusiastic about being left behind. Lyucia seemed particularly incensed at not being counted among the fairest and most talented. Adel's pre-emptive glare silenced any dissent from being voiced, however, and it was only Fern who spoke up to interject.

"What of Wren?" she said. "She has never attended a gathering before. Is it not time she learned of the other packs?"

"In safer times, I might agree," Adel replied, "but children rarely strike awe into the hearts of others. Our purpose is to stake a claim, not to educate our youngster."

"Children may not inspire awe, but they might encourage sympathy," Lyucia's mother offered. "It is easier for packs to challenge one another when they see only warriors and hunters arrayed against them."

Wren stared down at the ground as the others talked over her, clearly uncomfortable at being the subject of such a discussion.

"It has been months since she spoke to anyone of her own age," Fern said more softly, putting an arm around the girl. "How many years might it be before she has another chance?"