Daughter of the Moon (The Moon People, Book Two) (26 page)

Ura disappeared inside, a few muffled words were spoken, and when she re-emerged she was not alone. Netya almost flinched in fear, her eyes widening at the sight of the woman who followed. If Adel had cut a striking figure before, she was now a fearsome nightmare, drawing the darkness to her like a spirit come to life. A smile touched the den mother's lips at the reaction from her followers, each and every one of them staring in awe at their leader.

The black feathers Adel had been collecting for the better part of a year adorned her shoulders, fashioned into a mantle that stirred and fluttered in the breeze like the wingbeats of a hundred black butterflies. It put even the grandness of Octavia's red headdress to shame; majestic and mysterious and imposing all at the same time. It was truly a garment fitting of a great seer, though it was no longer a seer Netya saw when she looked upon her mentor. Before her stood a witch. A sorceress. And perhaps that was exactly what Adel desired to be seen as.

The charcoal painting the den mother's eyes was thicker and more elaborate than ever, curling in strange patterns across her temples and glistening with something that made it shine whenever the firelight caught it at the right angle. Her fox pelt headdress was marked with the same dark streaks, and somehow Adel had managed to pry open the dead beast's empty eye sockets and affix within them two slow-burning coals that glowed dimly in the dark and sent thin tendrils of smoke curling up from her scalp whenever they nudged against the aged animal hide.

She was beautiful and terrifying, and even Netya felt the urge to look away whenever her eyes lingered on her mentor for more than a few moments. Here stood a woman whose appearance spoke of deals with demons and romance with dark magics. Even though she knew it not to be true, part of Netya still questioned whether some splinter of the unnatural might take root in her soul if she gazed upon the den mother for too long.

"They believe us a coven of witches," Adel said, "and so that is what we must become in their eyes. If they will not respect us, then they must fear us. That is the only way we will win our place at this gathering."

Netya almost believed it. Had she been a rival alpha, she suspected she would have forgotten any desire to bring Adel into her fold in a heartbeat. There were some things that were better left in the shadows, far from sight and mind.

Caspian was the only one whose concern still seemed to outweigh his awe, but he fell in quietly at the rear of the procession as Adel led them down the hill. Netya wondered desperately what he was thinking, but she was quickly called to the head of the column to walk at the den mother's side. She wondered whether she, too, cut an imposing figure with her features cast in shadow and hidden beneath the fangs of her wolf pelt. She did not feel imposing. Every part of her prickled with fear, but she strove to contain it as they approached the fires of the wolves who had been watching them all day long.

Adel's feet were bare, Netya noticed, and the base of her gown still dripped with the water of a fresh wash, but her step never faltered as she made directly for the centre of the clearing. Several men rose from where they were seated, closing in around them in a loose semicircle.

"Keep walking," Adel said softly. "Follow me all the way to the central fires, then wait. Whatever happens then, do not be afraid."

Peering out from beneath her headdress, Netya saw the approaching crowd falter as one by one they laid eyes upon the den mother. Warriors who looked capable of standing toe to toe with lions stopped in their tracks, suddenly unsure of what they were facing. A young man recoiled with horror when he caught sight of the embers smouldering within the eye sockets of Adel's headdress, tripping over his companions as he tried to back away. The hubbub of voices that had followed them on their first entrance was replaced with mute silence, and wolves who might have challenged them mere hours earlier backed away in uncertainty, even the bravest of them cowed by the atmosphere of unease that preceded Adel and her followers like a chill fog.

It was not all abject fear, Netya realised. Some were afraid, but most were simply unsettled. They did not know what it was they now looked upon, nor how to react. And so they waited, parting silently to allow the procession of seers through. The stray whispers Netya heard this time were dark and hesitant, like the thin trails of smoke that rose from Adel's headdress, voiced and lost again within moments. Would it be enough, she wondered? Could her mentor strike such unease into the hearts of the alphas that they would reconsider their decision? It still seemed a slim hope, but Adel was cunning. If anyone had the words to convince them, it was her.

The central fires had begun to burn down low, their roaring heat settling into a comfortable warmth which signalled the alphas had begun their meeting. Netya could see them beyond the flames, seated in a circle with food and drink spread out between them as they talked. Her heart sank a little lower. She knew little of their ways, but everything about the gathering was steeped in ceremony. Now that they had begun their talks, she suspected it was already too late for anyone else to join them. Even approaching the circle now seemed dangerously disrespectful.

One by one the alphas turned their heads in Adel's direction. They were close enough now for Netya to make out their features. Khelt pressed his lips together, his expression drawn and perplexed. Turec shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck distractedly. Adel's father began to rise to his feet in alarm, but the dark skinned alpha shot him a glare and motioned for him to remain seated, before looking back in Adel's direction with curiosity.

A respectful quiet was maintained in the area around the alphas when they were together, but that night it seemed almost the entire clearing had fallen silent. The hubbub of distant talk was numbed from Netya's ears by the crackle and pop of the fires growing louder every second. She heard Miral's voice clearly, a laugh on his breath as he turned to look at the new arrivals.

"She plans to make even more a fool of herself. What is she thinking?"

They were only a few paces from the fires now.

Gheran's beady eyes widened, emerging from the sagging folds of his face in a furious expression that threatened to freeze Netya in her tracks as the old man's inner alpha rose up. "This is a meeting of alphas, Den Mother Adel," his voice boomed through the silence. "Your presence is not permitted."

Not a single person spoke. It seemed half the gathering was watching in stunned silence as the group of seers violated the authority of the alphas by approaching them so brazenly. Netya could barely breathe. She almost failed to realise they were about to walk directly into the coals of one of the central fires until it was too late. Fern grabbed her arm and tugged her back at the last moment. No one did the same for Adel.

The den mother stopped one pace short of the fire, the flames licking at the base of her gown as she locked eyes with each and every one of the alphas in turn. Her fingers curled within her sleeve, so quickly it was barely noticeable, then she lifted her palm and opened it toward the sky. Every eye followed the gesture. The moon shone down from high above, as if Syr herself was pouring her power into the den mother's hand.

In the days that followed, those who had borne witness to what happened next would have sworn they saw dark spirits leaping from the fire around the den mother, the smouldering eyes of her headdress burning brighter as her skin glowed with the shine of pure moonlight. For she was a sorceress unlike any they had ever known, and she proved it to them on that night.

Even the stoic alphas recoiled in astonishment as Adel cast her palm downward and the coals erupted in a plume of violet fire, flaring around the hem of her gown and licking at her body as she stepped barefoot into the red-hot embers without so much as a flinch. The gout of purple flame fluttered and died in her wake, but the den mother cast her palm forward once more, and a second burst of colour erupted from the coals at her feet, flaring and dimming down to a dull violet flicker as she walked through the flames and stepped out on to the grass within the centre of the circle.

"Now," Adel said. "My pack and I will be given our place."

Not even Miral spoke a word of objection as the den mother knelt down to join the circle.

—17—

The Ways of Witches

Adel did not sit with the other alphas for long that night, and Netya was unsurprised when they called an early end to the meeting and withdrew back to their private camps. After the den mother's powerful display of magic it seemed that no one was able to focus on the talks and challenges they had been prepared to engage in that evening.

Caspian ushered the rest of them a respectful distance away so that the alphas could converse in private, and this time when the crowd parted for them it was with an air of chilly reverence. After all, if their den mother could perform such feats of power, what else might her followers be capable of? Even though Netya had been as astonished as any of them, her unease began to settle as she saw the way men and women alike seemed to shrink beneath her gaze. It was no replacement for the atmosphere of comfortable acceptance she had felt prior to that morning, but anything was better than feeling like prey surrounded by a pack of ravenous hunters. It was just as Adel had said: If they could not win the respect of the other packs, then at least they could be feared.

Netya did not want to be feared. Even as her own discomfort diminished, it gave way to a strangely lonely feeling. Was this what it felt like to hold Adel's power?

The den mother lingered behind as the circle of alphas slowly dispersed, pausing to share a few brief words with Octavia after the others had gone. Netya and the rest followed her back through the crowd to their camp a short while later, whereupon Adel disappeared inside her tent with Ura.

The others settled down in silence, most of them still just as awed as the rest of the gathering.

"How did she do it?" Fern murmured. "She called the coloured flames before, when we escaped Miral, but I have never seen her walk upon fire."

"It can be done," Yenna said, "but not over coals that burn so hot. And Adel's coloured fire—that is something that no other seer has ever summoned."

"It had to be, for the other alphas to be convinced of her power," Netya said. She looked to Caspian, but he was staring out across the clearing with his back turned. Many of the new fires that had sprung up nearby had now been abandoned.

It was not the first time in her life that Netya's curiosity had led her down a dangerous path, but she had to know. Rising to her feet, she hurried to the hill's summit and stopped in front of the den mother's tent. The light of a fire flickered inside once again. Steadying herself with a deep breath, she lifted the flap and ducked inside before Fern's anxious calls could stop her.

Ura rose to her feet immediately with a glare. "Netya, you cannot enter—"

"Let her be, Ura," Adel said, her brow twisted with discomfort as she sat upon her log seat, one leg crooked as she propped her left foot up across her right knee. "She is my apprentice."

The elder seer still seemed apprehensive, but after a moment she nodded and knelt back down. Adel's eyes remained on Netya as she sank silently into a sitting position to watch while Ura leaned back down and continued what she had been doing. The den mother's toes were blistered from the fire, but as she looked closer Netya could see that Ura was carefully prying loose flat pieces of hard resin that had been affixed to the soles of Adel's feet with some kind of plant glue. Then she recalled the water she had seen dripping from the base of her mentor's gown. Even from a short distance away, it would have been almost impossible for anyone to notice such things.

"It was all a trick," Netya gasped.

"Once you understand how a magic is made, it loses much of its potency to strike awe," Adel said, reaching down to palm a handful of sticky red powder from an open pouch beside her. "Though this one I am still proud of." She cast the powder into the fire suddenly, and Netya flinched back as it erupted in a rush of purple flame. "You recall the red rocks in the caves near the top of the valley?"

Netya nodded.

"Their dust burns with this colour, and with a mix of the correct oils it can be made to flare up."

"The den mother spent many nights preparing it before we departed," Ura said.

Netya edged closer, gazing into the fire as the violet glow burned itself out. "So all of us could learn to make this magic?"

"Yes. Though we must master many more tricks if we are to keep the alphas in awe of us in the years to come," Adel said. "I do not know how to call upon dark spirits or lay curses upon others, nor would I wish to. But if we can conjure other magics, perform feats that have never been seen before, then the other packs will believe us capable of anything. That power will keep our pack safer than a hundred warriors."

"But if we are feared, who will lend us their aid?" Netya said.

"We shall soon see. I did not come here to win only enemies. The other packs must know that our power can be used for good as well as ill. Tomorrow night when the alphas meet I shall make an offer to train any young seers who wish to learn from us. The more bonds we can make, the stronger our standing will become." Adel winced as Ura pried free another large piece of resin. "And the celebration of the summer fires falls in just a few days time. You, Fern, Selo, and Caspian will be well suited to winning the affection of the others there."