Daughter of the Moon (The Moon People, Book Two) (40 page)

Netya sighed. Fern
was
the one with the most experience hunting in these lands. As much as Netya feared tempting fate, especially with everything that was on her mind that morning, the threat of going hungry that winter was every bit as real as the danger Miral posed. And Adel, for all of her wisdom, was no more a huntress than Netya. A wise alpha trusted his hunters to do what they did best, did he not?

"Ask Adel first," she said. "She will listen to you, and then there will be no need to risk her anger.

"She has no time for us, she spends all day hidden away in the caves with the rest of you seers!" Kin said. "Must we ask her permission every time we cock a leg to piss, too?"

A couple of the others laughed, but Netya and Meadow wore expressions devoid of amusement.

"You are fortunate she was not around to overhear you say that," Netya said. "Her or any of the other senior females."

Kin waved a hand dismissively. "You know I respect the den mother, but we—"

"Do you think you know better than her?" Netya cut him off, her voice becoming heated. She did not dislike Kin, but he was starting to test her patience. There had been no voices of dissent within the pack before he arrived, aside from the occasional indignant comment from Lyucia.

"We are her hunters," the young man retorted, deflecting her accusation with a grin. "We just want to hunt. If you worry so much then come with us, then you can tell your den mother how good we have been."

"Netya is right," Fern said, taking a far more patient tone than her friend. She was a lot better at dealing with Kin and his brothers than Netya, partially because of her status as the pack's senior huntress, but also because they knew winning her favour also meant winning her talents between the furs. "We must ask the den mother's permission before we venture into Miral's territory, even to scout."

Kin gave her an exasperated look, then threw up his hands in resignation and paced over to the back of the cave.

"The den mother went away with Selo to check on the bear," Wren piped up from her spot just outside the entrance.

"Excellent, then we can sit idle all day waiting for her to return," Kin muttered.

"We'll hunt as normal," Fern said. "I can take you to the river while we're out there, then you will all know the way if the den mother gives us permission to cross into Miral's lands." She looked to Netya hopefully. "Would you like to come with us? If Adel is away then perhaps you can escape your duties for a while."

Netya sensed it was her friend's way of hinting that it was a good opportunity to spend some time together, and after a moment of consideration she agreed. It would be nice to get away from her thoughts for a while and allow them to settle. If she remained back at the den on her own she would only spend all day agonising over the news she had received that morning.

A heavy mist had begun to settle over the land surrounding the valley, making the light haze of the waterfalls seem clear and crisp by comparison. As they padded upon their wolves' paws through the quiet undergrowth at the end of the valley the sound of tinkling bone chimes stole through the fog, each delicate, hollow-sounding tap adding its own unique chill to the air. The skeletal charms hanging in the trees peered down at them, as grim and curious as ever. A bird skull with splayed twigs for wings leered over Netya as she crept past, a single droplet of moisture rolling down the sharp piece of black flint that now served as its beak.

If the grisly totems could appear so unsettling to the very people who had fashioned them, then Netya suspected they would be twice as terrifying to any stranger.

A stole of grey cloud wrapped itself around the sun, but thankfully it brought with it no rain. The mist was their only companion that morning, and it clung to the small hunting pack doggedly as they left the valley behind them and began their run to the west.

The simplicity of her wolf's thoughts and the elation of being able to stretch her legs had the desired effect of soothing Netya's concerns. Her feral side seemed content, even proud to be bearing Caspian's child. And a daughter of such great destiny, too! She wished she could continue carrying her wolf's straightforward optimism with her after she returned to two legs, but all too quickly the sun's glow was reaching its zenith behind the thin clouds, and the splashing sound of the river reached Netya's ears.

Having caught no scent of prey along the way, the journey had been quick and direct. Part of Netya was glad that they would likely be back not too long after nightfall. Unlike her brothers and sisters who had been born pure of the Moon People's blood, Netya's kind had been raised to fear the dark and the creatures that dwelt within it. Even in the shape of her wolf some of that unease still lingered, and she had never relished the idea of hunting through the night without a fire nearby.

But their lack of success in finding prey only reinforced the fact that their land was no longer suitable for sustaining a pack of their size. They needed edible crops, or herds of animals to hunt, and only one of those things was feasible before winter arrived.

Fern brought the pack to a halt and allowed them some time to rest at the bank of the river. Aside from Kin, Eyan, and two more of the young men, young Pera had also tagged along after puffing out his chest and informing Wren that she should stay behind while the men went out to hunt. Fern had made no objection to it, and after seeing how devoid of prey the land was Netya had to concede that the boy was unlikely to be in any danger on this particular hunt.

The seven of them lined up at the water's edge, dipping their muzzles and lapping eagerly at the cool water to slake their thirst. Somewhere beyond the shrubs on the other side lay Miral's territory, though where exactly he marked the borders of his land Netya did not know. The mist made eerie silhouettes of the trees in the distance. She shivered and looked back down at her rippling reflection.

Pera had managed to keep up with the rest of them on the legs of his fledgeling wolf, but the journey had clearly exhausted him, and so Fern allowed him to rest for a little longer while the others scouted up and down the length of the river for any appetising scents they might find.

"Will we catch something to eat soon?" the boy asked.

"I don't know," Fern replied. "Hunters sometimes go days without food. Some say that starving ourselves before we begin the hunt makes our senses sharper. Hungry wolves hunt better than well-fed ones."

"I don't."

Fern laughed. "Then you will have to help us catch something to fill your belly."

Netya brushed a handful of soil from a leafy plant she had spent the last few moments prying out of the ground, revealing a cluster of knuckle-sized tubers dangling from the roots. She washed them off in the river and twisted one loose, tossing it to Pera. "Try these. They are tough but sweet. If you look up and down the riverbank you should find more."

The boy looked as though he would have much preferred a mouthful of fresh meat, but soon after popping the crunchy vegetable into his mouth he wandered off to scour the edge of the river for more. Netya and Fern headed in the other direction to do the same, and before long they were out of sight of the others.

"What is worrying you?" the huntress asked after several long moments of silence.

Netya hesitated to reply, her stomach jolting as she considered telling Fern the truth. "There is a lot to worry about," she said simply.

"Have you been arguing with Caspian again? I thought you were wildly in love once more." Fern grinned, cocking her head to the side in contemplation. "Perhaps not wildly. You two are more like graceful dragonflies dancing together than wild wolves, especially when I saw you teaching the others with those spears. Caspian only becomes
wild
when he thinks no one can hear the two of you in your cave." She gripped her friend's shoulders and gave her a teasing shake.

Unable to resist a grin, Netya twisted out of Fern's grasp and turned to face her, but her smile faltered once their eyes met. Fern had always been there to comfort and counsel her from the day she arrived with the Moon People.

"It is not that," she said in faltering tones. "Well... perhaps it is, or perhaps it will be. I do not know."

"So something
is
wrong."

Netya shook her head. "Not wrong— Oh, but perhaps it is the most wrong!" She threw her hands in the air, feeling all the emotions that had built up that morning beginning to spill out. "I should be happy, and perhaps I will be, but I did not except this, not yet! And at such a time... My thoughts should be on the pack, on Adel's teachings. I should be focused on protecting us, as everyone else is, but now I can think of no one and nothing but myself!"

Fern frowned, but she did not interrupt.

Netya took a steadying breath before going on. "Adel told me I am carrying Caspian's child. And I have had dreams of it, visions warning me of some great destiny."

Fern's features relaxed into a look of understanding. She did not need anything more explained to her. She herself had always been adamant that she did not want to become a mother until she was mated and well settled. Had she been in her friend's position, she would likely have felt the same way.

"Oh Netya, now is no time for a child," she said.

"That is what worries me so."

Fern paused for a moment, and Netya could sense their thoughts were skirting the same uncomfortable subject. "The seers have a way, do they not, to stop it from happening?"

"Yes," Netya admitted, "I once saw Adel use that magic on Essie, but she says it is dark and wicked. And if the spirits are sending me visions of my daughter, how can I go against their will?"

"What does Caspian say? Surely he would know what is best."

"I have not told him yet. I do not know how. What if he tells me to do something I do not wish to hear?"

Fern bit her lip, and, seeming at a loss for words, moved forward to embrace her friend. Netya shared the hug gratefully, letting out the long, painful breath that had been tightening in her lungs since she began speaking.

"What can we do but follow the spirits' will?" Fern said quietly.

Netya was about to respond when the sharp crack of a stick echoed from across the river, followed by a flurry of rustling foliage and a scatter of panicked hoofbeats. She and Fern broke their embrace instinctively, crouching down in the long grass fringing the riverbank. A tall stag leaped into view on the far side of the water, antlers bobbing as he darted between the trees, before vanishing a moment later into the mist.

"If only he was on this side of the river," Fern said dejectedly, rising back to her feet. Then another rustle of footfalls filled the air, and before the huntress had a chance to duck down again two large wolves, freshly wet and dripping, burst out of the undergrowth charging full-pelt after the stag.

"Was that—?" Netya began.

"Kin and Eyan!" Fern growled. "I told them not to cross over! What is wrong with males?!"

A moment later the two other wolves followed in their wake and, much to Fern's apparent horror, Pera brought up the rear.

"All of you, stop!" Fern yelled across the water, but they had already vanished into the mist. Netya thought she caught a glimpse of Pera pausing to look back, but a moment later he was gone too.

"We cannot tell the den mother of this," Fern said, raking her hands through her hair in frustration. "I should have known!"

"Has Kin done anything like this before?" Netya asked. It seemed apparent who the instigator was, for Eyan and the others had a habit of following rather than leading.

"He never took the others to break off from a hunt on his own! Oh, but I always had Caspian or Terim or more of the others with me. I am a fool!"

"We can catch them before they go too far. Come," Netya said, dropping the handful of plants she had been holding and shifting into the shape of her wolf. After feeling so trapped by the news of her future, taking action appealed to her more than usual that day, and she was in the water and paddling before Fern could stop her.

Thankfully the huntress was in no mood to argue, and soon the pair of them were clambering up the far bank and shaking themselves dry. They dashed after the others as fast as they could, letting the heat of their bodies fight back the chill of the river as they dove into the mist—and the lands of the rival alpha that lay beyond.

—28—

Miral's Territory

It soon became clear that the two females could not keep up with the men. Even Pera, miraculously, seemed able to outpace Fern and Netya as they followed an ever-colder trail leading east. Netya could almost feel the frustration billowing off her companion the longer they ran, both at herself and the ones they were chasing. Even the young seer knew enough about hunting to understand that charging after a lone beast for so long was foolish and wasteful if there was no plan to drive it into difficult terrain or wear it down. As soon as it escaped them they should have stopped, waited, and stalked it carefully until they found a better chance to strike. Kin and his companions had simply latched on to the chance at a glorious kill and were too stubborn to abandon it.

To make matters worse, Netya realised after a time that her untrained nose had failed to pick up on the disappearance of Pera and Eyan's scents from the trail they were following. Once she faltered and tried to draw Fern's attention to the fact, it became apparent that they had no choice but to stop and reconsider what they were doing.