Daughter of the Moon (The Moon People, Book Two) (7 page)

Just as Netya had gathered from her earlier exploration, it was a damp and mossy chamber. Tendrils of foliage dangled from the roof, and a loamy carpet of earth covered the rocks beneath their feet. It was not elegant, but it was exactly what they needed.

Adel smiled and squeezed Netya's shoulder as she looked around the cave, nodding with approval. "My girl, I think you may have found us our new home."

—5—

Cruel Tides

It was amid an atmosphere of tense excitement that the pack awaited the return of Fern and the other scouts during the next few days. Everything about their new den seemed a gift from the spirits. There was dry wood in abundance nearby, fresh water from the pool, fish to be caught to see them through winter, and the promise of fruit and edible plants once warmer weather arrived. The only thing that remained in question was the safety of the land nearby.

Night by night, however, the scouts returned with nothing to report but more quiet woodland in every direction. Not a single person nor wolf was sighted anywhere near the new den, and after three days Netya's pack-sisters were already talking of how they might cultivate their seer's herbs in the well-irrigated ground near the outlets of the pool. It was difficult for her not to get caught up in their enthusiasm. Perhaps soon she could return to her training in the ways of the spirits, and learn to master the impulses of her wolf without the necessities of survival hounding her thoughts at every moment.

Many of the special plants the seers used for healing and spirit rituals did not grow in this land, but they had been careful to preserve the seeds they needed to regrow them when they left their home. With time and dedication, they could rebuild what had been left behind.

Even Adel seemed lighter in her step as she led the others in cleaning out the interior of the cave and making storage space for their supplies. For the first time in many weeks, the pack slept warmly every night, huddled together around the embers of their fire while the cave walls kept out the howling winter winds.

There was little room for privacy within the cave, and Netya had no wish to remind the others of what they had sacrificed to follow Adel, so she and Caspian slipped away into the woods whenever they desired intimacy together. There were no more sunny days to make their lovemaking long and comfortable, but with a fire and a hide awning to shelter them they were at least able to satisfy their desires for a few precious moments every day.

Netya had started taking the herbs that would prevent her body from accepting a man's seed again. Her supply of them was limited now, but until the safety of their small pack was assured, she had no desire to contend with the burdens of motherhood alongside everything else. The thought of bearing Caspian's child warmed her, but it was not something she could dedicate herself to yet. Who knew, perhaps the spirits would take matters into their own hands and gift her with a son or daughter regardless of the warding effects of the herbs.

She climbed the ridge to await Fern one evening, planning to fish for a short while with her spear while she waited. It was easier to focus without the urges of her wolf distracting her, and she still wanted to remain proficient with the weapon despite now having a set of teeth and claws that could serve her just as well.

She enjoyed the climb up and down the ridge. It helped to temper her travel-hardened muscles every day, keeping her strong without forcing her to go out of her way to exercise. A year ago she had been a skinny wisp of a thing, pale-skinned and fragile. Now her body was bronzed from the sun, her small frame toned with subtle definition. She could walk all day long without succumbing to exhaustion, run faster, and work harder.

The large pool was calm and soothing at sunset, ripples lapping out gently from the centre to wash over the crust of ice that was rapidly encroaching from the edges. It was strange that it had taken so long to freeze over completely, almost as if new water was constantly rushing up around the middle.

Perching on one of the rocks near the shore, Netya broke apart the ice that had formed over the nearby fishing hole with the butt of her spear, and settled down to wait. The sharp flint tip of her weapon hovered over the water, held tense and ready to thrust. The red feathers adorning the crosspiece of the shaft still reminded her of the father who had once wielded the same blade. Netya's spear was the only part of that life she had left.

She closed her eyes, breathing deep of the cold evening air as a wave of emotion tugged at her chest. It still hurt to remember, and she hoped it always would. She did not want the memories of her people to shrink and crumble until they were forgotten. Even if she never saw them again, their spirit would live on in her. In her children.

That thought soothed the aching of her heart just a little, and she opened her eyes to focus on the water again. A fat fish was hovering just below the surface, tail swaying idly as it drifted. Netya tensed, drawing back her spear a few inches as she prepared the strike. Perhaps this time she would finally catch something worth eating.

The water rippled suddenly, a strange creaking noise disturbing the quiet air behind her. A sigh of frustration left her lips as the fish darted away before she could lunge. Squinting in the direction of the ridge, she tried to make out the source of the disturbance. It had not sounded like anything she was familiar with. Almost like the straining of an old tree, or the squeak of wet fingertips against a smooth surface, only deeper.

Before she could question the odd sound any further, the bark of a wolf sounded from the far side of the pool. Netya smiled, waving her spear above her head as Fern and the others appeared from the trees and bounded toward her along the bank. She hopped back to the shore, running to meet them as they reverted from the shapes of their wolves.

"Did you find anything?" she asked, but Fern's smile already told her it was more good news.

"Not a thing. The forest is as quiet as the plains were."

Netya grinned and embraced her friend. "We are safe here. I was worried at first, but everything about this place has welcomed us."

"My dreams tell me the same," Lyucia said. "The spirits meant for us to be here. Adel was right to press on. I should never have doubted her."

"There is a little more ground left to cover to the northeast, but one more day is all it will take to finish our scouting," Fern said. "Then we can enjoy stories around the fire instead of running ourselves ragged from dawn till dusk." She nudged Netya and leaned in closer while the others made their way to the ridge. "And you must tell me what you have been doing alone with Caspian while we were away. I need something to see me through until the summer gathering."

Netya giggled, giving her friend a kiss on the cheek and whispering into her ear. "I will tell you all about it, so long as you share with me a few more of your tricks. Perhaps you know better than me how to please a man when the weather is so cold."

Fern smiled. "Perhaps I do."

Tucked away in the warm cave that evening, it was almost like being back on the outcrop. Comfortable and rested, bellies full of freshly cooked fish, and surrounded by the mixed murmur of half a dozen different conversations. Netya lay back in the crook of Caspian's arm, nestling into the spot they had made for themselves up against the back wall. They were not joining in with the talk, content instead to listen quietly in the background as they savoured one another's company. It was just like Caspian to let others converse while he listened. He did not often speak unless he had something worth saying, and when he did voice his inner thoughts people tended to hang on his every word. It was a kind of restraint that Netya had come to admire, and even try to emulate herself from time to time. She had become comfortable with silence when she was with him.

It surprised her, then, to hear a note of irritation in Caspian's voice when he did speak.

"Rokan and Yenna have been bickering ever since we left."

Netya glanced over in the direction of the mated couple. They were speaking in hushed voices, keeping mostly to themselves. "You think so? I know they are upset about leaving their son, but they do not bother anyone else with their troubles."

"No, only themselves. And it will carry on all winter. She thinks she could have persuaded their son to stay, and he is too timid to admit that she is right. They dance around one another like wasps because he has not the confidence to put her worries to rest."

"I will not pretend to understand a man's pride," Netya said.

"It seems no one does," Caspian sighed. "Wait here, this will only take a moment." He stood up and approached Rokan and Yenna, towering over them with his hands on his hips until they noticed him and broke off their conversation.

"He agrees with you," Caspian said, the deep, powerful note in his voice turning several heads as it carried throughout the chamber. "You could have persuaded Rolan to stay if you tried, but you did not, and perhaps that is for the best."

Rokan glared up at the other male, his cheeks colouring with indignity at being addressed so in the presence of his mate. "What do you know of another man's son?"

"I know that he was old enough to make the decision for himself. Be happy with his choice. You could have kept him if you tried, but only by hobbling him to his parents like a child. Is that the future you would have wanted for him?"

Yenna looked to her mate and tugged at his arm. "Is he right? Is this how you felt?"

Rokan ground his teeth, trying to meet Caspian's gaze. It only took a moment before he faltered, bowing his head in submission to the other male. "Yes," he muttered to Yenna. "I could not... It was difficult to say so clearly."

"Put it to rest," Caspian said. "And do not be afraid to speak openly with your woman. She looks to you for answers, even if they are not the ones she may wish to hear."

Rokan bobbed his head silently. Had he been in the shape of his wolf, Netya suspected his tail would have been firmly tucked between his legs at that moment, ears flattened in obedience.

Caspian nodded, then left the pair of them alone as he returned to Netya's side and settled down again.

"Were you not worried he might be angry?" she whispered.

"Of course, but what else was I to do?" Caspian raised his palms in exasperation, before folding them behind his head. "No other man was about to step forward, and I doubt Adel would have understood what troubled him."

"What if he disagreed? He could have challenged you."

"Some challenges are settled before they even begin. It needed to be said." Caspian's brow wrinkled, and he rubbed his eyes, as if trying to dispel some unseen discomfort. "Let's not speak of it any more. I would rather not worry over the disagreements of others."

"Unless you are forced to?"

Caspian snorted, putting his arm around her shoulders and tugging her in close. The agitated mutterings of Rokan and his mate did not reach Netya's ears again that evening, and she gradually drifted off to sleep as the hubbub dulled into a quiet background murmur. The crackle and pop of the fire lulled her into the embrace of the spirit world, and she dreamed she was dancing beneath the surface of the pool along with the other fish, gliding around in circles as the current tugged her to and fro, the ice creaking quietly overhead.

It was not the dull rumble of noise that startled her. Much like the others, she awoke gently to the sound, imagining it to be rain or some strange rustle of leaves in the distance. Even when it grew in volume, becoming a churning roar above her, echoing off the cave walls like thunder, she did not realise what was happening until she heard the cries of the others and felt the icy rush of cold water streaming in around her legs.

Netya's eyes shot open in a flash, the waking world mixing with her dreams in a terrifying stream of confusion. The light of the fire was gone, plunging the cave into blackness as the rising water swamped the warm coals. It was all around her, creeping up her legs and around her hips, chilling her to the bone.

She sprang to her feet, struggling to back away, but there was nowhere to go. The cave wall was at her back, and all around her she could hear the frightened voices of her pack-sisters as they splashed through the darkness. The only source of light came from the tunnel entrance, a dim glow from outside that revealed a torrent of water pouring in through the passageway.

A hand clutched at her, and she grabbed hold of it, feeling Caspian's firm grip pulling her to the side. "Hold on to me!" he yelled over the noise of the water.

She bobbed her head in a panic, not stopping to realise that the motion would be invisible to him in the dark. Over the clamour of voices around them she heard Adel yelling for silence somewhere near the cave's entrance.

"Over to me, one at a time! Grab the hand of someone next to you, do not use your wolves!"

The water around Netya's feet was rising terrifyingly fast. Within moments it was mid way to her knees, soaking through her moccasins and biting at her skin with needles of ice. It was so cold she was already shivering, letting Caspian tug her through the darkness as they waded toward Adel's voice. Cold droplets splashed against her face as scatters of water were kicked up by dozens of racing feet. Sodden furs bumped against her legs and threatened to trip her, tangling around her ankles and dragging at her steps. Someone bumped into her hard just at the arch of her foot came down on the sharp edge of a bobbing piece of firewood, sending her sprawling backward into the freezing water with a cry. Her hand twisted free of Caspian's grip, and she lost him.