by P. C. Cast
“Wow, strong tea,” Mari said.
“Don’t I know it! You two kept me drugged for how long?” Nik said.
“You were wounded and almost dead,” Mari said.
“And still—strong damn tea,” Nik said. “Do you want me to carry her down to the Gathering so you can Wash her?”
“Well, no. I was going to do it up here.”
“Don’t. Do it in front of the Clan, and tell them what is happening. They should know,” Jaxom spoke up, sounding more and more like the young man Mari had grown up with. He moved his shoulders, looking uncomfortable. “I know I don’t have any right to speak. I know this is my fault. But the Clan should understand that their men have been infected and are suffering from something much worse than Night Fever. The Clan should know how dangerous they are.”
“And how dangerous are they?” Mari asked.
Jaxom swallowed hard and then met her gaze unfalteringly. “Had Nik not shot me, I would have raped and killed Sora. And I would have enjoyed it.”
CHAPTER 16
With Jaxom walking on one side of him and Laru on the other, Nik carried Sora from the cave, following Mari and Rigel. Jaxom had insisted that he was well enough to join the Clan. Mari had been reluctant to let him, but the more he talked and the more she watched him, the more she realized that he truly was behaving like himself again—a considerate young Clansman who had had a crush on Sora for many winters.
They stopped just outside the circle of light and celebration. Mari touched Nik’s shoulder. “I’m going to speak to the Clan first. Then please bring Sora to me in the center of the circle.”
“May I carry her to you, Moon Woman?” Jaxom asked.
Mari and Nik shared a brief look. “Are you strong enough?” Mari asked.
“It’s just a few feet. Please. It’ll make me feel like I’m doing something—anything—to help.” Then he added sadly, “Plus, I don’t think she’ll ever let me touch her again and this way I can say my own kind of good-bye to her.”
“Okay.” Mari started to walk into the circle but hesitated and turned back to him. “Jaxom, what happened to you isn’t your fault. You’re not responsible for this disease—or whatever it is.”
“But I am responsible for what I did while I had the disease,” Jaxom said.
“There’s a difference between taking responsibility and taking blame,” Nik said.
“You aren’t to blame,” Mari said.
“Okay, I’m not to blame that I was infected, but I am responsible, and I plan on spending the rest of my life making up for what I did.” Jaxom was obviously going to say more, but he was interrupted by Danita’s bright, happy voice.
“Mari! Come dance with us! They’re going to play the Beltane song again because so many of us missed—” Her words broke off as Jaxom turned and the campfires illuminated his face. “No!” she shrieked. The word cut through the trilling melody of flutes chasing drums, and the world went silent as Danita, pale and wide-eyed, seemed to be unable to move.
Mari acted instantly. She motioned for Jaxom and Nik to remain where they were and went to Danita. She took the girl’s shoulders in her hands, moving so that she blocked Danita’s view of Jaxom.
“Jaxom is not dangerous. He has been Washed,” Mari said.
“He was with them! He was one of them!” Tears spilled down Danita’s cheeks, but her voice was strong and sure.
“He was sick. Very sick. With more than Night Fever. But Jaxom is himself again.” Mari flicked her gaze around the circle quickly, searching for Antreas and Bast, but she needn’t have worried. The big feline raced up to them, baring her teeth and hissing angrily at Jaxom while she took a defensive position beside Danita. “Look, Bast is here.”
“Bast?” Danita blinked in confusion, then her hand went down, automatically stroking the Lynx’s head. “Bast won’t let him get me.”
The Lynx growled low in her chest, flattened her black-tufted ears against her skull, and hissed at Jaxom again. Mari felt more than saw the Clansman take a step back.
“I’m sorry, Danita. Goddess, I’m so sorry!” Jaxom said.
“What’s going on?” Antreas raced up, knife drawn and held in a hand that had suddenly grown long, sharp claws.
“Stay close to her.” Mari spoke under her breath. “Jaxom is no danger to any of us, but I’m afraid that won’t undo the damage he’s already done.”
To his credit, Antreas didn’t ask questions or hesitate. He nodded quickly and then took his place on the other side of Danita, crossing his arms and making a show with his body language that clearly said if someone wanted to harm the girl they would have to go through him and his Lynx.
“You’re safe with Bast and Antreas,” Mari told Danita.
“Y-yes.” Her agreement was shaky, but she stood her ground when Mari let loose of her shoulders and faced the crowd that had begun to close the circle around them.
Mari noticed O’Bryan and Sheena and Davis had moved so that they were standing close to Nik, just outside the circle. Captain looked as alert as Bast as he skewered Jaxom with intelligent, angry amber eyes. Even the little Terrier, Cameron, had shed his puppyish playfulness. His ears and tail were up and he stood by Davis’s side, looking every bit the Warrior ready to fight to the death with his Companion.
“What has happened to Sora? Is she dead?” Isabel cried out in horror, and then the Clan’s attention was on the unconscious Moon Woman Nik still held in his arms.
“They killed the Moon Woman!” someone shouted, and then the Clan took up the cry: “Goddess! They killed Sora! Save Mari! Save our last Moon Woman!” As one, the Clanswomen surged forward, many of them grabbing torches, lighting branches, and brandishing them at Nik and Jaxom.
“No! Sora isn’t dead! She’s asleep! She had poppy tea!” Mari tried to shout over the maelstrom of noise and hysteria, but her words were drowned by fear and hatred. Horrified, she watched as one Clanswoman and then another picked up rocks and hefted them to test their throwing weight.
There was no time to think—there was only time to act, and Mari acted on instinct. She ran to stand before Nik and Jaxom, reaching up for the power of the fat moon that was now visible above the trees. As if she would cup it between her hands, Mari stretched her fingertips up and up; simultaneously she sketched a scene in her mind where the silver power of the moon cascaded down and around her, filling her with light and strength and a voice the Clan would have to listen to.
“STOP!”
* * *
Nik felt the change in the Clan as soon as someone shouted that they’d killed the Moon Woman. Cursing under his breath, he realized he’d been stupid enough to leave his crossbow back in the burrow. Knife—I’ve got my knife. Gotta put Sora down and face this, though I don’t want to hurt any of Mari’s Clan!
Jaxom had taken a step back when Bast had threatened him. He was standing behind Nik, looking young and completely lost. Nik wanted to tell him he knew a little about how the kid felt—knew what it was like to have people he trusted turn on him—when Mari lifted her arms and her body began to glow.
“STOP!”
That single word cut through the Clan like a kayak through the Channel. As one the Clan wavered, hesitated, and finally came back together, only this time they were silent and focused on Mari.
Arms still raised, Mari glowered at her Clan. Her eyes had gone from gray to silver; her hair was no longer blond but had absorbed moonlight, changing to pure, lustrous white. Her body didn’t just glow silver as Sora’s had after she’d so recently Washed the Clan and invited Mari to join her in the Beltane dance. Mari’s body shimmered and glistened with a brilliant, argent light that left spots in front of his eyes if he stared directly at her too long.
And he couldn’t help but stare. Mari was magnificent. He saw the Goddess in her and, humbled by her divinity, Nik took to his knees, placing Sora gently on the ground before him. Beside him, Davis did the same, and, after only a slight hesitation, so did Jaxom, Sheena, and O’Bryan.<
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“Clan Weaver, heed my words and hear your Moon Woman.” Mari’s voice was and wasn’t her own. Nik could hear Mari in the words, but the volume was amplified by moonlight magick that filled every syllable. “Sora lives, though she sickens with the same illness that tainted Jaxom and made him do terrible things.”
“The Tribe brought this sickness to us! It’s a sign from the Great Mother that we should not be mixing with Companions!” called a Clanswoman from the shadowy side of the circle.
“How dare you spew hatred and say you’re speaking for the Goddess! The Earth Mother is not spiteful or cruel. She doesn’t turn from those in need.” Mari’s body appeared to grow with righteous indignation. “You are so quick to blame the Companions—almost as quick as the Tribe was to blame me for their problems.” She shook her head in disgust. “Yet there they are, the Companions you’re ready to turn against—to stone to death—on their knees before your Moon Woman.”
“They know we could kill them all and feed them to the swarm!” came the same hard voice as before.
Mari blazed so fiercely that those closest to her shielded their eyes from her light.
“You would have to get through me first!”
Even Nik was shocked by the vehemence in her voice. It didn’t matter that they were a bunch of women with few weapons and no canines to protect them. If the Clan attacked, Nik and the other Companions would be forced to defend themselves, and no matter how carefully they would try to subdue them, Clanswomen would get hurt, very possibly killed. And that would be a sad, sorry beginning for them all.
“Speak wisdom to us, Moon Woman and your Clan will listen,” said the young woman Mari called Isabel, dropping to her knees before Mari as she spoke.
“Yes, Moon Woman, speak,” said an older Clanswoman who joined Isabel, kneeling before Mari.
Mari bowed her head slightly in acknowledgment of the two women’s show of respect. Then she waited, shimmering like a descended star, casting her gaze around the circle.
Like a ripple from a pebble dropped in a pond, the Clan went to their knees. After they were all quiet—all listening expectantly—Mari spoke again, her voice still amplified by the divine power of the moon.
“I believe the Skin Stealers are responsible for a disease that has spread to the creatures in the forest—and even to the Companions and our Clan. We only know a few truths right now. We know it can be contracted from tainted blood or meat—or from being bitten by someone who has been infected. We know the symptoms—cough, aches, nausea, skin eruptions, and, most disturbing of all, there is a marked change in the infected person’s personality. They are filled with a rage that is difficult, if not impossible, to control. That is what happened to Jaxom.”
Nik watched Mari shift her attention to Danita and speak directly to the girl.
“Danita, Jaxom and the other Clansmen who attacked you were all sick with this infection. That is not an excuse. That does not lessen what they did to you. It is simply the truth.”
“Am—am I sick now?” Danita asked in a tremulous voice.
“I believe you were infected when Sora and I found you, but since you’ve been Washed and healed.” Mari’s otherworldly silver eyes regarded the Clan. “We must all be vigilant, especially until Sora and I discover more about this disease. Clanswomen, be wary of any Clansmen. Never go anywhere alone or unarmed. We will get through this—together. We will not fight among ourselves or cast blame—not at one another, and not at Nik and his friends, who are now our friends. Thankfully, the Great Goddess has a response to this terrible disease.” Her gaze found Jaxom. “Clansman, bring the Moon Woman, Sora, to me.”
Nik passed Sora’s unconscious body into Jaxom’s arms, and the young man held her carefully, reverently, making his way slowly to stand in front of Mari. As he got closer and closer, Danita began to tremble, and Nik saw that tears fell silently down the girl’s face. Bast pressed closer to Danita, and Antreas actually put an arm around the girl.
Without Mari directing him to, Jaxom knelt before her, oh, so gently laying Sora on the mossy ground between them. Then he did something that took Nik by surprise. Instead of kneeling beside Sora—with whom the boy was obviously infatuated—Jaxom stood and bowed formally to Mari, speaking in a voice that carried across the circle.
“I must go, Moon Woman.”
Mari said nothing for several moments, and when she did she spoke a single word that echoed across the Gathering.
“Why?”
“I must make amends for what I have done.”
Nik thought Mari would ask how he was going to do that or maybe insist that he stay—for all they knew, Jaxom was the only male Clansman left alive and sane. But she simply bowed her head briefly in acknowledgment, saying, “Go with my blessing, Jaxom. I hope to see you here again on Third Night to be Washed.”
Jaxom bowed again deeply to her before he turned to face the Clan. “I hope someday you can forgive me,” he said. Then he walked out of the circle of light and safety and warmth and disappeared into the dark, silent forest.
When he was gone, all attention returned to Mari. She knelt beside her friend, who appeared to be soundly asleep, curled on her side like a pretty child. Mari raised one arm, palm up and open as if she would cup the moon. Her other hand rested tenderly on Sora’s head.
“Come, silver light—fill me to overflow
So that she who is in my care, your healing touch will know.”
Pure silver light, more perfect than the most beautiful glass or mirror that had ever been salvaged from Port City, cascaded from the sky down into Mari, as if she was a human beacon—a signal fire blazing in the darkness.
“By right of blood and birth channel through me
that which the Earth Mother proclaims my destiny!”
Mari completed the invocation, and the radiance that filled her body glistened briefly, and then Nik could actually see it pouring from Mari into Sora. Almost immediately Sora’s eyes began to move under her closed lids. Her body went rigid, like she’d been stung by something, and then it was as if her bones liquefied and she relaxed against the earth, her lips lifting in a contented smile as her eyelids fluttered open. She contemplated Mari, her expression filled with bliss.
“Oo-o-o-h! You look like an enormous glowworm!”
Just a few feet away, Antreas attempted, and failed, to stifle his laughter.
Nik watched Mari roll her eyes and lower her hand, and like she’d snuffed a candle, the glistening light that had filled her to overflowing went out.
“Thank you would have sufficed,” Mari said sardonically, though Nik could see amusement dancing in her eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“Very loopy headed from that poppy tea,” Sora said, and then she giggled. She sat up, scrutinizing the kneeling crowd with a confused and slightly drunk look. “I obviously missed something.”
“Don’t worry about it. Everything’s fine now,” Mari said. She began to motion for the Clanswomen to rise, but Mari suddenly lost her balance and staggered. Had Rigel not been there to brace her, she would have fallen.
That was all Nik needed. He and Laru were at her side in an instant. “Okay, now you’ve really done too much for one day. I’m taking you home.”
Mari squinted up at him. “What?”
“You called down sunfire and stopped a forest blaze. You danced half the night away. You called down moonlight, admonished an entire Clan, and healed your friend of a terrible disease. Now it’s time someone makes sure you take care of yourself.”
“That someone is you?” Mari attempted a teasing tone, but the paleness of her skin and the dark circles that looked like bruises under her eyes spoke more truly.
“Nik’s right,” Sora said, holding out her hand as if she expected someone to automatically help her up. O’Bryan, who seemed to materialize beside Nik, was suddenly there, taking the young Moon Woman’s hand and lifting her gently to her feet. “Thanks, O’Bryan,” she said before continuing to Mari, “I’m sobering up f
ast. That Washing you did was spectacular. I can’t remember the last time I felt this great. Go on back to our burrow. I’ll stay here and be sure everyone is tucked in for a good, long sleep.”
“But you were just—” Mari began.
“I was just healed by a talented Moon Woman. I’m fine now. Actually, I’m starving. There is stew left, right? And I want a big mug of that ale, too.” Sora glanced toward the center bonfire, just then noticing that the Clan were still on their knees. “Are they in trouble?” she asked Mari quietly.
“Not really. Not anymore. We just had to get past a misunderstanding,” Mari said, keeping her voice low, too.
“I’ll remember this for next Third Night. I like them all kneeling. Makes me feel tall.” Mari shook her head at her friend and gave her a hard look, but Sora laughed and whispered, “I’m kidding. Mostly.” She raised her voice. “Stand! Let’s get back to the eating and drinking and dancing.”
Slowly, the Clan complied, though the joy that had filled them before was muted. The flutes trilled a little melody, coaxing the drums to follow, but no one danced. Instead, the Clan congregated around the center bonfire, scooping steaming stew into carved wooden bowls and separating into small groups to eat and talk.
“What do you want us to do?” O’Bryan asked as he watched Sora filling a bowl.
“Eat if you’re hungry. Drink if you’re thirsty,” Nik said.
“Well, yeah, I figured that, but I meant—where are we staying tonight?”
Before Nik could respond, Mari spoke up. “Where do you want to stay?”
O’Bryan shrugged—Nik thought too nonchalantly, especially when his gaze kept wandering away to find Sora. “I think at least Davis, Antreas, Sheena, and I should stay here. What if those infected males show up? And Rose, Sarah, and Lydia have to stay here and heal—at least for several nights. I don’t think they could make it back to the Tribe, provided they still want to go back.”
“Bast and I will stay,” Antreas said. “If that’s okay with Mari and Sora.”
