by Candy Nicks
* * * *
"He's one of your own. Please don't abandon him."
Naima raised her eyes to the pale moons hanging low in the sky. A red glow streaking the mountain ridge signalled the dawn. The moons would give way to the sun, the night to the day. And so it went on, age after age. Life was but a brief journey on this plane of existence. How many moon-rises and sun-sets would she be allowed to see as she made her way along the path set out for her?
"Let him have this. Please, Goddess, let us have this."
Her whole body hummed with anticipation, her muscles tensed as if geared for a fight. She'd come to a junction in the road and chosen her path without hesitation, but Finn was no Kandar. She might yet be required to sacrifice her father's blessing in order to be with him. Perhaps forced to leave the Settlement. How would they keep his secret in a place where everyone lived so close?
She wrapped the scarf around her head, and opened the wooden gate set in an overgrown corner of the garden wall. Its rusty hinges creaked with disuse. Part of the old-house, an entrance rarely-used these days. The original wooden building was now a store-room. In front of her, calm and serene with its pale stone and lead-paned windows, stood the symmetrical edifice of the new-house.
She wanted it all. Her father's approval. Leave to love the man of her choice. To live in a house like this, here in the Settlement. Fill it with children. Naima's giddy optimism faltered. Would children with Finn even be possible? The thought sobered her. Best get inside before she became too carried away with this fantasy future.
"Naima?"
She almost screamed aloud at the unexpected voice. Breathing frantically, a hand clamped over her mouth, she looked around for the source. Please the Gods, not her father.
"Naima, it's me. What are you doing out at this time of the morning?"
Carine was on her knees, in the shade of the large oaken tree, hands clasped in prayer. In front of her, a spring bubbled from a rock. On the rock, Naima made out a small jewelled clasp. Carine tapped her forehead, mouth, and breast in turn, to signify respect for the Goddess. The clasp she placed carefully under the flow of water.
"I couldn't sleep. So ... umm ... I went for a walk.” Naima glanced from Carine, to the offering. “I didn't mean to disturb your prayers."
"No.” Carine rose and smoothed out her night-robe. “The Goddess remains silent, no matter how many offerings I make. Would you like to sit awhile, and talk? Let's watch the dawn rise. I always find it inspiring. And I'll re-braid your hair for you."
"Oh.” Naima touched her messy plait, hoping the truth didn't show on her heated face. She moved, with resignation, to the shaded bench and perched on the edge. “Father is asleep?"
"I expect so. He's well used to my nocturnal wanderings.” Carine sighed deeply and glanced sideways at her. “You went to see our visitor?"
"Yes.” Naima fiddled with her scarf, feeling as though hundreds of eyes were watching her. Carine laid a reassuring hand on her knee.
"I heard you go. How is he?"
"I think he's turned the corner. His was breathing more easily."
"It's all right, Naima. I can see what's happening. You don't have to pretend with me. Did he speak?” Deftly, she split Naima's hair into three hanks and re-braided it
"He can't help you.” Naima turned her head to give Carine better access, panic beating in her breast.
"I communed with him, Naima. I know what he is."
"He's a man, hurt and confused. One who dragged himself this far to have a normal life. You can't begrudge him that."
"No.” Carine tied off the plait. “I never would."
"He couldn't help you, even if he was a Lupine. You said the Cleansing Stones were myths. The Great Fire, does it exist? How would he find it? And how would he survive it?"
"Legend says it's the volcano, at Transivar. I know he won't help. He told me."
He'd already said no? Naima felt a pang of relief, followed by guilt at her selfishness. The bubble burst before her eyes. Carine's claim to Finn far superseded her own.
"We both want him,” she said. “But, rest assured, I would never do anything to jeopardise your eternal soul.” She added a tentative smile, hoping it would make the words more convincing. “I mean it. I'll probably end up marrying Kandar and make father proud."
Carine laughed softly and pulled the shawl over her shoulders to ward off the chill of the morning. “Listen to the two of us. We sound like horse-traders arguing over a prize mare. The signs are already in place for this particular drama. I don't know how it will play out, but neither of us should get our hopes up."
"I have free will. I'll make my own destiny."
"You sound so much like your father. The Goddess will make her desires know in the fullness of time. For now, we should concentrate on practical matters. Has Finn told you anything of his circumstances? Those blast-gun burns could mean he's being tracked by bounty-hunters."
"I dreamed of a baby. Two men. They told the mother her baby had died.” Naima frowned. “Who would want to kill him? I feel sure he's no danger to anyone. Wouldn't he be more valuable alive, than dead?"
"All I know of the Lupines is of the legends. They were the messengers of the Goddess. Her voice on the mortal plane. They quarrelled and she withdrew her protection. He has wolf in him and that makes him dangerous, I suppose."
"No.” Naima shook her head. “He's not dangerous. He's not."
"I talked with his spirit,” Carine said. “He's more than what you see lying there. He has intelligence and determination. Whether he accepts it or not, he is a direct link to the Goddess. She will use him as she sees fit, and he will obey."
"If he chooses not to?” Naima's voice faded under the onslaught of Carine's logic.
Carine blew out a long breath and stood. “Come,” she said. “The night-birds have flown home to roost. Let's get inside before the household wakes. Whatever Finn chooses to do will be part of the Goddess's plan and no amount of interfering on our part will change that."
"I hope he's here for you.” Naima stood too. She wrapped her arms around Carine, pulling her close. Her scent, the softness of Carine's unbound hair, were a familiar comfort. Poor Carine, she masked her pain so bravely. Naima could only strive to match her in courage.
"But for your sacrifice, Father would be dead now,” she said. “And I would not have this new life. I will repay my debt to you, if it means giving up everything I hold dear."
Carine accepted the comfort and returned the embrace. Around them, the shrill chorus of the dawn-birds started in earnest. “You are your father's daughter, no mistake. Brave and honourable. Come, we've talked this into the ground. It's our lot to both want Finn, and to feel the guilt for that. Let's leave it in the hands of the Goddess and go inside."
Honourable? After trying to dump Kandar on Lia? Honour had no place there. Thank the Gods she'd seen reason. Yawning widely, Naima pushed back thoughts of her comfortable bed and concentrated on the day ahead. Despite everything, the life of the Settlement went on.
In the kitchen, Ancel, clad only in a pair of loose pants, sat at the wooden table, hands wrapped around a steaming mug. He blinked at them, raising his eyebrows in question when he saw Naima fully dressed.
"I was at prayer and I woke Naima. She came down to see who'd made the noise.” Carine lifted the kettle and busied herself making two more drinks. “Did we disturb you?"
Naima flashed Carine a grateful glance and slid onto the bench seat, opposite her father. He wore his usual expression when confronted by the women in his life—mildly confused, and very resigned.
"No,” he said, finger-combing back the hair he insisted on keeping short as a testament to his new life. “I was thinking about security. I want to double the guard, remind people to be vigilant."
"Because of Finn?"
"He has a name now?"
Naima refused to meet his eye, instead feigning interest in a scattering of crumbs littering the table. “In his delirium, he mentioned th
e name Finn."
"If he has a name, he has a past. The bounty-hunters won't be far behind, and I refuse to risk the lives of our people for one man."
"Naima would never ask you to.” Carine pressed a hot mug into Naima's hand and then moved to stand by Ancel. Naima watched the way her father fell into step with the woman he loved, pushing back his chair so she could slide onto his lap, nuzzling his face into her hair. Carine always knew how to diffuse a situation with humour, a look, or a touch. Already, Ancel's mind was on other things.
Grateful for the distraction, Naima slipped away mumbling that she needed more sleep. She stopped at the doorway, to look back on the two of them enjoying the peace of each other's arms. They deserved to be together for more than this lifetime; something they would only achieve if Carine found a way to escape the Pit.
Naima climbed the stairs to her room knowing the time had come for her to start making sacrifices for those she loved.
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Chapter 6
To distance herself, she needed to turn Finn's care over to someone else. Someone less involved than Carine. Brynn, perhaps?
She spotted him, leaning on a wooden fence-railing, perusing the corralled brood-mares. Seated on the top-rail, one to each side of him, Larissa and Tallin laughed and pointed at the antics of the cavorting foals. Brynn spotted her and grabbed the children, one under each arm, to set them down.
"Go fetch some hay and we'll feed the foals,” he said. “Which of you can run faster?"
The two children set off with competitive shrieks of glee. Brynn gave her a nod and turned back to the fence.
Naima mirrored his stance, grateful for the way he always offered support without judgement. Life had made him unusually perceptive.
"You want to talk about our guest?"
"Finn. His name is Finn."
"Is he a runaway?"
"I expect so. Aren't we all running away from something?"
He nudged her with his hip. “What's this, a philosophy lesson?"
She laughed dutifully. “Bocado's been busy this season,” she said, eyeing the foals sired by her father's favourite war-horse. “Brynn, how did you get your limp?"
Brynn raised his eyebrows at the double-about turn. “Your father gave it to me. I thought you knew."
Hardly surprised, she turned to him. Ancel had allowed Brynn into the Settlement only after Carine had pleaded his case. Despite the years, the tension between the two men remained thick enough to slice with a sword.
"Will you tell me why?"
"Let's just say we got into a fight over something we both wanted."
"Carine?” Naima held up her hand. “No, you don't need to go into detail. I know you don't like speaking of those days. You still love her, don't you?"
"She saved my life. It's not the kind of thing you can turn on and off at will. What does this have to do with our friend?"
Naima regarded him with a new-found respect. For sharing with her, and having the courage to come to the Settlement knowing that Carine would be here too, with Ancel.
"You're starting to care for him? More than you should?"
He didn't press for an answer. After a long silence, she felt a hand patting her shoulder and covered it with her own.
"It's hard to explain. Complicated. I foolishly imagined he was here to make my life better. But he has a life of his own somewhere. Now he's healing, I need to pull back, and I was hoping you'd help."
"I'll help any way I can, but I doubt he wants to wake up every morning and see my pretty face starting down at him. Has your father warned you off?"
"No, just something I have to do.” Tears stung her eyes. She wiped them away, annoyed with her weakness. “How do you manage? Knowing how you feel about Carine. Being married to Song."
"I love them both. And I'm lucky as hell that Song can deal with it all. She's more than I deserve. Hey kids!"
Tallin and Larissa appeared dragging a bale of hay between them, faces beaming. Like two halves of a single soul they lived, each for the other, their future already set. Naima prayed the road ahead would be smooth for them and life would allow them their dreams.
Brynn hunkered down to pull handfuls of hay from the bale. “Watch your fingers,” he warned, giving each child a handful with which to entice the foals. He stood up, brushing spikes of hay from his pants. “It's like you said. Complicated. The heart wants what it wants, but it can't always have it. So it finds a way to live with what it has. Does that answer your question?"
"Kind of. You'll look in on Finn for me?"
"Sure. Does this have something to do with Carine?"
"Why do you ask?"
"She's been away with the fairies since he turned up. Ancel's watching her like a hawk. Something's up. If I can help..."
"Thanks.” Should she reveal Carine's secret? Brynn would understand, although it wouldn't change anything. Instead, Naima took a handful of hay and held it out to a mare that had been standing hopefully by. The children giggled at some private joke. She envied them their innocence and their certainty.
"Is life always a compromise, Brynn?"
"Mostly. All you can do is give it a try. Otherwise you'll never know what you could have achieved."
"It can't be that simple."
"Never said it was. Only you can work out what's troubling you. I've seen the rough end of life, been through some stuff. If I can help, well, you know where I am.” He glanced at his wrist chronometer. “Need to get these two tykes back to the schoolroom, and me back to work. You'll be okay?"
"I'll survive."
No one actually died of a broken heart and life without love was still a life. She shook her head and laughed. The mare nudged her impatiently. Far too young to be so cynical.
"I'm not an old maid yet,” she told the horse. “Who knows what life has in store for me?"
Out here in the daylight, with the bustle of the Settlement all around her, she felt re-connected with her former life, back on track. A little distance would be a good thing. A chance to put Finn and her runaway dreams into proper perspective. More pressing was her meeting with Kandar. As an Eagle warrior, he would expect a full and carefully-considered explanation of her refusal to marry him.
She remembered Finn's broken manacle. If she didn't replace it, there would be questions. And, knowing her father, Finn would be caged for their protection. Possibly ejected from the Settlement to take his chances in the wider world. A prize like him would be a magnet for all the scum of the planet. That made him a danger to them all.
On her way to the armoury she had the awful thought that Finn might have already taken advantage of his freedom and be prowling the Settlement, or long gone. She broke into a run. So much for acceptance.
One more visit. Then, pull back and let fate decide the rest. She could do that, if she saw him one more time.
* * * *
The years had taught him patience. Throughout his captivity he'd watched, and waited, planning his escape with an intelligence they'd never credited him with. Weaning himself off the sedation and drugs that had kept him trapped in a world of his own. Keeping up the façade of a beast, hand fed and tamed by captivity. They'd grown careless and forgotten that the beast, which had shown itself on demand for the public's viewing pleasure, was only a glimpse of what he kept inside.
Finn watched the door with the unblinking eyes of his wolf, using up energy that should have been saved for healing. Willing it to open and reveal Naima. She would come again. He repeated it in his head, as if his thoughts might make her appear.
Fool. He scolded himself for such naïve optimism. Pushed back the wolf. Immediately took up watch again. What reason did she have to stay away? He'd frightened her, but surely they'd mended that bridge before parting?
They'd done more than mend bridges. He felt himself stirring and hardening beneath the sheet, craving the comfort of her touch. When the door opened, his heart leapt with excitement, only to almost skid to a halt at the sig
ht of the old woman who crept, uncertainly, into the room. Behind her came a man in the winter of his life, a blast-gun in his hands. Finn's ardour withered and his hackles rose at the sound of the weapon's low whine.
The man made a dismissive sound. The woman scolded him and told him to be quiet. Fear and distrust radiated from them, making Finn's wolf coil and tense. He kept his eyes closed, hoping they wouldn't spot the broken chain hidden by the sheet. For Naima's sake, he'd resisted the urge to take advantage of his freedom, but if cornered he had no idea how he'd react.
"He's asleep. What am I supposed to do now?"
The man moved nearer to the bed. “Leave him be,” he said. “He's chained, and we've both got better things to do. Ancel's worried about bounty-hunters, and I want to go and help on the walls. I think he sometimes forgets this is a Settlement, not a bolt-hole for every sob story on the planet."
"Shh.” The woman's tone was sharp and indignant. “Don't you go talking like that. He let you in, didn't he? You'll get us thrown out of here. There's nowhere else will take us in. Not with your past."
"Enough. That's all done with.” The door creaked and Finn heard the woman's skirts rustle as she brushed past the bed. “Leave him to sleep, woman,” the man said with more than a hint of impatience. “He doesn't need a guard if he's chained and there's no one here."
"Poor thing.” Finn heard the woman tutting quietly. “Men can be so cruel."
"And how do you know he didn't deserve this? He might be a thief, a murderer.” The man laughed. “He's got the look of someone I knew way back. Now he would have sold his own grandmother for profit. If this one's a runaway, bounty-hunters will be hot on his tail. He's trouble, mark my words."
Holding back the wolf took all of Finn's reserves. When the door closed on the bickering couple, leaving him alone once more, he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, his chest trembling. After the kindness he'd encountered here, their words had cut him deeply. Too near to the truth—he was more of a danger to them than they'd ever know. His whole body shook. He'd let down his guard far too soon. Revealed himself to people who would once again use him for their own ends.
