by Anne Logston
Val groaned again. Betrayed by his own foster father. There would be no ridding himself of Lahti now. Still, it was a clever move on Dusk’s part. No elf, no matter how angered, would ever harm a ripened female—nor her mate, most likely, especially under the excuse that Val and Lahti were traveling to the Forest Altars or returning to their own clan for the purpose of conceiving a child. No clan would ever dare interfere with conception; that was the one precept held universally throughout the forest, especially now that so many clans had only begun to repopulate their territories after the invasion. Travel to the Forest Altars, however, would not explain their presence this far south when Lahti was clearly a Moon Lake; Val would have to think of some other explanation if they were captured. It hardly mattered, though. No clan would believe that a man would have brought his ripe mate into hostile territory for any malicious purpose.
“All right,” Val said reluctantly. “It was a canny thought on Dusk’s part. And I’d be a fool to think you would return to Inner Heart now, nor would I send you alone. But I beg that you’ll refrain from any needless risk. To take a child, and one who might one day become a ripe female in truth, into such danger is an offense against the Mother Forest Herself. Now, come; let’s be away from here before some Golden Flower patrol hears our speech and finds us.”
Lahti nodded, giving Valann a merry smile as she shouldered her own pack. She let Valann set the direction and the pace, and she stayed quiet except when Valann spoke. She stayed close, too, and Val found this a special kind of torment; the scent Dusk had made for Lahti perfectly simulated the musky aroma of a ripened female, only far stronger, and no male elf in the Heartwood could have failed to respond to it. Valann was hard-pressed to keep his attention on moving quietly through the forest.
Valann was glad for his day’s inactivity, but he knew Lahti had had far less time for rest, and the effort of constant vigilance and stealth was exhausting. Valann stopped halfway through the night to rest briefly, and Lahti crouched panting beside him in the small thicket where Valann had taken shelter.
“Have we crossed into Swiftfoot territory yet?” Lahti murmured.
Valann shook his head.
“We could easily have missed the markers,” he said. “But I think not. I think Golden Flower lands must be larger than what we’ve crossed. Can you continue?”
“Oh, yes,” Lahti said, a little too hastily.
“We’ll have to camp in a few hours, in any wise,” Valann said. “We must rest before we start across Swiftfoot lands, and that must be during daylight when Swiftfoots sleep.”
“Of course,” Lahti agreed, but Val fancied he could hear a little dismay in her voice.
However tired Lahti might be, however, as the night continued Val had to acknowledge that Lahti’s night sight was keener than his, her hearing slightly more acute, and it was not long before she was leading him rather than the reverse. Several times Lahti quickly pulled him into shelter behind bushes or trees, and it was often moments before Val heard the footsteps that had warned her of the approach of a patrol. Once they were forced to hide in the trees for nearly an hour as a wide patrol stopped to rest almost directly beneath them. The appearance of the patrol told Valann that they were still in Golden Flower territory, but as this was a wide patrol, equipped for days outside their village, they must be very near the border of Swiftfoot lands.
They proceeded a little farther, far enough to be certain that they were outside the circuit of the Golden Flower wide patrol, before setting up a camp. Val was delighted to learn that Lahti, who had left Inner Heart less precipitously than he, had brought more supplies; they couldn’t risk hunting in hostile territories, let alone building the fire to cook their catch. They were too tired to savor the travel cakes of dried berries, dried meat, and acorn meal pounded together and bound with rich melted fat or the trail sweets of nuts and sap-sugar; they gulped down their hasty meal and crawled wearily into the sleeping furs to snatch a few precious hours of rest before sunrise when they’d continue on.
As exhausted as he was, however, Valann found that sleep eluded him. Lahti’s warmth curled against him was comforting, sweetly familiar, and yet an exquisite torment. Her scent and the warm softness of her skin where it touched his were the keenest tortures. The nights that Valann had spent in the arms of Doeanna and other women of his clan might as well have never been; his body was as hungry as a youth straight from passage. Moving with infinite caution, Val stroked a lock of Lahti’s straight black hair that had fallen over his tunic, then brought the soft strands to his lips. By the Mother Forest, her scent was more intoxicating than the finest moondrop wine, and what he’d give to quench that thirst!
Lahti murmured in her sleep and rolled over, pillowing her head on Val’s shoulder, her warm body stretched against the length of his and her arm thrown over his chest. Val almost groaned in agony even as his arms reflexively folded around her. Oh, by the Mother Forest, this was asking more of him than he could bear!
Then Valann froze. Was there a new roundness in Lahti’s slender hips beneath his forearm? And was—by the Mother Forest, yes, he could feel the slight swell of budding new breasts pressing against his side. At last Lahti was moving toward adulthood, however slowly. Surely it could not be more than a few weeks before she would be ready to undergo her own passage! Ah, and then there would be an end to waiting. Perhaps Lahti would agree to become his mate. Val had discussed it with her before, and Lahti had only laughed, protesting that they were both still children, and that even discounting that, they were far too young to think of such a thing. But once she passed into adulthood, she might be persuaded to change her mind, especially if she ripened and conceived. Val would have to speak to Dusk so that Lahti could be examined. If the Gifted One thought Lahti showed any signs of imminent ripening, why, they’d have to begin preparing for her passage immediately so as not to waste her time of fertility!
But the prospect of Lahti’s adulthood perhaps weeks from now made it no easier to bear the torture of her warm flesh pressing against his here and now while she was still forbidden to him. Valann sighed again, grinding his teeth in frustration even as he buried his face in the softness of Lahti’s hair.
Lahti rolled over and leaned on Val’s chest, opening her eyes. She sighed, too, and smiled, reaching to run her fingertips through the thin growth of coarse, curling hair that covered Val’s chin.
“You were right,” she said. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have come. I was thinking of you, but—but perhaps I was thinking too much of myself, too, of my loneliness while you were gone and my fear for your safety.”
“I can’t fault you for that,” Val said, chuckling. “I think of you too much on occasion as well.”
“Yes, you do.” Lahti shook her head, not smiling now. “You have less than two decades, Valann. You’re too young to have such strong feelings for me.”
“And I was too young to pass into adulthood,” Val reminded her. He breathed in the rich scent of her hair and groaned. “You smell so good. I wish Dusk had found another way to keep you safe.”
“I wish I could be a woman for you in truth as well as seeming,” Lahti said regretfully. She sat up. “It’s almost dawn.”
“I know.” Val sat up, too, relieved and at the same time sorry to lose the contact between his body and Lahti’s. “We should leave now. The Swiftfoots will be making their camps and returning to their village. With luck we can make it entirely through Swiftfoot territory and reach the edge of the forest today.”
Lahti nodded and helped Val bundle up their sleeping skins. They could travel faster by day; even with their keen night vision, it was easier to see in the sunlight, and they were secure, too, in the knowledge that the Swiftfoots with their oversensitive eyes would not be about by day. The Swiftfoot territory was small—because of their relative helplessness by day, the neighboring Blue-eyes had captured most of the Swiftfoots’ lands—and Val and Lahti were crossing the narrowest section of that territory. With a quick and steady pace,
they saw the forest thinning ahead of them by early afternoon, and shortly thereafter, Val and Lahti were looking for the first time in their lives on truly clear and open land.
In the forest, elves thought of distance in terms of days’ or hours’ travel—a relative measurement at best, as travel varied with the weather, the amount of undergrowth, the directness of the route, the need for stealth and concealment, and whether the travelers were on foot or mounted on deer. Looking out across flat land where one could see what seemed an impossible distance to the dark, snaking line of what must be the Brightwater River, the world seemed unfathomably huge. The direct sunlight, unaltered through the thick canopy of leaves, was unbearably bright, and Val and Lahti blinked tears from their eyes several times before they became accustomed to the light. To their dismay, however, despite the greater distance over which they could see, there were no signs of any humans or of Valann’s sister.
“Perhaps they’ve not yet come this far,” Lahti suggested hopefully.
“Dusk said they had already passed the eastern edge,” Val said, troubled. “From here we can see across the whole southern edge of the forest, or nearly so. We would surely see them if they’d come around from the east.”
“There’s their road,” Lahti said, pointing to a strip of earth worn bare of grass as a forest trail was worn bare of undergrowth, only far wider. “Dare we venture out to read the traces there? We could so easily be seen.”
“But we could see farther as well,” Val speculated. He shrugged at last, although the very thought made him tremble. “We’ll try it. From this distance, if the Blue-eyes see us, they’ll think us Swiftfoots.”
“In the full daylight, and out there where nothing will obstruct their view?” Lahti said doubtfully. “And even so, might they not shoot at us anyway?”
Val shook his head.
“We’re too far from the border of their lands for their arrows and spears,” he said. “A short foray to study the trail, no more than a few moments, should be safe enough. And if they are close enough to see us, the Blue-eyes will be close enough to see the band on your arm.”
There was no disputing that, and Lahti made no further argument. After scanning the outer limits of the forest once more as best they could, Val and Lahti stepped at last into the open, trying to look in every direction at once as they made their way to the road. Val fought against sudden panic, the inexplicable certainty that the obscenely great sky was going to fall down on them where they stood, forcing his feet forward one at a time, smelling Lahti’s fear-rank sweat. It seemed an impossibly great distance, but once in the open there was nothing to be gained by turning back, so they continued onward, keeping as low to the ground as they could. They stopped at the edge of the hard-packed soil, eyeing the ruts and tracks curiously.
“So many scents,” Lahti marveled, shivering nervously even as she sniffed at the crescent-shaped horse tracks. “I smell beasts and humans and wood and many other things. They passed this way not long ago. The tracks lead toward the city.”
“But can we be certain this is the correct group of humans, my sister with them?” Val asked worriedly. “Perhaps it was other humans traveling to the city.”
“If Dusk’s vision is to be believed, and your sister has already passed the eastern edge of the forest, then these must be the traces of her travel,” Lahti said. “She must have already passed around the southern edge, too. She may have reached the city already.”
There was nothing to do but return to the relative safety and concealment of the edge of the forest. There they crouched in the bushes as their hearts gradually slowed and fear subsided, chewing on dried meat and disappointment.
“We should return to Inner Heart,” Val said slowly. “Rowan and Dusk may have news for us, or new instruction.”
“We’ve come so far,” Lahti protested. “We’ve passed through hostile territories once. If we return to Inner Heart and then must come back again later, we’re doubly at risk. If these clans see the traces of our passage through their land, they’ll double their patrols and watch their boundaries closely.”
“We would not be at risk,” Val corrected pointedly. “To travel to the western edge of the forest I must pass through either Blue-eyes’ lands or Hawk’s Eye’s. We know the Blue-eyes are hostile and the Hawk’s Eyes likely so. I think Rowan and Dusk will reconsider allowing you to accompany me. And I’d ask you to reconsider, too,” Val added softly, touching Lahti’s shoulder. “Dusk’s scent may keep you safe from harm, but that scent and your presence are a torment and a distraction I can’t afford.”
“Valann—” Lahti laid her hand over his, her dark eyes for once serious. “I think we should continue on to the western edge of the forest now. Dusk spoke of danger. I think we can’t spare the days it would take to return to Inner Heart and then to come back, if the danger Dusk spoke of is to your sister.”
Val groaned and rubbed his eyes, still dazzled by all that daylight. By the Mother Forest, what was he to do? Alone he would have risked continuing on to the western edge of the forest immediately. But there was Lahti to consider, and they were both so tired. There were not enough supplies for the two of them, either, even with what Lahti had brought, for the longer journey, not if they were to have food to eat on their return journey to Inner Heart. Hunting in hostile territories would be doubly dangerous. Alone, Val might have enough food, but there was no question of sending Lahti all the way back to Inner Heart on foot alone. Yet Lahti was right; if Dusk’s vision was to be believed—and why were they here if not?—there was indeed no time to return to Inner Heart. Oh, for a beast-speaker to send a message to Dusk for confirmation!
“Very well,” Val said reluctantly. “We’ll continue on. But if I decide that you must stay out of Blue-eyes’ and Hawk’s Eye’s territories, you must do it, and wait for me to return. Will you promise me that?”
Now it’s Lahti’s turn to consider. At last she nodded.
“I dislike it, but if my safety makes you stronger, I’ll agree,” she said. “If you say I must, I’ll remain in Jumping Mouse territory, east of Hawk’s Eye’s. Most of the Jumping Mouse lands are all but abandoned; I should have no difficulty there.”
Val nodded grimly.
“Very well, then.”
“I suppose that means we must start back across Swiftfoot lands immediately, while there’s still some daylight left,” Lahti said, sighing miserably.
“I fear so,” Val said, sighing, too. The afternoon was well advanced already; they’d never be able to make it back to Golden Flower territory before dark. Then they’d still have Golden Flower territory to cross anglewise, heading west, during the night. Still, the alternative—to cross that strip of bare land and follow the Brightwater River, out of range of Blue-eyes’ arrows, and hope to make their way back to the forest past the city to Hawk’s Eye’s lands—was unthinkable. They could possibly avoid the human sentries and patrols, even creep back into the forest safely, if they were careful, but the mere thought of all that naked land, with no cover or shelter to bolt to in case of danger—no, Val’s whole spirit utterly rebelled. Once he’d thought of the bare lands as merely an overlarge clearing. He’d never realized—never imagined!
And I blithely agreed to cross all that open space alone and walk boldly up to that city of humans, he marveled to himself.
They moved as quickly as they could while still maintaining some caution and vigilance. Near sunset, however, Lahti pulled Valann to a halt.
“We must stop,” she panted. “We’re too tired. We’re making sounds and leaving a trail.”
Val shook his head, but not in disagreement. Lahti was right. They were still far from the Golden Flower border, and it was almost completely dark. Swiftfoot patrols would be out now, and Val and Lahti were too weary to outrun them; moreover, their tired, noisy stumbling was sure to bring pursuit. There was nothing to do but make a camp, hopefully one secure enough that they could stay for the remainder of the night and possibly through the day, too,
and then start afresh.
“There,” Lahti breathed, pointing. Val had to look twice before he saw what Lahti meant—a small cave-like space formed by the roots of a large tree, so cleverly concealed by undergrowth that it was barely visible.
Lahti sniffed around the entrance, then carefully parted the brush; the space had probably been used as some animal’s den at one time, but it was so long empty that there was not even a scent left. Lahti and Val crawled inside and spread their sleeping furs over the bottom of the den, making sure the foliage was pulled back to conceal the opening.
“We should be safe enough here,” Val said. “We’ll take a rest and then start anew after daybreak.”
“So long,” Lahti said unhappily. “So much time wasted.”
“A good deal more time will be wasted if we’re killed by the Golden Flowers, or captured and must be ransomed,” Val reminded her. “At any rate, best we’re well rested in case we must continue far on foot before stopping again. Go ahead, eat and sleep, and I’ll go outside and make certain we’ve left no trail and our shelter is well hidden.”
Lahti was too tired to argue, and by the time Valann returned from concealing their tracks for some distance around their shelter, she was fast asleep, a half-eaten travel cake still clasped in her hand. Val gently put the travel cake away and curled up beside her, too tired to eat. This time, despite Lahti’s warm presence and her scent, Val had no difficulty sleeping.
Val roused briefly twice: once jolting awake from a dream of his sister, and once when a Swiftfoot patrol passed a short distance away. The second time he awoke, it was full dark, but the moon had risen, as Val saw when he carefully peered out through the concealing foliage.
The Swiftfoot patrol paused not far from his shelter, and Val’s anxiety was almost obliterated by pity. The Swiftfoots were thin and worn and harried-looking, jumping at the slightest noise. Likely the constant conflict with the Blue-eyes had chased most of the good game from their lands, forcing the Swiftfoots to relocate their village frequently within their territory. It had never before occurred to Valann that perhaps other clans were not prospering as comfortably as Inner Heart.
