Adel hovered nearby until the seers allowed her to sit with her sister for a while, but when Uriel's discomfort grew they ushered her out again.
“She needs to rest and remain calm,” Adel's mother, a handsome, russet-haired woman, told her. “Bringing a child into this world is delicate, like drawing a root from the earth without breaking it.”
“I could learn by watching.”
“There will be other children born,” Freia said, the lidded eyes of her lynx pelt headdress seeming to regard Adel with a sternness that matched the den mother's own. “Now do as I say, girl. We must not be distracted while we tend your sister.”
“May I enter, Den Mother?” Carim's anxious voice called from behind Adel. “I should be with her when our child is born.”
“No. Wait here with Adel.” Something in Freia's voice seemed strained. Fearful, even. Perhaps it was simply worry for her daughter, but it was rare the den mother ever lost her composure.
A handful of others gathered outside the inner chamber, sitting quietly in the near-darkness as they listened to the murmur of voices and Uriel's occasional pained cries from within. Before long Ulric arrived, striding past the rest of his pack and entering the cave without pausing to ask permission. The alpha respected the secrets of the seers, but when it came to his eldest daughter there were some traditions that even he was willing to ignore.
Time passed, and the sound of Uriel's voice became faint. The musty cave air seemed to grow thick and cloying. Any conversation between the group outside had long since dried up. Carim paced back and forth, his brow greased with sweat.
After what seemed like hours, Adel could endure the wait no longer. Slipping into the shadows, she squirmed around the rocks at the edge of the cave until she was close to the entrance of the inner chamber, straining her ears to make out the hushed voices of the seers. Two of them were close by, separate from the others, and conversing in low tones that brought a sharp jab of fear to Adel's stomach when she made out what they were saying.
“How much longer can we wait?” one said.
“Freia already knows, but it is her own daughter. I told her Uriel was too young.”
“Shall I tell the others?”
“No.” A grim pause followed. “The child is lost, but she may wake still.”
Adel sat hunched in the dark, a cold sensation seeping through her body as her mind tried to make sense of what she had just heard. How long had it been since she last heard Uriel's voice? Frozen with fear, she began to tremble, fighting against the horrible thoughts that assailed her. She would hear her sister's voice again soon. At any moment she would call out. The seers would take care of her. If anyone could nurse her back to health, it was their mother.
But as Adel's hands quivered against the cold rocks, even the conversation of the seers fell silent. No one spoke. The silence seemed like it would last forever. Then, small and muffled, she heard the sound of her mother crying.
Fear overtook her, forcing the girl's frozen body to move. She stood up and ran into the chamber, only to find herself blocked by her father's broad body as she thudded against his chest.
“No,” he growled, his voice holding the same pain Adel felt rushing through her own heart. “You don't need to see.”
“Where is Uriel?!” she cried out, struggling to get past the alpha as he held her tight by the arms.
“Adel, stop. Please.”
“Let me see her!”
Ulric's face was barely visible in the dim light as he fell to one knee, squeezing his daughter by the elbows so tight it hurt. “Your sister has joined our ancestors in the spirit world,” he whispered.
“She hasn't!”
“Please, Adel, not now.” Her father did not weep. He simply sounded tired. More weary than she had ever heard him, the alpha's granite determination absent from his voice.
“You did this!” she exclaimed. “She never wanted this; you did! You made her have a mate, you made her have a child!” For the first time in Adel's life, she no longer felt any twinge of fear as she glared up into her father's darkened eyes. There was only anger, hot fury blocking out the terrible hollow that was opening up inside her.
“Not now, girl,” Ulric repeated. “Not now.”
“Why not?! You are alpha, so everyone does what you say, even when it means they die!”
“The fates are cruel—”
“You are!” She hit him in the chest with both hands. “I won't do what you say, never again!”
“Alpha?” Carim's tearful voice crept over Adel's shoulder for the second time that day.
In an instant Ulric's grip hardened, and his hand struck out against his daughter's cheek in a painful slap. “Never speak to me that way again, Adel, never,” he rasped. “Not at a time like this. Have you no respect for your sister?”
“More than you ever did,” she spat back, dry-eyed as she yanked herself free with a burst of strength, the hot throb of her cheek only fuelling the girl's rage. Before her father could say another word, she turned and ran, pushing past the group that had gathered at the chamber's entrance as Carim wailed and began to sob somewhere behind her. The coals of a fire stung her bare feet as she flew haphazardly across the cave housing the rest of the pack, tearing herself free of the concerned hands that tried to grab her until she reached the screen of hide and branches blocking off the den's entrance. Freezing cold air hit her as she squeezed past and stumbled out into the snow, wading through thick drifts that came up to her knees until her legs were numb and heavy. The wind whipped strands of dark hair into her face, cutting through the furs she wore until she was chilled to the bone.
Uriel.
Where would she go now? Who would she turn to to ask her questions? She still refused to accept it. The hollow within her breast filled with anger at her father, determination to keep on running, intense pain as the cold bit into her pale skin and sapped the strength from her body. Every emotion Adel could feel she poured into that hollow, but it was like trying to fill a woven basket with water. Nothing could replace what was gone. The chasm was too deep, its pain too vast. And yet the girl refused to fall down and cry. She could be as strong, as wise, as determined as anyone. Uriel had said so. All she had to do was try.
“Uriel,” she whispered, dragging her legs through the snow until she stumbled, fell, and hauled herself back upright. Twilight shone through the distant clouds, bathing the snowswept landscape red as it stretched on toward the horizon. As she neared the point of collapse, Adel felt something else rising inside her, something strange and new. A twisting of her spirit. A strange otherness that swept in to take control of her thoughts, sharpening her senses and tightening the world around her as every scent on the cold wind suddenly became painfully distinct. A cry of pain left her lips as her body surged and changed shape, releasing the dormant wolf that had been twined to her spirit since birth. Her clothing did not peel gracefully into a coat of fur as it had when Uriel always changed shape, rather it ripped and tore as Adel's shoulders broadened and her bones cracked, the beast bursting from within her like a geyser erupting through rock. Finding purchase in the snow with her clumsy paws, she began to run, the wolf's simple thoughts overtaking her own. The wiry young animal, black fur streaked with highlights of white, tore across the plains faster than the packmates chasing after her. She ran until they gave up the pursuit and disappeared into the distance, leaving her free to run until her anger grew cold and the hollow pulled her back in.
The wolf receded, leaving her numb and naked in the snow as she stumbled to her knees. She wept then, though the tears were few, and shed in silence. She had loved Uriel more than anyone, yet she would not break down and sob like Carim. She held on to the thoughts of her sister, squeezing them tight, drawing them close. They were too precious to ever forget. She would not let go. She refused. Her father and the others would build her a pyre, say their goodbyes, relinquish another daughter to the spirit world, but Adel would carry Uriel's spirit with her forever. She made a prom
ise to herself that day as she shuddered in the snow. She would keep her sister alive within her. All of the things she had hoped for, all of the desires they had shared. Adel would never forget them, and she would never allow anyone to make her.
—4—
Seers From Afar
The hollow within her never truly healed, and neither did Adel's determination to fill it. Gone were the days of childish play with the others, for she spoke little with Karel in the absence of their elder sister, replaced instead by the fierce spirit of her newborn wolf and the lessons of the seerhood. Day and night Adel learned, forgoing sleep many a time as she stayed up till dawn within the shelter of stone that served as a place for the seers to practice their rituals in private. She stitched animal flesh until her technique was flawless, then applied her skills to the wounded warriors when they returned from fighting in the north. By the year's end there was not a single plant from her father's territory or the land beyond that she did not know the name of. By the advent of the winter after, she had memorised every single one of their uses. Next, the spirit world called, and her mother taught her how to burn the correct herbs or taste the right berries to induce a spirit trance, pulling her mind loose from the physical world and revealing the secrets of the realm that lay beyond.
Dreams and visions took on new meaning. What was a premonition of the future, and what was simply a mischief played upon her mind by the spirits of her ancestors? She learned of the great moon wolf Syr, spirit of the night, mother to all their people, and how her tricks and cunning were the source of every seer's power.
At the behest of her father and Alpha Kotal, all the clans of the Moon People gathered to meet every summer from that year on, travelling beyond the southern mountains to the sacred meeting place where rivalries were put aside and enemies stood as equals. Time and again the two alphas argued, each trying to force the other into submission and bring an end to the bloody rivalry that had grown between them, but Kotal was a fierce old warrior who prided himself on never having bent his knee to another, and Ulric refused to accept any compromise that might weaken his clan's standing.
At Adel's insistence, her father permitted her to begin travelling to the gatherings along with him, though it was clear that he did so only to flaunt her rapidly advancing skills to the other packs. Uriel had held the promise of growing into a den mother like no other, and with her gone her father's future standing in the eyes of the other clans had been weakened. Not so once Adel appeared at his side, however. Word quickly spread that Ulric's younger daughter was becoming a woman every bit as wise and beautiful as her sister had been, gifted with the touch to heal any wound and blessed with an insight into the spirit world that impressed even the elders of the other clans.
In truth Adel knew little more than what she had been taught by her mother, but it was memorised so thoroughly and expressed with such confidence that outsiders could not help but be impressed that a girl so young possessed such wisdom. The loving company of her sister was no longer Adel's refuge, but through the admiration of others she found new purpose in her life.
Respect. Loyalty. Even reverence. She grew to realise that when she invoked her status as a seer, spoke as her father did, and stood tall and proud as a warrior would, people who had previously regarded her as a child began to look up to her. Some even feared her.
The changes of adolescence shaped her body until she stood nearly as tall as a man, blessed with breathtaking beauty that encompassed both the attractiveness of her father and the stern, well-defined character of her mother. Men young and old began to compliment her on the crystal blue of her eyes, cold as ice, yet fascinating as the depths of the deepest water. They offered her many such platitudes, and time and again she dismissed them without interest. Adel cared for her beauty only in so far as it garnered her the respect and admiration of others, for in these things she found some measure of control over her own existence. Control enough to resist the influence of her father and the other pack elders. Though she was still only a girl, a mere apprentice to the seerhood, she knew that her status in the eyes of her people was growing season by season. The days of her childhood were far behind her, and she was becoming a woman.
One summer, and to Adel's great interest, a group of hunters and seers from Alpha Neman's pack arrived to meet with her father. Though she had once been oblivious to the clans and territories that surrounded her own, Adel now knew the name of each and every rival alpha, along with their relationship to Ulric. Neman was an oddity among the great packs, for he and his kin were as different from them as they were from the wolfless Sun People. Every single one of his followers wore the black hair that was so rare and prized a characteristic among Adel's kind, and their skin was rich and dark like the colour of the earth. It was said they had come from a land somewhere to the south, along the coast of the great water, before settling just shy of the southern edge of Ulric's territory on the far side of the river. Somehow, they had learned of the great gathering and made their way there, establishing themselves as equals to the other clans. More than a generation had passed since then, and though Neman's people were still regarded with trepidation and distrust, they had proven themselves to be as honourable and worthy a pack as any other.
Indeed, Adel knew that Neman frequently offered aid and tribute to her father, eager to maintain the peace with his closest rival rather than resorting to the kind of violence that had torn apart any semblance of kinship between Ulric and Kotal. Though she had never spoken to the dark-skinned alpha directly, Adel often found herself appreciating the restraint and cunning with which he appeared to lead his pack.
The young seer found herself more curious than ever to speak with the visitors when they set up a small camp a respectful distance from the huts and tents of Ulric's den, but the elders insisted she stay away unless given the alpha's approval. Incensed at yet another restraint placed upon her by her father, she hurried to the centre of the camp to a shelter of standing stones that had been latticed with wooden boughs and animal hides to create a sizeable dwelling. Larger and more elaborate than the similar den belonging to the seers, none but the alpha and those he invited were permitted to enter this one. It was Ulric's private refuge, and behind the stones and hide coverings Adel could hear his muffled voice conversing with the messengers from Alpha Neman's pack.
She glanced around to ensure that no one else was nearby, then crouched down and pressed her ear to a gap between the rocks that was too small to have been covered up.
“The aid of your warriors would have been a greater gift, or more food for the winter,” Ulric's voice echoed through the opening. “The less time my men have to spend hunting, the more attentively they can watch our enemies to the north.”
“Neman knows, but he would not make your enemy his own,” a deep male voice replied. It was strange, disrespectful, even, for a man to address his alpha by name and not title, but these people were strange in many ways. “What he offers is his eyes to the south. You will be grateful of what he has glimpsed, Alpha Ulric.”
“Tell me then. Your alpha knows he shall remain my friend so long as he respects my claim over this land.”
“Sun People, from the east,” the messenger replied. “Those from within the forest come to the plains. We do not know why, but they wander in our territory carrying bows and weapons of metal.” A clattering noise followed, the sound of copper on stone. “We took this from one of them after they killed Neman's cousin.”
After a pause Ulric spoke again. “You warn me of this because you fear they will come north, to my territory?”
“We do. The Sun People travel slowly, but they walk far and wide, and they make enemies of all the moon's children.”
The sound of voices approached from behind the nearest hut, and Adel backed away hurriedly before the pair of conversing warriors could stride into view and catch her eavesdropping upon her father. She crept around the opposite side of the dwelling to avoid them, wandering into view of another group of her packm
ates seated around a fire a short distance away. They regarded her curiously until the young seer shot them a fearsome glare that turned their attention back to their own business, silencing any gossip that might have been voiced.
She did not get a chance to listen in again before the procession of visitors exited her father's den and joined the rest of the pack for an evening meal as honoured guests. A small feast was laid out, and Neman's people were treated with respect for the most part, though Adel heard several of her kin whispering about the strange outsiders when they thought they were out of earshot.
After the gathered clan had settled into a hubbub of conversational distractions, Adel took the opportunity to slip through the crowd and find a seat at a fire occupied by several of the women from Neman's group. Two of them wore the skulls of animals atop their heads, and the skin upon their upper arms was pierced with curved slivers of bone in ritual ornamentation. Though their garb differed from Adel's own, she suspected they held the status of seers.
The dark-skinned women regarded the girl with suspicion, conversing in their own strange tongue as she waited patiently to be acknowledged. After a time the eldest of them tapped her fingers twice against her chest in a gesture of greeting, then spoke in the language of Adel's people.
“Young seer Adel. You honour us.”
“You know me?” she replied.
The woman grinned, showing a flash of yellowed teeth. “All wise women know you. At the gathering they say, ʻAdel! The moon spirit's beauty made flesh.ʼ”
Daughter of the Night: A Book of The Moon People Page 3
