Daughter of the Night: A Book of The Moon People

by King, Claudia

  “With my wolf's paws?”

  Jarek laughed. “Well, it was worth hoping. A shame, I always wanted to try making one of these.” He glanced at his piece of wood, shrugged, then tossed it down on the bank and expertly flicked the dart so that it landed point-first in the ground next to the unfinished bow.

  “Those weapons came from the Sun People,” Adel said.

  Jarek nodded, his lips thinning for a moment. “I know.” He squinted at her headdress. “What is that you are wearing?”

  Adel sat down at the edge of the pool, picking up the dart and turning it over in her hands as she recounted everything that had happened after their last meeting. Her companion did not interrupt her as she spoke, though he looked a little crestfallen at the news of Mother Fox.

  “Well,” he said at last, once she had finished speaking. “I am glad you still carry her spirit with you. She would be honoured, I'm sure.”

  “I was a fool to wander into them like that.”

  Jarek smiled, inclining his head slightly as he looked at her. “Maybe.”

  “Of course I was. Go on, tell me. Warn me to be more careful. Say we should stop meeting here.”

  “Is that what you think I should say? Or is it just what everyone else has been telling you?”

  Adel huffed and folded her arms.

  Jarek gave her a nudge. “Now what do you think I would say?”

  She turned her eyes in his direction, and a small grin crept into the corner of her mouth. “Something far less wise.”

  “Maybe I'm the wisest of them all! Maybe I think that if you can escape a band of the Sun warriors by yourself, then there is nothing I need worry about. Besides, I would hate to stop meeting here. Once every moon is not enough.”

  Adel's smile spread, along with the warm feeling stealing its way into her lower belly. “Do you really mean that?”

  “Of course. Would I lie to you?”

  “I do not know.” She turned to face him fully, restraining her twinge of excitement. “Should we meet more often, then?”

  Jarek's expression fell. “My alpha needs me more nights than he does not. I am young and strong, and of age to be a warrior.” He rolled his eyes. “Ah, maybe I am a fool. I know he needs me, now that the Sun People come more often. Every pair of eyes watching our territory is precious. But I would still much rather be out here with you.”

  “Why?” Adel said. “I come here because I—” She faltered. “I have no one else I can speak to. You must have many friends.”

  “I would think the same of you.”

  “Don't mock me.” Adel shook her head. “I know what I am. I don't speak with the others unless I have to. I am strange to them. I think and say things they find uncomfortable, so I keep to myself.”

  Jarek nodded slowly. “Perhaps that is why I like coming to see you. You are different, and not just because you are pale and I am dark. Being with you is like... Watching a strange bird you have never seen before, or a pack of ants as they build their den.”

  Adel gave him a curious look, unsure what to make of his words. “I enjoy watching the ants too.”

  “Does it matter why we are here, so long as we enjoy it?”

  “I suppose not.” Adel picked up the branch Jarek had cast aside. “Come. Show me where you found that dart. Maybe some of the Sun People's bows are left too. They will have twine we can use for our own.”

  Even the grisly memories of the battle she had borne witness to were not enough to dampen Adel's spirits as she went off hunting with Jarek. His companionship put her at ease, making even a task she would have found uninteresting on any other day seem like an exciting adventure. The night was theirs, and nothing else seemed to matter until the sun came up. He made what she was sure were mockeries of her in his own language when she tried and failed many times to bend their branch into a shape that would hold a length of twine, but instead of anger they evoked only feelings of amusement. How was it that she could feel so rigid, so tense, like a tight-strung piece of twine herself when she was with her own pack, yet while she was alone with Jarek even insults to her honour seemed akin to the greatest compliments she had ever received?

  She asked what his words meant, and he began to teach her. In return, she shared a few words of the Sun People's language that she knew, promising to learn more for him the next time they met.

  “No, no,” Jarek explained, after he had finished laughing at her attempt to pronounce a simple phrase in his native tongue. “A word is not just one word, it is sometimes two, but you have to say them together as if they are one.”

  “Why is your tongue so strange? The Sun People have different words, but I have never heard of them saying two things when they mean one.”

  “You and they are very alike. You come from the same land. You speak with the same... The same sound. The same music to your voice. My fathers did not.”

  “Let me listen again, then. It is the only way I will learn.”

  “Try bending that branch one more time and I will. No wonder everyone speaks of your wisdom, Seer Adel. Every moment of every day it seems you want to learn something new.”

  She smiled at him. “I like to know new things.” She thought of mentioning her recent induction into the seerhood, and the status that had been bestowed upon her along with her new headdress, but it seemed unimportant. She did not need—nor want—Jarek to see her as anything other than the woman he beheld with his own eyes. Even her dreams of power seemed somehow silly and pointless when they talked. Why had she spent so many of her years pursuing such things, when instead she could have been sharing moments like this?

  With who? Back among her own clan there was no one like Jarek. No one who could simultaneously mock her while also somehow showing more respect than she had ever received from her father or brother. It was confusing to dwell on, and Adel did not like being confused. Her time with Jarek simply felt right. Natural, like the company of the night and the stars.

  Nothing saddened her more than the sight of the sun coming up, and nothing lifted her spirits like the coming of the next full moon. Many seasons turned, but their meetings continued. Even in the bitter cold of winter they brought furs and stashed dry wood to make fire, huddling together beside the frozen pool as they savoured their freedom away from their packs. Sadness and hardship came and went for both of them, with more Sun People arriving in their lands to bring bloodshed to both Neman and Ulric's packs. Adel's father grew increasingly short with her whenever they spoke, more silver creeping into his hair and more malice into his blows whenever he beat her for defying him.

  The lives lost fighting the Sun People and the continued pressure on Adel to find a mate might have ground her spirit away into nothing, but she no longer felt like she was bearing those burdens alone. Every moon, Jarek was there for her. If she found herself bruised and bleeding, driven to the ground beneath her father's fists, then thinking of her friend still managed to make her smile up at Ulric in defiance. For no matter how much the alpha raged at her, no matter how many times he sought to impose his will upon his daughter, he could not take away the one thing she truly cared for. The one person she cared about more than anyone else. When she was at the pool with Jarek, she was within that wonderful dream she and Uriel had once shared, and once again she felt the same happiness that had been absent from her soul ever since her sister's death. It gave her strength beyond measure, turning the young woman fierce and passionate, determined to one day make her pack a place where such happiness could thrive. Free of bloodshed, free of selfish alphas forcing others to bend to their will. She would have it, and nothing her father or anyone else could do would be enough to change her mind.

  Not when she now had something so wonderful to live for.

  —11—

  The Great Packs

  It was customary for every alpha to present himself at the great gathering with a delegation of his followers, making his ceremonial procession to the centre of the hilltop clearing where a ring of fires marked the me
eting place of the most powerful men among all the Moon People. For as long as Adel had been allowed to attend, her father had always insisted she walk at his side, dressed in her seer's garb and adorned with ritual markings to make her presence all the more imposing. That year she had chosen to paint her eyes with black charcoal, further enhancing the fearsome appearance she had become known for ever since donning her fox pelt headdress. When she walked at her father's side, it was not Ulric to whom the eyes of the assembled clans were drawn, but the tall, dark-haired young woman that strode beside him. It was little wonder the other packs all knew her name.

  Ulric's group came to a halt at the edge of the ring of fires, waiting in silence for the other alphas to arrive so that the gathering could formally begin. Neman stood to their left, his shawl of white wooden sticks rattling as he bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement of Ulric. Though she was used to keeping her demeanour detached and aloof, Adel could not help but cast a hopeful glance over the group that accompanied the dark-skinned alpha. To her delight, she saw that Jarek stood near the rear of the procession, his gaze unashamedly fixed on his friend, a teasing smile on his lips. It was all Adel could do not to flush and smile back, for it was one thing for a nondescript young man to make eyes at alpha Ulric's daughter, but quite another for her to respond in kind.

  For a moment her heart beat faster. What if someone noticed Jarek's look? What if they realised the truth of it? But as he raised his eyebrows at her, she realised that at least a dozen other men within eyesight were staring at her as well, awestruck by the fearsome beauty of the young seer. She allowed the latent smile to spread across her lips, casting her gaze over each one of her admirers in turn. Who would know that Jarek was the only one for whom it held any real meaning?

  The arrival of the other alphas divided her attention as they approached one by one, each crossing from their individual camps at the edges of the clearing to meet in the centre. Some of the great packs were still absent, but enough had arrived for the alphas to make their greetings.

  First came Miral, young and smiling with confidence, clad in dark leather, hair bound in a tight tail behind his head. He was flanked by warriors, many of them adorned with trophies that spoke of the pack's recent conquests. Then came Turec, a little older, and with no display of garish power to back him up, but the men and women at his side held themselves with a solemn dignity that commanded respect all the same.

  Adel noticed her father's fists clench at his sides as the next procession appeared. Shuffling footsteps parted the crowd on the opposite edge of the fires. To ignorant eyes, the man who approached might have seemed frail in comparison to his fellow alphas, but as the aged figure stepped into the firelight he was met with nothing but looks of respect. A mane of long white hair rested upon the thick fur of Kotal's robes. Gnarled wood matched gnarled fingers as he dragged himself forward with the aid of a twisted staff, his free hand resting upon the shoulder of a muscular boy who, judging by this looks, could only have been his son.

  Wizened though he was, Kotal wore the scars of many a battle. Two of his fingers were missing from the top knuckle, and a severe limp in his right side spoke of injuries that went beyond the infirmity of old age. The other alphas postured to make shows of their strength, but for Kotal there was no need. He had already fought his battles and won his status, and his frail body was not a sign of weakness, but rather a testament to all he had endured. Few warriors of the Moon People ever lived to such an age.

  Neman, Miral, and Turec bowed their heads to the senior male one by one, but Ulric only tilted his chin higher in defiance, eyes locked with those of his enemy. Something about the gesture almost made Adel proud of her father. Then realisation struck the girl, followed by anger. It was exactly the same pose she struck when facing down Ulric.

  A crooked smile dragged the corner of Kotal's mouth upward, and he leaned forward to grip his staff with both hands, shooing his helper away. “Off you go, boy.”

  “It is a wonder you can still make this journey at all, Alpha,” Ulric said. “The mountain crossing cannot be easy on your old bones.”

  “Yes, so they have told me ever since my hair turned white. And how many gatherings have passed since then? Ah, so many I forget.”

  “Your strength cannot last forever.”

  Kotal waved a hand in dismissal, shuffling forward to take the first seat within the ring of fires. “You will be an old man too before I grow frail enough to cower to you, Ulric.” He eased himself down with an effort, then gestured for the others to join him. “Come my friends, let us speak of this past year. Where is Alpha Teyla? It is unlike him to arrive late.”

  “It will be unlike him to arrive at all.” Alpha Miral grinned, throwing himself down casually upon a lush fur that one of his followers laid out.

  “Hm,” Kotal murmured. “Your doing?”

  Miral turned his palms outward, the gesture disarmingly friendly. “Teyla's warriors and his women are mine now.”

  A murmur of concern ran through those nearby, but Ulric seemed unimpressed, his attention fixed firmly on Kotal.

  “Leave us now,” he said to Adel and the others. “It is time for your alphas to speak alone.”

  “Begone, all of you,” Kotal added.

  Adel lingered for as long as she dared, aching to hear more of the conversation, but only the most trusted companions of the alphas were ever permitted to join them within the circle. What would it take for her own voice to be heard there?

  A miracle.

  Her pack needed voices of reason now that the Sun People threatened them, not her father's bullish rivalry with their neighbour to the north. She had hoped that her mother's counsel would have soothed Ulric's temper, but seeing the way he reacted to Kotal's presence had not been reassuring. Another gathering, and another year of bloodshed between their two packs.

  Adel turned away in despair, wishing that there was some way for calmer words to reach Kotal's ears. Perhaps if he only knew the strife her pack faced he would be more willing to talk of peace. Her father insisted time after time that it would only be a sign of weakness to admit their plight, but by all accounts Kotal was an honourable man. Adel did not think an elder alpha like him would have much interest in travelling far afield to conquer his enemies, not if he could be placated in some other way.

  As she walked back to the small camp her pack had made at the edge of the clearing she noticed Jarek glancing across at her again from his own group. She smiled despite herself. If she could not influence the alphas, then at least she would be able to see her friend every day without having to wait for the next full moon. They could even talk a little. The dense trees surrounding the edge of the hill were thick enough for many a clandestine meeting to take place beneath their boughs.

  Most of Adel's packmates wandered off to join in with the festivities of the gathering as the clans intermingled around the clearing. More and more delegations would arrive as the days passed, and soon the entire area would be packed with men and women beyond counting. It was a time for bonds of friendship to be forged as much as it was a testing ground for rivalries new and old. Though the unspoken code of honour among the clans forbade the taking of life upon this hallowed ground, many a challenge would be made, and much blood would be shed. Fighting, lovemaking, feasting, and tale-telling would keep the clearing rich with life until the sun came up, whereupon the clans would sleep, hunt, cook, and make ready for the celebrations to begin anew the next night.

  The noise and clamour of the gathering were not to Adel's tastes, but she did enjoy seeing so many different people in one place, and she liked listening to the tales they told. The world held much wisdom she had yet to learn, and the gathering was a small crack through which she could glimpse it.

  That first night she rested back at the camp, recovering from the long journey they had made through the southern mountains. She made a spot for herself between the roots of a large tree at the very edge of the clearing, tucked into her sleeping furs in the quiet o
f the shadows. Some time before dawn she was awoken by her father's return, and her heart sank to hear his angry voice stirring her from sleep. He was irritable and impatient, cursing Kotal's name in front of his warriors as they shared the last of their travelling food around the alpha's fire.

  Perhaps it was better that Adel had not heard what passed between her father and his rival after all. It was the same every year. Pointless anger and pride, leading nowhere. How could they talk for so long and still accomplish nothing? She rubbed her eyes, unable to sleep with her father's embittered words echoing in her ears. Taking care not to let him see her, she took the shape of her wolf and slunk deeper into the shadows beneath the trees, making her way around the edge of the clearing toward the river that ran near the base of the hill. Few people would be washing or relieving themselves down there so late in the night, not when there was still precious merrymaking to be had before dawn.

  The hill angled steeply downward into a maze of thorns and mist, the cool air turning humid as Adel squeezed her way through the brambles. It was a treacherous journey for those who were unfamiliar with the terrain, but after the majority of the clans had assembled a path would be cut to facilitate easier comings and goings. Each year the thorns encircling the base of the hill grew back, and each year the packs were challenged to find a new path through them as the final ceremonial step of their journey. It was said that the spirits of many ancestors dwelt there, protecting the sacred meeting place from all but the moon's children by weaving their thorns and shrouding the lowlands in mist.

  Once Adel had found her way through the brambles it was but a short distance to the river, and when she arrived she shed her clothing to bathe. It felt good to cleanse the grime of travel from her body, and she savoured the motion of the current caressing her naked skin despite the chill it brought. A few splashes downstream spoke of other nighttime bathers, but the river was otherwise quiet. Quiet, until a familiar voice stirred the silence.