Daughter of the Night: A Book of The Moon People

by King, Claudia

  It seemed that her whole world had become a steady spiral of chaos since the night she spoke with Kotal, and now she feared she was nearing its culmination. Though Adel had never held much faith in the premonitions seers glimpsed within their visions, the ominous murk clutching at her thoughts seemed like an omen of things to come. Whatever awaited them back at the den was dark and powerful, its hold over her tightening by the moment.

  She lost track of time as the familiar lands near the den eventually hove into view, the plume of smoke now almost gone. It was near midday, but more than one night might have passed since they began running. Exhaustion and fear had muddled her memory of the journey. All she had been focused on was keeping her paws moving as she tried to keep pace with the others. There had been no time to rest, no time to speak, and only the briefest of pauses to snatch a few quick mouthfuls of water from the streams they crossed.

  Before she had more of a chance to dwell on what was to come, the standing rocks at the edge of the den peeked out from the grass up ahead of her. The relief she felt at seeing her home was short-lived, for smoke still rose on the far side. Just like her father's encounter with the Sun People near the river, what happened next was fast and panicked. Ulric and Neman's charge led them around the edge of the den, revealing but a glimpse of the blackened destruction on the eastern side before a sharp whistle pierced the air, and a hail of feathered darts scattered through the band of wolves.

  Howls of anger, yelps of pain, and roars of battle shook through Adel's ears as chaos descended. All about her furred bodies pushed and thudded against one another, legs becoming tangled as some of the pack attempted to follow their alphas while others bolted for the cover of the den. Through the melee she could make out the skeletal remains of charred tent poles on the edge of the den, but at that moment the arrows whipping through the air were her primary concern. She still remembered their bite, and she had no desire to feel it again.

  More feathered darts descended upon the group, sending one of Neman's warriors crashing to the ground in front of Adel while others limped and stumbled from minor wounds. For a terrible instant she feared the sandy-furred wolf before her was Jarek, only to hear her friend barking near the edge of the den a moment later. She snapped her head around to find him, dodging out of the way of a charging warrior as Ulric roared somewhere behind her. The alpha seemed to be leading his followers onward in their charge, but Adel had no time to check. Jarek's eyes were fixed on her, his body held up anxiously on his hind legs as he corralled several others back behind the shelter of the nearest standing rock. An arrow struck the stone and splintered close to his head, but still he refused to move, his expression urging Adel to come to him.

  She glanced down at the fallen warrior in front of her, still writhing as blood seeped from the base of his ear where the arrow had struck. Before any more of the Sun People's darts could seal his fate, she bit the wolf by the scruff of his neck and pulled with all her might, heaving him back in the direction of the den. Something sharp clipped the side of her tail, but she ignored it, summoning what little of her strength remained to drag the warrior to safety. Jarek was at her side a moment later, putting his body between hers and the arrows as he gripped his clansman's leg between his jaws and began pulling too.

  Had there been time, she would have let go and berated Jarek for his foolishness, putting himself in danger to protect her, but now was no time for pride. With their combined strength they were able to drag the injured warrior back through the grass until they were behind the large rock, where a group of half a dozen others—two women, and four wounded men—huddled.

  Before doing anything else Adel reverted from the shape of her wolf and gripped the arrow protruding from the fallen warrior's skull, testing it gingerly to see whether it could be withdrawn. A subtle stiffness indicated that it had slipped past bone, or perhaps even broken it, and when she pulled the shaft out she found a wicked shard of stone embedded in its tip.

  “Give that to me,” she instructed one of the men, who was staunching a minor leg wound with a handful of his shed clothing. After snatching the soft furs from him she tugged one of the women over and pressed the improvised dressing into her hand. “Hold this against his head, firmly, but not too hard. If he bleeds within his skull I may have to open it to release the blood.” Adel spoke with conviction, but she was unsure whether her techniques would work on a wolf. As much as the seers knew of healing, most of their knowledge was drawn from tending men and women, not animals.

  After glancing over the others to make sure none of them were seriously wounded, Adel looked back into the den behind her. Nearly a third of the huts and tents on the near side had been burned to the ground, and oily black smoke still rose from the ashes of a storage pit outside the seers' den. Half of the clan's preserved food for the winter had been kept there. The dwellings beyond were intact, but several boasted scorch marks and arrows protruding from their sides. There was no sign of the rest of the pack, but Adel saw no bodies upon the ground. Perhaps they had fled when the Sun People attacked?

  She felt Jarek's hand clutching her shoulder, and squeezed it instinctively. Staying close to the edge of the rock, the two of them peered out around the edge to witness the battle taking place beyond. Now that the tangle of wolves had dispersed, Adel could make out a small camp a short distance from the edge of the den. Spears lined the edges in a ring, the tips pointing outward like the quills of a bristling porcupine. Sickeningly, what looked to be the severed heads of wolves adorned several of the longer spikes.

  From within the circle a group of perhaps two dozen men stood upon a small outcrop of rock, bows in their hands as they launched shaft after shaft into the mob of bloodthirsty wolves bearing down on them. Warrior after warrior fell, and many more limped on with darts embedded in their backs, but Ulric and Neman continued to lead their joined packs forward, weaving from side to side as they charged on fearlessly.

  It was a sight that Adel would always remember. One that haunted her dreams in the years to come. One after another she watched men she had known all her life die, some young, some old, and many of Jarek's kin alongside them. One warrior fell behind as the arrows piercing his hide seemed to weigh him down, legs shaking as he strove to take just a few more steps. He toppled, and when he fell two of the shafts protruding from his side buried themselves deep between his ribs as his weight came down on top of them. He kicked once, and then grew still.

  The tightness constricting Adel's throat was so strong she could barely breathe, her eyes burning, unblinking in the wind as she dug her fingers into Jarek's hand. All told, Ulric and Neman's warriors must have left half their number dead in their wake by the time they reached the Sun People's ring of spears. More still died upon the outward-facing spikes as they threw themselves forward with abandon, and the rest faced knives and long-handled axes as the Sun People dropped their bows and took to fighting in close quarters.

  Despite their losses, it was the same tale Adel had witnessed before. The wolves of the Moon People were monsters compared to their foes once their teeth and claws came to bear, and as soon as the ring of spears was broken Ulric and Neman tore through the archers without mercy. They fell like sand before the wind, their screams fracturing the serenity of the plains as their blood spilt upon the ground.

  Amidst the final cries of the dying and the growls of the surviving wolves, a sickly calm descended. So many dead. A pack's worth of lives lost in moments.

  Like a whisper on the wind, Adel felt her father's dreams of power breathe their last breath. Their clan was broken. It would take years for the wounds left by this loss to heal. Generations for their strength to recover.

  She gripped Jarek's hand harder, clutching it to her breast, unable to look away from the trail of bodies that now painted a bloody path toward the outcrop. Her breath came in shrill gasps. Distant though Adel may have been from them, she felt the combined suffering of her pack and Jarek's bearing down upon her like the hail of arrows that had just e
nded so many of their lives. Everyone had lost someone today. Among the dead she counted the mates of both her cousins. Her mother's brother. One of the seers who had taught her how to dig up medicinal roots when she was a girl.

  “You don't have to look,” Jarek said. He tried to ease her back around the other side of the rock, but she resisted.

  “I do,” she whispered. “I have to remember them.” Adel let her hand slip away from his. “Go to your people. They must need you.”

  “You need me too.”

  She shook her head, swallowing away the tightness in her throat. “Soon. There is something I must do first.”

  —14—

  The Broken Clan

  Adel walked up the trail of the dead, the bloody grass painting her ankles with crimson streaks as it whipped by. The tang of death was hot and rich in the air, threatening to turn her stomach every time she caught sight of someone she knew lying prone or twitching in their final moments. She stopped to tend those she could, but most who had fallen were beyond help. Warriors of the Moon People did not give up until their last breath, and those still capable of standing were up ahead at her father's side.

  A dark part of her almost wished that her father had fallen too, but she could hear his voice in the distance, barking commands to his surviving followers. It did not matter. Alive or dead, their conflict was over. He could not continue his fight with Alpha Kotal now. Not without warriors.

  For a moment Adel shuddered with anger, aghast that it had come to this. This was where the pride of men like Ulric led them. Had he not thrown away so many lives fighting Kotal over the years, there would have been more warriors left behind to protect the den. And why had he charged, leading so many to their deaths? They could have stopped at the den, waited till nightfall, and used the cover of the shadows to ambush the Sun People. But no. She knew exactly what had leaped to the forefront of her father's mind the moment the arrows started to fly. There were enemies within his territory. Cowards desecrating his home. He would kill them where they stood, oblivious to the lives he might throw away in the process.

  Adel forced back angry tears, maintaining her composure somewhere between rage and despair. This was the moment to show her father what he had wrought. If this did not convince him, nothing would.

  But as the young seer picked her way past the broken ring of spears, her determination wavered. A wolf was still snarling somewhere on the far side of the outcrop. The familiar sound of Carim's growls reached her ears, along with the snap of jaws and the voices of several other men.

  She picked her way around the spur of rock, trying not to look at the disembowelled remains of the Sun People that were strewn in every direction. What she found on the other side was a one-eyed wolf surrounded by a loose circle of his clansmen, Ulric shouting for him to back down as bloody froth foamed at the corners of his slavering mouth. Carim bit and snarled at anyone who tried to approach him, whipping back and forth as if possessed by a demon. Wet crimson fur hung in bedraggled strands from his left side where a deep gash had cut into his chest, and every time he moved more blood poured out of it.

  “He is mad. The darkness has taken him,” one of Neman's warriors said, prompting a vicious growl from Ulric.

  “You are no seer, hold your tongue! He is my warrior, and he will listen to me. Carim!” he snapped, taking a step forward. The frantic wolf reacted by lunging at his alpha, opening up a wound in Ulric's forearm as his fangs gouged through the unprotected flesh. Adel's father jerked back at the last moment, barely saving his wrist from being crushed between Carim's teeth as another warrior darted in to bull the rabid wolf aside.

  “Hold him down!” Ulric gasped.

  Half a dozen wolves, Adel's brother included, leaped forward, but Carim fought with the ferocity of a cornered beast, throwing them off one after another, teeth tearing and claws raking, until three were forced to back away sporting minor wounds, while a forth had to be dragged out of harm's way by his companions after Carim tore open his flank.

  He was crazed, no longer able to tell friend from foe. His clansmen were fighting to pin him, but he was fighting to kill. As Adel watched in horror, she saw no spark of the man who had loved her sister reflected in the wolf's one good eye.

  “It is the seers' magic,” Karel panted as he backed away. “He is lost in it again, sick with the battle lust.”

  “It will fade,” Ulric said, clutching his bleeding arm. “Keep him here, do not harm him!”

  “It isn't our magic,” Adel said, drawing the attention of the group for the first time. She shook her head, ignoring her father's look of anger. “We have been running since the mountains. Who would have brewed our draughts for him?”

  “Then his mind is gone,” Karel groaned in anguish.

  “It will fade!” Ulric repeated. “It always does.”

  “What about his wound?”

  “What about it?!” the alpha yelled at his son. “You think the seers can tend him when he is like this?”

  From behind Ulric, a soft voice spoke up.

  “You have to stop him.”

  As if to punctuate the words, Carim lunged at another one of his clansmen, clawing at his face before being driven back by a pair of Neman's warriors who had picked up two of the Sun People's spears.

  Adel looked toward the source of the voice and saw her mother leaning on another broken spear for support, her breathing heavy. She must have stood at her mate's side when he charged, despite not being a warrior.

  “We will keep him here,” Ulric said, “until he regains his senses.”

  Freia looked to her daughter, then back at Ulric. “He will kill someone.”

  “What would you have me do, woman?! He is our kin, mate of your own daughter!”

  “You must stop him,” she repeated. “He is suffering.”

  And when Adel looked at the snarling wolf, she knew the truth of her mother's words. The wound in Carim's side was deep, perhaps mortal. He had already injured many. Even if he did emerge from his darkness, he would carry on living with the guilt of what he had done. Another terrible burden upon an already broken man.

  Adel pressed a palm to her brow, struggling to hold back her tears lest the others see. Poor, poor Carim. She had waited too long. The draughts of the seers had rotted his mind, and now all that remained was a savage beast. The battle with the Sun People had broken whatever was left of him.

  “You do not know what you say,” Ulric growled, shouldering Freia aside as she tried to staunch the blood seeping through his clenched fingers. “I said hold him down! We cannot let him run loose.”

  This time the warriors hesitated, but after another growl from their alpha they edged forward again. Neman's men tried to lend their aid with the spears, jabbing defensively as they had seen the Sun People do, but neither of them knew how to handle the weapons properly, and the slavering wolf ducked between the points and seized one of them by the ankle.

  Adel's eyes darted around the group in a panic as she heard the man scream and bones crack.

  “Carim!” she called, snatching a stone and hefting it at the wolf's flank. He let go of the man he had been mauling and whipped around to face her, blood drooling from his teeth as he prowled forward.

  “Keep him away from her!” Ulric yelled, but as he tried to put himself between the two of them he stumbled, exhaustion and the pain of his wound finally overcoming the alpha's strength. Freia pulled him back as he slumped to his knees, shooting her daughter an urgent look, but Adel remained still.

  The young seer held out her hand to warn off the warriors, most of whom were already reluctant to tangle with their crazed brother again. She crouched down slowly as Carim approached, careful not to startle the twitchy wolf. Her heart ached with every step he took forward, but she could not stand back and watch him hurt anyone else. If her father had his way, more men would die in their efforts to subdue him. He did not have to join Uriel in the spirit world with any more sorrow burdening his soul.

  Adel's fin
gertips brushed against the warm soil, then closed around the handle of one of the Sun People's copper knives. She edged forward, and Carim lunged. The wolf's open-mouthed bite was aimed at her face, but she thrust her arm forward before it could connect, forcing her wrist between his jaws and pushing back as hard as she could. Pain shot up her arm as his back teeth bit into her skin, but the unexpected lunge had caught him by surprise, interrupting the momentum of the attack. Adel only had an instant to react as Carim's weight bore down on her, but she knew what she had to do. The hand clutching the knife flashed upward, sharp metal slashing through fur and digging into the flesh beneath. Adel pulled with all her might, closing her eyes as she opened Carim's throat with the blade. Hot blood sprayed against her chest. An instant later his weight was on top of her, crushing the girl to the ground. His jaws tightened for a moment, then relaxed enough for Adel to jerk her arm free.

  Her father's warriors dragged the wolf off her, but she held out her palm again to warn them back. Unable to voice any words, she bent over Carim and dropped the bloody knife, holding him gently in her arms as he kicked and thrashed the last of his life away.

  You can be with her now, she thought, impelling her unspoken comforts to reach him somehow. Shh. Your pain is over. Quiet now.

  The tears she had been trying so hard to hold back finally spilled down her cheeks as she struggled to hold the twitching wolf still, stroking the top of his head with trembling fingers until his struggles grew weak. It did not take long. The others watched in sombre silence as the girl cradled her packmate, soothing him as a mother would a child. Even her father did not speak until Carim stilled and the faint beat of his heart was no more.

  Adel's hands and chest were soaked with his warm blood. She had taken a life, and though her heart told her it had been done in kindness, it was impossible not to feel the burden of her choice dragging upon her soul.