Hunter’s Moon
A Cat Clan Novella
By
C.L. Bevill
SMASHWORDS EDITION
Hunter’s Moon
PUBLISHED BY:
C.L. Bevill on Smashwords
© 2014 by Caren L. Bevill
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without written permission, except for brief quotations to books and critical reviews. This story is a work of fiction. Characters and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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This novella is a companion piece to the Moon
Trilogy and the fourth in the Cat Clan novellas.
The order is:
Black Moon
Amber Moon
Silver Moon
Harvest Moon
Blood Moon
Crescent Moon
Hunter’s Moon
Dedicated to the memory of
Cathy Coddington 1943-2014
Chapter 1
Who keeps company with wolves,
will learn to howl. – Proverb
Claire Bennett stopped abruptly. Her head came up, and her ears swiveled to better locate the noise that had caused her to pause.
The northern woods of Manitoba weren’t ever truly quiet, but never before had she heard so many planes flying at the same time. Occasionally there was the drone of a single engine plane of a hunter seeking the thrill of elk or moose. Less common were the planes of naturalists exploring the great expanse of the boreal forest. Some of the Inuit near Tadoule Lake also owned planes, but they flew irregularly. Once there had been the roaring growl of an immense military plane thundering through the skies from the east to the west to a destination that she couldn’t discern. Even the clan’s rarely used helicopter sounded so obviously dissimilar to the whining engines in the distance.
This? This was different. A tiny amount of fear coursed through her blood. Different was exciting. Different was thrilling. Different was also dangerous.
Her parents had drilled it into her and to her sister. Strangers were not to be trusted. The humans thought that the otherworlders didn’t exist. Worse, some of them treated shifters like animals to be destroyed at their whim.
Claire was one of the otherworlders. A wolf shifter, an otherworlder born to other otherworlders. Some of the humans called them werewolves, but the wolf shifters found the term to be insulting. They had come to the northernmost regions of Canada for the freedom they could hold, to preserve their secrets, and to be content in isolation.
Their clan held mostly wolf shifters, families with happy children and people who were happy not to be forced to hide their innermost beings. They weren’t all wolf shifters, however. A few bear shifters blended in well, and one man who Claire thought was probably some kind of moose, but not a moose she had ever seen before. She’d had to look it up on the Internet and discovered it was an elk-combined-with-moose-like animal that had gone extinct ten thousand years before.
Within the clan there were also a few humans. They were mostly Native Americans who didn’t freak at the thought of paranormality in their world. There were also a few human friends outside the clan who held their secrets as well as they did.
But multiple planes flying over the forest, flying in a way that suggested purpose and direction, was something to be reckoned with.
Something new. Different. Dangerous?
Claire lifted her wolf head and howled. Mere seconds later, her sister, Ula, answered from the south. They had been out hunting, a long way from their home, over a hundred miles to the south where whitetail deer were more common. A small herd was the object of their pursuit. Claire and Ula planned to take down several and then radio back home to get Russ to fly out and pick up the meat. Claire didn’t mind bringing the animals down, nor did she mind cleaning the carcasses, but she would be damned if she was going to drag the meat the rough hundred miles to home. Even if they hadn’t brought the Willys Jeep, she wouldn’t want to disrupt the hunt when they got going. The clan needed meat, and the deer population was booming.
They hadn’t brought down even one of the deer when Claire heard the sound of distant motors. Not one plane, but several. She found the tallest hill in the area and surveyed the land before her. The sun was up and had been since shortly after four a.m. It was, after all, June, and the days were long on the upside of the world. The sun wouldn’t set until after ten p.m.
Because of her exceptional wolf vision, Claire spotted the distant planes working a systematic pattern. She even recognized some of the planes as belonging to bush pilots who worked out of Churchill, the nearest town in Manitoba. The one human they trusted wouldn’t be with them though. Jake was a pilot who owned his plane and was one of the few humans they knew wouldn’t spill their secrets. He might have already called the clan to warn them.
Claire and Ula wouldn’t have known. Eager to let their inner beasts, out, they’d stripped out of their clothes and changed into wolf form at first light. They hadn’t been near their packs and satphones for hours. The herd of deer had been unusually elusive and antsy, ready to run at the slightest hint of predators in the area. Now Claire had an idea why.
Clearly, the planes had been around for a while. The forest animals were aware of them. Claire and Ula would have been aware, too if they hadn’t been driving the Willys. They hadn’t seen anyone for days, not even the odd hunter, and she wondered if everyone was sparking to the news that strangers were in the woods. Worse, they were strangers who had a lot of money, resources, and the capacity to hunt for days.
Ula howled again, and the mournful sound indicated she was much closer.
Claire bent her head down and began the change. She would need to talk to her sister, and it wouldn’t be possible in her shifter form. Bones and muscles undulated and groaned with near magical transformation. By the time she was done, Ula sat next to her, a black and gray wolf that gazed off into the north with determined curiosity. Her tail thumped restlessly against the earth.
Claire shivered, her shoulder-length black hair fluttering in the wind. The temperature was around four degrees Celsius with a light crosswind. It wasn’t the height of summer, but it wasn’t freezing either. It was fine for a wolf’s fur, but not so much for a human’s bare flesh. “There’s at least five of them,” Claire said.
Ula woofed softly.
“Hunting something. We should go back to the satphone and check in.”
Ula woofed again, eyes skyward as the planes continued their southward sweep.
“I know,” Claire said. “It’s at least twenty miles to the Willys. And most of it across a wide open spot of tundra. Or we stay in the forest and wait until dark.”
Ula grunted and began her change. Nearly a minute later, through her half-formed mouth, she said, “The yellow plane is Barlow’s.”
Claire looked again. Barlow was a bush pilot out of Churchill like Jake. But the difference was that Barlow catered to hardcore hunters and tended to disregard rules. His plane sported all the bells and whistles, including infrared sensors for night. That meant that they were in danger of being spotted no matter what time of day or night it was.
“We have to warn the clan,” Ula said. Her pale blue eyes were identical to Claire’s. “I can run faster than you. I can be there in less than an hour
.”
Claire didn’t want to admit that her sister was right. Ula could usually do most things better than she could. Ula was more like their father, Braydon Bennett, the Alpha male of the Manitoba Clan. She was better at her studies. She was better at the martial arts that their father insisted they practice at, and her knife work was exemplary. Claire was lucky if she could throw a knife and hit the target with the handle of the knife, which if it had been prey would only irritate it. All those classes and Claire had rarely found one that she was better at. Ula was the one with the mad skills; Claire was the sister who couldn’t nock a bow.
But all things considered, Claire didn’t hold it against her sister. Ula wasn’t arrogant, and she didn’t lord it over her sister. They were good friends, and that was something not many sisters could say.
And Ula could run much faster than Claire.
Claire looked toward the north. The array of planes swept closer and closer. Their pattern extended and methodical became predictable. “What are they seeking?”
Elk began to stream from the forest below the hill. Other animals also seemed to be trying to evade the hunters, black bears, more whitetail deer, and gray wolves all obviously frightened of what was coming.
“I don’t know,” Ula said through gritted teeth. She began her change. “It’s only a matter of time before they turn toward the north and toward the clan. They must be warned.” The words ended with a high howl as Ula transmuted again. She would pay for such rapid transformations, but it had to be done.
“I’m right behind you,” Claire said as she sank to her knees, willing her body to undergo the change that made their kind so special. It took her longer this time. Her body needed energy, and she was burning through what she had left. Soon she would need to eat and restore that energy, no matter what was coming. As bones and muscles dislocated and realigned themselves, she looked through the hollows of the inuksuk standing on the highest point of the hill.
An inuksuk was a stone monument likely created by some ancient Inuit who had once stood in this place looking out at the great northern forest as Claire did now. The stones had been carefully selected to make a memorial that would withstand the effects of wind and snow. The heaviest, flattest stones made up the bottom pieces and the base of the construction. It became a tower that showed that a person had once been in this space, a person had once come here to show themselves that they were the master of their world. Some argued that inuksuit were simply markers or navigational beacons to guide the way to or from a place. In the decades of recent Canadian history, the inuksuit had become a cultural icon. Once, an elderly Inuit from Tadoule Lake had explained to Claire that the inuksuit were a way of acknowledging all that is greater than the mere mortal.
Claire had built several herself. The Inuit had a way of recognizing the nature of all things earthly and the acknowledgement of all things unearthly. In their mind, the otherworldly were not unearthly. The Inuit believed that all things have a soul, an anirniq. Killing animals was not unlike killing humans because they have a soul just as a human does. Once the body was dead, the spirit was free to take vengeance. Anirnialuk was the Great Spirit and the giver of all souls. Reverence and beliefs were ways of counteracting and appeasing the spirit world. The inuksuk was a voiceless testament to the greater power of Anirnialuk.
Although the Bennetts were Christians, a belief system passed down by human forebears, they weren’t exactly human, nor were their beliefs. It was complicated. The inuksuk in front of Claire affirmed the fact that all things were not explainable, and sometimes it was better to be safe than sorry.
Her wolf shape settled upon her, and Claire huffed with relief. A moment later, and she was running after her sister.
* * *
Claire caught the scent of humans and a single shifter long before they saw her. The wind had changed its direction and brought the acrid smell of perspiration, musk, and spoiled food to her. Someone had been eating something with a lot of chili sauce in it.
Once she knew she was no longer alone, Claire slipped into the shadows of the thick woods and slid through the thickest brush until she had no more forest to conceal her.
The collection of planes was at her back as she crossed over an area of tundra. She didn’t think the pilots could see her. Dozens of animals ran in the same direction, ready to acquiesce to the larger, scarier predators. Deer, bear, elk, and a menagerie of other animals were on the move.
Distant booms reverberated from the direction of the planes. Someone with too much money wanted a bunch of trophies and didn’t have a lot of common sense. Perhaps they were after polar bears or grizzlies. But it slowly dawned on her that the animals were being herded in a single direction.
Claire wasn’t stupid. The clan would herd animals in much the same way. Several wolves acted as the reckoning force while the others waited in ambush.
Ula!
Claire stopped to howl. Ula would recognize the howl, and she would come running, away from the trap, away from the danger. They would find another way to warn the clan.
There was an immediate response from the forest beside the tundra she was crossing. A group of humans emerged, each dressed in forest camouflage. They wore helmets and sophisticated armament. With them came a solitary were dressed in a similar manner. Claire got a good whiff of him then snarled her rage.
Feline were. Cougar. Tiger. Something cat.
Braydon Bennett didn’t really get along with feline weres. He thought they were sly, but he was also the first to admit that all weres came in shades of gray, some good and some bad. One always had to remember that unknown weres should not be trusted until they had proven their worth. But there was that seed of bigotry about the felines. Here was the proof, directing the humans toward her.
“The wolf,” the were yelled in what clearly sounded like a Spanish accent as he pointed at Claire. “That’s one!”
Claire spun to the side and went into flight mode. If Ula hadn’t seen all the humans, then Claire would eat one of her Keen Targhee boots.
Claire escaped into the woods before the men could react to the were’s frantic gestures.
Something slammed against the tree next to her. Not a bullet but some kind of dart with a bright red rubber tailpiece that even now quivered in the tree. When she looked back, she saw one of the humans holding a fancy crossbow. He glanced at her while the were yelled instructions in rapid-fire Spanish.
An elk leapt behind her, and the warbling bugle sound he made indicated that a second dart had hit him squarely. She didn’t look back, but she heard the great animal stumble and crash into the brush.
It was worse than either sister could have imagined. Someone was hunting all right. And not big game in the traditional sense: They were hunting weres.
Claire increased her speed and fell behind a group of whitetail deer fleeing unreservedly through the thick forest. Her presence didn’t encourage them to slow down. The deer couldn’t know that she wasn’t after them now and darted away almost faster than she could follow. She needed to be one target in a large group of other targets. It was possible that she could blend in and find a place to hunker down for the interim. She would have to forget the Willys and head north toward home. It was likely the humans had already located the vehicle and wouldn’t let her use the satphone for a moment.
Ula. Claire’s heart boomed. What’s happened to Ula?
The whitetail deer abruptly scattered into a dozen different directions as they came across another group of humans in a small clearing. Claire only had to look once to see that Ula was unconscious. Naked and in human form, she’d been slung across the shoulders of one of the men. Her black hair spilled down the man’s back. A splotch of blood revealed that the dart had wounded her on her upper back, directly between the shoulder blades. Apparently she’d transformed back into a human before she was shot. But why?
The men startled at the sight of another wolf bearing down on them.
Claire plowed into the human holding Ul
a and knocked him down. Her twisting shape and snapping jaws made the other humans back away.
“It’s the sister!” one of the men yelled. “Dart her! Dart her before she bites one of us!”
It took a few seconds for the words to percolate through Claire’s rage and confusion. These people weren’t just hunting weres, they were specifically hunting Ula and Claire.
A stabbing pain flashed in her side. When Claire twisted to look, she spied the dart protruding from between her ribs. She yanked it away with her teeth and snarled savagely at the man underneath her. Ula had spilled to one side, her limbs dropping away like she was a lifeless doll.
“Again!” yelled the feline were in his heavy Spanish accent.
Another crossbow centered on Claire’s body. She rotated away, and the dart hit the human under her. She could have leaped away to freedom within the shadows of the thick forest, but she faltered, and it was her undoing. She should have left her sister, but no force on Earth could have made her do that.
During her second of hesitation, another human with a compressed air dart rifle shot her. Claire yipped as it hit her rear flank. She twisted and yanked the dart out with her jaws, but it was too late. The drugs had hit her system, and the world turned blurry. Her limbs became as heavy as concrete, and the world turned over sideways as she fell to the ground.
The traitorous were with the Spanish accent stood over her. His hair was black, and his eyes were vividly green. He was tall and clearly alpha enough to be in control, even of humans. “The children of the Bloodletter,” he said. “Good. Keep tightening the net. We might be able to bring in some other weres.”
Claire distantly felt her muscles and bones begin to writhe and rearrange themselves. It was a distorted feeling of change that made her question her consciousness. It seemed like an eternity later that she was lying on cold grass, and her fingers scraped into the dirt. The Bloodletter. The Bloodletter was a story of the boogeyman that weres told to their children, although their mother had never told it to them. Claire had heard it from other parents and other children. If they weren’t good little weres, the Bloodletter would come bite off their heads in the middle of the night.
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