Moon Chosen--Tales of a New World

by P. C. Cast

  Sitting atop neatly folded blankets and winter clothes was her mother’s Healer’s journal. She touched it gently, feeling the texture of its aged cover with the tips of her fingers. All children of the Clan were taught to read and write and to discover their individual talents as they grew and matured. Clanswomen encouraged creativity and hard work, and whenever a child displayed a particular talent—like for poetry, carpentry, hunting, weaving, or dyeing—that child was given further instruction, even if it meant fostering them with a neighboring Clan. But from birth the daughters of Moon Women were trained differently. They were nurtured specially by their mothers because in their future they could hold the key to the Clan’s health, sanity, and, ultimately, the Clan’s history recorded in their Healer’s journals.

  “Mama’s journal—Mama’s magickal journal,” Mari murmured. “No matter how many times you explained to me that your journal wasn’t full of fantastical stories, but of nothing more, or less, than the truth of the Clan, I always thought of it as your special magick.” She opened it, and it fell to a page that was marked by the brilliant blue feather of a jay. Mari’s trembling fingers traced Leda’s familiar handwriting.

  “Mari, my sweet girl, do your best, but don’t second-guess yourself. Indecision is as deadly as not doing anything. If you believe in yourself half as much as I believe in you, all will be well. I love you.”

  For just a moment it was as if Leda was there with her, standing beside her, lending Mari confidence through the strength of the belief she always had in her beloved daughter. Mari hugged the journal to her. Then she wiped her eyes, collected herself, reopened the book, and began to thumb through the pages.

  * * *

  The Skin Stealers led Thaddeus through their ruined City at a pace that had him struggling to carry Odysseus and keep up with them. Then a very strange thing began to happen. About the time the waterfront came into view, it seemed to Thaddeus that he found his second wind. Suddenly Odysseus didn’t feel heavy. The pain and burning that had been his secret companion for the weeks since the stag’s blood had soaked into his body from his eyes and mouth stopped.

  Just like that. As it had begun—the pain ended.

  Thaddeus drew a deep, pain-free breath and in that breath he smelled something. A lot of somethings. He could smell the water, though it was barely close enough to see. He smelled something sharp and dirty—and at the edge of his vision he saw a rodent the size of a rabbit dart from one of the ruined buildings to another.

  I smelled the rodent! How the hell did I do that?

  He caught the scent of something sweet and fragrant when the wind changed direction. It seemed like jasmine, but he saw none in the vines around him. Then they turned the corner, and another. He almost missed it because it was so damn small. Just two little vines being choked out by ivy, but the two vines together had four small white flowers.

  I smelled jasmine well before I should have, even if it had been a huge, blooming bush and not four tiny, wilting flowers. What is happening to me?

  “This way. We beached the little boat down there.” The Skin Stealer called Iron Fist pointed at the river.

  Thaddeus nodded and changed direction to where he was pointing. The Skin Stealers moved in almost complete silence. All of them wore only pants made of roughly tanned animal skins. Their heads were shaved and their bare torsos were painted with strange splashes of lines and symbols that decorated their arms, chest, and even necks and heads. As Thaddeus studied them he noticed that all of the designs were repeated in threes—like the triple tip of the huge spear the statue of their God carried. There were only men in the party that surrounded him, but he would not soon forget the women that had stood watching him on the scaffold, silent and strangely alluring. The oddest of all of them had been the eyeless girl who was obviously mated to their Champion. The caverns that should have been her eyes would haunt his future dreams as surely as would the memory of her nubile breasts, full lips, and the thick fall of glossy brown hair that brushed the slender curve of her waist.

  “There. Your boat is there.” Iron Fist had come to a halt at the top of the bank that led down to the river.

  Thaddeus nodded and began to pick his way carefully down the bank, holding his wounded Terrier close. He reached the kayak easily, as he moved much more quickly than he’d realized. He looked back then, not sure what he was supposed to say to the Skin Stealers—almost expecting them to change their mind at the end and pull him back through their dead City to the bloody scaffold.

  They were gone.

  Thaddeus didn’t pause to wonder. He hurried to the kayak, settling Odysseus as comfortably as possible in the belly of the boat, broke off the one ballast that had made it through the battle, took the paddle that was still tied to the rear seat, and with a mighty push launched it from the bank, jumping in with an athletic ease that seemed remarkably Terrier-like.

  He bent to work, paddling against the current. At first he was worried that he wouldn’t be strong enough to guide the kayak past the bridge debris and run-offs, but Thaddeus soon realized that he was beyond strong enough. He paddled the kayak with ease. It shot down the river as if a team of Hunters propelled it forward.

  Surely this is just adrenaline. Surely as soon as my body realizes we escaped it will wear off.

  But it didn’t. Thaddeus was filled with a tightly wound strength that mirrored the anger that seemed ever present within him. It didn’t fade. It didn’t wear off. It only increased.

  Odysseus whined plaintively, and Thaddeus paused a moment to stroke the little Terrier, murmuring reassurances. As he did so, Thaddeus looked down at his arm. At his wrist and elbow creases the bandages had dried. Slowly, he unwrapped the cloth from around his wrist.

  The wound had already begun to heal. It was closing around the strip of flesh the Champion had cut from Odysseus. Old, dead skin was sloughing from around it. Thaddeus brushed at it in disgust, and it shed from him, revealing healthy, pink skin beneath. Thaddeus stared, enthralled by what he was seeing. With hands that shook with haste, he unwrapped the next bandage around his elbow. It was the same there! His cracked skin was mending, absorbing Odysseus’s flesh, and the infected skin was shedding from him.

  Thaddeus lifted his arm, flexing it, feeling powerful and whole.

  “Cure me? No. I don’t need a damn cure. I don’t need a damn cure at all.” Thaddeus bent to pick up the paddle again, thinking, The Champion was right. I’m not sick. I’m changed. And I like it. I like it a lot.

  * * *

  When Mari finally made it back to Rigel and Sora and Nik she was sweating and thoroughly tired of trying to maneuver the light, but ungainly, litter. With a relieved sigh, she put the litter and Leda’s well-worn medicine satchel down close to where Nik was lying, and then went over to Rigel, telling him how brave and good he was to have kept watch.

  “You know, I was watching, too,” Sora said.

  “Thank you,” Mari said. Then she grinned at Sora. “Do you want me to pet you?”

  Sora giggled. “I think you should save your energy for him.”

  “Is he conscious?” Mari asked as she knelt beside Nik.

  Sora shrugged. “I don’t know. He was awake while I was drying him and covering him up with your shift—which is, by the way, entirely too small for him. But he didn’t say anything except to groan a little. He opened his eyes a few times since, but all he did was stare at your creature.”

  Mari pressed her fingers to Nik’s wrist, finding his pulse easily. It was strong, but faster than she’d like it to be, and his skin felt cold and clammy. She was about to call his name when he opened his eyes.

  “Gray,” he said softly, his voice sounding as if he wasn’t quite awake. “Your eyes are gray.”

  “How are you doing, Nik?” She ignored his comment about her eyes.

  “Been better,” he said. “Back hurts. Skin Stealer’s spear got me.”

  “I see that. I brought you something for the pain. Drink this and it’ll help.” Mari n
odded at Sora. “Lift his shoulders a little so that he can drink, but be careful of that spear wound.” While Sora held him Mari put the skin to his lips.

  Nik looked at her, hesitating. Then his lips curved up slightly. “Easier ways to kill me than poison.”

  “I voted for slitting your throat with your very sharp knife, but Mari and her creature outvoted me,” Sora said.

  “Ignore her,” Mari said. “I mostly do.”

  As Nik drank his eyes smiled up at Mari. When the skin was empty, she helped Sora lay him gently down.

  “All right, I’m going to get you ready to be moved while that tea’s working,” Mari said.

  “Moved?” Nik said.

  “Can’t stay here. The swarm will eat you,” Sora said. “Not that I think that’s a bad thing, but again, I’ve been outvoted.”

  “I’m taking you to my burrow—my home,” Mari said. “It’s not far from here, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to be an easy trip. We’re up high, and to get you home we have to go down low.”

  “How?” Nik asked.

  Mari cut her eyes at the litter she’d put beside him. “Well, I’m going to strap you to that, and then Sora and I are going to carry and, possibly, drag you down there.”

  “Sounds like it’s going to hurt,” Nik said.

  “Oh, it’s going to hurt for sure. A lot,” Sora said gleefully.

  “You’ll be fine once the tea starts working. Let me know when you feel numb.”

  “Why?” Nik asked.

  Mari frowned at him, wondering if she’d underestimated the severity of his head injury. “Because I don’t want to jostle you around until the painkiller starts working.”

  “No, I mean why are you saving me instead of killing me?”

  “That was my vote,” Sora said.

  Mari sent her a shut up look, and then faced Nik. “I’m not a killer.”

  “Don’t have to be a killer. You could leave me here to die.”

  “Let’s just say Rigel wouldn’t like it if you died, and right now that’s good enough reason to at least attempt to save you,” Mari said. Then she motioned for Sora to follow her to the litter. She started to go through the hemp ropes, and rummaged through the satchel to find a biting stick. Sora followed her, peering over her shoulder. “First, we’re going to slide him onto the litter.” Mari spoke softly for Sora’s ears alone. “Then we need to tie him to it—securely. He can’t fall out when we lift him down the waterfall.”

  “Why don’t we just put him in the litter and float him to the waterfall. Actually, we could float him over the waterfall. If he lives it’ll be the Goddess’s will. If he doesn’t,” she shrugged, “then it’s not Her will that he lives and he dies.”

  “No to the floating, but only because I don’t think he can tolerate the cold of the water again. And I’m not going to talk about sending him over the waterfall because it would definitely kill him, which I don’t think is a sign from the Goddess. I think She’s too busy to worry about one half-dead Companion and a couple almost Moon Women.” Mari rolled her eyes and shook her head. “It would be more helpful if you actually helped.”

  “All right. I’m sorry. I was just teasing. Mostly. Tell me what to do.”

  Mari glanced back at Nik. “How are you feeling now?”

  He looked at her, his moss green eyes looking unfocused and glassy. “Ssssleepy.”

  “Good. Sora and I are going to get you on this litter. We’re going to tie you down so you don’t fall off. We’ll be as gentle and quick as possible, but, well…”

  “Let’ssss hope I passss out?” Nik slurred.

  “I’m counting on it,” Mari muttered. She moved the litter so that it butted up to Nik’s body, then she motioned for Sora to take his legs. “On three lift and slide him over. One, two, three!” Nik closed his eyes and moaned, but Mari was quick about it and set to using the woven ropes to tie him securely to the litter.

  When he was tied as tightly as she and Sora could manage, Mari knelt beside him. “Nik?”

  His eyes fluttered and then slitted open. “Are we there yet?” He spoke as if his tongue was too big for his mouth.

  “No. Uh, not yet. But we will be pretty soon. I need you to bite down on this. It’s willow bark, so besides not letting you bite through your tongue it’ll help with the pain. I also need to wrap this around your eyes.” Mari pulled a strip of bandaging from her pocket.

  “Why cover my eyes?”

  “Because I’ll heal you, but I won’t let you see where I live. Do you understand?”

  Nik nodded weakly. “You’re really sssssmart—not like an overgrown child at all.”

  Mari frowned at him.

  “That’s a weird thing to say,” Sora said, peeking over her shoulder at Nik.

  He started to answer, but Mari shut him up by putting the stick to his mouth. Obediently, he opened and then bit down on it. Then she quickly tied the cloth around his head and over his eyes.

  “All set, Nik?”

  He nodded again.

  “Okay, good. Sora, I’ll lead. Let me know when you need to rest, but don’t make it too often,” Mari told Sora.

  “What if I get tired often?”

  “Look at the sky,” Mari said.

  Questioningly, Sora glanced upward, then looked back at Mari.

  “Where’s the sun?” Mari prompted her.

  “Oh, Great Goddess! It’s moving down the sky. If we get caught outside at dusk with him, his blood will bring roaches, and beetles, wolf spiders, and—”

  “And that’s why you’re not going to rest often,” Mari said. She took hold of her end of the litter, telling Sora, “Remember to lift with your legs.”

  * * *

  Mari would never forget that terrible journey back to the burrow, though out of it came two promises she made to herself. The first was that she was going to figure out how to get Sora into decent shape. The girl was all curves and softness with, Mari was sure, not one single muscle beneath her smooth facade.

  The second promise she made to herself was to simplify her life—no Sora. No Nik the Companion. No nothing that would cause stress and confusion and angst. She was going to patch Nik up—get answers to her questions—send him on his way. Then she was going to be sure Sora could call down the moon—and send her on her way as well. Then she and Rigel were going to find some much deserved peace.

  “I can’t,” Sora gasped, dropping the foot end of the litter and causing Nik to groan through the biting stick—again. “I’m sorry, but I can’t carry him any farther.”

  Behind her, Rigel whined softly. More carefully than Sora, Mari put her end of the litter down and caressed the pup, reassuring him wordlessly that they were almost safe—almost home.

  Mari looked at Sora, assessing the truthfulness of whether her energy was really spent or not. The girl was dripping sweat. Her thick, dark hair was plastered to her face and neck. Her arms were shaking and her breath was coming in gasps.

  Thankfully, she’d dropped the litter just before the entrance to the bramble thicket. More carefully, Mari bent to speak to Nik. “Do you think you can walk? It’s not far now.”

  He was so pale and still that with half of his face covered Mari wondered for a moment if he’d died during the last part of the trip. She was reaching to check his pulse when he mumbled, “Don’t know.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to try. Sora, get my stick. I’ll help Nik walk. You’ll have to listen to my directions, and we’ll get through the brambles. I hope.”

  “Anything to be able to sit down and rest and have a nice cup of tea,” Sora said.

  Mari almost told her that resting wasn’t going to be on the agenda for either of them that night, but when she met Sora’s gray gaze and saw the honest exhaustion there, she thought better of it. Instead she smiled and said, “You’ve done a really good job helping me. We’re almost there. Sit over there near the entrance and out of the poison oak. Rest while I untie him.”

  Sora nodded wearily and d
ropped to her butt. Mari worked the knots undone quickly. Then, murmuring encouragement to the semiconscious man, Mari draped his arm around her shoulders as she grasped him around the waist.

  “Once you’re inside turn immediately to your left. When you lift up the first branch you’ll see the path. Follow it about ten paces, then it’ll look like it turns to the left again, but it won’t. It dead-ends into more brambles. Instead, go to the right.”

  “Okay,” Sora said, reluctantly stepping into the brambles.

  “Nik, lean on me. We’re walking now.”

  It was harder than Mari had thought it would be. Nik kept stumbling and swaying. Mari was positive he almost passed out a couple of times, but she kept talking to him, and calling directions to Sora and, to her surprise, they actually made it to the door of the burrow with only a few scratches.

  “Where are you putting him?” Sora asked as she collapsed in front of the hearth, poking the fire tiredly so that it flamed to life.

  “On my bed. He needs to be close to the fire.”

  “I thought that was my bed now,” Sora said.

  “You sleep in Leda’s bed. I’ll make up a pallet for myself by the hearth. He’s going to need tending all night.” And I need to be sure he doesn’t wake and try to find his way out of here, Mari added silently to herself. She guided Nik to the narrow pallet she’d slept on for most of her life. With a long sigh he lay back. “I’m going to take the blindfold off now,” she told him. She unwrapped the cloth, and he blinked blearily up at her.

  “Where am I?”

  “Home. Well, my home. Rest while I get things ready to take care of that wound in your back.” Mari went to Sora. “Start boiling water.”

  “Oh, Goddess, yes! Time for tea.”