by Claudia King
By the time Adel finished and confirmed to her that she was almost certainly with child, Netya did not know whether to feel happy or sad. She pressed a palm to her belly, wondering whether the spark of life within would indeed grow to become the girl she saw in her dreams. A girl with a destiny so great it had been revealed to her by the moon spirit herself.
"Does it worry you?" Adel said.
"I do not know. Yes, of course, but... I should feel honoured, should I not? To have been shown this vision?"
"Or perhaps your child will be a boy and Syr will laugh as she tumbles around on the stars in your dreams." Adel smiled, taking Netya by the hand. "Nothing is ever certain, but visions like yours should always be heeded. As your den mother, I believe you may have been shown it for a reason."
"I do not know how I can become a mother and raise a child at a time like this. Our pack is still so small, Miral may happen upon us any day—"
"Then worry yourself over him for the time being. You will notice no more changes for many days still."
A chilling thought occurred to Netya as she considered what the future might hold. "What if Miral's clan come, and we are forced to leave?"
"We will not. We will drive them out of our land."
"But if they do," Netya pushed on, "will I be able to travel with the rest of you?"
"Your wolf's body should keep you strong, even when you are with child. If not, Caspian will carry you."
Netya recalled the sight of Miral's hunters charging up behind them when they had been on the way to the gathering. They would have been hard-pressed to outrun them even at the best of times. She tried to swallow the dark image that had crept into her thoughts, but it could not be chased away.
There had been only one other time she recalled Adel assisting an expectant mother.
"When Essie came to you, back with Khelt's pack, you helped her to lose her child."
Adel's face turned a shade paler. "That was the darkest of magic," she whispered. "And I would never use it but for to save a mother's life."
"And what will become of me if I am too burdened to travel? If we need to run, to fight—"
"There will be others to do that for you," Adel snapped.
"I know, and they would lose their own lives to protect me! I could not allow them to do that. I will not be a burden."
Adel's stare bored into her, bitter and uncompromising. "There was a time when your thoughts would never have strayed to such places."
"I think this way because you have taught me to," Netya replied, matching Adel's stubbornness. "Is that not the duty of a den mother, to think about the things others believe unthinkable?"
The corners of Adel's eyes creased, and her harsh look gave way to one of sorrow. "I would still have you hold on to your happiness, not think only of it being taken away from you. If the right time comes, then we will speak of this again, but we must do everything in our power to ensure it does not." She smiled then. "Tell Caspian. Celebrate this. Believe that your vision has meaning."
Netya relaxed slightly, relieved, in a way, that Adel had been so unwilling to discuss the unpleasant subject. It did not bear thinking about. But they faced terrible times, and now that she knew she was with child the worst possible outcomes had become even more dire. Perhaps she would never have to worry herself over such harsh decisions, if the future held what her mentor suspected. Those would be the trials for her daughter to overcome. A daughter with Caspian's strength, Netya's spirit, and Adel's wisdom to shape her.
She touched her stomach again, frightened, but hopeful. She thought of the girl's face in her dream, and it warmed her. She had been clad in Syr's light, blessed with the moon spirit's protection.
"What is she to be, I wonder," she murmured, gazing down at her belly.
"Great destiny or not," Adel said, "she is the future of our pack."
—27—
Into the Mist
Seeming to realise that Netya's mind was in no place to absorb any more lessons that morning, Adel allowed her to leave and spend the rest of the day as she saw fit. The stillness of the camp made her thoughts echo within her head, speaking to themselves in circles as she pondered what the future held. Her legs carried her unconsciously back to her cave, where she stood in the entrance watching Caspian sleep until her feet began to itch. She had hoped he would be awake to help guide her into saying what she needed to say, but by herself she could not quite muster the courage to rouse him. Now that she had time to dwell on them, the feelings that had ignited in Adel's cave grew ever stronger until they squeezed at her throat like tight cords.
Forcing herself to move, she turned away from where her man slept and hurried up the valleyside until she reached the cavern leading to the hidden glade. Meadow dozed inside next to the dull embers of a fire, slumped against the broad wall that now bore an ever-growing collection of painted markings that described the lands surrounding the valley. She looked to have fallen asleep while she was adding yet more details to the southern part of the mural. Netya crept by quietly so as not to wake her.
Splinters from the rough wooden boards lining the ascent in the next chamber pricked at her feet as she climbed, groping in the darkness toward the dim chink of light up above. The urge to call upon her wolf grew stronger, but she did not want her thoughts stifled by her inner beast that morning. A few moments later she stepped out into the glade, closing her eyes as she listened to the leafy rustle of the trees being tugged by the wind, almost indistinguishable from the sound of rushing water rolling up from below. She made her way around the seedlings planted near the edge of the pool and perched herself at the edge, legs dangling off the drop that looked down upon the waterfalls below.
She had been afraid of this. For so many weeks she had avoided making love with Caspian, knowing that a child would only add to their burdens as they struggled to make a new life for themselves. Was the time better now, or worse? She tried to imagine that Alpha Miral did not exist, that they lived in peace and safety hidden within their quiet valley. The thought was a good one, but it still made her uncertain and afraid. She wanted to become a seer, to go out hunting with Fern. She thought she wanted those things more than becoming a mother. Back in Khelt's pack the mothers had been a caste of their own, dedicated to raising the clan's children and taking care of their many needs. It was an honourable path, but not one that seemed right for her. She still felt like she needed a mother herself at times.
Her stomach twisted itself into a tight bunch again, even worse than before. Her breathing became short, and for an instant she felt trapped, bound by a tether to something vast and terrifying, reeling her in with daunting inevitability. Gripping the edge of the rock, she stared down at the pattern of water spilling over the edge of the pool as it dashed itself into drops and rivulets, churning the air into mist. After several deep breaths her pounding heart began to slow, and she called back the memory of her vision to soothe her.
It was meant to be this way. The spirits had chosen this path for her, and Syr watched from her perch among the stars. She clutched a lock of her black hair, twining it about her fingers. Destiny had a path for her. It must have. No matter what happened, she had to trust that it held meaning. Perhaps Miral would never find them. Perhaps he was expending all of his energy fighting with Octavia's clan far away from here. Netya could carry and raise her child in peace, and the day would never come when she had to acknowledge any of the terrible thoughts that circled her like carrion crows. The thoughts of what might happen if Miral did come. Where her child would be raised. What might become of her. And what Netya might have to do to avoid those things happening.
She recalled the bowl of bloody water she had carried out of the seers' cave the morning after Adel helped Essie lose her child, and shuddered.
Netya sat there alone for a long time as the camp came to life below her. She was numb from sitting on the hard rock and chilly from the valleytop breeze by the time she finally decided to move. Once she began to focus on other thing
s, she started feeling a little better. Despite Adel's advice, she did not particularly want to celebrate the news she had received that morning. Not yet. Not until her own heart had settled. She did not know how to tell Caspian, either. The thought of keeping it a secret from him pained her after everything they had been through, but how could she tell him when she did not even fully grasp it herself? She needed time. Time for things to continue as normal while she eased herself into accepting it. Once the intermittent feelings of panic stopped squeezing at her stomach, then she could find the words to tell him.
She distracted herself for a short while by bathing in the pool, but within moments she was freezing and shivering, and she quickly put her clothing back on and hurried down to see if Meadow had awoken and rekindled her fire.
In the cave below she found not just Meadow, but a whole host of her brothers and sisters gathered before the wall painting. Fern stood at the forefront, with Meadow at her side and a collection of her hunting companions facing them. Wren and Pera peered in from the entrance, clearly having tagged along without invitation.
"What is going on?" she asked as she stepped forward, picking her way over the dusty red rocks.
Fern gave her a determined, but somewhat troubled smile. "There are clouds coming in from the west again. The rains are arriving early this year."
"And we need more food," Kin said, gesturing at the wall. "Fern says the hunting grounds in Miral's territory will offer up all we need."
Eyan squinted at the markings on the wall, his brow knotted with intense concentration. "This painting tells us where to go?"
Meadow nodded enthusiastically. "This mark means our valley." She pointed to a bent line near the centre of the mural. "This one means the river, see how it is to the west of the valley mark?"
Eyan stared at the marking for a moment, then shook his head slowly. "No, west is that way." He pointed out of the cave's entrance.
"He's right, for once," Kin said, raising his eyebrows at the two women. "You put all your marks on the cave's north wall. How are we to make sense of them if they all point in the same direction?"
"You are not supposed to look at them like that," Meadow said patiently, turning to the mural and spreading her palms out in front of it. "Imagine you are a bird in the sky, and this wall is the land as you gaze down on it. This is the valley, this is north, east, south, and west."
Eyan still looked deeply confused. Kin tilted his head from side to side, trying to orient himself to the details of the painting.
"It is simple," Meadow continued. "If something is above the valley, it means it is to the north. And these spots next to each mark," she pointed to a series of coloured fingerprints below one of the symbols, "each one of these means a half day of travel on the legs of your wolf to get there. So to reach this river here, you travel to the east for half a day. You see?"
Eyan's blank look remained resolutely engrained upon his face, and Kin shrugged and looked to Fern.
"Fern knows how to get there. She will show us, and then we will need no painting."
"I made this mural so you would not need a guide," Meadow muttered, but the hurt in her voice was timid enough that Kin seemed not to notice it.
"Has Adel given you permission to hunt in Miral's territory, then?" Netya asked, her previous worries dulling in place of new ones.
Fern exchanged a look with her group. "We do not plan to hunt without her approval, but we fear she will need convincing."
"Then why are you already making plans to go across the river?"
"It would only be a scouting group, just a few of us. If we can track down a herd close to our territory then the den mother will be sure to grant us permission to hunt."
"But you will not ask her first, in case she forbids it?" Netya folded her arms, offering up her best imitation of her mentor's icy glare.
"You know how cautious the den mother can be!" Fern implored her. "We already send scouts all the way to the river. We would barely be going out of our way. Then I promise, if Adel forbids it, then of course we will do as she says." She offered Netya a hopeful smile. "But I think we would all rather she did not."
Netya sighed. Fern was the one with the most experience hunting in these lands. As much as Netya feared tempting fate, especially with everything that was on her mind that morning, the threat of going hungry that winter was every bit as real as the danger Miral posed. And Adel, for all of her wisdom, was no more a huntress than Netya. A wise alpha trusted his hunters to do what they did best, did he not?
"Ask Adel first," she said. "She will listen to you, and then there will be no need to risk her anger.
"She has no time for us, she spends all day hidden away in the caves with the rest of you seers!" Kin said. "Must we ask her permission every time we cock a leg to piss, too?"
A couple of the others laughed, but Netya and Meadow wore expressions devoid of amusement.
"You are fortunate she was not around to overhear you say that," Netya said. "Her or any of the other senior females."
Kin waved a hand dismissively. "You know I respect the den mother, but we—"
"Do you think you know better than her?" Netya cut him off, her voice becoming heated. She did not dislike Kin, but he was starting to test her patience. There had been no voices of dissent within the pack before he arrived, aside from the occasional indignant comment from Lyucia.
"We are her hunters," the young man retorted, deflecting her accusation with a grin. "We just want to hunt. If you worry so much then come with us, then you can tell your den mother how good we have been."
"Netya is right," Fern said, taking a far more patient tone than her friend. She was a lot better at dealing with Kin and his brothers than Netya, partially because of her status as the pack's senior huntress, but also because they knew winning her favour also meant winning her talents between the furs. "We must ask the den mother's permission before we venture into Miral's territory, even to scout."
Kin gave her an exasperated look, then threw up his hands in resignation and paced over to the back of the cave.
"The den mother went away with Selo to check on the bear," Wren piped up from her spot just outside the entrance.
"Excellent, then we can sit idle all day waiting for her to return," Kin muttered.
"We'll hunt as normal," Fern said. "I can take you to the river while we're out there, then you will all know the way if the den mother gives us permission to cross into Miral's lands." She looked to Netya hopefully. "Would you like to come with us? If Adel is away then perhaps you can escape your duties for a while."
Netya sensed it was her friend's way of hinting that it was a good opportunity to spend some time together, and after a moment of consideration she agreed. It would be nice to get away from her thoughts for a while and allow them to settle. If she remained back at the den on her own she would only spend all day agonising over the news she had received that morning.
A heavy mist had begun to settle over the land surrounding the valley, making the light haze of the waterfalls seem clear and crisp by comparison. As they padded upon their wolves' paws through the quiet undergrowth at the end of the valley the sound of tinkling bone chimes stole through the fog, each delicate, hollow-sounding tap adding its own unique chill to the air. The skeletal charms hanging in the trees peered down at them, as grim and curious as ever. A bird skull with splayed twigs for wings leered over Netya as she crept past, a single droplet of moisture rolling down the sharp piece of black flint that now served as its beak.
If the grisly totems could appear so unsettling to the very people who had fashioned them, then Netya suspected they would be twice as terrifying to any stranger.
A stole of grey cloud wrapped itself around the sun, but thankfully it brought with it no rain. The mist was their only companion that morning, and it clung to the small hunting pack doggedly as they left the valley behind them and began their run to the west.
The simplicity of her wolf's thoughts and the elation of being a
ble to stretch her legs had the desired effect of soothing Netya's concerns. Her feral side seemed content, even proud to be bearing Caspian's child. And a daughter of such great destiny, too! She wished she could continue carrying her wolf's straightforward optimism with her after she returned to two legs, but all too quickly the sun's glow was reaching its zenith behind the thin clouds, and the splashing sound of the river reached Netya's ears.
Having caught no scent of prey along the way, the journey had been quick and direct. Part of Netya was glad that they would likely be back not too long after nightfall. Unlike her brothers and sisters who had been born pure of the Moon People's blood, Netya's kind had been raised to fear the dark and the creatures that dwelt within it. Even in the shape of her wolf some of that unease still lingered, and she had never relished the idea of hunting through the night without a fire nearby.
But their lack of success in finding prey only reinforced the fact that their land was no longer suitable for sustaining a pack of their size. They needed edible crops, or herds of animals to hunt, and only one of those things was feasible before winter arrived.
Fern brought the pack to a halt and allowed them some time to rest at the bank of the river. Aside from Kin, Eyan, and two more of the young men, young Pera had also tagged along after puffing out his chest and informing Wren that she should stay behind while the men went out to hunt. Fern had made no objection to it, and after seeing how devoid of prey the land was Netya had to concede that the boy was unlikely to be in any danger on this particular hunt.
The seven of them lined up at the water's edge, dipping their muzzles and lapping eagerly at the cool water to slake their thirst. Somewhere beyond the shrubs on the other side lay Miral's territory, though where exactly he marked the borders of his land Netya did not know. The mist made eerie silhouettes of the trees in the distance. She shivered and looked back down at her rippling reflection.
