Daughter of the Moon (The Moon People, Book Two)

by Claudia King

  Pera had managed to keep up with the rest of them on the legs of his fledgeling wolf, but the journey had clearly exhausted him, and so Fern allowed him to rest for a little longer while the others scouted up and down the length of the river for any appetising scents they might find.

  "Will we catch something to eat soon?" the boy asked.

  "I don't know," Fern replied. "Hunters sometimes go days without food. Some say that starving ourselves before we begin the hunt makes our senses sharper. Hungry wolves hunt better than well-fed ones."

  "I don't."

  Fern laughed. "Then you will have to help us catch something to fill your belly."

  Netya brushed a handful of soil from a leafy plant she had spent the last few moments prying out of the ground, revealing a cluster of knuckle-sized tubers dangling from the roots. She washed them off in the river and twisted one loose, tossing it to Pera. "Try these. They are tough but sweet. If you look up and down the riverbank you should find more."

  The boy looked as though he would have much preferred a mouthful of fresh meat, but soon after popping the crunchy vegetable into his mouth he wandered off to scour the edge of the river for more. Netya and Fern headed in the other direction to do the same, and before long they were out of sight of the others.

  "What is worrying you?" the huntress asked after several long moments of silence.

  Netya hesitated to reply, her stomach jolting as she considered telling Fern the truth. "There is a lot to worry about," she said simply.

  "Have you been arguing with Caspian again? I thought you were wildly in love once more." Fern grinned, cocking her head to the side in contemplation. "Perhaps not wildly. You two are more like graceful dragonflies dancing together than wild wolves, especially when I saw you teaching the others with those spears. Caspian only becomes wild when he thinks no one can hear the two of you in your cave." She gripped her friend's shoulders and gave her a teasing shake.

  Unable to resist a grin, Netya twisted out of Fern's grasp and turned to face her, but her smile faltered once their eyes met. Fern had always been there to comfort and counsel her from the day she arrived with the Moon People.

  "It is not that," she said in faltering tones. "Well... perhaps it is, or perhaps it will be. I do not know."

  "So something is wrong."

  Netya shook her head. "Not wrong— Oh, but perhaps it is the most wrong!" She threw her hands in the air, feeling all the emotions that had built up that morning beginning to spill out. "I should be happy, and perhaps I will be, but I did not except this, not yet! And at such a time... My thoughts should be on the pack, on Adel's teachings. I should be focused on protecting us, as everyone else is, but now I can think of no one and nothing but myself!"

  Fern frowned, but she did not interrupt.

  Netya took a steadying breath before going on. "Adel told me I am carrying Caspian's child. And I have had dreams of it, visions warning me of some great destiny."

  Fern's features relaxed into a look of understanding. She did not need anything more explained to her. She herself had always been adamant that she did not want to become a mother until she was mated and well settled. Had she been in her friend's position, she would likely have felt the same way.

  "Oh Netya, now is no time for a child," she said.

  "That is what worries me so."

  Fern paused for a moment, and Netya could sense their thoughts were skirting the same uncomfortable subject. "The seers have a way, do they not, to stop it from happening?"

  "Yes," Netya admitted, "I once saw Adel use that magic on Essie, but she says it is dark and wicked. And if the spirits are sending me visions of my daughter, how can I go against their will?"

  "What does Caspian say? Surely he would know what is best."

  "I have not told him yet. I do not know how. What if he tells me to do something I do not wish to hear?"

  Fern bit her lip, and, seeming at a loss for words, moved forward to embrace her friend. Netya shared the hug gratefully, letting out the long, painful breath that had been tightening in her lungs since she began speaking.

  "What can we do but follow the spirits' will?" Fern said quietly.

  Netya was about to respond when the sharp crack of a stick echoed from across the river, followed by a flurry of rustling foliage and a scatter of panicked hoofbeats. She and Fern broke their embrace instinctively, crouching down in the long grass fringing the riverbank. A tall stag leaped into view on the far side of the water, antlers bobbing as he darted between the trees, before vanishing a moment later into the mist.

  "If only he was on this side of the river," Fern said dejectedly, rising back to her feet. Then another rustle of footfalls filled the air, and before the huntress had a chance to duck down again two large wolves, freshly wet and dripping, burst out of the undergrowth charging full-pelt after the stag.

  "Was that—?" Netya began.

  "Kin and Eyan!" Fern growled. "I told them not to cross over! What is wrong with males?!"

  A moment later the two other wolves followed in their wake and, much to Fern's apparent horror, Pera brought up the rear.

  "All of you, stop!" Fern yelled across the water, but they had already vanished into the mist. Netya thought she caught a glimpse of Pera pausing to look back, but a moment later he was gone too.

  "We cannot tell the den mother of this," Fern said, raking her hands through her hair in frustration. "I should have known!"

  "Has Kin done anything like this before?" Netya asked. It seemed apparent who the instigator was, for Eyan and the others had a habit of following rather than leading.

  "He never took the others to break off from a hunt on his own! Oh, but I always had Caspian or Terim or more of the others with me. I am a fool!"

  "We can catch them before they go too far. Come," Netya said, dropping the handful of plants she had been holding and shifting into the shape of her wolf. After feeling so trapped by the news of her future, taking action appealed to her more than usual that day, and she was in the water and paddling before Fern could stop her.

  Thankfully the huntress was in no mood to argue, and soon the pair of them were clambering up the far bank and shaking themselves dry. They dashed after the others as fast as they could, letting the heat of their bodies fight back the chill of the river as they dove into the mist—and the lands of the rival alpha that lay beyond.

  —28—

  Miral's Territory

  It soon became clear that the two females could not keep up with the men. Even Pera, miraculously, seemed able to outpace Fern and Netya as they followed an ever-colder trail leading east. Netya could almost feel the frustration billowing off her companion the longer they ran, both at herself and the ones they were chasing. Even the young seer knew enough about hunting to understand that charging after a lone beast for so long was foolish and wasteful if there was no plan to drive it into difficult terrain or wear it down. As soon as it escaped them they should have stopped, waited, and stalked it carefully until they found a better chance to strike. Kin and his companions had simply latched on to the chance at a glorious kill and were too stubborn to abandon it.

  To make matters worse, Netya realised after a time that her untrained nose had failed to pick up on the disappearance of Pera and Eyan's scents from the trail they were following. Once she faltered and tried to draw Fern's attention to the fact, it became apparent that they had no choice but to stop and reconsider what they were doing.

  "They will tire themselves out eventually and come back, won't they?" Netya tried to reassure her friend as she paced back and forth in agitation.

  "Eventually. How long do you think it will take for Kin's pride to wear thin?" Fern said. "He might follow that stag all day and night before he comes back to admit his mistake. Nevermind that he has a hungry boy trying to impress him by keeping up," she muttered the last angrily.

  "Perhaps Eyan went with Pera to bring him back? He may not be the quickest to realise it, but he has more sense than most of his brothe
rs."

  "Maybe." A conflicted look crossed Fern's face. "When Kin is not leading him on."

  Netya was suddenly reminded of how glad she was that Caspian was several years older than the men closer to her and Fern's age. Older, and less prone to the compulsions of pride and honour that seemed to rob them of all good sense.

  "Should we split up?" Fern said, beginning to sound a little desperate. "We must find Pera, but if the others keep going deeper into Miral's territory..."

  "You are better at tracking than me," Netya replied, glancing up and down the path they had taken. The mist was thinning, as were the trees. She suspected they would soon emerge into open land, where a lone scout might spy trespassers from many leagues away. If the fog lifted before they could find Kin and the others, they would be in more danger than ever. "Do you trust Eyan?" she said.

  Fern hesitated, then, with no small amount of reluctance, nodded her head. "I trust him to do what is right more than I trust Kin to avoid being foolish."

  "That may have to do," Netya said. "We have to think of the pack. If Eyan can take care of Pera then we should do our best to find Kin before he leaves our clan's scent all over Miral's hunting grounds."

  It surprised her to see how quickly Fern nodded in agreement, acquiescing to Netya's plan almost as instinctively as if the instruction had come from the den mother herself. They took the shapes of their wolves again and continued on after Kin's trail, though at a slower pace this time. There was no point in trying to keep up with the men; it would only exhaust them to try. Better to conserve their energy and try to catch up when Kin and his companions inevitably slowed to rest.

  Travelling through a hostile clan's territory reminded Netya of when she had departed from her people's village for the final time. The same invisible threat hung heavy in the air, though this time she was thankful that there were no groups of hunters stalking her. Not yet, at least.

  But her hopes of catching up to Kin before he strayed too far grew thinner by the moment. The mist was blowing away on a fresh breeze, flares of sunlight spilling through the hazy fog above them as the weather brightened. If only the rainy season could have chosen this day to roll in again. She wondered, with the customary awe of her wolf's simple mind, whether it was a sign. She had heard tales of shamans who could call sun and rain alike. What if Miral had such men in his clan, chasing away the fog to reveal their enemies?

  Adel's voice echoed in the back of her mind telling her not to be foolish, that such magic was impossible. She tried to listen to it and ignore the steadily brightening landscape fading into view around them, but it was hard to slow the anxious pounding of her heart as she trotted through the undergrowth. Miral's hunting grounds were certainly worthy of claim by any alpha, lush and light green even with the turning of the seasons. The open land around them sloped downwards, finally revealing a great valley many leagues wide once the mist lifted. Shining rivers looped their way down from the mountainous hills on either side, weaving between sparse thickets and swathes of well-grazed grass. On the hillside to the north Netya could already make out one cluster of small black shapes, a herd large enough to feed a pack for many months. It was no wonder Fern had been keen to hunt here.

  But despite the light of the sun showing them the way, there was still no sign of Kin and the others up ahead. They must have already disappeared into the thickets. It was hard to imagine they had chased one lone stag all this way, but perhaps they had caught the scent of some other prey by now. Even Netya found her muzzle twitching at the tantalising smells of wild animals that laced the air here. She had eaten nothing but a handful of tubers since morning, and the sun was starting to weigh heavy in the sky. They had been heading deeper into the valley for most of the afternoon, farther and farther from the safety of their own lands. With a sickening drop of her stomach, Netya resigned herself to the fact that they would be facing the night by themselves in unfamiliar territory. Rather than dwelling on all of the terrible things that might happen if Miral's pack were also out hunting that night, she instead focused on what she—and Adel—would have to say to Kin when they finally dragged him back to the valley. She could think of plenty of appropriate words, both in her own language and that of the Moon People. He had done foolish things before, but never anything so reckless. Perhaps they had been too lenient with their new pack members. Maybe Miral had been right when he said they were weak—

  She caught herself before her thoughts could stray any further down that treacherous path. Enough doubts had already harried her that day. She, Caspian, Adel; whoever ended up dealing with Kin and his companions would just have to make sure that nothing like this ever happened again.

  It was approaching twilight by the time they started sniffing their way through the thickets at the base of the valley, where Kin's trail finally slowed into a meandering, aimless mess of overlapping scents and disturbed foliage. Netya's frustration simmered beneath her fur again as her empty stomach growled. It would take an especially dim-witted hunter indeed to miss the careless trail the men had left. Her only consolation was that she had not picked up the scent of any other wolves along the way. Of course, perhaps her untrained nose was simply missing the hints, as it had done earlier, but Fern's more experienced wolf showed no signs of alarm either. If Miral's clan hunted here, then they did not appear to have ventured through these particular thickets recently.

  It was tricky to discern where Kin had led the others after they finished traipsing up and down the wooded area, but after a time it became apparent that they had eventually stripped a pair of small bushes free of edible berries before moving on, presumably still in search of the stag they had no doubt lost by now. The urgency pushing at the back of Netya's mind spurred her to press on, but she groped past the agitation of her wolf's thoughts to remind herself that she was hungry and tired. Her focus was slipping, and with it the energy that had been driving her all afternoon.

  Finally she forced herself to stop, bringing their pursuit to a halt where the thicket ended and a broad but shallow, rock-strewn creek separated them from the next stretch of trees farther down the valley. Another murky veil of cloud had stolen across the sky, bringing with it the distant patter of rain that threatened to make tracking twice as difficult once it arrived. But it was already too late to hope they could catch up with the others before the bad weather arrived. Trying to track through the night with rain to mask the scents and sounds around them would be an exercise in futility.

  She shared her concerns with Fern, who was quick to agree. The pair of them spent the night huddled beneath a spur of rock that jutted out over the edge of the creek like the claw of some enormous stone animal straining to escape the earth. Cold and weary, they shared a few handfuls of edible leaves and roots they had managed to scavenge prior to nightfall, taking the edge off their hunger long enough for them to rest. Fern had tried to stalk what she thought was an otter along the edge of the creek, but the critter had startled and disappeared into the water before she could get close. Bounteous hunting grounds or not, the two young women found little fortune in sating their appetites that evening.

  They huddled close together for warmth, clad in their wolves' fur as one slept and the other kept watch over the rippling water before them. Netya did not think she had faced a more troubled night of sleep in her life. Even when she had been fleeing from the Sun People she had succumbed to exhaustion in the end, providing a miserable yet welcome respite from her situation. This time, though, her thoughts chased her through the night, disturbing her sleep constantly. The prospect of waking up with a pack of Miral's hunters slavering over them was terrifying enough, but between the hours she sat awake keeping watch and the dreams that followed she was forced to imagine dozens upon dozens of terrible outcomes to their situation. The blue world in her recurring vision turned red, and this time she was running from the gathering with every wolf in the world snapping at her heels, chasing a child who kept disappearing from view up ahead. First it was Pera, then it seemed to b
e the girl she had seen before. Exhaustion dragged at her steps, and when she finally snapped awake she felt almost as if she had not slept at all.

  Shaken, chilly, and still suffering from the echoes of hunger, she crept out from beneath the spur, wishing more than anything that she was back in her comfortable cave with Caspian beside her. If only he was there with them. She would have felt immensely more confident with her man at her side, lending his cunning and his strength to her own. An invisible hook seemed to tug at her belly as she thought of the small life now growing within her, and the father, now leagues distant, who knew nothing of it. If the worst were to happen out here, would he ever know? Adel might never tell him. She would not want to make such a loss any harder to bear.

  Seeming to sense that her friend was lost in some bleak melancholy, Fern gave her a nudge with her muzzle, tugging playfully at the side of her ear with her teeth. With a quiet bark of reassurance, Netya resigned herself once more to the task at hand.

  The rain had stopped shortly before morning, and the sun was shining once again. Tracking Kin across the creek was as good as impossible, but once they reached the trees on the other side it became much easier to distinguish individual scents from the smell of the rain. The undergrowth had preserved many of the phantom smells trapped beneath it, and along with the disturbed foliage and faint pawprints they were able to pick up the trail again after exploring for a short while.

  This time Netya was determined to catch the wayward males before they lost another day to their ill-fated hunt. Her mind and body seemed to tap into the same dogged reserves of energy that had kept her going during her flight from the Sun People, and with the aid of her wolf's natural endurance she kept a steady pace all morning. But something strange was happening to the trail they now followed. It was difficult to tell, especially after the rain, but Kin and his companions seemed to have stopped multiple times throughout the night, as if they were waiting for something. At first she thought they might finally have seen sense and hung back while they waited for the women to catch up, but if that were the case why had they not remained in one spot? Worse still, Eyan and Pera's scents had rejoined those of the main group. Netya did not know how the boy had managed to keep up through the night, but after realising his scent was closely mixed with Eyan's she suspected the large male had been carrying the youngster on his back.