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

by Claudia King

  "How was it that you found me, when I was in the river?" Netya asked one evening as they slowed their pace to pick wild berries along the way. They were skirting the area of shrubland Miral had crossed on the journey back to his den, keeping to a series of eastern thickets that would soon lead them down into the valleys.

  "Perhaps by the providence of the spirits." Caspian smiled. "I felt that something was watching over me, though perhaps it was just the determination of my wolf." The smile became a frown. "I was a fool when I chased after you. I led Adel and the others straight to Miral, and it may have ended in all of their deaths. But all I could think of was you. I couldn't bear to let you slip away from me."

  A tender feeling plucked at Netya's heart, and she reached out to touch his hand.

  "After Miral left me for dead I was fortunate," he continued. "I had time to heal. I couldn't hunt, but I found food, water, and one of the alpha's scouts along the way. The same one that went after Adel, I think."

  "Did you follow him back?"

  Caspian nodded. "Some of the way. He thought I was a spirit risen from the dead, and I warned him never to speak a word of me. The poor man was terrified. He said his clan made their den at the head of the river, but I followed his trail as far as I could to be sure. It was hard, with my wound." He rubbed his throat, tracing the scar with his fingers. The slight huskiness that had been in his voice since their reunion still showed no sign of fading. Perhaps it would be with him forever. "I can't remember how many days it took. I fell behind without the legs of my wolf, then as soon as I could change shape again I had to stop and hunt properly. But I kept following the river day after day, until I started catching the scent of other wolves. That was the difficult part."

  "Were there many of them? I do not think Miral sent many of his warriors out to scout while I was there."

  Caspian shook his head. "Not many. Mostly large hunting parties, and I made sure to stay away from those. I found the camp soon after, but there was no way for me to get close. Those paths up to the plateau had warriors watching them day and night."

  Netya tried to imagine what it must have been like for him, hounded by the constant threat of discovery, desperately searching for some way into Miral's camp, not knowing whether she was alive or dead inside. Those days must have been as terrible for him as they were for her. She felt for his hand again, and he squeezed it back.

  "Either the scouts were as bad as their reputation, or I was very fortunate," Caspian continued. "I circled the place so many times they must have run across my scent at least once. Whenever I had to sleep I climbed up into the trees and found a perch there, and Miral's wolves never thought to turn their eyes upward. Then, after a few days, I heard your scream coming from the edge of the plateau."

  "That was when it happened," Netya said. "I wanted everyone to find his body, so they would be afraid."

  "I am glad you did," Caspian gave her a pained look, "even though it drove me mad to hear that sound. I was ready to try and scale the rocks with my bare hands, but then I saw you falling into the river. I searched up and down the bank so many times I was sure you must have drowned." His face paled at the memory. "Those may have been the worst moments of my life. It seemed like an eternity."

  "I know," Netya said softly. "I was on a rock, that was when I—" She touched her belly. The cramping and bleeding had been absent for a full day now. So too were the sickly and tender feelings that had accompanied her pregnancy. "I slipped back into the river."

  "I saw you there, just upstream of me. I thought the current would kill us both when I threw myself in, but I got you to the bank somehow."

  "You saved me," she said, leaning in to rest her head upon his shoulder. "So perhaps you were not foolish to chase Miral after all."

  Caspian put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. "Perhaps not."

  It would have been wise for the pair of them to strike a slower pace and rest a few more days until their cracked bones had mended properly, but they knew every day they spent away was another day their pack lived in despair, not knowing what had become of them and fearful that further retribution might strike at any moment. As far as Netya knew, Miral had no heir, but one of the senior males would wrest control of the pack from the others eventually. If they were fortunate it would be someone like Nekare, though even if it was not, she doubted they had much to fear from Miral's clan any longer. No one but their alpha had possessed the courage to challenge Adel's dark magic directly.

  Perhaps she was wrong, but she suspected any attempts at vengeance from the rival pack would be a long time in coming. The den mother needed to know so that she could put the minds of her followers at rest.

  With Netya unable to run, she spent most of the time riding upon Caspian's back, feeling her body grow a little stronger day by day as they snaked through the valleys trying to make their way south. The rain came and went, making it difficult to enjoy the sights and sounds of the land around them, but before long their surroundings began to take on a familiar quality that reminded Netya of home. After a few days travelling they found themselves walking by a familiar rock in the centre of a field, the same one beneath which Selo had found the bones of the feral wolf that led them to their new den.

  Poor Selo. Netya had suffered much, but at least she still had her life. The memory of her fallen sisters threatened to bring tears to her eyes as they walked by the rock, but she had done more than enough crying in recent days. They pushed on, determined to reach home now that they knew they were so close. By the time dawn broke upon a misty morning, they were standing back at the eastern end of their valley. How long had they been gone, Netya wondered? She guessed perhaps a third of a season, for the rains were frequent and heavy now, but the weather had not yet taken on the chill that signalled the approach of winter. Her time with Miral's pack seemed like a dark dream, fragmented and difficult to remember. She was happy for it to stay that way.

  As they walked the lush green valley the sound of the waterfalls murmured to life ahead of them, joined soon by wisps of smoke from the den fires. Most of the clan would be asleep or abroad hunting, but Adel and a few others always rose early. The familiarity of the scene filled Netya with relief, drawing a wordless sound of heartfelt emotion from her lips as she began to hurry forward through the grass. This was their valley. Her valley. A refuge from the Mirals of the world and the pointless suffering they brought. Here, in this place, surrounded by those she cared about, she could sleep soundly again.

  Caspian jogged at her side, catching her when she stumbled in her eagerness to reach the caves. A cry of alarm sounded from near the central fire, only to be replaced a moment later by Fern's voice calling her friend's name in elation.

  "Netya! Netya and Caspian!"

  Within moments the serene valleyside had come alive with voices, a dozen people surging forward to meet them while others emerged from their caves. Fern came first, with Wren at her side. Pera was on his feet again, as strong as ever. Lyucia greeted her with a satisfied smile, as if anticipating a story of daring escape and bloody vengeance upon their enemies. Kin watched anxiously from the back, his relief subdued, but still very much apparent.

  Fern's embrace squeezed the breath from Netya's lungs, the laughter and tears of both young women mingling together as they hugged and kissed one another, before Fern moved on to pull Caspian into her arms next.

  "We thought you were both dead! How..? Oh, but thank the spirits!"

  "I was very fortunate," Caspian said, wincing through his smile as he eased Fern away from his healing ribs. "And Netya was very brave."

  "I was the fortunate one," Netya said, and then she was lost in more greetings and embraces as the rest of her clan swept around them, touching their two returned companions over and over to reassure themselves of their miraculous survival. Though it was a relief to be home, it was exhausting, and Netya felt unable to fully join in with the exuberance of some of her companions. She felt afraid for a moment, stifled, almost, by th
e press of bodies and voices, remembering the push and tug of the river as it suffocated her. The feeling faded almost as quickly as it had begun, but the memory of it lingered like a cold hand on her shoulder, holding her back from joining in with the happiness that surrounded her.

  By the time the group had calmed themselves she was glad to have Fern lead her to a warm spot by the central fire, where Lyucia's mother examined her healing arm, re-bound it, and applied a salve of oily plant fragments that brought a pleasant warmth to Netya's skin and helped to dull the lingering ache. It was not until her wounds were tended, her greetings said, and her stomach filled that Netya felt a familiar touch on the back of her neck.

  "Come. Speak with me," Adel said, her words bringing a lull to the surrounding conversation.

  As soon as their eyes met, Netya could tell the den mother glimpsed something in her expression that the others had not yet seen.

  "Alone," Adel added.

  "We would like to hear Netya's tale too," Lyucia said, receiving a few murmurs of agreement from the men.

  "Then you will hear it from her later, if she cares to repeat it," the den mother replied. Guiding the sun girl with a hand at her back, she led Netya away from the others and up the valleyside. The conversation behind them faded to a murmur as they reached the ledge above the central cave and disappeared into Adel's den. It was dark inside, as usual, but Netya almost found the quiet solitude comforting this time.

  "I understand now why you like to stay in here," she said.

  "I know. I saw it on your face the moment you returned." Adel's tone seemed different than usual. She spoke plainly, with a weariness to her voice that made her seem far older than she was. "There are things I have never told you about myself, Netya, and so I will not ask you to share what happened when you were with Miral. I know some memories are better left buried." She touched Netya's cheek, then pulled her into an embrace. "I wished better for you." The den mother's voice cracked with emotion.

  Netya hugged her back, the stifled feeling from earlier loosening and running out of her. She remembered how this familiar pair of arms had held her when she took her first journey into the spirit world. It was like being back in the embrace of her mother.

  "I will tell you," Netya said after a moment. "I must."

  Adel nodded, turning away and brushing a hand across her eyes before leading Netya to a folded fur by the embers of her fire.

  "Before you do, what of Miral?" the den mother asked. "Should we fear his return?"

  Netya shook her head. "Never again."

  Adel listened intently, making no interruptions as Netya recounted her tale once more, beginning with Miral's death, then going back to relive every harrowing moment that had passed since her departure from the valley. It was a bleak experience to revisit, but in retelling it a second time the words came easier to her. Perhaps it was the soothing darkness of the cave, or the comfort of being home that made it easier to speak about these things to Adel than it had been with Caspian. But the den mother had understood the worst of it before her apprentice shared a single word. She understood perhaps better than anyone else what Netya had been through. And so, when Netya told her story, she felt that she was recounting it not just to someone who would soothe and comfort her, but to a person who had lived through the same darkness. Perhaps Adel's ordeals had been different. Worse, no doubt. But they had left the same impression upon her. Netya shared everything, and Adel listened.

  "Do you still feel that the spirits betrayed you?" the den mother asked at the end.

  "I do not know," Netya said. "I am no longer angry at them. I think they sought to teach me something, I only wish it had not been so painful a lesson to learn."

  Adel gazed into the fire's dim coals, something between satisfaction and sadness on her face. "I was the one who told you what your vision might mean."

  "Yes. I should have known better. I should have questioned it."

  "You should, and yet I am glad you did not. You must know by now that I did not suggest they were premonitions of your daughter because I believed it to be true. What have I always taught you about the nature of visions?"

  Netya sighed, closing her eyes as she spoke. "They hold no more truth than what the seer makes of them."

  "And we tell others not only what we have seen, but what we believe they need to hear. I knew you would be afraid to learn you were carrying a child, especially with Miral threatening us. Your visions could have meant many different things, but I chose to suggest they were glimpses of a daughter with a great destiny. Someone you would fight to protect."

  "And I believed it," Netya said, unsure of whether to feel hurt or foolish. "I felt I had failed when I lost her."

  "But you did not fail!" Adel gripped Netya's hand tightly. "You kept going when you believed all else was lost. You slew an alpha. Had it not been for the desire to protect your child, would you have been able to muster that courage?"

  All Netya could think about when she imagined such a thing was the way she had felt when she let the river carry her off the rock. Bleak and bereft. Ready to die. "I would have given up long before."

  Adel nodded sympathetically. "And so it does not matter what meaning your vision held, for your daughter's destiny was great regardless. She gave you the determination to survive and raise your hand to a tyrant. Our enemy is dead, and without him his clan is toothless. Had he lived, we would have faced him in battle again, and many more lives would have been lost."

  "His clan may seek vengeance still."

  "Perhaps. But I doubt it. A death by dark magic is no blood feud. To his people it will seem as though Miral was struck down by the spirits in punishment for his actions. Word will reach the other clans before long, and they will fear us all the more."

  A sickly feeling spread through Netya's stomach as she realised the full extent of her actions. She might have brought an end to one conflict, but in doing so how many more would she begin? She felt like a spider sitting at the heart of a spreading web. A witch through and through.

  "I wish my destiny could have been someone else's."

  Adel hesitated for a moment, then said something Netya had never expected to hear from her.

  "So do I." The edges of the den mother's eyes creased in recollection of some long-relinquished memory. "Few people ever wish to face the things we have. But they do not tell stories of those who lead simple lives, living and loving as we all long to. Women like us, Netya, will change the world as we pass through it, and it is our duty to leave it a better place for those who follow."

  "Is that what you believe?"

  "It is what I must believe."

  When Netya looked at her mentor again, she thought she understood. Adel had once been where Netya was when she let the river pull her under. Perhaps part of her was always there, skirting the precipice, for no lost love had ever arrived to pull her back. Yet she had gone on regardless, somehow stronger than ever.

  "If I die before my time," Adel said, "you will lead this clan in my place."

  Netya gave her a fraction of a nod. "I will."

  It was not that she wanted to, nor that she believed she was yet capable. But she could see the path Adel had walked. It was the same one Netya was now on. She had been tested by her trials, pushed to her limits, and shown the depths of her own soul. She knew the worst of her fears and the deepest of her despairs. Conquering them was not yet within her grasp, but she could feel it hovering beyond her fingertips. Already the trepidation she felt about the days to come had a dull edge to it.

  She did not want to take her mentor's place, but if fate demanded it of her, she would rise to the task. She would change, harden, and try her best to live by Adel's words.

  "Let us hope you never have to," the den mother said.

  "Perhaps that was the truth of my visions," Netya replied. "They showed me what I could be. A great leader like you."

  Adel nodded, squeezing her apprentice's arm. "Or perhaps they were nothing more than dreams."


  They walked with each other up and down the valleyside as morning crept toward midday, visiting the waterfalls, the hidden glade, and all the other familiar nooks that were comforting to Netya. Adel did not wear her out with more questions or the sort of lively conversation the others would have pestered her with; she only listened when her apprentice had things to say. The lessons of the day were done, and now it was time to begin healing.

  As they looked out over the valley, Netya caught sight of a pair of figures walking together in the distance, too far away to make out who they were. She sat and watched for a while, twining a lock of her long hair around her fingers. It was dirty and matted, long overdue for a proper wash. Perhaps Caspian would join her beneath the waterfalls that evening, and they could make gentle love as they bathed. She was ready to feel that kind of intimacy again. Not out of passion, but simply for the relief it brought. A moment of pleasure away from the rest of the world.

  Her eyes roved over the valley's green slopes for a while before settling back upon the two figures in the distance. They were closer now, heading back to the den after their long walk. One was Ura, and the other...

  Netya leaned forward, her eyes widening as she gazed at the pair. "Meadow!"

  Adel looked up from her seat beside her. "Ah, they are back. It seems one will go nowhere without the other these days." Netya could hear the smile in the den mother's voice.

  "I thought her dead."

  "As did we all," Adel replied. "Well, all but one of us. She should not have survived that wound Miral gave her, but Ura refused to let go. She stayed by Meadow's side night and day, tending her with every remedy she knew. I was furious when I came back to learn she had been into my cave and used many of the plants we traded for at the gathering."

  "But she saved her."

  "She did, and so I could not be furious for long. She used our most potent spirit herbs to dull Meadow's pain. Enough, almost, to kill her, but perhaps that was the only way. Once Meadow was calm Ura could examine the wound without hurting her and making it worse. She is a talented healer, that woman."