“And you think this wouldn’t be possible under the watch of any other Ragoru?”
Kyx indulged in a human shrug. It seemed appropriate for communicating his uncertain feelings.
He heard his father sigh and shift closer to him. Korash’s larger muzzle rested against his shoulder; one hand stroked down his mane. Kyx leaned into the comfort.
“No one can protect those that they love all the time without fault or error. You have said before that Warol and Rager have no family. I am assuming this is due to huntsmen. Do you think their fathers were weak, and that this made them fail to protect their families?”
His looked over at his father in abhorrence. He would never dare suggest or even think such a thing. His sire gazed at him kindly.
“You see? Bad things happen, and no matter how big you are, there is no guarantee that they won’t. Besides, never underestimate a small being. Your mother is small and—just between us—I am afraid to sleep with all four eyes closed sometimes.”
“I heard that,” his mother called from inside the antechamber.
Korash winked one peripheral eye at him, and surprisingly he felt better. He watched his father roll to his feet and stride inside the den before he shot to his own feet.
“Oh, there was something I wanted to talk to you about,” Kyx called out as he followed close behind. His mother turned from where she was stacking some boxes that looked suspiciously like merchant’s wares. He frowned down at them, losing his track of thought. Emala followed his line of sight and gave him the same exasperated look that he well remembered from his youth.
“Don’t look like that. Mishar found an abandoned wagon near the mountains and pulled it home. It took him three days to return. I was about worried out of my mind, but it was a thoughtful gift,” she admitted. “I couldn’t get too mad about it even if his antics did take years off my life. Here is a piece of advice, Kyx: if you want a happy family, make sure you communicate with them. All of them—including your mate. Don’t just send a howling message to your brother and trust him to pass it along, when you know your brother has the memory of a flea,” she said as she narrowed her eyes at Korash. She sighed and raised an eyebrow. “Kyx, was there something you wanted to talk to us about?”
“Uh, yes. We will be going deeper into the eastern forest as soon as the thaw comes, and—”
“And you want us to come as well. Of course we are. Huntsmen spotted lurking about and crazed Ragoru—what could possibly happen next? Your fathers and I discussed this at length during the Withering Days.”
He gave her an arched look, and she flushed.
“Among other things. Believe it or not, we do find some time to talk. We aren’t young and able to rut like you can.”
“Mother!” he groaned, covering his ears with two of his hands while the other pair waved frantically.
His father Korash grinned but his mother merely rolled her eyes, her lips twitching as she pulled his hands away.
“You are not a rog anymore. You know very well by now what happens between mates. As I was saying, we agreed it is time to settle farther away from humans. We love this den, but your older brothers all went east. We don’t expect any of our young to return here after all these years, but we wouldn’t mind reuniting with our family. Also, it would be nice to be there when your rogs come,” she admitted.
She sighed again, heavier this time. “I could never get used to the way so many Ragoru live disconnected for their families when they are grown. It broke my heart every time one of you left to build your own triad. Malu will be leaving us in a few years. It would be nice to be nearby for your family. This winter has proved that we can live comfortably together in the same territory, and it would be beneficial for all of our safety.”
“And my fathers all agreed?” he asked, looking in surprise at his father. He had assumed his fathers would have been the most difficult to convince. All his life they had taught him that a Ragoru should seek to rely on no other but his triad and mate, to establish an isolated territory and defend it. He’d prepared him for the day when he would be an adult and leave his whelping den.
“Yes, we are agreed,” Korash said. His eyes slid over to his mate and softened. “Sometimes it is good for old ways to change and adapt to new situations. I do miss my young too. We leave at the first thaw.”
21
Arie was certain that winter was never going to end. Two lunar cycles completed while they observed the Withering Days and she was certain that she was about to go out of mind if she didn’t get out of the cave soon. Not that some aspects hadn’t been fun. Frequent bouts of making love had rated high on her list of ways to pass the winter.
She just needed to get out of the cave, even if only for a little while.
Perhaps she would have felt differently if they’d been in her triad’s den rather than the cave. She had never felt desperation to get outside when she spent the winters in her cozy cottage with her mother. It must have been symptomatic of living in the tiny, dark cave specifically. She’d been doing all kinds of busywork to keep herself entertained, but it was increasingly hard to focus on anything.
She was restless.
She paced the length of the cave in front of the door in an attempt to work off the excess energy. On her fifth pass before the entrance, as she watched the wind scatter some granules of snow, an idea occurred to her. She would ask Rager if they could walk through the woods. He would never let her go far from the safety of the cave, but surely a short walk wouldn’t hurt anything. The guys had taken her for walks at different times over the course of the winter, so she couldn’t see any reason why he wouldn’t agree. She turned around to say something to him, but halted and smiled fondly at the sight in front of her.
Rager was sound asleep on the pile of furs at the back of the cave, his huge chest rising and falling with the even gusts of his breath. She hated to wake him. She didn’t think he ever got enough sleep. The one and only time she’d fussed at him over it he firmly replied that it was his duty to protect his family and he would be able to rest once they returned to their den. His tone had forbidden further discussion on the matter. Still, if he was taking the opportunity to sleep, she needed to let him.
She really couldn’t bear to stay inside a moment longer, not when the weather was nice. There was a warmth to the wind that hadn’t been there before, hinting at spring coming just around the corner. She worried that if she didn’t go out and enjoy it she’d miss her opportunity, and with her luck they’d be snowed in again for the next three weeks.
Although her mates would be displeased if they caught her at it before she returned, there really had been no sign of danger for many weeks now—not since Warol’s confrontation with the rogue Ragoru. There hadn’t been any sign of huntsmen in all the months they’d been there. She suspected there weren’t other predators in this part of the woods since none of the males made mention of tracks. She was also familiar with this part of the forest, so she didn’t worry about getting lost. It wasn’t like she was going far.
She carefully slipped a leather belt over her shoulder and sheathed her bone knife in it. She’d been caught in the bramble a few times while walking with Warol and had to patiently wait while he cut her free. She didn’t want to be stuck in a similar position without one of her males nearby to help her. Because it was still chilly, despite the melting snow, she covered herself with several of her warmest furs as well as a fur-lined hooded cape and her mittens. Only then did she slip out of the entrance.
The first blast of cool air on her face was invigorating. It was clean the way that only winter air could be. It held a lingering edge of moisture from the snow, or as if it were perhaps going to rain. Arie took a deep breath, savoring it as she stood in front of the cave. A quick glance around affirmed that no one was nearby.
A small flock of vivid red songbirds burst from the trees just overhead, bringing a smile to her face and reminding her of just why she needed the excursion. She hummed as she passed through the trees, follo
wing vaguely in the direction of the cardinals. The snow was largely undisturbed, except where her mate’s trail had broken through, disappearing some distance away.
A profound sense of pleasure stole over her. Everything from buds on the trees to the blades of plants beginning to poke through the snow made her ridiculously happy for no reason whatsoever. She walked until a movement out of the corner of her eye made her stop and turn her head.
A brown rabbit with blotches of white fur sat on a mound of snow, its long velvety ears shifting as it looked for food. She spent several moments entertained, watching the little creature before it became wary of her presence and disappeared into the skeletal limbs of a nearby bush.
“It’s for the best,” she called out to the rabbit. “Good idea to make yourself scarce. You never know when one of my mates will catch the wind and decide you will make a good meal.”
Laughing to herself, she moved on until she eventually came to a narrow clearing. She didn’t recognize this place. Had she lost track of her surroundings while watching the rabbit? A glimmer of color caught her attention and made her pause. Poking through the snow, tiny blue flowers burst in merry clumps.
Snowdrops!
She had run out of her supply of snowdrops earlier in the summer. They were useful to have on hand for a few different medical issues, but she never gathered enough in spring to last her even half the year.
Pulling off one glove with her teeth, she turned it upside down and filled it with the flowers. She’d never seen so many in one place before. Near the village, few could be found other a small handful of clusters. She expertly pinched off one flower after another and set them into her glove, careful not to bruise or crush the bloom. One glove filled and then the other.
Once they were full, she set them down on the snow in front of her and pulled the leather ties off the ends of the braids that framed her face. One at a time, she used a cord to tie the end of the glove closed.
Now to find her way home. She put her hands on her hips. There was nothing to do for it but try to backtrack. She must have gotten turned around while she was following the rabbit. She was about to head back to the forest edge when a tinkling sound of metal and leather made her jerk her head around in surprise.
Pulling into view just ahead, a ramshackle merchant’s wagon made its way toward her. An elderly nag was hitched to it, and the man driving it seemed almost as grizzled. She paused, puzzled. Merchants often traveled with their families. She couldn’t recall ever seeing a lone merchant in her village, though she supposed that, like any vocation, it could have its share of solitary peddlers. That didn’t mean she was foolish enough to automatically trust the stranger, even if, at a distance, he appeared quite harmless.
She was too far in the open to disappear into the trees, so she opted to crouch lower in the snowbank and watch. She clung to a thread of hope that her furs would help her blend in and the cart would pass her by, unseen. That hope was crushed when the stranger half-stood on his footrest and pulled back on the leather reins.
“Whoa, Maggy,” he called in a smoke-roughened voice. He squinted at where Arie was crouched. A baffled expression crossed his face as he continued to scan the clearing before returning his narrow gaze to her.
“Either my imagination is playing tricks on me or there is someone in the snow. Come on out now. Show yourself!” He reached down and rested a hand on the butt of his rifle.
The man was clearly on edge, and Arie had no doubt that if she didn’t show herself, he would resort to firing at anything he perceived as a potential threat. Biting her lip nervously, she stood with her hands turned upward to show that they were empty.
“I am unarmed,” she calmly said as she forced herself to step closer to the wagon.
The man’s brow wrinkled, and she noticed he wasn’t quite as old as she’d originally assumed. His clothing had seen better days, and he had several days of scruff on his face peppered with gray, but his hair was dark except where gray threaded through it at the temples. She also noticed that, though he was leaning forward over the footrest to look down at her, his body was broad with obvious muscle. She took a step back, struck with unease.
His brow pulled down further into a scowl.
“What is a woman doing out here alone in the woods?”
Did he expect her to answer or was that rhetorical question?
“Well?”
Ah.
“I am out for a walk, looking for snowdrops for Momma.” Her mind spun to fabricate a plausible story. “My family had come through the woods with a group of colonists, but my momma went into labor and they got separated from the group. Daddy built his cabin out here and we’ve been living a short distance from here ever since.”
He leaned back in his seat, the horse tossing its head as his arm pulled the reins tight. Reaching into his vest pocket, he pulled out a cigar. With his other hand, he pulled out a small knife from a strap. She watched as he cut the tip of the cigar off before sheathing the blade and sticking it between his teeth. She knew he had to have been to the Citadel. Few people had the means to afford good cigars, but almost no one in the sanctuary villages had ready access to wood matches, and those who could afford to purchase them were not the sort that would be traveling through the forest in a rough-looking wagon.
“Did you find them… your snowdrops?”
“Oh yes, I have filled both gloves with them,” she said. Small truths inserted into a lie made it far more believable.
He grunted and eyed her for a long moment.
“What’s your name, girl?”
“Kila,” she answered with the first name that came to her mind. She didn’t feel comfortable providing him with her real name.
He puffed on his cigar and pulled it out to inspect it. His eyes narrowed on her once more.
“Kila, you say. I caught word from one of the villages of a missing girl named Arie. Have you seen her pass through? She is about your age and height, but she would have been hard to miss with all that red hair of hers.”
Arie felt her heart beat faster in her chest but she schooled her features in an impassive mask.
“I’m sorry. I can’t say I have. We don’t get many visitors out here. I’m sure I would remember someone with red hair.”
“How about you come closer so I can get a better look at you?”
Her blood went cold and she offered him a polite smile.
“I’d rather not. My parents don’t approve of me talking to strangers.”
His lips parted in a chilling grin. “How do they expect to marry their daughter if they keep her in the middle of the woods without contact with men? Come closer. I don’t bite.”
Arie took another step back, unnerved by his insistence.
“I… I have to get back.”
His eyes went cold, but his smile widened. “How about I give you a ride home? It is the least I can do. I would be pleased to meet your family.”
She shuddered. “No. No, thank you. I should be going. Have a blessed day.”
She backed away, her hand on her blade, but he sighed and shook his head.
“I really wish you hadn’t done that. It would have been a lot more pleasant if you’d come along peacefully.”
He snapped his long fingers, and three men burst out from the back of the wagon, each of them wearing the deep blue capes of the Order. She backpedaled in alarm and his laughter followed her.
“You see, I am pretty certain you are just the girl we are looking for.”
22
Rager hadn’t meant to fall asleep, and judging from the long shadows he’d been out for a while. He hoped Arie had not been too bored while he’d been sleeping. She’d been getting more restless over the last few days and he and his brothers had been taking turns accompanying her on short walks outside. He understood how miserable it was to be stuck indoors, and she had fewer opportunities to get away from the cave.
He looked around, half-expecting Arie to be curled near him on the furs. He frowne
d as he realized she wasn’t there. He breathed in to track her scent in the cave but, the only trace of her was hours old. He shot to his feet in alarm.
How long had she been gone without him knowing? Where did she go?
“Arie!” he shouted as he spun around the cave, some part of him hoping she was playing some sort of game and had found a way to deceive his senses. His panic level spiked, and he rushed to the entrance, calling her name repeatedly as he darted through the snow to the nearest places Arie enjoyed lingering when he took her to walk around the den.
Horror bit into him with relentless teeth as he came to the conclusion that his mate was nowhere to be found. She was gone.
All the terrors from his youth came rushing back. Returning as a youth to his den with a fresh kill to show off to his fathers and mother, and the sight of their dead bodies burning in a heap just in front. He’d fallen to his knees in front of the pyre, overwhelmed by grief. The stench and smoke had made him tear up, and he’d gagged and vomited helplessly where he crouched. Nothing had stopped the agony of their absence, and nothing would stop it now. His Arie was lying there amid his family, her sightless eyes staring up from where her body slowly burned away among them.
Immaterial hands gripped and shook him, pulling him free from his memories. Rager blinked up at Warol, who looked down at him wide-eyed with fear. Beside him, Kyx watched, his ears pulled back as he glanced around.
“Rager, what has happened? We heard your calls of anguish from some distance. We hurried as fast as we could only to find you alone, writhing in the snow as if in agony. Where is Arie?”
“Gone,” he choked. “I don’t know. I fell asleep. I knew that Arie has been getting restless—I should have stayed awake. Now she is gone. I cannot find any sign of her anywhere. She doesn’t answer my call, and all scent trails are faded. Hours old. This is my fault.”
Kyx shook his head and sighed. “I do not accept your self-blame.” Warol made a noise of agreement. “We all knew Arie was having difficulty staying in the cave all the time. We shouldn’t have left her care to you alone with our mate in such a condition. I’m sure she didn’t mean to go so far. You know Arie is more cautious than that by nature.”
Red: A Dystopian World Alien Romance Page 17
