by Claudia King
Contents
License Notes
Novels of The Moon People Saga
Author's Note
1 - Netya's Apprentice
2 - Foe Vaya
3 - The Wolf Pup
4 - The Mantle of Mentor
5 - Old Wounds
6 - Apprentice Kiren
7 - Tempting Fate
8 - The Huntress's Plan
9 - Greater Prey
10 - The Witch and the Warrior
11 - The Rainfall Hunt
12 - Vaya's Prize
13 - Adel's Decree
14 - Alpha Orec
15 - The Wet Season
16 - Stones and Spears
17 - Healing Hands
18 - Tales of Heroines
19 - Winter Fire
20 - Honour
21 - Dark Messenger
22 - A Vengeful Trail
23 - One Night Ago
24 - The Deepest Cold
25 - More Than Honour
26 - Resolve
27 - Netya's Gift
28 - Sisters of Syr
Epilogue
Afterword
SISTERS OF SYR
Claudia King
Published by Claudia King at Smashwords
Copyright © 2018 Claudia King
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Proceeds from sales directly help this author to continue doing what she loves, and to share it with you the reader!
Novels of The Moon People Saga:
The Alpha’s Concubine
Daughter of the Moon
Daughter of the Night
Sun Huntress
Sisters of Syr
Acknowledgements
Many thanks to Julie (duongcovers.com) for her wonderful work in designing the cover art for this title, to Anna for her assistance with nitpicks and proofing, the lovely folks of KBoards for providing a wealth of knowledge, advice, and assistance in all-things authorly, along with everyone else who helped to encourage me over the course of this project!
For newcomers to the series:
Don’t you just hate it when a book series has a bunch of titles that aren’t numbered? With prequels, spin-offs, and mainline entries all jumbled together, with no indication of where you should start reading?
Ahem.
Well fear not, for as The Moon People Saga continues to expand I shall be adding some little reading lists here at the start of each book so that you’re not too lost with where to begin.
Chronological reading order:
1 - Daughter of the Night
2 - The Alpha’s Concubine
3 - Daughter of the Moon
4 - Sun Huntress
5 - Sisters of Syr
This reading order is suggested for those who wish to experience the story by following its chronological progression, with the first book taking place at the beginning of the timeline, and the last most recently.
Author’s reading order:
1 - The Alpha’s Concubine
2 - Daughter of the Moon
3 - Daughter of the Night
4 - Sun Huntress
5 - Sisters of Syr
This reading order is the one I personally recommend as the author, corresponding with the order in which the books were written. I feel that certain story elements, mysteries, and revelations are more compelling when the series is experienced in this way, and that the consistency of the writing style flows more naturally from one book to the next.
—1—
Netya's Apprentice
“Sister Netya,” Adel said. “Meet your apprentice.”
The young woman standing beside the den mother eyed Netya through dirty locks of hair, the twine headband around her scalp doing little to hold the blonde mess in place. She had the air of a mountain cat about her, shoulders hunched and eyes skittish, her gaze constantly flitting around as if in search of an escape route. Everything about her was ragged, from the torn leathers she wore to the fraying grass basket slung across her back. Only the bow she held, squeezed tight like a child's toy, bore the look of careful craftsmanship—a craftsmanship rarely seen in the lands of the Moon People.
“Where did you get that?” Netya asked, gesturing to the weapon.
The girl took a step back, turning her body to shield the bow from view. “It was a gift.”
“Not a gift from our kind,” Adel said. “Answer her truthfully, girl.”
The playful splash of the waterfalls offset the moment of tension that followed, gracing the valleyside with an undercurrent of natural calm.
“Why does it matter where it came from? It was given to me by a friend.”
Netya pursed her lips, sharing a silent look with Adel before addressing the young woman again. “What is your name?”
“Kiren.”
“Which pack do you come from, Kiren?”
Though the girl clearly tried her best to hide it, Netya picked up on a faint note of pride as Kiren's shoulders squared and she drew herself up a little taller.
“I am the daughter of Clan Mother Octavia.”
No sooner had the girl said it than Netya found herself struggling to guard her own emotions. She swallowed, bracing her staff against the earth and stepping down from the lip of her small hut. Her seer's headdress of blue heron feathers tickled her neck as it caught the breeze, tugging loose a few strands of dark hair to whip across her brow.
“May I speak with you, Den Mother?” she asked, motioning Adel aside.
Though Netya had stepped out from the shadow of the older woman's tutelage some seasons ago, she doubted she would ever be able to think of Adel as anything other than her mentor, and a familiar tingle of fear returned when the den mother hesitated to respond.
Finally, with the faintest dip of her head, she acquiesced and turned aside, allowing Netya to lead them down the path trailing away from her secluded hut and cave. The blonde-haired girl watched them as they left, eyes partially narrowed as she squatted down atop a rock.
“I am not ready for this!” Netya whispered, struggling to meet her mentor's fearsome charcoal-painted eyes. “When you spoke of bringing a new apprentice into the clan I thought you meant for one of the elder seers to teach her. What about Ura or Yenna? They have instructed many young women.”
“So they have. What more do they need to learn about passing on their wisdom?”
Netya shook her head. An uncomfortable tightness squeezed at her throat. “I barely feel like a seer myself. How can I teach her the way you taught me?”
“A mind becomes lax if it is not tested. I chose you because I saw promise. You may no longer be an apprentice yourself, Netya, but a seer's learning continues long after that. This,” she gestured back up the slope toward Kiren, “is your next test.”
“What if I fail?”
Adel scowled at her. “How many years must it take before I drive the last of that softness out of you, girl? You do not fail. You do not fret. You do as I have tasked you.”
Netya sighed. In seasons past she would have bitten her lip and nodded obediently, cowed by the den mother's sternness. But Adel was more than just a mentor now. Part mother, part sister, she was family. Her and Caspian and Fern—all of them were bound together by bonds stronger than the blood they had been born with.
It should ha
ve been trust, not fear, that made Netya bow her head in agreement this time. Adel had earned her loyalty many times over. Why, then, did she still hesitate? Why did Adel's voice somehow sound colder, sharper, than it had in years past? Netya tried to force the thought aside, reminding herself that Adel was adept at concealing her compassionate nature. She was probably just trying to teach another lesson as firmly as she could.
“Very well, Den Mother. If you think I am ready.”
“You are ready.” Adel took her by the arm and led her back up the slope. “You have a challenge ahead of you with this one,” she murmured. “She arrived last night in strange company. Odd for a daughter of Octavia's clan to journey so far to seek us out, don't you think?”
“She looks more warrior than seer,” Netya whispered.
“As I said. A challenge.”
Kiren stood up as they approached. The basket she had been carrying lay forgotten next to the rock, but the girl's fingers still gripped her bow firmly. Definitely a warrior.
Netya touched the heron skull fixed atop her staff, reaching out to her spirit guide for its wisdom. The heron had been with her for many years now, stilling her thoughts when they became too wild and cautioning her against the emotional impulses of her youth. It was not so strong or vivacious a guide as some spirits, but it held special meaning to her.
That day, however, the heron had no wisdom to share. Try as she might, she could not pluck even the first feather of thought from the whirling conundrum of what to do with this girl. Netya was not a teacher. The pack all saw her as Adel's favourite, many of them even going so far as to call her Little Mother—the honorific reserved only for those destined to succeed a clan's matriarch—and yet every day all she saw was the ways in which she fell short of her mentor's legacy. She had come to accept long ago that she would never be as wise, as strong, or as fearless as Adel, and yet still the weight of the pack's future had been placed upon her shoulders.
Taking a deep breath, she tucked her deerskin gown close to her body and approached Kiren.
“What is it—” Netya faltered, realising that she could not address her apprentice the way she would her other pack-sisters. Reaching deep within herself, she dredged up the hard core that had been tempered by Adel's teachings. “What is it that you seek to learn from me, girl?”
Kiren looked her up and down, the corner of her eye tightening slightly. Even though she looked perhaps half a dozen years Netya's junior, she still matched her in height.
“I do not know,” she answered. “What must I learn to become a witch like you? I know nothing of medicine and magic.”
That dashed Netya's last hope of an easy apprentice. If Kiren had asked simple questions of herbs and divination then she could have given her simple answers. Instead she found herself faced with a complete novice.
Just like Adel was when she taught you.
“Will I sleep here?” Kiren asked, gesturing to the small cave in the valleyside.
Netya shook her head, relieved to have a question she could answer. “This is my own den. You would not be very comfortable in there with my mate and I.”
Kiren seemed relieved, turning her attention instead to the small circular hut that stood opposite Netya's dwelling. The half-height walls were boarded with split logs, propped up by a quintet of sturdy poles that supported the grass thatching on top. Adel liked them to keep the conical roofs of their huts stained violet with plant pigment in the summer, but Netya had allowed some of the colour of hers to fade out in the rain.
“So you don't live in dens of wood like the Sun People?” Kiren asked.
Netya smiled a little. “We adopt many of their ways, but caves keep out the wind and rain better than huts.”
“There are no caves in my mother's territory. Our pack has always lived in tents.”
“When winter comes you will be glad to have stone around you. Come, let me show you the rest of our den.” Netya looked to Adel for confirmation, but the den mother merely raised her eyebrows and took a step back, arms folded impassively. Kiren was Netya's responsibility now.
“You've met the Sun People before, then?” Netya asked as she led her apprentice toward the hive of caves and huts tumbling down the lower part of the valleyside.
“Why do you say that?”
Netya turned and gestured to the bow. “That weapon wasn't made by any craftsman of the Moon People.”
“Have you met every craftsman in our lands?” Kiren retorted. “Your pack craft wood like the Sun People. Why can't others?”
“I am only curious. I know more about the Sun People than you might think.”
Kiren chewed her lower lip for a moment before responding. “It was made by them, yes. I know something of their kind too.”
“Enough to speak their words?” Netya asked in the tongue of the Sun People. When the strange language evoked only a look of mild shock from Kiren she switched back into the girl's native tongue. “Never mind. Adel and the others use the Sun People's words when they wish to speak in private, but it is not something I expect you to master.”
Kiren fell quiet after that, allowing Netya to lead her through the den and show her all the things they had built. Their pack was still juvenile compared to most, but five summers past they had settled this valley and made it their own. Natural caves in the valleyside that had once been home to wild wolves now provided shelter for the clan, and in the time since Adel's arrival much had been done to transform the valley into a haven for their budding coven. The cold stone openings were now emblazoned with paintings and banners, each one sporting heavy leather drapes that could be unfurled and weighted down to guard against the elements. In the summer they used their outside huts, each one carefully pieced together by Craftsmother Briar and her assistants using strong wood from the northeastern forests. Every time Netya looked upon the violet-thatched roofs spreading out across the valleyside she could not help but feel a twinge of pride knowing that she had helped Briar master the woodworking techniques used to build them. The huts were still primitive compared to structures like the great longhouse of the village she had grown up in, but they suited the simplicity of the Moon People well.
Kiren's interest perked as Netya led her past the great seers' cave, showing off the myriad of talismans woven together from bone, twigs, and twine that hung in a spiderweb pattern around the entrance. Each one represented a prayer to the spirits, and over the years a great many prayers had been offered up.
The women seated around the fire outside greeted Kiren with curious stares, evoking a strangely protective feeling from Netya as she recalled her own early days among the Moon People.
“By the spirits it's true!” Huntress Fern exclaimed as they drew close, speaking in the tongue of the Sun People. “Meadow said there was a new apprentice joining us, but I thought Ura would be mentoring her.”
“Don't be discourteous, Fern, she only speaks your tongue,” Netya said with a smile, endeared as always by her closest friend's willingness to address her in her native language.
“What do they call you, sister?” Fern asked, speaking to Kiren in words she could understand.
“Kiren. And I am no one's sister.”
“You are now. Listen carefully to everything Sister Netya tells you. She is as wise a mentor as anyone could wish for.”
“Fern, please,” Netya said, listing back into the Sun People's tongue momentarily.
The huntress grinned, leaning sideways to give her latest bedfellow, Sister Terim, a nudge. “She will always be our humble little sun girl, won't she?”
“Anyone is humbler than you,” Terim replied, not looking up from the piece of boar hide she was sewing in her lap.
The comfortable conversation seemed to help Kiren open up a little, and she tugged on Netya's sleeve while gesturing into the seers' cave with her bow.
“Is that where you do your magic?”
“Magic is everywhere in this valley, but that is where we congregate, yes. You will be staying in there with t
he other apprentices until you earn a cave of your own.”
“How long will that take?”
Netya shrugged, catching herself before she gave another noncommittal response. She was a mentor now. She had to have confidence in her answers.
“Whenever I judge you have earned it,” she said.
Many caves still sat empty on the valleyside despite the clan's attempts to fill them with as many bundles of wood, herbs, unfinished tool stone, and discarded crafting projects as possible. It would have been easy to grant every apprentice a private dwelling of her own, but Adel insisted they work for that privilege. Ever the demanding mentor, she had little tolerance for self-entitlement and even less for laziness. As different as their clan was from the other great packs, the Moon People's tenements of structure, status, and authority sill remained alive and well within Adel's coven.
Netya led Kiren around the seers' cave and back up the slope on the eastern side, making sure to maintain a respectful distance from the dark cavern that sat directly above.
“Den Mother Adel's dwelling,” Netya explained. “Never set foot near that cave without her blessing. Her anger is not something you want to invite carelessly.”
Higher up the slope they passed by several of the empty caves, the walk showing off an impressive view of the misty valley below before they finally circled back around to the falls. Ignoring the path back down to her own den, Netya took them up until they reached a cave higher than any of the others. Dyes of plant pigment and animal blood had dried and faded upon the rocks outside a dozen times over, and yet still fresh new paintings had been daubed around the cave's entrance that very morning. Lowering her voice, Netya whispered softly to Kiren as she led her inside.
“This is where you will find Meadow, Sister of Paintings. Come, quietly now.”
