Sisters of Syr (The Moon People, Book Four)

by Claudia King

The sound of mellifluous humming greeted them as they ventured into the cave. Meadow, hands stained a dark blue from her bowl of paint, was daubing new markings on the far wall as always, smearing over the red of the previous day with patterns only she understood. A few lonely flames leaped from the logs of her dying fire, illuminating but the vaguest hint of the intricate murals she had painted over the other walls in years gone by. As they walked through Kiren stopped to stare at the markings on the cave's northern wall, her posture stiffening as she examined the tangle of lines and fingerprints.

  “What do these mean?” she asked.

  “They describe the land around us. Meadow says this wall is like a bird looking down from the sky. It can be hard to understand, but she will show you how to read it one day.”

  Much to Netya's surprise, it seemed that Kiren was making sense of the intricate markings already. Something about the painting seemed to spark recognition in the blonde-haired girl, her eyes tracing the lines of mountains and valleys as if she had seen them before. She looked from Netya to the painting, her brow furrowed in suspicion.

  “You made this,” she said. “And you know the Sun People's ways.”

  “We are witches, are we not?” Netya replied with a hint of a smile. “There are many things about us you will find strange.”

  Once Kiren was able to tear herself away from the painting Netya took her deeper into the cave and up a series of wooden steps sunk into a pile of packed earth and fallen stone. From there they emerged back into daylight, and what greeted them was the part of the valley that Netya had grown most fond of.

  Sheltered by a rocky lip on either side, the summit of the valley's northern ridge hid a secret glade, inaccessible to anyone save for those who climbed up through the cave below. The glittering lake that fed the waterfalls stretched across half the area before them, bordered by a shady grove at the far end and several rows of sprouting plants along the edge. Two of the other apprentices and their mentor were hunched over by the water, wading up and down a thin hand-dug creek as they tended the latest line of seedlings.

  Netya took a deep breath of the valleytop air. It was as cool and clear as the rippling lakewater. Whenever she needed to be alone she came up her and lay on her back gazing up at the endless sky. While the spirits could be fickle and cruel sometimes, this was the one place where they always seemed calm.

  She looked over at Kiren, eager to see her new apprentice's reaction. What greeted her was an expression of confusion and anger. Oblivious to the natural beauty around them, Kiren's attention was fixed firmly upon her mentor.

  “You are a sun wolf,” the girl said.

  Netya's apprehension returned. It seemed that the thought Kiren had begun piecing together in the cave had finally settled into place. Whether it was from Netya's accent, her scent, or the subtle difference of her features, those born to the Moon People always recognised her heritage before long.

  “I am,” she replied plainly. Was this her first test as a mentor? Overcoming the distaste and scepticism of a pure-blooded apprentice—the daughter of a clan mother, no less? Resisting the urge to defend herself, she held her composure and silently awaited Kiren's response.

  “Are you the one, then?”

  Netya frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “You are the one. The only sun wolf in Den Mother Adel's clan.”

  “Yes. Why?” Netya's skin prickled as Kiren looked away, her face losing some of its colour. She had been expecting scorn, not... fear? No. It was something else.

  “Your den mother is like a demon,” Kiren said under her breath. “Why would she give me to you?”

  “If the scent of Sun People tastes bitter in your throat then you had best become accustomed to it,” Netya replied firmly. “We cannot pick our mentors.”

  “I don't care whether you were born under the sun or the moon! You are... her.”

  Kiren spun back toward the cave, but before she could flee Netya held out her staff, slamming the butt into the rocks to block Kiren's way.

  “Who am I?”

  For a moment it seemed like the girl was about to bolt, her fingers worrying against the grip of her bow so hard it began to flex.

  “The den mother told me not to speak of this. Now I know why.”

  Netya raised her eyebrows insistently, waiting for more.

  “I came here with another huntress,” Kiren continued after a pause. She spoke hesitantly, but not out of fear. If anything she looked ready for a fight. “A brave and proud warrior. My friend. She knew your clan once, until you drove her out.”

  “We have never driven anyone out.”

  “Tricked her, then, or bewitched her somehow! It was a sun wolf, she said. You are the enemy she speaks of like no other. The den mother knew this, and yet she gave me to you anyway!”

  The soft glade grass seemed to drop out from beneath Netya's feet. She wanted to hope the name Kiren was about to speak was not the one she feared. There was only one woman it could be. One of the few souls she had hoped never to cross paths with again for as long as she lived. Years had gone by since their last meeting, yet Netya had still not forgotten her old enemy. She touched the bridge of her nose, remembering the fist that had once broken it.

  “Huntress Vaya,” she said.

  Kiren nodded with a scowl. “You are the witch who wronged her.”

  —2—

  Foe Vaya

  The huntress's braided hair whipped against her cheek every time she turned, pacing back and forth across the narrow cave until the walls spun around her. The pad of her thumb was sore from rubbing against the spike of bone piercing her earlobe. Not even a day, and already she wanted to scream. Curse the witch. Curse all witches. Twice now she had been trapped. Twice ensnared by their wicked tongues and the weight of her own honour. They had no honour of their own, and so they turned hers against her. The first time, all those years ago, she had not seen the trap until it was too late. This time she had walked into it willingly. What other choice had she had? Betray Kiren and cast her honour into the mud, or bend to Adel's wicked will.

  Your life is mine now, Vaya. You will do as I say. When my witches give you a command, you shall obey without hesitation. If ever you break this accord, your life, your honour, and Kiren's apprenticeship are forfeit.

  The den mother's words whispered from every corner of the cave, hounding Vaya all night long. She was bound by them now—lashed into this new covenant of servitude. How could she endure it? Seasons, perhaps even years of this shame awaited her, looming ahead of her mind's eye like a great black lake. She felt the weight of her fear dragging her down, threatening to smother her fierce soul in those murky depths. But no. There was no going down that path again. She would not let these tricksters best her. Perhaps they had conjured a curse against her already, and its dark magic was responsible for her current doubts?

  That thought helped Vaya shake free from the grip of despair. This was a test of her loyalty. Her honour. She was Kiren's pack-sister, and the two of them had faced greater foes than witches on their journey to Adel's coven. Clan Mother Octavia had tasked her with this duty, and she would see it through to the end. Never again would she be shamed the way Adel and her sun wolf had once shamed her.

  Dawn broke without the huntress noticing, its golden light creeping into the cave as she maintained her restless vigil. From time to time she heard voices outside, but this pack seemed no more lively during the day than it was at night. True warriors hunted under the moon, after all. Vaya curled her lip in grudging respect. Even if Adel's witches courted vile spirits, at least their guardians still held true to the ways of their people.

  Perspiration had begun to trickle down Vaya's wiry biceps by the time someone paused outside the cave long enough to cast a shadow. She stopped pacing and looked up. Alpha Orec, leader of Adel's guardians, stood with the sunlight against his back.

  Vaya glowered at the older man. He had no grey in his beard yet, but she suspected it would not be many more years in coming
. Tall and broad though he was, she could match him in a fight. Yet his face held the look of an alpha, commanding respect and obedience. Leathery sun-worn skin wrinkled at the corners of his eyes, a mane of shaggy brown hair swept back from his scalp to fall about his shoulders. A twitch of the lips, a slow blink, and the faintest incline of his head told Vaya to set her aggression aside.

  One warrior to another, she obeyed.

  “The den mother asks many things of me that I do not understand,” Orec said. “But when it comes to dealing with men and women like you—that I have experience with.”

  “You know nothing of me,” Vaya replied.

  The alpha swept his hand out toward the side of the cave. “Just over this ridge lies the witches' den. My duty is to see that no trouble visits that sacred place. I may not know who you are or where you come from, Vaya, but my eyes know trouble when they see it. You were bold to bring that girl into our territory. Bolder still to stand face to face with the den mother, if what she tells me of you is true.”

  “Has she already shared my shame with the rest of your followers?”

  Orec nodded. “That she has.”

  Vaya turned away, fighting the urge to lash out and drive her fist into the cave wall. “The witch should have just killed me!”

  “You value your honour more than your life?”

  “What true warrior doesn't?!”

  The corner of Orec's mouth pulled tight against his cheek. “One with a little wisdom in his bones. You care so little for your own life? What about the lives of others?” His brow wrinkled. “You've wronged the witches before. Answer me truthfully; would you try to harm them again?”

  Vaya looked back at him with narrowed eyes. “Only one. She knows who she is.”

  “One is enough. Perhaps I should kill you now.”

  Every thread of Vaya's spirit wanted to challenge him to do it. Did this alpha really have teeth, or was he little more than Adel's pet? But she had already made her decision. The shame was hers to suffer, for Kiren's sake.

  “I may value my honour more than my life, but there is one thing I value even more.”

  “Tell me.”

  “My loyalty. Kiren's mother is my leader. She tasked me with bringing her here. For as long as Kiren is an apprentice to this clan, I will do as your den mother wishes.” Vaya felt her blood simmering as the words came out. Her gaze bored into the rock beside Orec's shoulder.

  “I'd say you were lying, but honourable women don't lie, do they, Huntress? You may walk among my clan for now. I cannot pretend to understand what Adel thinks, bringing an enemy like you into our fold, but she is a wiser wolf than I. Treat my clan with the same respect you would show your own, and you have nothing to fear from us.” He paused for a moment, his face turning severe. “But never, ever venture into the witches' valley without invitation. That place was not meant for men and women like us.”

  Vaya dipped her chin just far enough to confer respect. Even if it was against her will, she would sooner submit to this alpha's dominance than endure more scheming from the witches. “As you say, Alpha.”

  * * *

  “Why me, of all people?!” Netya exclaimed, for once dropping the respectful proprieties that usually framed her conversations with Adel. All of her responsibilities, in fact—Kiren included—had been forgotten the moment Netya learned whose company her new apprentice had arrived in. Adel said nothing, merely extending her palm toward the entrance of her cave. Out here on the valleyside there were in easy earshot of the women gathered down below, and the den mother was never one to let sensitive words slip into the wrong ears.

  Netya tugged her feathered headdress from her scalp as she walked inside, setting it down upon one of the rounded boulders just beyond the entrance. Adel's lair was as gloomy and stifling with herb smoke as ever, but the den mother did not even take the time to rouse the coals of her fire back to life before gripping Netya by the shoulders and spinning her around to face her.

  “Because you are ready. You will teach her, Netya. That is my decision.”

  “I am to teach an apprentice who is a friend to Vaya?! She said you were a demon, and sometimes you make me think the same! This is not a test, it is cruel. I think I am about to become a mentor, then I learn that my apprentice already hates me.” Netya shook her head incredulously. “You knew all of this, didn't you? Is Vaya still here somewhere?”

  “You've no need to concern yourself with her. Orec and his warriors are taking care of that one.”

  “She poisoned you! She should be gone—exiled. Please tell me you mean to send her away again.”

  “And show her mercy?” Adel curled her lip in scorn. “If she desires freedom she will have to earn it. Vaya never suffered her rightful punishment under Khelt's leadership.”

  Netya's voice softened slightly. “We drove her from her pack.”

  “She exiled herself willingly. All she had to do was set aside her pride. The choice you offered her was far kinder than she deserved.”

  “This is not wise.” Netya's fingers traced the worn wood of her staff anxiously. “Give Kiren to someone else, or send her back home with Vaya. If the two of them follow Clan Mother Octavia then why do you even want them here?”

  “That is exactly why I want them here.” The icy blue of Adel's eyes had turned black in the shadows. “I have never accepted apprentices from Octavia's clan before. That woman is cunning, just like me. We both know it. That is why our packs have survived in a land ruled by the strength of men. She has always coveted our power. Always been quick to turn the eyes of her enemies our way so that she might slink back into the shadows unnoticed. I need no visions to tell me that she sent her daughter here for a reason. She desires our secrets, and she hopes Kiren will deliver them.”

  “Then send her away! By the spirits, what good can come of this?”

  Adel smiled. “Octavia thinks herself wiser than me, but she is not. Kiren may well succeed her as clan mother one day. Tell me, when you met the girl, what did you see?”

  Netya shook her head in confusion. She had no patience for Adel's schemes, not when she had just learned that her greatest living enemy was no more than a morning's travel beyond the ridge to the south. But Adel's grip on her shoulders was insistent.

  “A wild thing?” Netya said. “She seems more huntress than seer or clan mother.”

  “Wild is right,” Adel replied. “Like a trapped little bee buzzing beneath a cup. She wants to get out, but she does not know how. I think hers is a heart still waiting to be shaped. If it can be shaped to our will, she shall be our seed in the heart of Octavia's pack. A strong seed, ready to wrest control from her mother when the time is right.”

  “Even you cannot turn Octavia's own daughter against her.”

  “I agree. But perhaps you can. You have always had a tender heart, Netya, despite everything you have endured.” A sorrowful look flitted across Adel's face, but it was there and gone before Netya could blink. “In another life I might have envied you for that. This is a task I meant to take on myself, but the more I dwell on it the more foolish it seems. If Kiren is the brash young thing I take her for then she will never listen to a woman like me.” The fleeting look returned again. “I was much the same, once.”

  “What you ask of me is a magic I cannot perform.”

  “I ask for no magic, only the softness of your spirit. Let it call to Kiren. If all goes well, she will be here with us for many seasons. Become her mentor, and show her that this pack can give her everything her mother's could not. Learn what she desires, and lead her toward it. Allow her to fall in love with this valley.”

  Some of the stiffness in Netya's shoulders eased, and Adel squeezed tighter in response.

  “It does not sound so sinister when you say it that way.”

  “There is no greater power than winning the hearts of your enemies. Octavia's clan will never be made to fear us, so we must earn their respect elsewhere. I mean for our pack to last, Netya. When the spirits grace us with a ch
ance to strengthen our standing like this, we must take it.”

  “Yes, I understand,” Netya said. It did not surprise her to learn that this was all a ploy to elevate the status of their clan. Whether by spreading sinister fables, taking apprentices from other packs, or sharing her wisdom with the other alphas directly, Adel had spent years cultivating a web that stretched from the heart of their valley to every corner of the Moon People's lands. Everyone knew of the witches and the legends that now surrounded them.

  Expanding their pack's influence was not what worried Netya, however.

  “I do not want you to punish Vaya,” she said. “Just send her away. Spirits only know how the years may have changed her, but what good can come of keeping her here?”

  Adel paused before responding. “I like my enemies where I can see them.”

  “That is not the truth. Nothing is ever so simple with you.”

  A smile perked Adel's lips. “At least I have taught you some insight.” She smiled little these days, and rarely with any warmth. Her expression was one of sinister satisfaction, and it hurt Netya's heart every time she saw it. Was this sort of cynical amusement the only joy Adel could coax out of life any more? “Vaya is loyal to Kiren,” the den mother continued. “The two seem to be good friends. If one of them ever needs pulling in the right direction, their bond is the tether we will tug on.”

  “You may. I will not,” Netya said. “You should not keep people here just to use them like tools. I know this pack has been your craft and your passion—”

  “Would you rather I led our pack by force?” Adel interrupted. Her lips thinned. “I know you have always thought me cruel, and I will not deny it. I may cause grief, fear, heartache, but those are hurts that can be mended. Small wounds compared to what men like Miral would have inflicted upon us.”

  Netya shivered. Five summers had passed, but the memories Adel's words evoked still held their edge.

  “I would rather you led with kindness,” she said softly.

  Adel's brow furrowed. She let go of her former apprentice and took a step back. “If only leadership were so simple. Keep your tender heart, Netya, and let the cruelties of our pack fall upon me.”