“Okay, one more time,” Danita told herself aloud. She spread her arms, tilted back her head, and began to trace a D into the earth while she attempted to do as Sora had instructed—be graceful and joyful. Danita had decided to settle, at least for the moment, for not tripping over her own feet. She moved alongside the stream, adding letters to her dance and feeling more and more confident—especially after Sora and Mari had left. Danita liked both Moon Women—very much actually—but she was also extremely self-conscious around them. They always seemed so sure of themselves! Maybe she’d be like that one day in the future. “I hope so,” she sighed to herself as she finished the last letter in her name, and then she went to the stream, lifted up the mid-calf-length tunic she was wearing, and waded gratefully into the cool, clear water.
Danita splashed water on her face and arms while her feet found smooth stones. Her toes dug into the mixture of river rock and mud. The feeling was delightful. She kept wading in the stream, not paying much attention to the fact that she was moving with the small current away from the burrow. A sparkle caught her eye and Danita bent to pick up a crystal of a size that fit perfectly into the palm of her hand.
“It’s the shape of a heart.” She spoke softly. Closing her eyes, she gripped the crystal, holding it close to her breast. “Thank you, Great Goddess. Thank you for this sign of your favor.” Reluctant to leave the stream and the magic moment it helped to create, Danita waded farther downstream, keeping a sharp eye out for any more special signs of the Goddess’s favor. Finally, her feet getting cold, she climbed out of the water and onto a gently sloping moss-covered bank. Choosing a wide, flat boulder not far from the stream, Danita lay back on it, staring up at the sky creatures the puffy clouds were creating.
She was drifting off to sleep when a strange sound brought her senses instantly alert. Danita turned, sliding quietly off the boulder to crouch beside it, silently cursing herself, heart hammering in her chest. I should have never waded so far alone!
A flash in the trees on the opposite side of the stream caught her eye, and Danita turned so that she could peer across the water and remain concealed by the boulder and the thickly clumped ferns that surrounded it.
At first she didn’t realize what she was seeing—it seemed so strange, so impossible. Could this be real, or am I asleep and dreaming?
Her breath caught in her throat as she realized she was indeed awake and what she was witnessing was very real.
Antreas and Bast were racing through the forest. But they weren’t simply running, or even jumping over fallen logs and other forest debris. Bast and Antreas were leaping from tree to tree! Lynx and man appeared to fly, and they were playing some kind of silly game, where Bast would run up and swat Antreas on the butt (or anywhere a paw could swipe) and then she’d take off and it would be Antreas’s turn to race after his Companion until he could tag her and then the game repeated all over again.
Danita stared at Antreas as he shouted at Bast, “Hey, watch those claws! You scratched my butt!”
The Lynx chirped at him, in a voice so filled with sweetness that Danita knew the big feline was making fun of her Companion.
“Oh, you think that’s funny, do you? Watch yourself. I’m going to be pulling that black-tipped tail of yours!” And Antreas took off after his Lynx, chasing her around, over, and up trees, logs, and boulders.
Danita was surprised to find herself grinning broadly at the two of them. Of course Bast was spectacular. Danita adored the big feline. What was unexpected was the reaction Danita was having to Antreas. He looked so young and happy that for the first time Danita thought she might consider him handsome. She kept watching him and received a second surprise. His hands! They’re changed! Danita squinted as the afternoon sunlight caught what should have been a human hand, glinting off dagger-sharp talons that had taken the place of fingernails.
“Wow. That’s incredible.”
Danita hadn’t meant to speak aloud—hadn’t even realized she had until Bast’s head snapped around and her preternaturally sharp eyesight focused on the rock and then on Danita crouching beside it. With a delighted yowl that turned into a chirping, happy greeting, Bast broke off the game of chase she was playing with her Companion and raced to the stream, leaping it with one flying jump, running directly to Danita. She giggled as the big feline almost knocked her over, rubbing against her, purring loudly.
“It’s good to see you, too!” Danita kissed the Lynx on the head between her charcoal-tufted ears.
Danita had been so happy greeting Bast that she’d almost forgotten about Antreas. Then he spoke as he crossed the stream in a more sedate manner and joined them. “What are you doing here?”
“Thinking,” Danita said.
“Pretty far from the burrow to be thinking all by yourself.”
“Well, part of getting away to think means getting away. And I’m not all by myself. You and Bast are here now. What were you two doing? It looked like you were playing a game.”
“I’ll tell you if you tell me what you were thinking about,” Antreas said, sliding up to sit on the flat-topped boulder.
Danita gave a well, why not? shrug and climbed up beside him, with Bast jumping up gracefully with her. “I was thinking about being a Moon Woman. And I’m nervous about dancing my name to the moon tonight,” she admitted.
“Aren’t Isabel and Jenna dancing with you, too? They were also accepted as Moon Woman apprentices.”
“No, we’re dancing one at a time, and I’m first. It’s really a personal thing—an introduction through the Great Mother to the moon as another face of the Goddess. Tradition says it’s more intimate, more respectful, to do it one at a time.”
“Then that’s all you need to remember tonight,” Antreas said.
“What is?”
“That it’s personal. It’s between you and the Goddess. That’s all you need to care about—not the watching Pack, not even Mari or Sora. It’s just you and the Goddess out there. No one else.”
Danita studied him thoughtfully. “That’s actually helpful. I’m not nervous about the Goddess; I’m excited. And if she’s all I think about, I can pretend like no one else is even there tonight.”
“Exactly! And you don’t have anything else to be nervous about. You’re going to make a great Moon Woman.”
Danita’s brows hit her hairline. “Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s the truth and it’s a nice thing to say. Or at least I meant it to be nice. The way you’re looking at me right now, I’m not so sure.”
“Oh, it was nice to say. I’m just confused about why you said it.”
“I thought I covered that in the first part of my answer. Because it’s the truth. You’re going to be a great Moon Woman.”
“How do you know?”
“Bast told me,” Antreas admitted.
Danita turned her head to meet the Lynx’s yellow-eyed stare that was so much like her Companion’s. “You think I’m going to be a great Moon Woman?” she asked the feline.
Bast chirped at her, then coughed, then purred like a storm as she rubbed against the girl.
“I know I don’t have to tell you, but for the record that’s a yes.”
“I get that.” Danita blew out a long breath. “And that’s a relief.”
“So, you believe her?”
“Of course.” Danita frowned at him. “Don’t you?”
“Yes! I always believe Bast, even when I don’t want to,” Antreas admitted.
“So, your turn. What were you two doing flying around the forest?”
Antreas chuckled softly. “Flying?”
“That’s what it looked like.”
“I guess it would,” he said. “Bast and I were playing a chase and tag game. It keeps us sharp. Plus, it’s fun.”
“It looked fun.” Danita’s gaze slid down to Antreas’s very normal-looking hands. “Something happens to your hands when you play the chase game. They change, don’t they?”
Antreas’s eyes found hers. “Yes. They change. Does that frighten you?”
“No!” Danita said, surprised that he would ask. “Not at all. Um. So, your hands change sometimes. Like when you’re flying from tree to tree. Can you make them change whenever you want them to, or does it only happen when you’re in the trees?”
“Since Bast chose me and we completed our bonding, my hands have changed, but it’s a change I control.” There was an awkward pause and then he added, “Other things about me are different, too.”
“Oh, you mean like your hair?”
“How did you know that?” Antreas asked as his hand automatically lifted to touch the back of his neck and the Lynx-like pelt that grew there and down his spine.
“Well, it’s obvious. Your hair’s long, but I can see Bast’s fur within it. I figured there’s more of it. Is that normal for Lynx Companions? Did you have that fur before you met Bast? What else has changed? Your eyesight? Bast has awesome eyesight. Or maybe your hearing?”
“Slow down! One question at a time!” Antreas’s smile was surprised and pleased.
“Oh, sorry. It’s just that I’ve been spending a lot of time with your Lynx—but you know that.”
“I do. Bast loves you.”
Danita’s gray-eyed gaze met Antreas’s golden stare. “I love her, too,” she said with no hesitation. The silence between them stretched and stretched. Danita wished Bast would say or do something to interrupt—the Lynx was rarely silent—but just then she was curled up between them, appearing to be asleep, though Danita doubted it. She cleared her throat. “Um, that’s why I want to know all this stuff. It’s fascinating because Bast is fascinating.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“Should there be another?” Danita shot back at him with one brow arched.
“Not necessarily. Okay, so, here goes: Yes, I can make my claws come out whenever I want them to. No, I didn’t have claws or Bast’s fur or enhanced vision or hearing until she chose me and I passed her test.”
“Wait; now you need to slow down. I want to hear about this test, but first would you mind showing me your claws?” Danita gave him a hesitant smile. Bast’s purr heated up.
“I wouldn’t mind, as long as you don’t scream or anything like that.”
“Scream? Why would I do that?” Danita asked.
“Let’s just say that women who have never been around a Lynx Chain can sometimes be sensitive to things like claws,” Antreas said.
“Well, they must be silly women. I won’t scream. I give you my word.”
“Okay then.” Antreas held out his hand, shook his wrist slightly, and from the beds of his fingernails thick, pointed claws emerged.
Danita sucked in a breath. “Wow! That’s fabulous! May I touch them?”
Antreas met her gaze. “Yes.”
Danita wasn’t hesitant. She reached out and ran a finger down the claw of his pointer finger, pressing it softly against the tip.
“That’s really sharp,” she said. “So, it’s because of these claws that you can fly through the trees like Bast?”
“Yes, that and my enhanced strength. My bond with Bast is deep. When she bit me and I didn’t die, it changed who I am at a basic level.”
“Bast bit you!” Danita blurted, her eyes going to the Lynx, who still pretended to be napping but whose yellow eyes could be seen slitted through partially closed lids as her purr rolled around them.
“Yep, and it was the best day of my life.”
“You’re going to have to explain that,” Danita said, curling closer to Bast so that she could stroke the Lynx’s soft fur as they spoke.
“It’s part of the choosing process. When a Lynx picks his or her Companion, she bites her choice. Do you want to see?”
“Yes!” Danita leaned forward eagerly as Antreas rolled up his sleeve, exposing his right arm and the bite scar that was there, surrounded by a tattooed pattern of vines and leaves. “That looks like it hurt.”
“It did, but it didn’t kill me, and when it didn’t kill me that meant Bast and I were bonded for life,” Antreas said.
“You mean it could have killed you?” Danita was staring at the bite scar.
“If she’d rejected the den I built for us, yes. But Bast didn’t, so the venom in her bite changed me, made me stronger, faster, better—instead of killing me.”
“What about these vines and leaves?” Danita reached out and let her finger trace a vine.
“They were added later by an artist who is a priestess of our Great Stormshaker God. It’s representative of Bast and me—vines and leaves linking us together.”
“Stormshaker God? I don’t know about him,” Danita said.
“I can tell you, but it’s a long story, and it has to do with how Lynxes and humans first started bonding.”
“I’d love to hear it.” Danita settled more comfortably beside Bast, half leaning against the feline. “And Bast needs a nap. So, why not tell me?”
“Why not indeed?” Antreas muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing. Sure, I’ll tell you the story. Just let me know if you get bored.”
“Don’t be boring and I won’t get bored,” Danita said with a cheeky glance his way.
“I’ll do my best. Okay, so the story goes like this: In ancient times, when the sun storms raged throughout the world, destroying civilization as they knew it, a small group of people escaped into the Rocky Mountains, trying to find respite from the sun and shelter from the storms. This group brought their cats with them.”
“Cats? You mean Lynxes, only they called them a different name?”
“No, I mean cats. It’s why it can be insulting to call me a cat man, or call Bast a cat.” Bast growled low in her throat, though she didn’t open her eyes. “Cats were a lot smaller and less powerful than Lynxes, and they lived in cities with their humans, and not in dens like Lynxes. They weren’t free, or partners with their Companions. Cats were pets.”
“Oh, okay. I understand. Go on.”
“So, this group of people fled to the mountains, with their cats.”
“Seems like a lot of effort when they’re fleeing for their lives, you know—to carry cats along with them. I mean, you said they were smaller, and pets. I’m guessing they couldn’t take care of themselves like Bast can.”
“You’re right, but the ancients loved their cats, just as the ancestors of the Tribe of the Trees refused to leave their dogs behind. So, they brought their cats. A great storm was raging, threatening to wash the group from the mountain trail, and somehow they found the entrance to a den. They ran in to take shelter, only to find a mother Lynx was giving birth to a litter of kittens. The Lynx mother was dehydrated and ill, barely able to give birth to the last of her kittens.
“The humans weren’t sure what to do. Most of them huddled near the entrance to the den, staying well away from the Lynx. But one of the women in the group had a mother cat who, not long before, had given birth to a litter of kittens, only to watch each of them die as they fled into the mountains. The woman felt such empathy for the Lynx that we believe the two of them formed the first of the Companion bonds.”
“Really? What happened next?”
“The woman helped the Lynx give birth to eight healthy kittens, and then the mother Lynx died.”
“No!” Danita said, causing Bast to grumble before relaxing back into sleep.
“Yes, but first the Lynx bit the woman, Marking her as her own, inserting her scent into the woman’s blood so that her kittens would know her.”
“Yeah, what about the babies?”
“The woman’s cat nursed them, raising them as her own,” Antreas said.
“That’s a sad but nice story,” Danita said.
“There’s more. The humans, the baby Lynxes, and the cats were trapped in the den—some say for four days, some for fourteen, and some even say for forty full days and nights. Whichever it was, the number four will always be sacred to Lynx people. During this time our God, the Great Stormshaker, pounded the mountains with lightning and sun storms, and something happened within that den—something happened within the Lynx babies, and the humans. When the humans emerged, they were forever changed, as were their children and their children’s children. They were bonded on a physical and mental level with the Lynx kittens. That was the first Chain.”
“I love that story,” Danita said, stroking Bast’s soft coat but meeting Antreas’s gaze.
“So, you understand now why Bast biting me was the happiest day of my life?”
“I do. Well, actually, I think the happiest day of your life was when you didn’t die from her bite,” Danita said, smiling at him.
“You’re right about that,” he said. Antreas paused then. He cleared his throat and drew a deep breath. “Danita, may I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
“May we start over? Act like we’re just now meeting? I feel like I was a stupid fool when we first met and I—”
“Yes,” Danita interrupted.
“Yes?”
“Yes, we may start over. I’d like that,” Danita said.
“So would Bast.”
“But not you?”
“Sorry, I’m still messing this up. Yes, I would like to start over, too. Um, Bast and I found something for you.” Antreas reached behind him, pulling four long feathers from the satchel he carried strapped across his back.
“Oh! They’re raptor feathers! They’re beautiful! There are so few raptors left. We almost never find their feathers.” She reached for the feathers eagerly but pulled her hand back. “You should keep these. They would make a valuable trade.”
Bast coughed and shifted position, laying her head on Danita’s lap. “Bast says they’re for you. She found them. I just carried them to you. Bast would’ve gotten them all slobbery.”
The big feline slitted her eye at her Companion and sighed dramatically before rolling over and repositioning herself across Danita’s lap.
Danita giggled. “I think I got that without your translation.”
“Good. I’m not going to repeat what she just said.” Antreas offered the feathers again. “Please take them as a gift. From Bast. And from me.”
Slowly, Danita took the feathers, taking her time to examine and comment on the beauty of each one before she leaned down and kissed Bast on her nose, saying, “Thank you! I love them.” Her gaze lifted to Antreas. “And thank you, too.”
“You are very welcome. I’m glad they make you smile. I like your smile. Uh, so does Bast,” he added hastily.
Danita cocked her head, studying him. “You know I was attacked not long ago by a group of males, don’t you?” Her voice quiet but as steady as her gray-eyed gaze.
“I do. I’m sorry about it. I wish I could have stopped it from happening to you. So does Bast.”
“I know she does.” Danita blinked quickly as she stroked the sleepy feline. “But no one was there to stop it. The Clansmen. They hurt me. They raped me. I—I’m not sure if I can ever be like a normal girl again.”
“Normal is overrated,” Antreas said.
Danita looked up at him, her eyes awash in unshed tears.
“I’m not normal, either,” he continued. “Lynxes always choose a Companion of their own sex, but Bast chose me. Lynxes are always solitary. They mate and have young, of course, but the male felines don’t live with the female felines and the kittens leave the dens, never to return, when they have barely weathered one winter. I’ve never liked the idea of living such an isolated life, and neither has Bast. So, Bast and I, we’re not normal, either.”
“I’m glad you’re not normal,” Danita said.
“For the first time in my life, I’m glad, too,” Antreas said.
They stared into each other’s eyes for a long time while the feline between them pretended to sleep, even as her rolling purr gave her away.