As dusk fell on the City, Death stepped out onto the Balcony of the God. He felt good—great actually. That the angry little Tribesman had chosen Death had been a delightful surprise. It had taken only a few whispers to shift the mortal’s destiny—to link it with His own and then send him back into the Tribe.
“And they shall continue to rot from the inside out,” He murmured to Himself. Then He moved to the lip of the balcony and shouted, “Light the fires!”
Below Him Reapers grabbed torches and held them to the bonfire that blazed in the middle of the courtyard. Then they touched the firepots, which roared to life, casting flickering light and shadow around the gathered People who were all staring reverently up at their God.
Death surveyed His army and was pleased. His People stretched, wheel-like, around and beyond the courtyard, and as more and more firepots were lit He could see their bright, eager expressions all upturned to Him. The carcasses of several animals roasted over the central bonfire. Death recognized four rabbits, three turkeys, a small boar, and even a young deer. The People had been busy doing as He’d commanded. His Blade had already reported as much to the God. Groups of the People had scattered into the forest, tracking and capturing creatures untainted by the poisons of the City. Under the watchful eyes of His Reapers, they had flayed the skin from the living creatures and joined that warm, healthy flesh with their own. Then they sacrificed each creature—quickly, with gratitude—and brought the carcasses back to feast upon. Death could already feel the difference in His people. Their energy was stronger. The young males were beginning to visit Dove’s Attendants to take their ease in the arms of women blessed by service to the Oracle. He laughed to himself. Soon her Attendants will know what it is to be in service to a Goddess.
He spread his arms wide, as if He would embrace them all.
“You have obeyed me, and see what riches you have already begun to receive! Tell me, are you stronger today than you were yesterday?”
“Yes!” the People shouted.
“Tomorrow you will be stronger, and the next day stronger yet. And on the fourth day, at dusk, we will take the City in the Trees as I have foretold, as I have commanded, as I have promised my People!”
The cheers lifting from the courtyard sounded like the roar of a great, insatiable beast. The sound thrilled Death. He gazed down at His People and noticed that they completely avoided one area of the courtyard—the place He’d hurled the mighty metal trident, killing the last of His dissenters. Death turned His head.
“Dove!” He shouted.
Instantly He heard the sound of her small, soft feet against the cracked tile of the God’s chamber.
“I am here, my Lord.”
Her voice pleased Him, though Death knew the truth was that she was terrified of Him—she might even hate Him. Mentally, He shrugged off the thought of her fear and hatred. It mattered little. She had a pleasing body and a gentle voice. She would make an excellent shell for His beloved.
“Little bird, have your Attendants send for Iron Fist. Tell him I want the remains of the traitors cut away from the trident and burned. Not in our courtyard fire, though. Burn them far away from my Temple.”
“And the trident, my Lord?”
“What of it?”
“Do you wish Iron Fist and the Reapers to move it? Perhaps return it here to the Balcony of the God?”
Death threw back His head and laughed. Then He faced His People once more. They quieted instantly.
“My little bird asks if I want the trident returned here, to the statue. Do you know my answer?” There was a waiting silence, into which Death spoke. “My answer is no! I do not need a weapon returned to the hand of an empty statue. Your God will take it with Him to the City in the Trees—our City in the Trees!”
The roar of the People’s worship washed against Death.
“Do you worship an empty statue?”
“NO!” the people shouted.
“Who do you worship?”
“DEATH!” the people responded with one word.
He glanced at Dove. She was still standing there, head bowed in supplication to Him. Something about the inherent grace of how she held herself rankled. She should be more subservient. It wasn’t that she said or did any one thing in particular that annoyed Him. It was more what she didn’t do.
Dove didn’t worship Him.
That was annoying enough in the Great Goddess. She, too, refused to worship Him, but she was the Mother Goddess, Life herself, and not a human spirit housed within a blind, childlike, mortal shell.
“Well, what are you waiting for? I have given a command. Obey!” With His foot, He shoved Dove away from Him and toward the door to the balcony. Caught off guard, Dove stumbled, arms outstretched, and fell heavily to the floor. Within seconds Lily, Dove’s favorite Attendant, was at her side, whispering soft words to her and helping her to her feet. The girl was younger than Dove and pretty, if you ignored the pustules just beginning to form at the bends of her elbows and knees.
Death waited, expecting Lily to look up at Him—to bow or at the very least to supplicate herself to Him in some way. She did not—not until she had helped Dove to her feet and the two girls were leaving the balcony. It was only after Dove stopped and whispered something into her ear that Lily paused, turned back to face Him, and bowed.
Impatiently He waved the girl away, and the two of them disappeared inside the chamber. Death would remember. He would remember that Lily was loyal, not to Him, but to Dove.
“Her blood mixed with Dove’s will surely awaken the Goddess. I will enjoy sacrificing her,” he murmured to himself before facing His people once more and raising His arms to proclaim, “Tonight we feast! And soon, very soon, my beloved People, we will live in a city in the sky!”
* * *
Dusk fell quickly in the heart of the forest, even if that heart had been severely wounded by fire. From his elevated position on the last of the platforms intact enough to bear weight, Thaddeus looked back at what was left of the City in the Trees or what he was coming to think of as his Tribe.
His clothes were stained with dirt and smudges of blackened moss. His face was ravaged by tracks left by tears. But his eyes were dry. Odysseus’s death had changed him irrevocably. He’d tolerated the Tribe’s condolences as he’d made his way back through the meditation platform without his Companion beside him for the first time in more than ten winters. He’d nodded and thanked the Hunters and Warriors who had sought him out to share in his grief. Then he had gotten away from them. They didn’t understand. None of them understood.
Odysseus wasn’t gone. Thaddeus could feel him. If he didn’t look directly down at the place by his side the little Terrier had always filled, Thaddeus could even make himself believe Odysseus was still physically there, as well as in spirit.
Thaddeus’s city was a mess, but that didn’t distress him. Over the past three days little had been done to repair and rebuild. That didn’t distress Thaddeus, either.
“It’s because they’re all sick, right, boy?” He spoke as if Odysseus were still listening attentively at his side. “That’s right! We know why.” Thaddeus laughed. It was a relief to laugh about it—to be able to show his true feelings. “So, what’s our decision? Do we tell them that this sickness—this poison in their system—can be cured? That the cure will make them stronger, faster, even smarter?”
Thaddeus imagined Odysseus looking up at him, his dark eyes glinting with the same sly intelligence Thaddeus displayed. He could almost hear the Terrier barking sharply, angrily.
“No, of course not! I didn’t mean that we tell them all. Just the ones we choose. Like our Hunters, and perhaps some of the Warriors who just today finally showed enough sense to turn on Wilkes and make me their Leader. Think of it, Odysseus! I am the acknowledged Leader of the Shepherd-be-damned Warriors! Soon they’ll be rolling over and showing you their bellies in submission.”
Thaddeus imagined Odysseus wagging his tail and barking gleefully.
“Hey, hey, hey—let’s not get ahead of ourselves. First we let the Skin Stealer sickness cull the wounded and weak from my Tribe. Thankfully, the fire already got rid of the Council—those relics would never understand about our change. Cyril made that clear before I shut him up for good. But you know who would understand about us? Our Hunters and Warriors who have been the most vocal in their anger toward the traitor Nik and his Scratcher bitch. It’s as you and I decided—it’s what you made your great sacrifice for. Odysseus, it’s time I begin taking them aside and showing them what we know—the cure that changes everything. It works fast—remember? It begins almost immediately. They have canines, and whether they’re Terriers or Shepherds isn’t important. All they need do is get their canines to agree to share flesh with them.” Thaddeus wasn’t able to contain his nervous excitement, and he began to pace back and forth, back and forth, across the platform. “They’ll have it easy compared to you, my brave one. They won’t have to make the choice you did.”
Thaddeus bowed his head then as grief momentarily broke through anger. But he waved away his discontent. “It was worth it, and you’re not really gone—no matter what those fools think. Even my own Hunters and Warriors, the ones who believe as we do, wouldn’t understand what has happened between the three of us—you, me, and Death.” Thaddeus shook his head. “No. They will never know, though they will follow me. Oh yes. They will follow me. As for the rest of the Tribe, the wounded are dying off daily. Soon, very soon, those who are left, the ones who are simply infected with the skin sloughing disease, will notice the change in those we share our secret with, and if they ask to join us we’ll save them. If not, they can live sick and miserable. Well, for as long as they are able to live.” He laughed again, a hard, cruel sound. “I never imagined I’d say this, but I’d like to thank those mutant Skin Stealers for what they did to us. Hey, maybe we will thank them when I lead my changed Hunters and Warriors into their poisoned city and purge it of their infestation!”
Thaddeus could picture Odysseus jumping around him, barking his agreement.
“That’s right, boy! And it all starts tonight. The Hunters most easily led are Andrew, Joshua, and Michael. They’re also the three who are most filled with anger about the fire and Nik’s abandonment. I’m going to pull aside Maxim as well. That Warrior is mean, and mean is what we need. As soon as it’s fully dark, we’ll bring them back here where we can have some privacy for what needs to be done. I’ll just have to be sure they keep their canines quiet. No one can know about this until it’s too late. No one!” Thaddeus shouted, lifting his hands in victory as he heard inside his tainted mind the sound of his dead Companion barking to mirror his glee.
Neither noticed the Warrior and her Shepherd, frozen below them, hidden by the rubble of a fallen nest. Claudia’s eyes were huge with shock, and Mariah glared up at the Hunter with the focused intensity of a true Warrior.
Was the man utterly mad? Claudia had heard everything, and she was still reeling from her discovery. For a moment she considered drawing her crossbow and breaking one of the Tribe’s basic tenants by killing Thaddeus.
She even reached for her bow, meaning to do it. She sighted carefully. One shot for Thaddeus and it would be over.
But would it be over? Thaddeus said the sickness raging through the Tribe was curable and caused by Skin Stealers! How? Why? What was this strange cure he spoke of? Kill Thaddeus and what were they going to do? Go to the Skin Stealers for help? Not possible.
And where was Odysseus? Thaddeus spoke to his Companion as if he were by his side, but though Claudia’s sharp Warrior eyes searched the platform, she could find no sign of the wounded Terrier.
And as she stared up the sight of her crossbow at Thaddeus, Claudia realized something else. Her stomach roiled with more than the sickness that infected her. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t murder a Tribesman. Claudia lowered the bow, motioning to Mariah, and the two of them backed silently away from the tree in which Thaddeus was still carrying on a macabre celebration. They made a wide circle before heading east again.
At the edge of the blackened rubble of ruins that used to be a graceful City in the Trees, Claudia found Wilkes waiting patiently, Odin by his side.
“Good, I was beginning to worry about—”
“We have to talk. Not here, though. We’re too close. You won’t believe what I just overheard from Thaddeus.”
Wilkes coughed, cleared his throat, and finally managed, “He should be surrounded by his Hunters in deep mourning. As I was packing to leave, I overheard the news. Odysseus died today.”
“Sunfire! I was right. He has gone completely mad.” Claudia felt all the blood drain from her face. “Hang on. I think I’m going to be sick—” She staggered a few feet away and vomited the contents of her stomach.
“Hey, are you okay to travel?” Wilkes went to her quickly, holding back her hair and supporting her with a strong arm as she retched miserably.
“No, I’m not okay, but we have to travel. And I’m puking because Thaddeus disgusts me more than because I’m sick.”
“All right. Tell me about it while we walk,” Wilkes said. “You can walk now, right?”
“Right. Where exactly are we going?”
“Southeast, to Earth Walker territory.”
“You know where Nik and Mari are living?” Claudia asked.
“No.”
“Then how do you plan on finding them?”
“I don’t. I plan on them finding me. Now tell me about the latest poison Thaddeus is spewing.”
* * *
As dusk softened the light fading over the birthing burrow, Mari and Sora turned to Danita. She stood between them, and Mari thought she looked particularly lovely. Sora had dressed her hair, weaving the feathers of a rare raptor to frame her face, making her look exotic and beautiful.
“Are you ready?” Sora asked.
“I think so,” Danita said.
“You’re going to do great,” Mari said.
“I’m really nervous.”
“Everyone is their first time,” Sora assured her. “I first danced my name in front of Mari while she scowled at me. I almost cried.”
Mari frowned at her. “I was not scowling at you! I was—” A look from Sora broke off Mari’s words. She looked from her Moon Woman friend to the pale, quiet girl standing between them whose face and shoulders still showed the yellowed and purpled evidence of the violence she so recently survived. “I think the point is, Sora’s right. We are all nervous the first time. What Mama told me might make it better for you—it did for me. Remember that you’re not dancing for the Clan or for your friends or for any particular male. You’re dancing with joy for the Great Goddess, sending an introduction to the moon. Forget everything except that.”
“Just dance for the Goddess and the moon,” Sora repeated, smiling kindly at Danita.
“I can do that,” Danita said. “But do you think the Great Goddess will mind that I’m broken?”
Mari took Danita’s shoulders in her hands and forced the girl to meet her eyes. “You are not broken. The men who brutalized you—they were broken. The Goddess knows that. I promise.”
“The Great Mother will strengthen you. Just ask it of her and she will always, always answer her Moon Woman,” Sora said.
“But I’m not a Moon Woman yet,” Danita said.
“Really? What does your heart say about that?” Sora asked.
“It says I want to be a Moon Woman more than I’ve ever wanted anything,” Danita said.
“Heart is what makes a Moon Woman—heart and spirit and tradition,” Mari said. “That’s what Mama always told me.”
“If Leda said it, then it must be true!” Danita suddenly perked up. “I am ready.”
“Okay then. Let’s do this,” Mari said.
Side by side, the three young Moon Women descended the stone stairs to their Pack, waiting in the clearing beside the stream. As they reached the clearing, Rigel rushed up to them, gently carrying a complaining Chloe by the scruff of her neck.
“Are you eating her?” Sora demanded, snatching Chloe from Rigel, who moved immediately to Mari’s side, sending waves of confusion to his Companion.
“Sora, that’s how pups are carried around the Tribe. Nik told me. And you know Rigel would never hurt Chloe,” Mari said.
Sora instantly stopped her nearly hysterical inspection of Chloe, lifting the whining pup so that she could look into her eyes. “Is that true? Is that the way pups are carried in the Tribe?”
Chloe stopped whining and licked Sora’s nose.
Sora sighed and turned to Rigel. “I apologize, Rigel. Chloe was being overly dramatic. I don’t know where she gets that.”
“It’s a mystery to me,” Mari muttered sarcastically.
Danita covered her laughter with her hand.
“Well, I thank you, Rigel, for bringing Chloe to me.”
“So do I.” Mari bent and kissed the half-grown Shepherd on the nose, thinking that this time she didn’t have to bend so far to reach him. Wow! He’s growing so fast!
“Okay, Chloe is situated.” Sora patted the front of her tunic where the pup’s head poked out, black eyes shining with excitement.
“Perfect. Moon Women, let’s go!” Mari said.
They moved ahead together as if they were one—Earth Walkers and their canines. The central bonfire was blazing and the scent of the trout O’Bryan had spent all day catching, as well as roasted garlic, hung heavy and succulent over the hungry people, canines, and feline.
“Moon Women! Our Moon Women are here!”
Mari recognized Jenna’s happy shout. She waved and grinned at her friend, pleased to see Sora following her lead and waving and calling hellos to members of the Pack. Danita called one hello—it was to Bast, though when Mari glanced at her she seemed to be smiling at Antreas as well as his feline. Mari even saw the cat man touch his own hair and then give Danita a big smile and a thumbs-up, as if he was commenting on the feathers Sora had dressed her hair with—which made Mari wonder where exactly the feathers had come from.…
“Greetings, Pack!” Sora shouted.
“Greetings, Moon Women!” they shouted as one in reply.
“Tonight, as Mari and I call down the moon and Wash those of you who are injured, the first of your new Moon Woman apprentices, Danita, will dance her name into the earth, formally introducing herself to our Great Goddess, as well as the moon,” Sora said.
“As tradition dictates, Danita will dance her name by herself, until she has spelled it out once, in its entirety. Then the Pack may join her,” Mari said.
“And please do!” Danita blurted. “I’ll be nervous enough out there by myself.”
Laughter trickled through the Pack as Mari and Sora raised their arms and began the invocation:
“Moon Woman I proclaim myself to be.
Greatly gifted, I bare myself to thee.”
Mari faced one side of the loose circle the Pack had naturally formed and Sora the other. While Danita danced her name across the earth, proclaiming herself a Moon Woman apprentice, those who were injured approached either Mari or Sora, kneeling and bowing their heads for the Washing of moon magick.
Nik was there, kneeling before Mari. He smiled at her before bowing his head, and she rested her hand on his soft blond hair. She spoke lovingly, letting her hand linger.
“I wash you free of injury and sadness and gift you with the love of our Great Earth Mother,” she murmured the traditional blessing, tweaked slightly because he didn’t actually need Washing—he needed healing. But Mari found the feeling was the same. Companion or Earth Walker, when she invoked moon magick she was filled with a cool, silver power that cascaded through her body, engulfing the recipient in the healing embrace of a mother—compassionate, kind, and loving.
“Thank you, Moon Woman.” Nik spoke formally, but the expression in his eyes was anything but formal.
Mari moved through the Pack, keeping in time with Sora. They were done quickly, perfectly timed with the last letter in Danita’s name. The Moon Woman apprentice grinned at her mentors. “I did it!”
“Yes, you did!” Sora said.
“And now, Pack, please join Danita in dance while we accompany her with music, feasting, and song!” Mari cried. With a whoop of excitement, the Pack descended on the food as drums and flutes began to play.
Nik and Laru finally wove their way through the crowd to her. Nik had two wooden plates in his hands balancing a mug filled with something that smelled suspiciously like spring mead.
“You found the mead again, didn’t you?” Mari took her plate from him as the four of them walked to a spot at the edge of the campfire circle that was a little shadowy and less populated than the center of the busy circle.
“Actually, O’Bryan found an Earth Walker named Spencer. Apparently, Sora put her in charge of the mead. He charmed Spencer into digging up another barrel of it. Don’t ask me how. I’ve known him my whole life, so it’s hard for me to find him charming.”
Mari grinned. “I think he’s charming.”
“Oh, you do?” Nik pressed his shoulder into hers. “Do I need to be worried?”
Mari’s grin turned into laughter. “No! But I do like O’Bryan, and he is charming. And considerate. And tall.”
“I’m feeling worried.”
Mari bumped him with her shoulder. “Is it odd that I want to make it clear that you don’t need to be worried about your cousin and yet I’m enjoying the fact that you’re worried? I think that’s a paradox.”
“I think that’s a woman,” Nik mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Not one thing. Your trout’s getting cold. Let’s eat.”
Mari sat, cross-legged, with her back to a log. She expected Rigel to lie down, along with Laru, beside them, but both Shepherds remained standing, tongues lolling, ears pricked, looking around the clearing.
“What’s going on? Is something wrong?” Mari asked quickly, though she didn’t pick up any warnings from Rigel—just hungry expectation.
“Rigel! Laru! Cammy! Fala! Bast! Come on!” Sheena’s voice carried across the clearing as Laru and Rigel stared at their Companions.
“Okay, go!” Nik said, laughing.
Laru sprinted off, but Rigel remained, slobbering and staring at Mari.
“Are you starving him?” Nik asked, bumping her shoulder much as Mari had just bumped his.
She frowned at him. “Of course not. I just don’t know what’s going on.”
“Oh, sorry! Of course you don’t. Sheena’s calling the canines, and apparently a Lynx, too, to their dinner. She’ll have raw rabbit mixed with vegetables, grains, and eggs dished out for them. It’s the way of the Tribe—and now the way of our Pack. We all eat together.”
Mari looked at Rigel, who was staring at her, drool dripping from his muzzle, but not moving from her side.
“Sweet boy, go!” she told him. He barked joyfully and sprinted after his father. Mari laughed. “I’ve never been that happy to eat.”
“Canines feel things more intensely than we do. It’s part of the beauty of being bonded to one. If you concentrate on Rigel while you’re eating, your dinner will seem especially delicious.”
“Really? That’s fabulous!” Mari said. She closed her eyes and thought about Rigel—thought about how much she loved him and how just by pressing against the side of her leg he could make her feel special and protected. Suddenly she was utterly ravenous. “Hand me that trout. I need food,” she said.
Nik chuckled. “Far be it from me to stand between a Companion’s food and her hunger.”
Mari didn’t even notice that it took her no time at all to clear her plate. She only knew that everything she tasted was delicious and she was suddenly feeling very full and very, very satisfied.
“He’s going to make you sleepy now if you don’t separate from him,” Nik said.
“Huh?” Mari said around an enormous yawn.
“Stop thinking about Rigel!” Nik said sharply.
Mari blinked, surprised at his tone. She frowned at him. “Why are you yelling at me?”
“I’m not. Are you feeling less sleepy?”
Mari thought about it. “Well, yes, I am.”
“It’s fun to let his hunger take you through dinner. Your food will always taste better. But you have to stop the connection at the end of the meal. Look at them.” Nik gestured to a spot very near the center bonfire.
Mari looked, and the corners of her lips lifted. “They’re sleeping. All of them.” And they were. Laru, Rigel, Fala, her puppies—minus Chloe—Cammy, Sheena’s Captain, and even Bast were sprawled in front of the fire in various stages of sleep. “Oo-oh, I get it. Rigel was making me sleepy!”
“Yep, he sure was, but you’re back now.” Nik leaned into her and kissed Mari, softly but intimately. Then he sat back and smiled at her. “Danita did a good job of dancing her name. Or, at least, I think she did.”
“I’m sure she did. I wasn’t able to watch her much, but she practiced over and over.”
“You didn’t watch her, but I noticed someone who did,” Nik said.
“Bast?”
“Of course. But I was talking about Bast’s Companion.”
“Huh! I knew it. They’re going to mate. Just wait and see, and I’m glad of it—very glad of it,” Mari said.
“Are you a romantic?” Nik gave her a raised-brow look.
She smacked his arm. “And if I am?”
“Then that makes two of us. My mother died too soon, but she did instill several things in me before she left, and being a romantic was one. You wouldn’t think my father would have appreciated it, especially in his only child, but he did. He often said I reminded him of her.” Nik smiled sadly, staring down at his hands.
Mari touched his cheek gently, and he turned to her. “It’s hard, being without them. I understand.”
Nik cupped his hand over hers. “I know you do. That’s part of why I fell in love with you. You understand me. But I often wonder why you love me.”
“That’s easy. It’s because you accept me.”
“Lots of people accept you. Look around. You have a whole Pack that accepts you.”
“I know, but you were the first Companion to accept me. You could have been mean-spirited, especially after you saw that Rigel had chosen me, and not you. But you weren’t. Your heart is bigger than that. You accepted me, Sora, Jenna, Rigel, Antreas, and all the rest of us. That’s why I fell in love with you.”
“Thank you. I don’t know what else to say except that. Words aren’t enough to tell you how happy I am that we’re together—that we’re creating a new future, a new world … together. But I can show you. If you let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you,” Nik said.
“I’ll let you, Nik.” Mari kissed him then. Not one of her chaste kisses. Not a timid kiss. And not a kiss she broke off because she was suddenly embarrassed and unsure of herself. Mari kissed Nik—fully, passionately—pressing herself against him and losing herself in the touch and taste of him.
Nik broke the kiss first. His breath had quickened, and his eyes were hooded, his expression intense. “You can’t do that out here.”
“Did I do something wrong?” Mari asked, feeling vulnerable and a little confused.
“No! Absolutely nothing!” Nik assured her. “It’s just that when you kiss me like that—touch me like that—all I want is to be with you. Alone. In your burrow.”
“Oo-oh!” A smile bloomed on Mari’s face. “That’s good.”
“That’s good if we’re alone and in your burrow. Not so good for sitting in the middle of our Pack with watching eyes everywhere.”
Mari glanced around them and saw several people, Companions and Earth Walkers alike, averting their eyes suddenly with knowing smiles. Her face blazed with color and she took a long drink of the winter beer Nik had brought her.
“I’ll remember that when we’re alone again,” she said.
“Sunfire! I hope you do,” he said.
They shared another long, intimate look, and as Mari felt herself leaning into him again she straightened and changed the subject.
“So, how’s it going with the women? Are they weaving what we need for the trip?” she asked, smoothing her hair as she tried to stop staring at Nik’s lips.
“Oh yes!” He brightened instantly. “Mari, they’re incredible! You and Sora were right. If I can describe it to them, they can create it.”
“Well, I knew that part, but can they create it in just a couple more days?”
“Almost. They have to weave twenty-eight cocoons. They say they can get most of them done before we have to leave. The rest of them, well, they say they can weave as we go down the river.”
“If they say they can do it, they can,” Mari said.
“So, we’re going to need to take some of the rowboats—like the one you and I escaped the island in,” Nik said. “The other boats, the kayaks, are smaller, but they’ll be helpful if we can rig floating litters behind them. Not much room for passengers with whatever it is the women are weaving the cloaks from. Do you know what it is?”
“Of course. It’s hemp. Nik, that reminds me. We’re going to have to take several young plants and cuttings with us, as well as seeds and roots and bulbs. It’s going to take up a lot of room, but it’s part of what Antreas said we needed to do.”
“Antreas said you needed to fill a boat with plants and cuttings and such?” Nik looked utterly confused.
“Well, sort of. He said we had to prove our worth to the Wind Riders. Nik, Earth Walkers can grow anything. So, let’s show them. Let’s show the Wind Riders plants they’ve probably never seen before, and let’s show them that we know how to grow, harvest, and use the plants. Do they know what a wapato root is, and how delicious it can taste if you bake it just right?”
“They probably don’t, but I’m with you, Mari. My mouth waters every time I think about wapato baked with garlic and salt.” He sat up straighter, obviously excited. “And there’s more, right? More plants like wapato and hemp that Earth Walkers know about, but no one else does?”
“I don’t know what the Wind Riders know or don’t know, but Earth Walkers know plants. And that’s a valuable knowledge,” Mari said.
“I’ll tell Antreas to plan for two boats, at least, filled to overflowing with plant things,” Nik said enthusiastically.
“Okay, I’m going to need help at my burrow. In the pantry Mama and I have many roots and seeds, as well as dried herbs, fruits, and vegetables. I need help packing it all up after I go through it. The medicines must all come with us, but I’ll try to take only the plants that can be eaten on our journey, or replanted once we arrive.”
“Good idea. But wait—does that mean we get no alone time tonight?”
Mari smiled at his sweet puppy-eyed expression and kissed his lips softly. “That is exactly what that means.”
Nik gave a dramatic, long-suffering sigh. “Is this part of Earth Walker courting?”
“No, silly.” Mari kissed him again, this time lingering and whispering against his lips. “This is part of getting ready to travel to a new land.”
“Someday we’re going to be in our new land, surrounded by our Pack, watching Wind Riders race over the plains, and I’m going to pick you up and carry you into our burrow or nest or den or what-the-bloody-beetle-balls-ever we call it and have my way with you. No matter what anyone says.”
“I hope that’s a promise, Nikolas,” she said, her gray eyes sparkling mischievously.
“Oh yes, my Moon Woman. It’s definitely a promise.”