Nik, Davis, Antreas, and their Companions followed closely behind as Mari climbed the wide stone stairs to the birthing burrow. She was glad to see that the door to the burrow had been repaired. Before it, Danita and Jenna had placed their laden baskets of aloe, salves, and the supplies Mari had carefully chosen. Mari added her basket of fresh-baked bread to the group and then followed the familiar path that circled around the large burrow, leading to the clearing where the stream widened so that it provided water for the thriving herb and vegetable gardens that surrounded it. From the vantage point of the burrow, Mari paused while the men and their Companions joined her. She looked down at the impromptu Gathering and a wave of homesickness for her mama washed through her.
Mama should be here. She should be leading the rebuilding of the Clan, and the Beltane Gathering.
But her mama was dead, and it was up to Mari and Sora to pick up the broken pieces of the Clan and put them back together.
Maybe we can put the pieces back together to form a newer, better, happier Clan … one that calls itself a Pack!
Below in the clearing bisected by the nourishing stream, Sora had assembled what was left of the Clan and, bizarrely, the refugees from the Tribe of the Trees. As the Clanswomen raised their voices in harmonious sound that mixed beautifully with drums and flutes—not yet making any distinguishable words but instead creating a magical blending of melody and music, Mari saw that the two wounded girls, Sarah and Lydia, were reclining on pallets, with Rose sitting beside them. Fala and her pups slept nearby. Mari searched quickly for O’Bryan and Sheena. The female Companion was easy to find, as her big Shepherd was a fixture by her side. Mari saw that she was carrying a torch and holding a long, dangerous-looking knife as she walked the perimeter campfires set up in a rough circle around the site, her sharp eyes focused outside the circle of light at the dark, quiet forest. Then Mari noticed O’Bryan was doing the same thing—minus a Shepherd Companion, of course. He carried a torch and Mari saw firelight glint off the equally dangerous-looking knife he carried.
“Wow, looks like a party’s going on down there,” Nik said.
“They’re drinking something. Do you think it’s mead?” Davis asked.
Before Mari could say she hoped so, the tempo of the wordless song changed, became more rhythmic, more familiar. Mari’s breath hitched, and Sora stepped to the middle of the circle, standing before the center bonfire. Mari thought she truly looked the part of a Moon Woman. Her skin still glistened with the silver sheen that lingered after she’d Washed the Clan, making her appear as if she was a fairy come alive from one of her mama’s ancient stories. Sora’s thick, dark hair fell loose, reaching to the curve of her supple waist. She’d braided parts of it with flowers and feathers and vines, shells and beads. She was wearing a tunic top that was undecorated except for simple embroidery, but it was all she was wearing and her naked legs and feet were lovely and drew attention to the graceful way she moved.
Sora raised her arms, as if to embrace the night, and the music went silent. Then, in a clear, strong voice, she called, “Some would say we haven’t much to celebrate, but I disagree. We have the return of our Clanswomen, many of whom haven’t taken a free breath for years. We have made new friends, opening our burrows and our Clan to aid them. Some Clanswomen who have chosen to go their own way—the old way—say that we should reject all Companions and let them live or die by their own means. I thought like that before—before your other Moon Woman, Mari, showed me a different way. A way filled with compassion and understanding, like the Great Earth Mother herself. Aren’t we all, at one time or another in our lives, refugees—whether from our families, who may want us to choose a different path than we desire to walk, or from a discarded mate who disappoints us, or even from a new Clan, if our life skills take us to live in a stranger’s burrow?”
The Clanswomen murmured agreement, several of them nodding their heads.
“And now two Companions walk the perimeter of our Gathering, watching for danger, keeping us safe.”
More murmuring came from the Clanswomen, and Mari was pleased to note that they seemed to be in accord with Sora.
From beside her, Antreas said, “Who is that woman?”
“That’s Sora—the other Moon Woman Mari talks about,” Nik answered for her.
“She’s magnificent,” Antreas said.
Mari gave him a sharp look. A quick movement from the corner of her eye had her noticing that Bast was doing the same. Then Mari’s attention was pulled back to the scene below them as Jenna and Danita joined the Gathering. They rushed to Sora, bowing respectfully before her. When they finished greeting her, they whispered excitedly to the Moon Woman, pointing to where Mari stood, surrounded by Companions and their life-bonded animals.
Mari held her breath. As one, the Clan turned to stare up at her.
Mari’s first desire was to duck and hide. She’d spent her life keeping the secret of who she truly was, and that was a hard habit to break, even though all of the Clan gathered below already knew the secret. But their eyes felt hard and judgmental—as if Mari hadn’t just been stripped of the physical disguise that had kept her identity secret, her matted, dyed hair, her dirtied skin, her thickened features—but she’d also been stripped of her emotional defenses and was standing there alone and naked before them all.
Then Rigel’s warm body pressed against her side. He was staring up at her with a doggy grin, wagging his tail and beaming such love and pride for her that the frantic thoughts that were creating negative stories within her imagination began to quiet.
“Mari! Moon Woman, join us!” Sora called joyously.
“It’s Mari! Mari’s back!” Mari recognized Isabel’s voice, and then several other women took up the call.
“Your people want you, Moon Woman. Lead, and we will follow,” Nik said, bowing low and respectfully to her—and in full view of the Clan. Davis and Antreas did the same, and Mari was shocked and amused to see Rigel, Laru, and even Bast bow their heads and take to their knees before her.
Mari lifted her chin and breathed a small, silent, heartfelt prayer to her mother: Mama, help me be the Moon Woman you always believed I could be. And then, with Rigel walking proudly at her side and Nik and Laru, Davis and Cammy, Antreas and Bast flanking her, Mari joined the first Gathering she had ever attended as her true self.
She stopped in front of Sora and began the traditional greeting to a Moon Woman, head bowed, arms spread low, palms up and open, but Sora caught her in a hug, saying, “I’m so glad you’re back! I was worried when the sun set. Goddess, I hate to think about what could be crawling out there tonight.”
Mari hugged her friend back, struggling to contain her emotions. There was no jealousy in Sora’s expression or her voice, only honest concern and relief. How much we’ve changed! Mari thought. Just a few weeks ago I thought Sora was a selfish bitch and she thought I was a sickly, good-for-nothing brat. And now I wouldn’t want to even imagine my life without her as my friend.
Mari gave Sora one more squeeze, then turned to stand beside her friend and fellow Moon Woman, facing Nik, the Companions, and her Clan.
“Blessed Beltane!” she said, hearing the echo of her mother’s voice in her own as the answering call from the Clan lifted around them in the circle.
“Beltane Blessings to you, Moon Woman!”
“I want to introduce my friends to you. This is Nik, and his Companion, the Shepherd Laru, who is my Rigel’s sire.” Nik dipped his head to the gathered Clan and Laru looked dignified, even as he eyed the Gathered Clan with curiosity. “This is Davis, and his Companion, the Terrier Cameron.” Davis was nodding to the Clan as Nik had when Cameron yipped and jumped against Mari’s leg, making her laugh and add, “Well, his name is Cameron, but everyone calls him Cammy.”
“Unless he’s in trouble; then I call him Cam-er-on!” Davis added, emphasizing the three syllables, which made a few Clanswomen standing closest to them laugh and then cover their mouths as if they were shocked a Companion would make a joke.
“And this is Antreas. He isn’t part of the Tribe of the Trees. He’s from the mountains far east of here. His Companion is the Lynx Bast.”
Antreas waved at the Clan while Bast padded the few feet to Danita to sit beside the girl and groom herself.
Antreas gave an exaggerated sigh. “It seems one of your Clan has already won over my Lynx. Does that make me an honorary member?” He slanted a look at Mari.
“Almost,” Mari said, laughing as Danita stroked the feline attached to her side.
“Mari, what is the news from the Tribe of the Trees?”
Mari searched the crowd until she found the bright-eyed questioner. “Hello, Isabel. It’s good to see you again.”
“And you, Moon Woman. You have been to the City in the Trees, haven’t you? Is it still on fire?”
Mari noted that Isabel was sitting near Rose and Fala’s puppies. She glanced at the pile of pups and sent a silent thanks to the Great Goddess. If you orchestrated this, it was brilliant. There’s not much that touches the heart of a Clanswoman more than a baby—be it Earth Walker or animal. She also noted that Sheena, Captain, and O’Bryan had moved closer and, along with Rose, Sarah, and Lydia, were waiting expectantly for her answers.
“I have been to the City in the Trees, and the forest fire has been stopped,” she said.
There were sounds of relief from Sheena and O’Bryan, as well as Rose, Sarah, and Lydia. The Clan was very silent.
“But I think it appropriate that the new Sun Priest answer any other questions about the Tribe.” Mari nodded to Nik, motioning for him to join her in the center of the circle.
Looking grim, Nik faced the small group of Companions. “First, you should know that my father is dead.”
Mari watched the reactions of the Companions closely. O’Bryan and Sheena, of course, already knew, but none of the rest of them did. Sarah and Lydia began crying softly, hugging each other for comfort. Fala crawled onto Rose’s lap, nuzzling her—though the woman was too shocked to comfort her Companion.
“That’s why Laru is with you,” Rose said. “He didn’t come as your protector or your guide. He’s truly yours.”
Nik nodded. “Yes, he chose to live and be my Companion, rather than to die with my father. And for that I’ll always be grateful.”
“I don’t understand. How can you be our new Sun Priest? There has been no vote. No Council Meeting. No ritual Call to the Sun for approval.” Mari didn’t think Sheena sounded belligerent, just confused.
“You’re right, Sheena. None of those things have happened, but I’m not claiming to be Sun Priest for the Tribe of the Trees. I am Sun Priest for a new group of peoples, a group we call a Pack.”
“Oh, sunfire! Are they all gone? All of our families and friends?” Rose asked on a sob.
“No,” Nik assured her hastily. “Though it’s bad. I don’t know how many of the Tribe of the Trees survived. Rose, I’m sorry, I don’t know if your parents and sister are alive.” He turned to his cousin. His voice broke with emotion. “O’Bryan, your parents—Aunt Sherry and Uncle Lindy—they didn’t make it. I’m so, so sorry.”
His cousin’s head bowed as he nodded, and Mari saw silent tears tracking down his face. “I was afraid of that. They were heading to the Channel when the wind shifted.”
“So the Tribe has been decimated,” Sheena said.
“It has,” Nik said.
“And you don’t plan on returning and rebuilding with them?” she asked.
“No. I don’t,” Nik said firmly. “I find that I don’t agree with the old Tribe ideology.” He cast his gaze around the Gathering as he continued. “My Pack will never take any captives. I swear this on my father’s memory.”
“Which won’t change the old Tribe of the Trees, though,” Sora said.
“You’re right, Sora, but I can’t speak for them. I don’t know how many Elders survived,” Nik said.
“But what’s your guess, Companion?” The question came from a Clanswoman on the far side of the circle. Mari recognized her as Gwyneth, a talented weaver who had been friends with her mother—and had been taken captive by the Tribe of the Trees more than three winters ago.
Nik considered for a moment and then answered in a clear, honest voice, “My guess is they won’t change. My guess is as soon as they’ve rebuilt one of the first things they’ll do is go on a Hunt for new captives.”
A restless murmur washed through the Earth Walkers. Mari raised her hand, and they instantly went silent.
“We have time. Sheena was right. The Tribe of the Trees has been decimated. Rebuilding will not be fast. And it’s not just the City in the Trees they have to rebuild. The floating cages on Farm Island were completely destroyed, so they have to make new ones before they begin hunting us. Before that happens I give you my oath as your Moon Woman that we will come up with a plan to keep us safe. All of us.”
“But are you our Moon Woman?” This time Gwyneth stepped forward, speaking directly to Mari. “What about Sora?”
“Oh, I’m also your Moon Woman,” Sora said with no hesitation. “Mari and I have decided to make some changes. The first of them is to do away with the Law that says there can only be one Moon Woman per Clan.” She shrugged. “It just doesn’t make sense.”
“But that’s how it always has been!” said another Clanswoman Mari didn’t get a good look at.
“Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to be the only person responsible for healing, Washing, documenting, and counseling an entire Clan?” Mari said, hands on hips, facing the muttering Clan.
“I do!” Sora said, then added, “And I haven’t even had to be Moon Woman to an entire Clan yet. It’s exhausting and stressful, and it’s just stupid that something of such importance has been left to one isolated woman. Leda died. You know what happened to our men afterward when neither Mari nor I was able to Wash them.” She pulled aside her tunic so that the purpled bruises and inflamed bite marks that covered much of her body were visible to the Clan. “This is what happens when there is only one Moon Woman for a Clan and she dies. I, for one, am going to do everything I can to be sure this never happens to any of you.”
“I agree with Sora. And you all should know that any girl child with gray eyes who chooses to go into Moon Woman training will be accepted by Sora and me,” Mari said.
“That’s right. Even though we know only a small number of us can actually draw down the moon and Wash the Clan, we don’t know how many of us might have a talent for healing,” Sora said.
“Or record keeping,” Mari added. “Or counseling. We should all use our strengths together, for the good of everyone. All of us.” Her gesture took in the Clan and the Companions. She wanted to continue—to tell the Clan that they would be stronger, better, more able to survive if they accepted Nik and his friends into the Clan—or at least accepted their new Pack as permanent allies of the Clan—but she could see that her people had taken in enough for one day and she worried that if she pushed any harder just then she would be pushing them past the breaking point. “But there will be time to speak of these things and plan a new path for the Clan. Tonight, I see your Moon Woman—one of them—has already Washed the Clan.” She grinned at Sora, who tossed her thick hair and dimpled in return.
“I have, so what’s left to you, Moon Woman, on this Beltane night is to lead us in the Weaving Dance,” Sora said.
Mari felt a thrill of excitement and nervousness. The Weaving Dance! She knew the dance—had known it since she was a child. She and Leda had practiced it together, dancing around the Earth Mother idol above their burrow every Beltane after Leda had returned from the Clan Gathering. But Mari had only danced it with the Clan once, and that was when she’d known just over six winters—before the filigree sun pattern had begun lifting from under her skin, leaving no doubt that her father had been a Companion and that she must hide that secret from the Clan.
Now Mari stood before what was left of her mama’s Clan as her true self, and she felt as if her body wasn’t big enough to contain the sense of freedom not having to hide brought her.
“Mari, everyone’s waiting for you to start,” Sora whispered to her.
“Oh, of course,” Mari whispered back. She sent Nik and the other Companions a look. “You’ll want to step out of the circle. It’s going to get pretty crowded in here once we start.”
Nik looked bemused, but he led the others to join Sheena, O’Bryan, and the wounded girls at the edge of the circle near one of the campfires.
Mari looked down to see Rigel had remained beside her, his tongue lolling in a canine grin. She almost told him to go to Laru—to stay out of the way—but she suddenly realized that she was setting a new precedent. If she sent Rigel away from her, even just to the outskirts of the circle, it would be like sending part of her soul to stand on the sidelines, to be an observer instead of a participant in Clan life.
No. I’ll never do that to you. Ever.
“Stay close, sweet boy. We’re going to dance!” she told him.
Then Mari stepped forward and raised her arms high over her head, as if she were reaching for the moon. Rigel moved with her, his warm shoulder touching the side of her leg. She drew a deep breath and shut her eyes, closing out the watching crowd and focusing on the joy her mama would have felt had she been there to see her dream of her daughter leading the Clan in celebration come true.
In a clear, strong voice Mari began the song, singing the melody by herself, as custom demanded:
“Weave with me, Clan, a dance in the night, always Moon Woman’s delight.
Show me your joy, Washed free of all spite, mystical magick Third Night.”
As the Clan joined in with drums and flutes and harmonizing voices, Mari began the intricate steps of the dance, and the Clanswomen who were not too injured or too tired followed her. Rigel stayed by her side, moving with her, as if they were sharing the steps. The dance wasn’t regimented, though there were steps they all knew. The women wove a sinuous pattern within the circle with an earthy grace that mirrored the rhythm of water over river stones. Flowing through the movements of the Beltane dance, Mari forgot her nerves. She forgot everything—except Nik. As she danced, weaving between Clanswomen through and around the circle, she felt his gaze on her as surely as she felt Rigel’s warmth near her side, and for the first time in her life Mari believed she was beautiful.
“Over the river, over the grove,
Followed from dusk to dawn.
Never I’ll stray, always I’ll stay,
Sweet Washing downward drawn.”
When they came to the second chorus, Mari heard Nik’s strong baritone harmonizing with the Clanswomen, and the burst of joy that surged through her made her feel as if her feet were hardly touching the ground.
“Oh, weave with me, Clan, a dance in the night, always Moon Woman’s delight.
Show me your joy, Washed free of all spite, mystical magick Third Night!
Harvest will come, Harvest will go,
Always from dusk to dawn.
Bountiful night, Washed in moonlight,
Fear and tears gently gone.”
By the third chorus, Davis and O’Bryan, Sheena and Rose, as well as Antreas, had joined the song. Mari twirled and wove between the Clanswomen, and their happiness lifted all around her. Mari soaked in the miracle of this Beltane moment and, if just for a short breath of time, she shed fears and worries and doubts about their future.
“Oh, weave with me, Clan, a dance in the night, always Moon Woman’s delight.
Show me your joy, Washed free of all spite, mystical magick Third Night!”
The dance went on and on, until sweat trickled between Mari’s breasts and she was feeling light-headed. Smoothly changing direction, she wove her way back to the edge of the circle where Nik waited, sitting beside a log with Laru, smiling and clapping his hands in time with the beating drums. Short of breath, she and Rigel collapsed beside him.
“For you, Moon Woman.” Isabel was there, bowing before Mari and offering her a mug filled with fragrant spring mead and, to Mari’s surprise, holding out a wooden bowl filled with freshwater for Rigel.
Mari smiled her thanks and she and Rigel drank deeply while Isabel skipped back to the circle to continue the dance.
“Am I getting old?” Mari asked—only semi-rhetorically—as she wiped sweat from her face and ran her fingers through her short, curly hair, trying to get it under some semblance of control.
Nik laughed. “Old? I’ve never heard of anyone calling down sunfire and then dancing away the night. I don’t know how you managed to stay out there so long when by all Tribal accounts you should be sound asleep.” He put his arm around her and Mari leaned gratefully against him. “You’re incredible. You looked like a moon goddess again,” he whispered into her ear.
“Again?”
“When you healed O’Bryan I thought you looked like a moon goddess come to earth.”
Mari was pretty sure had her cheeks not already been hot, they would have flushed bright pink. “I’m just me, Nik. No Goddess. I’m barely a Moon Woman.”
“Hell, Mari, I’m barely a Sun Priest who has barely a Pack. I think we make a great team.”
Mari looked around the circle at the dancing Earth Walkers and the Tribesmen and women, plus Antreas, who watched them as they clapped in time with the music and sipped cool spring mead. “Just a few weeks ago I could never have imagined doing what I did tonight, as my true self with Rigel by my side.” She stroked the panting pup’s head and kissed his nose. “But look at us all now. I know this is just a brief moment in time, but we have somehow managed to get Companions and Earth Walkers to come together without capturing or killing each other.”
“Because together we’re not barely anything.” Nik touched her face, turning her toward him. “Together we’re perfect. I’m starting to believe there’s nothing we can’t accomplish.”
Mari leaned into Nik, loving the warm, solid feel of his body. His lips found hers, and the kiss deepened. The rhythmic beating of the drums and the voices lifted in happy song pulsed through Mari, finding a harmonious echo in her blood. Heat that had nothing to do with dancing began to build deep within Mari, making her feel weak and strong, liquid and fire, all at the same time. Her arms wrapped around Nik’s broad shoulders, and a shiver of desire skittered through her as he moaned her name against her lips and began to pull Mari down to the soft ground with him.
“Mari, oh, good! Here you are.” Sora hurried up to them, pink faced and breathing heavily. She coughed a few times, a deep, wet sound that had Mari eyeing her sharply. “I need you to come with me.” She arched a dark brow at Nik. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. This time.”
“What is it?” Mari asked, tugging at her tunic and disentangling herself, reluctantly, from Nik’s arms.
Sora coughed again and scratched absently at her elbow crease, then lowered her voice. “It’s better if I show you. I don’t really want to talk about it out here.”
Mari shrugged. “Okay, but I hope we’re not going far. I’m pretty sure I’m at the end of my strength for one day.”
“Not far. Just back to the birthing burrow.”
“Good. You need to brew yourself some tea—red clover and honey will help that cough,” Mari said.
“I will. Later. I’m fine,” she said sharply, making a dismissive gesture.
Nik stood, holding out a hand to help Mari to her feet. When Sora shot him a Where do you think you’re going? look, he said, “I’m coming, too. Unless Mari doesn’t want me to.”
“Oh, I want you to,” Mari assured him.
“Fine,” Sora said. “Come on then.”
They began to make their way back to the burrow, Rigel and Laru beside their Companions. Sora frowned at Laru. “That creature does look like a giant version of Rigel.” Then she glanced at Nik. “I’m truly sorry about your father,” Sora said.
“Thank you,” Nik said.
“Mari, is your creature going to get as big as the Laru creature?”
“Father said he thought Rigel will be even bigger,” Nik answered first.
“I hope so!” Mari said brightly, reaching across Nik to ruffle Laru’s ears. “I’ve decided I like big canines.”
“In that case, I think we’re going to need a bigger burrow,” Sora said sardonically, which made Nik and Mari laugh.
They followed Sora up the wide stone stairs, Mari growing more and more concerned as she listened to her friend try unsuccessfully to stifle several more coughs.
“Hey, you’re really sick,” Mari said.
“It’s nothing. I just danced too much,” Sora said. “But there is someone in the burrow who is sick—and strangely sick at that.”
“Well, some of the Clanswomen swallowed a lot of river water crossing the Channel,” Mari said. “That might very well make them sick. There’s a lot of muck in that Channel. The water really should be boiled before drinking and—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know all that,” Sora interrupted, sounding irritated. “It’s not a Clanswoman who’s sick.”
“Who is it then?” Mari asked.
Sora turned at the door to the burrow, her hand resting on the wood. “It’s Jaxom.”