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“Give it a few days, love. You’ll see. It gets easier.”
Her mouth opens and I think she’s going to argue that she doesn’t want to stay another few days. After all, I’d promised her we’d leave. My mind races, trying to come up with a plan that will make her want to stay. I’ll offer her closure by talking to the prisoners before convincing her they need to be pitched over the cliffs.
But then she closes it, and looks up at the sky.
“Tonight’s bright. Oh, a full moon—”
Her words are cut off by three females heading our direction.
I WAS JUST ABOUT TO tell him that Hisa mentioned the rituals the females do in this clan when I see three people coming toward us.
After the entire village avoided us, three walk our way.
Bakog tenses, which makes me suck in a deep breath. I relax a little when I recognize Hisa and Aga. The other is an older orc, her hair white as snow and loose around her shoulders.
“Full moon, Bakog. We have come fer her,” the elder says.
“Not yet,” he grits. “I’ve just found her. She doesn’t know about the things she used to do.”
“The last day of the moon, m’boy,” the older one grits. “The others already await. Yer mate will be fine.”
“What is this?” I ask. “Full moon tonight?” How have I not noticed? I’m always aware of the full moon. Always.
“Something you females used to do every moon,” Bakog says. “I think you had fun. You and Hisa used to rave about your moon nights.”
“You’ll love it,” Hisa says softly. “Trust me. No one here would hurt you.”
And I do trust her. We talked about it earlier and I’m kind of curious. So, I take her hand but before I leave, I turn and grip Bakog’s neck with my opposite hand and deposit a possessive kiss on his mouth.
“Have fun, my love,” he whispers, his lips moving against mine.
“You’ll be here?”
“I’ll be nearby. Always.”
With a tug on my hand, Hisa leads me away. The other two ladies walk in front of us on the narrow pathway.
“We can change into a couple of robes when we get there. We always used to. Easier to move about.”
“But our weapons?” I ask, then look around. None of the females wear any. It’s very different, Blackhearts from West Mountains.
“We’re safe,” Aga says. “Our males patrol but out of the way of our gathering. We’ve made it very clear that we shouldn’t see nor hear them. This night is about female magic.”
Another fire is lit in the clearing where they take us.
“Normally, nearly every female in the village participates these days,” the older one says. “But for tonight, we’re having the core group so’s to no overwhelm ye, little one.”
Little one? I think this old crone sees someone else.
Then I notice the other women. There are about a half dozen humans sitting around the small fire, all cross-legged on the ground. They wore long, flowing robes, unlike any orc wear I’ve seen. They must be human-based clothing then. Like Hisa’s princess gowns. The robes keep me from seeing which one is pregnant—which one the little brats have said is my mother. I look away quickly, not wanting to know. Afraid of what I’ll find out.
Hisa pulls me to the edge of the clearing where a couple of the pale, sheath robes are draped over a rock. She starts quickly undressing, so I follow.
Her skin is gloriously green and I’m as pale as the moon, with barely a green tint, though it looks greener with my dark hair. The robe slides over my head and it’s so soft—she was right. I run my hands down my hips, smoothing it. I hadn’t noticed how uncomfortable the heavy leather was, even though the skirt was cut so short and I just wore a vest. And before I had Wruk’s clothes... I wore leggings and a tunic. I wonder what happened to those?
“It’s okay,” Hisa says. “It’ll be fun. Trust me?”
I give a short nod, and avert my gaze from trying to seek out the three human women who sit together, in a row like pretty dolls. I don’t know who they are—Bakog mentioned that Azorr had a human mate. She was the one related to this aunt who lives in Creede. Another of them could be my mother and I’m not sure who the third would be.
