Page 16 of Moon Chosen

Joining her Tribe, Maeve opened herself to life. The ancient pines swayed gently, as if joining her in an exultation of joy, causing the sunlight to catch the strands of strands of beads, bone, and crystals that the Tribe’s artists draped all around the cluster of massive trees, making them to appear as if they, too, were celebrating life anew. Maeve thought she had never seen such an exquisite sight.

“And behold the last beams of our lifeline—our salvation—our Sun! The Tribe of the Trees shall drink them in with me!” Sol’s voice was amplified by the power of sunlight, and as one, the Tribe embraced the light that the mirrors caught and reflected among the people.

Above the Tribe, Maeve watched enraptured while Sol’s gaze locked on the setting sun. His eyes trapped the day’s last beams and they changed color, turning from the mossy, muted green that marked all of the Tribe’s eyes, to blaze a brilliant gold as the priest began to absorb the power of the sun. Laughing joyously, Sol spread his arms even farther apart, and as the sunlight coursed through his body, the filigreed patterns of the fronds of the Mother Plant became visible, glowing beneath his golden-hued skin.

Maeve bent and caressed Fortina before her greedy gaze went to the light, and she, too, opened her arms to embrace the sun. Maeve was well used to gathering within her the life-sustaining energy the sunlight provided for all of the Tribe as each morning and each evening its power was trapped and reflected through mirrors, glass, and beads, and shone onto the Tribe within the protective canopy of their home. But it had been more than three winters since Maeve had risen above the canopy to taste unimpeded light, and she was not used to the brilliance of unfiltered sun. She gasped in pleasure as a rush of heat and energy coursed through her.Thank you, oh thank you for bringing Fortina to me,Maeve sent the heartfelt prayer to the Sun. Her own eyes glowed and the delicate patterns of the Mother Plant lifted through her body to mark her skin with the power of the golden beams. Maeve glanced down at her pup and felt another thrill of pleasure. Fortina’s eyes were glowing with the same golden light that radiated from hers, proving beyond any doubt that she had been chosen—that they were now linked forever through the bond of sunlight and love.

“Movement by the Channel!” a strong voice called out. “South of the bridge. At the edge of the wetlands.”

“I see them!” came anther voice, this one farther away than the first and faint. “Looks like a big male is trying to grab two females.”

Jarred by the interruption, Maeve’s eyes automatically went to Sol. He issued a single command, “Stop them!” He did not take his gaze from the setting sun. And Maeve understood that he didn’t need to. The lookouts would do as they had been trained. The Tribe would have it no other way.All must have a purpose. In fulfilling the needs of the Tribe, the individual’s needs will then be fulfilled.Maeve knew the truth of that saying in more than words. She registered the right of it throughout her blood and her body, her heart and her soul. So she did not turn her gaze from the sun because she questioned the fidelity of the lookouts, but rather because she valued the certainty with which they would perform their duty.

Movement on the platform halfway down the hillside to her right drew Maeve’s gaze. She smiled as the lookout lifted the beautifully carved crossbow, notched it, and aimed. Maeve followed his line of sight in time to see three figures emerging from the golden Channel. With a grace that was fluid and effortless, the lookout fired rapidly three times,Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!Each of the escapees crumpled, one after another. The largest of the three and then the two smaller figures disappeared into the tall grasses that grew green and thick near the Channel as if they had come to the end of a beautifully choreographed dance and were bowing to kiss the ground.

“Three Scratchers down!” the lookout reported. “Should I fetch them?”

Without turning his face from the sun Sol answered. “I will not risk a Companion this near to dark. If they are not dead now, they will certainly meet death within the night, may the Sun make their passing as pain-free as possible.”

The lookout saluted Sol and returned to scanning the distance.

Maeve faced the sun as the priest spoke softly, “That they run shows the futility of trying to domesticate them.”

Maeve felt a start of shock. “Domestication? Of the Scratchers? I haven’t heard the Tribe speaking this madness.”

Sol shook his head. Maeve was surprised to realize he sounded sad and weary. “The Tribe does not speak of it, but sometimes I think of the Scratchers and the horror that must fill their lives, and I am troubled.”

“Sol, we care for them. We give them purpose. We protect them, even from themselves. Yet they are so base that over and over again they flee our safety and care and, heedless, rush to their destruction. And at sunset! They know what waits with the coming of the night. What can be done with such creatures?”

Just when Maeve despaired of the priest responding, the cool evening breeze brought the muffled sound of the words he whispered more to himself than to her.“Yes, whatcanbe done with such creatures…”

6

“She made her choice! She made her choice! Another Companion is complete!”

Nik dropped the knife he’d been using to carve the finishing designs across the stock of the crossbow, and narrowly missed slicing his own foot.

“Nikolas—concentrate. No matter what is happening around you. No matter the distraction. You mustalwaysretain your focus when handling a blade. You know this well. I should not have to remind you!” The Carver frowned at him and the small, wiry canine that was never far from the old man raised his head and pointed his gray muzzle in Nik’s direction, giving the young man a scornful look.

Nik opened his mouth to protest—the knife had just slipped—it had been a harmless accident! But his gaze had been drawn to the old man’s right leg, the one that was completely swathed in bandages. Nik knew all too well the ruin that lay beneath the poultice wraps, and he silenced his excuses.

Accident or no, the end could be the same for him had Nik’s flesh been sliced—blight and a death sentence, with no chance at being healed and whole again. Nik looked away from the old man’s admonishing gaze, nodding his head. “Yes, sir, you’re right. I’ll be more careful.”

The Carver was grumbling a reply when O’Bryan stuck his head inside the doorway to the Woodworking nest. “Cousin! What are you doing in there, slug sitting?” The excited young man sent the Carver what would have been a respectful nod had it not been belated. “Beg pardon for the interruption, Master Carver, but the last female of the litter has chosen.”

“Yes, so we have already heard,” the Carver said, then in a tone that showed that even the old man was unable to keep his curiosity in check, he added, “We heard she had chosen, but notwhothe new Companion is.”

“Well, she’s not really new, but she is definitely a Companion once more,” O’Bryan said, smiling sardonically. “The pup chose Maeve.”

“Maeve! She lost her Taryn three winters past.” The Carver sounded as pleased as surprised. “Well and good—well and good. I am glad for her. It is a terrible thing to lose your Companion.” He looked down at the canine who leaned against him and ruffled his ears fondly.

Too distracted to be fazed by the emotions of the old man and his canine, Nik scowled in irritation and blurted, “Maeve? The female Shepherd chose Maeve? But she’s old!”

“And making a comment like that has you sounding like you’re a callow youth and not the fully grown man you so loudly proclaim yourself to be,” the Carver snapped.

“I meant no disrespect, sir,” Nik said. “But I can’t be the only one who’s going to wonder at the waste of having a Leader choose someone whose life is more than half over.”

“Nik doesn’t mean—” O’Bryan began but the Carver cut him off.