Page 19 of Moon Chosen

Nik gulped air.

“He’s a fine-looking young canine,” O’Bryan said.

Not able to find his voice, Nik nodded.

“I heard your father talking to one of the Guardians. He said this pup is even bigger and stronger than Laru was at his age. He said that he expects him to choose a Companion who is going to be a great Leader.”

Nik took a drink of his beer and wiped the foam off his mouth with the back of his hand, saying, “I’ve heard him say the same.”

“Nik, the pup doesn’t have a Companion yet. He’s almost six months old. He must choose soon. Maybe hewillchoose you,” O’Bryan spoke softly but earnestly, his words for Nik’s ears alone.

Nik choked out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob and started to say,I would give anything—anything at all if he would choose me,when there was a roll of drumbeats, like the pounding of an excited heart.

The crowd that was perched around the drawbridge to the platform parted, and with a swirl of her rabbit pelt cloak, the Storyteller made her way to stand before Sol and Maeve. By her side padded her Companion, a tall, black-faced Shepherd whose chest and neck were so massively muscled that the Tribe had nicknamed him Bear—a nickname that had stuck so firmly that not even the Storyteller called him by any other. The woman and canine stopped before the Place of Honor, nodding respectfully to Nik’s father.

“It is a blessed day, Sun Priest.” Even speaking this simple sentence, the Storyteller’s voice was spectacular. It carried easily across the platform, up and out into the protective canopy of the mammoth pines, spreading like winter fog to fill each hollow, pod, and nest.

Sol smiled warmly. “It is, indeed, Ralina. Do you have a new tale for us? That would be the perfect ending to this day’s blessings.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not,” Ralina said. “You know the dictates of tradition, Sol. Tonight our newest Companion chooses my tale.” Her emerald gaze went to Maeve. “May the Sun bless your union with Fortina,” she said with uninhibited warmth.

“Thank you, Ralina. It has been an unexpected, but magickal day.” Maeve lovingly stroked the young canine sleeping by her side.

“So, tell me my dear friend, which tale would you have me tell?”

With no hesitation Maeve said, “The Tale of Endings and Beginnings.”

There was a pleased murmur through the Tribe that reminded Nik of the sound of pine needles rustling in the wind, but he couldn’t stifle a moan.

“What?” O’Bryan whispered.

“That old tale again. Why didn’t she chose the new tale we all know Ralina’s been working on?”

O’Bryan shrugged. “Maeve’s all about tradition. And it’s an old tale, but a good one.” He muffled a burp before pouring himself another mug of the rich beer. “When you get chosen—”

O’Bryan’s whispered support ended mid-sentence when Ralina took her place before the largest of the metal braziers that formed a semicircle around the Mother Trees and their precious cargo, the Mother Plants. The Tribe went silent with hushed expectation. With a dramatic flourish, Ralina threw off her cloak and the confined fires suddenly blazed high, changing from the yellow flames of the sun to a mystical green-blue. As one, the Tribe sighed in appreciation of the Storyteller’s loveliness. Under the cloak Ralina wore a simple knit shift that had been dyed a golden yellow to match the rich fall of her hair. Every inch of the shift was lovingly decorated with a rainbow of beads and mirrors and shells, so that as Ralina spoke her tale was set to a score created by the music of her graceful movements.

Even Nik, who knew every word of the familiar tale, couldn’t look away from the spell the Storyteller began to weave.

“And so it shall be the Tale of Endings and Beginnings.” Ralina gestured with her words, causing the fringe that cascaded from her sleeves to flutter beautifully. “Once upon a time, the world was much smaller than it is today. People covered the surface of our green earth, choking out the trees with cities of stone and metal and glass, and filling up the spaces in between with labyrinths of concrete over which they traveled. These labyrinths did not grow, did not breathe, did not live.”

While Ralina told the beginning of her tale, she moved liquidly to stroke the bark of the nearest pine. “The trees were lost, unnurtured, unprotected. The people did not know they breathed and did not care that they struggled to grow. The people believed in only one thing—nurtured only one thing—protected only one thing—a dead, deceptive thing calledtechnology.” Ralina whirled with sure, quick steps, moving across the platform, saying, “The world continued to turn. Winters were seen and easily survived. People lived for the dead, deceptive thing, secure in their dominion over all.” Ralina stopped spinning, once more at her place before the centermost brazier. Her lowered eyes lifted and she cast her gaze to the east as if she could look through the verdant canopy of ancient pines and see the distant, dark horizon. “But the people could not hold dominion over the Sun!”

“The Sun!” the Tribe echoed Ralina’s words.

The Storyteller smiled and her hands once more began to move in a slow, graceful pattern around her.

“It began gradually. Our Sun belched displeasure, warning the people and sending rays of power to disrupt the things that fueled technology. Far above the earth, though not as far above it as the Sun, the rays of power first destroyed the orbiting things that were man-made. Did the people heed the Sun’s warning?”

“No!” the Tribe responded as one.

“No, they did not,” Ralina agreed. “Then the Sun, ever vigilant, spat more rays of power at the people, and the thing calledelectricitywas burned away. Did the people heed the Sun’s warning?”

“No!” the Tribe intoned.

Ralina’s voice dropped and deepened until, eerily, she sounded as if the tale possessed her and was now telling itself. “So then the Sun belched its power at the people, over and over again—day after terrible day—untilallwas destroyed.All!That which fueled technology, and the technology itself. In a beautiful, fiery blaze—all that was dead and deceptive burned and burned and burned.” The power of the Storyteller’s voice echoed through the silent Tribe. She spread her arms wide. “But our Sun was not sated yet, because the people still did not heed the warnings. As they raced to rebuild their dead and deceptive technology, our Sun sent one last warning, so bright—so hot—so filled with righteous power that it caused the very firmament above us and the earth below us to change.”

Ralina’s swaying movements stilled.