Page 43 of Moon Chosen

His father poured two wooden mugsful of strong, steaming tea, handed one to Nik, and then sat across from his son. “It must be important. You even beat Thaddeus here.”

“We found sign of the pup,” Nik said without preamble.

Sol sat up straighter. “Truly? What sign did you find?”

“Paw prints under a holly hedge near a place where a bunch of Scratchers had gathered.”

“Scat? Did you find scat as well?”

“No.”

“So there is no way to judge how old the prints are.”

“Father, if you give permission for me to return todaywith TerriersI will prove to you and everyone else that the tracks are fresh and my pup is alive.”

“Nik, I want the pup to be alive as much as you do, but logic must dictate our actions, and it is not logical to believe that a half-grown canine has survived for nine nights unprotected in the forest.”

“He’s been in the forest ten nights now.” Nik pointed at Laru. “This is his sire. Why is it so hard to believe that with such strong blood flowing in his veins the pup is still alive?”

Sol’s expression saddened. “Not all sons are as strong as their fathers.”

Nik gritted his teeth against the old pull of his father’s disappointment. He was supposed to be Sun Priest after Sol, but that would never happen if he wasn’t Companion to a Shepherd.

“Don’t you see, Father? That’s it exactly. I can’t be what you want me to be unless I find this pup—mypup.”

“Nikolas, I did not mean to disparage you. I was talking of pups and sires, not of you and me.”

Nik met his father’s moss-colored eyes and saw the lie there, but chose not to challenge him on it. Instead he deftly changed the subject and his tactics.

“We captured five Scratchers last night and killed several males.”

Sol gave a resigned nod. “It is planting season and the Scratchers need to be replenished, especially in light of how rapidly the Tribe has been growing.”

“Father, have you even known a Scratcher not to go gray at night?”

Sol shook his head, giving his son a confused look. “No, of course not. What are you talking about?”

Nik recounted the events that happened, beginning with the first sight of Jenna’s father on the trail, and ending with his realization about the girl’s pale skin and her father’s.

Sol sipped his tea contemplatively before speaking. “I must admit that the Scratchers have long been on my mind. Their lives are so sad, so pitiable. I have often argued with myself about whether keeping them as we do is inhumane. Perhaps something you discovered last night could help them—could make their lives better.”

“But everyone knows they’re like big, walking babies. They can’t take care of themselves. All they can do is make plants grow and live in mostly silent misery. We keep them safe, even from themselves, though their lives are so short. All we ask in return is that they tend our crops, which is already like second nature to them.”

“We enslave them, Nik. And we do not ask that they tend our crops. They are our captives. They must do as we command,” Sol said.

“But they don’t seem to care,” Nik said.

“True, but they don’t seem to care about much of anythingafterwe capture them.” Sol shook his head slowly. “It’s baffling. They must care for themselves in the wild, otherwise Scratchers would quickly become extinct, but on Farm Island they act like they’re unable to protect themselves or do anything except eat, sleep, and tend crops.”

“You really think they’re that different in the wild?”

“I do, son. Actually, I believe they’re drastically different.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because it is the truth. How many Hunts have you been on?”

Nik shrugged. “Counting last night, I think almost a dozen.”