Page 44 of Moon Chosen

“I have been on fifty-seven Hunts. In that time I have seen many Scratchers, male and female, young and old. Very old. Women more often than men, but I have seen stooped, gray-haired grandmothers. The Hunters do not capture them, as they are less likely to have the strength to tend our crops, but I have seen them,” Sol repeated.

Nik thought about the faces he had seen last night pressing against the bars that covered the windows of their floating houses—their floating cages—and tried to remember if he had noticed any grandmother-aged women at all.

“They don’t live long enough to grow old on Farm Island,” Sol said. “They die of sadness instead.”

“Father, we don’t know exactly why they die. It’s like they decide to quit living—and then that’s it.”

“Tell me, Nik, what did you feel last night while you were there, hearing the females call for help?”

Taken aback by the question, Nik hesitated, considering. “Well, I was tired and worried about the pup because—”

“I don’t mean what did you feel about yourself,” his father interrupted. “I mean what did you feel from the Scratchers, especially this young one you say spoke rationally to you.”

“Well, I don’t know if I felt Jenna’s sadness, but I understood it.” He met his father’s gaze. “She’d just watched one of her parents die.”

Sol closed his eyes and bowed his head. Nik could see his father’s pain, and he shared it. Laru moved from Nik’s side to his father, resting his head against his Companion’s knee.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to remind you of Mother’s death,” Nik said softly.

Sol opened his eyes. “Son, your mother is never far from my thoughts, but it is not only in memory of her that I bow my head. I believe what happened last night was a sign.”

“Really? A true sign?” Nik sat forward, waiting eagerly for his father to continue. Signs held great import for the Tribe. Where once their ancestors ignored omens and portents—so much so that they became completely detached from nature and the living earth—today’s Tribe believed that the earth was ensouled, that animals, trees, and rocks and the earth herself were filled with unique energy and spirit, and that if the Tribe listened nature spoke to them of wonders and warnings.

“Really,” Sol said. “The Scratchers have been often on my mind. I believe what you observed last night, whether an anomaly or not, is a sign that there is more to them than is convenient for the Tribe to admit. Thusly, I will make a deal with you, Nikolas. I will grant you permission to use one Hunter and his Terrier to keep searching for your pup for as long as you feel the need to search, but you must do two things for me in return.”

“Anything, Father!”

“First, as you search for your pup, observe any Scratchers with which you cross paths. Take note of anything unusual about them, but do not capture them, and only report to me of what you observe.”

“I will do that for you, Father. What else?”

“As you know, the Tribe’s numbers have grown drastically over the past several winters.”

Nik nodded. “The Tribe is strong. Almost all of the babies survive the winters.”

“They do, and that pleases me, of course. But it also has made many of the family nests overly crowded,” Sol said.

“The Gathering to celebrate Maeve’s being chosen by Fortina was definitely overly crowded,” Nik agreed.

“Exactly, which brings me to the second thing I would ask of you. Wilkes and his Odin are preparing to lead a foraging party into Port City. If we are to accommodate the fertility of the Tribe we must build new nests, as well as new pulley systems to lift and lower along the expanded city. We need the metal that can only be found in the ruins of the city. I want you to lead the party with Wilkes.”

Nik blinked at his father, surprised by the request. “Father, you know that the Warriors will never follow someone who isn’t Companion to a Shepherd.”

“It is undisputed that you are the best bowman the Tribe has seen in many winters. The foraging party will need your talents.”

“The Warriors appreciate my skill with a bow. I’ll join the party to Port City. But they don’t need to follow me for that.”

“They do need to follow you—or at least listen to you—to benefit from your other skill.”

Nik’s brows furrowed. “Myotherskill? You want me to carve something during the foraging party? I’m sorry, Father, but that makes no sense.”

Sol chuckled. “Outside your mother, you, my son, have the sharpest powers of observation I have ever known. The foraging party needs that particular skill very badly. You do remember what happened to the last group sent to Port City?”

Nik shuddered. “I do.” Two of twelve Companions had returned alive. They had been carrying their mortally wounded Shepherds. Both had died within a double handspan of days, and their Companions had followed them to the grave not long after, but before they died they told a horrific story about how they had been lured into a trap and how Skin Stealers had flayed the captured Companions alive and begun wearing their skin while they were still conscious—

“I need your powers of observation to ensure this foraging party does not suffer the same fate as the one before it,” Sol interrupted Nik’s horrific remembrance.

“I get it, Father, and I’m willing to do as you ask, but that doesn’t change the fact that I am not a Companion and the Warriors will not follow me,” Nik said.