Page 56 of Moon Chosen

This is the last time Mama and I will come home together. It’s the last time we’ll take this turn—walk this trail—circle around this path.

Finally, Mari stood before the entrance to the burrow. Still holding Leda, she stared at the carved Goddess that served as protector of the entrance to their home.

Why didn’t you save her?Mari stared at the Goddess.She loved you so much, probably as much as she loved me.

As usual, the Goddess didn’t answer her.

“You’re nothing but a pretty piece of art. Nothing more than one of my sketches.” Mari shook her head, dismissing the protective statue. She stumbled forward, opening the door with her shoulder.

Rigel was there, sitting just inside the doorway, exactly where Mari had left him hours ago. With maturity far beyond his short life, he came to Mari, went up on his haunches to sniff Leda’s body, and then he dropped back down to all fours, his head low, waves of sadness rippling from him.

“I know, sweet boy. I know. But we have to put Mama to rest before we can grieve.”

Afraid if she put Leda down she would not be able to lift her again, Mari carried her mother into the burrow and took the digging tool from the tidy pile of Leda’s well-kept gardening implements. Then, with Rigel following silently, she slowly climbed the labyrinthine pathway through their bramble thicket up and around to their little clearing.

Mari sank to her knees and gently lay Leda in the soft grass, arranging her arms so that they were folded over her chest, and carefully straightening her neck so that it looked like she might be sleeping.

She approached the image of the Great Mother. This statue was probably the most beautiful, most carefully tended statue in the forest. Her face was lovely, carved from obsidian the color of a moonless, midnight sky. The ferns that made up her hair were lush and bright green. The moss that carpeted her body was soft and thick.

Mari spent no time looking at the statue. She took the tool and, choosing the spot directly in front of the Earth Mother image, she dug.

Soon Rigel was beside her. He dug with Mari, tearing the damp, fertile earth easily, but not with the puppyish enthusiasm he usually showed. Rigel was as silent and somber as was Mari. Both worked until their bodies trembled with exhaustion, and then worked more.

Finally the grave was deep enough and Mari went back to where her mother lay. She crouched next to her and Rigel stayed close, leaning into Mari’s side. Mari touched her mama’s face.

“She’s cold, Rigel. That’s why we have to cover her with the earth. Mama would want it that way. She’d especially want to rest beside her favorite Earth Mother statue.”

Rigel whined softly and nuzzled Leda as if he could get her to move again.

“She’s not going to wake up,” Mari said to herself more than to the pup. “Mama’s going to sleep now. Forever.”

Mari bent and kissed Leda’s forehead, and then one last time she lifted her mother into her arms. Staggering, she carried Leda to the grave and then, oh so carefully, placed her within. She went to the Goddess statue then and picked several of the delicate, lacelike ferns, arranging them gently over her mother’s face before she began to fill in the grave.

When Mari was finished, she sat before the newly broken earth, resting her hands, palms down, on the damp ground. Rigel sat beside her, watching her carefully.

Mari cleared her throat, and her eyes lifted to the face of the Earth Mother’s image.

“Earth Mother, this is Leda, Moon Woman to the Weaver Clan, my mama. My best friend. She loved you and believed in you, and I’ve brought her home so that she can rest with you. Mama said you spoke to her—that she often heard your voice in the wind and rain, trees and ferns, even in the music of the creek. I’m going to believe that you didn’t save her because you love her so much that you wanted her with you. I can’t blame you. I wanted her with me, too. I s-still want her with m-me. P-please take care of her.”

Mari’s voice broke completely then, and as dusk settled over the forest the gray sky opened and rained night’s tears to mix with Mari’s while she sat beside her mother’s grave, and pressed her face into Rigel’s warm, soft neck. Finally, Mari allowed the pain of her loss to engulf her as she sobbed, mourning the loss of her beloved mother while her Shepherd gave voice to his sadness as well and howled his grief into the night.

17

Nothing had gone the way Nik had intended. The day that had begun so bright and full of hope had turned cold and wet and confusing.

“Bloody beetle balls, I hope I never see this particular part of the Scratcher forest again.” Thaddeus shook his head in disgust as he used his filthy shirt to wipe sweat from his face, leaving a streaky trail of soot and dirt smeared across his cheek.

“We caught a break with the rain, though. I don’t think fire’s a threat anymore. Should be safe to leave,” Nik said, putting his own shirt back on and squinting up at the darkening sky. “Good timing, too. If we hurry we’ll be back just before dusk.”

“Good? I don’t think there’s been much good about today,” Thaddeus grumbled. Without another word to Nik, he motioned for Odysseus to follow him and the two of them—sooty, sweaty, and disgruntled Terrier and Hunter—moved toward the trail that would lead them back to the Tribe.

Davis, Cameron, and Nik trailed after him more slowly.

“Too bad about not finding sign of the pup,” Davis said not unkindly.

“Well, we didn’t actually get to look for him,” Nik said. “If we had and not found any sign—thatwould have been too bad.”

“Keeping the forest from burning is a good thing.” Davis grinned and cut his eyes to the trail before them at Thaddeus’s back. He dropped his voice to a mock whisper and added, “And that’s two goods today, but don’t tell Thaddeus.”