Page 171 of Sun Warrior

There was little breeze, and what there was of it brushed softly against his face. Nik was grateful for that. No canine should be scenting for him or Laru, but there was always the chance that someone—and by someone Nik was specifically thinking of Thaddeus’s sharp-nosed Odysseus—would accidentally pick up their scent, and that could be deadly.

And then Nik got even closer to the Tribe, and worry about someone scenting them evaporated. The Tribe reeked. Borne on the gentle breeze, death and disease drifted to Nik, filling his nose with a thick, fetid stench that had him wanting to gag. Beside him, Laru sneezed violently several times and even sprinted off the path and into the surviving forest to rub his face in a patch of moss before he padded back to Nik’s side.

“I know. It’s bad,” Nik said to Laru. “Sunfire! Little wonder they’re going mad.”

Nik heard coughing before he caught the murmur of voices and he slowed. Moving between concealing rubble and brush piles, Nik and Laru inched ever closer to the settlement. Finally Nik ran out of the blackened landscape left as aftermath of the devastating forest fire. This part of Tribal territory was as familiar to Nik as was his own nest. Hehad often accompanied his mother to the huge old pine that had once been the heart of the Tribe and after being outgrown still served as sanctuary for artists to work and meditate. After her untimely death, Nik had kept coming to the meditation platform because he felt closest to her there.

Finally he took a knee behind a massive cedar whose low-hanging branches almost touched the mountains of ferns growing beneath it. From there, he was close enough to see the meditation platform and what was left of the Tribe.

Nik’s chest constricted with the magnitude of the devastation before him. Tribesmen and women lay on makeshift pallets that circled around the tree. People were tending the wounded and ill, but even from a distance Nik could see that they, too, were coughing and scratching at their arms and legs, as well as moving slowly, painfully. Campfires were lit and he could see pots simmering over them, but the only thing he could smell was decay.

He watched as long as he could, but soon he knelt beside Laru and took his Companion’s face between his hands, speaking quietly, earnestly, to him.

“You must stay here. Hide. Don’t let anyone see you—no matter what happens. If I’m taken go to the Channel. Wait for Mari and the Pack to get there around dusk. Tell her to get free. Tell her I’ll follow you and her—that Iwillescape—but don’t let her come here. Don’t let her fall into their trap. Do you understand?”

Laru huffed softly, sending a wave of warmth and understanding to Nik. Then he rested his head against his Companion’s chest. Nik knew he was trying to hide it, but he could feel Laru’s stress and fear. He wrapped his arms around the huge Shepherd’s neck, hugging him close.

“Hey, big guy, don’t worry. I won’t let you lose me, too. I promise. I love you, Laru. Always.”

Laru licked his face, but Nik could see tears streaking down the Shepherd’s sable-colored fur.

“I promise,” he repeated. “You won’t lose me.”

Then Nik stood and carefully rearranged his cloak so that the hood shielded most of his face. He pulled his dirty sleeves down. Except for the bloody marks on his hands and wrists, his healthy skin was completely covered.

He stared down at himself, seeing a stranger and understanding, if only for a moment, how Mari must have felt having to conceal her true self all those years.

“Never again, Mari,” he murmured the promise. “That’s why we’re building a new world—so that we can all be our truest selves.”

Nik hugged Laru once more and then stepped out from behind the concealing cedar, changing his movements and his body language. He hunched his shoulders and bent at the waist, as if his stomach pained him. He tried a few ragged, wet coughs and forced his breathing to be audible. Then, slowly, slowly, he began shuffling forward, heading to the familiar entrance to what used to be a place of serenity and beauty but was now a place transformed into a waking nightmare by death and disease.

Nik had to make his way around the sick and wounded. Most of them didn’t even glance up at him. He forced himself not to look at their faces. Forced himself not to see what had become of friends and colleagues.If I look—if I recognize any of them—I won’t be able to leave them to this awful fate. This is for Mari and our Pack. I have to get in and get out, for our Pack.

He was almost at the tree when laughter drew his attention. At first he thought he might be hearing things, but when he glanced up from under the hood of his cloak Nik saw a small group of Tribesmen and their canines, led by Thaddeus, striding into camp.

“Ralina! You asked and my Hunters and I provided!” Thaddeus crowed.

The Storyteller emerged from an area near the other side of the old tree. She moved slowly and Nik heard her coughing, but she stood straight and went directly to the Hunter.

“What is it, Thaddeus?” she asked, wiping her hands on the bloody apron she’d tied over her dirty tunic.

Nik was pleased to hear disdain in her voice.Maybe not everyone has bought into what Thaddeus is trying to sell,he thought.

“Turkeys!” Thaddeus exclaimed. He made a brisk gesture, and the three Hunters behind him whom Nik recognized as Andrew, Joshua, and Michael, reached into their trap bags and pulled out several fat birds, tossing them at Ralina’s feet with a nonchalance that boarded on disrespect. Then a fourth Tribesman stepped up with the Hunters, opened his bag, and added two more turkeys to the pile. A familiar Shepherd stood beside the man, and Nik felt a jolt of shock—it was Goliath, a large, mature Shepherd who had bonded to Maxim a decade earlier. Nik felt as if he were dreaming as he watched Maxim with the other Hunters laugh and jokeas if they weren’t ill at all!

Nik studied the men and their canines. Yes, all four of them looked strong, but they weren’t completely well. Nik could see bloody bandages wrapped around their elbows, wrists, and even knees, though they rarely coughed. Their eyes weren’t glassy with fever. Their faces weren’t flushed with unnatural heat. And they obviously had a lot more energy than the rest of the Tribe.

Nik’s gaze went from the men to their Companions, and he noticed that the canines didn’t look as healthy as the men. The three Terriers and one Shepherd moved slowly, if they moved at all. Each of them lay down gingerly as soon as their Companions entered the clearing, as if there was something wrong with their stomachs. Goliath shifted his body then, stiffly, painfully, and Nik caught sight of his underbelly—and he sucked in a breath. Goliath had bloody wounds on his flesh! Nik’s own stomach roiled with nausea as he realized what he had to be seeing.Someone had flayed strips of flesh from the bellies of the canines! Sunfire! What he and Mari had only guessed at seemed right—Thaddeus was flaying the skin from canines and merging it with Companions, just like Skin Stealers did! And it was transforming them!

Nik turned away, unable to watch any more of Thaddeus and his gang as they postured and strutted while their canines suffered silently beside them. He slid around the tree, taking advantage of the fact that Thaddeus had everyone’s attention, easily finding the wide, sturdysteps that had been built into the tree generations before. He moved quickly up the stairs, only changing his posture again as he reached the main platform. Here, in this place that had been fashioned for beauty and meditation, were the most severely wounded and sick. The stench was almost unbearable, making Nik’s cough more authentic than he would have liked it to be.

One person was with the dying. She glanced up from the person she was tending, and Nik barely recognized her defeated eyes and her flushed face as those of Emma, a young Healer apprentice.

“There’s no room for you here.” Emma spoke softly, as if she barely had the energy for words. “If you wait below, there will be a place open soon.”

Nik ducked his head and hunched his shoulders. He coughed again, long and wet, then in a whispery voice that he hoped sounded nothing like his own said, “No, I only want to sit with the Mother Plants. They are a comfort.”

Emma nodded wearily and made a weak gesture to the rear of the platform and a second series of stairs that wound upward to another, much smaller landing. “Go on. It’ll do the Mother Plants good to have company. Since Maeve was taken ill hardly anyone is tending them—though we’re lucky. They seem to be flourishing anyway.”