Page 60 of Sun Warrior

“I do!” Sora said, then added, “And I haven’t even had to be Moon Woman to an entire Clan yet. It’s exhausting and stressful, and it’s just stupid that something of such importance has been left to one isolated woman. Leda died. You know what happened to our men afterward when neither Mari nor I was able to Wash them.” She pulled aside her tunic so that the purpled bruises and inflamed bite marks that covered much of her body were visible to the Clan. “This is what happens when there is only one Moon Woman for a Clan and she dies. I, for one, am going to do everything I can to be sure this never happens to any of you.”

“I agree with Sora. And you all should know that any girl child with gray eyes who chooses to go into Moon Woman training will be accepted by Sora and me,” Mari said.

“That’s right. Even though we know only a small number of us can actually draw down the moon and Wash the Clan, we don’t know how many of us might have a talent for healing,” Sora said.

“Or record keeping,” Mari added. “Or counseling. We should all use our strengths together, for the good of everyone.All of us.” Her gesture took in the Clan and the Companions. She wanted to continue—to tell the Clan that they would be stronger, better, more able to survive if they accepted Nik and his friends into the Clan—or at least accepted their new Pack as permanent allies of the Clan—but she could see that her people had taken in enough for one day and she worried that if she pushed any harder just then she would be pushing them past the breaking point. “But there will be time to speak of these things and plan a new path for the Clan. Tonight, I see your Moon Woman—one of them—has already Washed the Clan.” She grinned at Sora, who tossed her thick hair and dimpled in return.

“I have, so what’s left to you, Moon Woman, on this Beltane night is to lead us in the Weaving Dance,” Sora said.

Mari felt a thrill of excitement and nervousness.The Weaving Dance!She knew the dance—had known it since she was a child. She and Leda had practiced it together, dancing around the Earth Mother idol above their burrow every Beltane after Leda had returned from the Clan Gathering. But Mari had only danced it with the Clan once, and that was when she’d known just over six winters—before the filigree sun pattern had begun lifting from under her skin, leaving no doubt that her father had been a Companion and that she must hide that secret from the Clan.

Now Mari stood before what was left of her mama’s Clan as her true self, and she felt as if her body wasn’t big enough to contain the sense of freedom not having to hide brought her.

“Mari, everyone’s waiting for you to start,” Sora whispered to her.

“Oh, of course,” Mari whispered back. She sent Nik and the other Companions a look. “You’ll want to step out of the circle. It’s going to get pretty crowded in here once we start.”

Nik looked bemused, but he led the others to join Sheena, O’Bryan, and the wounded girls at the edge of the circle near one of the campfires.

Mari looked down to see Rigel had remained beside her, his tongue lolling in a canine grin. She almost told him to go to Laru—to stay out of the way—but she suddenly realized that she was setting a new precedent. If she sent Rigel away from her, even just to the outskirts of the circle, it would be like sending part of her soul to stand on the sidelines, to be an observer instead of a participant in Clan life.

No. I’ll never do that to you. Ever.

“Stay close, sweet boy. We’re going to dance!” she told him.

Then Mari stepped forward and raised her arms high over her head, as if she were reaching for the moon. Rigel moved with her, his warm shoulder touching the side of her leg. She drew a deep breath and shut her eyes, closing out the watching crowd and focusing on the joy her mama would have felt had she been there to see her dream of her daughter leading the Clan in celebration come true.

In a clear, strong voice Mari began the song, singing the melody by herself, as custom demanded:

“Weave with me, Clan, a dance in the night, always Moon Woman’s delight.

Show me your joy, Washed free of all spite, mystical magick Third Night.”

As the Clan joined in with drums and flutes and harmonizing voices, Mari began the intricate steps of the dance, and the Clanswomen who were not too injured or too tired followed her. Rigel stayed by her side, moving with her, as if they were sharing the steps. The dance wasn’t regimented, though there were steps they all knew. The women wove a sinuous pattern within the circle with an earthy grace that mirrored the rhythm of water over river stones. Flowing through the movements of the Beltane dance, Mari forgot her nerves. She forgot everything—except Nik. As she danced, weaving between Clanswomen through and around the circle, she felt his gaze on her as surely as she felt Rigel’s warmth near her side, and for the first time in her life Mari believed she was beautiful.

“Over the river, over the grove,

Followed from dusk to dawn.

Never I’ll stray, always I’ll stay,

Sweet Washing downward drawn.”

When they came to the second chorus, Mari heard Nik’s strong baritone harmonizing with the Clanswomen, and the burst of joy that surged through her made her feel as if her feet were hardly touching the ground.

“Oh, weave with me, Clan, a dance in the night, always Moon Woman’s delight.

Show me your joy, Washed free of all spite, mystical magick Third Night!

Harvest will come, Harvest will go,

Always from dusk to dawn.

Bountiful night, Washed in moonlight,

Fear and tears gently gone.”

By the third chorus, Davis and O’Bryan, Sheena and Rose, as well as Antreas, had joined the song. Mari twirled and wove between the Clanswomen, and their happiness lifted all around her. Mari soaked in the miracle of this Beltane moment and, if just for a short breath of time, she shed fears and worries and doubts about their future.