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His eyes widened as if my question made no sense. “Because Runa commanded you were to be tended to by a healer and kept safe until she returned.” He peered at my temple and jaw. “And judging by the fact that you’re no longer bleeding, and the swelling seems to have vanished, Olish did a good job.”
“You expect me to believe the Nhil suddenly do whatever Runa tells them to do? She’s an outsider. Same as me.”
“She was an outsider.” He sniffed. “Now, she’s as important to us as our chief, chiefess, and Spirit Master.” His voice hardened. “We’ve done as she asked and will continue to do as she asks, but not if you don’t listen. So I suggest you sit down, eat some roasted cattails, and wait...just like the rest of us are doing.”
I crossed my arms, feeding off his temper, trying to keep mine in check. “I’m grateful for the care, but I won’t take orders from you. Your hunters struck me. Kivva—”
“Is dead,” Leca snapped, crossing his arms with the first sign of his dislike. “Your wolf ripped out his throat.”
I reared back.
I didn’t know what to say.
I had no memory of that or how I’d ended up here.
“Other members of our clan are hurt as well,” Leca continued, his voice strained. “Six had to be treated by our healers, thanks to your wolves biting them, and one might not make it to see another sunset, so forgive me if I don’t have the patience to deal with your demands. Sit down and don’t do anything that will require me to bind you. Runa is safe and doing what she can to restore balance within our clan. Balance that you upset by taking her away in the first place!”
Leca suddenly moved, stalking toward the entrance.
Zetas lowered her head, tracking his every step, her eyes missing nothing as he grabbed a shallow bone bowl and used it to scoop up some water from a barrel in the shadows.
He drank deeply, droplets dripping off his chin.
My own thirst struck me with the same pain as it had when I’d woken in Salak’s cave, followed by crushing hunger.
But I ignored both of those urges, just as I ignored the urge to growl back. To wrap him in ropes so he wasn’t in the way of me finding Runa.
A sharp lance shot through my temple.
I shook my head, trying to shake away the ache of so many things—so many happenings.
The moment I’d woken to my name on her lips, I’d felt something that transcended everything I thought I was.
Hearing her say my name had felt like home.
Darro.
So strange that I’d forgotten it. So odd that, now I remembered it, I could scarcely imagine forgetting it.
A moth flittered into the lupic, defying the sunshine from outside and floating down from the hole in the roof. The hair on my nape prickled as the white-winged, black-banded creature flew straight to my ear. Its feelers tickled as the quietest whisper filled my mind.
“You will have to make a choice soon.”
I tripped sideways, bumping against Zetas, who let out a warning grumble. I glared at the moth as it hovered in the sky with effortless wingbeats. I shot a look at Leca, who still drank his fill on the other side of the dwelling.
“Darro.”
My eyes snapped back to the moth. I daren’t whisper in case the Nhil hunter figured I was insane as well as a threat. Balling my hands, I formed a silent question. “How are you here? You aren’t real.”
It danced and parried. “I am real while you are real. Your name is me, and I am you. There cannot be one without the other.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off the night insect, awed as silver dusting from its white wings shimmered in the sunlight. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I am here because you have remembered. One thing will lead to all things, and soon, you will know everything.”
Another gust of chills scattered down my spine.
The moth swooped forward, flitting by my ear again. “Two ends you have visited and two awakenings you have endured. A third will make you whole.”
“What will make me—”
“What’s that bug doing in here?” Leca swiped his mouth from droplets and pointed at the moth. “They chew our furs and leave holes in our lupics.” Leca stormed forward, fixated on the moth. “Don’t just stand there. Kill it.”
My heart stopped as he raised his hand, intending to crush the night-butterfly. Only...he missed.
The moth vanished.
Leca scowled and lowered his hand. His forehead furrowed as he spun on the spot, searching for it. Leca turned back to face me, his attention falling on Zetas.
She bared her fangs at him.
She wasn’t as big as Salak, but her nose still hit chest level, her horns reaching Leca’s chin.
They glowered at each other before Leca grumbled something under his breath and returned to the other side of the lupic. He grabbed a woven basket full of bark-stripped sticks, selecting one with careful consideration.
