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I watched the Nhil hunter for as long as my patience would allow.
I studied his home and took note of the hundreds of carvings littering the circular space. Small and large carvings, intricate and rudimentary. Some of mortals and others of animals with an entire pile of whittled bison in the corner by a pile of animal skins waiting for a purpose.
He either had way too much time on his hands or didn’t know how to sit still.
Resting against the wall closest to the exit was a basket of spears. The smooth tallow-polished staffs and sharp fire-hardened points caught my attention.
He might be willing to be patient and trade Runa into the fire to bring their Spirit Master back, but I wasn’t.
I wouldn’t sit quietly while she put her life into the hands of a malicious element, and I wouldn’t permit the Nhil to bind me in ropes.
Sucking in a breath, I marched toward the spear basket, snatched up the closest weapon, and broke into a run. Pushing aside the fur flap of the entrance, I darted outside.
Zetas flew beside me, a streak of silver and gold.
“Wait, don’t—!” Leca’s curse chased us as we bolted into the sunshine.
Chapter Thirty-One
. Runa .
A FEW HOURS EARLIER
I ONLY MANAGED TO CATCH a glimpse of the sunrise as we trudged wearily into camp. Tiredness weighed heavily on my shoulders, and worry filled my bones every time I looked at Darro on the travois.
He hadn’t opened his eyes the entire journey across the grasslands. His head wound kept him as silent and as still as the dead.
My heart ached as men and women dashed forward, some rubbing sleep from their eyes and others jittery and tense from waiting up all night for their hunters to return. The large central fire smouldered while the cylindrical lupics caught the first spiels of sunrise, crowned with halos of honeyed-pink.
We pushed forward, some hunters drifting off to their own homes while others helped the injured find a healer’s help. A few stragglers headed toward the fire, ready to worship the flames and thank them for their safe return.
The males carrying Darro headed toward Olish’s lupic on the other side of the clearing.
I followed.
A kind but firm hand landed on my shoulder, pulling me back.
Blinking away the trance of walking, I focused on the chiefess, Tiptu. The skin around her eyes had deepened into tracks full of concern, while the silver in her black hair seemed less like decoration and more like weariness. “You’re back. Thank the fire.”
Darro was carried farther away; I struggled to follow. Natim wriggled in my arms as Zetas padded beside Darro, slinking where I wanted to go, flicking me a glance over her furred shoulder with glowing yellow eyes.
“Please...let me go. I-I have to go with him.”
Tiptu shook her head, her hair loose and thick around her shoulders. Her scorpion spirit mark seemed to shift on her forearm as she released me, its venomous tail a threat in my exhausted, worried eyes.
She parked herself in my way. “Not yet. Solin needs you more than he does.”
A weary Tral appeared by my side just as Niya and Hyath dashed through the dawn, their bare feet kicking up dust from the dried earth, their hair equally as loose, almost as if the past few days of waiting for Solin to wake up meant their braids couldn’t withstand the constant stress-induced finger tugging.
“Girl!” Hyath gasped.
“You’re back!” Niya wrapped me up in an embrace while Hyath kissed my cheek. “We were so worried!”
Syn grunted a hello, winding herself around Niya’s legs as my friend’s gaze fell on the fawn in my arms. Niya’s face instantly softened into love. “You’re back but not alone.” She stroked Natim’s tiny head. “Where did you find her?”
Her question roused me enough to shed off the night of walking. “It’s a stag. His name is Natim.”
Natim bleated, his ears twitching at his name. His black-gloss eyes locked on Zetas as the wolf stayed close to Darro, moving toward Olish’s lupic in the distance. A few males tried to stop her from going inside, but Zetas snarled, her warning ripping around the camp, freezing the milling members who had watched the predator’s journey with open-mouthed shock.
The men gave up and dashed inside, followed swiftly by the wolf.
Murmurs broke out around the camp, no doubt discussing the unbelievable occurrence of a wolf padding through their home as if she belonged. A few males clutched at their waists where short clubs hung on belts made of knotted leather, and a couple of women gathered, handing out spears and stone hurlers.
My heart skipped a painful beat. “Please tell your people that Zetas isn’t to be harmed.” I looked at Tral in panic. “You said she’d be safe.”
“They’re your people now too,” Tral murmured. “But I will. And she will be.” His chest rose with determination. “I’ll call a quick gathering and tell everyone what’s going on. They’ll accept the wolf and the deer just as surely as they accepted the lynx. And they’ll accept the foreigner. He can stay here for however long he wishes.”
