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And if he had the tufts of fur on arms and legs, Shadow Cat.
To have all of them…only the ancestors would. They are traits passed on to the clans by the ancestors. And the ancestors died long ago, just like the original sakh that took a sheep to this world.
But I do not think R’slind is lying. She is frightened and exhausted, but she is clever. She would notice the features of her captor.
A scent brushes my nose—of mushrooms and other—and the tone of my khui changes as my protectiveness rises. Now I shall see for myself who this stranger is that holds us captive in this cave. I carefully set R’slind to the ground and then get to my feet, looming over her protectively. I step in front of her and camouflage myself, changing my colors to match the shadows of the cave as footsteps approach.
R’slind gasps behind me, and I feel one finger poke my leg, as if she is testing my skin. “What the fuck,” she breathes. “You didn’t tell me about this.”
“Stay behind me.” I stand tall, ready to defend my mate, and my tail swishes with anger. I glare as our captor emerges from the shadows and approaches the grid of bars that keeps us trapped in this cave.
The breath dies in my throat.
It is true.
I am looking at an ancestor. He has the traits of all four clans, with horns exactly like mine, plus strong, blunted features that are foreign to us. His body is covered in grayish fur like Gren and his eyes are large and tilted, his ears tipped with points. He wears a bright gold loincloth made of the same fabric that R’slind wears.
He eyes me warily, seeing right through my camouflage. His own color ripples, as if daring me to shift to my normal shade. We stare at each other.
I decide to speak first. “Who are you, stranger?”
The ancestor watches me with narrowed eyes. If he can understand me, he makes no show of it. Instead, his gaze drops to my chest, to where I continuously rumble with resonance. “I hope that is not for me.”
A sense of humor. Unexpected. I rub my chest and step deliberately in front of R’slind again.
The male eyes me, noticing my protective stance. “Yours?”
I nod.
“You can understand me?” The ancestor watches me closely.
“I can—do you understand my words?”
The male tilts his chin and then shakes his head slowly. “Your words are gibberish to me. Tell me your name then, stranger.”
I tap my chest. “R’jaal.”
His eyes narrow as he takes me in. “A brief name. Are you not honored amongst your people?”
I tap my chest again and give him more, since he seems to want more. “R’jaal of Tall Horn.”
The stranger grunts with approval. He gestures at himself. “I am Set’nef the Wanderer.”
I turn and indicate R’slind. “This is—”
“No,” Set’nef says before I can finish. “I do not want to know her name. She is cursed.”
That makes me pause. “Cursed?”
“How am I cursed?” R’slind whispers behind me, her voice a mere squeak. I feel her hand clutch at my leg.
“R’slind,” I say to Set’nef, gesturing at my female. “Not cursed.”
“I sense what you are asking,” Set’nef continues. He shakes his head. “It is a disaster to resonate to a cursed one, but my people have seen this before. The ones with the dead eyes are bad luck. They stole my ancestors away and ate their spirits, and they will do the same to you.” He steps forward and holds out a pouch to me. “I must keep you in this cell until my chief decides you are safe. I do not mean you harm. This food is for you, not her, but I suspect you will share it with her anyhow.”
I take a step forward and touch the bars, indicating that I want out.
Again, Set’nef shakes his head. “My chief must be the one to decide. You could have the khui sickness. The food will keep you and there is water in your cell already.” He grabs a woven basket on the far side of the bars and holds it out to me. “For your waste.”
I am puzzled—he does not seem like the enemy with his words, but I also do not like how he is dismissive of R’slind. Nor will he let us out. I take the food and the basket and set them down. He turns to leave, and I call for him again. “Set’nef!”
Set’nef turns to look at me again.
“Did you find others with me?” I grab a piece of my mane and try to curl it into a ringlet like T’ia’s. “A female?” I gesture to indicate teats and then ripple my camouflage to match the soft brown of T’ia’s skin.
He stares at me for a long moment. “If you are asking about a female with a coiling mane, yes. She was taken as well, since you were both trespassing on sacred grounds. No others were taken. Our hunting party returned to snatch them but they were gone. Only you and the female are here.”
