The deranged thoughts will swallow me and sink me into the snow. I must focus. I am almost there. It has been close, a mad old man wandering the plains alone. Warding off the goblins solitary and mad, half the time I fight what isn’t there. Not alone though, no, she is with me. She will be with me until my last breath. She knows my cargo is sacred. The future of our world lies in the vials I carry.

It will all end soon. Ah, to find peace at last. But not yet. No. There is still work I must do.

-Doc Vorran. The fifth lune since the poisoning.

OTHIN:

I pack the last bag to my zigon, such hairy animals. It is like an enormous ball of golden fluff with a noble face peeking out and large ridged horns rounding backwards. I stroke the long tendrils of hair behind the floppy ears. Her name is Guzu. I have a strong affection for this animal, but I tell that to no one. In her eyes I see trust and kindness shielded behind strength and fury, the same that I see in Talea.

Guzu has been my zigon since she was small. I have ridden her along the hills, through the brush of the forest, along the coast with aalamons chasing. Others would call me weakling. No moonrunner chooses one zigon as theirs alone, the animals are tools. But I can see Guzu amidst the others, I always know her and I always choose her.

I focus on my animal to distract from my worry. Talea insisted on meeting me at the rendezvous point instead of coming with me so I can accompany her. “I’m not a child Othin, I’ll be fine.” Stubborn woman. Obstinate, strong, fierce woman. Anything can happen to her, anyone can turn on her, my body itches to be done with this as quick as possible to get back to her. I need to protect her.

I whisper and project kindness. “It will be well Guzu. Be still.”

Guzu stops her swishing movements. She stills herself while I finish with the last latch to secure the supply harness. I pat her on the flank. “Good, we will join the others now. You will meet Talea.”

“What about me?” That voice, I know that voice, I hate it. I sigh with anger and irritation flooding from me.

I grit my teeth and try to wrest control of my fury, but it storms from me. “Rala.”

I let go of Guzu and turn around to see her. Rala shares my height, my build, my eyes, some say we are the same. We are not and never will be, not if I have any say in it. My body pulses with venom towards this sick creature.

Rala chuckles. Not a chuckle from happiness, but malevolent mischief. “Oh brother, why do you hate me so?”

I firm myself against her. She has a way of making me angry beyond control. I speak as calm as I can find, but I still growl. “Leave me Rala.”

She smiles and walks along Guzu tracing her long delicate fingers through the hair. “Now Othin, that is no way to treat your bloodling. We shared a womb. Does that count for nothing?”

I nod with narrow eyes. “Yes.”

Rala gives a throaty chuckle again, she’s trying to manipulate me. The same way she tries to influence everyone. No one else seems to see it, they are blinded somehow. But I see it. Rala is twisted, she was from birth, something is dark within her. She does not fight with strength and glory; she does not use stealth or sword. She uses words, confusing words that stir your thoughts up until you dance to her tune. Rala has a mind unlike any moonrunner, her thoughts run with the clarity of water. She sees more than we do, different than we do, and all she wishes for is to cause pain. Not kill, torture.

The twisted spirit smiles and lays a hand on my shoulder. “Othin, brother, will you ever let it go?”

In a flash it bursts to the front of my mind, anger in full force. I know what she is trying to do, I think. I cannot let her win. The storm within me, the rage and fury, it takes everything I have to be still. To not kill her where she stands. I have been tempted several times to take her to the arena. But I know she would have me down and bleeding in a matter of seconds. Knowing Rala, and seeing her previous challenges, it would take much longer to die.

She continues her taunting. “What? Father’s training has erased your passions? Is there nothing left?” She turns to walk away with a teasing wave. She spouts one last jab without caring to look back. “She was a weakling. A shame what happened.”

I lunge forwards and howl releasing a thundercloud of agony and wrath. “You killed her!”

My chest heaves with angry breaths and I release myself from the torments of control. I bolt to Rala and with a swift movement punch her square in the back. She falls forwards and sticks into the wet mud. I stand shaking, I want more. Kill. The need boils in my veins and throbs in my mind. My hand aches to wring the life from her and snap her in two.

She pulls herself upright, laughing. “No, you killed her.”

I shake with rage. I try to tell myself she is manipulating like she always does. She wants me to be angry. Rala’s games. Games I have never been able to escape.

I snarl. “I loved her.” I bite the last word off with a snarling hiss.

She pulls herself from the mud, her long fingers flick mud away. “I know brother. That is why I killed her.”

I flex my fingers testing my claws, my muscles shake as I turn my head away in jerky movements. “I was her protector.”

“You failed.” Rala keeps pressing. “She was making you weak and you know that.”

I turn the rest of my body; my legs feel heavy while I try to walk away. Images flash to my mind, seeing her enter the arena with tears of terror in her eyes. I remember her voice calling out to me between crying screams. It echoes in my mind. I remember the arms of the banes holding me as I tried to break free and save her. The powerlessness drowns me again.

My voice cracks with grief. “She was getting stronger. I was training her.”

The sinister voice hisses from behind me. “Like you have trained that halfmoon of yours?”

I shake my head whispering with pain and anguish drowning me. “You will not take this one from me.”

I pull myself up onto Guzu’s back and stroke the soft hair trying to calm the storm within. Rala, covered in mud, stands next to my enormous animal.

My enemy and sister stands with a grin on her face. “Hate me if you want. But you will need to accept me.” Her grin spreads into a wide mocking smile. “I am assigned to your pack. I will be accompanying you.”

I lose my breath, her words hit me like a stone to the chest. Rala is coming. No. Thoughts spin around my mind. No. She is one of the top hunters in the clan. She brings back large amounts of food and plenty of daypeople kills and pillaged caravans. She also has the most hate and brutality of any other in the clan.

Why would they assign her? This is to be a diplomatic mission, why would they send this creature? To protect us? Rala only fights for Rala, she is not an asset she is a threat. My first instinct is to charge into Leader Wikon’s tent and demand she be removed. I sigh, to question his decision would be foolish and lethal. I grit my teeth and tighten my grip on Guzu’s hair. I look down at her with tense frustration.

My words are cold with hatred. “Then I hope I get my boon from The Moon Mother. You will die on this journey and I will finally be rid of you.”

At the forefront of my mind I craft the image of Talea, the water to my fire to use her picture. She calms my storm. I need her now more than ever, Talea can tame me, she brings me back from the brink. Even though she herself suffers the same struggle.

I steer Guzu into action. Now more than ever I need to catch up with Talea. I need to see her eyes, feel her fingers on my arms, hear her voice. My entire body shivers with need, only she will calm me. I hear evil chuckling from behind me.

Rala’s final jab spits into the cool air. “You can try to protect her brother, you will fail.”

✽✽✽

LESEDI:

Shivers run through my body with anxiety making me shudder to my core. The tree limbs shake back and forth dusting us with snow. We wait on the outer edge of the looming forest. The trees are thick with old growth, but spaced far apart allowing the zigons to fit between them. Mammoth animals though they are, dangerous, and unstable, I’m filled with curiosity. They loom over us with so much enormity the nightstalkers have to climb up their fur to mount them. The only way we’re getting up there is with boosts from Othin. The thought makes me feel like a frustrated child.

Talea stands tall and alert, she strokes the golden hair of our beast while her eyes dart to every corner and every shadow around us. Othin will join us soon, he needed to get Guzu first. From the context of the conversation I assume it’s his own personal zigon. He speaks of it like a pet, I didn’t think nightstalkers form bonds with their animals. It’s most probably a secret, or maybe just Othin’s.

None of the rest of our party seem to have personal attachments to their zigons. They see them like tools and nothing more. Thrik stands beside us with arms crossed, he escorted us to the outer rim of the territory. A tall and foreboding nightstalker, of course, they all are. Thrik is especially tall, even by their standards. I feel like a toddling baby compared to him. I wonder to myself how he doesn’t break in half at his delicate waist with how bulky he is on top.

The disparity in physique intrigues me. It’s something I’ll need to continue observing. Thrik is the bane, the others don’t realize it and I won’t tell them. The presence of an enigmatic threat keeps them in check, to them it represents a fate worse than death.

An interesting culture they have, though savage it may be. It’s as if they yearn for a real society, they want to be immortalized in memory. Like any other being they need to feel as if their life has made a footprint on the world somehow. Death by a bane means erasure, once someone has been erased the clan is forbidden from ever speaking their name again, or even admitting they ever existed.

Their entire culture is predicated on an oral tradition of stories. To be part of those stories it to be a hero hoisted up in valor forever, to be forgotten is the utmost shame. Talea has told me colorful stories Othin has regaled her with about his ancestors. Each family continues its personal story as if each member is but a chapter. If you’re forgotten, you are removed from a story spanning hundreds of years.

It feels like there’s something inside them, something that wants to be better but it’s clouded by whatever it is that makes them so twisted. They were us once, evidence of it is clear in the subtle similarities. But I wonder if we ever could meld them into a peaceful society. They’re so dark and savage I don’t see how, I think Talea is naïve and overly optimistic. The most we can hope for is an end to the killing, which would still be an improbable accomplishment in of itself. Actual harmony though, despite the fact that they need it as much as us, is a statistical impossibility.

Thrik stands with his hands clasped behind his back, his face as cold as stone. No rage, no happiness, nothing. The precise dominion over his emotions is something only the banes have mastered. But, in his eyes I can see it lurking beneath the surface. Violent hunger. I don’t think they’re ever rid of that blood lust; I think all they can do is rise above it, which takes far more strength than any hunt.

I wonder what goes into making Wikon’s banes. How can he take the dark uncontrolled beasts and break them like they do the zigons? Thrik stands still in perfect unmoving posture while his alert predator eyes stare from beneath a shaded hood. His stone-gray chest reveals a long thick scar moving in a diagonal line across his upper body. Regardless of the method, of which I might not want to know, I can’t argue with Wikon’s results.

A shivering breath staggers from my lungs, the foggy air leaves my mouth in puffs and floats into the wind. I rub the cold from my hands trying to bring happier thoughts to mind as I see more nightstalkers joining us. A pair of females slink from the trees and approach, the way they move feels more like animals than a person. They’re fast and graceful, but their bodies bend and twist like a serpent when they move. It’s downright unsettling. As they get closer, I notice they’re twins, identicals. I’ve never seen a pair like this before, they’ve been mentioned in books but they’re so rare it borders on mythical.

Though their faces and bodies are clones of each other, it’s clear they try to express some form of individuality through aesthetic choices. One has thick cylindrical knots falling from her scalp, their tips touch her ribs, and look like the roots of a tree. The knots sway as she walks, but it’s fascinating to not see the normal swish of hair. She swaggers towards the group with arrogance forming a cloud around her. She wears a cropped leather vest that ends at the bottom of her rib cage, it seems to bind down what breasts she does have. A thick belt holds a row of throwing knives, they look like one solid piece of metal that narrows into sharp points at the end. What would have become pants instead end at the top of her thighs with lacing up the sides. Her outfit is designed for freedom of movement more than modesty.

I’ve never seen so much indecency in my life, she’s almost naked. My eyes drift to her large winding tattoo, it swoops from her shoulder and swallows her left side. Talea had wanted to get one of those but I managed to talk her out of it, there’s an artist hunkered in the south east banks that started a business giving them. There are rumors that he’s one of the banished from Thraz, but no one asks questions in order to avoid unpleasant answers.

Her red eyes gaze in my direction as she flashes a sickening smile and winds towards me. Her sister, although identical, feels more terrifying somehow. Her features feel more like the harsh gaze of an apex predator, even though they’re a copy of the other one. A scar mangles the skin of her scalp on the right side leaving it devoid of hair. The rest of her white hair swoops over her left side where it’s cut short at the chin. She wears the scar with pride. I stifle a gasp, she’s even more naked than her sister.

A wide band of black leather hugs her chest binding down her breasts. Lacing stretches along the sides with cord dangling from tied knots. With my eyes moving down in shock I see she’s wearing nothing more than a leather flap affixed to what appears to be a thin belt. More lacing stretches across gray hips to keep it in place. As far as I can see she wears no weapons, nor would she have space for them. Likely, she does not need any.

Try as I might to conceal it, the naked one’s smile broadens with how uncomfortable I am. The twins loom over me by a clear foot. On the petite end of the spectrum for nightstalkers, but still terrifying. They’re only a handspan taller than Talea. Light catches their red eyes and it looks like they’re glowing, I can’t help but shrink back in the face of these monsters.

The naked one doesn’t speak; her sister looks at her with a long pause then speaks to me with disdain. “Want the you protect? Weakling.” A growl rolls in her throat, she wants to kill me. They both do.

The naked one keeps a face of cold rage and shares a look with her sister. The two smile revealing mouths full of misshapen sharp teeth. The sister chuckles. “Want the we should kill the weakling.” The naked one nods. The two look at each other as the one with knotted hair keeps talking. “Da’ku want the make the kill? Want the should Viko?”

Peculiar. It’s like an extreme mesh of common tongue with twinspeak. From context I assume the naked one in black is Da’ku and Viko must be the one with knotted hair. I try to stand my ground, to look unafraid, to be bold. I try with desperation to be like Talea. I fail.

My sister, and rescuer, seems to fall from the sky. She lands with a graceful and quiet thump in the snow. With confident fury she stands tall and proud in front of me creating a barrier between the twins and myself. Though a handspan shorter, she carries an equal heft of intimidation. She’s changed in the past few months, this woman standing in front of me is not the hot-headed girl I’ve always known. She’s beginning to carry herself like a warrior. That scares me even more.

She stands her ground with unremitting strength of spirit. She stares right into their eyes, fists clenched to her side. “Leave my bloodling alone.”

Viko shudders with excitement, her eyes flare. “What the weakling has a strength?”

Talea looks away from Viko, she notes the dominant one in this partnership, Da’ku. She leans towards her, their noses almost touch as they glare at each other. Talea speaks slow, clear, and with dangerous venom. “Harm her and you both will die. Slowly.”

Viko shakes her head ande speaks while Da’ku maintains her hateful eye contact. “Strength should watch weakling.” They both turn around and walk away. As they step through the snow the pair begins laughing in a creepy high pitch. Viko screeches with joy. “Weakling going to die!”

Talea turns around to look at me, her eyes are a bright luminescent red. Her breathing is shallow and angry and blood trickles from her palms where her nails dug in. My stomach ties itself into a nauseating knot, she looks like a nightstalker in this moment. She looks like them. It’s more upsetting than encountering those psychopathic identicals.

My raging sister takes in a deep breath and lets it out slow. The red irises fade back to purple and a concerned smile comes to her face. “Are you ok?”

I nod speechless, I’m not ok. Not by a long shot, but I’m still here. Alive. That’s my bar for ok now. Talea pulls me into a tight hug and I can hear her breathing ragged as she rests control of her inner fury. I just do my best not to break down in tears. This is night one, hour one, of a journey that will take months. How are we going to do this? How is it even possible? My first confrontation, and not my last, and I crumble into a cowering child. Talea saved me, protected me, but can she keep this up for the entire trip?

I need to become stronger. I need to be courageous. I need to fight as hard as she does and find that power within me. We can’t be a dichotomy of fire and water anymore. We need to come together; we each need to be both. Talea pulls back and I can feel the guilt and worry in her, not to mention it being written all over her face. She’s thinking the same thing I am.

My sister takes a quick breath and forces a cheerier tone. “Don’t let them worry you. If they try anything our bane will take care of them. Whoever that is. In the meantime, why don-”

In a blur Talea disappears. A phantom leaps from the shadows and tackles her into the snow. A hunter’s scream pierces the air. They’ve come for her.

✽✽✽

TALEA:

Hissing, growling, screaming. Cold, wet, pain. Disorientation overwhelms me, my mind spins with confusion. The dark world of my vision tumbles upside down with a gray body attached to mine. It came from nowhere, I was talking to Lesedi, my guard was down. I remember one of Othin’s many lessons. Our walls do not come down. Like the walls of your cities.

I need to assess the threat and fight back before my enemy causes too much damage. I snap into action shrugging off the surprise and recall Othin’s training. I pull my arms tight to my body and push my strength into them thrusting two hands up into the gray abdomen. I hook my hands up under the ribs and push.

The attacker propels away and tumbles off into the snow. Hooting spirals into the air as I find the world above the white powder. I survey my surroundings noting the onlookers. The twins are perched on a zigon gawking, that’s where the screeching is coming from. Interesting, Daku can make sounds. Just not words? Not the time.

I focus my attention forward and ignore the fact that they are supposed to be protecting me. My opponent is female I think, though that doesn’t make much of a difference with nightstalkers. Her face is harsh like the others, her frame is wiry and thin, but her legs are muscled with power. They would be her strongest asset.

As the thought enters my brain the attacker jumps into the air and lands square on top of me. My body plows into the snow. She hits me like a steel hammer knocking the breath out of me. Pain shoots like lightening up to my brain feeling like it’ll pop my skull.

I roll out from under her, now sopping wet and aching all over. As I squirm away, she delivers a powerful kick into my back. I puff out every bit of breath from my lungs as pain explodes in every direction. This is taking too long. I have to act fast, every second I allow her to have the upper hand I get weaker and my chances of surviving drop. My face flashes with heat, a fire that burns through my entire body. I try to jump to my feet but before I can so much as flinch another kick powers into my stomach. I feel vomit climb to the top of my throat.

The kicking stops for a moment. She flips into the air over me and lands squatting, body parallel with the snow. Her red eyes glare into mine, and then I notice why her legs are so powerful. She’s missing a left arm. I gain a measure of respect for this unknown assailant. Something happened to her, not a challenge or she would be dead, an accident. Something took her arm from her. Instead of letting herself be weak, wallowing in self-pity, or clinging to another nightstalker to protect her, she fought. She trained her legs as an alternative way to protect herself. She didn’t take anything lying down, she got up, she fought.

She gloats and hisses. “Daypeople weak so much. Get up daypeople!”

I stand up fighting back the urge to vomit. As soon as I do, she delivers a high kick faster than I can blink to my face. I drop to the ground like a brick and throw up. My chest heaves and I cough. I spit blood from my split lips onto the muddied snow.

The taunting voice calls again. “Get up daypeople!”

I smile. She frowns with confusion. I don’t know her name, but she inspired me without knowing it. I will not take this lying down, I will not give up, I will not give in. I will find another way to fight, another way to keep going. I will win.

I slide my hand down unseen to the studded familiar ball always on my person. My fingers slide along the smooth leather of Lesedi’s gift and wiggle into the pouch on my side to grab my precious weapon. I stagger to my feet prepared for what she has planned this time. I see the flinch of her leg when it leaves the ground. In one swift movement I swing my arm bringing the ball into line with her powerful limb. We both hit the ground, a scream follows.

I look over to see blood oozing from her leg. I had used her strength against her. I can move fast too, so much so that she didn’t have the time to stop herself and rammed her knee into my meteor hammer. The flesh is broken and bloody, it could recover over time. Maybe. She attempts to stand but her leg falls out from under her. She glares at me with a hateful scowl.

“No good daypeople!” She hisses as she falls back into reddening snow.

I pull myself to my feet and hobble over to her. My eyes gaze down at the angry flailing nightstalker. She flounces in the snow trying to get up or crawl away, unable to do either. She’s as good as dead already. There’s only one way for this to end. Mercy is for loved ones and children, not for those trying to kill you. I step on her only arm, pinning it to the ground. I squat over her pushing down on her chest with my right hand and holding the bloody ball in my left.

Her body goes still. My chest heaves and I taste copper from my lips. My body screams with ache. I can feel the red in my eyes, the unyielding rage. It’s time to end this.

“Stop!” Lesedi cries out. “Talea don’t.”

I pause. The ball is poised above my head ready to be brought down into the broken woman’s skull. I glare at the nightstalker while speaking to Lesedi. “She tried to kill me Les.”

Lesedi’s imploring gains urgency. “I know Talea. But she didn’t. You won. It’s over.”

Da’ku and Viko howl with laughter in the background. Viko’s annoying voice giggles. “Want the weakling not the kill! Make the strength go weak!” Da’ku throws her head back in a half scream half laugh with her sister.

As much as it pains my sister, this is the only way. She won’t survive if I let her go. She can’t come back from this. A bane will dispose of her. Stupid moonrunner! Why? Why did she have to do something so stupid?

I take a deep breath and keep my weapon ready. “There is a bane among us. Did you know that?”

Her eyes take on a widened expression of horror. She shakes her head and her eyes begin watering.

I speak with the calm collection I learned from Lesedi. “You didn’t know. You thought you’d kill me and be gone before someone saw. But a bane has seen you violate the highest law.”

Her voice comes out in a choking whisper. “No, no bane kill. Please.”

She’s worked hard through her life, harder than most have to. She’s undoubtedly a warrior of distinction and has won her fair share of challenges. Many nightstalkers wouldn’t be able to resist what they would think is an easy kill against someone with one arm. With a bane kill all of that goes away, even her family forgets her. Everything.

My voice is cold but compassionate. “Name yourself.”

Her response is slow and gulping. “Nor’shu.”

I nod with respectful solemnity. “I will remember you Nor’shu. You were a fierce opponent and fought well. As far as anyone will know, this was a fair challenge. We will keep your actions a secret.”

Nor’shu smiles with gratitude and braces herself. In consideration for her, I drop the meteor hammer. I pull the knife from my belt and with one blow ram the blade up into the soft tissue behind her chin. No choking, no flinching, only death. It’s the best one I can give her.

I pull the bloodied knife back and wipe it in the snow. I holster my weapons and stand to face the pack. My thoughts clatter in my head. This wasn’t my first kill and it won’t be my last. But I can feel myself change in this moment. This feels different somehow. I can feel a part of me being trampled down by something else within me. Lesedi’s face goes stone cold but her eyes are heartbroken. I’m different to her now, forever changed in her eyes. She knows I’ve killed, but now she’s seen it.

I step away from Nor’shu’s body. I stand tall and bellow my voice to everyone watching. “This was a fair challenge. Although not in the arena I expect it to be treated as one. Is that clear?” I see head nods; they know it’s not true but they’ll let it go. In particular, the bane, whoever it is, won’t retaliate.

I hear some whispers float in the air and decide to elaborate further. I turn to face Viko and Daku. “I am blood bane. This is my mission. Anyone who dare harm me will die. Anyone who harms my sister will die slow.”

Somehow on command I push my rage forwards and flash the red of my eyes. I can feel the heat of it in my eye sockets. I can feel the pack tense up; I feel the respect grow. Maybe not respect so much as realization that I’m a threat. It’s pretty much the same thing to them.

I let the reds fade and with them goes the last of my vigor. Like a wall hitting me I become aware in an instant how exhausted and broken I am. Lesedi makes a move towards me, her frightened eyes misting with tears. I shake my head and gesture towards the zigon. Not now. I can’t have her clamoring all over me, it’ll tear down what I just built. We need to appear strong. I need to appear strong. It’s the only way we’ll stay alive.

My body screams with pain, I’m bleeding and bruised. With eyes watching I stifle the pain and pull myself up the hair of my zigon. My injuries sear while I use my destroyed muscles in defiance. Wanting to vomit more I roll myself out along the beast’s back.

Lesedi runs in a frenzy away from our zigon. I roll my head to the side and in the distance, I spot Othin riding Guzu. He’s arrived. I let out a breath of relief while a smug smile creeps to my face. I was right, I can handle myself. I almost got killed, but I didn’t. He won’t want to let me out of his sight ever again, but I don’t think he’ll have a choice.

✽✽✽

A cold breeze whips against my cheeks, they’re flushed from chill. I open my non-bruised right eye but my left stays swollen shut. It’s still dark out and feels like high-night. We should be halfway to the meeting point for Alaric. The plan is to camp there through the day, that should give them enough time to reach us by nightfall. My nerves make my stomach flutter, it’s such a risky plan. I can’t even believe they agreed to it.

I crane my neck to look around. Lesedi flinches and reaches past my field of vision. She shrieks through tears. “Othin! Othin she’s waking up!”

I close my eyes again; they feel so heavy. My mind feels muddled and thick. Like there’s a dense fog in my skull I can’t shake out. I force open my eyes again and see a familiar face, Othin. His hair falls around his shoulders stringy and wet, he still keeps the top half of it pulled back per my suggestion. It does make him look more dignified, not to mention handsome, to me. His eyes look me up and down with a burning intensity, he feels like he’s panicking.

I sigh with a smile. “Hey there stranger.”

He grins and frowns at the same time. While he speaks his voice cracks with worry. “Talea I am sorry. I should have been there. I should have-”

I reach up and pinch his thin lips shut. “I made you go away remember?”

He lets out a frustrated breath. “Why?”

I attempt to sit up and pain flares through my body. Before I can lift myself a handspan I collapse back down. This time into Othin’s lap.

His otherwise deep voice raises a pitch. “Do you hurt?”

I groan. “Yeah. Like I got the suns kicked out of me by a crazy nightstalker.”

He nods. “Nor’shu. She is a dangerous fighter. She has won many challenges.”

I shift a little and groan again as my body rebels against any movement. “Yeah I hadn’t noticed.”

He frowns. His voice loses its high-pitched quality. “You worried me Talea.”

I smirk. “You don’t say.” He responds with a silent glare and my smirk falls away. “I know you worry about me. It’s sweet, kind of annoying, but sweet. But you know what we’re up against now. I have to look strong for this pack. If I don’t-”

He sighs. “I know. They could turn on you. Or Lesedi. The bane’s presence helps, but it will not be enough.” I nod. “But we can be strong together. You have a word for that, a team. We must be a team Talea.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Growth. “I know. I’ll try.” He looks at me with an eyebrow raised. Right. To nightstalkers trying means nothing. “Not try. I will.”

He nods and lays a soft kiss on my forehead. “I am happy you lived. Happier that you won.”

Lesedi comes into view and pulls something heavy off my swollen eye. Ah, that’s why I couldn’t open it. It does feel better. I start poking at the flesh as Lesedi smacks my hand away. “Nor’shu was formidable. But those twins are what we need to worry about.”

Othin glances over and my eyes move in the same direction. To our right are the identicals, those scary twins. Unpredictable and insane even by nightstalker standards. Da’ku sits staring across at us, the moonlight reflects off so much of her exposed body. Viko, who is leading their zigon, is standing on her hands gripping the thick muscled hide and cackling. Lesedi shudders.

Othin nods. “Yes. Dangerous. Same ones born with stillborn male.”

Lesedi digs around in her bag. “Same ones? Identical twins, right? Why was the sibling stillborn?”

Othin pushes a group of stray hairs from his eyes. The ends begin to curl slightly as it dries. He looks over his shoulder to check the path of our zigon, he thumps Guzu on the side of her head and she responds by correcting course. Interesting that he doesn’t have to put as much sustained focus into guiding her like the others do.

He turns back and averts his eyes. “They killed him.”

Lesedi’s eyes shoot open wide. “In the womb?!”

Othin nods. Lesedi shakes her head with disbelief. “How-That’s not possible. They can’t-”

“Kicked to death before the bearing.” Othin looks down at me and rests his hands on my ribs. His long fingers drape across my vest. “Same ones are rare. Dangerous. They act with one mind. Any not a part of that mind is a threat to them.”

I wince and move to sit up despite Lesedi’s objections. “Is that why Da’ku doesn’t talk?”

He nods. “Viko speaks. Da’ku thinks.”

Lesedi rubs her chin in thought. “It must be a telepathic link. There’s been a lot of speculation on that. Twins tend to have strong psychological bonds. There have only been a handful of documented cases of identicals. In each case there’s an intense link between them, such as being able to feel the other one’s feelings.”

“Like how you talk.” I join in happy to understand something.

Lesedi frowns. “What?”

I tap Othin’s arm. “The nightstalkers don’t use words. They talk to each other in feelings and pictures they put in each other’s minds. It’s hard to explain.”

Her eyes light up with that same twinkle when she learns something new. “Of course! Nightstalkers have a limited capacity for speech. Especially a thousand years ago. But their brains must have greater empathic abilities, perhaps an extension upon our life sense. In addition to feeling the presence of others they can also feel their feelings and even project entire ideas.” She pulls out a book and begins writing. “If skysinger identicals gain empathic abilities, then nightstalkers who already have those abilities must take it a step farther. It’s probable that nightstalker identicals could form a kind of hive mind-” She trails off into muttering and scribbling in her book.

I smile and shake my head glancing at Othin. “That’s Lesedi speak for yes, two people one mind. She agrees with you. I think.”

We look over to steal glances at the mad twins. Viko drops from her handstand and leaps off the zigon catapulting into the air. Before she hits the snow Da’ku reaches out, grabs her arms, and swings her back into place. They do it again, but switch places, like it’s some sort of game. They cartwheel around the speeding beast with perfect synchronization. One mind. Two bodies. We’ll need to keep an eye on them.

Through great effort I pull myself from Othin’s lap and slump against his side. Progress. I unclasp my vest and peek down my tunic to see my entire pale torso turning purple and yellow with bruises. Lesedi says it’s a miracle all I have is a mild concussion. Blame it on the nightstalker blood I guess, we all know how hard they are to kill. Unless you put a blade in the right place, I guess.

Othin lifts his long arm and wraps it around me in reflex, we’ve spent so many nights curled up in a tree looking at these same stars. Tonight, it feels different though, ominous in a way. I can’t help but feel like his arms will get ripped away from me and I’ll look at these stars alone. It’s a thought that chills me to the bones, more so than the icy air.

I look around at the expanse of snowy hills surrounding us. White spreads as far as we can see under the velvet sky. It’s not black like I always imagined it would be. It’s more like the darkest blue can be, without being black. Ribbons of purple and lighter blue bend in the sky like ink in water. There’s even a subtle hint of pink among the billowing colors. Then of course, there’s the stars. An uncountable number of white dots that sweep across the sky like someone spilled a bag of broken glass.

I speak with awe in my voice. “That’s a sight I’ll never get used to.”

The crowning jewel is high above the horizon, the big beautiful blue moon. Lesedi’s neck cranes upwards to look at the hypnotic scene. We start seeing pictures in the lights. For a while our troubles fall away and we giggle as we see stars in the shape of fruit, people dancing, even a kiri. For this moment, and probably only this moment, nothing lies beyond our zigon under our big beautiful sky.

I can imagine what all this will look like during the warm season. When the moon grass glows and all the plants are in full bloom. It will be like the stars in the sky, but all around us. A painful thought hits me: If we live that long. The warm season is three months away. I gulp when I think about all the bruises covering my body, this is night one. What will happen between now and three months from now?

Lesedi’s voice breaks my troubling thoughts. “I read about stars. But, but-”

I smile. “But it’s nothing like the real thing.”

Another reverent nod. Lesedi can’t fight the smile on her face. Her voice is quiet and detached. “I can’t believe that something so beautiful can exist. Not here.”

I frown. “What does that mean?”

She shrugs. “I mean here. Zaran.”

My frown deepens. “Where else would it be?”

Lesedi leans back on her hands to see as much of the sky as possible. “There are theories. Theories that other people live out there.”

I laugh. “Like the void? I thought you didn’t believe in demons and monsters and all that religious stuff. My sister the heretic right?”

She pulls her eyes away from the stars to glare at me. “I’m not a heretic, much as Trigan jokes about it. I just think that the reality of what happened too long ago for anyone to remember was exaggerated into an absurd mythos.” She holds up her finger to keep me from interrupting. “But I’ve digressed. My point is, we have evidence via ancient logs that our ancestors had enemies, but also that we had a society of pacifists. If true, from where would enemies come? The only logical reason is somewhere beyond our world.”

I shake my head. “That’s never made sense to me. How could our ancestors be pacifist? That means they wouldn’t defend themselves. They’d die.”

Lesedi’s voice slants into that tone she always uses. The voice of a teacher, philosopher, and scientist. “Defend themselves against whom? Pacifism works if everyone chooses it.”

I scoff. “No, I can’t picture it. Everything we know kills. Even the plants.”

My sister’s voice softens but retains its cold quality. “Not all the plants. Though many animals are territorial and dangerous, only one is a true predator. Look at how beautiful everything is. Doesn’t it feel like this is a world meant for peace?”

I smirk and shake my head. “I feel that you’re delusional.”

She glares at me. “How can you be on a mission for peace when you yourself don’t believe in it?”

I shrug. “I believe in getting everybody to stop killing each other by killing someone else. That’s a far cry from peace.”

The softness leaves her voice. All that’s left is ice. “When the Razor Bones are dead and gone, and our common enemy destroyed, what then? Without a belief in peace how will we keep from reverting back to who we were?”

I squint my eyes in thought, she always has to ask the hard questions. “I was kind of hoping you could help me figure that out. You’re the diplomat.”

She purses her lips as they move into a contemplative smile. “That I am. But what if you didn’t have me? What if it was left to you?”

I shake my head with a laugh. “Ridiculous. I’ll always have you.”

She shrugs. “Perhaps.”