Chanter said, "Go to sleep, Talsy."
Her eyes burnt with tears of mortification. He did not find her attractive. She was just a smelly Trueman girl, not clean and pure like him. She closed her eyes, pretending she had not expected anything else, and rested her cheek on his chest. Within a few minutes, sleep washed her away on midnight waves.
As soon as the girl slept, Chanter moved away, covering her with a fur. The warmth he had given her would stay with her for a while, perhaps all night. He backed out of the tent, almost tripping over one of the silly strings that held it up. The relief of escaping Dolana's drain was immense. Mujar could not lie on the ground like Lowmen. Not for long, anyway. Of course, the little innocent in the tent did not know that.
Chanter contemplated the bargain he had made with her. The food she had provided was good, but he did not need the tent or the slow pace. Then again, he was in no hurry. Her offer of comforts was not the reason he had accepted clan bond with her. It had been the desperation with which she had begged for it. He had never known a Lowman to beg, or to look at him with such respect and admiration. Even his clan had treated him as a servant.
Chanter sat on a rock beside the dying fire and remembered his life with the clan. They had not asked much of him, only an occasional trip into the cesspit and digging graves for their dead. Since the shaman had forbidden him to use the Powers, he sometimes wondered why they let him stay. He had had a hut, hot food and even an occasional mug of beer. The food had filled the empty void of his belly, and, although he did not need it, it was a comfort.
The hut had kept off the rain, but he had not needed that either. He sometimes wondered why he longed for things he did not need, but there was no answer to that question. The bed was the best thing the clan had given him, a wooden platform on which he could lie without Dolana's drain. Mujar did not need to sleep, but they could if they wished.
A distant howl drifted on the wind, and he smiled. The wolves were hunting.
Chapter Four
Talsy woke shivering, and realised that she was alone. Silver moonlight shone in through the tent flap. She pulled her coat close and crawled outside. Cold ashes filled the fire pit, and Chanter was gone. Fear sent icy tendrils to chill her heart. Had he left her alone in the forest with wolves and dire bears? Her father's words of warning echoed in her mind as she scanned the frozen landscape for a sign that he was out there, relieving himself on a tree perhaps. The cold tent told her that he had been gone for some time. Her breath steamed before her face in the still, crisp night air as she searched the moonlit landscape.
An owl hooted nearby, making her jump. The stillness closed in behind the sound, pressing on her ears. He could not have left her. He would not. A wolf howled close by, the mournful sound sharp in the hush, making her nerves jangle like twanged strings. Panic gripped her, and she fumbled amongst her belongings for her hunting bow. The small arrows would not be much use against wolves, but they might be a deterrent. She needed fire. Tears of terror and self-pity stung her eyes. Chanter had promised to protect her. It had been her Wish. Surely a Mujar would not break a Wish? The wolf howled again, closer, and dread twisted her innards with icy talons. Mujar did not care.
The wolves were coming, and her only chance of survival was the Mujar who had abandoned her. The trees in the vicinity were too straight and slippery to climb. A flitting lupine shape caught her eye amongst the trees, and she notched an arrow.
"Chanter!"
Her scream tore the night's hush like the cry of a dying hare, high and despairing. It did not matter how much noise she made now, the wolves had her scent.
"Chanter!"
A black wolf loped towards her from the trees. She stepped back, tripped over a rock, and took aim as she stumbled. The arrow flew straight and true with a savage hiss, burying itself in the wolf's chest. The animal leapt sideways and collapsed. It lay still only for a moment, then rose to its feet as she notched another arrow. Vaguely, she noticed that it was a magnificent animal, pitch black with a silver ruff and ice-blue eyes. The world froze. Silence clamped down like a giant hand, and the air seemed to solidify in her lungs. She was paralysed, unable to breathe or move. Then it vanished and she gasped, sobbing as she finished notching the arrow with desperate haste.
The black wolf was gone, and Chanter stood there, an arrow protruding from his chest. He pulled it out, a trickle of blood running from the wound. White teeth flashed as he forced a smile. "You call me, then shoot me when I come?"
Talsy dropped the bow and ran to fling her arms around his neck and cling to him. "There was a wolf!"
"A big black one?"
She nodded, her cheek pressed to his chest. "Yes!"
"So you shot it."
"Yes."
"And why do you think I had an arrow in my chest a moment ago?"
She pulled away to look up at him. "You… that was you?"
Chanter nodded. "I'm afraid so."
"Oh… god." Her knees buckled and she sank down, clinging to his legs. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was you…" A flood of tears choked off her words. Now he would leave, for she had done the unforgivable. "Please forgive me!" she wailed. "I didn't know!"
Chanter bent and pried her arms away, then knelt before her. "It's okay. I'm not angry."
"You're not?" She looked up at him in amazement. "But I shot you!"
He shrugged. "It didn't hurt much."
"But I could have…"
"Killed me?" He chuckled. "Highly unlikely, my little clan. I'm not mortal, remember? I am the undying, accursed Mujar."
"It's not funny!" She rubbed tears from her cheeks. "I thought you'd left me to the wolves. I was all alone!"
"Ah, yes, I was on my way back. I thought you'd be getting chilly about now."
"The wolves might have come while you were gone!"
"No."
Talsy sniffed, snuggling up to him as if he was a magnet and she the iron filings. "Why did you leave me?"
Chanter sighed, allowing her cling to him and soak up his warmth. "Two reasons. Mujar don't like lying on the ground for any length of time, and we also don't need to sleep. I was running with my brothers, the wolves, enjoying the night."
Talsy revelled in his warmth and the comfort his arms imparted. Her boldness surprised her, for she had always shied away from men, distrusting their intentions. With Chanter she had no such qualms, in fact, his closeness was reassuring and seductive.
"Why don't you like to lie on the ground?"
"I'll teach you the ways of Mujar, but not right now. It's the middle of the night, and you need to sleep. We have a long journey tomorrow."
"Why do you call the wolves your brothers?"
"Because they are. Every living thing is my kin."
She glanced up at him. "That's why you won't kill them."
He nodded. "Something like that. Are you warm?"
"Yes."
"Then go and sleep." Chanter stood up, pulled her to her feet and pushed her towards the tent. Talsy crawled inside, expecting him to follow, but found herself alone.
"Chanter?"
The forest's stillness answered her, and she turned to poke her head outside. The Mujar had vanished as silently as the wind. Fear chilled her again, but she quelled it, retreating once more into the tent to snuggle under the furs, comforted by his lingering warmth.
Chanter paused to look back at the tent, alone and alien in the wilderness. Bending to scoop up a handful of snow, he waited until it turned to water in his palm, then rubbed it on his wound. A flash of pain accompanied the healing, making him gasp a cloud of vapour as the injury vanished. Raising his head, he breathed the cold, crisp air, nostrils flaring as he savoured its purity. He sensed the wolves nearby, searching for a scent of quarry. Crouching, he placed his palms on the icy ground, drawing on Dolana. The Earthpower flowed into him with its chilling drain, sapped his warmth and snuffed the Crayash within him. Before it became too strong, he wielded it, like cracking a whip, with a flick of his mind.