Page 176 of Moon Chosen

“If he stays here the blight will kill him,” Mari said.

“But your poultice?”

“My poultice is only one part of the cure for this disease. I need access to moonlight, and not the weak light that might filter in from those windows.” Mari jerked her chin in the direction of the high, circular-shaped windows of the nest. “Without the full power of unhindered moonlight, he has no chance,” Mari said.

“Your prayer platform. It’s the highest place in the Tribe. There is nothing above it but sun and moon and sky,” Nik said.

“Is it the only way?” Sol asked her.

“Yes.”

The Sun Priest nodded solemnly. “Then, son, let’s get your cousin up there.”

Working quickly, Sol and Nik wrapped O’Bryan up, cocoon-like, in a light blanket.

“Maeve, you stay here. If the Healer or anyone else asks after O’Bryan tell them…” Sol trailed off as if searching in vain for words he couldn’t quite capture.

“Tell them your Sun Priest has taken O’Bryan above to pray for healing,” Mari said. When the three of them stared at her, she had to force herself not to fidget nervously. “Is that wrong? The Clan goes outside to pray to our Earth Mother. Wouldn’t you pray to your Sun under the open sky, too?”

“We would—we do,” Sol said.

“What you said wasn’t wrong. It was perfect,” Nik assured her.

“I’ll go first. Keep to the shadows behind me and only move when I motion the way is clear,” Sol said. “Laru—keep Fortina and Rigel here with you.”

“No.” The word broke from Mari at a visceral level before she willed it. “I won’t be separated from Rigel. Not even for a moment. Not even for this. Nik told me I wouldn’t have to be.”

“Where Mari goes, Rigel goes,” Nik said.

“Very well. Keep the pup quiet and close to you. The entire Tribe would recognize him, and that attention is something none of us needs right now.”

Mari nodded, and then crouched beside her young Shepherd. “Stay with me and don’t make any noise, Rigel. Like we’re hiding—like we’re back around the Clan.” Within her mind Mari sketched a picture of the two of them, silent as shadows, creeping from the nest. Rigel licked her and thumped his tail briefly, then he stilled even that small, happy sound.

Mari kissed his nose, and then stood. “He understands. We’re ready.”

Nik lifted O’Bryan, holding him in his arms as if he was a small child who had fallen asleep and needed to be carried to his bed.

“He’s so light. It’s like there’s nothing left of his body,” Nik said.

Sol closed his eyes and bowed his head, and Mari saw his mouth moving as he offered a silent prayer.

“Follow me.”

The journey to the Sun Priest’s platform wasn’t long, but later Mari would remember it with a kind of distracted wonder. She crossed bridges that swayed gently in the breeze and connected clusters of homes that were exotic and incredibly lovely—each similar in form, but completely unique.

Just before they got to the stairs and began ascending to the platform, they crossed over a huge deck area, bigger than Mari could ever have imagined. In the center of the deck there were six massive pines, grown so close together for so long that they had joined to form a heart. And from the very middle of the heart, growing directly on the stately trees, was an enormous cluster of ferns, so big that a single frond could cover Nik from head to toe.

She and Nik were huddled in the shadows, waiting for Sol’s go-ahead signal. Mari whispered to Nik, “What are they?”

“Those are the Mother Trees,” he whispered back. “Growing on them are the Mother Plants. I’ll tell you all about them later.”

“I know about them,” she said softly. “They cost my father his life.”

Before Nik could say anything more, Sol motioned and they hurried across the wide deck.

The artist within Mari wanted to stop and stare at everything—to take in the myriad of nest and pods and mazelike bridges and platforms that held it all together so that she could reproduce it on paper later.

The Clanswoman within her wanted to find the quickest escape route and flee.