Page 3

Chapter Three

D arik startled from a deep sleep and sat up, heart racing. He clutched his spear and gazed around, disoriented. Where the seven hells was he? Why was he carrying a spear and what was with this animal hide kilt he had on? And the woven brown cloak?

He’d been seated in a rocky crevice, recessed into a larger cliff, with a steep drop below. He had handmade boots on his feet and a small pack lay close at hand. The cloak was fastened with a golden clasp in the stylized shape of one of the goddess’s sacred flowers. Rising to his feet and setting aside the spear—his own natural weapons were far superior—he put his hands on his hips and studied the sky.

Cloudless, the expanse of blue was dizzyingly beautiful. It was the color of spring birds’ eggs, nothing like the cobalt hue of Ushandirr’s sky. He could stare at this sky for hours and meditate. It was simply the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. The air was fresh and carried all kinds of scents which made his inner predator sit up and take notice, awakening a desire to explore and to hunt.

Sounds of people approaching on the trail far below his position recalled him to the moment and he crouched low. Only a watcher who knew exactly where he was located would see him if they happened to glance up. As he watched a small group of Badari natives went by below, accompanied by two crude carts drawn by shaggy horned animals strange to his eyes. There were men with spears like his, women and a few children, along with several canine-type smaller animals, which he guessed were pets, considering how friendly they seemed to the children especially.

The strangers were big buff people. The men weren’t as tall as he was but stood easily at least six feet in height and were well muscled. The women were close in size, fair of face, with their long hair braided. The group was making good time to wherever they were going. A few fragments of conversation drifted up to him on the breeze and he realized the travelers were speaking Badari, or a dialect close enough for him to catch words and phrases.

She really did it, she sent me to the time of the ancestors, he thought in amazement and shock as the travelers moved on out of sight. Be careful what you ask a goddess to do for you. Quickly he took stock of what he had. The spear, some kind of journey cake and dried meat in the pack and of course the double-sided bottle, which was now on a black leather thong around his neck. There was a woven shirt in the pack and he put it on to hide the bottle. Briefly he was tempted to stow the container in the pack until he found the mythical spring but he couldn’t risk losing it. He deployed his fangs and talons with a bit of trepidation, but his natural weaponry was intact and his inner predator seemed a bit dazed but present. Darik rubbed his chest over his heart and took a deep breath. The pack bond was gone.

He'd heard Nario and Faine discuss how they’d lost the pack bond when the men were taken to the Khagrish home world and how unsettling it was. Even when he’d been on long range missions away from the valley and his Alpha, he’d always had the bond to anchor him. There was a physical pain where it should have been rooted in his heart. But of course if the Great Mother had sent him to the world and time of the ancestors, there were no packs. The original Badari weren’t telepathic either although they had healers with powers.

His head spun a little, trying to sort out what parts of him were like the people who’d passed by on the trail below, what aspects were the alien predator DNA mixed with the original DNA ripped from these innocent barbarians and what was forced evolution, brought on by the Khagrish experiments. He was going to have to mingle with the ancestors at least once because even though he turned the crude sack inside out, there was no map, no clue to give him direction to the spring he was seeking.

He did find a small leather bag tied with a short thong and when he opened it and spilled the contents carefully on the ground he stared in stupefaction at a pile of brilliantly colored seashells. There were also a few unpolished stones of varying sizes. He picked one up to examine more closely and saw the shimmer of semiprecious gem embedded in the ordinary rock material.

The economy must operate by barter here. That’ll be a new wrinkle to master.

Taking a deep breath, he gathered his meager possessions, restoring his trade goods to their small pouch and then contemplated the sky. He reached for the mate bond and found it remained, faint but there. We shouldn’t have allowed ourselves to build walls between us , he thought with piercing regret. If he completed this quest successfully and made it home to Ushandirr and Nicolle he was going to pour out his heart to her and hope she’d do the same. He wondered what his mate and the Alphas were making of his disappearance. He hoped they didn’t count him as a deserter but there was nothing he could do about it now. If he brought home the special water, Aydarr would forgive any previous behavior once he knew what Darik had. The Supreme Alpha wanted his people to have families and to increase the Badari population. In Aydarr’s view the claimed mates became Badari and any children, like Hope, daughter of Mateer and Megan were Badari.

Thank you for this chance , he said to the Great Mother in his head, and for allowing me to keep the mate bond.

Darik bowed his head and sent a pulse of love along the mate bond, distressed at the resistance and pushback from the link. Whether Nicolle would receive any of it in the future, on another world, he had no idea but he had to try.

Slinging the pack over his shoulder and hefting the spear, he began a careful descent to the road below, He had to pause for a few minutes while another, larger group of people and carts passed by. He didn’t want to be discovered. He wanted a chance to reconnoiter and plan his approach to the people here.

Once the caravan was gone around the curve of the mountain, he finished his trek to the road and followed in their tracks. He figured having seen two sizable groups going in the same direction was a good sign there was a settlement ahead.

Acutely conscious of the deadline the goddess had given him, Darik broke into a jog, which he could maintain for hours, curious what he’d find at the end of this primitive road.

Hours later he lay well hidden in scrubby underbrush and studied the plain below him. The road descended gradually into the valley and there was a sizable encampment spread out along the riverbanks. With his enhanced Badari vision, he could see the details even from this distance. More people were arriving, coming from various directions and he concluded this wasn’t a permanent settlement or if it was, the actual population was increased by all the visitors, maybe for a festival.

There was a cluster of tents in the center of the gathering and guards were posted at regular intervals on the perimeter of those dwellings, doing patrols and regulating who could pass through the cordon to enter the elaborate shelters. Pennants flew from poles in the center of the special area, one taller and bigger than the others. The insignias meant nothing to him but appeared to be beasts of all types. He supposed at least a few were mythical. Darik wanted to avoid encountering whoever ruled here. He wanted to enter the campground, find a healer, ask his questions and be on his way.

People were coming and going freely, more arriving every few minutes. He heard music in the distance, reeds and drums, and the rhythm stirred his blood, as if he was at a ceremony in his time and the drummers were pounding out a paean to the goddess. The idea was encouraging and he rose, dusted himself off and boldly took to the road. He strode along with confidence, nodding to people he passed as they stared at him. A few called greetings at which he waved but didn’t try to respond.

Let them think I’m a gruff mountain man.

Warriors with black-white-and-red feathers braided into their hair were directing newcomers where to park their carts. Two of the men approached him and Darik paused, stepping out of the flow of traffic before the beasts of burden ran him over.

“Welcome, stranger,” said the taller of the warriors, making a hand sign. “What clan are you? You wear no insignia.”

“I thought all were welcome here,” Darik said.

The soldiers recoiled a little probably at his accent. “Indeed the gathering of the clans is a place and time for all Badari to rejoice in the blessings of the goddess,” the man replied, eyes narrowed.

“I’m from the far north,” Darik said, more or less truthfully. “I’m a wanderer by nature but right now I’m on a quest for the Great Mother and she sent me here. My intentions are peaceful and I’ll not linger. If you could direct me to the most senior healer here, I’d be grateful.”

“You speak casually of the goddess,” said the second soldier, who’d been quiet till now.

“I mean no disrespect. Quite the contrary, I owe her more than I could ever repay.” Which was true. Darik and his people owed the Great Mother a debt for their very survival, their mates, their freedom…for giving them hope for 800 years while they were tortured and experimented on. “But she has given me a task and a time limit, so if you could point me in the right direction to find the healer I’ll be on my way.”

He wished he was an Alpha, to exert a bit of power and pressure on the soldiers, who were obviously suspicious of him. Fortunately a large group of pilgrims or travelers arrived and there was a bit of chaos going on. The warriors at the entrance were yelling for assistance and the sentinels interrogating him turned to leave.

“Imgraye the Aged has her white tent on the far side of the camp, next to the river,” one of the soldiers said over his shoulder as he hastened off. “You can’t miss the banner.”

Yeah, I probably could. The packs had no written language, only trail signs which they’d developed and hidden from the Khagrish scientists. Darik didn’t see much writing on any surface around him but if there was, he wouldn’t be able to read it. Miracle enough the ancestors’ version of Badari was close enough to his to allow communication. He started in the general direction the man had indicated and shortly had to pause as a group of children ran across the path, shrieking and laughing and playing a game. He watched them in amazement. He’d never seen such happy children. Badari cubs were created in the labs and raised within the strict structure the scientists had established. Even after Jill had led the packs to freedom, the cubs retained most of their indoctrinated behavior, which had been a matter of life and death in the labs. Habits of even a young lifetime were hard to break.

The only little girl he’d ever seen was Hope and she was a happy child, but one of a kind. Seeing so many in one place transfixed him.

Glancing at the bustling encampment, he savored the moment. It was late afternoon, heading toward sundown and cooking fires were roaring, the aromas mouthwatering. People were mingling, talking, examining wares laid out in carts or on the ground…Darik stood rooted to the spot, taking it all in. This, this was what Aydarr wanted for his people in the far future, what he was working so hard to achieve—a genuine community. Darik wanted desperately to be a part of what lay around him. They were Badari, he was Badari…but he wasn’t, not really. The alien predator entwined in his DNA reminded him large portions of who and what he was had nothing in common with these people. And who knew what 800 years of experiments by the Khagrish had changed when it came to the Badari root stock. He resembled them to a large enough extent to blend in, although his height obviously confounded them, but he couldn’t truly be a part of these people. Darik rubbed his chest, where the constant ache lay, reminding him of his lost pack bond.

Staying here wasn’t an option, even if he was invited to do so. He had to get back to Nicolle and his pack brothers.

And the goddess hadn’t given him that as a choice either. Seven days—one of which was already nearly used up—and he’d die if he hadn’t completed his quest.

The thought was enough to get him moving again toward the river. He saw the peak of a white tent ahead in a cluster of others and walked faster.

He wondered where he was in the timeline of this place, as far as the tragic events which were going to end these people or their descendants and turn this planet into rubble, orbiting the local sun like a cold, dead ember. His mood was grim when he arrived at the tent he sought. Several banners flew from poles planted in the ground, neither of which bore symbols he recognized but this had to be his destination.

There was a small gong hung by the closed flap to the tent and he picked up the mallet slung on a string next to it and tapped once, producing a musical note which echoed. People passing by stared at him and he supposed he was breaking protocol or local etiquette but there was no choice. This woman might have the answers he needed to truly embark on his quest.

“Enter,” said a quavery voice from inside the tent.

Carefully Darik lifted the flap and stepped into the tent, where the lighting was dim, coming from a small fire ring and candles. An old white-haired woman sat on a pile of pillows across from him, with a low table in front of her. The table was a miracle of wood carving, with intricate details he wished he had time to study. He’d have to do his best to describe it to Yonn, who did woodworking as a hobby, when he got home. She had a variety of objects spread on the surface of the table which she’d apparently been studying.

“You aren’t what I was expecting,” she said with a frown, pushing the collection of small bones and polished stones into a pile to the side. Her eyes widened when she saw the clasp of his cloak but her next remark was matter of fact. “The omens said one would come today and here you are, but what you are I know not. A man mountain it appears.”

“I apologize for disturbing you, my lady,” Darik said with a bow. He’d never seen an elderly Badari before either—the Khagrish were ruthless about terminating each Generation at a set age. Her braided white hair and deep facial wrinkles fascinated him. “I was told you were a healer?”

“Don’t look like a man in need of healing to me,” she said, raising her eyebrows at him and inspecting him from head to toe as if he was a soldier at attention. “And you are who?”

“Darik, of the northern clans. Far northern,” he added hastily. “I’m not sick or wounded but I’ve been sent on a quest by the Great Mother and I need help to find my way.”

“The goddess didn’t give you details, eh?” The old woman cackled. “So like her. Mysteries and more mysteries. Well sit down, don’t tower over me like a damn tree, boy.” Turning to the fire, she used tongs to pick up a small pot and poured steaming water into two mugs.

Darik set aside the spear and folded himself into a cross-legged position across the table from her. “I appreciate your help, old one.”

“Best to wait and see if I can or will help,” she said with a sniff. Holding out one bent hand, she gestured impatiently with the other. “Give me your hand so I may read the lines.”

Not sure what to make of the request, Darik hesitated. “With all due respect, I don’t think I need my fortune told today.”

“You don’t know what you need and neither do I yet,” she said. “This is part of the process. You want my help, you have to do what I request.”

Feeling foolish, he extended his hand palm up and reminded himself sternly not to show any sign of his talons. Imgraye curled her fingers around his, hissed and snatched her hand away as if burnt. She studied his face for a long moment and then said, “Wait here.” She rose, went to an open trunk full of bottles and vials and selected one, rubbing a sweet smelling lotion vigorously over both hands before returning to the table.

“There’s something about you, northern warrior, which gives me the chills,” she said frankly as she sat and arranged the folds of her embroidered cloth dress. Awkwardly she fumbled one handed with a fur cloak and he rose to assist her, which she tolerated with a sniff. As he sat on the pillows again, she said, “I’m tempted to send you away but I feel the influence of the Great Mother and therefore I have no choice in this matter.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, “But my need is great.”

She snapped her fingers and he gave her his hand again. This time the protective lotion must have dulled or prevented whatever had caused her initial reaction to the touch of his skin. He could feel her power although there was no green glow such as his pack’s healers displayed.

Swaying side to side, she closed her eyes. “I see a wolf, big and black furred. I see pain, suffering, longing, and loss. Yet I see love too and brotherhood.” Imgraye dropped his hand and opened her eyes.

He hoped his weren’t glowing. It was harder than he’d expected to tamp down all evidence of his true self. The fact she’d seen his wolf was dismaying.

“You—you are one with the wolf,” she said as if in accusation.

Speculating whether these Badari could scent truth and lies the way he could, Darik said, “I’m just a man, old one.”

“A man with dangerous secrets. There are legends, old and mostly forgotten about a race of men who carried the beast in their hearts. Take my advice and leave this camp as soon as you and I are through, for our good and yours.”

“Such is my intention.”

“You’ll find no friends here, not if anyone else suspects your hidden truths. There are other healers here at the gathering, none to equal my abilities and standing but capable enough to see you for who you are. Why the goddess would send one like you to us I have no idea.”

“As I said, she gave me a quest and I need help.”

Now she shoved one of the cups in his direction. “Tea. Drink and when we’re done I’ll read the leaves before you go. There may not be much to be discerned, given who you are, but it’s part of my duty when assisting a supplicant or a patient.”

His kind of Badari were immune to poisons and since she was drinking from her own cup readily enough, Darik drained the small serving of what she termed tea and set the mug aside. “May I tell you what I need, my lady?”

“I’m not the high chief’s wife,” she said with a frown. “Healer will do for a title. First we need to discuss payment. You’re not of my clan so I don’t work for free.” Imgraye opened a box at her side, plucked out a clay pipe painted with colorful symbols and packed it with fragrant leaves before lighting it with a small stick from the edge of the fire. Puffing away, she gestured. “I don’t have all day, man.”

He'd never heard of a healer charging for their services but then little was truly known about the ancestors and their daily lives. Belatedly he remembered the pouch of shells and stones he’d found in his sack and dug for it. Drawing it out of the larger bag, he loosened the thong and spilled the contents on the table, where they scattered.

Imgraye froze, eyes wide. Setting the pipe aside, she leaned close to the table to study the pattern his offerings made. Whatever insight she gleaned, she chose not to share, which suited Darik. He’d had about enough of magic. Using her fingertips she separated out five shells, including the largest and three of the stones. “You carry riches, man from the north. Best not to be so free to display this to others. There are those who could be tempted. And how is it one from the far north has such an assortment of shells from the ocean and in perfect condition besides?”

Darik scooped up the items she’d rejected and restored them to the pouch, hiding it away in the pack. “The Great Mother provides.”

“You must stand high with her indeed.” Imgraye tucked the items she’d bartered for her fee into a small pouch at her belt and took the pipe up again. Leaning against her pillows, seeming completely at ease, she said, “Tell me the nature of this quest and describe the help you need.”

“My people have few children,” he said. “My—my wife and I recently lost a child in the womb. It was early days but devastating to us both. I asked the Great Mother for help and she told me there was a spring here on this pl—in this area where the water contained special elements my wife and the wives of my brothers would need in order to conceive children and carry them to term.” He fished out the tiny glass flask and Imgraye eyed it with great interest. “I’m to fill this and take it home. One dose for my wife.”

“And the second dose?”

“For whoever my chief deems most worthy,” he lied, there not being any way to explain the doctors would conduct a detailed analysis of the liquid and its trace elements and manufacture industrial quantities for all the Badari Warriors’ mates. Referring to Nicolle as his wife rather than his mate was upsetting but Imgraye was suspicious enough of him. “Does such a spring even exist?”

“Oh absolutely,” she said with a nod of the head, to his great relief. “The spring of Dalaimira. But why don’t you go to the Great Mother’s temple and purchase the water your wife needs? With the trade goods you carry, even after paying my fee, the expense shouldn’t be a problem.”

“There’s a temple?” he replied in disbelief. Why had the Great Mother sent him to find a spring if all he had to do was go to this temple and buy or barter for a few doses?

“Of course there is,” Imgraye answered, obviously relishing his ignorance. “The legend tells of a high chief hundreds of years ago who needed help for his favorite wife to bear him an heir— she had the problems of which you speak. Indeed many of our women suffer from this. He sent a hundred of his best men to the spring and only ten returned but they brought with them a vast quantity of the sacred water. The chief established a special priesthood to guard and administer the waters, which they do to this day.”

More myths and legends . Darik tried not to clench his jaw or loosen his fangs. He homed in on the part of her story which interested him the most. “Why did so few men survive? Were there deserters?”

Imgraye shook her head. “The spring is difficult to reach and guarded by fearsome monsters. Many try to obtain the waters from the source and nearly all fail.”

Probably no monster equal to the one I can become, Darik thought skeptically. He couldn’t shift into his beast but with his fangs and talons deployed he was more than a match for any monster on this planet. “I see. And you say the water these soldiers gathered is still at this temple?” He assumed the priests were doling out diluted water or even fake water at this point, centuries later.

“The precious liquid is kept in a specially constructed container made from beaten gold and blessed by the chief healer and high priest of the time. It is said the goddess renews the supply when needed as a reward for the bravery of the original soldiers.”

None of it sounded good to Darik and the Great Mother had told him specifically to find the spring. “Do you have a map? I need to see where this temple is and where the spring is said to be.”

“I should charge you extra,” she said with a laugh. Rising she rummaged through the trunk and came back with a blank piece of scraped hide. Using a piece of charcoal from the fire, she drew a map for him freehand and as he watched her create a mountain range and several mighty rivers between where he sat now and the place where the temple had been established, his decision was made for him. “I don’t have time to journey all that way. It would take weeks, crossing the mountains alone.”

“Probably.” She puffed on her pipe and watched him.

“So where’s the spring?”

Imgraye picked up her primitive crayon again and began tracing a route from the spot where this encampment was located, going northeast. It was a much shorter route and he didn’t see many obstacles in the way, unlike the other choice. As if she was reading his mind, the old healer said, “Don’t be fooled, legends state it’s rough terrain, with monsters and beasts wandering freely. Remember I told you the old chief sent a hundred men and only ten came home.”

“I’ll make it,” Darik said with complete confidence. He eyed the crude map, assessing whether she’d included enough details to enable him to locate the spring. Deciding she had, he pulled the piece of cured hide to him and rolled it up, securing it with a piece of string she handed to him. He made room for it in the pack and was ready to leave. “Thank you, Healer Imgraye, for your time and your counsel and the map.”

“One minute, impatient wolf. I need to read your tea leaves and then our session is complete.” She reached for his mug, where an assortment of leaf bits had sunk to the bottom, sloshing in leftover tea as she tilted the cup.

Darik gritted his teeth, seeing little point in this final ritual but figuring there was no point in being rude.

Imgraye’s face settled into an expression of absolute horror, mouth open, eyes wide and staring, and she flung the mug away into the fire, where it broke against the logs.

“What is it? What did you see?” He was taken aback by her reaction.

Imgraye buried her face in her hands. “Get out.”

He rose, grabbing his spear and the pack but hesitated. “Are you going to be all right? Should I call someone to come in?”

She raised her tear-stained face and stared at him. “Not your fortune, mine. My people’s. I thank the goddess I’ll not be here to see this destiny unfold. Safety in the afterlife will be a blessing. Now go.”

Guessing her abilities might have brought her a vision of the fate awaiting the Badari and the planet, Darik’s heart was heavy but there was nothing he could say or do to be helpful so he trudged out of the tent, carefully looping the flap behind him. He was adjusting the pack on his shoulders, debating whether to seek food at one of the campfires when a squad of men surrounded him.

He straightened to his full height. The same soldier who’d harassed him at the entrance to the gathering was in charge of this group. Darik could take them all and escape easily but so far they hadn’t threatened him, despite their demeanor. “What do you want?” he asked. “Can’t a peaceful traveler consult a healer in peace?”

“The high chief wants a word with you,” the officer said, hand on the hilt of his sword.

“Why?”

“High chief Javon doesn’t owe you any explanation, traveler. Come with us.”

Darik didn’t care for the man’s tone or the way the squad formed up around him as if he was a prisoner under guard but reminded himself he was perfectly capable of extricating himself from the situation at any time. These people had no stunners, no deadly Khagrish drugs to incapacitate him. He was a senior Badari soldier and could wreak havoc before these men could inflict a mortal wound on him. Yes their spears and swords could wound him but he’d heal almost immediately and his fangs and talons would decimate them before he used his Badari speed to escape. His inner predator paced, liking the idea of combat.

“I’m not here to cause any trouble,” Darik said, reminding himself and his beast at the same time he tried to reassure the soldiers as they all marched through the encampment toward the big tent which dominated all others. People stared as he passed by.

“Then you won’t mind answering a few questions for the high chief,” the soldier in charge said smugly. “What happens after you meet with him is in the hands of the goddess.”

Darik was silent for the rest of the walk. He was escorted into the large tent by the soldiers and found he was facing an empty seat. The arrangement of the space was much like Imgraye’s had been but on a grander scale, with a fire ring, a low table, heaps of pillows and cushions for seating and an elaborately carved wooden chair for the high chief. Oil lamps on stands blazed throughout the room, giving excellent illumination.

He wondered how long he was going to have to wait when a man strode through the opening at the back of the tent, entering from another room. Startled, Darik believed for a moment he was gazing at Aydarr. The newcomer was tall, well built, projecting an air of authority and his facial features resembled those of Darik’s own Supreme Alpha to such an extent he was positive he was in the presence of one of Aydarr’s actual Badari ancestors.

The high chief returned the salute the soldiers offered him and sat in the wooden chair. Rubbing his chin, he studied Darik. “So you’re the stranger from the north,” he said.

The voice was deep and powerful but it wasn’t Aydarr’s voice and Darik relaxed a bit. This time travel stuff messed with a man’s mind. “I’m Darik, of the northern clan, yes.”

“Welcome to my encampment.” The high chief picked up a goblet and drank deeply. “Come, sit at my table and dine with me. I would know more of your story for I tell you frankly, I know of no ‘northern clan’ and certainly not one which counts men like you among its members.”

“Yet we exist,” Darik said, moving to take a seat in a chair which was hastily brought in by a servant. “Do you doubt I am Badari?”

Th chief poured him a serving of whatever the beverage was and handed him the goblet. “I have no reason to doubt your tale but clearly there’s more to it and I’m most curious.” He directed his attention to the soldiers, who were waiting at the entrance. “You may go. The warrior and I will be fine as we break bread and talk.”

They won’t go far , Darik thought as he watched the men file out of the tent. Taking the goblet, he sniffed. A fruit-based wine, he guessed. His Badari Warriors didn’t drink anything alcoholic under strict orders from Aydarr. The long-term effects of imbibing were deadly for his kind. But in the here and now Darik figured he’d have to break the rule. He didn’t need to insult his host. Raising the glass he said, “To the Great Mother, who watches over us all.”

The chief clinked cups with him and both men drank. Wiping his lips, his host said, “So you’re traveled a long way to join us here?”

More than you’ll ever know . “According to the healer, I have yet many more miles to go,” Darik said, deflecting the question.

“You consulted Imgraye?”

“She was most helpful.” Darik’s mouth was watering at the array of foods the servers were carrying in, with several platters of roasted meat as the focus and bowls of stewed and steamed vegetables as side dishes. There was crusty bread as well, fresh from the oven, and as the chief served himself, Darik broke off a hunk of the bread and spread butter and jam across the surface. Javon carved several massive slices of the roast and placed them on Darik’s plate.

“We Badari are known four our hearty appetites,” the chief said. “And a man such as you must eat double the amount to satisfy his needs.”

“I was hungry,” Darik admitted. “I appreciate the hospitality.”

“What brings you here and what help did Imgraye provide?” Javon gave Darik a sideways glance. “The price of your dinner is information. I’m not as suspicious as my men—I believe your claim the Great Mother sent you on a quest, for that’s exactly the kind of thing she would do—but I need to know more.”

Having already told his story once to the old healer, Darik recounted it again to the chief. Javon paid close attention, sipping his wine and making serious inroads on the dinner as he listened. Darik hated having to unpack his personal tragedy for strangers twice in one day but talking to Javon was like being with his own Alpha in a way. At Javon’s request, he got out the map Imgraye had drawn for him and the two men pored over it, shoving the dishes aside. Javon called for a set of his own maps, which a soldier brought at a run and then added details to the original.

“What she gave you would get you there, but it’s best to have as much information as you can gather,” Javon said when the topic was thoroughly thrashed out and Darik rerolled his map.

“Thank you for the help. I’m under a time requirement from the Great Mother as well,” Darik said. “I might have had to do serious backtracking without your intel on the best place to ford the river and the safest pass to take through the mountains.”

“Imgraye is good and has traveled widely but she’s not a soldier,” the chief said, pouring himself more wine. Darik declined a refill. His head was spinning a bit and friendly as the chief had been so far, this wasn’t an ideal situation in which to overindulge. Not used to drinking, he wasn’t sure how much the wine would affect him. It was a relief to know his body was busy breaking down the compounds already. Sitting in a deceptively leisurely pose, Javon fixed his gaze on Darik and asked, “What do you know about the lights in the sky?”

Fork already on the way to his mouth with a portion of roast, Darik chewed and swallowed. He suspected this was the core of the chief’s desire to dine with him. “I hadn’t heard about those.”

“Strange lights, seen over remote villages and by hunters. Tales of travelers disappearing from their tents, never to be seen again. The latest word is of an entire settlement found empty by traders come to sell at their monthly fair. No sign of any living thing but starving pets. Even several recent graves were dug up and emptied. Men, women, children, all gone with no slightest clue left.”

Darik knew the Shemdylann pirates had assisted the Khagrish in studying the planet’s people before they were all kidnapped and the planet destroyed but he had no idea how long the early phase of the invasion had gone on. The Khagrish worked on a long timeline. “Sounds ominous,” he said, although he longed to tell Javon exactly what was going on. The knowledge would do the man and his people no good. Spears and swords against high tech blasters and other weapons were going to be of no avail. He couldn’t even counsel the Badari to hide because the planet itself was going to be blasted by the end of the atrocities, leaving no one alive. “Trust in the Great Mother,” Darik said, for his packs’ healers had told of how she pledged the Afterlife to all the Badari who were going to perish at the hands of the alien enemies. One of his brothers had even met some of the ancestors in a vision and seen for himself how the goddess had honored her word. “And…fight, as hard as you can, for as long as you can,” he added.

Javon stared at him. “Foreboding words, stranger. I think you know a great deal more than you share with me.”

Darik toyed with his goblet, unable to meet the chief’s eyes. “It…I—I’m forbidden by the goddess to say more. Believe me, I’m not withholding anything which would help your cause. On my honor as a Badari.”

“Long ago I received a dire warning,” Javon said. “I fear the time is fast approaching when the events which were foretold to me will sweep us all up in the whirlwind.” He downed the dregs of his wine and set the goblet next to his plate with a thump. Rising to his feet, he said, “I think it best if you are on your way now, Darik of the North. I’d thought to offer you lodging for the night but I’m no longer so inclined. May the goddess grant you success in your quest.”

Darik rose to his feet, upset and grief stricken at the secrets he was holding. This gallant man and his people deserved a much better fate than the one which was coming. “Thank you for the dinner and for your help with the map.”

“Go out the rear of the adjoining tent,” the chief said. “Make your way out of the encampment and circle back to the road. Don’t linger. There are rumors and whispers about you flying through the gathering. Talk of ancient legends and curses. I don’t place any belief in them myself having broken bread with you at my own table but even I must admit there’s something not right about you and your tale of a northern clan which simply doesn’t exist. The goddess may or may not have sent you but your presence creates unease and unrest.”

Unable to refute anything the chief said, Darik watched in silence Javon left the tent. He gathered his spear and the sack and followed, finding the next, connected tent room already empty. There was an open flap at the rear as promised and he slipped outside. The single guard he passed dipped his spear and nodded without speaking. Heading for the tree line, Darik moved at full sprinting speed and reached the safety of the forest without there being any outcry behind him.

Once he’d circled the camp and made it to the trail, stretching endlessly before him in the moonlight, he took a drink of water, pivoted and stared at the gathering from the slight elevation where he stood. Part of him wished he could return to the high chief’s tent and reveal all the details. He’d gladly fight beside the man to save these people, but it was not possible. This was all in the long ago past and he was from the far future and couldn’t change a thing here. He was the result of what was going to happen and all he could do was take revenge centuries later on their behalf.

“I pledge to you,” he said into the night, “My brothers and I will avenge the wrong that is soon to be done to you. We won’t stop fighting until the blood debt has been paid. We’ll dedicate our lives to honoring your memory and living the best future we can, as you would have done, had you been left to flourish.”

When he got home to Ushandirr he was going to share every painful detail with his brothers and sisters of how he felt in this moment, staring at the doomed ancestors, and the promise he’d made for all of his Badari. He’d ask them to rededicate themselves to the war effort, not only for their own futures, but to avenge these good people.