Page 8 of Moon Chosen

With the rest of the Clan, Mari murmured, “Thank you, Moon Woman.” She shared a secret smile with her mother. Leda touched her daughter’s head, bent quickly, and kissed her forehead before moving on to the next group of waiting women.

Mari longed to join her mama—to show the Clan that she wasn’t sickly and she could be a help to their Moon Woman and, possibly, somedaybetheir Moon Woman.

“Better stay seated. Wouldn’t want your stomach pains to return.”

Mari looked up to meet Sora’s gaze. There was nothing wrong with what the girl said, but Mari felt the mockery hidden in the polite facade. She wanted to leap up and yell that she didn’t really have stomach pains! She was just different! But Mari wouldn’t, couldn’t say anything without jeopardizing her safety and, more importantly, her mother’s. So, all Mari said was, “Better hurry and catch my mama. Wouldn’t want one of the other gray-eyed girls to take your place.”

Sora’s frown marred her smooth forehead as she turned her back on Mari and rushed after Leda.

“She’s not much fun,” Jenna said.

“That’s not what the Clansmen say,” Mari quipped.

Jenna put her hand over her mouth, stifling a giggle. Mari grinned at her friend and leaned closer, ready to talk about how birdlike the feathers in Sora’s Moon Crown made her look, when she felt her mother’s gaze. She met her eyes and, over the heads of the Clan, Leda mouthed one word,kindness.

Mari sent her mama a quick, apologetic smile. As Leda moved from the maidens and children to the mothers and elders, Mari sighed. Her mama was right, of course. A Moon Woman was the Clan’s matriarch, and as such was Healer, counselor, leader, and mother to them all. Leda didn’t just act kind—shewas truly kind.

But was Mari truly kind? She didn’t know. She tried her best to make her mama proud. She tried to do the right things, but no matter how hard she tried she still felt as if she was lacking—or maybe lacking wasn’t entirely right. Maybe it was just that she was so unlike any of the Clan, even her mama, that she never felt as if she belonged. Mari watched Leda with bittersweet longing. If only she could be as easy in her skin as was her mama and Sora and the rest of the Clan.

Automatically, Mari checked the sleeves of her cloak even though the sun had left the sky. She realized what she was doing and stilled her restless hands as sadness washed over her, making her feel suddenly short of breath.

What am I doing here? I don’t belong and I’m only causing Mama to look weak and indecisive. I shouldn’t have come.

“Mari? Are you okay?” Jenna asked, and Mari realized the girl had been chattering a nonstop commentary about how she had helped the women from the nearby burrows ready the Gathering Site for tonight’s celebration.

“Sorry, Jenna. No, I’m still not feeling well. I’m going to head back to the burrow before it’s fully dark. Would you tell Mama that my stomach pains made me tired and that I left because I needed to rest?”

“Of course! Hey, I found a whole grove of blooming purple irises. Didn’t you say they make great dye?”

“Yeah, they do,” Mari said.

“Want to harvest them with me tomorrow?”

Mari wanted to say yes. She wanted to laugh and talk and gossip with her friend and not constantly be on guard, worrying about what the sunlight might reveal.

But she had to worry. She couldn’t predict or control if her skin would begin to glow in the sun, but glow it did, more often than not. And the recent days had been too bright and clear for her to chance disaster.

“I don’t know if I’ll feel well enough tomorrow, Jenna. But I’d like to—I really would.”

“Hey, don’t worry, Mari. It’s no big deal. I’ll be here at midday. If you feel better meet me here, okay?”

Mari nodded. “I’ll try.” She hugged Jenna, and silently prayed that the morrow would be overcast before adding, “Jenna, thank you for being my friend, even though we don’t spend as much time together as I wish we did.”

Jenna hugged Mari tightly before stepping back and grinning impishly. “It’s not about how much time we spend together. It’s about how much fun we have when we do, and we have lots of fun! We’re Clan, Mari. That’s all that really matters. I’ll always be your friend.”

Mari smiled through tears. “I really will try to make it tomorrow,” she said. She snuck a quick glance at Leda before she hurried away. Surrounded by Earth Walkers, her magickal mother bathed the Clan in the healing power of the moon, not noticing that her daughter had slipped silently into the darkening forest, alone once more.

3

Far to the northwest, just beyond the boundary of the ruins of the City, Dead Eye made a decision that would alter the fabric of the world. Recently the restlessness that had punctuated his entire life had grown to an almost unbearable level. He knew why. He was well and truly disgusted by pretending that his God, the People’s Reaper, was alive. Dead Eye had known the God was dead from the day the Caretaker had presented him to Her.

The day of his presentation he had been as excited as the rest of the younglings who had survived the sixteen winters it took to be proclaimed one of the People. Dead Eye had fasted and prayed and brought his living sacrifice. Naked, he and the other younglings had entered Her Temple in the heart of the City and climbed the stairway up and up to the Watchers’ Chamber.

The chamber had been filled with the sweetly pungent smoke of cedar wood. The bones of the Others who had been sacrificed for the People were stacked against the walls of the large room, forming intricate decorations to show the People’s pleasure in their God’s bounty. Sleeping pallets were interspersed between metal pots filled with fragrant, always burning wood, curtained by walls of vines that had been coaxed to grow from cracks in the Temple’s ceiling.

Then the Watchers had included young women, as well as the crones who chose to end their days in service to the Reaper. Dead Eye remembered that the day he had been presented to the God many of the pallets had held young Watchers, their bodies actively accepting the Reaper’s tribute from young, virile men.

“Best concentrate on the God. If She accepts your sacrifice and answers your question, there will be time for pleasure later.” Dead Eye’s Caretaker had reminded him when his attention had strayed too long to one of the more vocal couples.