For hours, we waited. Sweat mingled with the blood on my neck, which matted in my hair. It was too hot, and the presence of Wolf Tongue standing so near too overwhelming for me to put any thoughts together. The Beast would not come while everyone watched. I knew that much. I was safe for the moment. Safe . . .
My mother’s dress. With my head bowed to my chest, I could see how the bloodstain had traveled down my torso to the waistband. Such a pity. It was to have been my wedding dress.
The sun began to set. One by one, the four torches were lit and set in grooves upon the corner stones. The clouds went orange and red, then deepened into the purple of twilight. A constant wind twisted through the Teeth and whipped my hair across my face. My hands bound, I could not move to push it back.
Suddenly the wind was gone. With it went the torchbearers. Behind them followed the warriors, the elders, and the twelve limping maidens. Oh, Father! Must you leave me too? I dared not look up, for I knew I would find he was already gone. At last even Wolf Tongue slipped down from the slab. I heard his heavy tread as he moved down the mountain trail, out of sight. Even he fled the night’s coming terror.
Speak, Starflower . . .
9
WITH MY FOREHEAD PRESSED against the central stone, I knelt, blood soaked and ringed in red torchlight. Too long had I lived as an outcast, but I had never been so abandoned. I felt the pressure on my shoulders where Wolf Tongue had grabbed me and forced me to my knees as firmly as though he still stood over me, holding me in place. All the half-formed plans I had made during the weeks of our journey fled my mind. All the battles I had thought to fight, all the resolve for courage in the face of my end. There could be no fight, no courage.
And yet, I thought, it could be Fairbird waiting here.
But it wasn’t. Fairbird was safe. She was far from the Beast’s shadow, and the price of her life was paid. With this thought came warmth, peace, even. Like the first breath of spring chasing away the cold months of winter. How it stole into my mind in that deathly place I do not know, but there it was. I could bear my own death, my own pain. How would I have borne knowing she sat in this circle of stones? Such a fate would be far, far worse than death. But that fate would never be. My Fairbird would live. She must!
Can you hear me?
The cry of that sad voice again touched my mind. It was the same voice I had heard as I climbed the mountain. For the first time I realized with some surprise that it was no memory. It spoke to my mind from the outside.
Someone was calling me.
I turned where I sat. The cords on my wrists bit down deep if I moved too much, but I was able to look around me a little. The torchlight acted as a shield preventing me from seeing anything that might be in the darkness beyond. The night was perfectly still, without a breeze, and the torches burned straight and tall. Their crackle was the only sound to break the stillness. It was as though the Place of the Teeth was cut off from the rest of the world.
Can you hear me?
I can! I can! I wanted to shout. Oh, are you close? Can you untie my bonds? But I had no voice. I could hear but could not respond.
My mouth opened in a scream that, though silent, rattled me to my core. They were gone. All my people, my father, everyone! They had abandoned me, and I could not so much as cry for help! I gnashed my teeth, lifting my gaze to the looming crest of Bald Mountain, just visible above the torchlight. But I could scarcely lift my head, so heavy was the darkness weighing upon me. I struggled against it, furious.
The torches went out.
Plunged into sudden blindness, I lay still, afraid even to breathe. But my ears were sharp, and there were no other noises to disguise the approaching footsteps. I turned my head in the direction of the sound, toward the higher slopes of the mountain. Someone was descending. Straining my eyes, I saw a tall black figure. Like a fluid shadow it passed over the ground and climbed up onto the slab of bloodstained stone.
Yellow eyes flashed in the night.
“Starflower,” Wolf Tongue whispered. “You are mine at last.”
I should have known. I should have guessed from the night of my mother’s death when he gazed upon me with so much hunger.
There was no other Beast in the Land. Only Wolf Tongue.
He looked down on me, blocking out the stars with his great broad shoulders. I gazed into his eyes, gleaming with their own light. Wolf’s eyes. He was a strange, otherworldly creature. My body quivered like one hunted. I read the story his eyes told, a tale of fire and betrayal and death.
But, I thought—and this was the strangest thing—it was not my death I saw in his gaze.