6: The Untrod Path
True to Ata’s prediction, Batu did not return until long after moonlight faded from the sky. Gray twilight foretold dawn’s coming when Leiyn caught sight of him. The others had long ago entered the grotto, but she had kept her vigil from without. Other spirit beasts could allow admission into the grotto, but she did not know if the moonbear had that capacity.
How little she knew of any of this.
The moonbear did not return with him, however. After their ramblings, Batu looked as ragged as his esse implied. Emerging into the clearing surrounding Haven, she saw he was nearly naked, mere scraps of clothes clinging to his frame. Scrapes and cuts crisscrossed his body, and bruises were evident on his chest.
But she was happier to see him injured than covered in pale fur.
She descended the ramp of roots to meet him. His hair, normally bound atop his head, fell in a sweat-soaked curtain about his face as he met her gaze.
“You alright?” She scanned his shabby appearance.
He smiled. His shoulders were bowed, but only from weariness. No shred of shame of who he was remained.
He’s come a long way.
She was about to lead him up the ramp when he spoke. “I feel…complete. More than I have since losing her.”
Her. Between them, there could only ever be one “her.”
“While with Sarryl,” he continued, “I—”
“Sarryl? The moonbear?”
He nodded, eyes vague, his gaze seeming to reach beyond the treehouse. “‘Moonlight’ in my tongue. He revealed it to me, I think. Or perhaps I invented it.” Batu shook his head with a small smile. “While together, it's difficult to know which thoughts are his and which are solely mine.”
Almost, she envied him that. “Strange,” she murmured. “That’s not how it is with Clouded Fang.”
Even after months spent strengthening their bond and plumbing his depths, the titan remained opaque. Distant. Their joining was more of vitality and power than of twinned souls. She still did not know why he yielded to her or bore any interest for a mortal. In some ways, he felt more a force of nature than an animal. A storm tentatively tethered.
Batu did not seem to hear her. “I didn’t feel incomplete before. But somehow, with Sarryl, I’m whole.”
“And without him, you’re naked.” She gave a meaningful look down. “Come on. The others will be wondering about you.”
This time, he understood, and a wry chuckle broke free of him as he took in his state of undress. “Maybe you’re right.”
She started to reach for her ash dragon, then paused. “The bear—where is he now?”
“Back at his den. It will be some time still before he wishes to leave it.” His eyes, returned to their usual warm brown, grew sharp as he looked into hers, seeming to read her unspoken question. “But when I call for him, wherever the moon shines, he will come.”
She envied that confidence with which he spoke of Sarryl. She had faith in her bond to Clouded Fang, but it had taken a season of practice to achieve.
Though I need not become the dragon.
“Good,” she said aloud, then jerked her head back toward the living house. “Ready?”
As they set up the ramp, Leiyn reached down for her titan. One burning eye opened to stare at her. Esse raced up their bond, then burst from her in a shimmering cloud.
The hidden grotto materialized from beyond reality’s veil.
* * *
Early the next morning, the others rose and gathered around their rekindled campfire. Even Ata was present, the dryvan perhaps sufficiently interested in Batu’s experiences to battle her boredom and remain in place. Chispa curled around Leiyn’s legs, warming them. She stroked his fur from head to tail. A faint trail of lifefire curled from the silver fox into her, bolstering her after her sleepless vigil.
Once Batu was awake, they pestered him for an account of his strange experience. Despite having little rest, the former plainsrider was bright-eyed as he told of his moonlit wanderings. While merged with Sarryl, they had hunted a red deer, gorged themselves, then slaked their thirst and bathed in a small waterfall. Simple acts all, yet to hear Batu speak of them, each sounded like a spiritual awakening.
He was not just a plainsrider now. He was truly a wildsoul.
When their questions ran dry, Ekosa spoke into the silence. “We decided to leave before. But where will we go?”
They looked at one other. Leiyn was never one to stay directionless, yet she found herself at a loss. Where could they go when Sharo could be anywhere?
Only one place remained. The one to which Ata sought a path.
“Ilberia,” she said, drawing the gazes of the others. “Find the World King in the capital, Vasara. The Altacura might be there as well if we’re fortunate. Maybe Sharo, too. But even if he’s not there, we’ll still take away his puppets.”
Ata laughed and strode off toward the balcony. What she found amusing, she did not see fit to share. Chispa nestled closer under Leiyn’s legs, lifefire pressing into her.
Teya spoke hesitantly. “If we intend to venture to unknown shores, we should be prepared. Let us go to Qasaar first.”
“Qasaar?” Ketti cast her a quizzical look. “Are you not… That is, would we be welcomed there?”
The implication was plain: Teya was as much an exile as any of them. Leiyn harbored similar doubts. How willingly would the Many Tribes aid them when they traveled with a Spear who had abandoned her duty? And if they remained allies with Baltesia, as she hoped, could they aid Leiyn without breaking faith?
But as the former situal stared across the campfire, Leiyn tried for optimism. “We helped the chieftains once. And they know better than anyone the importance of our mission.”
Teya nodded, looking more doubtful than assured. Ketti and Ekosa exchanged a look. Batu leaned his elbows onto his knees, looking more like the man he had been the past few months than the spirited wildsoul from the night before.
“We may acquire more Iritu artifacts there as well,” Teya continued. “Khamo was not the last of the lyshans serving Sharo. Though you have your titan, the rest of us may be served by carrying more weapons.”
Leiyn flinched. Words sprang to her tongue like venom to a snake’s bite. Isla wore Iritu clothes, used Iritu arrows. Where did that get her?
She swallowed them so they sat hard and unspoken in her gut, then spoke tempered words. “Best hope they’re feeling generous, then.”
“We need not only rely upon their generosity.” Ketti wrung her hands. Her small frame seemed vulnerable, almost like a child’s, even as her esse burned high and bright. “Let us return to Solace. Etemans may not be warriors, but there are none more skilled in mahia throughout Unera. And we have long known our enemy.”
“Very long, indeed,” Ata called over her feathered shoulder. Taunting.
The Eteman did not rise to the goad. “If we do not find weapons there, we may recover knowledge. A hint to where Sharo lies.”
A hint. That was all they could hope for now. Leiyn swallowed a sigh and nodded. “We’ll visit there as well. Briefly,” she added as Batu raised his head, eyes smoldering with need. “Only as long as we must.”
He bared his teeth, a hint of feral ferocity crossing his features. Then it was gone. He lowered his gaze once more, animal instinct fleeing before lingering human grief.
Teya stood and stretched. Even then, the sight of it distracted Leiyn, though the urgency of their mission banished the baser thoughts.
“We take the morning to prepare,” the scout said when she subsided. “Come the afternoon, we depart.”
“Do as you must,” Ata said, still facing the forest. “I shall be waiting.”
* * *
Omn’s eye hung high above their refuge by the time they gathered around their mounts. Leiyn stroked Feral’s snout and was surprised when she did not snap at her hand.
“You know, don’t you, old girl?” she muttered in her ear. “Know we cannot take you with us.”
The mare eyed her, a warning that Leiyn tested her limits. Subsiding, Leiyn watched Batu, the last to come down the ramp. His shoulders were bowed with weariness, the night’s trials weighing harder on him as the day passed, but he did not plead to delay. If anything, in his bloodshot eyes lay more determination than the rest.
Including you? a part of her taunted. Where has your flame gone, Firebrand?
As Batu took Saikan’s reins, Leiyn turned for one last look at their refuge. Haven had become comfortable and familiar over the winter. Its living roof had given them shelter from the constant rain, and the grotto kept them safe from the many threats without. It had hidden them from the world when she could not bear to be part of it.
But an exile had no home—none but the one they had lost. Without Isla, without the Wilds Lodge, Leiyn doubted she would ever feel at home again.
Spotting Chispa approaching from the jungle, where he had departed while they packed, she crouched and held out her hand. The silver fox nestled his head into it, then twisted up to look at her with guileless affection. Biqqa had emerged with the silver fox, and the green hummingbird flew circles around Ketti’s head. The Eteman smiled at the spirit beast, her mahia reaching out to her in greeting.
“Thanks for staying near,” Leiyn murmured. “For always being there.”
Chispa purred like a cat as he rubbed against her leg, then yipped. Startled, Leiyn laughed and rubbed down to his bushy tail, making him prance a step back.
“Lay low,” she said, sobering. “And keep safe out there. Might be a while before I see you again.”
She brushed his lifeforce with her mahia in farewell. Though their communication sounded nothing like what Batu had shared with Sarryl, she thought they shared some understanding as Chispa reciprocated her touch.
Without warning, the silver fox turned and fled into the jungle. Biqqa was close on his trail, a flash of emerald before she dove into the shadows. Both vanished to her lifesense as they found a new grotto to shelter within.
Leiyn rose and turned to Ata. “Ready when you are.”
The dryvan nodded, her gaze trailing after where the spirit beasts had vanished. “We’ll take it in shorter strides,” she said vaguely. “Wouldn’t want to lose any of you along the way.”
“Or break any legs,” Batu noted, running a hand along Saikan’s flank. His horse snorted and bumped his head into his master.
Ata ignored him and looked out over the forest north—to Qasaar, their destination. She wondered if the Iritu could sense it even from where they stood. For all the months they had spent together, she was only vaguely aware of the shapeshifter’s limits. And, by extension, those of her twisted kin.
“Stay close.” It was Ata’s only warning before she dragged them into the unknown.
Thanks for reading these sample chapters of The Wilds Exile! I hope you enjoyed them.
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Whatever your decision, I’m grateful you took the time to check out the story and wish you well!
~ J.D.L. Rosell
