The Blood Moons

Chapter Six

He combed his fingers through his loose gray hair. As he walked the rows of tents, he found his mind drifting. He’d found her. After all these years, he’d finally found her. She was considerably younger than he remembered and there was something different about her. But that was her face, her eyes, her hair.

He stopped at a gray tent. Fear washed over him for a moment, replacing the elation from just a moment ago. What if she was too different? What if his memories outshone who she was now? What if she never rose to those memories? Would he accept her still? He knew without a doubt he would. This affirmation caused the insecurities to break and courage flowed through him. Taking a deep breath, he pulled aside the curtain flap and dipped inside.

On one side of the tent sat the vampire that was found with her. She sat dead still on a cot, arms bound in front of her. The black-red of the dried blood covered her from head to toe (though her wounds were already healed) and her dress ripped to ribbons. He’d tried to get her to clean up and get into a new dress, but she had refused to leave the woman’s side. Every time they would get close to either of them, she’d hiss, eyes switching from green to black. Even now, the vampire was eying him threateningly.

Ignoring her death glares, he turned his attention to the figure still prone on the other side of the tent. Red hair pooled around her head, hands laid to her side, and a coarse blanket pulled up to her chest. With her eyes closed, she looked to be sleeping. But she’d been sleeping for the last four days. Typically, the sleeping spell the witches had hit them with wore off after a few hours. Just like it had with the vampire. Neither he nor the witches could understand why it was reacting so differently with his woman.

“Still nothing?” he muttered to the older woman who followed him in. She shook her head grimly.

“She still sleeps, the poor thing,” the woman answered, brushing the hair away from the woman’s face tenderly. “She at least appears to be doing so peacefully.” The vampire bristled at the older woman’s touch, a small warning hiss passing her lips. He sighed before turning to her.

“How many times do I have to tell you, there is no harm to either one of you while you are here?” he waved dismissively at her bound hands. “Your current state of detainment is merely on account of your own attitude of harm towards us. That’s it.” Again, the vampire’s eyes blinked from green to black. She parted her lips just enough to show her fangs growing down from her teeth. He knew she’d kill them in a second. What he found interesting is why she would.

His musings were cut short by a soft glow behind him. Turning, he could see the sleeping woman encompassed by a strange light. It glowed so densely black that for a moment, he lost sight of the woman—it was as if night had fallen about them. Startled, he and his companion found themselves pushed to the other side of the tent, watching with insecurity. It pulsed, inhaling and exhaling as it pulsed tighter and denser, pulling in its edges from the tent until it had cocooned about the woman and the bed. With a final pulse, the black light dissipated.

“Merciful Goddess, what was that?” the older woman proclaimed, a hand tightly clutched at her heart. He felt he should know, as it felt familiar, but at the same time, it seemed so very foreign to him. Cautiously, he took a step forward, eying the woman. He knelt beside the cot, laying a hand on her arm. Her golden lashes fluttered before finally opening. She blinked a few times, confusion on her face. Slowly, she turned her head to look at him. He was struck by her copper eyes, emotional that he had thought he'd never see them again, that he had doubted that she would be different. For as soon as those wonderfully golden orbs connected with his, he knew it was his lady that he had searched so long for.

“Do I know you?” she asked in a harsh whisper. Wrinkles appeared between her eyes as she seemed to try to remember. “I feel like I know you.” He smiled softly.

“Aye, you should. It’s me, my love. It’s Dinasis.” Her eyes widened.

Cyla stared at the man crouched beside her in shock. Dinasis Denor? She’d found him? No, he had found her, actually. She looked at him, trying to recognize him since he seemed to know her. His hair was gray and fell to his shoulders. He had piercing silver eyes and thin lips among the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. Although, looking at him, she wondered when the last time he had smiled or laughed had been. She could see the sorrow hidden in his features. His arms were muscular and a burnt tan in a sleeveless tunic. Yet his hands were gentle on her arm. He slid a hand down her arm to her hand and wrapped her fingers in his, causing strange sparks to light underneath her skin. This was new and yet felt familiar as well. Who was this man? She realized then how little she knew; she only knew his name, and that was from Mika.

A shuffling from behind him drew her eyes and she saw Bug there, hands bound, on a cot across from her. The sight of all the blood coating her offset the joy she felt. She pulled her hand from Dinasis’ and lurched from off the cot. Stumbling forward and trying to ignore the strong hands gripping her midsection to hold her up, she made it across the tent. Grabbing Bug’s hands in hers, she looked into her friend’s eyes.

“Are you alright?” she asked, once again taking in the blood splatter. Bug’s eyes were wide as she regarded her, but there was relief in the corners of them.

“I am now,” Bug said, leaning her forehead down to rest on Cyla’s crown. “You worried me, stupid. It's been days and all you did was sleep. Then there was this light that turned black. I thought maybe you had died and I was going to have to break my vow and kill everyone here.” Cyla chuckled (despite the confusion she felt at her words) and looked up at the vampire.

“Now we can’t have that, can we?” She wet her thumb and tried to rub the blood off the girl’s cheek. “You really need a bath,” she chuckled. A glint of metal caught her eye and she looked down at the silver cord wrapped around the vampire’s wrists. She tugged at them questioningly. Surely, these couldn’t hold a vampire.

“They’ve been spelled. They’re virtually indestructible. She—” Dinasis paused, sucking his teeth for a moment, “was a little unreasonable about letting people get close to you. Even if it was for medical attention.” Bug hissed at him, causing a small smile on Cyla’s face. It seemed that the vampire harbored her own slice of skepticism.

“I can’t say I blame her,” Cyla retorted, feeling her usual self stir. She threw a critical eye at the tall, silver-eyed man. “What did you do to us?” Dinasis at least had the good sense to look sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“It was a sleeping spell. I had a witch use it on the both of you after I saw how not only well you two fought, but,” he cleared his throat, “hmmm, aggressively. I didn’t think you’d take kindly to not only our appearance so suddenly but the need to keep our location a secret would require blindfolding you. We didn’t think in such a heightened state you would allow that. Especially not your friend here. So, spell it was.” He shrugged apologetically, and while Cyla wanted to believe he meant no harm, she couldn’t push away that independent side that had kept her alive for years. She stood, drawing as much of her height up as she could, and fixed him with a stern look.

“Whatever your reasons then, surely they do not hold now. I’d ask you to release my companion. Now.” She planted her hips firmly and folded her arms, mustering every ounce of quickly depleting energy she could. Dinasis gave her a once over silently before nodding.

“Of course,” he stated flatly. Cyla didn’t care to wonder why he seemed so bothered by her just now, not when he had been so affectionate earlier. She watched with eagle eyes as he motioned to the older woman. She walked up to Bug and wrapped her hands gently around her wrists.

“Now, I trust you are going to behave if I take these off,” the woman chided like a grandmother. Bug lifted an eyebrow silently, as if holding back a laugh, and smiled.

“Of course.” The corner of the woman’s mouth tweaked slightly, clearly just as amused. She whispered a few words and the silver rope untied itself and dropped away. The woman stood and brushed a strand of greying brown hair behind her ear. “Now, you stink and are dreadful to look at. Why don’t you come get cleaned up and then you can help me bring back some food for yourself and your friend. You two must be famished. You need to regain your strength.” Bug’s eyes darted uncertainly between Cyla, Dinasis, and the woman. The woman chuckled again. “You have nothing to fear. Your friend couldn’t be anywhere safer than she is right now.” Slowly, with encouragement from Cyla, Bug stood and made her way to the tent entrance. The old woman nodded respectfully to Dinasis before she followed the vampire out of the tent—leaving Cyla and the man alone.

The tension was thick, Cyla sitting on the cot Bug had been on and Dinasis standing awkwardly across from her. Every time her gaze returned to him from glancing around, he seemed deep in thought. And an unreadable expression was cemented to his face.

“Dinasis,” she finally said, breaking the silence. Apparently, this startled him as he jumped slightly.

“Din. Please call me Din,” he said, relaxing. A sad smile on his handsome face.

“Din,” she said, nodding. This seemed to please him somehow as the smile turned more genuine. “Where are we? I’d say somewhere important, given the manner we were brought here.” She tilted her head slightly, hearing the sounds of life outside the tent. Din shuffled his feet and nodded hesitantly.

“We’re at the base camp,” he stated simply.

“Base camp?” Cyla rolled the words in her mouth as she spoke. Was the rumor about him being the leader of a resistance true?

“All in due time,” he said dismissively. “First, why don’t you eat?” He motioned to the entrance of the tent where a freshly washed Bug (dressed in a new, simple, blue dress) and the old woman were returning. They each had a plate piled with meats, fruits, and breads. A woman of dark complexion followed behind them carrying two mugs. Cyla took the food and mug cautiously. Sparing a glance at Bug as her friend sat beside her again, she sipped at the cup. She was quite surprised at the perfect mix of apples and spice that greeted her tongue.

“That’s our prized cider. The recipe’s a long-kept family recipe,” the other woman said, puffing her chest with pride. Cyla smiled a small smile in agreement at the younger woman.

“It's delicious—”

“Victoria”

“Victoria. It’s quite lovely. My thanks and may The Goddess bless you with good fortune.” Victoria bowed her head slightly.

“As I hope she keeps you in her favor.” With another bow, the two women left once more. Cyla’s acceptance seemed to be all Bug was waiting for. She quickly started eating at the bread (though blood was a vampire’s best source of nutrition, they could still eat human food and gain a bit of nourishment—and a full belly). Din finally sat across from them, watching them closely. Cyla would peek at him every now and then, the thoughtful, painful look on his face again. Something about the intensity of it made her blush—just a little.

“Are you going to tell me what you meant by ‘base camp’ yet?” she asked quietly as she swallowed the last of her cider.

“Base camp?” Bug asked, looking between the two. “You really call this a base camp? Cyla, you must see it. It’s remarkable!”

“We might as well show her, don’t you think?” Din said with a sigh and a groan as he stood. Setting her plate aside, Cyla stood to follow him when she saw her cloak draped across a trunk. She felt silly at how happy she was to see it, but quickly brushed it aside. Though she still wore her customary black pants and tunic, her cloak was as familiar as a limb to her. She took the few steps towards it, lifting it gingerly. It was patched in a few places where it’d been damaged in the battle with Luka but seemed otherwise good. She found her boots beside the trunk and stepped into them gracefully. Finally, draping the cloak on her shoulders and twisting the clip at her neck, she felt secure.

She turned back to the waiting Din and Bug, wordlessly declaring her readiness. She didn’t miss the dark look in Din’s strange silver eyes as they fell on the emblem of The Blood Moons. “Shall we?” she pressed when he remained silent. Bug’s scurrying past him to her seemed to have shaken him from his thoughts as he wordlessly held the tent flap open. Bug linked her arm through Cyla’s and eagerly pulled her out.

The encampment was larger than she expected. People bustled here and there, some stopping to chat while others were more singularly minded. Cyla noticed weapons strapped to some. Yet when she looked at others, especially quite a few men, a dangerous aura wafted off them. She was sure these people were shifters. Their power always gave off differently than vampires or witches. She marked them mentally, remembering to steer clear of them. The ranges in ages around her amazed Cyla the most. Elders with white hair and winkled skin sat outside tents on flat stools padded with blankets. They talked and laughed and told stories to young ones while they wove clothing or blankets. Adults in all stages of life hurried here and there, some cooking, some sewing, some repairing things around the encampment. And then there were the children. The laughter of young life came from babies and toddlers while teenagers chased them, herding them away from the adults or the animals.

“Isn’t it wonderful, Cyla?” Bug asked with a heartfelt sigh.

Cyla stopped walking to watch a group of little girls braiding each other’s hair. “What is this place really?” she asked softly, smiling despite her general attitude towards people. She could see Dinasis glance down at her from the corner of her eye.

“Really? Well, while we call it a base camp, it’s more a refuge; a safe place.” Bug slipped her arm out of Cyla’s and stepped forward, helping one of the girls braid a purple wildflower into the crown of hair on another girl.

“A refuge? Why do these people need refuge?” Cyla asked, dreading that she already knew the answer. A brunette girl at the end of the braiding line motioned, and Cyla’s eyes widened to see a pink little flower float towards an identical brunette girl at the beginning.

“That’s why,” Din motioned to the floating flower. “All these people are unique, one way or another. We have witches.” He moved his hand to point to a group of people off to the side that were chanting over some leather. “We have shifters.” A group of people walked towards the forest. One second, they were people standing there, and the next, they had stripped down and a group of wolves, large cats, bears, and even dogs ran into the brush. “We even have vampires.” Studiously, Cyla watched as yet another group (albeit a smaller group) grabbed small animals and bit down into their necks. She assumed they drank them dry before starting to skin them and prepare them for the mid-day meal. “Everyone has their place here.”

“Bug believes the Blood Moons to be the reason supernaturals live in secret.” Cyla struggled to say, picking at her thumbnail as she noticed the variety of looks thrown at her. Some were glares, some nervous, but most were just watchful, their eyes never leaving her or the emblem that began to feel like it was burning into her shoulder. She resisted the urge to gather the edges of her cloak and wrap herself tightly in them.

“Bug?” Din asked. Cyla looked at him incredulously.

“Yes, Bug. My companion that you spelled to get here and then tied up. Remember her?” Dinasis chuckled, shaking his head. He brushed his hair back with both hands before exhaling and smiling at her.

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Why should I?” Cyla found bravery in this distraction, turning to face him head on. He held his hands up, waving his surrender almost immediately.

“No, no, I guess you have all right to remain suspicious. But Bug—Bug? Really? That’s her name?” Cyla’s eyes began to burn, lightening from amber to gold as she stared directly at him.

“Yes. That is her name.”

“Rather peculiar name, don’t you think?”

“She isn’t particularly fond of her given name.” Dinasis c****d his head to the side, regarding her with both amusement and curiosity.

“Why is that?”

“You’d have to ask her.” Cyla swung back around, turning her gaze back to her friend. He cleared his throat awkwardly as though to say he understood what she was saying: this subject was now closed.

“Bug is correct. Everyone here is having to hide from the Blood Moons guild. For no reason other than existing, they are being hunted down by people such as yourself, all in the guild’s name. So, we have provided multiple safe locations for all supernaturals. This one is merely the largest location.” Cyla mulled his words silently.

“We? Who is we?” she finally asked, glancing up at him from the corner of her eye. He seemed startled by her question.

“Did I say we?” he stumbled. “I-I meant, I have created these refuges.” He cleared his throat again while looking away, unable to meet her gaze. Before she could press on this strange behavior more, Bug pranced up to her.

“Cyla, look! They changed my dress! With magic!” Bug spun, showing the now flawlessly red and flowing dress. The corner of Cyla’s mouth twitched. But when Bug stopped spinning, a toothy grin on her face, Cyla couldn’t keep the rest back. “Isn’t that amazing?! It’s my favorite dress, it’s so perfect.” Cyla grabbed Bug's hands, stopping her from bouncing.

“It’s perfect for you.” Cyla touched Bug's face, forcing her to calm for a second. “Really, The Goddess knows how I deal with you. You’re like a small girl instead of an undying being older than I am.” Bug rolled her eyes. She linked arms once more and pecked Cyla on the cheek.

“And you love me all the more for it, I know it.” Dinasis chuckled at the vampire’s impish behavior, gaining him Cyla’s white-hot glare. He choked slightly, taking an involuntary step back.

“Sh-should we continue?” he asked. Cyla rolled her eyes, but Bug seemed to be unable to contain her excitement anymore and started dragging the girl with her after Din. They walked through the rest of the camp. Cyla noticed that though during the day the people commingled harmoniously, at night it appeared they would retreat to their own sections. The tents were color coded with varying shades of grays and greens, ensuring that everyone knew what type of supernatural slept within. Perhaps this is how they kept such harmony with so many clashing personalities and instincts. Especially the vampires and shifters, Cyla thought. She knew that vampires and shifters were natural enemies—after the common threat of humans, obviously. Witches tended to be suspicious of everyone, supernatural and human alike. Dinasis must have worked some wonders to get everyone to get along.

“How do you do it?” she suddenly asked, watching an elder shifter tell a group of children she suspected to be a mix of witches and shifters a story. Din looked at her curiously. Bug had skipped off again, joining the children on the grass.

“Ah, you are thinking of all that training they gave you at the guild. Something like each species can’t get along with the next and getting them together always creates bloodshed, hmmm?” Cyla hated to feel the heat raise up the back of her neck as she felt she was being teased and mocked. Why did this man create so many emotions within her, emotions she had always controlled? “Well, to be honest, they choose to.” Dinasis laid a large hand on her shoulder. Cyla’s eyes grew slightly at the sudden intrusion, so surprised she almost missed his words. “To be honest, while The Blood Moons is wrong about many things, they weren’t wrong about that. But each person here has been persecuted, hated, hunted for so long, they decided that living with their natural enemies was a better choice. Think about that-- life is so bad, you’d rather live with someone else you hate than live at all.” Din paused thoughtfully. “Everyone here has a place and a purpose, and so we work.” He looked down at her, his face barely holding some strange emotion back. “You could have a place here, if you wish. Bug is welcome as well.”

Cyla tore her eyes away and looked at the ground. His words and his eyes kept stirring something in her heart. And it scared her, since she’d long thought her heart dead. His touch felt familiar as well and yet uncomfortable because she couldn’t understand where she would have known him. That information must have been what Mika knew, and it was now lost to her. Just as he was. At the thought of Mika, pain twisted in her belly and she shifted out from under his hand. “I don’t know why you would want one of the enemy in your camp,” she said in a clipped manner. “As for Bug, I can’t speak for her. She always has and always will do whatever she wants.” She took a deep centering breath. “I have been looking for you for years.”

He seemed happily surprised with this statement for some reason. “You have?” Cyla nodded sharply.

“Someone I loved very much told me to find you on his dying breath. So, I have been looking as he wished. I don’t know why he wanted me to find you. I will stay here long enough to find out why, and not a moment more.” She forced herself to look away from Din and the panic in his eyes. Her cloak whipped around her as she marched away from him.

As she passed the edge of the camp, Cyla felt a tugging at her gut. Recognizing this as the instinct she’d lived by for years, she stopped. Looking around, she noticed a cage hidden off in the trees. As if they had a will of their own, Cyla’s legs carried her towards the cage.

A blanket was thrown over the top, but she could still hear clanging as whatever was in there moved around. She knelt down in front of it, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. Gripping the corner of the blanket, she lifted it up just enough to peek inside. Whatever it was slammed against the cage, startling her. As she fell back onto her ass, the blanket ripped off. There inside was a black wolf as large as a small bear. It snarled and snapped at her, rushing the bars repeatedly. Cyla watched with wide eyes, noticing the startling blue eyes with a white patch around one. Her mind rushed back to the men at Tom’s inn and their story of the large wolf. Connecting it to the descriptions recently sent to her, and it clicked in her mind.

“Luka?” she croaked. Suddenly, a pair of hands lifted her up and pulled her back. Bug slipped around her, one arm keeping Cyla behind her as the vampire took a defensive stance. A snarl slipped from her. Din suddenly stepped up next to them, a solemn look on his face.

“He shifted shortly after you knocked him unconscious. And because you did that, it was easy enough to bring him back here. Well, as easy as it is to carry a wolf his size as dead weight. But when he awoke, he refused to shift back.” Din sighed, rubbing a hand against his face. Cyla found herself filled with dread. He’s shifted into his animal form. In his current animalistic state, she knew he may never come back to humanity. “We had hoped to be able to reach him eventually, bring him out of his feral state. But I fear he may be too far deep. Goddess help us if we can’t.” Din’s eyes turned dark and sad. “I’ve never had to kill one of our own before,” he whispered.

Something about hearing that changed the dread in Cyla to panic. “No!” she surprised herself by yelling. She shoved herself past Bug, turning so she had placed herself between Luka and the other two. “You can’t!” Din and Bug stared at her in shock.

“Cyla,” Bug whispered. Cyla heard shock in her voice. “Your eyes, they’re nearly white. And your hands. What in The Goddess’ name is happening?” Looking down, Cyla noticed that black flames were forming around her hands. She glanced up at them. Bug looked awed while a look of confusion and sadness had taken over Dinasis.

“I-I don’t know,” she muttered, the flames fading away. Din chewed his lip a moment.

“How old are you?” he asked suddenly. Cyla blinked. It’d been a while since she’d even kept count. Birthdays hadn't really meant anything to her since Mika’s death. She thought back.

“I guess I turned twenty-four today,” she finally answered. Din nodded, looking past her.

“I guess we have more to discuss and with less time than I thought.” Cyla looked back at Luka’s wolf. He’d quieted, standing perfectly still while staring at her with his bright eyes. A growl escaped his throat before he turned and laid down, back to her. For some reason, this made her sad.

Dear Goddess, what is happening to me?