Daughter of Three Suns

Chapter 25

My body's needs finally forced me to end my vigil. Hunger and thirst raged through me, and I swayed with dizziness when I stood. My muscles screamed in protest, either from running up and down flights of stairs, using my weapons, or sitting in one position too long. Whatever the reason, I had never felt this weak or vulnerable since my Metanora.

The small rock island was close by. I entered it in search of food and water. Appa and rubus vines had almost overgrown the small interior, and the pond was full of fish. I cleaned leaves from the small spring, drank until my thirst was gone, then gorged on ripe appa and rubus berries. Then, I crawled onto the same ledge where I had slept before. My name was still there, carved into the stone below Rosalie's. I traced the letters, trying to remember how eager I had been to step through the doorway and find my basherter. Now, all I felt was sadness. Curling up on the hard stone, I fell asleep.

Hunger woke me. My body needed more than just fruit and berries, so I took the time to gather dried vines and started a fire. When it died down to a layer of hot coals, I laid the two fish I had caught, cleaned, and wrapped in wet kowi leaves on top of the coals. While they baked, I gathered fanio seeds and more appa and rubus. I ate and drank until I could hold no more, then I left to continue my vigil in front of the marker stones.

Time ceased to have any meaning. Wake cycles, work cycles, sleep cycles—none of them meant anything to me. Grandmother Sun continued her circling, and Daughter Sun blazed overhead, but I paid them no heed. I ate, slept, and kept vigil in front of the portal, trying to keep that spark of hope alive that it would somehow open for me again.

Sometimes, I walked back and forth through the stone markers. I studied the engravings on them, looking for some clue that might tell me how it could be opened. Other times, I called out to Grandmother Spirit, begging for forgiveness. I rubbed the dull circle on my chest over and over while I chanted the three blessings and the three prayers. I cried. I mourned.

After a while, it became clear that I could no longer stay at the small island. Even with the increased growth caused by Daughter Sun, I was eating more than the island could produce. My almost constant hunger was quickly stripping the island of food, and my presence was also disturbing the natural rhythm of the animals that came there to drink and eat. I would have to leave and go to a much larger island. The closest one was where the sand cats lived.

I could sense the island in my head. I knew where it was and how to get there. It was just as Rosalie had said. The map of my surroundings was in my mind. The island seemed much farther away than I remembered however. I made plans to move. Several kowi gourds were hollowed out to carry water. Rubus berries, appa, and strips of fish were dried in the sun. I wove a carry pouch from vines to store my provisions and found a stout, sturdy appa stalk to use as a walking staff.

My old staff lay on top of the mound of sand that marked James' resting place. The knife at the end had shattered when it entered his body, and the knob was covered with dried blood. I wished neither to use it nor see it again. The shifting sands were gradually covering it, and I was glad.

When all my preparations were finished, I stared at the opening one last time, then started my journey to the other island.

…..

It took much longer this time. There was no sense of urgency driving me onward, and I seemed to tire more quickly than before. Gradually, the quiet and serenity of the desert began to work its magic on me. My meals were eaten while sitting atop tall dunes, feeling the breeze against my skin and listening to the songs of the desert. Grandmother Sun circled the horizon as I walked, her face almost hidden by the glare of Daughter Sun who, I now realized, had moved closer to one edge of the sky. My heart began to know peace.

By the time I reached the sand cat's island, I was out of food and water. I stumbled into the opening, hoping I would be welcomed or at least allowed to enter. I had no strength left to defend myself.

Vines had grown to the top of the cavern where they twined into a thick mat that shaded the interior. The coolness was welcome as I crept cautiously along the wall opposite the cave where I had last seen the mother cat. I heard a sharp huff and looked around to find her watching me from rocks edging the pool. Her cubs scurried to hide behind her as she rose to face me.

The ruff of fur around her head bristled, and I heard a low warning growl. Slowly, carefully, I edged backward, trying to move into full sunshine. She took a menacing step toward me, then suddenly stopped. I could see her breathing deeply, drawing my scent into her lungs. "Great Mother," I spoke softly. "Will you let me enter? I am in great need of water and food."

We stared at each other for a time, and then, with a casual flick of her tail, she turned and padded back to her rocks. Another softer huff brought her children from their hiding place and back to their play. I slid along the wall, gathering appa and rubus berries as I went, then descended the stairs to the caves and the cool water below.

The spring was still running, the water clear and cold. I drank my fill, then stripped off my clothing and sank into the soaking pool below it. I was filthy. My skin was covered in sweat and dust. Dried blood still spotted my neck and belly. My claws were chipped and worn.

My shift was in even worse shape. The edges were frayed and torn. The hole Edward had cut was stained dark red. I pulled it into the water with me and tried to clean it, but it did little good. Soon, I'd need to make myself new clothing. A nearby rock bench, warmed by the heat of Daughter Sun, beckoned. I stretched out on it and was soon asleep.

…..

The first thing I saw when I awoke was a fish's head, its dead eye staring into mine. I sat up with a startled cry. My movement surprised the small cub who watched me from across the room. It bounded up the stairs and disappeared. The head was part of a whole fish, and two more lay on the rock beside me. My stomach growling in hunger, I made quick work of it, using the last of my throwing knives to slice thin strips of its fresh flesh. Water and berries finished my meal.

The sand cat family greeted me from across the inner pond when I emerged from the underground stairs. The mother lounged on her rocks, and her babies played around her. All three watched curiously as I took the remains of my fish and tossed them onto the sands beyond the entrance. "Thank you for my meal," I told them when I returned. "And for granting me sanctuary," I added. Then I set about making myself a home.

I searched all the old cave homes and finally selected one that was close to the stairs leading to the underground caves. It was much like those of my home island: a gathering room at the entrance, and two more rooms that opened from it. Storage niches lined the walls. I found a few well-worn but still intact stone bowls and a slab that might have once been used as a tabletop.

Work filled my time, occupied my hands, and distracted my mind. I harvested fanio grains and ground them into meal. The reeds were woven into storage baskets, sleeping mats, and fabrics. Basket loads of berries and appa were picked and carried to the island top where they dried in the hot sun. I trimmed away the old vines and broke them into pieces to feed my cook fires. Soon, my home was comfortable and filled with more food than I could possibly need.

One wake cycle, I sat sewing strips of fabric to make a bigger shift for myself when one of the cubs approached me. This had happened before. Both of them seemed curious about my activities and had started following me as I moved around the island. One of them was larger, bolder, and watched me more intently.

This time, it followed my thread as it moved across the ground in front of me. A tiny paw swatted at the thread. I jerked it hard and laughed when the cub scrambled to catch the thread. Another jerk and it pounced. The pounce landed the cub in the middle of my lap. It would have been hard to say which of us was more startled as we stared at each other.

Up close, I could see its green eyes were lined with long lashes as golden as its fur. The pointed ears were filled with fine hairs, and more fine hair fringed the tops. Coarser, longer hair grew around its nose and mouth. My hand was against one side of its body, and I couldn't resist rubbing it slightly. Its fur was just as soft as I imagined.

Across the pond, its mother rose to her feet, watching us intently. I thought the cub would leave, but it seemed happy to be where it was. It settled down in my lap, turning its belly up, and snuggling against my body. My hand hovered above it. Two front paws wrapped around my wrist, pulling on my hand. Tentatively, I stroked its soft belly, then scratched under its chin. My attention seemed to please it. A soft rumbling sound shook its chest as it stretched languidly in my lap. Satisfied that its child was in no danger, the mother cat settled back down on her resting place.

Holding the sand cat in my lap was a strange experience. Peace and contentment flowed through me, and I realized how much I'd missed the touch of another living thing. I was reminded of the painting on the wall of Irina's island that showed a young girl with a cat in her lap. I understood why she would want to hold it.

Thinking about the painting brought back other feelings and memories that I'd been trying hard to forget. I wondered if enough time had passed for Rosalie to have her baby. What had she named my new niece? I thought, too, of the women I had rescued and of Esme. How were they adjusting to being back on this world?

As far as I knew, most of Emmett's people escaped through the door and came here. I wondered if they had stayed at my home or had they left to live in their own bare-rock island? So many questions that I had no answers for and had been refusing to think about as I tried to forget everything that happened.

My thoughts were interrupted by the smaller cub as it slowly approached. Its eyes flickered between its sibling and me as it cautiously crept closer. I stilled my movements, waiting patiently for it to decide what to do. One small paw, then another stepped into the space between my folded knees. It curled in my lap, belly up just like its sibling. Now, both my hands rubbed and scratched. Across the pond, mother cat dozed, contented and relaxed, just like her babies that slept in my lap.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the warm rock behind me. Leaves rustled in the breeze overhead, the scent of blooming plants filled the air, and a fish splashed in the pond. It was peaceful, tranquil.

I had almost fallen asleep when I felt a slight stirring within me. My hand flew to my belly. The movement beneath my skin continued, a small rolling motion of something adjusting its position. It confirmed what my expanding stomach had been trying to tell me for some time. I was carrying my mate's child.

The thought of Edward brought tears to my eyes. I had tried for so long not to think of him. My tears soon turned to smiles however as thoughts of a little girl who looked like her father filled my mind.

While the cubs slept in my lap, I picked up my thread and fabric strips and started sewing again. I was going to need new clothes when I went back to my home island.

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Busy in the morning, so I'm sending this out tonight. Your comments and reviews mean so much to me. Thank you. Even though I may not respond, I read and appreciate each one. Thanks to Sally for cleaning my messes.