Excerpt

Fewa Yemini pressed the tender soles of her feet against the balm of cool earth. Her ankles were swollen, her breathing cut short by the swell of life within her. Still, she was grateful the weight of her daughter pressed against her rib cage had not crossed the threshold from discomfort to pain. Fewa's second child was already a week past her due date.

"Perhaps more bed rest," the first of three midwives mused. Yet's noble women were used to being waited upon at almost every turn, even more so when they were pregnant, but Fewa had not been born into these customs. Her love for Bayissa Ejigu, her partner in life if not in marriage and the father of her children, had forced her into this decadent life. As the pregnant companion of the next Governor of Nor, she was expected to be in an almost perpetual state of recline, but Fewa had had enough of lying down.

"I need to walk!" she'd insisted to Bayissa and the midwives who hovered over her bed like gnats.

"It may not be safe for the child," Bayissa pleaded, his arms clasped tightly across his chest.

"If I stay here a moment longer, it might not be safe for you!"

When it was clear that no one would see reason, Fewa stood, fastened her dagger at her hip, and swung her quiver and bow across her chest, ignoring the gasps of outrage as she passed.

They don't know anything, she thought bitterly. Movement was the way of her people when a woman's time was near.

As soon as she kicked off her shoes and stepped from the hard stones of their courtyard into the forest, Fewa knew she had made the right decision. Her breathing deepened. Her muscles relaxed in response to the ancient wisdom that called her to a place where nature kept the balance.

The previous night's rain mixed with the late morning sun to cast everything around her in a prism of green and yellow light. The branches of the trees hung low with moisture and Fewa relished the feel of the wet leaves as they brushed against her face and shoulders. With each step, Fewa felt her child ease into the position needed to bring her safely into the world.

Lulled by the splendor of the forest, she lost track of how long she walked before a keening whimper pierced her silent revelry. Though Fewa did not know its source, her heart broke all the same. It was the sound of defeat and a slow, unnatural surrender to death. She crept forward, searching, but the longer she looked the more elusive the sound became. A shimmer of fear rippled through the forest. Fewa drew her dagger from its sheath and held it out like a shield with one hand while the other rested on her belly where her daughter began to stir.

The animal's cries had ceased by the time she found them – a mother wolf and her four pups dead or dying as she held them close to her body. Fewa stood in disbelief. What animal could have done this, she wondered. Only when she saw the boot prints around the den did her sorrow boil over into anger. This was no animal attack. A human had done this.

For centuries, the Amasiti revered the wolf as a symbol of wisdom, cunning, and transformative power. To find a mother and her pups on the brink of death felt like sacrilege – a defilement of wisdom itself. Many things had changed since the time of the Amasiti, but it was still forbidden to kill the young of any animal. Everyone knew this. But someone apparently did not care.

Who could do such a thing?

The glint of her blade trembled in her shaking hand.

The answer came in the form of two men stomping their boots through the forest. A burly man with the Hir's sigil hammered across the bloodied armor at his chest appeared first. His eyes were fixed on the tangled brush below his feet. Behind him walked a slightly shorter man wearing a cloak of fine black and red suede with a hood that draped low against his long and sullen face. They were so engrossed in conversation that at first they did not see her.

"See, Nebiri! If you'd listened to me and brought the skinning knife with you in the first place, we'd be halfway home by now," the larger man chided.

"You worry too much, Lem," Nebiri replied. "Even if we get caught by my father's men, what can they do? I am the Hir's only son! Besides, I don't want all that blood in my carriage. If we cut the skins up here, no one will know about the pups."

When Nebiri finished speaking he looked up to find Fewa crouched in front of the wolves. Though her eyes blazed with fury, it was the sharp dagger raised between them that the men noticed first.

"You dare return to repay one crime with another!" Fewa's voice rumbled in her chest.

"Step aside, woman," Nebiri replied dismissively. "Or you will meet the same fate as the wolf."

When she stayed rooted to the spot, Lem pointed the long, curved edge of his shotel towards her. "Move along. It's the skins we want, not you."

Fewa's legs tensed as a sudden surge of water rushed down the inside of her thighs. Slowly, she unfurled from her stance, allowing her arms to hang loosely at her sides while she pushed out a long breath to ease her contraction.

Standing beside his guardsman, Nebiri was no longer so sure they could let Fewa go.

At first glance, he'd dismissed her as a commoner who would easily be cowed by his command. But once he took the time to actually see her, he realized his mistake. A woman. A pregnant woman, at that. She should be frail and bed-ridden, but she was none of those things. Her manner of dress went against the style and custom of almost every noblewoman he knew, yet the quality of her attire told him that she was acquainted with both means and power. There was only one thing a woman like her could be.

Tales of the Amasiti were few and often half-told. Most read like fairytales. Still, Neberi knew every one by heart. As a boy he studied the texts his ancestors had gathered with a passion that very little else in his life inspired. With gold bangles at her feet and wrists and cowry shells and bells twisted into her hair, he had no doubt the woman before him was one of them.

Does she have power? He wondered. Most believed that any Amasiti with useful magic had ascended long ago prompting the Hirs, like his father, to stop searching for their remnants. Nebiri had always felt his father was, like so many others, making a foolish mistake, and now the evidence was right before his eyes.

"No!" Nebiri said. His voice was cool and steady. "She will come with us or we will grant her no mercy."

Fewa smiled despite the sweat on her brow. "Nor will I ask for any."

Lem shrugged his broad shoulders and charged.

Ready, she swung her arm around and let her dagger loose. It soared through the air like a flash of lightning before burying itself deep into Lem's left eye. He dropped to the ground in mid-stride.Nebiri looked down at his guard in shock for only a moment, but it was still a moment too long. By the time his eyes returned to her, Fewa had an arrow aimed at his heart.

"Drop your weapon," she commanded. Nebiri seethed, gripping the skinning knife in his hand. Behind Fewa, the wolf mother's eyes bore into him, baring her teeth through shallow, labored breaths.This was not a fight he could win. Not today. But I will not forget this, he thought. If Father will not act, I will.

"Forgive me, Mother," he offered smoothly. The skinning knife dropped from his outstretched hands. "We meant no offense."

Sheer determination kept Fewa's arms from trembling as pain and the chill of a new threat coursed through her.

He knows. He wants me to know he knows.

If she hadn't been in the throes of labor, she might've killed him just to keep her secret. The secret of her daughter. But she could not justify killing him without cause.

If he takes one step towards me, I will be within my rights, Fewa thought. She held her bow taut and waited.

A knowing smile slithered across Nebiri's face. I will not make it that easy for you. He took two steps back before turning and running away. I will be back for you.

Despite the lingering threat in his words, relief flooded her shaking limbs. Fewa knew she could not afford a fight in her condition. As soon as she lost sight of him through the trees, Fewa fell. The pain seized her back so fiercely she had to grit her teeth and dig into the ground to keep from screaming. When it subsided, she closed her eyes and rolled to her side, collapsing into a small puddle of wet sickly liquid. Fewa's eyes flew open and found a trail of blood before her.

The wolves.

All four pups now lay still just outside their mother's reach. The mother wolf held Fewa's gaze as she lifted to reveal a fifth pup hidden beneath her. The pup was weak and wounded, but very much alive. Agony seized Fewa again before she could decipher the reason the wolf had revealed her last remaining child.

But this time the pain was different. In addition to the deep pulling of her womb, there was a burning between her legs.My child is coming!Fear gripped her as Fewa realized that she was too far away for anyone she knew to help her. In the back of her mind, she knew this was all happening too quickly, faster than it should have, but there was nothing she could do to stop it now. Shutting her eyes again, Fewa shifted her weight, preparing to get on her knees.

If I can brace myself against the tree, lock my arms within its branches, the roots will help me stand. The branches could hold me up while I push the baby out, the old way.

But she barely had the strength to kneel, let alone stand. And when the time came, Fewa knew she could not trust herself to bear the pain and catch the baby.

No, she decided. Stay on the ground. Another contraction took hold before she could catch her breath, bringing more pain. She screamed through the burning in her loins as blood and fluid rushed from her body. She needed to push.

"Help me, Mother!" Fewa gasped. "Please! Spare my daughter!" Shaking uncontrollably, she managed to rock herself onto her back again. Propping herself up on her elbows, she spread her legs wide.

"Amalaki, give me stren –" Fewa's voice caught in her throat as she watched the mother wolf rise. Just below the wolf's rib cage a deep wound dripped blood as she hobbled towards the space between Fewa's legs with the wolf pup, her last living child, dangling from her maw.

Horror struck Fewa. Will she feed her young by devouring mine?

Before Fewa could close her legs, pain gripped her, pulling her open from the inside.

She had to push.

"Please," she sobbed as the wolf settled down between her legs. Delirious, she bore down. Protect your child, Amalaki. She is your daughter. The last of our line!

The mother wolf ducked her head beneath Fewa's dress, coarse fur brushing against her calves and thighs.

"No!" she screamed. "No!" Fewa dug her heels into the ground, trying to push her own body away, but it was no use. Halfway through her efforts a new wave of contractions came, and her body responded without her permission, pushing and tearing to bring new life forth.

"Don't!" Fewa pleaded. "Don't hurt my child!"

In the haze of silence that followed, the wolf raised its head with Fewa's daughter wriggling in her jaws. Fewa reached for her child with tears of gratitude, stunned as the mother wolf placed the baby gently in her arms.

"Thank you, Sister," she cried. "Thank you!"

Fewa watched the wolf in awe as it crawled back towards her feet, underneath her dress, and returned, carrying her own pup. Though the short distance was clearly agony to travel, the wolf did not stop until she came to Fewa's side. The wolf held her gaze once more as she lowered her own pup onto Fewa's chest.

Understanding dawned as the Mother wolf's eyes began to fade before her.

"Yes," Fewa whispered. "I will see that she survives so that one day she may avenge you."With a shudder the wolf collapsed. Fewa saw the struggle and grief in the wolf's eyes as she lifted her great paw and placed it across both children at Fewa's breast. At first, the pressure felt too great, like a surge of sharp pain coursing through her. Before she could move the little ones away, she looked up and found the wolf staring at her with no light left in her strange golden eyes.

It was some time before Fewa had recovered enough to carry both babes, swaddled together in the blue shawl she'd worn across her hips. As she approached the edge of the forest, Fewa marveled that, though the force of the wolf's jaws should have left Ameenah scarred, she could not find a single blemish on her.