Page 86 of The Seeker
“If you get lost, those marks you’re making aren’t likely to help you find your way back,” she shouted.
“We better go,” Meera whispered.
They had walked for what felt like miles, their packs strapped to their backs, while Atawakabiche seemed to dance through the forest. She stepped lightly on fallen logs and through shallow snakelike streams. She always seemed to know where the high ground lay, because following her, nothing but Rhys’s feet got wet. She moved from mound to log to rock to log, never slowing, her fox companions following closely.
The Wolf had taken them on a circuitous route that Rhys suspected was designed to confuse and disorient.
The sun was high when the mound appeared before them. One moment they were walking along a narrow waterway, and the next they had ducked under a tilted cedar, and a massive earthen mound rose before them. The foxes ran ahead, clearly at home.
Atawakabiche turned and paused at the stone steps built into the mound. “You won’t be able to find this place again, not without my help. So don’t try to mark it in any way.”
“Thank you for welcoming us to your home, mother,” Meera said, still speaking French. “We will not intrude on your solitude.”
“Does the fire still burn in this place?” Rhys asked in the Old Language.
The traditional greeting seemed to please the Wolf. She nodded at him. “It does burn, and you are welcome to its light. You and your own.” Then she turned and walked up the steps.
Meera turned to Rhys. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Coming with me.”
“Did you honestly think I wouldn’t?”
“A mysterious woman shows up in the middle of the night and drags you away from the boat and guide we so carefully planned? You’d be more than justified to think I was crazy for following her.”
Rhys smiled. “Well, now you know. Even if I think you’re crazy, I’ll follow you.”
The edge of a smile teased her lips. “She thinks we’re mated. I tried to tell her otherwise, but—”
“We’rereshon. She senses the bond between us. Don’t you?”
Meera bit her lip, but she didn’t say anything.
“Stop fighting it.” Rhys bent down and kissed her lips. “And you’ll feel it.”
He took her hand and the path the Wolf had walked. The steps wrapped around the old earthwork, and Rhys saw bits of shell, bone, and rock sticking out of the soil. Moss and grasses grew from the sloped walls, and Rhys was surprised by how high the construction went.
How had they not seen this from their satellite maps?
When they reached the top, Rhys understood.
A dense canopy grew on all sides of the mound, which was built in a spiral pattern reminiscent of a snail’s shell. Because of the spiral and the trees growing in the space between, there was little to no sun on the mound. Only a few scattered patches were cleared so vegetable patches could grow.
Three round houses were built along the edge of the widest part. They were made of straight poles and smooth mud with Spanish moss filling the cracks in the walls and stiff palmetto leaves thatching the roof.
The Wolf pointed to the first. “This is my home. The second is a bathhouse and ritual room. The third is in the distance. You may use that one to sleep.”
“Thank you,” Meera said.
“Yes, thank you.” Rhys wondered just how long the Wolf planned for them to be there. He walked to the hut, surprised by the breeze that cooled the afternoon. Apparently even a slight elevation made a difference in the humidity and the temperature.
He brushed back the woven curtain hanging in front of the house to find a well-kept cottage with brushed earthen floors and high windows to let in the air and light. The breeze rustled the palmetto leaves covering the roof, and he set down his pack on a low bench.
There was a low wooden bed in the corner covered by a woven blanket, and grass mats covered the floor.
“This is quite nice,” Meera said.
