The Choosing (5 page)

Jerath takes one last look before turning and entering his house. He needs to wash and eat before he meets the girls. There’s no way they’ll come within twenty paces of him while he smells like this. His mother is out helping with the preparations, so he strips as soon as he closes the door. He tosses his clothes out the back of the house so they don’t make the inside smell.

It takes Jerath just over an hour to clean up and prepare some food. He’s clearing away the remains of his sandwich when there’s a knock on his door.

“Jerath?”

There’s another knock and Jerath hears his name again. He laughs and shakes his head—Serim is so impatient sometimes. He makes her wait a few seconds more before yanking the door open and smiling innocently at her.

“Very funny,” she mutters, and breezes past him into the house.

“I thought we were meeting at the edge of the village?” Jerath asks as he closes the door behind her.

“Change of plan.” She sits down at the table and huffs out a sigh.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “And where’s Mahli? Isn’t she supposed to be helping you?”

“Yes, but they needed extra help with some ceremony….” Serim waves her hands in the air. “
Stuff
. Apparently there’s another one whose fangs have come in.”

“Yeah, I know.” Jerath can’t stop the huge grin that spreads across his face as he thinks about Ghaneth.

“Oh no, it’s not one of Kyr’s little followers, is it?” Serim wrinkles her nose at the thought.

“Guess again.”

Serim looks up at him, staring intently, and Jerath can almost see her mind working. “Just tell me who it is, Jerath. And why are you smiling like that anyway?”

“Because the answer is going to make you very happy.”

Serim scoffs at him. “The only thing that would make me happy is if it was—” She sucks in a breath and jumps out of her chair. “It’s Ghaneth, isn’t it? Please, please, please tell me it’s Ghaneth.”

She’s practically jumping with excitement and Jerath laughs at her expression. “Yes, it’s Ghaneth. His fangs came in overnight.”

Serim lets out a very undignified squeal and jumps on Jerath so hard he stumbles as he tries to catch her in his arms.

“I told him you’d be happy.”

“Wait…. What? Jerath!” She eases herself out of his grip and slaps him on the arm. “You did not!”

“Yes, I did. He likes you too, so just relax.” Jerath rubs the top of his arm where it smarts still. “We can go see him if you like?”

“Definitely not!” Serim gestures to her clothes. She’s dressed in what Jerath can only describe as old rags, and her long, thick hair is piled high on top of her head in a ratty-looking bun. “I’m dressed for fishing, Jerath. There is no way I want Ghaneth to see me like this. Especially not now!”

Jerath grabs Serim’s hand and picks up the bags and wrappings she brought for carrying the fish back afterward. “Let’s go, then. The sooner we get your chores done, the sooner you can go see Ghaneth.”

Serim eagerly agrees, but insists on sneaking out of the village, hiding behind houses, bushes, and even a line full of drying clothes. All so they don’t run into Ghaneth. Jerath is openly laughing at her by the time they make it to the relative safety of the woods, and she glares at him and sticks out her tongue.

“Last one to the lakes has to gut the fish!” Serim shouts over her shoulder as she tears off into the trees.

“But it’s not even my job!” Jerath complains. He grumbles under his breath before chasing after her. The breeding pools are at least an hour away, and there’s no way Serim can run all the way unless she…
oh
, she’s such a cheater. Jerath spies a bundle of clothes on a rock ten paces ahead of him and he stops to pick them up. “Serim!” he shouts into the trees. “Serim! That’s not fair, you know!” He hears a low, rumbling growl off to his right, and he swears it sounds like she’s laughing at him. “I’ve a good mind to leave your clothes here!”

He shakes his head, vowing that there’s absolutely no way he’s gutting any of the fish Serim catches, and traipses after her through the woods.

B
Y
THE
time Jerath reaches the fishing lakes, Serim is asleep. He huffs as he spots the black panther sprawled out on one of the large rocks around the edge of the water. She’s lazily soaking up the late afternoon sun, and Jerath knows that if he runs a hand over her sleek fur it’ll feel warm.

“Thanks for waiting,” Jerath grumbles.

Serim swishes her tail in a dismissive manner, and Jerath swats at it as he climbs up onto the rock beside her. He loves Serim’s panther form. She’s so strong and powerful, her muscles bunching and relaxing under his fingers as he strokes down her flank. But at the same time she remains soft and feminine. Her fur is smooth against his skin, and her eyes are the most beautiful color Jerath has ever seen.

They lie there for a while, enjoying the sun and the peace and quiet, but the sun is starting to drop and Serim needs to catch some fish before they can head back to the village.

“Serim?” Jerath yawns and stretches, trying to wake himself up a bit. “You need to change back and get to work.” He hops down off the rock and places Serim’s clothes in the spot he just left. “I’ll go get the nets out while you change.”

Serim gnashes her teeth at him and Jerath takes it to mean, “Yes, okay.”

There are four fishing lakes in total. The people of Eladir need the fish when the autumn and winter months are approaching and hunting is scarce, and they’re very careful not to overfish.

The nets are kept in a small wooden building set about ten feet back from the water. It’s never locked and Jerath pushes it open, gagging slightly at the strong fishy smell that wafts out at him. It’s almost as bad as the barn.

He locates the nets and chooses one of the smaller ones from near the bottom. Since there’s only him and Serim, they won’t be able to carry that many fish back. He hoists the bundle of ropes onto his shoulder—hoping the awful smell will wash out because, unlike Serim, he’s not wearing his old clothes—and heads back to see if she’s shifted yet.

“Hey.” Serim smiles as she walks over to help Jerath with the net.

“Nice to have you back.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” She looks a little sheepish. Jerath knows that, as a rule, Mahli and Serim try not to shift too much in front of him. He’s told them it’s okay and he doesn’t mind, but they still don’t do it as much as they could.

“It’s fine, Serim.” He smiles at her, and she grins in return. “Let’s get these in the water.”

Serim takes one side, Jerath the other, and they walk backward away from each other until the net is spread open between them. On the count of three, they throw it out into the lake and watch as it lands, perfect and untangled, then sinks down to the bottom.

There are four ropes attached to the net, each one long enough so when the net sinks, there’s plenty of rope left on the surface to pull the ends together and haul in the catch. Serim and Jerath carefully lay the ends down and secure them around several of the trees. Then they wait.

The fish will all have scattered as soon as the net hit the water. Jerath has been on fishing duty a couple of times before and he knows from experience it’ll be at least half an hour before they start to return. Serim throws a handful of bait into the water to encourage them, and Jerath climbs back onto the rock. He pulls his knees up to his chest and sighs.

“Jerath?” Serim clambers up next to him, not half as agile in her human form but still more graceful than Jerath. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” He scrubs a hand over his eyes. “It’s just….” Jerath pauses. “You know….” He’s tired of all this—being envious of his friends and feeling left behind as more and more of the boys his age get their fangs. He doesn’t want Serim and Mahli to have to censor themselves around him, and he doesn’t want to keep going on about it all the time either, even though he knows they don’t mind.

Serim doesn’t say anything; she just nudges him and places her head on his shoulder. It’s exactly what he needs right now and he turns his head to place a barely there kiss on her forehead.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“H
ERE
you go.” Serim grins as she wipes off Jerath’s hunting knife and hands it back to him. “All done.”

“Finally.” Jerath jumps off the rock and helps Serim put the wrapped and gutted fish in the carrying sacks they’d brought with them.

“It would have gone a lot quicker if you’d helped instead of watching.” Serim huffs as she pulls her sack tightly closed, and Jerath laughs.

“Hey, I did my fair share of smelly, disgusting work at the barn this morning. Besides….” Jerath brandishes his knife before hooking it into the sheath behind his back. “There was only one knife.”

“Yes, well….”

Jerath laughs again because there’s nothing she can say to that. It was Serim who forgot her knife, after all. He hoists one of the sacks onto his shoulder and starts to walk off. “Last one back to the village has to pack them in the ice hut.”

“Hey!” Serim calls as Jerath strides into the trees. “That’s not fair!”

Jerath smiles to himself as he hears Serim hurry to catch up.

They’re about ten minutes into the forest when they hear it. Serim tenses next to him, and there’s something off in her expression. Her senses are far more acute than Jerath’s, even in her human form, and her reaction makes him suddenly nervous. He would normally go and investigate the unusual noise, but instead he grabs Serim’s hand and pulls her off the path and back into the forest. He puts his finger to his lips to shush her as she opens her mouth, and hurries to crouch down behind a small cluster of rocks.

Serim points to her ear, for Jerath to listen, and he nods in understanding. They keep still and silent, not making even the slightest sound, and soon enough they can hear the crunch and shuffle of people walking through the forest.
Lots
of people.

Serim raises an eyebrow, a look of “What’s going on?” written across her face. Jerath has no idea. Apart from him and Serim, he wasn’t expecting anyone to be out here. The footsteps are getting louder and Jerath hears a voice barking orders.

“Hurry the fuck up!” someone shouts.

There’s a loud crack followed by a grunt of pain, and something cold sits uncomfortably in the pit of Jerath’s stomach. He easily recognizes the sound of a whip. Slender fingers slide through his as Serim grips his hand tightly. Jerath feels her trembling, and when he looks over at her, he’s met with wide, terrified eyes.

“Try that again and I
will
kill you.” It’s the same voice. It sounds cold and angry and it’s not one that Jerath has ever heard before. He squeezes Serim’s hand.

“
Ghaneth
…
you need to do as he says.” It’s a pleading whisper, almost too quiet to hear but still horrifyingly familiar. “I think he means it.”

Jerath’s heart stops. No… it can’t… no. That was Kyr’s voice and he was obviously talking about
their
Ghaneth. As much as Jerath dislikes Kyr, he would never ever want him to come to any harm. And Ghaneth…
no
.

Serim’s hand vibrates in his grasp and she’s the palest he’s ever seen her. Her eyes are starting to turn blue, and Jerath realizes with a jolt that she’s about to shift. He squeezes her fingers tighter, frantically shaking his head. These people have managed to raid their village and take prisoners, which means there are obviously too many of them for one panther to take on. If Serim shifts now, they’ll kill her on sight.

Jerath pulls her against him and crushes her into his side. He strokes her back, his hand rubbing up and down her spine as he tries to calm her. The men have almost passed them now, so Jerath risks a quick peek over the top of the rocks. There are more than he thought.

He can see at least thirty young men being marched along as prisoners, and Jerath can tell that not all of them are from his village. They must have raided Westril and Lakesh too. There are about twenty men guarding them—that Jerath can see anyway. They’re wearing clothes Jerath doesn’t recognize and their accent is unfamiliar. He hates to think where they’re taking Ghaneth, Kyr, and the rest of them.

Jerath and Serim sit huddled behind the rocks until the footfalls can barely be heard anymore.

“We need to get back to the village. Now.” Serim jumps up and starts pacing. Jerath can tell she’s desperate to shift and run ahead. She’ll be much faster that way and he has no intention of holding her back. They need to know what’s happened and that everyone else is okay, because Jerath refuses to think of the alternatives.

“Go,” he says.

She stops midstep and spins round to look at him.

“Go,” he urges. “I’ll be as quick as I can behind you.”

Serim tears off her clothes. She doesn’t give Jerath a chance to look away first, but under the circumstances neither of them have the time to care. With a quick nuzzle against Jerath’s palm, Serim races off into the trees.

Jerath shoves her clothes under his arm and hoists one of the fish sacks over his shoulder again. He looks with regret at the other one; he hates the idea of wasting all that food, but two bags will slow him down too much. He sighs and heads off after Serim, back to their village, dreading what he might find when he gets there.