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Good Luck

Chapter 5

Azrian didn't leave the Nahet immediately. She knew Ti'uu would protect her from Ayni's wrath and rode Meba as fast as she could back to the giant tree in which she, Nhlahla, and Sampson lived. She could see the glow of Sampson's fire before she even reached the hollow trunk, and as she slid off Meba's back, Nhlahla appeared in the open doorway with Sampson looming tall behind her.

Nhlahla stepped from the tree and into the light of the moon, and the glow of a nearby mushroom - giant as a stool - lit her worried face from under. She was wearing a simple fur loincloth and top, and was wrapped in a shawl made of black panther fur. Her long white mane, meanwhile, was down around her frightened eyes. Feathers dangled from her ears, around her throat, and from her shawl. Behind her, Sampson was clad in a fur loincloth. His bare chest was ripped in the soft glow of the fire, his long mane was loose around his thick neck. Against his chest lay a necklace of teeth having once belonged to a panther he killed for attacking Nhlahla. His spear was on his shoulder and mud was on his feet, as if he had only just returned from searching for Azrian. The worry on his face sent a thrill of guilt through Azrian. Relieved, he made a move as if to approach the demigoddess and embrace her, but short Nhlahla held out her arm.

Nhlahla clutched her shawl to her throat as Azrian sheepishly came forward, and the relief on her face quickly creased to fury. "Where the hell," she practically shouted, "have you been? D'you know we've been up all night worried sick?"

"I didn't think you'd even notice," Azrian muttered under her breath. She tried to move past Nhlahla but the shorter female pointed a sharp nail and tilted down her head, a warning stance that the younger vixen should not move. Azrian halted dismally: Nhlahla's lips were tight with rage, and suddenly, she was more fearsome than the goddess Ayni herself.

Azrian bowed her head, feeling like a pup as the tirade began.

"We trudged," Nhlahla said through her fangs, "all night,_through mud and thorns, _screaming at the top of our lungs, thinking you were hurt, thinking you were dead --"

"Hurt?" Azrian blurted with sudden menace. "Why would I be hurt? Apparently, I'm Ti'uu's god-child!"

Nhlahla's face smoothed with shock. She and Sampson stared at Azrian.

"That's right!" Azrian practically shrieked and hated the sob in her voice, hated the sudden tears that rose to blind her. "Ti'uu is my father - my father is a god, and you didn't tell to me!"

Nhlahla and Sampson exchanged unhappy glances. Sampson came forward with a sad frown, and this time, Nhlahla didn't stop him when he leaned down to enfold Azrian in his big arms. Azrian curled against him like a child. She didn't know why she was so angry, but her heart was pounding with fury. She was the child of some god, had a destiny she did not want, and they had never told her!

"Sampson," Azrian moaned, "why didn't you tell me! Who was my mother? Where is she? Is she dead?"

Azrian saw Nhlahla's throat tighten and was shocked by the sudden tears that rose in the older vixen's eyes. "Come in the house," Nhlahla said quietly and turned away.

Azrian allowed Sampson to guide her inside. In the center of the room, the fire was blazing softly, and she smiled sadly to see the small bowl of that night's supper which Sampson had left for her near the flames. She sat and ate, morosely and slowly, and as the lukewarm broth slid down her throat, she felt her body relaxing. Sampson's cooking always had that effect. The broth had been boiled with the bones of wild boar. It was her favorite.

Nhlahla eased into her rocking chair, a chair that Sampson had made for her some years before. She wasn't an old vixen by any means, and yet the tired way in which she eased down and tightened her shawl made her look several years older, as did the worried frown on her brow. She was still crying, and Azrian couldn't stand it. Neither could Sampson, who went to her and touched her cheek with the back of his big fingers. Nhlahla caught Sampson's paw and smiled at him reassuringly.

The big mastiff lumbered to his own chair near the uneven hole that served as a makeshift window. The chair was a fur-lined contraption that was so big, it took up half a wall. He sat with a groan, took out his carving knife, and picked up a carving he'd been working on for the last three or so days. More of his carvings stood on a large mushroom, which rose beside his chair like a table: carvings of leaping deer, birds, boars, and even Ayni foxes as they hunted. He started to whittle the shapeless wood in his paw, but his distracted eyes kept glancing at Azrian. Azrian scooted to him and ate near his foot, and just having her closer seemed to put him at ease. When she was a child, she used to eat while sitting in his lap. She missed those days.

"We knew you were god-touched," Nhlahla said into the silence. "But that's all we knew. We figured if we told you the truth, you'd run and try to find Ti'uu, get yourself hurt or put yourself in danger. You may be god-touched, girl, but you are not infallible."

Azrian paused over her broth and looked at Nhlahla apologetically.

"We found you here," Nhlahla went on, and Azrian listened with unflinching eyes. "And the old fox who'd been caring for you was dead. He died of a heart attack. Whether by the will of the gods or not, I can not say. You were in a basket, screaming and glowing with fire. You actually burned the basket to ash."

Sampson nodded, smiling sadly.

"We found the Ayni Tribe and asked a nursing mother to care for you. Her husband had only just died while hunting and she was alone with her son. She lived here with us for a time with the boy. You wouldn't remember her --"

"Esra," Azrian whispered to her broth, and Nhlahla stopped rocking. "I remember her."

Nhlahla smiled sadly. "She loved you like her own. But she was afraid caring for you would anger Ayni, so she left us when you were but one. Ayni is the sister of Ti'uu. It is said among the Ayni Tribe that she and her brother have a rivalry that goes beyond what we would consider mere hatred. She would hurt you simply because Ti'uu loves you. This is why I have begged you to stay away from her tribe." Nhlahla's frown deepened and the bright green feathers hanging from her pricked ears danced long near her cheek. Her white mane fell away behind her shoulders, shaggy and unkempt from a long night of wandering the Nahet. She picked up a basket of sewing and began working. Azrian knew she was doing it to sooth her nerves.

"I never even believed they were real," Azrian muttered to her broth. "Until tonight."

Nhlahla nodded as her slender fingers worked. "So Great Ti'uu has come to you," she said as heavily as if she were expecting terrible news - and Azrian knew she had every reason to dread.

"Yes," Azrian said unhappily. "He saved me from Ayni."

Nhlahla halted and her eyes narrowed on Azrian. She slowly shook her head. "You foolish girl. What did you do to anger Ayni? Did you go to her tribe? I could shake --!"

"I wanted it!" Azrian burst. The room went still. She swallowed unhappily and muttered to her broth, "I wanted to know what it was like to be that close . . ." She touched a thoughtful paw to her breasts and gazed off, thinking dreamily of Irmai. ". . . to have my soul so in tune with another's." She looked at Nhlahla, who was watching her apologetically. "You and Sampson have something wonderful. I see the way you look at each other. The way you kiss . . . I just wanted . . ." Her lip trembled and she looked at her broth. "I just wanted to be loved." She felt Sampson's comforting paw touch her head, and something in her broke. She pushed her spoon sadly through her broth and continued eating.

Nhlahla watched Azrian unhappily, and Azrian knew she had never realized until that moment what a lonely existence the young vixen had led. "There is a reason you were drawn to Rahel and Irmai," she said quietly and took up her sewing again.

"How'd you know about Irmai?" Azrian blinked.

Nhlahla smiled. "A mother knows her child. And you are my child, no matter how you feel, girl." Her eyes softened but lowered to her sewing again. "Esra stayed here for a year with her young son, newly widowed and taking comfort in new friends. You and the boy shared a basket and slept in each other's arms. Mortals do not carry memories of such early stages of life, but gods . . . gods always remember. I thought because you were half mortal that you would forget Irmai. It seems you never did."

Azrian poked at her broth. She didn't know what to say. In truth, she couldn't remember Irmai at all. But she did remember his mother and had sought the female out, only to discover beautiful Rahel. Rahel was the child Esra had after she remarried -- innocent, supple, sweet Rahel. Azrian had seen her and had not been able to look away, even when they were children. She still thought of Rahel now and a part of her wished she could have them both - Irmai and Rahel - in one bed.

"I'm sorry I disobeyed," Azrian said, and she smiled sadly to see the look of surprise that spread on Nhlahla's face: Azrian had never apologized for disobeying. Not in all twenty years of her young life.

Nhlahla set her sewing on her lap and stared. "What did you do, girl, that you are sorry? What did Great Ti'uu say?"

Azrian heaved a breath and tried to keep her lip from trembling. "Ayni has banished me from Na--"

Sampson moaned before Azrian could finish her sentence. "No," he said, his deep voice heavy and sad.

Azrian hated to see the pain in his eyes. She knew losing her would be like losing an arm for Sampson. She dropped her head against his knee and closed her eyes when his big paw touched her mane.

"No," he said again, firm and resolute. "We will come with you."

"You can't," Azrian told him. She glanced at Nhlahla and saw fresh tears in her eyes. "Nhlah . . . don't cry. Please."

"You can't leave here," Nhlahla said darkly. "To hell with Ayni!"

Azrian swallowed miserably. "But I have to. Ti'uu wants me to do something. To carry out some plan of his." She bit her lip and thought angrily of this Prince Etienne she was supposed to seduce. Bah. She would die first! She would never go to Wychowl! But Ti'uu had told her that fate would lead her there, no matter what she wanted.

"I always knew this day would come," Nhlahla said, eyes dull as she looked with sad longing at Azrian. "I always knew that one day, Great Ti'uu would take you from us. I just . . . didn't know it would hurt this much." Her lashes lowered as a tear escaped.

"Please, don't cry," Azrian begged. She got up from the floor and came to Nhlahla. Nhlahla did not protest when she was pulled up from her rocking chair. They hugged, and Azrian held the shorter vixen tightly and stroked her mane. Nhlahla cried freely. Sampson came to them and enfolded them both in his big arms.

"I'll go far away," Azrian whispered as Sampson kissed her head, as Nhlahla kissed her cheek. "I'll hide. And maybe Ayni will forget her anger and I can come back."

"Don't be foolish," Nhlahla scolded, her voice a sob. "You have a destiny, girl. You can't fight destiny."

Azrian scowled. "You don't even believe in destiny. You don't believe in anything but luck."

Nhlahla's eyes softened again. "That's right. Luck gave me Sampson." She smiled at the mastiff, whose dark eyes smiled in return. "And luck gave me you." She sniffed and looked at Azrian with love shining in her wet eyes. Her small paw stroked down Azrian's mane and cupped her face.

Azrian smoothed her paw over Nhlahla's. "Ti'uu would have sent me away whether or not Ayni banished me. He would have come for me anyway."

"I know," Nhlahla said heavily. "I just hoped like a fool that he would leave us be. Twenty years and I never heard a word from him . . . Now this?" Nhlahla shook her head and broke away, and Azrian watched as the older vixen went around the room. She gathered a bag and started packing little things for Azrian: skinning knives, shawls, bowls and utensils. Sampson took the bag from her and helped her.

Azrian rubbed her arm, watching as her parents prepared for her departure. "But . . . Ti'uu is my father. Who was my mother? I thought it was you, Nhlah . . ."

Nhlahla smiled sadly, and when Sampson gave his mate a worried look and rubbed her shoulder, Azrian suddenly knew Nhlahla had more than known her mother: she had cared for her.

Azrian shook her head. "I don't understand. You said you found me here, and yet . . . every time I ask about my mother . . . you look as if you're going to cry . . ."

"We did find you here," Nhlahla said, passing Sampson more things for the bag. She bowed her head over the table as she collected the canteen there and a fork. "Your mother and I . . . we became separated when the Ti'uu Tribe was attacked. Your mother was pregnant with you. I never saw her again . . ." She swallowed hard. "Sampson and I wandered south, trying to go as far from Celankobi as we could. Such painful memories there . . . death and fire." She looked at Azrian with wide eyes, and for a moment, it was as if she was seeing through her, seeing into the painful past and its horrors. She shook her head and went back to handing things to Sampson.

Sampson frowned. He dropped an apple in the bag, then rubbed his big paw up Nhlahla's back to comfort her.

"So it really _was_luck that you found me," Azrian muttered.

"Luck," Sampson grunted, "or destiny?"

Nhlahla wearily rolled her eyes. "Don't start, Sam."

Sampson frowned. He believed in destiny, and though he believed in the gods of the foxes, he also still believed in his own god, the once-mortal King Antony, who the dogs believed had ascended to Heaven to rule from on high. Some of their stories said King Antony merged his life force with a creator god to become a creator god, and once he became one with the creator of the world, he could no longer live among mortals and departed. Azrian had always laughed at such stories, but after meeting Ti'uu and Ayni, she was starting to doubt.

"We both know she is the child of a god," Sampson said. "Did you really think she was going to sit here and twiddle her thumbs all her life? Your god conceived her with a purpose, Nhlah. We have to accept it." He looked down at Nhlahla with coaxing brown eyes. He had spoken in the language of the foxes and had spoken perfectly. Indeed, the three of them rarely if ever spoke the tongue of the dogs.

Azrian's lashes lowered. She knew perfectly well that Nhlahla and Sampson finding her had been sheer luck. Ti'uu had planned her birth but had not planned for her to wind up in the Nahet with Nhlahla and Sampson as her caregivers.

Nhlahla was scowling at Sampson when Azrian spoke.

"Ti'uu called you The Lucky One."

Nhlahla smiled. "Ah. No one has called me that . . . in so very long."

"Did my mother call you that?" Azrian wondered hopefully. "What was she like? And why didn't you _tell_me about her?" She frowned and tilted her head, her red mane cascading around the side of her confused face.

Nhlahla looked at Azrian apologetically. "Your mother was like you: beautiful, skeptical . . . wild. She didn't have much faith in Ti'uu either. In fact, she ran away when she was to marry my brother. She ran because she wanted to marry me."

Azrian's mouth slipped open.

"She was princess of the Ti'uu Tribe," Nhlahla went on. "Our tribe." She went to the wall where her old staff stood, slender as a shadow. It was made of a gnarled wood taken from a tree Azrian could not identify. The first time she questioned Nhlahla about the staff, she was six, and Nhlahla proceeded to tell her about the trees of the Celankobi, magical and once majestic. Blue feathers were tied to the staff and swayed gently as Nhlahla came to Azrian with it. Ti'uu's feathers.

"Here," Nhlahla said quietly. "You should have it. Maybe it'll bring you luck."

Azrian shook her head as the staff was presented to her. "What? No! You love that staff --"

"It should have been your mother's," Nhlahla said over her.

Azrian hesitated and took the staff with a shaking paw. She slid it in the sheath on her back and felt it fall to rest beside the small spear strapped there. When she looked up, it was to find Nhlahla and Sampson smiling at her mistily.

"Seems just yesterday you were so tiny in my arms. A precious little thing," Nhlahla said as Sampson put a comforting arm around her.

"Where will you go?" Sampson asked. He passed Azrian the bag.

Azrian slung the bag over her shoulder. "The Celankobi?"

Nhlahla shook her head. "No. Don't go there. And stay away from the dog lands."

"There are white foxes," Sampson said thoughtfully, "out near Loxney. They might take her in."

Nhlahla nodded. "Maybe. They are guided by the white bird Kutre. She is known for her compassion." Nhlahla sighed. "But that place is so far . . ." She looked at Azrian with sad eyes, and Azrian knew she wanted to hug her again.

"I'll try for Loxney," Azrian said. "It's north, right? I'll have to pass through Celankobi anyway then. I'll leave Meba when I reach the end of the forest. She'll come back to you."

Nhlahla frowned. "I don't want you to be alone."

"Nhlah, I'll be fine," Azrian assured her. "Besides, Ti'uu said he was watching."

Nhlahla scowled. "I fear all he does is watch."

"Nh_lah_," Sampson scolded. He looked at Azrian with soft eyes. "Be safe, my girl."

Nhlahla touched Azrian's cheek. "Perhaps we will find you in Loxney? When we have more time to prepare and follow?"

Azrian shook her head. "No! You're safe here in the Nahet. Sampson is a wanted traitor. And without Ti'uu's blessing, you have no magic, Nhlah."

Nhlahla swallowed and nodded with difficulty. "Then go. Your_destiny_ awaits, girl." She gave Azrian a twisted smile and twirled a lock of the girl's red mane in her fingers as she added, "Good luck."