Erica Moonwhisper's Arc

Chapter 7 of 7

The fire burned low by the time the wedding crowd broke apart. Erica stood at the edge of the camp with no place to go. She was wed now, and the war was over. But she had no tent, no wall, no door. Warriors watched her from the shadows between the tents. She saw it in their flat eyes. To them she was still soft forest meat, married or not. One brushed too close as he passed. His shoulder knocked hers. He smiled. Erica did not have a single lock between herself and them. Zera found her there. "You can't stand in the open," Zera said. "Not here. Not at night." "Then give me a door," Erica said. "I have nowhere." Zera's ears flicked. "A tent is claimed, not given. You take it in front of them, or it means nothing." She looked at the ring of watchers. "Follow me. Say nothing until I say your part." Zera walked to an empty tent near the central fire. It stood between her own and the king's, the best ground in camp. A warrior lounged across its entrance, one leg out, blocking the flap. He had been eyeing Erica all evening. He did not move. "This is mine," the warrior said. "First to sit holds it." Erica's heart pounded. She knew this game now. If she argued, she lost. If she waited, she lost. So she stepped past him, lifted the flap, and walked in. The warrior surged up behind her. But Zera was already there, blade out, resting flat against his throat before he cleared the doorway. "She sat," Zera said. "You spoke. She acted. You know the rule." The warrior went still. Around the fire, the others watched. Nalara stood among them, small and quiet, her gold eyes moving from the blade to Erica to her daughter. She said nothing. She only watched, and that was the whole test. Erica turned inside the tent. She pulled a woven mat straight with her own hands. She set her flower crown on the low table by the entrance, in plain view. Then she faced the warrior across the threshold. "This is my ground," Erica said, loud enough for the fire to hear. "You crossed it once. Cross it again and my wife answers you." The warrior looked at Zera's blade. He backed out. He did not smile now. Nalara stepped forward. She glanced at the crown on the table, at the straightened mat, at Erica standing square in the doorway. "She holds her own tent," Nalara said, dry. "Then she holds it fully." She turned and walked away. Zera lowered the blade. The warriors drifted off into the dark. For the first time since she left her forest, Erica had walls that were hers. She dropped the flap and let it fall shut. Inside, the noise of the camp went quiet. "They'll test the door again," Zera said. "My mother most of all."