7 The Sun and the Girl

The scarred boy was about to leave when the Sun called him back.

"Boy. What did the Wolf say to you before he left?"

"That I had given him a gift, and to remember his instructions."

"What instructions?"

"To bear no arms, to eat nothing, to drink nothing, and to take nothing."

"You took my necklace."

Then the cat flowed from before the throne to behind the boy, blocking the way to the door. The Sun stood slowly, his mane shedding light that illuminated the stone walls of the throne-room. The boy stood firm, bravely, as the god approached. Then he struck the boy, so that he fell, and blood trickled from his nose. The Sun took this blood, smearing his own face with it, and walked into the boy.

He tried out his new limbs by stretching them, and was pleased. He took a few steps, getting used to human feet. In the corner of the room was a mirror, and he looked at his stolen face critically. Carefully, he undid the scar, and healed the eye. As an afterthought, he healed the other injuries too. He dimmed the light that he still gave off from inside the boy. In the room filled with cows, he bathed in the milk, as the Moon did when she was wont. He drank from the fountain in the courtyard, and ate the remnants of the Wolf's cow. He remembered that humans were often unused to raw meat, and cooked it first. It tasted good. Finally, he found the room in his own wing where he had kept his prisoners. He forgot to feed them, and they were all long dead, but he took the clothes from them, and dressed the boy's body richly.

Outside, he saddled his great cat, and left his Palace, under the cover of darkness. The boy's weapons lay outside, sharpened and cleaned by the Wolf. He took them.

Then they swam through the sea, rode over mountains, through plains, through the forest. The Sun had only seen these places from on high, and was intrigued to see them from this new angle. His heart was pumping with excitement, and he loved the taste of his blood in his veins. Morning didn't come, and in the light of the stars the boy returned to the village.

When the guards saw their famous hunter, riding on a great golden cat, fabulously attired, weapons sharp and gleaming, his scar gone, they called to the others, and they woke, even though they thought it was night. The chief called a meeting, and everybody came, even the Shaman. The chief's daughter was clearly excited, and jostled with the rest of the crowd to see the hero.

When all he villagers had gathered, the Sun hushed them all, and began to tell his story, in the manner he thought the boy might talk. How he had won his way to the Sun's palace on the world's edge, how he had defeated the Sun, and made him heal his scar and give him his love, and then trapped the Sun in a deep dungeon. The people cheered, and the Sun silently marked those that cheered the loudest.

The boy and the girl were married, and in their new house they were finally alone. The Sun said no words to his bride, but kissed her passionately, and made love to her. The girl did not realise at once who he really was. A year passed, and the harvest was good, though the Sun never rose. The chief died from a mysterious disease, and the boy who was once scarred was made chief in his place. He set up great torches around the village to give light. He led his warriors against the neighbouring tribes, and returned with slaves and tribute. He brought the Shaman from his cave, and set him up as a priest in the village. He ordered sacrifices to the gods and the spirits, whose king, he said, was the Chief. The Priest enjoyed the power this brought him.

The girl had long since realised that he was not the boy she loved.

She would come upon him, lapping the blood from a sacrificial bowl, attended by one of his sacred virgins. "You are not the man I loved," she would say.

"No, I am not," he would reply. "But no-one will believe you, and you are only a girl. You cannot stand against me alone."

"The people will not suffer your tyranny."

"The harvests are good. The tributes make them fat. They are happy."

"Where is the boy I loved?"

"He is here."

"You are not him."

"This is best. You are faithful to your true husband, at the same time you get the boy you profess to love. And he is not so ugly now the scar is gone."

The girl looked at him coldly, at his great cat, and at the virgin who attended him. She was a mute, and the chief's wife often felt that she was too.

8 The Wolves and The Moon

The girl went to her private place, where she had once bathed by the river, and mourned her father, and her sisters, and her lover. As she sat, utterly alone under the starry sky a young wolf came to her, walking with a slight limp, and nuzzled her lovingly. She hugged him and cried, because she recognised him as the cub she had cared for.

"I know why you're crying," said the young Wolf Prince.

The girl held him tight, and wept all the more.

"Let me speak to your mother, Prince," she said.

Slowly, the wolf led the girl into the forests, more ancient than man, past a great hollow tree, and a tall pine surmounted by a great empty nest. In a cave slept two grey wolves, and the prince woke them gently.

"What is it?" Said the Wolf Queen irritably, her eyes half-closed.

"Your Highness," said the girl. "I wonder if you remember a boy who you helped a year ago."

"Of course I remember the young hunter. And I remember you, though you look the worse."

"The Sun has taken my love, and is wearing his skin and eating my people."

The Queen snarled. "That boy was more beloved to me than any human has ever been. I will raise a thousand packs and storm his village. He will pay for this-"

"I don't think that will help," cut in the girl politely. "He is a god, after all. And I don't want any more death. But perhaps there is someone who can help. How did my love get to the Palace of the Sun?"

The Wolf Queen shuddered. "We called a meeting of the packs, and there was one wolf not of our people, a great white half-man. Some say he is the Moon's Wolf."

"I must get his help."

"Then we will find him for you, and enlist his aid by any means."

The Queen sent out messengers, and as the morning came (though not the Sun), one lean black wolf returned, bringing with him a magnificent white beast larger even than the King.

"I am the Moon's Wolf," he announced. "Who has summoned me?"

The Queen spoke: "I, Queen of the Wolves have called you. This girl desires to visit the Palace of the Sun."

"Does she? I know who she is. But what will I get in return? The journey is twice as long with a rider. You have no authority over me, your highness. I am not of your packs."

"Name your price, and we will pay it. The girl's endeavour is dear to us also."

The White Wolf grinned a dog-grin. "Kill the Golden Cat. The Sun's creatures are my enemies."

The Wolf Queen agreed.

"But," warned the Moon's Wolf. "Be wary- the Golden Cat is no creature of this earth, but a
powerful spirit, a beast with light flowing in its veins. It will take many packs to kill him."

"His life is already yours."

"Good. I will take the girl to my Lady's palace this very day. When next the Moon rises, it must shine on the Cat's corpse. And I will wear his fangs about my neck as a trophy."

The girl climbed on the Wolf's back, as she was bidden, as the boy had done. She clung onto his neck, where he had tied brilliant fire-red feathers like a hunter's headdress. When she was secure, he raced through the forest, onto the plain and through the tents. Over the mountains he ran, and when his feet ached he dived into the ocean and swam until he came to the great grey island, over the cliffs, and led the girl before the Palace, half red, half black. An owl waited on the gate.

"I would give you advice, girl, tell you not to eat anything, or drink anything, or bear arms; to take nothing, but I fear it is too late. Do what you must."

By the light of the stars, she entered the courtyard, and walked through the door into the tower where the throneroom lay. The moon sat there, upon a throne of white jade. She wore a long gown of black, and stars nestled sleepily in her robe. Her skin was pale, and as the girl came into the room, the owl who had been at the gate flew through an open window and settled on her shoulder.

"So," said the Moon. "You are the girl who has taken my husband."

"I did not mean it, your Ladyship," replied the girl. "But I have come to right the wrong. The Sun belongs in the sky. The stars should not shine in the day."

"How will you return Him to the sky?"

"I had hoped you could do it."

"I cannot. If I approached him, he would give battle, and probably win. But I can help you, for a small price."

"I will grant you a gift, whatever you ask that I can give."

"I will take three gifts. The first is my husband, and I will show you how to return him to me. As for the second: When your boy came here, he was set three tasks by the Sun. The first two, I knew of, but the third I did not discover until too late. My child by the Sun was killed by your young man, in a manner I do not care to describe. I have lost a son; you are pregnant. When the girl is born, I will send my wolf to your village, and he will take the babe."

"As you say," said the girl, heartbroken but resolute.

"The third gift is the least. Take this pin, and prick each of your fingers once, and let me take ten drops of blood from each."

"Why is it always blood?" Sighed the girl.

"You play for high stakes girl, and so the price must be high. The most precious thing you own is your life, and the blood is the life. Now take the pin."

The girl took the pin, and the Moon drank the drops one by one, savouring them. Then she touched the pinpricks with her own cool fingers, and they were healed.

9 The Boy and the Girl

The Moon led the girl to a room where all was darkness, but as the goddess entered her own light, and that of her stars, lit the room enough to see the cauldron of water in the centre of the room, wrought of polished steel. The Moon took a chalice from a shelf, and filled it with the water from the pool, then spat in it, and handed it to the girl.

"Tonight, when I am in the sky and He is weak, give Him this to drink. This will have two effects: his power will be mine to command, so that he will never again threaten your village or any other. Second: he will fall into a deep sleep. Then you must take the pin I gave you earlier, and again prick yourself. Let a drop fall onto each of the gems on the necklace he wears, then take the stones in your fingers, and shatter them one by one. He will leave your boy, and return to his path, never to leave it again."

"Thankyou," said the girl.

"Just do as I have told you. And remember: your child is mine."

Then the Moon motioned to the girl to follow her again, and they left the room in darkness. She was led to a balcony of glass, where the Moon kissed her, formally, on either cheek, and wished her luck.

"Hold the chalice steady," said the Moon, and then she summoned a storm that gently lifted the girl. She was carried by soft clouds until the Palace was out of sight, and then the clouds darkened, and gathered speed, and raced with ominous thundering over the mountains before letting out their rain over the plain. As they passed the forest, the stormclouds cleft trees with lighting. When they were at her village, the Moon was preparing to rise, and they let the girl down softly. She went to the house where the chief, her husband, lived.

"I see you have returned," said the Sun. His lips were red from the blood from a sacrifice, and he was curled naked in the bed like an animal. "Have you seen my cat, girl?"

"The creature is apt to wander, is it not? But it doesn't matter. I have missed you."

"Good. I have appetites other than blood."

And she let him kiss her.

"The taste of blood mars your kiss, lord," said the girl. "Wash it away with this stream-water, so that I can fully enjoy your attentions."

The Sun downed the water from the chalice in one gulp, and the girl kissed him with feigned tenderness, and a quick-beating heart. But he was already asleep. Swiftly, she pricked her index finger, and let the blood flow onto the first, largest garnet. As the blood touched the stone, it seemed as if it became one with the gem. She took it firmly between two fingers, tender from pricking, and squeezed. It shattered like a glass bauble, with a sound like a young girl screaming. The Sun stirred a little. Swiftly, she pricked another finger, and shattered another gem. Each time, there was a scream, each time a little more distant. The last one sounded almost like a baby, but was too faraway to make out properly. But as it broke, and the fragments poured over her fingers like blood-drops, the boy-sun woke, roaring so loud that the sound shook the world. He stood dizzily, still yelling, and began to shake convulsively. Vomit poured from his mouth, and with one final, violent spasm the Sun fell out of his skin, glowing dully, eyes dark and haggard. As he fell, he raked the boy's face with his fingers, tearing out one eye, leaving a deep scar. Then he was dragged back into the sky, tossing like a struggling cat. In the morning he would rise again, and walk his path, alone, empty.

The girl took her boy in her arms, cleaning the fresh scar with water.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you," she said.

And for the first time, they kissed.