“It may be different in the mountains, and by different I mean easier, but here it’s not a good idea to spend time on the forest floor after dark.”
“I’m aware of that. Bast and I can take care of ourselves,” Antreas said.
Instead of moving to the lift controls, the man tilted his head, studying Antreas. “Is it true you can scale trees?”
“It is,” Antreas said.
The man’s smile was mocking. “Then why do you need the lift to get down? Or can you just scale up?”
At his side, Bast hissed. Antreas watched the dog man’s eyes widen as his gaze went from him to the big feline and then back to him again. Antreas knew what he was seeing, and that knowledge had a slow, satisfied smile lifting the corner of his lips.
In the old language, Lynx meant light. The big cats had thus been named for the reflective power of their preternaturally sharp eyes—a power that passed to the human chosen by a Lynx—a power that outsiders said made the bonded Lynx and human look equally otherworldly, equally demonic.
“We can scale up and down trees. We can do many things your Tribe speaks of—and does not speak of—but in my home, my den, such questions posed to a guest are considered rude. Is that not so among the dog people of the Tribe of the Trees?”
The sentry blinked. His shocked expressed shifted back to one of forced disinterest. “Get in the lift. Wave the torch when you want to return.”
Antreas and Bast entered the lift and closed the door. His smile was mocking, though his tone remained carefully neutral. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
When they were still many feet from the forest floor, Bast clawed open the cage door and leaped from the lift, landing delicately on her wide paws. Grinning fiercely, Antreas followed her, so catlike in his movements that he, too, seemed to defy gravity.
And then Antreas was sprinting through the forest, following the silver streak that was Bast. With a teasing look over her shoulder at him, the big Lynx leaped up into the low arms of a young pine and crouched there, calling to her Companion with a rolling yowl. Nimbly, Antreas jumped from a nearby log, up and up, hurling himself at the tree Bast was perched in, catching himself easily by jabbing the spikes that protruded from the toes of his boots into the thick bark. With a practiced flick of his wrists, ten claws elongated from his otherwise normal-looking fingers, and with a satisfied grunt Antreas buried them into the skin of the tree so that he clung there with Bast, looking more feline than human.
“Not something dog men can do!” Antreas shouted at Bast, who bared her teeth in a fierce feline grin, and yowled in complete accord with her Companion. Then she gathered herself and leaped to another tree, not needing to so much as glance back at Antreas. Bast knew he’d follow her—Antreas would always follow her.
“You want a run and not a hunt! Okay, then, let’s go!”
The human and feline appeared to fly through the forest, moving from tree to tree with a grace and speed that was as incredible as it was rare for outsiders to witness.
By the time they reached the bottom of the ridge, Antreas was sweaty and laughing, his good humor restored by the chase. Breathing heavily, he dropped from the last of the trees to the mossy ground beside Bast and neatly retracted his claws, wiping his damp face with the back of his arm.
It was close to dawn and the wind had picked up, swirling clouds across the angry-looking sky.
“Looks like a storm may be coming,” he told Bast as he sat beside her, rubbing the downy silver fur at the base of the feline’s tufted ears.
Instead of relaxing and purring, Bast’s body suddenly became tense. All of the fur along her back lifted and she stared up into the lightening sky, growling low and deep in her throat.
“Hey, don’t worry, Bast. I won’t let a storm keep us here any longer than—” Antreas’s words broke off as he followed his feline’s gaze. High in the sky a wall of flame was taking form, roiling, boiling, and shifting to form the body of a woman. Then the wind whipped violently around them, and the body returned to flame. That flame descended on the ridge behind them.
The first pine was engulfed in seconds.
There was an ominous, almost sentient sound, and the flames began to feed on the next tree.
“By all the Realms of the Gods, it’s going to destroy the Tribe of the Trees!” Antreas said. He stood then, feeling the urge to run for the river—to get as far away from the fire as possible.
He started to move—to back away from the distant inferno, even though it was obviously devouring the forest before him and not heading in his direction.
Bast’s absence from his side had him halting.
The big feline hadn’t moved—hadn’t followed him. Instead she was staring at the burning city in the trees.
“Bast, we should go. We can’t do anything to stop that fire. No one can. We can only die with those poor dog people.”
Bast slowly turned her head so that she could meet his gaze. He felt her sorrow, and he loved her all the more for it.
“I know, my girl. I’m sorry for them, too.” Antreas gestured for her to come to him, and she did. Side by side, human and feline walked slowly, sadly, until they were well out of the forest and had come to the bank of the Channel that ran beside the Tribe’s island. The Lynx stopped there, turning to look back at the burning hillside.
“Bast, I don’t think it’s a good idea to stay here. If the wind changes we could be where the Tribe is—trapped in the middle of a wall of flame.”
But Bast refused to go any farther. Still facing the direction of the burning Tribe, she curled onto a wide, flat rock.
Antreas recognized the stubborn set of his feline’s ears. He knew her so well that he didn’t need the psychic bond that existed between them to understand her choice.
“But if we didn’t find my mate before that,” he gestured at the flaming forest, “we definitely won’t find her now—not here anyway.”
Bast’s ears flicked back once and Antreas was filled with a rolling tide of surety wrapped in his feline’s stubbornness.
Antreas knew he was defeated. Bast had decided, and unless he was willing to bind her and drag her with him, the Lynx would be immovable.
As always, he would follow her lead and wait until her preternatural understanding of the ebb and flow of time and events converged, and it became clear to Antreas what his Lynx needed … wanted … waited for.
“Okay, we stay here and see what we can do to help them rebuild,” Antreas said.
And as always, as Antreas sat and waited with Bast, he wondered what life-altering adventure following his Lynx would take him on this time.
ALSO BY P. C. CAST
Marked
Betrayed
Chosen
Untamed
Hunted
Tempted
Burned
Awakened
Destined
Hidden
Revealed
Redeemed
The Fledgling Handbook 101
Dragon’s Oath
Lenobia’s Vow
Neferet’s Curse
Kalona’s Fall
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
P. C. CAST is the author of the House of Night novels, including Marked, Betrayed, Chosen, and Untamed. She was born in the Midwest, and grew up being shuttled back and forth between Illinois and Oklahoma, which is where she fell in love with quarter horses and mythology. After high school she joined the United States Air Force and began public speaking and writing. After her tour in the USAF, she taught high school for fifteen years before retiring to write full time. Ms. Cast is a #1 New York Times and USA Today bestselling author and a member of the Oklahoma Writers Hall of Fame. With more than 20 million copies in print in more than forty countries, her novels have been awarded the prestigious Oklahoma Book Award, YALSA Quick Pick for Reluctant Readers, Romantic Times Reviewers’
Choice Award, and the Prism, Holt Medallion, Daphne du Maurier, Booksellers’ Best, and Laurel Wreath Awards. Ms. Cast lives in Oregon surrounded by beloved cats, dogs, horses, and family. You can sign up for email updates here.
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Epilogue
Also by P. C. Cast
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
MOON CHOSEN. Copyright © 2016 by P. C. Cast. Illustrations copyright © 2016 by Dr. Hilary Costello, N. D. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Cover design by Ervin Serrano
Cover illustration by Cliff Nielsen
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-10072-6 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-250-12578-1 (international, sold outside the U.S., subject to rights availability)
ISBN 978-1-250-10074-0 (e-book)
e-ISBN 9781250100740
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First Edition: October 2016