Fabana had walked for two hours in the hot sun. She was used to pacing a short distance from side to side. The distance to cover seemed almost impossibly vast, and she was weakened by her wound. Her grinding thirst pulled her to the side of the small watering hole she found. Without caution, without even looking around, she stumbled to the bank. Looking down into the water to take a drink, she saw something horrible looking back at her--a face delicate and fresh on one side and hideously scarred on the other.
      She was in the middle of her first season, but she knew no male would ever want her. She howled pitifully. “Why, Roh’kash! Why me! I’ve never known the company of a male, and now I’m so horrible!” She collapsed by the bank and sobbed brokenly.
      A small group of hyenas heard her and came out of the brush. They wondered who the stranger was. Fabana looked at them apprehensively. “Who are you?” she asked in common speech. “I don’t want trouble. I used to live here, and I’m trying to find my family. Do you know my okash La’kuneh?”
      She smelled human and spoke common speech. They wondered if she was truly one of theirs.
      “I remember La’khuneh,” the large male said in common speech.
      “Jalkort?” She looked at him closely. “Jalkort, is that you?”
      “I’m Jalkort. Should I know you?”
      She broke into tears. With almost painful reluctance, she said, “Bih hyannicha! Moh keth Fabana!” Gaining strength, she almost shouted, “Bih hyannicha, Jalkort! Moh keth Fabana!”
      “My gods!” Jalkort’s tail wagged so hard, his whole back carriage swayed. “Fay! Fay!” He ran forward and kissed her face on the good side. “Barkhal, Roh’kash!” He nuzzled her and rubbed her full length. Seeing the scar, he said, “I’ll rip the devil that did that to you! I’ll rip him alive! Where is he??”
      “He’s already dead. I had him in a death choke when the man got his bang stick and put him out.” She tensed up and asked, “How’s Mom?”
      Jalkort looked down. “Oh, Fay!”
      “What is it, Jal? Is she....?”
      “The fire. I’m so sorry.”
      “How about my brother and sister?”
      Jalkort nuzzled her sadly. He didn’t have to say a word.
      She nuzzled him back, a tear running down her cheek. “Then you’re all I have left. Oh Jal, please lean on me!” When he sat by her, she rested her cheek against his and wept bitterly. “I smell like a human and a dog. I want to be rid of that scent.” Bitterness began to well up inside her and she added, “I want to forget that life, to blot it out forever. The man took my freedom, and that dog tried to take my pride. Look what he did to me!”
      Jalkort looked at her good side in profile. "Actually, you’re a rather handsome female. Your children will only take your good looks, not your wound."
      “What children? I will die forsaken, and you know it!”
      “Our children,” Jalkort said. “Bal dareth, Fabana?”
      “You can’t possibly mean it!”
      “I do.”
      “But look at me!”
      “I am looking at you. I’m hunting, and I never take my eyes off my prey. No matter what anyone else thinks, you’re beautiful to me. I always knew you would be my bak’ret.”
      Tears began to stream down her face. “There is a God,” she sobbed. “There really is!” She kissed him and said, “Dareth koh, Jalkort! Dareth koh!”

      Fielder’s brutal advances had prejudiced Fabana against her own natural inclinations. She was afraid that Jalkort would come to her in the night with dull glowing eyes the way Fielder did to have his way with her. But she would endure it for the sake of her love for him and to bear his pups.
      Jalkort drew up almost timidly to her. “How bright the stars are tonight.”
      “Yes,” she said stiffly. Her muscles tensed. “They are bright, aren’t they.”
      “We’re alone now,” Jalkort whispered. “Safe from the eyes of night, this small part of the world is our private kingdom, and you are my queen.”
      “Come on. Get it over with,” Fabana said tensely.
      “Get what over with?” Jalkort said with a gentle laugh. “You’re such a timid creature. That’s what I love about you.” He pawed her, then came down on his front legs and wagged his tail. “Hey, I bet you can’t catch me!” He tapped her on the shoulder and ran a short distance, then said, “You’re it! Come on, Fay! Work off that fat, honey bunch!”
      “Fat??” She ran after him. “I’ll fat you!”
      He bounded over a row of bushes like a gazelle. She followed, just skimming the top.
      She looked around for him, but didn’t see him anywhere. Then she looked back and saw him hiding at the base of the bushes with a rakish grin on his face. “Gotcha!”
      Fabana laughed. “You little fakir! You never change!”
      “That’s right,” Jalkort said. “I’m still your friend. See, I’m not so scary am I?”
      “Well, no....” She looked into his warm hazel eyes. “Well, yes. You’re the most scary and wonderful thing I’ve ever seen.”
      He drew close to her face and nuzzled her gently. “I can be patient, as patient as you need me to be.”
      She smiled and rubbed his cheek gently with hers. “You’re my best friend, and against all hope you’re my husband. Whatever you want to do is fine by me.” She pawed the ground uneasily. “Will it hurt?”
      He chuckled. “No, my darling.” He pawed her face and smiled. “You’ll feel loved, very loved.”
      She looked into his eyes and saw the honesty and openness that liberated her love for him. “I’m ready. Make me feel loved.”
      “Are you sure?”
      Trembling with mixed fear and desire, she whispered, “Yes. I’m sure.”
      Fireflies like tiny shooting stars brought the splendor of the heavens close enough to touch. In the distance, a lion sang an ancient song of the joys of owning territory. Another lion roared back in eerie antiphony. The acacia leaves whispered wordless messages of peace and love. Fabana felt very happy, safe, and loved as he said she would. With Jalkort, no one would stare at her. With Jalkort, no one would shake their head in pity.
 
FABANA:
I looked into the water, and I dreaded what I’d see
A tortured face with ugly scars was looking back at me
I shied to go on living, and I wanted just to hide
And yet he doesn’t see that face, but one that lives inside
 
 
JALKORT:
She ran before the hungry fire that burned our world away
I thought our love was buried deep in some dark yesterday
Our path had forked, the dream had died,
like grass our love had burned
But life renewed amid the ash, and with it love returned.
 
 
BOTH:
The day before was void of hope, you were a sweet regret
A sad dream tugging at my heart I tried hard to forget
Then fate decreed our paths would cross,
our love was meant to be
Tonight the stars of Heaven smiled because you came to me.
 
      Jalkort and Fabana went to a place where fear and shame could not follow them, a place found only in the heart where scars do not make ugliness and the boundary between two hopes is removed. They were one love and one spirit burning brighter than the sun, and everything the light touched was made pure and holy. Fabana felt her old sadness washed away in the tide. With it washed away the clinging traces of Spotty. She was Fabana, daughter of Kelvar and wife of Jalkort!
      She discovered her special heritage with the help of her husband. Born to an ancient line, she knew the joy and comfort of a husband as her mother and grandmother did before her. All fear was gone. She floated in a pink sky on a golden cloud of joy, warmed by the sunshine of his love. She drew nearer, ever nearer to the sun, and finally trembling like a dry leaf she was swallowed up in the sweet caress of its fire. “Oh, Jal! I love you, so much!”
      The end of their passionate encounter was just the beginning of their close bond. Fabana turned to meet her husband’s shining hazel eyes. He smiled gently and kissed her.
      “Are you happy, Fay?”
      “Delirious,” she said. “You are love.”
      He went and rolled on his back in the sleepy savanna grass, and Fabana snuggled next to him.
      “Aren’t the stars beautiful, Fay?”
      She didn’t notice. Her gaze was turned upon him. “You make everything look beautiful. Even me.”

      After the honeymoon, Jalkort had to return to the mundane reality of evening hunting and morning scavenging, but every moment he spent with Fabana was made to count. She would hunt with a group of females headed by Amarakh, and most of the males would trot off with Ber. But Jalkort would leave with Gur’mekh and a few chosen males who hung together almost as a clan within a clan.
      When Fabana would return, and Jalkort saw her from across the field, he would run to her and forgoing words simply press his body against hers and nuzzle her. Her heart would almost rise to her mouth and she would paw him, knowing with some pride that new life was stirring inside her--life born from love.
      Jalkort often spoke of Gur’mekh, his wonderful psychic gifts, and his big plans for the future. Fabana wanted to meet Gur’mekh, but it was more easily said than done.
      Then one day when Jalkort came back from the hunt, he came trotting back with a lean, muscular male with a very intense pair of eyes that seemed to look right through people’s faces and spy on the heart.
      “Here he is, Fay! You wanted to meet Gur’mekh!”
      Jalkort’s pride was too clearly evident. Fabana nosed Gur’mekh’s cheek. “Jal speaks of you highly.”
      “He speaks highly of you too, Fabana.”
      There was something odd about Gur’mekh that disturbed Fabana. She could not quite tell what it was. Maybe his supposed gifts troubled her, but she was not sure. It would do no good to come out and ask him about his activities, so she tried hard to push her doubts to the back of her mind. She was wise enough to know Gur’mekh would pick up any strong suspicions whether she voiced them or not.
      “Your husband is indispensable to me,” Gur’mekh said. “I believe that our sun is rising, not setting. That there are great things ahead for our race, and that those who have looked down upon us for centuries will come to respect us as children of Roh’kash.”
      “Is something going to happen?”
      “Something revolutionary? No. Something evolutionary, at least for now. I believe that we have wasted the blood of our seers on petty concerns. I think that the psychic gift is a trust given us by Roh’kash for the betterment of our people. I believe that I must work to make the clan and someday the race better off than I found it. That’s what I will teach my children, and if the gift does run in families, we need to encourage our seers not to forgo marriage, but to do as my parents did, spreading the gift of Roh’kash until it becomes one with the race, and the race is one with it. A family united in blood and in spirit. Wouldn’t that be beautiful, Fabana?”
      “Perhaps. And yet....”
      “And yet?” He looked her in the eyes with his intense stare. She glanced down.
      “And yet, there is some comfort in privacy. I mean, don’t you think things you’d like to keep to yourself? Like maybe being attracted to someone else’s mate?”
      Gur’mekh was visibly upset, but quickly covered it. “Of course she doesn’t know,” he thought to himself. “Why, Fabana,” he said aloud, “If we all knew how we felt about each other, I think we’d choose the right partners in life. I mean, when I was growing up, my mom and dad would look at me, and I would feel drunk with love. I wish everyone could feel that way, even once in their life.”
      “I feel that way when I’m with Jalkort.”
      Jalkort kissed her, and the issue was soon smoothed over. Still from then on she distrusted Gur’mekh, and tried to encourage her husband to hunt with Ber instead.

      Demrath once thought the happiest day in his life was the day he married Lenti. But he changed his mind when the pups were born. Small expressions of the miracle of creation, he looked at them lost in wonder and love.
      Tela was a small Lenti, her pushed-in nose and large eyes were typical of a pup, but he could tell that she would grow to be like her Muti with the fire of Roh’kash shining in her eyes. Krull and En’geer naturally held Demrath’s attention, for he knew in the months to come he would spoil his twin sons the way his father spoiled him. “Mighty warriors, you make the earth tremble in your wake!” He laughed softly, nuzzling them, then kissing his daughter. “Look at them, Lenti! Our family!”
      Demrath showed off the pups whenever he could. Many of his friends were veteran parents, having raised several litters. But the pups of the next Roh’mach generated a great deal of interest. There were those out there who could see Tela as the future leader of her people.
      Of course, the depth of Demrath’s happiness only rubbed salt into Gur’mekh’s wounds. “Lenti, I would have given in to your every whim!” he said passionately, but only to the back wall of his cave. “I would have made you a goddess and worshipped you night and day! Now you have his pups when you could have had mine--seers, visionaries, destined for greatness!”
      After Gur’mekh had his say, he decided he must pay his respects to the pups or lose all of the progress he’d made with Lenti. After all, if he was going to be their father someday, they must get to know him. Though it rankled him that they were Demrath’s pups, he remembered that they were also Lenti’s children, and he would love them if only for that.
      Gur’mekh trotted down to Demrath’s den, grumbling about all the nice things he’d have to say to him. But when he arrived, he was soft-spoken and polite.
      “Hello, Demrath! You old married buck, let’s have a look at the kids!”
      Lenti said, “See, darling? I told you.”
      Gur’mekh gave him a firm pat on the shoulder, then headed straight for the pups. “Oh look! Two little Demraths and a Lenti!” He fairly bubbled over with excitement. “I’ve never seen newborns before. Aren’t they tiny! Look at those perfect little toes!”
      “They’ll grow,” Lenti said. “She’s Tela, and these two boys are En’geer and Krull.”
      Gur’mekh carefully pawed Tela and she looked up. “Can you see me, hon?” He concentrated, touching her with his paw. “Yes, you can. Not clearly, but you can.”
      “You can tell?” Demrath asked.
      “Oh yes. I’m a seer.” He smiled pleasantly. “Tell me, do you already have a ma’khim for them?”
      “Well--uh--no.”
      “I guess you wouldn’t consider me.”
      Lenti looked at Demrath and nodded slightly.
      “Uh--sure. It would be an honor.”
      Gur’mekh frowned slightly. “I know about my bad reputation. But I’ll be good. Better than good. This evening, I’ll hunt up a gazelle for old Amarakh to repay the one she thinks I stole. I’ll even patch things up with your okhim. By the way, how is Ber these days?”
      “Fine.” Demrath looked uncomfortable. He scratched behind an ear. “Don’t be offended, but isn’t this kind of sudden? I mean, what happened to you?”
      “It’s kind of personal.”
      “I didn’t mean to pry.”
      “No, I didn’t think you did.” He drew up close and in a low voice said, “Actually, there’s a certain bak’ret involved. You know, a chance I may be settling down with a wife and pups of my own. And I don’t want them to suffer from being associated with me.”
      “That’s very honest of you. And very noble.”
      “When did this happen?” Lenti asked, pressing Gur’mekh for details he was clearly unwilling to volunteer.
      “Last night. But I have to prove myself worthy of her. I must let nothing stand in my way of my one chance for happiness.”
      Demrath smiled. “Gur’mekh, we’ll have to hunt together sometime.”
      “I’d really like that. I hear you’re quite good.”
      Gur’mekh walked off, pleased as punch. He kept repeating the names of the pups to himself so he wouldn’t forget. “Yes, my children, I will give you things that Demrath could never provide for you. Some day a great empire will be yours and many will bow before you who now sneer at us.”

      For the next two weeks, Gur’mekh kept his word to Demrath, behaving as well as a priest at high moon. He did kill an antelope for Amarakh, and a couple of hares for good measure. He even said something nice to Ber, who almost fell back on his haunches with surprise.
      He brought a rabbit to seal the relationship as ma’khim to the pups, and spent hours playing with them.
      Even his father Gur’bruk noticed the change in him and congratulated him on making it through the “rough spots.” That meant more to Gur’mekh than he dared admit. Despite their love for each other, their relationship had been strained for months.
      “I hear that you’re interested in a bak’ret. I don’t know who, and I’m not going to pry, but son I’m proud of you for putting your priorities in order. Roh’kash really knows what’s best, and when you follow her will, you can’t help but be happy.” He took Gur’mekh aside where Kambra couldn’t hear them. “Frankly, son, for a while I was really worried about you, and so was your mother. She was having nightmares about you getting yourself exiled or killed. But the last week or so, she’s slept like a pup. I love you, son. I’ve always loved you, but lately I’ve really felt--well--so proud that I could just burst. Whatever you did, or however things turn out between you and your bak’ret, I hope you’re going to remember to reach for the stars.”
      Gur’mekh nuzzled his father and stroked him with a paw. “I love you, Maleh. I’m happier than I’ve ever been before, and things are going to all right from now on.”
      Gur’mekh gazed in his father’s eyes and felt the love there. He determined not to steal food from the Roh’mach or pull pranks on Ber. But the one thing he DID plan to do would stand out above all the rest.
      He was much less patient than Shimbekh was with Kambra. He wondered what he could do to gain the upper hand with Demrath. Enough time had passed to change his reputation, and he’d already secured custody of the pups if anything happened to Demrath. And more importantly, Lenti did not shrink away from him the way she used to do.
      Now there was a darker side to hyannic lore and magic. There were potions that opened the subject to powers and places beyond the experience of the ordinary mortal.
      A real seer would have been taught the hidden knowledge of the Hyannicha Uru’guth, the shamanic lore of their people. Gur’mekh was not the type to commit to that sort of lifestyle. He wanted the abilities, but not the responsibilities that went with it. It was a volatile mixture.
      He remembered his experience with Demrath on his wedding night, and felt the solution to his problem lay in such a link. For no one would willingly tell him the secret words under pain of death. Therefore he went to his mother as she slept and lay close by to her. He rolled on his back and murmured, “Lend me your thoughts, mother. Lend me your feelings, Mother. Lend me your eyes and ears, Mother. Let us be one.”
      He concentrated and at long last fell into a trance. Soon he found himself in her dream.
      It was a playful one--she was sparring with her sister Shimbekh. For a moment, he felt a little bad about what he planned to do, but he promised himself he would make it up to her. Besides, it was for the good of the race.
      “Hi, Muti!”
      “Gur’mekh!”
      Shimbekh took the opportunity to push Kambra to the ground. “Thanks, Gur’mekh!”
      “Cheater!” Kambra cried, trying to push off Shimbekh’s powerful body. “This is not over!”
      “I’d be careful if I were you,” Gur’mekh said. “I hear there are wild dogs out here.”
      “Wild dogs?” Shimbekh let Kambra up. Kambra dusted herself off, the conflict momentarily forgotten.
      “They were coming from that direction. Oh, look!”
      Gur’mekh concentrated with all his might. As he said, a pack of wild dogs came over the rise. One stood right in front of Shimbekh and said, “You are surrounded. Give no resistance and we’ll be quick and merciful.”
      The dogs quickly overwhelmed Shimbekh and began to tear away at her while she struggled and shrieked. Gur’mekh ran into the fray, managing to kill one of the dogs, but suffering bite after bite. “Muti, help me! Use the curse!”
      That was when the words came out. Words that shall not be written here or passed on in the lore to avoid the anger of the heavens.
      The spirit of Melmokh overshadowed them powerfully, and she commanded him that all the wild dogs be killed. They shrieked as one by one they fell to the ground bleeding from the nose, mouth and ears.
      Gur’mekh knew that he had the key to unlock his great future. Of course the one thing he did NOT do was explore how to control this force. That would haunt him for the rest of his life.
      Gur’mekh stumbled over to Kambra and kissed her. “I love you, Muti! I will spend the rest of my life showing the world your greatness.” He felt a little noble despite his theft. He withdrew from her dream, feeling quite proud of himself. Jumping up with triumph, he ran to his sleeping mother. But her expression of pain hurt him. He could sense that she was bent over Shimbekh’s dead body. Quickly he nuzzled her.
      “Muti! Wake up! You were moaning in your sleep!”
      She opened her eyes. “Oh gods, where is Shimbekh??”
      “She’s fine, Muti. You were just having a bad dream.”
      With mixed guilt and love, Gur’mekh nuzzled her as she lay on the ground. “I love you, Muti! Someday I’m going to make you proud of me.”
      “I’m already proud of you.” She smiled wonderfully and beautifully, and Gur’mekh’s heart melted, lost in the depths of her unconditional love.
      Gur’mekh trotted off, floating on a cloud of good feelings, but repeating to himself the words of damnation lest he should forget them in the hour of need.
      Seers were trained to keep Makei at bay by the words of binding and loosing. Of course, Gur’mekh had not been trained, and he did not know to ask for a binding spell.
      First, he caught a rabbit and choked off his wind.
      “Karfas of the Rising Sun, Melgath of the Setting Sun, hide me from the jealous eyes of night! Accept my sacrifice! A hare without blemish, no part of him consumed!” Then he spoke the words of fell significance.
      The dead rabbit stirred, and Gur’mekh jumped. In a deep voice, the hare said, “Who calls?”
      “Gur’mekh, son of Gur’bruk.”
      “And why have you disturbed my long sleep?”
      “Because vengeance is more satisfying than sleep!”
      There was a long pause. Then the rabbit said, “I am Melmokh, the great destroyer. I do not settle petty squabbles. Make it worth my while or you shall regret waking me.”
      Gur’mekh, drunk with his power, said triumphantly, “Petty squabbles! I desire the blood of my enemy, and I shall consecrate it to you!”
      “And who is your enemy?”
      “Demrath, son of Ber.”
      “And you bid me do this of your own free will?”
      “I do.”
      There was another quiet moment. Then in the distance Demrath came rushing madly from his cave, yelping and whining.
      Close on his heels was Lenti. “Demrath! Oh gods!” She began to run around him in tight little circles. “Help! Oh gods! Somebody help us!”
      Demrath crumpled to the ground, blood oozing from his nose, ears, and mouth.
      “Demrath! Don’t die! Oh gods! Don’t die, darling!”
      His trembling paw reached up and touched her cheek, then fell back limp.
      “No!!! Demrath!!!”
      His pups came out and gathered around the body. She began to shriek, and the pups howled pitifully over the body of their beloved okhim.