Doomseeds

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Doomseeds Page 12

by Tam Linsey


  But the beacon changed things. He’d be within his rights to surrender everyone to the hunters in the cave. Even if she pushed the button, she and the others would be dead before the Protectorate could arrive. Was he really asking too much? He was risking his life to guide them across the Tox. All for a few blankets and other odds and ends. Why?

  Blinking rain out of her eyes, she asked, “Why did Rann say Sefe is trading for Flame Runnas?”

  Lightning flashed overhead, and Jubal flinched, eyes on the sky. “He was trying to get us into the shelter, that’s all.”

  The storm was a great danger. And Jubal had never done anything to treat her or the others like prisoners. He’d even asked them to take part in night watch after they’d stumbled onto the duster attack. She had to trust him. Taking a deep breath, she placed it on his outstretched palm.

  He responded by urging her ahead of him toward the cave.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jubal skittered down the incline, legs braced against the slippery mud, one hand tight around Eily’s arm to keep her from falling. His other hand clutched the small black rectangle she’d given him so hard the edges cut into his palm. If he hadn’t been to the lightning wall and seen the magic the Flame Runnas possessed, he’d never have believed such a small thing could summon the flying machines. Could summon death. Had she planned to summon Flame Runnas to the Taguan all along?

  They entered the cave, and Eily stumbled to a halt next to Wint and Pulo where they crouched at the entrance. Wint’s eyes showed white as he watched the hunters clustered against the cave wall. The cannibal leader remained standing, spear in hand. Next to Lisius, hat removed and head bowed, Gid knelt, chanting.

  Without a word, Jubal joined Rann where he sat drinking from a bota beside the fire. He showed his brother the box and bent close. “Flame Runna magic to summon the flying machines.”

  Rann’s eyes widened. “Should we destroy it?”

  Jubal considered. Stranger things had been of use during his travels. Like the goats the rice tribes raised for food ending up carrying extra goods on the trade route. “She says there’s a button.” He found the hinge and opened the lid. Inside, a raised circle made it very plain how to use it. Snapping it shut, he said, “Never know when we might find a use. Let’s carry it awhile.”

  His brother tipped his head to one side, lips pursed, then shrugged. “I guess it could be a valuable trade.”

  While Rann took another swig of bitters, Jubal surveyed the six hunters. They kept their hands on their weapons, watching the newcomers with stony gazes. Other than the crackle of logs, the cave remained silent.

  After a time, Pulo spoke. “We must honor his flesh-feast.”

  Jubal looked over a shoulder. Pulo stood gazing down at Lisius’s body. Wint remained crouched as if to flee, his body nearly touching the spray from the rock overhang.

  The hunter leader said, “We demand the flesh as a toll.”

  “You broke the Peace!” Pulo’s voice rang against the walls of the small cave.

  All three spears lifted in his direction, and the other three hunters took wide stances to brandish their knives. The leader’s lip curled up in a snarl. “How do you keep your slaves without binding?”

  “We’re not slaves!” Pulo said.

  Jubal stroked the metal bits hanging from his staff so they tinkled against each other. His entire plan was about to come apart at the seams. He had to convince the hunters the Flame Runnas weren’t a threat. “Without their flying machines, the Flame Runnas are helpless. Where else can they go on the Tox?”

  The knuckles on the hunter’s spear-hand whitened, and he rocked back on his heels slightly.

  Jubal continued, “Your toll is too much. If I paid such a price to every tribe along the trail, I’d have no goods left to trade.”

  “Not our problem.”

  Jubal had encountered this threat before. Smiling, he raised his brows. “It will be when you reach the Taguan, and every trader there turns you away.”

  The cannibal didn’t lower his spear. “What do you counter?”

  They’d used up nearly all the food they carried feeding Gid. “Salt, cloth—”

  A shake of the cannibal’s head cut Jubal off. “We’ve already traded this season. A man dealing in Flame Runnas must offer something more worthy.”

  Jubal reached over and lifted the bota from Rann’s grasp. “Bitters from the Rice Tribes. A luxury.”

  “Three botas. Full.”

  Rann jerked the bota back. “Maybe they’d like an even rarer luxury. Flame Runna spirit healing.”

  Jubal’s throat tightened. What was his brother doing? Did he think these hunters would let them leave with three Flame Runnas once they experienced the spirit healing? Rann could barely keep his own hands off the merchandise, and he understood Pops’s life depended on them. These hunters wouldn’t hesitate to kill traders to take such valuable stock. Jubal jumped to his feet. “Two botas, plus the one my brother holds—all we have.”

  The hunter raised a hand, his men gathering behind him, their eyes hungry with curiosity. “The spirit healing is true, then?”

  Jubal untied a bota from his pack and shook his head. “No spirit healing. These slaves are Sefe’s, and I won’t risk harming them before we reach the One Tree.”

  Rann snorted and took another drink. “Sefe will never know, brother.”

  Jubal bared his teeth in a smile and prodded Rann with a toe until his brother clambered to his feet. “Excuse us a moment.”

  Rann followed a few steps toward the cave’s entrance where Eily and the others waited. Jubal rounded on him. He kept his voice low so the hunters wouldn’t hear him. “What are you doing?”

  “We’re out of food, and at least the bitters fill my belly. Why give away our supplies when the spirit healing costs nothing?”

  “It’s not ours to give.” Jubal glanced behind him to where Eily stood listening. “They don’t share their women.”

  “You’re always going on about using up the merchandise. I’m trying to help.”

  His brother had a point. The old Jubal would have agreed. But he couldn’t see Eily used like that. “We made a promise to get them to the Taguan safely.”

  His brother stared over Jubal’s shoulder at Eily. “I think you want her yourself, first. Take her. Sefe won’t care as long as we get them there alive.”

  Jubal hissed through a clenched jaw. He wanted to break every one of Rann’s teeth.

  “What?” Pulo asked.

  Gid asked Eily something, and she responded, her voice trembling. Gid sucked in a breath.

  Jubal clenched his fists. Lisius was already dead. Eily and the rest wouldn’t come peacefully if they found out they really were destined to become slaves. He was losing control. “Rann, you promised to let me handle things. Remember why we’re here.”

  Eily put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him around to face her. “You are slave traders.”

  He refused to meet her eyes as he shook his head. “No. I’ve never traded in slaves in my life.”

  “But you mean to trade us.”

  Rann grinned and stepped closer to her. “I wonder if you’re as potent as your sister?”

  With both hands, Jubal shoved Rann’s chest, knocking him away. He raised his voice to reach every cranny of the earthen walls. “My brother doesn’t speak for us.”

  The hunters murmured to each other. Rann regained his balance, balling his fists and glaring at Jubal beneath his brows—but he kept silent.

  Eily whispered, “Are you saying he’s lying?”

  Jubal let out his breath, still avoiding her eyes. She was one to talk. She’d intended to call the Flame Runnas upon them. He was surrounded by double-crossers.

  I’m no better.

  He shook off the thought. He didn’t have a choice. Pops’s life was at stake. He shot his brother a warning look before whispering to Eily, “If you’re not my property, I can’t protect you.”

  Pulo said, “Like you prote
cted Lisius?”

  Jubal thrust his chest out and glared at Pulo. “You’re a Flame Runna. Your kind doesn’t keep the Peace. Lisius should have waited to approach.”

  The hunter leader called across the fire, “You!”

  Jubal stayed focused on Pulo. “You can be my slave, or I can hand you to the hunters.” Without waiting for an answer, he spun to face the cannibals. “These slaves are already paid for. They’re not ours to share. You’ve taken the life of one. Have him, and I will find a way to explain to Sefe.”

  He wished he’d agreed to their exorbitant price from the start. The flesh-feast would keep the hunters from pursuing them when they left, and his group already had enough to carry without Lisius’s body.

  The leader tilted his head to look over Jubal’s group once more. “We want to experience the spirit healing.”

  For the first time, Gid said something, his voice firm and surprisingly calm. “Please you let us go in Peace.”

  Narrowing his eyes, the leader seemed to see Gid for the first time. “This is your Shaman?”

  Gid stood with his palms pressed together and his shoulders squared. The man’s scars did look a little like a Shaman’s, plus he was tending to the dead at this very moment. Jubal swallowed, mind jumping through solutions. He had to keep the hunters away from the Flame Runnas, or his whole party was doomed. Hunters would ignore trade law if the reward was big enough. He would be slaughtered and Eily and the other Flame Runnas tortured.

  But everyone respected the Knowing.

  The Knowing couldn’t be killed. But they could be slaves. Maybe he could take care of two problems; save the Flame Runnas and divest himself of Gid.

  He cocked his head at the hunter leader and raised his brows. “You need a Shaman?”

  Eily grabbed Jubal’s arm, digging her nails into his bicep. Did he really mean to trade Gid? Her betrothed barely spoke Cannibal. “He’s not a Shaman.”

  “He prays for the dead, yes?”

  She caught Gid’s solemn gaze across Jubal’s shoulder. Did he comprehend what was happening? She had to protect him. “Jubal, you promised to take us to my sister. All of us.”

  Across the fire, the hunter seemed to be gaining courage. He took a step toward her group, his gaze on Gid.

  Jubal leaned close to speak so the hunter couldn’t hear. “Gid is a Knowing. He’ll be safe with them and perhaps eventually escape back to the lightning wall. If the hunters taste your spirit healing, they’ll kill us to keep you for themselves.”

  The hunter eased closer to them. “A Knowing slave is not easy to keep. Would he come willingly?”

  “No!” Eily stumbled forward to block the hunter from her party. All she could think about was Gid in the hands of cannibals. He would practically throw himself onto the cook-fire for them.

  The man jerked to a stop, his bearded cheeks twitching. Then he bared his teeth and grabbed her. She squealed as his bruising grip pulled her against him. “Then I will have you.”

  His spear shaft dug into her shoulder blade as he wrapped his weapon arm around her. His breath smelled of bitter-root. The heat of his naked chest seemed to burn through the fabric of her bodice. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to rear back, but his hold was too strong. Straining her neck to keep her face away, she said, “Promise you’ll leave them alone first! Then I give myself freely.”

  “Stop,” Gid said from beside her.

  She opened her eyes.

  Gid stood with his shoulders back and jaw set, his pale lips the only indication of fear. He spoke in German. “I came on this journey to protect you, Eily. Trust in Gotte’s Wille.” Then he spoke Cannibal. “I give myself for Peace.”

  The hunter’s grip on her relaxed. She clutched the man’s shoulders, pressing her chest to his in a vain attempt to keep his attention. “No! Take me! Gid, I can’t let you!”

  Gid put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her away from the cannibal. “You must save your sister.”

  “There has to be another way.”

  From behind, Jubal’s hands clasped her arms and pulled her backward, away from Gid and the hunter. She struggled, kicking backward, scratching his hands, but he was too strong.

  To the cannibals, he said, “The spirit healing only lasts a short while. A Shaman is yours to keep.”

  “No!” Eily strained forward but couldn’t break free. “Gid, help me!”

  He looked over his shoulder. “I am.”

  Eily collapsed on the damp cave floor at Jubal’s feet, unable to tear her eyes from Gid’s broad back.

  The hunter looked Gid up and down. “And he will not run?”

  Gid put a hand on his chest and shook his head. “I come for Peace.”

  Twisting to peer at his comrades, the hunter shrugged one shoulder. The others murmured together, then nodded. He turned back to Gid and held out a hand.

  Gid accepted.

  Eily’s limbs were numb. The edges of her vision grew dark, and she leaned forward onto the dirt floor with both palms. This couldn’t be happening. Gid would never be able to convince them that he was a Shaman.

  Outside, the rain hissed and splattered while distant thunder rolled against the clouds.

  “Gid—” she croaked.

  He was at her side. Taking her hand, he drew her to her feet. “We don’t have much time.”

  She could barely feel his palm against hers. Her vision still threatened darkness. “Run away. Now. Just go.”

  With a thin-lipped smile he shook his head and squeezed her fingers. The hunter had retreated to his side of the fire. Jubal and Rann sat on this side again, drinking as if nothing had happened.

  Her eyes burned, and she fought to keep her face from crumpling. “I can’t let you go.”

  “You must. You have to find Ana.”

  “They think you’re a Shaman.”

  “Tell me what that is.”

  “A...” she struggled to find a word. “A religious leader. Sort of.”

  He brightened, raising his brows. “Perhaps I’ve been sent to teach them the path to God.”

  “Don’t be stupid! Their religion is nothing like yours. A Shaman helps guide the deceased spirit to the Mother. Wields the Knife during Hunger times. Can you do that? Put your hand to a killing blade?”

  His scarred face drained of color. He shook his head. “I will show them a better way. God wouldn’t put me here without a purpose.”

  “God didn’t put you here.” She lowered her forehead to press it against their clasped hands, closing her eyes. She whispered, “You have to escape from these hunters as soon as you can.”

  He pulled his hands from hers. “I promised to go with them.”

  “To hell with promises!” She grabbed his hands again, crushing his fingers. He seemed determined to die. Time and again, she’d dreaded seeing Gid killed on the Tox but never the terrible reality of separation—of not knowing when his end came. How long could he last alone among cannibals? How long until they discovered he was a fraud? “Your scars make killing you taboo only as long as they believe you’re a Shaman. If you see an opportunity to get away, you take it. Before they ask you to wield the Knife.”

  He frowned but didn’t argue. “What about you and the others? The traders betrayed us.”

  The space behind her eyes throbbed. She blinked it away. “Jubal says they’re just pretending we’re slaves. The trade laws protect us as goods.” But inside she had her doubts. Jubal had a quick answer for everything, yet Rann looked at her like a dog contemplating its neighbor’s bone. And what was this business about Sefe? She didn’t fully understand, but Sefe had her sister, so that was where she must go. “Plus I found the beacon.”

  “Good!” He closed his eyes and nodded vigorously. “As soon as you reach Ana, use it.”

  Pulo’s voice drew Eily’s attention. “So the flesh is ours?”

  He squatted by Lisius’s body. Nausea roiled inside her. “Pulo, no.”

  His face was hard. “No wasting.”

  She
checked on Wint, who hunkered by the entrance, biting his lip. How could she argue with them? They’d come back to the Tox to live this way. And she’d facilitated it. The horror left her paralyzed.

  Gid released her hands and approached Pulo. “I will pray for him.”

  On unsteady legs, she followed behind him to murmur in his ear, “They mean to eat him.”

  Pulo pulled out a knife, looking down into Lisius’s face. “You honor us with your flesh, brother.”

  “Wait,” she whimpered, knowing it was pointless. At the fire, Jubal and the others had shifted to watch, their faces unreadable in the dancing firelight. She scrambled for an excuse, anything to stop Pulo from making this final regression. But she came up blank.

  Gid knelt, holding a gentle hand toward Pulo’s knife. “Flame Runna meat is... toxic.”

  Pulo’s knife halted. He cocked his head. “I was never told this.”

  All the air left Eily’s lungs. Gid’s lie was brilliant, yet she could hardly believe he’d just told it. The Tox must be affecting him—first he’d allowed Jubal to think he was a Knowing, now this. She continued quickly, before Pulo doubted. “That’s because we’re not cannibals. You’re not a cannibal. Flame Runnas don’t need to eat. Why would you need to know such a thing?”

  At the fire, the tribe leader bared his teeth. “You would have traded us poisonous food?”

  Lifting his hands, palms out, Jubal said, “We didn’t know.”

  Rann bumped Jubal’s shoulder with the half-empty bota. “That’s not right. Didn’t Sefe say the flesh-feast was glorious when they shot down that flying machine?”

  Time seemed to halt as Eily processed Rann’s words. Flesh-feast? Flying machine? Scattered puzzle pieces slid into place. She wanted to say something, but the air was too thick to force her words out.

  Across the fire, the hunter with the bone labret in his upper lip pointed his knife at Gid. “The Shaman lies to us?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jubal’s pulse roared in his ears as he groped for an explanation.

 

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