by Tracy Lauren
Ever curious, I sneak a few steps closer, still maintaining my cover. At her feet there are maybe half a dozen small and ugly things. They appear to be some type of bug or bottom dweller. Without hesitation she kneels low, bringing her weapons down on them again and again. I wait under the cover of shadow, watching her, and preparing myself to take to hiding when she finds my kill lying not 20 paces from her current location. But, to my dismay, she does not do another perimeter check. Instead, she walks to the far side of the clearing and chooses herself a new nest at the base of a tree. This time she sits, leaning against it. Not more than two hours later her head is already rolling to the side.
I shake my head in disbelief. I am a confident fighter. Still, I would not rest the way she chooses to do. Either her planet does not have predators such as the ones here or she knows something I do not.
Once I’m sure she is asleep, I slip to the edge of the clearing once more and haul away my kill. I cannot allow it to fester near her nest, lest it attract something else that wishes to hunt my prey. I take it about 500 yards into the forest and leave it uncovered near a pile of bones—the abandoned killing grounds of another predator. Scavengers will find it soon enough, perhaps before I can even return to my hiding place in the tops of the trees.
It isn’t long after I do that the sun begins to brighten the world. I watch the clearing intently and the warrior starts to rouse. I imagine she has very little night vision based on the way she now takes in her surroundings. It is almost like she is seeing it all for the first time.
She returns to the ugly things she killed the night before. I did not move them, as small as they were. I didn’t imagine they’d attract anything dangerous.
Kneeling next to the dead creatures, she gazes upon them studiously. I wonder what could be so interesting that she would need to inspect them for so long? When she’s done, she stalks the clearing again, stopping to look at every leaf, plant, and insect. She gasps over the green and purple stalks of a plant and shakes her head at the white furred flowers hanging from it. She even lingers over the pale blue moss hugging the trees. And when she finally looks upon those trees with wonder, I bring myself in closer to the trunk I’m on, blending in with the bark to remain hidden. Other than a few gasped breaths, she is utterly silent. For the life of me, I cannot fathom the intent and purpose behind her actions.
Eventually, she finds a rock and takes a seat. Her vibrant garments are quickly losing their luster, now smudged with layers of dust and dirt. I wonder again briefly if they might be ceremonial in their nature.
She stares for a long while at her weapons and her bare feet. Does she contemplate wearing them versus wielding them? Eventually she stands and moves to exit the clearing, deciding to go barefoot, I see.
I ready myself to continue pursuit but am surprised yet again when she chooses to go in an unanticipated direction. Upon leaving the clearing, she orients herself back the way we came. Is she going back to Kosi’s dome? Or does she have some other plan?
Curious and confused, I follow close behind. She treads more slowly today, perhaps saving her energy for when she faces me. It will not be this day however. There is still too much of her behavior that I do not understand the reasoning behind. She is still too alien to me.
After hours of walking, she changes direction again, making a wide arc to double back once more. I have yet to determine her end game and begin to worry she is aware of my presence and simply toying with me. I drop back a few paces but keep my attention on her body language, looking for some sign that she sees me.
When she turns again, seemingly altering her path without reason, I begin to become frustrated. It is not my way to track an adversary for so long, and when she continues to do things without any obvious reason, I find my patience waning. We are nearly back at the clearing when I realize how close we are to the creature I killed and discarded last night.
On the air I can smell death, likely made more potent by scavengers. But this does not seem to deter the warrior. Instead, she heads directly toward the odor. I grind my teeth together, hoping at the very least I will get some answers once she clears the next hill and comes across the carrion.
I pull closer, eager to watch what events might play out. She stops so abruptly on the crest of the hill that I nearly lose my footing. The dead creature is not far ahead, but my attention is on the female. She stumbles backward and covers her mouth, aghast. Even though she muffles herself I can still hear the soft and flowing sounds of her language, but the words are nonsense to me. It is not something my translator has picked up yet, I suppose.
But my true surprise is the behavior that follows. She drops to her knees and begins to dry heave. Her body trembles and the sounds she makes are more foreign to me than her language. I frown, unhappy with her stance. She does not look like a warrior when she does this.
I am distracted by my prey, not giving my full attention to the wilderness, when a nearby sound pulls me from my assessments. Not far away, partially camouflaged by the trees, something approaches. She stops her heaving but does not seem to notice the steadily advancing danger, lurking not far from our current position.
Perhaps she is ill? I have not seen her drink water today and she did not bring any of the supplies offered to her back at Kosi’s dome. I frown, thinking that perhaps this warrior is too sure of herself. Could she be so blinded by her own confidence that she does not take care of her most basic needs?
There is no more time to consider it however. The beast is within view now. I stiffen, eager to see my warrior in action. This will be my first opportunity to assess her combat style. It is less than twenty paces and closing and she has still yet to look up. I can smell the beast from here and wonder why she does not seem to notice its odor.
The closer the beast gets, the more I am able to discern about it. The most obvious trait is its size. At its shoulders it stands at least two heads taller than my prey. The beast’s neck is encircled by a thick mane and its elongated face ends in a muzzle filled with razor-sharp teeth. Already it bares them at my prey.
I watch her, waiting to see what move she will make, but she makes none. She keeps her head bent to the ground, recovering from whatever fit she had. I don’t think she’ll notice the beast until it’s too late. Why won’t she notice it? The beast hunches down low, preparing to strike. My adrenaline moves me. I look around hurriedly, then rip a branch from the tree and hurl it in her direction. It lands a few feet in front of her and she jolts, startled. Finally she sees the beast.
The piercing scream my prey lets loose reminds me of a battle I once witnessed, where a gladiator was brought to death by flames. The sound cuts through the air and even the beast does not seem to know what to make of it. For one fleeting second, I think that this might be her battle cry, until I see her limbs flailing.
She scrambles backwards inelegantly, taking too long to gain her footing. When she finally does, she turns and runs. My heart drops in disappointment. My warrior seems frightened. This beast is only a quarter of the size of a dhiragoni, if that…yet she flees?
Enchanted by her flight, the beast rears up before breaking into pursuit. Just as soon as the female’s scream dies away, she sucks in enough breath to let loose another, calling anything and everything that might be lurking nearby. I growl my distaste and press after them, still processing her reaction.
With disgust, I watch her try to escape. It is a pitiful sight, as she trips and stumbles between the trees. She seems to spend more of her time scrambling on the ground than she does actually making forward progress.
She clings to her weapons and I try to will her to turn and use them on the beast, but she does not. Her only saving grace is the fact that she has haphazardly run into a thicket of trees so dense that the beast has difficulty mowing his way through them. He is strong though and his shoulders knock younger trees over, tearing their roots from the ground. He forces his way after her and the distance between the pair is closing fast. I speed up, anticipating th
at this is not a battle she will win.
Suddenly, she falls from my view as if the very ground she stood upon simply dropped out from beneath her and her latest scream is cut short.
The beast lunges forward and I find myself shocked when he, too, disappears from my sight. I hesitate for a mere second, then drop from the trees to continue the chase on foot. In a few short strides I am at the place where the pair vanished and I skid to a halt. The terrain breaks away and I find myself overlooking a tall cliff. I steady my footing at the edge, looking down a steep and rocky slope. At the bottom, the beast lie broken. I scan the valley for my prey, not seeing her right away.
Just as I’m about to turn away, I hear a gasp and the sound of tumbling rocks. I adjust my line of sight. A few feet below me, clinging to the rocks, is my prey. Seeing me for the first time, she lets out a series of whimpers and a long string of gibberish.
I can see her face more clearly now; what I assumed was war paint is now smudged with dirt and streaked by tears. When her eyes lock onto me there is a level of fear in them that both thrills me and leaves me feeling disappointed. She tries to stifle a series of sobs and hysterical screams by burying her face in the side of the mountain to which she clings. A rock shifts and tumbles down to the valley below and my prey lets out a yelp of surprise. Her grip is precarious. If I do not get to her quickly the Ihasa will be right, this world will hold the credit for her death.
“Hold on tight and do not allow this mountainside to kill you, female. That is to be my honor alone,” I tell her firmly, but she is too lost in another of her fits to hear me.
I hurry to a nearby corpse of a tree, smothered to death by a long and creeping vine. I yank and pull at it until I have a desirable length, then cut it with my blade. Once I have it secured, I lower myself over the cliff’s edge.
Seeing me again inspires another wild bout of screams. As I near her, she makes the poor decision to attempt escape.
“Be still,” I tell her in a calm voice, reaching one opened palm toward her. She is frantic, so I try to soothe her in the way one might soothe an animal. Still, she backs away. Driven by fear, her movements are erratic. With nothing more than escape on her mind, she fails to secure the footing she needs. She slips, and before I can grab her, she begins to bounce her way down the rocky slope. She’s going to break like the beast did. I release the slack on my vine and dive for her. Her body slams into me and I successfully steal her from death’s grip. Still, when she looks upon my face she shrieks.
“Silence!” I hiss at her. At the sound of my voice she recoils, slipping out of my grip and hitting a rock. I grab her again before she can tumble any further.
This time she clings to me, finally beginning to understand that I do not wish for her to perish on this mountain.
“R ewe hear tu saav me?” she implores, her eyes wide and desperate.
“I do not have a translation for this, but it does not matter. I forbid you to die on this mountain or on any others, for that matter. You belong to me. When you die it will be at my hands and only when I deem you ready.”
Her eyes well with tears and her arms wrap around my neck. “Thangk ewe,” she whispers. Our gazes lock and I see that her eyes look tired. She blinks slowly. Something red trickles down the side of her face.
“You are bleeding, prey,” I growl at her. She does not hear me, though, because she chooses that moment to go limp in my arms. I grit my teeth, frustrated by the inconvenience. In that moment I resolve to kill the Ihasa. Before it was just an idea, now it is a plan. He knew how weak this human would be, and still, he passed her off to me.
Though vengeance will be sweet, it will be served cold. My first priority is my prey. I refuse to bring dishonor to my name by killing something so pathetic and weak, and forfeit is not an option.
What He’Rokvska Naa does, he does with the whole of his being.
The only option I have left is to train this female and make a true warrior out of her. Then she will face me in battle…and then I will kill her.
Chapter 8
Purity
When I awaken I’m in a cave, the walls of which are smooth, black, and faceted in some places, reminding me of Obsidian Dome, a place my family used to go camping when I was a kid. A wave of relief washes over me when I realize I’m in an enclosed space and not out in the open—vulnerable. As my brain slowly rouses, I register the sound of movement nearby. I follow the noise with my eyes and see the…man…that rescued me.
Though, I don’t know if “man” is exactly the right word for him. I mean, he’s male, obviously. Not that I can see his junk or anything, but the vibes coming off of him are unmistakable.
I stare at him, taking in the reality of what stands before me. This guy has got to be the size of a bodybuilder, if not larger. He wears worn trousers and boots, though he seems to have misplaced his shirt. His waist is muscled and lean, while his chest and shoulders are broad and imposing. He’d scare the shit out of me if he didn’t just risk himself to save my life.
But the most striking and conspicuous of his physical attributes isn’t his size or fashion choices. It’s the fact that he isn’t human. He’s a lizard man.
Literally. He’s part lizard. Part man. Tinted a greenish brown and scaled from head to toe. There’s no hair on his head. Instead, it’s crowned in short, stubby, bone-like horns. There seem to be additional spikes trailing down his spine, only they’re of a different shape and consistency. In contrast to the short and stubby ones on his head, these are long, thin, and appear pliable to the touch.
He doesn’t have ears like a human, more like an indent in the general region instead. And his eyes…his eyes are seared into my brain. A large black pupil resides in the center, ringed by a halo of light. And the part that would be white on a human is marbled brown and gold. They’re entrancing to gaze into, it’s like looking into a welcoming abyss.
When he reached for me on the cliffside, I noticed his hands and fingers were longer and larger than any human’s would ever be. There’s so much about him that’s foreign…alien, even…I can’t even begin to note it all. But despite all of this, I know he’s here to help me.
I try to sit up, but my vision swims and my body screams in protest. I suck in a breath of air, garnering my savior’s attention. He turns to look at me but does not approach.
“This is the third time I’ve woken up,” I joke, forcing a smile. “I guess we can rule out the notion of this is all just a bad dream, huh?” My head continues to spin and I hold my hands over my eyes, blocking out the light. Though we are in a cave, the mouth of it is gaping, allowing daylight to spill inside.
I cringe. “I’m sorry, I think I’m going to be sick—” I manage to get out, just before I turn to the side and puke. Well, my body tries its best to puke. But there’s nothing in my stomach, not even water. So, I mostly just dry heave. My pain and discomfort is so great I don’t have the mental space to be embarrassed in front of this guy.
Though my eyes are pressed tightly shut, I sense my new friend cross the cave and kneel down beside me. He positions himself away from the sunshine and in my mind, I know he is being conscious and considerate of how dizzying it is to look into the light right now. When the world stops spinning and my stomach settles, I open my eyes and force myself up on one elbow.
I want to make some self-deprecating joke to lighten the mood, but I feel so terrible that I can’t even form words. My hands are shaking, and though I’m sweating, my body is covered in goosebumps.
The lizard man says something to me. He can speak. I remember he tried talking with me when he saved me on the cliff. Unfortunately, his words are incomprehensible. Luckily, he gestures too and I notice he’s holding out a well-used, leather pouch. I look at it, unsure of what he’s trying to convey. He sees my hesitation and shakes the pouch for me so I can hear the water sloshing inside.
“Water? Oh, Thank you!” I gasp, pulling the spout to my lips. I gulp it down ravenously. As I do the words that spill from hi
s lips sound hasty and gruff. A second later my stomach revolts again. This time it isn’t empty. All the water comes up, splashing the ground at his feet. To my horror, it splatters onto his boots.
I gasp for air, trembling again. “I suppose that’s what you were trying to tell me,” I struggle to say. He pushes the water pouch back in my direction, seemingly unaffected by my vomit session. “Small sips?” I say lamely and I think I see him nod.
This time, I only allow myself to take a little, wetting my tongue and throat, before handing it back to my lizard nurse. “Thank you,” I tell him. He begins to rise, but I grab him by the wrist. A slow and steady clicking sound comes from his throat and he stares at my hand on his scaled skin.
The feel of him is otherworldly. He’s smooth, though at the same time hardened and impenetrable. We both look down at the contact between us.
“Thank you,” I say again. “You saved my life.” I don’t know if he understands my words, but my heart is in them and I think he can see the gratitude on my face. Slowly, I release my hold on him and he rises to stand over me.
He’s a tower. A giant. And he’s here to protect me.
Chapter 9
He’Rokvska Naa
My prey is in bad shape. Severely dehydrated, bruised on every visible inch of her body, and likely on all the places that aren’t visible as well. I need to check her over to see if there is any more serious damage that needs tending. I open the small pouch I carry on my hip. Inside I carry a water purifying lens, a scanner, and my personal emergency beacon—it will connect with Sarran if activated, sending him my coordinates. No matter where I am in the galaxy, Sarran will find me.