by Leslie Chase
For a moment, I thought we’d gotten away with it.
Then someone on the other side of the doorway called out a question. Ronan cursed, turned, and threw the body inside to crash into whoever was coming. Then he was off, bounding away into the darkness, and I followed in his wake.
That had been our one chance of making it out. With a head start we might have made it, put too much distance between ourselves and the camp before they realized we’d gone. Now, though? With pursuit hot on our heels, we wouldn’t last ten minutes.
Not together anyway. Ronan moved fast and silent while I blundered in the dark. He might still make it, but not with me. Looking down at the flashlight I realized what I had to do.
Switching it back on, I turned away from Ronan’s path and sprinted, not caring about the noise I made. I’d given up on escape, and anything that drew the zrin hunters’ attention to me helped now. I needed the light anyway — prytheen eyes might keep Ronan from running into a tree in the night but I was blind.
Small branches whipped at me, caught in my hair, slowed me, but I kept going. Kept focused on the forest ahead of me, determined to keep the pursuers from catching me for as long as possible. I didn’t look around, didn’t try to see Ronan’s face one last time.
If I saw the pain I knew he’d feel now, I’d never be able to do this.
19
Ronan
I looked back through the thick foliage, seeing my khara run for her life. My hand clenched into a fist and I started to do the obvious thing, to rush to her side and kill the zrin warriors who chased her. To fight and slay until they brought me down with their numbers.
All that stopped me were her words. The heartfelt plea to go on without her, to live. But what kind of life would it be, having found her and lost her again?
The steady light of her flashlight stopped as she ran out of space to maneuver, trapped by the pursuers. Becca had been right, of course, she had no hope of outrunning them. Not on her own, and not with me. The joint escape had been a desperate hope.
If I am to save her, it will not be here and now, with no weapons but my claws. That much was obvious — charging in would leave us both dead. Still I stayed and watched, ready to race to the rescue as the enemy closed in around her.
Becca’s voice carried through the night, though her words weren’t for me. Speaking in Eskel, she shouted a challenge. My heart swelled for the bravery of the female that fate had chosen for me, and I let out a quiet breath of relief as someone answered. They were speaking.
That meant that she had a chance, but I would not if I stayed. If she could turn them against Korhmar, she might yet win this. If not, she would still be a useful prisoner. Me, they would kill.
Wasting this one chance to go and get help would doom Becca as surely as it would me, so I turned into the darkness and moved as fast as possible.
I held little hope for my lover’s brave plan. Speaking to the zrin who had chosen to follow Korhmar would only delay her death. Hopefully, it would delay it long enough for me to come to her rescue.
Not all the warriors followed her trail, and as I turned my attention back to my escape I realized how close the others had gotten. Too close for comfort — these were skilled hunters and staying ahead of them would be a challenge.
I blessed my training, and the harsh men who’d beaten the rules into my skull. A hunter who loses track of where he is dies. A hunter who leaves a trail for predators to follow dies. Keeping to those rules was almost an instinct now, and they served me well. Leaving as little trace of my passage as I could, I loped into the darkness.
The hunters followed, casting about for my trail when I broke it, but each time I thought I’d gotten away they found a sign.
I cursed under my breath as I pushed on, looking for the landmarks I’d noted on our way in. There, the fallen tree. That patch of strange, luminescent fungi. Each point marked a step closer to the flier.
But once I reached it, I would need time to get it ready for the air. Perhaps only minutes, perhaps hours, but some time was inevitable. My pursuers were bound to catch me while I worked.
My lips pulled back from my teeth in a snarl. Good. My anger boiled at leaving Becca behind, and I longed to fight the enemy rather than avoid them.
The canopy opened above me as I found the gorge carved out by the flooded river. Stars blinked in the sky, one of Crashland’s moons flitting past overhead, and I paused to listen.
Three of the zrin had kept up when the others gave up the chase. Three armed, skilled warriors who knew this planet versus me, alone. The wind shifted, bringing me their scent, and I suppressed a growl as I recognized the warrior who hurt Becca.
Perfect. I owed him for that and would feel no guilt about slaying him.
I doubled back quickly, leaping up into a tree. My claws dug into rough bark, strange sap sticking to me as I hauled myself onto a branch and settled in to wait.
It wasn’t long before the hunters passed by below me. They each carried spears at the ready, spread out to keep watch for signs of my trail. But none of them thought to look up.
Did they think I was a coward, so intent on fleeing that they had nothing to fear? Were they simply overconfident? Or did they not imagine I could climb? I would never know.
When the last of them passed below me I dropped on him with a battlecry that split the night. The warrior froze for a vital moment and my claws opened his neck before he recovered.
Around us, the forest awoke in pandemonium. Animals squealed in alarm, fleeing my roar, and confusion reigned. My hand closed on the haft of the warrior’s spear, snatching it from his dying hands and leaping to attack his companions.
My first thrust nearly finished another of the zrin. Razor sharp stone sliced open his arm as he blocked desperately, sacrificing one limb rather than take the blow to his neck. One-handed, he launched his spear at me. It flew past my face as I dodged, and he pulled a knife from his belt.
I ignored that danger, barreling in close and driving my shoulder into his chest. Something cracked inside him and he let out a pained gasp, dropping to the forest floor and struggling for breath.
My chest stung, and I glanced down to see that I hadn’t gotten away unscathed. A long, shallow cut across my ribs marked where he’d tagged me with his knife, blood flowing freely. But he was out of the fight. That left one.
The remaining zrin turned towards me, his sharp teeth bared and a sadistic look in his eyes. The loss of his fellow hunters meant nothing to this man — he was here for the thrill of hunting me down. That suited me: ever since he’d hurt my khara, he’d been a dead man walking.
A chance to repay that debt was welcome, though this wasn’t the circumstance I’d have chosen. He was still fresh, while I was injured. He had spent his life practicing with a spear, and I had never studied that weapon.
But he stood between me and the only chance I’d have to rescue Becca. Nothing would stop me from freeing the human I loved.
I launched myself at him, grabbing the spearhead as he thrust at my chest. Razor-sharp stone bit into my hand as I pulled his spear aside, stabbing in return. The warrior’s reflexes were better than I’d expected, and he grabbed my spear’s haft. His tail flicked round, lightning-fast, wrapping around my throat and squeezing as we struggled for control of the weapons.
As my vision dimmed, I let go of my spear and let him pull it from my grip. Sensing victory he flung it aside and hissed into my face.
I grinned back, extended my claws, and sliced up into the warrior’s stomach. Caught by surprise, he staggered back, and I slashed his throat before he could recover.
The three hunters lay dead or dying around me as I sucked in deep breaths to recover. Blood ran from my left hand and my chest, and I had nothing to bind the wounds with. My healing trance called to me, but that wasn’t an option. I had so little time.
Turning my back on the zrin, I picked up a spear to lean on as I walked. The flier had to have washed up somewhere along the riverbank
. Becca was counting on me to find it fast.
20
Becca
My voice trembled but I kept my chin up as I faced down the hunters. It took a deliberate effort not to look out into the dark forest. Somewhere out there, Ronan was making his escape under cover of my distraction and I wouldn’t endanger that. If I gave him the chance to escape, then what happened to me wouldn’t matter. And maybe, just maybe, he’d actually manage to save me.
“You have been lied to,” I said, as loudly as I could, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt. “Korhmar is not one of your sky gods, no more than I am.”
Athena flapped above me, a strange and alien bird to the zrin. I hoped her presence would add some weight to my words. At least the zrin hadn’t simply killed me; that meant things were going better than I feared.
No one answered so I pressed on. “We’re no more magical than you are, no more powerful. We just have technology you don’t, that’s all. Korhmar wants to rule you, but all we want is to be friends.”
It might be hard to convince Ronan of that, but I knew he’d listen to me when he came back. If he made it back, that was. My heart ached at the thought of him out there on his own — this had been my idea, but he was facing all the danger alone.
Oh, sure, and I’m nice and safe here. I almost laughed at myself, looking at the angry warriors standing around me. How many of them even understood Eskel? For most of them I was doing the equivalent of shouting in Latin.
I heard the hissing of the zrin language and muttering spread through the night around me. Some of the zrin villagers translated for the rest? I hoped so: if they listened, then the tide might turn in my favor.
“Korhmar came from the sky to show us the true way,” the closest of the warriors said after a long pause. He wore twists of metal around his arms and held a flashlight. That seemed to mark him as important. “He has powers the temple never gave us.”
Others muttered, unconvinced. Some of the zrin had profited from Korhmar’s gifts, but more had suffered. Unfortunately, those who’d joined him had the weapons — but weight of numbers might matter more.
“He has tools, not magic,” I insisted, hope swelling. As long as we kept talking, I had a chance to convince them to turn on Korhmar and his thugs. “He took those tools from my people, the humans. His own don’t work here.”
“Lies!” The alien saw how the crowd responded to my words and decided to put a stop to it. Darting forward, his hand blurring in a punch that would have lifted me off my feet if another zrin hadn’t blocked it.
“Let her speak,” my rescuer said, pulling the attacker back. “What if she tells the truth? She speaks the sky tongue better than Korhmar did when he fell from the stars.”
I didn’t know how may zrin had gathered in the darkness. Looking around I saw dozens of pairs of eyes gleaming in the shadows, swallowed, and cursed my luck. Public speaking to save my life? A nightmare.
Better than running into a jungle and getting eaten by tengers, I told myself. Just.
“We don’t know your sky people,” I told them. “But Korhmar is a prytheen, and I’m a human. We come from the stars, but we’re not so unlike you.”
More muttering, but the ones who wore wire armbands snarled at the rest. And they made up the majority of the armed zrin. Korhmar had chosen his collaborators well.
“Silence,” one shouted. “We have seen the sky powers Korhmar has. With them, he will rule all the world, and we with him. You cannot offer us the same.”
“That’s because it’s not true,” I snapped. No chance of convincing him, but the rest might listen. “It’s easy to offer something you have no intention of delivering. Korhmar has strength, yes, but it’s stolen—”
A slap rocked me off my feet, dropped me onto my back. Athena’s shriek made the warrior flinch back long enough for me to scramble up to my feet, and around me the crowd surged forward. They grabbed for the guards’ weapons, wrestled with them. For a moment I thought I might have sparked a rebellion, that I might have won.
The collaborators were the biggest of the zrin, and they held all the weapons. But there were more of the others, many more, and if they all fought back…
A loud crack of superheated air finished that line of thought for me. The zrin who’d stood in my defense tumbled to the ground, a neat hole burned through his chest.
All eyes turned toward the source of the sound. Korhmar stood at the edge of the clearing, his laser rifle raised to fire.
“I will strike down any who doubt,” he rasped. His sky-speech wasn’t clear, but it was understandable. Just our luck that the pirate was educated. “Do not betray the gods.”
Around me the crowd shuffled back, staring at the fallen zrin. Korhmar stalked forward, lowering the weapon now that no one challenged his position. Stepping out of the shadows and into the light, his eyes flickered around the zrin. I had a nasty feeling that he was taking note of who had defied him.
Let’s hope he doesn’t have a chance to do anything about that. If all I’d done was get the zrin who rose up against him killed, I’d hate myself.
Or more likely I’d be dead alongside them. I swallowed, trying not to think about that. Ronan would be back in time, he’d save me. He had to.
Korhmar towered over me, half his face a terrible scar from the crash and eyes burning with hate. His easy grip on the laser rifle at his side dissuaded any resistance from the gathered zrin.
“Ronan will return for you,” he said, echoing my thoughts with a grin. “That is the only reason to keep you alive, human — as bait.”
Hiding my fear, I folded my arms. “He’ll be back alright. With help from Auric and the Joint Colony, and with enough warriors to deal with your pathetic gang.”
My glare hid my doubts. Maybe Ronan had stuck to the plan, gone for help. Or maybe he was still in the forest waiting for a chance to rescue me. I hoped not — against these odds even he didn’t stand a chance, no matter how great a warrior he was.
Korhmar knew that too. He reached out with a clawed finger to touch my cheek, making me flinch away. Looking into the forest, he roared a challenge.
I held my breath, counted seconds as they passed. No answering call, no Ronan charging to my rescue. Half relieved and half despairing, I let the breath out.
“See? He’s long gone. You won’t get him.” I forced a smile. “But he’ll get you when he returns.”
Something vicious sparked in the prytheen’s eyes and I took a quick step back before I got control of myself. His scarred face loomed over me, teeth bared, and I shuddered.
“Perhaps,” he hissed. “But if he’s gone for Auric’s help, he’ll be too late to save you.”
Turning to the zrin audience, he switched to Eskel. “Rejoice,” he told them. “This she-demon will be a fine sacrifice to my brother-gods. We will take her to the temple tomorrow and offer her blood on the altar and call the other gods to us.”
Mutterings followed that, unhappy zrin looking at each other and at me. Even if they didn’t approve of human sacrifice, though, they weren’t willing to challenge their self-proclaimed god-king.
Korhmar turned back to me with a nasty grin. “If Ronan won’t take the bait, I can still use you to cement my hold on these primitives. Other prytheen will come to join me, and Auric can’t send enough warriors this far to challenge my rule.”
“Your hold on them won’t last forever,” I told him. “They’ll see through your lies and kill you.”
I believed every word, but it was small comfort. Even if I was right, I’d be long dead before they turned on him.
“We’ll see, I suppose,” Korhmar said, unconcerned. “Or at least I will. You won’t be around to find out.”
He nodded to his guards and they dragged me back to the cell. This time guards stood outside it, watching for another escape attempt. I huddled in the corner, waiting for the dawn.
The temple stretched into the sky above me, a mountain leading to my doom. Korhmar’s loyalist guards half
-dragged, half-carried me up the stairs. Korhmar himself led the way, his injured face turned from me. That was a small mercy.
Other zrin followed, some keen to see this through, others frightened. None resisted. Korhmar’s brutality had thoroughly cowed the villagers. That wasn’t a surprise, but it was a disappointment.
‘Disappointment’? I’m going to die up there. I didn’t even have the strength left to laugh at myself. This was the end for me. Even if Ronan was still alive — and I was sure he’d escaped the pursuers, Korhmar would have gloated about it if he hadn’t — he couldn’t possibly have gotten help yet. He wouldn’t even be back at the Joint Colony.
It was a small comfort to know that he’d avenge me. The pain he’d feel once he learned of my death didn’t bear thinking about. I knew with a bone-deep certainty that he’d rather die than survive me.
That’s fair. I’d rather die than live without him, too. I had the comfort of knowing that I’d saved him, and that would have to be enough.
The zrin guards let go of my arms and I realized that we were at the top of the temple. My morose thoughts had distracted me from the climb, but now that we stood here I tried to savor the view. Jungle stretched in all directions except the mountains beyond the temple. The river, back to a shallow stream now that the storm had passed, trickled into the jungle. Somewhere down there the flier had washed up on a mudbank, and either Ronan had gotten it fixed or he hadn’t.
I tore my eyes away and glared at Korhmar. He smiled as well as his scarred face allowed.
“Your khara may be out there somewhere, human,” he said in prytheen. “But you will not see him again. And I will punish him for this wound with your death. If he returns I’ll give him your head as a reminder before I kill him.”