by Lucia Ashta
I rankled at Pumpoo’s response far more than Dean seemed to, and I admired his resolve. I was ready to tear at the nasty little man with my bare fingers. If Rane’s clenching muscles were any indication, he was ready to do the same.
“The sacred purpose of the Ooba was a fabrication,” Dean said as if he’d long suspected it. I hadn’t. “Why?”
“Why? Why you ask? Are you that stupid that after all this time you still can’t see the obvious before your eyes?” Dean didn’t answer. Pumpoo didn’t expect him to. He said, “I prefer to keep my secrets to myself. Things go much better that way, but I don’t suppose there’s any harm in telling you now. You won’t be around much longer to interfere, nor will any of your ridiculous forcers. Dragons have faithum, lots and lots of faithum. It’s been right in front of your eyes all this time, and yet you didn’t see it.”
He chuckled. “I tell you faithum is forbidden, so you don’t look for it. You don’t see it when it’s alive and in movement all around you, flapping its wings overhead all the time.”
I flicked a glance upward at the dragons. I saw the blue and green dragons, which Dune and Luma had ridden, along with several others.
Pumpoo didn’t seem concerned with the beasts above. “The dragons contain so much faithum that it was worth my while to learn to harness it. I was waiting for one of you to be able to ride the beasts, but that never happened. I had to go outside of the Ooba to find a tribe wise enough to be able to do that.”
“We didn’t manage it because you did nothing but limit us with your lies,” Dean said.
“No one limits you but you.” Pumpoo narrowed his eyes at Dean. “You’re the only one to blame for believing what was easiest. A person is supposed to question what he’s told. At least that’s what the brilliant ones, like myself, do. It’s not my fault that you were so ready to eat the lies I hand fed you. Your abilities are limited by what you believe. You limited yourself. You denied yourself faithum.” He shook his head ruefully—a mockery. “To think you spent your everyday with dragons, loaded with faithum, and you never realized it.”
“Oh that’s not true.”
“That’s right. How could I forget that pathetic little show of faithum when I managed to turn the entire tribe against you?”
Dean looked at Dune, and I realized Dune was saying something. It must’ve been to hurry Dean. Pumpoo didn’t seem worried enough about the hold Dune had on him.
Pumpoo said, “This little show of faithum is more impressive. The shadow people understand more than you do. But it’s not enough to hold me. None of you are enough to hold me.”
My faithum crackled. Whatever the sniveling heap of flesh was saying, he was right about one thing. We were only as limited as we believed ourselves to be. I had to believe that.
“I’ve grown bored of this,” Pumpoo said. “It’s time for me to be going.”
“Wait!” Dean said. “If you have nothing to worry about as far as us, then won’t you illuminate us more as to your brilliance? I’d like to understand all you’ve done to manipulate us to do your will.”
For the first time, I saw Pumpoo hesitate. “There isn’t enough time in the day to tell you of all I’ve done to manipulate you, but I suppose you’re right. It would be a shame not to share my brilliance with you, even if you’d only understand for a few moments before I kill you all.”
“You plan to kill all of us here, is that what you’re saying?”
“Isn’t it obvious? You’re of no use to me anymore. You know too much to be subservient. With all of you out of the way, the Ooba will embrace me as their hero. I alone survived a brutal fight with the savage shadow people.”
“You plan to kill them too? The people who welcomed you among them?”
“A shame, for they’re far smarter than you all, but yes. I’ll keep one or two to teach me how they access the faithum of the dragons enough to ride them, but I don’t need more than that. I think I’ll take that girl, the one who stands next to your twins.”
Anger rushed through me, but Luma’s energy didn’t shift. I remembered she didn’t understand what Pumpoo was saying, though she certainly must be able to read the general threat he posed.
Dean said, “You would even kill Yoon, who’s always protected you?”
Pumpoo didn’t even spare Yoon a searching glance. “He’s served his purpose.”
“You spun a different version of your lies for your emissaries.” It wasn’t a question.
“Of course. I’m masterful at what I do. Everyone wants to feel special, even if they aren’t.”
Poor Yoon, I thought before I could stop myself and remember he’d just tried to kill me and my siblings.
“And the seers? Did you spin them lies too?” Dean asked.
“There was no need. They gave me their true prophecies. I gave the Ooba people whatever I wanted.”
“But... weren’t there those that heard the prophecies along with you?”
Aye, like Yoon, I thought.
“Of course not. The seers aren’t from this land. They don’t speak the Ooba language.”
Damn Yoon and his ‘basically’ hearing the seer’s prophecy. He hadn’t heard a thing. If he’d heard anything, it was Pumpoo’s ‘interpretation’ of the prophecy.
“I alone heard their prophecies, as it was meant to be.” Pumpoo looked like he actually believed his self-importance. “They aren’t for anything less than masterful minds. Given what our tribe is like, that meant me, and no one else.”
Twins! I yelled through my mind, targeting Dean, hoping he’d hear me as he had before. Ask him about twins.
“The prophecy about twins devastating our people,” Dean said, and I tensed in anticipation. “Is that true?”
“Of course not.” Pumpoo laughed, the bastard actually laughed. I’d never wanted to kill anyone before in my entire life. I wanted to kill him right then.
“You ordered generations of Ooba people to kill twins.”
“And my father and grandfather before me understood the need to do the same.” Pumpoo spoke as if it was just business, nothing more. As if I hadn’t lived my entire life in fear of being discovered, of being hunted, because of one of his maniacal whims.
“Why? Why would you even do that? What could be more innocent than newborn infants?” Dean sounded as if he truly couldn’t grasp Pumpoo’s level of evil. I was glad for it. I couldn’t understand it either, and it was reassuring to see that Pumpoo was the exception, not the norm.
“It wasn’t a matter of their innocence,” he said, with the disinterest that usually accompanies a person cleaning the dirt from under their nails in boredom. “It was a matter of their power.”
Our power? My heart stuttered while I stretched my hearing to catch every despicable word.
“You see, early on, before the Ooba even left the Original city, one of the greatest seers ever forecasted that faithum would once more become our way of life, and that twins would be the greatest harnessers of faithum among our people.”
Deep shock swept across the forcers. I experienced the heavy silence like a wall surrounding me, mostly from those forcers who’d stood with Yoon, prepared to kill my twin and me.
“So... so why kill the twins?” Dean stuttered. I suspected the man hadn’t stuttered in centuries. “Why not let them return the way of faithum to our people?”
Pumpoo let out an exasperated sigh. “Do I have to spell out absolutely everything for you? Can you not think for yourself, man? The Andaron dynasty, as you should know, rules the Original city with a heavy fist. A people empowered with their own faithum is much more difficult to subdue. So the Andaron told them faithum wasn’t possible, the idiots believed it, and slowly the old ways began to fade from their consciousness. People lacking in faithum lack power. To that end, of course, twins couldn’t be allowed to live on.”
Of course, I thought murderously.
“The Ooba people left right before the Andaron ruler enacted a law that all twins were to be killed upon birt
h. We left because my great grandmother had just given birth to a set of twins. She wanted to protect them, and my great grandfather yielded to her weakness, and heeded her plea. It mattered little in the end, as the twins didn’t survive the trip to the other side of Planet Origins. They were weak and succumbed to disease. They were the reason my ancestors fled the power of the Original city, but once we left, they didn’t dare return, because they couldn’t break their agreement with the Andaron.”
“And that agreement was?”
“That our ethnic group would leave the Original city forever, never to return. We’d take our twins and live in secret. Our twins would never be allowed to believe in faithum or in their power so they wouldn’t pose a threat to the rule of the Andaron. After our departure, the Andaron would begin a cleansing of all twins and all faithum. My forefather and the Ooba were allowed to escape. Since our darker skin made us less attractive to the Andaron anyway, they didn’t mind losing us.”
“And the king allowed your great grandfather to leave like that? With a living threat?”
“Not exactly. The entirety of the deal was made with the seer, who had a daughter who’d given birth to her own set of twins. The deal with the Andarons was a bit... different.”
“So your great grandfather struck his own secret deal with the seer, and he fled.”
“He didn’t flee. My ancestors and I don’t flee. But aye, the Andaron didn’t know the full extent of what was going on. They didn’t need to, especially since the ruler at the time was a woman.”
“And women are less than men in your eyes?”
“Of course they are.”
Dean didn’t bother talking sense into the man. Sense had long been off the menu for our former chieftain.
“And the raiders from the Original city? Were they an invention to keep us in fear all along?”
“More or less. I also had to keep you trained and sharp. One never knows what might happen. I had to keep a ready force to defend me.”
“To protect you in case we ever remembered our faithum, despite your best efforts otherwise.”
“Something like that. Or in case anyone from the Original city ever realized what my forebears or I were up to.”
“There were never any raiders.”
“No. But the danger of twins was—is—real. And I fully intend to eliminate it. Immediately.”
“We won’t allow it.”
“I don’t need your permission to do a damn thing, haven’t you learned at least that with your simple mind? I do what I please. I always have, I always will. I’ve grown bored of this. I have plans to complete. It’s my time.”
And just like that, Pumpoo disappeared from view.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I had just enough time to process one panicked thought—Pumpoo is going to continue tormenting the Ooba people. There was no more opportunity for deliberation, just action.
So many things happened at once that I did nothing but watch them unfold for a few beats too many.
Pumpoo disappeared, but only for seconds. Dune yanked him back, turning his disappearance into little more than a flicker.
Dune pulled on invisible ropes, tugging hard. Dean ran to his side to help, though I didn’t know how he could contribute when what was taking place was entirely on the unseen plane.
Dune dug his feet in and leaned his weight backward. Despite the rippling movement of his shadows, I could make out muscles that bulged with effort.
Dean slid into place behind him, circling his arms around Dune’s waist, and adding his weight to Dune’s as they combined efforts to lean backward.
The shocked scowl on the small man’s face made it evident he’d never expected to fail in his disappearance. But his face was nowhere as concerned as it should be. I worried the mastermind of an entire tribe had a backup plan.
Pumpoo didn’t manage to free his arms from Dune’s invisible lasso, but he pulled on the rope with his hands, bound in front of his body. Still, it wasn’t his physical strength that would give him the edge in this fight. Dune and Dean were each twice his size.
But when Pumpoo pulled on the rope that bound him to Dune and the here-and-now, the two bigger men slid a foot.
They grunted, and with renewed vigor, yanked back, harder. They regained their ground, and Pumpoo slid a foot forward.
Pumpoo was fighting to break free. If we lost control of him now, our tribe would be in the greatest danger it had ever been.
Pumpoo had been the master puppeteer, concealed beneath a colorful shade. We’d been his puppets. With his true colors flying in an unsung breeze, he’d have no reason to hold back. He’d fully become the ruthless villain he’d been all along. He’d tear through us with the ferocity of the most violent she-dragon. If the Ooba managed to recover from his attempts, it would be at a great price. That much I was sure of.
Dune and Dean pulled, obviously trying to rope Pumpoo in. The villain resisted, though his strength in resistance came from his energetic body.
Boom and Scar hovered next to Pumpoo, their hands outstretched, searching for the right place to grab onto the man. When Shula lunged for Pumpoo, with every intention of holding onto him with enough strength that he couldn’t break free, Dean yelled, “Shula, no!”
She skidded to a stop and breathed angrily on Pumpoo.
“Don’t touch him,” Dean called. “None of you touch him.”
Why can’t they touch him? I desperately wanted to know. How are they supposed to contain him if they can’t touch him?
“Use your faithum, but don’t touch him with your body,” Dean said, and I couldn’t stand it anymore.
I brought a quick hand to Luma’s shoulder, and asked, Why can’t they touch him? What’s your father doing?
She responded without looking at me, as if she only could spare to give me half her attention. The man you called your chieftain is sucking in the energy around him, building his magic to greater levels so he can break the hold my father has on him. If anyone touches him, he’ll suck their energy into his and drain them of life.
By the oasis, Pumpoo wasn’t playing. He’ll kill anyone who touches him? Is that what you’re saying?
Yes.
And your father’s magic, will it hold him? Dune and Dean were struggling not to lose ground, and I watched Crush and Brute reach Dean and clamp onto his body, to add their resistance to the fight.
My father’s magic is strong. It will hold. But not long enough.
Luma stepped in front of me. She was finished informing me. She directed her attention above, and stretched her arms overhead, toward the now-swarming dragons.
Peachy moved to Shula’s side, and the two women, along with Boom and Scar, watched Pumpoo with piercing eyes, waiting for their opportunity to move in on him. I had no idea what had to change for them to be able to pin the man down, but I assumed they did.
I needed to do something to help. But what? We couldn’t touch Pumpoo with our physical bodies, but could we touch him with our faithum? Certainly we could, right? We had to be able to touch him in some way. We had to stop him. He couldn’t prove himself stronger than all of us. His darkness shouldn’t be allowed to win. It simply shouldn’t. But I’d lived in an unfair world long enough to know things didn’t always go the way I believed they should.
I had to contribute in some way. With a whole team of warriors surrounding him, surely we could stop him.
I didn’t dare use my faithum—whatever I could figure out to access, at least—without assurance that it was safe. Rane might not know, but he was the only one there to ask. Can we use our faithum without harm? Will he be able to pull in our faithum and use it against us?
Dammit, Nir, I don’t know. He didn’t say more, but I understood. The energy building within him was enough to emanate crackles I could feel. He was already prepared to launch his own faithum—which I’d never known him to access like this before. He was waiting for clearance too.
Pumpoo gained a foot, even with the four hardened
warriors struggling to resist him.
He’s stolen so much from all of us, from all of the Ooba. It was a thought meant just for me, but Rane heard it. He was alive in a way I’d never seen before; his reach was greater.
He’s been funneling our faithum for as long as he’s ruled. You saw him sucking our life force energy. This is why he was doing it. We stop him. Now.
I nodded, more determined than I’d ever been in my life. I yelled through my mind, Luma! I needed her answers. Can we use our magic on him without danger of him combining it with his own?
She didn’t answer for a while, and I wondered if I shouldn’t have interrupted her. She was directing several dragons downward, toward us. But then she did answer, Not yet.
It was all I got. Even through the waves of our silent communication, I could tell that what she was doing took as much effort as her father’s resistance to Pumpoo.
I wished I could spend all day watching the shadow girl, who reminded me so much of what I might be like if I owned all my strength and faithum, but I quickly whisked my eyes back to Pumpoo. To Rane I said, Luma says not to use our faithum yet. I’m going to build mine.
Rane would have to fill in the gaps. If Luma said not yet, I had to hope there was a chance that we could consolidate our magic and blast the man who’d done his best to harm everyone I cared about.
I didn’t close my eyes, but I let my focus go soft until I saw nothing more than shapes and colors. The location of our greatest adversary pulsed and vibrated. Like this, I could see what he was doing. He was drawing great amounts of energy from his surroundings, but the energy was also surging from within. He’d taken enough from the Ooba to fuel him so he could resist two tribes worth of warriors.
Pumpoo’s faithum was strong, but instead of feeling drawn to it, I was repulsed. He’d taken something amazing, pure and powerful, and tarnished it until it became something dark and revolting.
But just because I didn’t like the feel of the energy Pumpoo was amassing, didn’t mean it wouldn’t kill us. If Pumpoo, just one man, and a small, weak-looking one at that, could resist the direct efforts of men like Dune and Dean, Pumpoo’s faithum was something fearsome. It contained the energy of hundreds of people, something that was never meant to happen.