by Jeff Gunzel
Horror swelled up inside Athel. She had no particular love for these humans, but she didn’t want to kill them! Why? Why me? You’re the one who seems to be afraid of them.
He turned towards her and roared a mighty boom that seemed to shake the ground. The others turned away from the fiery circle and looked to their leader. Whatever argument was going on over here had just gained their interest. “Who are you to defy me?!” The vicious howl was spoken out loud for all to hear. “They’ve come here for you! To take you back to their civilization. To a world that no longer accepts you. You will be branded a freak, tormented the rest of your days.” He lowered his tone. “This is your home now. And you will prove it by eliminating these pests. Kill them, and earn the trust of your brothers. Then you will truly be one of us.”
Recognizing her combination of horror and confusion, the massive mountain of a creature pressed the point. I see now. You weren’t aware that they’ve come here for you, he said, returning back to their soundless mind link. I know some primitive part of you still remembers them. Still considers them...friends. Why do you suppose that is?
I— But... A swirl of emotion assaulted Athel as she tried to sort it all out. Although none of it made any sense, there seemed to be specks of truth scattered throughout his accusations. She really did feel as if she knew them, even though she had no direct memory of it. How could that be? And why would they come all this way here just for her?
They are but shadows of a life that no longer belongs to you, he continued. Ghosts of the past that must be purged if you are to fulfill your destiny. Step into the ring of fire and prove yourself to me...
Her insides twisted and churned. Emotion washed over her like a tidal wave, threatening to crush her into the ground. Shadows from her past? What past? Who was she before? She gazed into the ring of fire, watching the two men sentenced to death—to die by her hand. She stared hard at the blond-haired boy. He had tried to speak to her in some strange, foreign tongue. She hadn’t understood a word, but he seemed so desperate to communicate. Wanted—no, needed her—to understand him. Understand what? What was he trying to say?
A surge of images flooded through her head, memories that had been trapped, tucked away deep into the farthest corners of her mind. They released in a gush like a shaken beer foaming everywhere. She could remember Jacob handing her flowers for the first time. At that moment, she hid behind the blossoms so he wouldn’t see her smile. She remembered the first time he held a door open for her. A small thing, but no one had ever done that before. For once she felt like a woman. Athel even remembered their first kiss. They’d sat in the back of a wagon, watching the sun set. She hardly said a word to Jacob that evening because she had been so nervous around him. When he finally pressed his lips to hers, the mighty warrior melted into his arms, helpless against his charm.
These memories, plus a hundred others, flashed through her at once. Her eyes began to tear. Her knees turned to jelly. It was all she could do to stay on her feet and not crumble to the ground. “Jacob,” she whispered out loud in common tongue.
“You will do as I say!” Otory bellowed in a hastened blast of growls. The last few beasts still watching the humans had turned around now. Low snarls swept through the camp. They were ready for blood, and growing irritated by the ongoing delay. “You will bury your past once and for all. As your Chieftain, I order you!”
She was in complete control now. Athel knew who she was and what she stood for. How long that would last was anyone’s guess. In her calm clarity, she knew exactly what needed to be done. Even if it meant her death. “In that case, I think you’ve been Chieftain long enough,” she hissed in common tongue.
Otory looked at her strangely, not understanding the odd language she spoke. But when she grabbed the hooked tooth strung around his neck and ripped it away, words no longer mattered. The challenge had been made clear.
Jacob kept eyeing the edge of the fiery circle, certain one of the creatures would leap through at any moment. He was ready. To fight back would only prolong the inevitable, but he would do it anyway. You want to take our lives? I promise the price will be steep. At least some of you will accompany us to the afterlife. He wasn’t sure if he believed that or not. But it remained his intention nonetheless. Amoshi jabbed him in the back with a sharp elbow. “What is it?” said Jacob, glancing over his shoulder.
“Whatever is coming for us, it’s starting from this side. Your need to get ready,” he growled, fists clenched and raised near his chin. “Just keep watching your side. We need to be sure this is not a trick or misdirection. I’ll tell you when to turn.”
“What’s coming from your side? What do you see?”
“Just watch your side and hold your ground!” Amoshi bellowed. “I’m not taking a set of claws to the back because of your impatience.” Amoshi glared through the fire. There was clearly a lot of commotion going on from his side. Snarls, growling and the occasional howl let loose while the giant creatures pushed and shoved at one other. They began to separate, allowing a path for something to get through. In a blink, Athel leapt through the wall of fire, landing in a low crouch. She was holding no weapons. “So it’s going be you,” grunted Amoshi. “Very well, then. Perhaps one of the dogs will give you a bone for being so obedient.”
“Get back. Both of you!” she said, holding a fist high in the air. “This is business of the clan. Do not interfere.” Despite Amoshi’s instruction, Jacob turned when he heard the all-too-familiar voice. Hearing her speak again was like music to his ears. She held the necklace high in the air and spoke in the creatures’ native tongue. All Amoshi and Jacob heard were the livid snarls of an angry dog.
I know I have not yet earned the right to speak, nor have I gained your trust. An angry rumble filled the air as the growling cats moved in closer. Nor do I have any right to try and stop you from killing these prisoners. In your hearts, you have already determined that they are enemies. Not because of their actions or intentions, but because you were raised from birth to believe it so. From your first breath you were told humans were never to be trusted. I am an outsider as well. Does that mean I am your enemy? Does that not mean I am a weakling in your eyes?
The low, rumbling growls began to quiet down while the beasts looked at one another. I am not foolish enough to believe I can abolish all your prejudices of the outside world in a single day. Nor do I believe any of you are foolish enough to trust my word without proof of what I speak. So I am left with only one option. I will operate within the laws of your culture. None but the clan Chieftain himself can demand a halt to this senseless execution. She threw the feathered tooth necklace down into the sand. By the laws of your people, with the gods as my witness, I challenge the rule of Otory!
Amoshi and Jacob stared at her, dumfounded. Of course, neither of them understood a single word, but knew something big was about to happen. Jacob stepped closer to her. “Athel! Please tell me what’s goi—”
The roar from the back row of cats shook the ground. Long and loud, it soon became a shrill, piercing howl, a shriek that could shatter crystal. One by one, any beasts foolish enough to stand in his way soon went airborne as the enraged Chieftain charged through the group, knocking over any in his path. Seeing the monster leap through the wall of fire was a vision of hell itself. “You will never be one of us,” he roared, landing before Athel. “You’re too weak to rule MY people.”
Jacob and Amoshi backed away, understanding there was nothing they could do to help Athel. Weaponless, and powerless against such a force, all they could do was bear witness. Win or lose, this was Athel’s fight.
Otory had not gained leadership over the pack by gaining their trust, leading by example, or making true and righteous decisions. He wasn’t wise or even particularly smart. But he was brutal, violent and ferocious. An unstoppable force in combat. Decades ago, he had challenged their former Chieftain in a similar fashion as this, killing him and gaining sole possession of the “Saber’s Tooth” amulet. The one who wore
this necklace ruled; such was the way of the clan.
Their laws were simple and few. And Athel had just exploited one of their oldest. Anyone may issue a formal challenge to the current Chieftain. The winner gains full leadership over the clan. The loser dies. Although not all believed in Otory or his leadership skills, none questioned his fierce brutality. There was a reason he had gone unchallenged for decades. In all his centuries of life he had never once tasted defeat, and there was no reason to believe this day would be different.
The beast lunged at Athel, his massive body taking flight. Otory expected to drive her right to the ground, then end it quickly with his superior strength. But the nimble warrior smoothly sidestepped the obvious tactic, allowing him to harmlessly sail by. The surprisingly agile savage flipped in mid-air before landing back on his feet a few yards away.
The brute wasn’t particularly smart, but had superior warrior instincts. That aggressive maneuver would have caught many off guard, yet she evaded it with ease. Simply overwhelming her with brute force wasn’t going to work. He could already tell she was too skilled to be tricked by such blunt tactics.
Athel dug her heels into the sand, trying to maintain a strong base and balance. Her strength was far beyond any human’s, but it wasn’t going to win her this fight. Not against this brute. She would have to use her speed and agility. He charged at her again. She braced, readying herself to jump to either side. But instead of charging through her as he did before, he pulled up to a dead stop. She ducked as a balled fist soared over her head. Already low to the ground and no way to go any lower, the warrior then rolled backward across the sand. A large paw stomped the ground, missing her by inches. Dust rose up into the air from the hard impact.
In mid-roll she reversed her direction, rolling forward and driving her shoulder into the beast’s planted leg. He howled in pain when his knee made a cracking sound. All the warrior’s former instincts were returning. A lifetime’s worth of training flooded back to her at once. Although she had made a living tearing foes to pieces with her famous half-moon blades, her hand-to-hand was as sharp as any combatant. Kneeling, the warrior drove her elbow down into the injured knee in two lightning-fast blows, then stood quickly, burying her knee into his gut.
Seeing her opponent doubled over, the warrior’s confidence grew in leaps and bounds. Throwing caution to the wind, she moved in for the kill. Athel struck the dazed savage once across the jaw, twice, then sent her strong fingers zipping towards the stunned beast’s throat, attempting to crush his windpipe. The killing blow never landed. Catching the warrior’s wrist, her fingers still extended, Otory used it to pull her in close. Caught in his iron grip, this was the last thing she wanted.
The much stronger Chieftain gripped her in a crushing bear hug, then drove her back into the sandy soil, falling on top. Using his substantial weight and strength advantage, he kept her pinned underneath him. Athel knew she was in trouble. She thrashed about, trying to get free. It was like trying to move a mountain. Wrapping his legs behind her knees while keeping his groin pressed heavily against her stomach, the savage sat up. Her eyes went wide, knowing this was probably the beginning of the end.
He brought his massive fist down in a crushing blow. An explosion of pain erupted through her head. Her mouth quickly filled with the metallic taste of blood. A second explosion forced her fading body to go limp. Athel still clung to consciousness, but only by a hair. Her head rolled to the side lifelessly.
With half her face caved in, leaving one of her eyes decimated, she looked out across the sand with her remaining eye. Her hazy vision was reminiscent of a dream. Everything seemed to be outlined in gray fog. Athel watched through the wall of fire; could see the mixed emotions on the creatures’ faces. Some were horrified; others appeared quite content with any outcome. And then she saw Jacob...
To her vision, he seemed to be running in slow motion. Everything seemed to moving in slow motion. His face was contorted with rage as he rushed at Otory’s back. Of course, his life would be forfeit once he got there. The beast would tear him apart without breaking a sweat. Athel had to do something. She had to stop Jacob.
Another blinding explosion of pain radiated through her body when Otory struck her again. The blinding pain rattled down to her toes. But she couldn’t afford to think about that now. If anything, it roused her from her dreamlike state.
The seed within her began to stir. It turned in her gut, within her soul. It was part of her, whether she accepted that fact or not. For as long as she had been aware of its presence, she had fought back against it. Resisted it. Willed it to be gone. But for the first time ever, she reached out to it, needed it—embraced it.
Jacob planted his foot, then turned a spinning heel kick, trying to knock the beast off her. All his aggression, all his hate for this creature who was trying to hurt the one he loved, was behind that kick. His foot thundered off the side of Otory’s head with a heavy, dry thud. It landed flush, with enough force to incapacitate any mortal. The beast just looked at him and smiled. Yellowed teeth glistened while catching the flickering light. At that moment, Jacob knew he was dead.
But the beast’s smile vanished instantly when a hand fired upward. A hand covered with wiry black hair gripped his throat like an iron vise. Athel roared, a savage wail that echoed through the dark forest. It sent frightened birds to flight and small creatures deeper into their holes. The warrior’s blind rage had been made known for miles around.
With a titanic shove, the savage flew off her, then skidded across the ground on his back. He started to sit up when the incensed warrior landed on his chest. Years of training to be the best, endless hours spent learning weaponry and hand-to-hand battle tactics, meant nothing now; all was forgotten. She was more animal than woman. The warrior glared down at Otory the way a hawk eyes a mouse. Her good eye was glowing a bright red. Pointed ears stood up like a wolf’s. Black, wiry hair covered her face and neck. Her warped, broken face made her lopsided smile appear all the more demonic.
She was much smaller in comparison to him, yet he couldn’t move. Her newfound strength was off the chart, along with her aggressiveness. Athel’s known array of skilled attacks from this position was endless, but the animal used none of them. In a most primal, brutal assault, she plunged her thumbs deep into his eye sockets. His bloodcurdling scream went from deep and angry to shrill and piercing. Blood ran freely from his caved-in eye sockets and down the side of his head. The running liquid quickly darkened the sand.
Unrelenting, she pushed deeper, rotating her thumbs back and forth. Otory’s body trembled and convulsed. There came a crackling, fizzing sound when she pushed as deep as her hands would allow, then ripped her thumbs free in a fountain of gore. His enormous, muscle-bound body lay motionless in the sand. Dark, empty sockets stared lifelessly up towards the sky.
Athel stood, her breathing heavy. Thick drool flowing down from her open mouth, she gazed out at the creatures watching the gory spectacle. Some appeared shocked, staring in disbelief. Others tightened their faces, trying to suppress a rising grin. No one seemed mad or disappointed.
Athel turned back to Jacob, her good eye still holding a reddish glow. The skin around the crushed portion of her face began to bubble and swell, the severe wound already beginning to regenerate. Even though she could feel her own deformity, lumps of skin rising and falling, she refused to look away. Nor did he, keeping his eyes fixed on her. “So this is what I am,” she said, a deep sadness in her voice. “I’m a monster, and I always will be.”
“You are no such thing,” he said softly, reaching out to place his hand on her cheek. She flinched at first, but then allowed it. So long had she longed for his touch.
“You know that the seed is a permanent affliction. I will soon forget you, Eric, Jade, even myself.” A long moment of silence passed. “I cannot go with you. My place is here now.”
“I know,” he whispered, moving his hand down to her shoulder. “As much as it pains me, I’ve already made peace with
that.”
“I believe this belongs to you.” They turned to look at Amoshi. He held out a fist, sand sifting between his fingers. Turning over his hand, he presented the hooked tooth with red feathers. He moved to her back and gently tied it around her neck. She pressed the trinket tightly to her chest. “We will never forget what you’ve done here today.”
Still clutching the trinket, she pointed beyond the fire ring. “Your weapons are in those sacks,” she said, voice cracking with emotion. “You two must go now. I don’t know how long I have. I need you two to remember me as I am right now.”
Jacob leaned in and gave her a light kiss on the cheek. “No matter what, you will always remain in my heart.” Without another word, he walked away. Amoshi embraced Athel, then followed behind him. They hopped through the flames and marched up through the crowd. The creatures hissed and growled, but ultimately let them pass. After all, their new leader had let the humans go. Who were they to disobey her wishes?
Amoshi threw an arm over Jacob’s shoulder. “Your questions have been answered, my friend. Athel is alive, and safer than we are, I’m afraid. We’ve done all we can here. Let’s go home.”
Chapter 13
Ilirra sat in the corner of the hexagon-shaped room, leaning forward in her dark, lacquered wooden chair, with a thick, open book spread across her lap. “The People’s Voice” was a tome of a book indeed. Over a thousand yellowed pages extended between its thick, black, leather binding. On its front was an embroidered golden scepter that could be felt by touching it. The book was not hers per se, but was property of the city of Taron. Although not required by law, all kings and queens were strongly advised to read it at least once. Ilirra had read it multiple times, and now found herself thumbing through it once again.