"Zon?"
The call for him was faint, but it held no sense of urgency. He remembered he had promised not to be long, and he still had to fetch her some new clothes before he returned to the cave.
Divoll noticed the interruption, waving a hand to dismiss him. Go. Go to her and see what she needs of you.
Is that all you needed to see me about? To warn me about my feelings for my Emmala?
The ancient geron took a deep breath. I have said what needed to be said. You may go.
It was then Zonaton realized Divoll had summoned him, not because he was an Elder, but because the old geron sincerely worried for Zonaton's emotional and mental health. Nodding slightly in deference, Zonaton took off from the rocky crest to return to the human awaiting his return.
Hours later, the call went out to all gerons that Divoll had passed from this life with dignity and honor.
Chapter Twenty
The Lies
The next morning, to Zonaton's shock, Akrim landed at the entrance to the cave. It was rare that an Elder ventured away from the mountain where they gathered and held audience with those gerons called in. For one of the oldest and most respected Elder to appear told Zonaton the matter was grave and urgent.
Akrim wasted no time delivering the news. You and the girl must go immediately to the village and try to pacify the humans.
"What? Why?" Emmala rose from the pallet and glanced from one to the other. She had heard the geron's order.
Akrim bowed his long neck in her direction. The villagers are arming themselves with weapons they have created from their old technology. They intend to attack us.
"Why?" she repeated with growing fear.
Because they no longer wish to be contained within the boundaries we have placed them in.
Because they still believe I am responsible for attacking your mother, Zonaton added.
"That's nonsense! I tell you, she's lying!"
And after yesterday, I am certain the young man who attacked you is adding his heated words to hers.
What happened yesterday? Akrim asked.
While I was meeting with the Elders, Emmala was forced into copulating with a young man she met from the village. She was injured. I knocked the man unconscious before returning her here to heal.
The Elder huffed. You may well be correct in your assumption. The young man is probably the catalyst which caused this uprising to gather momentum. You must hurry, Zonaton. You do not have many days left in this life, and the villagers could do a lot of damage to others, as well as to themselves, if they are not calmed soon.
Before Zonaton or Emmala could reply, the Elder turned and flew away.
Zonaton turned to see Emmala pulling on the new clothing he had brought to her last night. She tied her long hair back with a strip of cloth.
You are not coming with me, Emmala.
She halted to give him a questioning look. "Why not?" she demanded. "You heard the Elder. We've both been ordered to go."
Indeed, but it could be too dangerous for you to go.
Perching her hands on her hips, she hotly questioned, "And how do you expect to communicate with them?" Another thought came to her. "And what did he mean when he said you do not have many days left in this life? What was he talking about? Are the villagers also on some sort of time table?"
No. It is not they who are on a time table. It is me. He started to say more, then decided this was not the place or time. He had to resolve this issue with the villagers as soon as possible.
"What's that supposed to mean? Did the Elders give you a deadline to have this done?"
He waved for her to mount him. We will discuss this further later on. Right now, we are urgently needed in the village.
"All right, but this isn't over. I expect a full explanation from you when we get back home." She climbed onto his shoulders. Zonaton took off before she was able to clamp her legs around his neck. He felt her slight discomfort as she straddled him, but he couldn't do anything about it. In time, she would be healed to where it would no longer bother her.
Rather than circumvent the mountains, as he usually did, he chose to ride over the top of the ridge, to save time. The air here was thinner and much colder, but it would only last for a short time. As he knew she would, Emmala burrowed her face and arms beneath the soft rolls of skin where his neck met his shoulders to prevent from becoming chilled.
He banked slightly to avoid the high peaks and angled downward, toward the village. In the distance, sitting like a haze on the horizon, he could see the second village, one the villagers called Exodus. A tiny, narrow trail connected the two townships, the same way Exodus was connected to the third outlying village named Leviticus. The single roadway, wide enough for one cart, or for two people walking side by side, was the only means by which the villagers could send communications. With his acute eyesight, Zonaton could see the trail was packed with people, all of them heading for Genesis.
The center of the village was already filled. One person stood on a raised platform in the midst of the growing crowd. A man. As Zonaton drew nearer, he recognized the figure as the young man who had attacked Emmala. A heartbeat later, she echoed his thoughts.
"It's Hawse. What is he yelling about?"
It cannot be good.
Someone in the mob caught sight of the geron approaching, and a cry went up among the throng. There was a flash of light, and something zinged over Emmala's head.
"They're shooting at us!"
Hopefully, not for long.
He restrained from firing back, knowing that to do so would instigate an automatic, all-out rebellion. But it didn't stop him from opening his mouth to let them see the shimmering ball of fire readying in the back of his throat.The villagers were angry, and the young man named Hawse was only increasing their ire.
Call out to them, Emmala. Tell them to cease fire.
He felt her rise up in order to see and be seen above his head. "Stop firing! Stop firing this instant!"
Another discharge went off, but went wide. Zonaton landed near the podium where Hawse stood, watching. A large bandage was wrapped around his upper thigh, but he stood straight and didn't favor the leg. The dark look on the human's face confirmed what Zonaton was thinking. There may not be a happy ending to this confrontation.
Emmala slid off his neck and hurried over to the man. "What have you been telling them, Hawse? What lies are you spreading?" she heatedly asked.
"I'm not spreading any lies. I tell the truth, Emmala, unlike you." He pointed an accusing finger at the geron. "That creature struck me down!"
"You were violating me!" Emmala yelled back. "You were hurting me, and you wouldn't stop, even when I begged you to!"
An older man took the stone steps up to the platform. Under one arm he carried a long tube. "Is this true, Hawse? Were you violating the girl?"
"We were having sex," Hawse hotly defended, but Zonaton could already tell the young man's defense was weakening, once Emmala was there to present her side of the story.
"You were forcing me to have sex!" she exclaimed. "You were hurting me when Zonaton stopped you!"
"He almost killed the boy!" a voice from somewhere out in the crowd called out.
She faced the mob. "He only knocked him out. Zonaton didn't attack him, or in any other way cause him any harm. His sole focus was to save me. I attacked Hawse. I knifed him to get him to stop."
The older man held up a hand in a gesture for silence. Turning to Emmala, he addressed her directly. "Are you okay? My son didn't do any permanent damage, did he?"
"No." Emmala shook her head. "I'll be fine." She tilted her head at Hawse. "Will his leg be all right?"
"He will recover full use of it."
"I'm sorry, but I had no choice."
The older man nodded. "I understand."
"But it doesn't excuse what that monster did to her mother!" Someone else cried out from the masses.
"Yeah! How can she explain that one away?"
The older man, whom Zonaton now knew was Hawse's father, questioned her. "How do you explain the marks on your mother? How do you explain the evidence that shows what she was forced to endure when the geron attacked her?"
"Zonaton didn't attack her. My mother is lying."
A murmur of voices grew louder. There was movement amid the press of bodies gathered around the podium. People moved aside as a figure pushed her way forward. Presently, Zonaton identified the person as Emmala's mother.
The woman stomped up the short flight of steps, but made a show of putting plenty of room between herself and the geron. She stopped to face the audience.
"I am not lying! I have the bites and bruises to prove the attack happened!"
"There was no attack, Mommy," Emmala tensely objected.
"How would you know?" The woman refused to face her daughter. Instead, she pulled up her shirt sleeves to show off the healing cuts and scratches to the others. "See these? These are but a few of the scars I will bear for the rest of my life because of that monster!" She pointed a finger behind her to indicate Zonaton.
"You lie." Emmala's accusation was terse and low, but it carried.
Kell finally faced her oldest child. "No, I'm not. Why are you contradicting me, when I've taught you better manners? You listen to me, Emmala."
"No. You listen to me." Grabbing her mother's arm, she pointed to the obvious bite marks almost ringing the elbow. "Are you telling me Zonaton did this to you?"
"Yes! And more! Want me to show you the bruises that are still healing, too?"
Disgusted, Emmala shoved the arm away. "Explain to me, Mommy. Explain to all of us how you could have bite marks, when Zonaton has no teeth! He has no teeth, Mommy! He has a beak! A beak that shreds and tears, but doesn't leave teeth marks!"
The woman hesitated. In that moment, Emmala turned to the crowd. "She blames Zonaton for things he can't do! For things he didn't do! She's been lying to you all this time!"
"That monster stole you from me!" Kell quickly went on the defensive. "He stole you and killed others, and that is no lie! Everyone knows that's the truth because they were there! Those things murder our people with no moral thought or regret!"
Zonaton screeched, making the villagers go silent in surprise. Opening his thoughts, he projected to them all.
We do not kill indiscriminately. We kill to protect you.
"Lies and words! Nothing but lies and words!" Kell yelled back at the geron. "You kill children!"
We remove those children who bear the genes of evilness. Who would grow up to become killers, and who would bring great harm to others.
"You steal children! Innocent children, who belong with their rightful families!"
We only take those children who have been wronged. Who have been abused, neglected, or harmed, or treated with such indecency that their lives are at risk if they remain.
Zonaton looked directly at Kell, challenging her to contradict him. The woman puffed up as if she had been directly insulted.
"Excuses! Everything you say is nothing but lies and meaningless words! You make up stories to save your hides."
"He speaks the truth, Mommy, and you know it!" Emmala stepped toward her mother. "You hurt me in more ways than I can count or remember. Zonaton saved me. He probably saved my life. You have been nothing more than a hateful, evil woman. And what's worse, you go about the community acting like such a good and loving wife and mother, when you are the exact opposite." Emmala paused, her chest heaving as her breathing increased with her anger. "I bet if you took The Walk, the gerons would eat you!"
The slap to her face was hard and stunning. Taken by surprise, Emmala reeled from the hot pain, when she saw her mother's other hand coming down to beat her about the head, as she had experienced in the past.
Zonaton shrieked and swung his massive head. His beak connected with the woman, and Kell was struck sideways, knocking her off her feet, but not so hard as to knock her off the podium.
Something exploded. It was followed by two more high-pitched whines. Another unfamiliar sound came from a distance, from the direction of the crowd. Zonaton felt several bites puncture his chest. He looked down in astonishment at the three small holes their weapons had drilled into his body. Holes that began to gush with bright pink blood.
He tried to reach for Emmala, to protect her from the villagers' wrath, but his arms refused to obey. The world tilted as his body slumped sideways. He heard Emmala's scream, but he couldn't respond. Agony was a million sharp rock fragments slicing through his internal organs, piercing his muscles, his lungs, and his heart. Breathing was like trying to inhale under water.
The podium slammed against his right cheek. His right eye struck someone's booted foot. A sharp, hard kick to his face removed his sight on that side.
All feeling in his arms and legs was gone. He couldn't move, couldn't defend himself. Worse, he couldn't help Emmala. He knew he had wings, but they had become weighty, unresponsive objects pulling down on his back.
Somewhere in the far distance he heard Emmala calling to him. He could feel her trying to communicate with him with her mind, but his thoughts were dull gray shadows, which quickly grew darker and cloudier, like a gathering storm.
He was vaguely aware of her pulling her knife and placing herself in front of him in a vain attempt to protect him. When no one dared to approach, she whirled around and fell to her knees. Emmala peered into his face, into his one remaining eye. Tears coursed down her cheeks. Her voice was muffled, even though she was shouting into his ear.
"Fight them, Zonaton! Don't die! Please, stay with me! You have to fight back!"
She grabbed a handful of scales ringing his neck and jerked on them. Strangely, he felt no pain. He could feel nothing except for an overwhelming sadness. A sadness that was mirrored in Emmala's eyes.
Do not forget me, Emmala. My Emmala. My human love. Do not forge—
He tried to tell her he would all right. This life was over, but he would continue to live elsewhere. That he wouldn't be gone forever.
He tried to say good-bye.
The world went away before he had the chance.
Chapter Twenty-One
The Resolution
A hand touched her shoulder, but Emmala slapped it away. Her heart was breaking. Her Zonaton was dead. She jerked on his neck scales as the tears rolled down her face to drip upon his beak.
"Zon! Zon! Wake up! You're not dead! Please! You're not dead!"
"Good riddance is what I say," her mother commented behind her. "Now you can come home, and we can be a family again. The way it was meant to be."
Emmala screamed as she rose and turned to the woman. Pure hate fueled her actions, and she dropped her knife, preferring to beat her mother about head and chest with her bare fists. Hitting her anywhere she could strike the surprised and cowering woman, who threw her arms up to protect her head and face.
Several pairs of hands managed to pull her away. Two more men went to help Kell to her feet.
Jerking away from those holding her, Emmala dropped to her knees beside the carcass covering most of the platform. The geron's eyes were colorless and beginning to glaze over in death. Laying her cheek next to the huge beak, she wrapped her arms around the creature's head and neck. Behind her, her mother drew near.
"I'll forgive you this time, Emmala, but don't let it happen again."
"Go away! Leave me alone!"
"I know you're upset because you don't see the good in all this. But you will, in time. That's one less monster telling us what we can and can't do."
Emmala started to retort that the villagers needed someone to babysit them, but chose to remain silent. All she could think about was the sudden empty void looming in her future. A future without safety, or warmth, or happiness. A future without Zonaton.
A swell of noise went up in the crowd. Several people cried out, and many more pointed toward the sky. There was the sound of weapons firing, until a huge burst of fire spread like a massive sheet of flame
s above their heads. The villagers ducked, but remained where they stood.
Three gerons descended, landing around the body of the dead one. Emmala wiped her eyes and recognized one of the creatures as the one who had visited her and Zonaton that morning. The giant, dark orange geron nuzzled Zonaton's body, then reared up his head to stare at the crowd.
Who is the one responsible?
No one spoke, but many pairs of eyes sought out the men bearing the weapons that had been fired.
Why was he killed?
Again, there was no response. Unable to stand the silence, Emmala wiped her eyes and nose with the hem of her tunic and stood. "He was killed defending me."
The geron swung his massive head in her direction.
Explain.
"My mother tried to tell everyone that Zonaton attacked her. I had proof he didn't. She didn't like me talking back. She never did. So she slapped me. Zonaton knocked her away from me to keep her from hitting me again. That's when someone fired their weapons at Zon. They killed him. They ki—" She pressed her knuckles against her mouth, unable to continue. Her body convulsed. More hot tears poured down her face. The orange geron's eyes reflected his sorrow as he stared at Emmala.
We feel your loss. We felt his passing. That is why we are here. To take Zonaton's body where he can leave this life and enter into his new existence.
"Take me with you. I want to say good-bye."
You cannot come with us. You must say your good-byes here.
Emmala embraced Zonaton's neck and pressed her face into his skin. Overhead, the orange geron addressed the crowd.
By your actions, you have proven you cannot be trusted to be on your own. Therefore, all discourse between us is disallowed, and all treaties will be strictly enforced. Furthermore, know this. If another geron is killed, the ones responsible will be held accountable. If the ones responsible for this death are not brought to us for justice, then all of you will be held accountable. You are ordered to destroy your weapons, or face immediate retaliation. You have until the end of day to comply to this command.
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