They set me up, he thought. At least it felt that way. But why? What was the point? He stared into Raw’wna’s eyes, searching for an answer he knew would never come. He let out a long breath, trying to push out the betrayal that hounded his thoughts, and then he clenched his jaw, suppressing the growl that desperately wanted to erupt from him. The beast inside clutched and clawed, fighting to be set free, but he pressed it down.
“You know,” Hr’ent said slowly, locking eyes with Tyl’sharn, “part of the reason I came back here was that I needed to sort out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I thought—” he let a single bark of a laugh escape his lips. “I thought there might be a chance of rekindling what we had.”
“Ha!” Tyl’sharn blurted, and then she erupted into a long fit of laughter that trailed off. The sound of it pierced Hr’ent’s heart, and he caught Kor’shi and his buddies laughing right along with her. Raw’wna, on the other hand, still had a flat expression on his face, as if nothing had happened.
“What, in the name of all Five Elementals, would make me ever get back with the likes of you?” She glared at him. “Look around you,” she said, pulling away from Raw’wna and gesturing at the room. “This is what I expect, you pathetic, little cub. This is the bar to which you needed to aspire. Kor’shi earned enough credits in a year to buy this. Raw’wna’s is just as nice.” She cocked her head to the side. “But you…you decided to join those ridiculous Peacemakers.” She eyed him. “The way I see it, you have one of two futures ahead of you. Poverty with the Peacemakers because you don’t take your mamma’s money, or the lap of luxury because you do. One is the choice of a fool, and the other the choice of a cub.”
“She’s got you there,” Kor’shi said affably, slapping Hr’ent on the back.
Hr’ent jerked his shoulder away as he snapped his head around to glare at Kor’shi. He didn’t even try to keep the growl from crescendoing inside his chest.
“Don’t touch me,” he warned, and he let the growl carry his words on a low rumble.
“Or what?” Tyl’sharn jeered. “You gonna arrest him, Peacemaker?” She stepped forward and stared up into Hr’ent’s glaring eyes. Her face was full of contempt, even loathing, and for the life of him, Hr’ent couldn’t fathom how she could have come to hate him like this. “You’re worthless to me. The best thing I ever did was upgrade from a worthless Peacemaker to an Oogar with ambition.”
Hr’ent stared at her for a few heartbeats, blinking. He wanted to argue with her, but the question hung over his head. Was she right? Did he truly have no ambition? The truth was, becoming a Peacemaker would make him a lackey—enforcing someone else’s laws, going whenever and wherever someone else told him to, and probably ending up dead in an alley for his trouble. And for what? A pittance of a salary. It always came down to that. What was this sense of justice that had driven him all these years?
Nobody cares, Hr’ent thought.
He thought back to the party at his mother’s mansion. Those people had probably already forgotten about him; they were getting on with their lives and their jobs and their money. Sure, they said they were proud of him, but they only needed him when criminals upset their delicate little lives with something inconvenient. His thoughts carried him back to what he’d done for the Pushtal. Was that it? Had his life been spent already? There wasn’t even a way for him to get back there, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to anymore.
Hr’ent’s paw slid up, and he felt the lump of the Silver Claw tucked away in his jacket pocket. Nobody really cares, he thought. Not even me. He’d become a showpiece…a photo op for legislators. He slid his paw into his jacket and pulled out the medal, closing his fist around it.
“What’s that you have there?” she asked, acid in her voice.
“Nothing,” Hr’ent said. “Nothing at all.” He stared at her and shook his head. “I can’t believe I once considered making you my mate.”
“Your mate?” she shouted, her voice full of disgust. The rest of the party went silent. “I’d kill myself before I let a filthy Feral plant his seed in me.” Hr’ent’s eyes went wide with shock, and his rage ignited. She raised a paw. “You’re a filthy, primitive Feral,” she barked, punctuating each word with a harsh poke at his chest with her claw, which was taboo among civilized Oogar. The use of claws was reserved for Ferals and criminals.
As a trickle of blood flowed down his chest, Hr’ent’s rage and reflexes exploded. Drawing blood with claws was considered a mortal challenge for the Oogar, even the civilized ones, although civilized Oogar kept their claws retracted when they fought. Before he knew what he was doing, he’d grabbed her hand, twisted her wrist backward, and bent her paw up toward the ceiling. It was a simple joint lock that jammed the wrist and locked the elbow, forcing an opponent to his—or her—knees.
Tyl’sharn dropped down to one knee and yelped in pain.
Kor’shi surged forward, raising a paw, but Raw’wna beat him to the punch.
Hr’ent felt Raw’wna’s claws at his throat. He didn’t draw blood, but it bordered on the very brink of a mortal challenge.
“Let her go, Hr’ent,” Raw’wna growled, and then he glanced at Kor’shi. “This has gone too far,” he added, and there was a strange sort of warning in his words. He turned back to Hr’ent. “I said, let her go, or I’ll kill you, old friend.”
“You don’t know what that word means,” Hr’ent said, and it was practically a whisper. Rage and despair tore at him. He knew he’d just lost the best friend he’d ever had, although maybe he’d lost Raw’wna years before, when the bastard had decided to take up with Tyl’sharn. He slowly released Tyl’sharn’s arm and raised his hands, palms outward, but his eyes never left Raw’wna’s, who slowly pulled his claws away.
Tyl’sharn rose to her feet and slapped him once across the face. The sharp sound filled the room, but Hr’ent’s head didn’t move with the impact. He let his eyes slowly turn to her. His anger surged, and his muzzle pulled up in a snarl. In that moment, Tyl’sharn saw the Feral. Her eyes widened in sudden fear. Her haughty posture deflated, and she stepped back. Perhaps she realized she’d gone too far. Maybe she knew she’d been baiting and taunting him, and that there was always the possibility of consequences.
It didn’t matter.
“I think you’d better leave,” Raw’wna growled. His deadpan face had instantly shifted to a snarl. “You just crossed a line. Now get out of here, before something bad happens to you.”
Hr’ent looked around. Several of the other Oogar had stepped forward, their hackles up, and they stood there glaring at him. He might be able to take on Raw’wna and Kor’shi, but there were four Shadowclaw mercenaries surrounding him, and there were probably others from the mercenary company there as well. He wasn’t prepared to take them all on, although part of him wanted to, wanted to kill as many as he could before one of them managed to tear out his throat.
“You’re right,” Hr’ent finally said, exhaling slowly. “I have an appointment with the Peacemakers. I’m as done with them as I am with you, old friend.” Without another word, he dropped the Silver Claw at Raw’wna’s feet, turned, and started walking toward the door.
“We’ll see you again soon, Hr’ent,” Kor’shi called out, and there was no missing the threat.
Hr’ent paused, tempted to say something, but anything he said in the state he was in would surely ignite a bloody brawl that would get someone killed. I’m still a Peacemaker, he reminded himself. But not for long. He started forward again, and those who had gathered near the front door parted before him. There were glares on every face, but he ignored them all.
He walked out the door, strode across the lawn, and opened the boot of his flightcycle. Yanking his rucksack, helmet, and goggles out, he hopped onto the saddle and fired up the turbines. He slipped on the pack and jammed the helmet down on his head, securing the strap with an angry tug. He turned to see Raw’wna, Kor’shi, and the other two Shadowclaw mercs standing just outside the door.
Kor’shi leaned over and said something to Raw’wna.
Hr’ent ripped his eyes away and looked up at the sky.
“I should never have come home,” he growled.
Dropping his goggles in place, he gunned the throttle and shot into the sky, deliberately boring great gouges in the manicured lawn with the turbines. A jerk on the controls sent him hurtling for the Peacemaker station, dead set on demanding to see the lieutenant in charge and filing an immediate resignation of his appointment.
He didn’t know what he’d do after that. He didn’t care. He let the city flow beneath him, angling for the bright lights of the Peacemaker station that squatted at the edge of Saasarra. Beyond the glowing line of the city lay the dark shadows of a thick forest, running from east to west in an undulating line.
* * * * *
Chapter Fifteen
Uuwato
Capital City-State of Saasarra
A warning light in his HUD signaled that he was approaching the restricted airspace of the Peacemaker station. He eased back on the throttle, letting air drag bleed off speed as he dropped in elevation. A flight pattern popped up in his HUD, indicating where the auto-flight control system wanted him to make his approach to the station’s wide and mostly empty parking lot.
The forest, its darkness filling his view 1,000 yards past the station, called to him. It was a strange sensation he’d never felt before. Maybe it was his imagination. Maybe learning that he was half-Feral had put foolish ideas in his head. Then again, maybe the discovery had awakened something he’d never really known before.
He came down low and slow over the lot, angling for a swath of parking spots reserved for air-capable vehicles. He landed gently and cut the engines. Across the parking lot was the Peacemaker admin building with a wide campus stretching out behind it. To the right of the admin building was the station’s medical facility that doubled as an emergency clinic for the metropolitan ambulances that serviced the area.
Hr’ent pulled his helmet and goggles off, hanging them on the control bars as he blew out an angry breath.
Tyl’sharn’s words echoed in his mind. I’d kill myself before I let a filthy Feral plant his seed in me.
Maybe that was his fate. He was half Feral. If he ran out into the forest, maybe he could get lost, find a place to call his own, and survive.
He swung a leg over his bike, preparing to walk into the Peacemaker admin building and resign. He laughed. He’d planned on spending the whole week trying to figure out what he was going to do. And here he was, ready to chuck it all in and go Feral…like my father before me.
Hr’ent found himself standing at the edge of a precipice, with a vast abyss opening before him. Once he turned in his resignation, there would be no going back. Did he really want to quit?
Hak-Chet’s voice echoed in his mind.
I believe you have everything you need to become, perhaps, the greatest Enforcer the Peacemakers have ever seen.
To Hr’ent, the word Enforcer translated into thug. Were those his choices in the Peacemakers? Lackey or assassin? He shook his head, trying to shake loose all of the shit he’d endured for the past few months. He took stock and realized the Izlian shit had stacked up over his head, and he was drowning in it.
He sat there, contemplating his past and the empty expanse that was his future. He lost track of time, unable to take those last few steps toward the admin building, but unwilling to lift off on his flightcycle and go home. He found himself kicking around memories of the Academy and the Pushtal and the crash that had kept him from becoming valedictorian. He reached up and felt for the Silver Claw.
Why did I drop it? he wondered.
The answer came almost immediately.
Because I don’t deserve it.
The sound of car doors slamming not far behind him broke Hr’ent out of his thoughts.
He turned his head slowly, wondering who it might be, and then he raised an eyebrow.
“We came to teach you some manners, half-breed,” Kor’shi called out, and he wasn’t alone.
Kor’shi drove an expensive-looking sedan. He moved around the hood of the vehicle with Su’mar behind him. Raw’wna exited from the front passenger seat, and Fen’wyn was behind him. All four of them approached steadily, their hackles up and their teeth barred.
“You shouldn’t have hurt her,” Raw’wna said. “You almost broke her arm.”
Hr’ent stood slowly and walked around the front of his flightcycle. He felt his hackles rising.
“I guess she shouldn’t have poked a half-breed animal, should she?” he said. “If I’d wanted to break her arm, it would be broken.” Hr’ent gave Raw’wna an almost accusatory look. “She used her claws, Raw’wna,” he added. He reached up and pulled his shirt open, sending buttons skittering to the pavement. There, in the lamplight, Raw’wna saw the dark stain of blood on Hr’ent’s chest. “I would have been within my rights to do more than break her arm, and you know it.” Hr’ent raised his paws and closed them slowly, the tendons making sharp popping sounds that echoed across the parking lot. “She’s lucky I still have a chain on the Feral inside me…” He lowered his head as they came forward, snarling long and low.
He knew where this was going. They intended to beat him to a pulp and leave him for the Peacemakers to clean up. The four of them could say he’d injured a female, and they’d claimed the Right of Retribution. Four vows against his one would see him stripped of his badge, incarcerated, and sent to a labor facility in one of the polar regions.
For a moment, Raw’wna paused, his eyes fixed on the dark spot on Hr’ent’s chest.
“You know we have to do this,” Kor’shi called out, but Raw’wna just looked at Hr’ent.
“Don’t stop now,” Hr’ent taunted, his eyes boring into Raw’wna. He had had enough. Enough of Rsach, enough of Hak-Chet, enough of Tyl’sharn, enough of them all. “You followed me. I’ve restrained myself up until now, but you don’t really think I’m going to let you get back into that car without a beating, do you?”
“That’s the spirit, Peacemaker,” Kor’shi said, drawing nearer.
Raw’wna got a strange look on his face—disbelief followed by a sudden surge of anger.
“All right, old friend,” he said slowly, “you asked for it.”
Hr’ent rolled his shoulders several times, then rotated his neck to loosen up the muscles, as the four of them surrounded him. He wondered if they’d fight with their paws and feet, or if they’d end up using claws. If even one of them drew blood with claws, the fight would instantly become a death match. He wouldn’t draw blood first, but he would certainly do his best to draw it last, if it came to that.
“You all say I’m a half-breed?” he growled, his eyes flicking from one opponent to the next. “So be it.” Raw’wna was in front on him, with Kor’shi on his right and Su’mar on his left. Hr’ent swiveled his ears backward to keep track of Fen’wyn. “If I have to pay for it, you’re all gonna eat it. Now you’ll see what a real Feral looks like…”
Footsteps rushed in behind him as Kor’shi stepped in with a raised fist.
Hr’ent reacted instantly, his Peacemaker training kicking in without a thought. He’d fought multiple opponents more often than any of the others during training, and he’d gotten very good at it.
He lowered into a medium crouch and then surged backward, his arms held wide and his elbows bent. His body, at least 60 kilos heavier than Fen’wyn’s, crashed into the surprised mercenary. Hr’ent slammed his head into Fen’wyn’s muzzle as the mercenary tried to close his arms around Hr’ent’s body.
Hr’ent grabbed Fen’wyn’s left arm, bent over at the waist, and pulled with all his strength as he shifted his hips into a body throw. Fen’wyn yelped as his elbow bent backward with a resounding CRACK. The mercenary roared in anguish as he rose over Hr’ent’s body and slammed into the advancing Kor’shi. Both mercs went down in a tangle of limbs, their bodies smacking against the permacrete.
Su’mar sent a fast
jab rocketing in from the side as Raw’wna shot a roundhouse kick toward Hr’ent’s mid-section. Hr’ent managed to raise his knee just in time to catch the kick on his shin, but despite leaning back, the jab caught him across the muzzle and twisted his head around with a sharp lance of pain down his neck.
Hr’ent dropped his raised knee, and back-handed Raw’wna in the muzzle, prompting a yip of pain. He then lowered slightly to duck beneath a punch from Raw’wna and pivoted his shoulders. Pushing hard off his planted foot, he sent his right paw straight into Su’mar’s solar plexus as hard as he could. Su’mar grunted with a WHOOF of air from his lungs as the night was filled with the sound of cracking ribs. Hr’ent surged forward, put his paws behind Su’mar’s head and hammered his knee into the merc’s mid-section. Ribs broke.
A heavy fist pounded into the back of Hr’ent’s head, sending him tumbling forward over Su’mar. The wounded mercenary slammed into the ground, gasping desperately to get air back into his lungs. Hr’ent rolled over him and spun up to his feet just in time to see Raw’wna’s snarling face and the bared claws of his right paw.
Hr’ent raised his arm and blocked the slashing blow, but Raw’wna raked his claws down Hr’ent’s arm, leaving deep slashes and a spray of blood. The simmering rage within him exploded into raw fury. His vision went red. Whatever Peacemaker training he’d had evaporated in a storm of Feral rage.
The roar that passed his lips didn’t come from a civilized Oogar. It came from Hr’ent’s past…from his father…from generations of Feral Oogar who had spent thousands of years fighting the worst beasts Uuwato had to offer.
Raw’wna attempted another slash, claws barred, this time at Hr’ent’s muzzle.
Hr’ent blocked the slash just in time and wrapped his arm over and around Raw’wna’s. He heaved upward, applying a joint lock that straightened Raw’wna’s back. Fueled by rage, Hr’ent extended his claws and drove them deep into Raw’wna’s belly. Hot blood poured over his claws as Raw’wna let out an agonized yowl of pain. Hr’ent released Raw’wna’s arm and raised his own. In a flash, he slashed down across an exposed shoulder and neck. He felt his claws tear through flesh and rake against bone.
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