Blood's Nexus

by K MacBurn

  The Crows were trying to herd them somewhere; Tarak sensed this, and, instead of following their plan, he veered to the West, taking the teen with him.

  “You are gonna have to trust me and jump.”

  The statement confused Taylor, but within seconds she understood. She could hear the giant underground waterfall ahead, but in the poor light she couldn’t see it.

  They could hear the water dropping suddenly into an even darker hole. How far the drop was, or what awaited them at the bottom, was a mystery.

  The Rugby captain gripped Tarak’s hand and steeled herself to take the plunge.

  The two launched themselves over the side before the Crows could catch up after their sudden detour.

  As the air rushed by, Taylor readied for the crash into the cold water below when, out of nowhere, her left shoulder jolted painfully and someone pulled her to a stop, mid-air. Tarak’s hand was wrenched out of hers, and she had to watch in horror as he disappeared before her eyes into the dark. The sound of him hitting the water was lost in the rumble of the harsh torrents.

  Fear crawled through her chest; fear that fueled a snarl of her own as she twisted up to see the Crow that had grabbed her. Her flight or fight mode kicked in, and a fight was the only thing on her mind.

  The Rugby Captain reached up and grabbed the Crow by the leg, then flexed her core to whip her feet up and kicked the thing in the back. It was a gamble since she was in the air, and it didn’t pay off as well as she had hoped.

  Taylor crashed into the stone hard, pain flaring in her already tortured shoulder. Before she could even get her bearing, there was another Crow on top of her trying to wrestle iron cuffs onto her wrists. The bird wasn’t much bigger than the teen, so when she swung it didn’t take much to get the magic user to drop.

  Sunlight was peeking through the cavern, and the small battle between Jarden and the Crows was still going strong. The crackle of electricity and magic was enough to make the pebbles and debris vibrate over the ground.

  Taylor looked around frantically; the stairway out was her best option, but it was close to the fighting. The alternate route would be the sheer cliff; the Tiger’s claws would have made short work of that, but, for her, it was just too risky without his help.

  There was no time to waste.

  The path to the stairs was straight forward, so Taylor took it. The image of herself in chains and locked away to be bled on demand kept her motivated to run like she never ran before.

  At the halfway point, she knew the cavern grew still. Confused, she ducked into a nearby hut and looked around; the magic had stopped. There were no flashes of light, no bangs or explosions.

  The Croc must have assumed Tarak had gotten her out because he had disappeared. Literally.

  An angry shriek from Avis broke the silence.

  “The fighter went over the waterfall, I know the human is still here. Find it. FIND IT!”

  Taylor’s breath rattled in her chest as she tried not to cry. The teen slunk back from the cut-out that served for a window and put her back against the wall. Loud whoosh of wings overhead stirred the air as the Crows started their search.

  The hunting knife tucked in the top of her boot came out and was held ready in her right hand. Taylor hoped she would not have to use it, but if it was between her or them, she would pick herself.

  A sliver of stairs and sky could be seen from the small stone hut. Avis and a couple of Crows were perched near the top, their eyes scanning the old walkways below.

  Taylor watched them, determined to find a way out, but, in her focus, she was not prepared for the wooden door to splinter, then crash inward beside her. Her breath caught in her throat, and she grabbed her own mouth to keep from screaming.

  In through the ruined entryway strode the General. His eyes sweeping the hut, starting from his right to his left.

  It was a split-second decision. Taylor used her weapon to slash the massive beast’s left leg as she ducked and bolted out a small opening between his bulk and the wall. As soon as she hit the street, she turned away from the stairs and headed back towards the West. Her goal was the waterfall. She would rather take the risk with the blind drop than the guaranteed capture if she tried to go up the stairs.

  The plan was interrupted when the General recovered from his surprise far quicker than expected. Taylor also wasn’t prepared for the agility of the walking behemoth.

  Up and over a low stone building, the General landed lightly in front of her. His tough looking leathery hide was covered in dark scars, his beady eyes were dark but intelligent, and his muscles bulged from every angle.

  Taylor swallowed the fear that threatening to cripple her and reacted the only way she knew how when he grabbed her.

  The humans of Nexus past were little more than animals themselves: basic thinking and survival instinct. This could be why General Godwin underestimated his tiny prey.

  Taylor sidestepped the first attempt, but could not avoid his left hand as it wrapped around her arm completely. Instead of burning the energy to pull away, the Rugby Captain threw herself forward and drove the well-made hunting knife clean through the metal breastplate and deep into the flesh beneath.

  With a jerk-reaction, the Gorilla threw the stinging pest forward and grabbed the offending blade. Taylor went with the momentum and rolled back to her feet as soon as she hit the ground, bolting away. Anything that could be used as an obstacle was, and any tight space she could fit through that forced him to go around, was utilized.

  It could have been a hard-fought victory to the river if a fireball didn’t explode right in front of Taylor’s face. The heat and embers forced her to skid to a halt and throw her arms up to protect her eyes.

  The wasted moments dashed all hopes of an escape. This time, the Gorilla bear-hugged her tight so she could not fight back, while a Crow slapped on the restraints.

  Avis landed beside them with a huge smile across her oddly proportioned face.

  “Ha ha, finally. Look at this.” Her eyes took in Taylor’s disheveled form with interest. “A human for sure, but so different. Taller, lighter skin. And those eyes….”

  The Crow Witch leaned forward to study Taylor’s intense blue orbs.

  The teen took that opportunity to send a solid headbutt into the other female’s large nose. With a satisfying crunch, and a spray of blood the Witch fell back.

  “Little wretch!” Screeched the Crow. Her gaze snapped back up to Taylor’s with malicious intent. Taylor remained silent but did not back down. General Godwin pointedly turned so part of his body shielded the teen from view.

  “We must go, Avis. If Jarden returns, we will be in for a fight, and Lord Ransidius wants his prize now.”

  Avis huffed and ruffled her feathers in irritation before nodding. The murder took to the air, and Taylor found herself thrown over the Generals shoulder like a sack of flour.

  Chapter 9

  Restraints dug in to her wrists, and the Generals shoulder plate had turned her side into a massive bruise. For a day and a half, they traveled at top speed through the grasslands till they passed into a more boreal forest region below the high northern mountains.

  After several escape attempts, fighting, and refusing food and water, her morale was dimming because it did nothing to slow the Gorilla's progress. It felt like no time before the large stone walls of the Sabre stronghold could be seen on the horizon.

  The outlining buildings were composed of mud and stick shacks, many of which seemed to be inhabited by the Prey tribes.

  As the General passed, the Prey ducked their heads and hurried out of his way. A few glances were directed at her, thrown over Godwin’s shoulder, but they didn’t seem too distraught at the sight; Wasn’t the first time they brought a prisoner to the castle.

  As they got closer to the city center, the buildings changed to stone, Sabres and a few select species that made up Ransidius’ army became the norm.

  The strong hold itself was a walled in complex and, as they approac
hed, they were stopped by female guards.

  This was the first-time Taylor saw a female big cat. They were smaller than their male counterparts, but they were strong with dense, compacted muscles and formidable natural weapons. They also commanded a great deal of respect, because even the General hesitated before approaching.

  It took a moment for Taylor to notice that for the two standing in front there was another six well hidden in the surrounding area.

  “You can tell Ransidius I have his human,” Godwin announced.

  “He is not here. He had to deal with a problem at the Northern camp. Should be back tomorrow.”

  The female looked around at Taylor.

  “What did you do, roll it in a mud puddle?”

  Matted hair, torn clothes and caked-on mud made Taylor a pathetic sight.

  “It is a lot feistier than it looks. Stabbed me in the chest with a damn knife.” He showed the Lioness the hole through his breastplate. To Taylor’s surprise the Lioness laughed. “What do you want to do with it till Ransidius’ get back?”

  “Throw it in the dungeon. And let Narseen know it is there; she might be more knowledgeable to its needs than I,” the Lioness decided after a minute.

  The General nodded and gave the control to the females. Two Lioness’ came over as Godwin dumped Taylor on the ground. She got up on her own before the Sabre had to grab her.

  It was a quiet trip into the building and down the stone steps. The dungeon was damp, and smelt of moldy straw, feces, and rotten flesh. A few of the cells had occupants, but, in the dim light, it wouldn’t allow specific details.

  As she approached her own cell, she couldn’t help think, in her current state, it was a fitting accommodation. One of the Lioness’ removed her shackles, then motioned her in, not expecting any resistance.

  Taylor stepped inside in utter defeat, and couldn’t help but wince as the door snapped shut behind her.

  The trials of the last couple days, the lack of food and water, and her current situation weighed on her. Her chest restricted, and she had to fight to keep the tears at bay.

  She waited till the Sabres left before collapsing on the floor and hugging her knees to her chest.

  A bowl of water and some mystery meat were deposited in her cell some time later, but she didn’t bother moving. She would rather waste away than eat their scraps. It seemed like a last-ditch effort at defiance.

  The coughing and scrapping of the other animals were a constant and, when the sun went down, everything turned pitch black.

  “Are you going to eat that?” came a raspy voice to her left. She could see the glow of two eyes, but that was about it. The voice alone told a story, though. He had been down here for a while judging by the strain in his voice, and he was weak. A gurgle in his breath also showed a chest cold or pneumonia. “Do you speak?”

  Taylor didn’t reply; the fact she could speak their language seemed like a good thing to keep to herself. Still, the teen had an idea where the plate was, so she used her foot to push it under the bars to the left. She took the liberty to send the water too.

  “Much obliged,” said the prisoner.

  She heard him tear into the meat. By the cracking and crunching, it was safe to assume he was eating the bone with it.

  When the sounds of eating disappeared, the dishes were pushed back underneath the bars. Glowing eyes appeared behind the bars and studied her. Taylor was not in the mood, so she remained silent, and still.

  “Death down here is slow, but a life of slavery and pain is worse. You have my prayers little human, you have my prayers.”

  With that, a gnarled old wolf turned away and sat with his back against the bars.

  The Animan was being starved to death, and his prayers were with her; the mere thought made her sick to her stomach.

  Taylor was so tired and very cold. She was shivering when a distant torch lit the slimy walls. Footsteps and voices grew louder as a party of Lioness’ came into the holding area.

  The glow showed a dead Elk to her right, and the ragged old Wolf to her left. The wolf’s appearance matched his voice. His shaggy grey fur was matted around his pointed ears and head. His once hard body was sunken and depleted, but his brown eyes still held life and defiance.

  The group of Lioness’ stopped in front of her cell. The one leading the way was older than the other three. Her tawny hair was pulled back into a tight bun, her clothes were high end but functional, and her posture screamed regal.

  “Filthy little thing. We must clean it up before Ransidius gets here tomorrow,” was what she said after a long pause.

  One of the Lioness’ went to open the door before an outstretched hand stopped her.

  “Be weary. Godwin said it gave him more trouble on the journey back here then he expected. He even showed me where it stabbed him in the chest, clean through his breastplate.”

  The regal one regarded the teen skeptically. After a moment, her original opinion seemed to stand.

  “We will put it in a locked chamber with proper accommodations. If it cleans itself up, great. If not, we will still have to do it. Open the door Marla; don’t grab it, just see if it will follow.”

  Most of the fight was gone out of the teen, and she just wanted to curl up in a ball somewhere and cry. It was more from this self pity she did not mention she spoke their language, nor did she voice her disapproval of being called a “it” all the time, and didn’t even make eye contact with them.

  The physical cues the Lioness’ gave were enough to understand their intent as the teen followed them out of the dungeon and into the main stone strong hold.

  Giant bricks of blue stone made up the walls and floors of the three-storey building. Most of the decorations that were mounted were animal heads and pelts but occasionally there was a wall tapestry that would depict some violent scene of the Sabres’ past.

  One stood out with a pride of Sabres circled around a much larger Tiger.

  Once Taylor realized what was happening in the picture, she had to turn away and try to contain her tears even more. It hurt to think of Tarak. The last she saw he was falling into a dark void, and she didn’t even know if he was okay.

  The Lioness’ ignored her as they walked through the corridors until they came to a simple wooden door with cast iron locks.

  “We will lock it up here,” Narseen said, “Leave a male at the door. They can worry about their chew toy staying put while we have more important things to do.”

  The door opened, and Taylor wasn’t given any option in the matter. A Sabre gave the teen a shove, and then the door snapped close behind her. The click of the lock confirmed that this would be her last stop.

  The room was a step up from the dungeon, with a large lit fireplace, a four-posted bed covered in furs, a wooden tub filled with a sweet-smelling water, and a table piled high with breads and meats.

  There was a small window high up, covered in cast iron bars to prevent escape, but it allowed fresh air and sunlight in.

  For all the good that came with the change of accommodation, it didn’t cover the fact it was still a prison and Taylor was still a prisoner.

  The teen pressed herself into the corner behind the bed and pulled her knees to her chest. Tears never came, but the turn of events knotted her stomach, and her hands shook.

  Food was left untouched, and the fire was only lit when a servant came in to do it.

  The coming and going of the servant, the occasional visit from the older Lioness Narseen were all filed away in the back of Taylor’s head, but she did not react to them. Her emotions felt as though they were dulled, or even non-existent.

  Hours ticked by, and the situation did not change.

  Narseen and one of the other females entered again and stood in the doorway for a long moment.

  “What do you want to do?” The younger Sabre asked.

  “I think we will give it till the morning. I feel as though this entire ordeal might have sent it into shock, and forcing it to into water might make it
worse.”

  “Will Ransidius be upset it’s broken?”

  The older Sabre shrugged.

  “It can still be bled, so it will serve its purpose, short term. Though, it might have to be kept chained if it becomes a hazard to its own health.”

  As the door clicked behind them, the conversation registered in Taylor’s mind. They were right if she was viewed as weak, she would be watched closer and used by everyone. If she presented herself in a manner that the massive Cats could respect, she would probably receive better treatment, and maybe not be at the bottom of this food chain.

  The social game wasn’t new; often she would have to dress up for Tex’s parties and benefits, just so he could present his beautiful wife and step-daughter to friends. Appearances were everything to the rich elitists.

  Battles were won with more than just brute strength, and this one would require cleverness on her part.

  Taylor helped herself to some food on the table to start. It was hard to focus on anything else when her stomach was sore from hunger.

  When the most basic of needs were fulfilled, she moved on to the other problems.

  Rose petals floated in the clean wash tub when the Rugby captain first entered the bath. By the time she left with her hair free of knots and her skin free of mud; the water was a literal cesspool.

  Someone folded a thick fluffy towel on the floor beside the tub, so she wrapped herself in that, since her own leathers were in tatters.

  Being naked in this place was disconcerting, but she ignored her modesty for the time being in favor of rooting through the chest of clothing at the foot of her bed. She selected things that would mimic the Sabre clothing style, but also make her stand out. The Lioness’ wore a flowing pant that tied around the hips and the ankles giving the maximum range of motion but letting it breathe in the humid air. With the tan pants, they wore a leather vest that looked to be for protection. The only splash of color was a red sash they all wore somewhere on their person.