Shizen. I have to do something 'cause I know what their intent is. I can see a hole in a mound of dirt about four armspans from us, obviously a nest or den or whatever else these hell creatures live in, and I bet my life that's where they're aiming to take the boy.
Thunk! I catch movement outta the corner of my eye as a knife whizzes through the air and sticks into the side of the creature dragging the boy. The thing makes no sound of pain, but it releases Finn, and its claws snap in spiteful anger as it scurries towards its attacker. Jax. It moves real quick, but now that it’s away from the boy, I don't hesitate. I raise my shooter and fire before it gets too close, causing the creature to explode in a torrential rain of shell and guts and black goo, splattering the grass and Jax with its innards.
Immediately I aim for the second creature, but Jax's shout of "Behind you!" gives me just enough warning to turn and raise my arms protectively over my face as another one of the beasts leaps at me from the long grass. Its momentum knocks my shooter outta my grip and sends us both crashing to the ground. I hold it at arm's length, its claws reaching for me and the tail rattling furiously above my head. I can almost feel its intense rage. I twist my head away from the serrated claw as it snaps terrifyingly close to my cheek and try to push it offa me, but my arms are starting to weaken and shake from holding its weight. In slow motion, the pinchers move closer, and I ready myself to feel the pain of having my face ripped apart.
Suddenly, the crushing weight is pushed offa me with enough force to flip me over face-first into the dirt. Choking on the grit now in my mouth and nose, I push myself to my knees to find Talbert grappling with the creature, his piercing knife sending spurts of black goo into the air.
"There's more of 'em comin', Mistress. Move!" he yells over his shoulder at me, his face dripping with the slick blood of the creature he’d just killed. He is right. They’re swarming outta the tall grasses: a horde of angry, pincher-snapping, killing machines.
Spotting my shooter on the ground, I dive for it at the same time another of those things takes a flying leap at me. With no time to think, I snatch the shooter as I fall hard on my shoulder and fire into the air at the menacing shadow just inches from my head. I don't miss. Its hot innards splatter my face and my arms, and my stomach heaves at the putrid smell that fills my senses. But there ain't no time to void my gut like the desperate urging wants to do. Bolting to my feet, I fire at the next creature and the next, each shot finding its target true. All around me are the echoing shouts and shots of the others as they defend themselves from the drove, but there ain't no time to check on 'em. It takes all my concentration to keep myself from being gutted. I shoot 'til the clicking of the empty chamber lets me know there ain't no more slugs. Throwing the now useless weapon aside, I grab the knife from my boot.
"Come on!" I scream at the beasts, my fear stripped away now, leaving nuthin' but the primal instinct to survive.
A loud wailing pierces my anger-clouded brain. It draws my attention to Cat. She’s standing protectively over Finn, one of the creatures slicing her good with every swipe it takes at her, but she don't move. She ain't leaving the boy unprotected.
Finn. Seeing him lying there, not knowing if he’s even still alive, I act without thinking of consequences. I run and leap onto the hard, shelled back of the beast threatening him, burying my knife deep into its head before it can get me with its barbed tail. It bucks and twists under my weight, but I hold on tight, stabbing again and again 'til my hand is covered in its slick blood, almost causing me to lose my grip on the knife. I ain't even realized I'm screaming like a madwoman 'til someone grabs me by the shoulders and starts shaking me.
"Tara. Tara, it's over."
"No," I snarl and shake Mack's hand offa me. I give another stab for good measure, but the creature ain't moving no more. It’s dead.
The silence hits me along with the realization that Mack is right. The shouting, shooting, and screams had stopped. The silence is almost painful. I look around in stunned confusion at the carcasses of the creatures littering the ground. Black shelled corpses are everywhere, but at least there ain't no human bodies other than—I spot the small figure on the ground.
"Finn!" I cry, stumbling to him, but Mack beats me to it and rolls him over gently with his big hands. The boy’s not moving, his face pale and ashen, showing no signs of life. I pull up short.
"Is he—" I cain't bring myself to say the rest of the words; they stick in my throat.
Mack just shakes his head at me, his face strained with worry. "He's alive, but they pierced him."
I can see the raised, red welt on Finn's side as soon as Mack lifts the tunic up over the skinny little frame. The raw lesion already has angry veins of red radiating from the puncture wound, and my breath catches in my throat. Mack draws his knife and runs its edge sideways over the welt, and I immediately start screaming at him and grabbing his arm.
"What the hell you doin'? You're gonna cut him."
He shoves me away roughly. "I have to get the barb out."
Jax grabs my arm, preventing me from interfering anymore. "Mack knows what he's doing, Tara. Leave him be."
I yank my arm away. "Why ain't he wakin' up then? If Mack knows what he's doin', why ain't Finn wakin' up?"
Mack, done with the knife, jumps to his feet and scoops Finn up, ignoring my caterwauling. He runs in the direction of our camp through the tall grass, yelling over at Riven, who has joined him in his desperate dash.
"Get the medicinals from the wagon. We have to draw out the venom before it spreads any further."
Riven nods and sprints ahead to the campsite. I watch, dumbfounded, as they all rush off, Cat on their heels, not willing to let Finn outta her sight. They leave me standing there with Jax and Tater, Talbert and Beanie. We all just stand there looking at each other, covered in guts and goo, too shocked for words I reckon.
"What are those things?" I say finally to no one in particular. I just need answers; I don't care who gives them. I stumble over to the half man. "Tater, what are those things? Did they poison Finn? Their poison ain't deadly if it's caught in time, right?"
He looks up at me, and the tears in his eyes jolt me through to my core. I don't like what they imply, and I sure as hell don't wanna hear it.
"Tara, Finn is so tiny and—"
"No," I say, cutting him off. I refuse to hear it. "Just tell me what they are."
He rubs his cheek, inadvertently causing the gob of black goo sitting there to spread a little more. "They are called Scorpi-ants, I believe, though I have never had the misfortune to come across one before. Wasn't even aware they lived in the wilds anymore. Last I heard, they had almost become extinct. That is why the Prezedant started farming them. As black as their blood runs, cooked properly, their meat is as tender as the meat of the gods. But I have never seen one in the wild before. They are far too dangerous to mankind to be allowed to spread into our cities. For as much as we enjoy their meat, they have acquired a taste for ours in return, perhaps even more so."
I shudder at what Tater’s telling me. So they took Finn to eat him? I swallow the bile in the back of my throat. "So if people know 'bout 'em, then they know how to treat the poison, right? Mack can save him?"
"Mack is an educated man, Tara. If anything can be done for the boy, he will know. But I must warn you, girl. The toxins the Scorpi-ants deliver have a very paralyzing effect. Once delivered into the bloodstream of any other living creature, odds are—"
"Tara, maybe we should go see if Mack needs our help," Jax interrupts, glaring at Tater, who shuts up immediately. "Besides, when Finn wakes up, he's going to want you to be there."
I nod, not trusting myself to speak right now. Jax is right. When Finn woke up I should be there, 'cause I know he’s gonna be so scared. Probably just as scared as I am right now.
The campsite is a scene of organized confusion. Finn is laid out on a bedroll, Cat at his head with her own head resting on her big paws as close to him as she can get without being i
n the way. Mack kneels at his side, cleaning the wound as Riven hovers over him, mixing a paste in a bowl. One of Riven's crew is tearing strips from a blanket and handing them to Mack. I watch in silence as Mack lathers the strips of cloth with the black paste and places it squarely over Finn's wound. It must hurt like hell, but the boy don't even flinch. He looks so tiny lying there, so helpless. My throat is tight with my tears, and I just wanna bawl at the sight of him.
"What is that, Mack?" My voice sounds horse, and I give a small cough and swallow hard.
Mack don't look up at me, but he answers quietly, "Charcoal poultice. It helps draw out poison. Well, it does with smaller bites and stings. This is something totally unfamiliar."
"But it will work, right?" I reckon he can hear the desperation in my voice 'cause he studies me wordlessly for a bit before giving me a slight nod.
"It is a very effective method, yes. But we shall see. Only time will tell."
I guess his answer was better than nuthin', but it don't make me feel any better. I want to go to Finn, hold him, but I know that ain't gonna help anything. I'm so full of anger and worry I cain't stand still. I run my hands through my hair, trying desperately not to scream at the top of my lungs. I need to do something, anything, or I’m gonna lose it. A light touch on my arm jolts me like a bolt of lightning, and I turn to find Jax watching me with worried eyes.
"Come with me," he says quietly, but I shake my head no.
"I ain't leavin' here," I say.
"Tara, there’s nothing you can do for Finn at the moment. Now come."
Taking my hand in his, I don't resist as he leads me to Tater's tow cart and sits me down on the back of the wagon.
"Stay," he says, and I surprisingly obey. He leaves me for a bit but is soon back with a bowl of water and one of the cloths Mack was using to bandage Finn. I watch as he dips the cloth in the bowl and gently starts to wipe my face. It shocks me at first when the cloth comes away covered in black pulp before I remember the Scorpi-ants. We’re still wearing the remnants of our battle. Too weary to argue, I just close my eyes and tolerate his ministrations as he wipes my face and hair. It’s somewhat soothing, his touch lulling me into a sense of calm, and I have to stop myself from leaning into his solid chest and breaking down like a young'un.
How did I let this happen? I was supposed to be on watch. Why did I wait so long to warn Finn to get outta the grass? He’s hurt, probably dying, and it’s my fault.
"Hey, it's okay. Finn will be just fine," he says gently, breaking my reverie, and my eyes pop open in surprise. I ain't said anything out loud. Why would he feel the need to console me? But then his two thumbs brush against my cheeks, and I'm surprised to feel wetness there. I’m crying. And in front of Jax, how humiliating.
I wanna push him away, hide my weakness. But instead, I let him continue to wipe my tears and don't even try to move away when he leans in and brushes my forehead with his lips. It’s the slightest of contact, a comforting gesture, nuthin' more, but the touch sends a current jolting through my body. I let my traitorous body do what it wants and lean into his warmth, a sob catching in my throat as the tears flow freely. His arms pull me against his chest, and I bury my face in his tunic, not caring anymore that I’m bawling like a baby. I hear the steady thrumming of his heart echoing in my head, the beat calm and comforting.
His hand rubs my back, the heat from it burning through to my skin, scorching me where it touches.
"He'll be okay," he murmurs over and over again, reassuring me so that I almost believe him. Almost.
"Mack!"
Riven's yell makes my blood run cold, and I push Jax away. I’m on my feet and running. I pull up short at the sight before my eyes, swallowing the scream in my throat. Finn is thrashing wildly, his body bucking so violently I'm afraid he will break his neck. White froth is leaking from his blue lips, and his eyes are opened wide, rolled back, nuthin' but the whites showing.
"He's dyin'!" I scream helplessly, unable to hold it in any longer. Cat is pacing back and forth, wailing so loud it hurts my ears. Riven and Mack try to hold Finn in place to keep him from hurting himself, but even with four hands, they can barely contain him.
"He's burning up," I hear Riven yell and then Tater's mournful, "No, no, no."
I cain't move. Finn is dying right in front of me, and I cain't move.
"Tara, don't watch," Jax shouts in my ear as he tries to pull me away, but I shrug him off. Finn cain't die. We have to do something. I have to do something.
All of a sudden, an image of a wilted stem pops into my frantic brain, and I remember Lily's demonstration.
She’d told me that I could use my Chi and apply it to objects and others. Apply it to others.
I need my chi, but it failed me last time in the alley with the thieves. It hadn't come. I cain't have that happen again. Finn doesn't have much time.
Ignoring Jax and the chaos around me, I close the distance between me and Finn, knowing what I have to do. I kneel at his side between Riven and Mack and clear my mind of the world around me. I picture my Chi as a slight flame growing brighter, flowing in me, emanating from every part of my being. I imagine it bursting from me, covering Finn in healing waves. The frantic noise around me stops as I feel the welcoming calm enveloping me, though whether there’s actual silence or if it’s just all in my head, I ain't sure. I rip the poultice off, place my hands on the inflamed wound, and Finn thrashes under my touch. I imagine the poison flowing through his body reversing, pulled back by my hands, and sucked out by my aura. I picture the wound in my head healing and the swelling disappearing from existence. A fierce heat suddenly encases my hands and I watch them exude, well, a flash of light I guess is the only way to describe it. This bright light seems to hover for a bit around the wound; I ain't sure for how long. In my own head, time stands still as I picture the wound healing, over and over and over again. Then slowly, the aura fades away, leaving me woozy and nauseous.
A cold sweat covers me, and I fall back on my heels, the exhaustion instantaneous. I look down at my hands. They look normal. No light, no aura. Had I just imagined all of what happened? I look at Finn.
He’s still now, and his eyes closed. Oh gods, he's dead. I couldn't save him. The panic threatens to destroy me 'til I notice his chest. It moves up and down. The movement is very shallow but definitely happening. He’s still breathing. I look down at his wound, and I’m shocked to see that the ugly, red veins have disappeared. Hope swells in my chest as I scrape off the charcoal paste to find the skin around the puncture wound returning to its normal color, the wound itself just a pale shade of pink. Did I cause this?
I glance up at the others; I need them to confirm what I think to be real. They’re all staring down at me with wide-eyed shock. I don't even remember Riven leaving Finn's side, but he’s now standing with his two men, gawking at me like I’m some sorta freak. Their look tells me it’s real all right. It isn't all in my head. Everyone just witnessed what happened. I wait for the accusations of freak or mutie to leave their lips, but there’s just this deafening silence.
"What?" I question, unable to stand their silence any longer.
Talbert and Beanie step tentatively towards me then, and I watch in horror as they drop to their knees, heads bowed in reverence. Then Tater follows suit. Wait, no. What are they doing? Don't bow down to me. Jax and Mack smile at me like they just witnessed a god appear in front of them. No, don't look at me like that. I wanna scream it at all of 'em. Stop looking at me like that. My eyes find Riven, hoping that he’ll be the one sane person in this sea of madness right now, but he just gives me this smile of pure wonder and covers his heart with his hand, his two men following his example.
"Well, boys, seems like we’ve just witnessed our first true miracle. All hail the New Blood."
I think I would’ve rather been called freak or mutie, anything but that.
4
The City
Skytown could not have been more aptly named. The dead city ruins we’d
passed through, even Littlepass, nuthin' could compare to the sheer scope of this entity that is Skytown. Even after all I’ve already seen, this place still leaves me speechless in wonder.
At first sight of it, I’d reckoned it to be another mountain range—a dark, hulking figure on the horizon. But as we ride closer, the blurred, hazy image takes on definition, and Finn, who’s riding at my side, gasps out loud. I know exactly how he feels. My own heart beats something fierce at the sight of the metal structures that seem to grow from the ground straight up into the sky itself. These ain't no iron bones either. These are honest to goodness buildings still intact. Rows upon rows of them stretching far into the horizon. Shizen. How is it possible for buildings to be built so high? And how do they stand and not topple over in the fierce winds? The old folk had spoke of this, but I don’t think I truly believed it to be real, let alone that I would ever see it.
The towering structures are surrounded at their base by a thick, stone wall that must be at least five armspans high. On top of the wall, there is what appears to be layers of spiked wire, giving more height to the enormous palisade and adding to the belief that this is a place you enter by invitation only. Through the coils of wire, I can see people moving about on the wall: spotters, I reckon. I can feel every one of them watching us, and I truly hope they’re not the sort of sentries to shoot first and ask questions later.
But that ain't all. Outside of the great wall stand four gigantic columns—two to a side—that reach straight up into the blue sky. Enormous, standalone pillars of gray, each of the columns contain three long, spindly blades at their tips. The sun glints offa the blades as they spin lazily in the slight winds like the pinwheels Grada used to make me when I was a young'un. I wonder if it’s the same basic principle for these. Are they being moved by the winds? And what exactly is their purpose? Tater's tale of Finn and the giant suddenly pops into my head, and I cain't help the slight shiver that runs over me, even though I know I'm being foolish.
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