Giahem's Talons

by Katharine Wibell

  “This is indeed Giahem’s Wings,” said Yena once the bow was back in her possession. “It has been returned to us.” She stroked the smooth side until she reached the runes on the handle. “Yet my question remains. Why is the human’s life of value?”

  Now that the high priestess had authenticated the bow, Lluava roared out, “Because he can wield it!”

  A Guardian’s muffled voice was heard. “Impossible.”

  “Please. Let him show you,” Lluava implored, yet still Aquila was not released. “High Priestess, if he can wield a god’s weapon, that must mean something. Shouldn’t it?”

  Yena nodded. The captive was allowed to slowly approach and take hold of the bow. In a single smooth movement, Aquila drew the string back and released it. The resounding, low-pitched twang echoed around the room like rumbling thunder.

  The high priestess moved close to the nomad. Her eyes studied his every feature, pausing at the line of crusting blood on his tanned forehead. Then she quickly turned about, ascended her throne, and stated nonchalantly, “The human will live.”

  Lluava released a sigh of relief as Yena continued, “Assign the human and the rest of our new guests quarters, and provide them food and medicine.”

  Unabashed, Aquila spoke out. “I want to stay with the she-tiger.”

  This was certainly unexpected. Until recently, the nomad had sworn to kill Lluava. Fortunately, the high priestess was not upset by the human’s disrespectful attitude. A slight smile appeared at the corner of her mouth.

  “As you wish.”

  Before Lluava could retreat to her former rooms, Yena’s voice broke out again. “I have one more question. Why have you returned, Incarn of Theri?”

  Lluava needed a reason, and not the real one, to offer the waiting priestess. “As you said, I am the Incarn of Theri. I cannot deny that. As an Incarn, my place is alongside you and the other Incarn. I cannot abandon the Theriomorphs who fight here. I have a responsibility, a duty, one I was created for. I must fulfill it now.”

  Understanding that the best lies come from truth, Lluava looked around at the Guardians. None moved or spoke. “I left during the uprising in order to get Varren to safety. You know that. I also believe that you were aware of my affection for him. He was my military partner and my friend. You may not agree with my actions, but I could not watch my friend die, even if it would have been better for my race. That was a selfishness I fully admit to and will continue to defend. Yet, after helping him escape, I realized that I could not abandon you. So, I have come back to help. You may not believe me, but I have come to finish this fight.”

  In a voice like the rustling of dry leaves, a Guardian inquired, “How can we trust you?”

  “You may never find it in yourselves to trust me,” acknowledged Lluava. “But I am here to defeat the Raiders. I have brought with me the clans, who still stand by the old faith, and Aquila, who can wield Giahem’s Wings.”

  Whispered words fluttered up to the vaulted ceiling as the Guardians deliberated. Yena seemed to capture everything that was said. Finally, she lifted one ebony hand, silencing all. “Crocotta is the Mother Goddess. And what is a mother who cannot forgive a misguided child? Go to your chambers, Lluava. Rest. We will speak later.”

  Bowing slightly in feigned respect, Lluava slowly made her way to her rooms. Her seared feet throbbed with every step. Even though the Endun shoes covered her soles, Lluava could feel blisters. The leg grazed by the arrow only added to her pain.

  Aquila followed her like a shadow. Neither one questioned why Yena had permitted the human to keep Giahem’s Wings; a bow with no arrows was useless. The nomad clutched the weapon to his chest as if protecting something precious. This feeling Lluava understood; whenever she was separated from the Claws, she felt as if a part of her were missing. Was it the same for him?

  She could sense Aquila’s discomfort. His eyes were wide, and he seemed hyperalert. Suddenly, Lluava realized the nomad had never been in a city, much less a king’s castle. The grandeur of scale and magnificence of furnishings must be overwhelming. She remembered the first time Cronus loomed up before her. The castle at its heart, with all its spires and towers, was unlike anything else in Elysia.

  “It’s this door,” Lluava indicated. Stepping into the room, she allowed him a moment to take it all in. It was just as she remembered. The lovely sitting area filled much of the main room. The fireplace was already stacked with wood. Even Onyx’s perch awaited the return of the raven. The bedroom was entered from the archway on the right. The emerald green curtains of the four-poster canopied bed were tied back to reveal a number of soft pillows and a down-filled comforter.

  Aquila walked to the large glass doors on the far side of the room. He peered at the private balcony that overlooked much of Cronus. The doors had been fixed, its shattered glass mended, as if someone had expected Lluava’s return.

  “It’s different, isn’t it?” Lluava asked as she eased onto the velvety couch and gave her feet a reprieve.

  “Different might not be the word.”

  She moved a pillow to the small of her back. “You know, you can put down the bow. You don’t have to hold it forever.

  “You would leave the Claws?” he asked warily.

  Looking at the weapons still positioned over her knuckles, Lluava shook her head. “I guess not, for now.”

  “You are smart, then.”

  There was a knock. Luka poked his head inside. “Licking your wounds yet?”

  He smiled at Lluava, then eyed Aquila with obvious curiosity.

  “What are you doing here, Luka?” asked Lluava. She could not push aside her suspicion that he had been sent to spy for Selene.

  Stepping through the doorway, the young nobleman bowed low. “I come bearing gifts.” He pulled out a vial of Idun, the Outlanders’ medicine that healed even the most grievous of wounds. Tentatively, Lluava took the offering.

  Luka appeared a bit hurt. “Come, now, Lluava. Have you lost all faith in me?” His eyes flashed to Aquila, who was watching the interchange intently. “In all honesty? I intercepted the healer who was coming your way. I felt I needed a good reason to see you.”

  Lluava observed Luka critically. After all, he was the Incarn for the trickster god, Shennue. Although he appeared to be honest, could she trust him? “Have a seat,” she said, gesturing at one of the wing chairs.

  Once he was comfortable, he continued. “I just want to say that I understand why you did what you did. I hold no blame. I was fond of Varren myself. Yet I am not what you call inherently brave. I loathe fighting.” Luka looked over at Aquila, whose rigid presence could be felt in the room. The Incarn slowly peeled off his fashionable gloves and laid them in his lap. “You can see that I am not built for battle,” he said, indicating his own lanky form, “like your friend, here.” Aquila was certainly far more fit than Luka, although they were both probably the same height. “It’s a wonder that I ever shoot my slingshot in the right direction. I mean—”

  “Stop. I get it,” Lluava said. “You love Selene. She’s your sister. Even though she and I, you know…”

  Luka smiled wickedly. “Are mortal enemies?”

  Lluava couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes. That we are.”

  “She’s a snake. What can I say?” Luka continued to grin. “I just wanted to clear the air between us. I feel that I am still your friend, though you might not see it that way.”

  “Times have been challenging.”

  “Agreed,” Luka stated before looking at the nomad once more. Then, leaning playfully toward Lluava, he asked, “Does he know how to relax?”

  Laughing, Lluava acknowledged, “I don’t actually know.”

  Though clearly not amused, Aquila did not appear insulted. He turned to inspect the light tapping sound coming from the balcony doors.

  Opening one slightly, Onyx flew inside. The raven landed on the table near Lluava and ruffled his feathers so much that he seemed to puff up into a ball. He must have been searching for her
since the chaos of the battle.

  The humorous sight added to the ring of laughter between the pair of Theriomorphs; even Aquila’s face broke into a slight smile. Onyx peered up with his good eye, uncertain what had just happened. Then, with an indignant quork, he began to preen his tail feathers.

  Collecting himself, Luka wiped his tearing eyes with the corner of his handkerchief. “The main reason I wanted to see you tonight was to implore you not to get into any trouble with my dear sister.”

  “You don’t want me to make trouble?” Lluava was insulted. “Me? Why, she tried to kill me!”

  Luka threw his hands in the air in mock defense. “Selene was wrong. We both agree on this. But you really have a knack for getting yourself into unpleasant situations. Trust me, going head to head with my sister would not end well.”

  “For whom?” snarled Lluava. Onyx flew into the air and fluttered about before settling onto his perch.

  “To be honest,” Luka said, “you.”

  Lluava had to bite her tongue to keep from saying something foul. Luka used this to his advantage. “You have connected with your goddess.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Sensed it as soon as I sat near you. This is good. Now, your special gift can manifest and begin to grow. But,” he said before Lluava could chime in, “my sister is much stronger. Her gift has been growing rapidly. Please, this is a friendly warning. I don’t want to see you hurt. Either of you.”

  Sinking lower on the couch, Lluava wondered what he meant. How could Selene’s gift manifest even more? She already had the ability to control any male. Could she manipulate females, too? Or multiple people at once? There were so many questions, yet the one she asked was different.

  “Why did Selene choose to seduce Apex?”

  Luka seemed to struggle with his response, as one does when there is something loathsome to admit. “Why not? He is the ideal image of masculinity. A perfect counterpart for Selene, though a bit too hot-tempered for my taste.”

  “But he is a fellow Incarn.”

  “That is why you do not have to worry about him,” countered Luka truthfully. He paused, toying with his frilled cuffs. “There are other men, you know. Men whom Selene would never bother you about.”

  Lluava knew she had given too much away. Luka had recognized her far-too-strong connection to both Apex and Varren. She needed him to believe she did not constantly think of one or the other. “Like who?”

  “Well, for a start, me. Selene would never…could never…romance me,” he said with a foolish grin, which caused Lluava to laugh. “Why, we would be the talk of the city. The kingdom, even!”

  “We would be, at that,” Lluava, equally playful, agreed. Despite the good humor, she could sense his affinity for her. Without hesitation, she used this to her advantage.

  “Luka, do you know what happened to my friends Talos and Rosalyn? The soldier and his healer wife?”

  “Yes. They are here in New Rhadamanthus. I can take you to them.”

  Chapter 18

  Waiting

  They’re here in the castle!” exclaimed Lluava.

  “Well, not exactly,” Luka explained. “They have been relocated to the city. Most Theriomorphs who were living at court have been assigned other homes, in New Rhadamanthus.”

  “Why?” Lluava asked. Then, realizing the reason, she answered her own question ruefully, “Because Yena wants her own people close to her. Though the others might be Theriomorphs, they are also Elysians.”

  “A little oversimplified, but yes,” concurred Luka. He tucked his handkerchief into his lapel before slipping his gloves back on.

  “Take me to them,” Lluava said excitedly. “But first…” She held up the vial of Idun. Swallowing two drops, she instantly gagged. Nauseated, the young woman bent her head low between her knees and tried not to throw up the putrid liquid.

  “What did you do to her?” Aquila questioned as he leaped next to Luka threateningly.

  “I’m fine,” Lluava said as she struggled to keep from vomiting. “It’s the medicine. Just give me a moment.”

  After a few more slow breaths, Lluava stood up. Tugging at her soiled, oversized clothes, she said, “Let me change into something a little more fitting. Then we’re off.”

  As she put on a V-necked black Endun shirt with white pants identical to those issued to her in the training camps, she heard Luka talking to the nomad.

  “I know you want to join us,” Luka was saying, “but seeing that humans aren’t looked upon kindly here, maybe you should consider staying in this room.”

  Returning to the main chamber, Lluava added, “I think I agree with Luka. The high priestess has allowed you to live in the castle without confinement. You don’t want to risk making her change her mind.”

  Clearly displeased, Aquila moved over to the glass doors. “I will stay with your bird.”

  Onyx ruffled his feathers and muttered contentedly.

  If Aquila had been her friend, Lluava would have teasingly told him to behave himself, but he wasn’t, so she left without another word.

  ***

  In the main city, Luka led her through the labyrinth of households and shops. With no street wider than two passing carts nor any direct paths to places of importance, Cronus’s convoluted plan had been designed to hinder attacks on the king. If the city’s walls were ever breached or the sole gateway broken, the enemy would have to blunder through the city in a narrow line, making them easy targets for those protecting the capital.

  The streets and alleyways were full of newly arrived Theriomorphs. Clansmen intermingled with locals. Healers, nurses, and a few doctors aided the injured. Other, more community-minded individuals assigned accommodations to the sudden influx of people.

  Lluava was surprised at how quickly everyone was being organized. Food stands were open with the sole purpose of distributing goods to the hungry survivors. In lengthening lines, the clansmen stood patiently awaiting their shares. This was far from natural to them, yet with only occasional bickering, everyone seemed inclined to follow the new order.

  Until Luka bumped into a member of the Razor Back Clan, a tribe known for hot temper. The clansman shoved Luka to the ground. Before Lluava could intervene, Luka rose and, with an apologetic look, handed the man a large apple as a sign of peace. The clansmen snatched the fruit from Luka’s hand and sniffed it, his nose ring brushing against the deep red surface.

  Making several small bows, Luka retreated next to Lluava. Tugging her sleeve, he said, “This way. Hurry.”

  She was dismayed by her friend’s lack of backbone. “You shouldn’t have been the one to apologize.” A pained cry came from behind them. Without stopping, Lluava looked back and saw the clansmen spit out what must have been a tooth, while he stared baffled at the stone in his hand. Snickering, Luka hurried on.

  “How did you do that?” asked Lluava as she moved a bit faster.

  “Make him bite a stone?” Luka smiled slyly at his platinum-blond friend. “Selene’s abilities haven’t been the only ones to grow.” He must have read Lluava’s confused expression. “It’s just an illusion, like a mirage. The more willing one is to believe in the illusion, the more real it becomes. In a desert, a stranded man wants water, so he sees an oasis. That man clearly was hungry. So, it was easy for him to see an apple and not a stone.”

  “I’m hungry,” she said. “Though it was not given to me, I saw an apple, too.”

  Speaking to himself, Luka mused, “And they keep on growing.”

  As they made their way through the city, Lluava’s thoughts were on the Incarn and their abilities. What benefit were these manifesting gifts if they were not meant for actual good? Yena could glimpse past, present, and future events using her gift of scrying, but she could not interact with those in the images she saw. Luka could create small illusions like the one she had just experienced, but how many could he do at one time? On that note, what about Selene? She could certainly get a single male to do her bidding. But un
less she could control multiple people at once, what good was that?

  Luka halted, and Lluava asked, “Why did we stop?”

  In an overly exaggerated fashion, he placed a pale hand on top of her head and turned it to the side. There, standing on a doorstep, was Rosalyn, holding a bucket of odds and ends.

  “Rosalyn?” Lluava questioned, surprised at her own lack of words.

  Rosalyn turned slowly. Strands of raven-black hair had escaped her large bun and fell in front of her blue eyes. Her porcelain cheeks were slightly flushed. Her mouth opened wide.

  “Lluava?” She shouted through the open door. “Talos! Talos, come quickly!”

  The young women hurried toward each other. After a strong hug, Lluava stepped back. “Rosalyn, are you starting to show?”

  Placing one delicate hand over her belly, Rosalyn beamed. “A little.”

  From out of the house came a golden-haired, well-dressed man. Talos said, “Gods be good!” He ran toward Lluava and swung her around. “I cannot believe you made it back! I mean, I can, but still.”

  “Well, here I am.” Lluava grinned. Even her injuries felt momentarily better.

  “Come inside,” Rosalyn said. “Please.”

  Elated, Lluava remarked, “I have so much to tell you both.”

  Then, as Talos and Lluava moved toward the steps, they glanced at Luka.

  “Act like I am not even here,” Luka said as he stepped after them. Then, reading their unspoken conversation, he joked, “No trust? Fine. I will stay outside. After all, it’s such a nice day.” He looked at the cloud-burdened sky. Threatening a bad rain, the atmosphere was tense with pent-up energy. “Waiting…”

  Lluava felt a little badly but knew Luka’s presence would have stifled the conversation. Giving three-way hugs, she and her two friends began to catch each other up on the events of the past few months.