Bastial Steel

by Narro, B. T.

  “I’ve trained with the most powerful psychic in the world. I can feel when you use it on me.”

  “Bastial stars,” Jek muttered to himself.

  “No one else will hear of this.” Lysha’s tone was peremptory. She sat and stuffed some food in her mouth.

  “That’s it?” Jek blurted, now in a high-pitched voice. “Nothing more to say…either of you?”

  Cleve shrugged.

  “Sit down and eat,” Lysha demanded. “We have to get back to riding.”

  They didn’t speak again until it became too dark to ride.

  When the horses were tied and a fire was crackling, Jek sat by it and told them, “There’s something I need to warn you both about.”

  Something about his ominous tone made Cleve want to keep standing, but Lysha had sat, and Jek was waiting for Cleve to join them.

  There were patches of grass throughout the soft dirt. Cleve positioned himself onto one.

  “A few hours after I fall asleep, Sartious Energy is going to burst out of my body, and there’s a good chance I’ll involuntarily make enough noise to wake you up.”

  “That rumor’s true?” Lysha asked.

  “Who told you?” Jek seemed more embarrassed than curious.

  “Guards who were flirting with me. You know how they love to gossip.”

  Jek rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a breath. “Too much Sartious Energy in my body makes it happen. So, if either of you knows of a plant or animal that absorbs SE, tell me now. It’s likely the cure to this.”

  Cleve thought of Steffen. He’d probably know.

  “You’re a mage,” Lysha said. “Why don’t you just push the SE out of your body?”

  “My body reabsorbs it after I fall asleep.”

  “I don’t know of a plant or animal,” Cleve said. “But I know someone who probably does. He’s in Kyrro, though.”

  Jek looked toward the fire, his shoulders slumping. “I wouldn’t leave Goldram.”

  Besides the soft crackle of the fire, all was silent. Jek then turned to show Cleve one eye. “When you go to Kyrro and ask your friend, will you come back and let me know the answer?” Jek smiled to show he was facetious, though his tone sounded serious to Cleve.

  “I can’t promise that. I’m sorry.”

  Jek nodded solemnly. “Of course, I understand.”

  “Let’s rest so we can be up at sunrise,” Lysha suggested.

  “No flirtatious comments?” Jek teased. “Did Cleve’s discovery of your psychic ability manage to finally kill your legendary hubris?”

  Lysha grumbled as she lay flat, soon uttering, “Prideful little runt. Just wait until I find out a secret about you.”

  Cleve woke during the night to a burst of light and the sound of Jek painfully groaning. He watched as Jek twisted with each explosion. Watching the poor mage’s skin being ripped open was enough to give Cleve nightmares of his own.

  Soon, Jek was awake, sitting up and checking his body for wounds. Blood trickled down from his chest.

  “Bastial hell,” Lysha complained. “That’s going to happen every night?”

  “Yes,” Jek stated angrily. “And I’d better not hear you complain about it. It’s much worse for me than it is for you.”

  “Fine, but tomorrow you’re sleeping father from us, at least while we’re in Goldram or Zav where it’s safe. Once we get to the forest, it’s better to stick close while we remain hidden.”

  Jek seemed to be looking for his bag. Cleve found it a few yards from the fire and retrieved it for him, asking, “How long has this been happening?”

  “Years.” Jek opened his bag to remove a cloth and his water pouch. “If you want, I’ll tell you more about it tomorrow.”

  Cleve nodded, letting his thoughts go to Reela as he eased back into slumber.

  Chapter 18

  They rode hard, giving them no chance to talk until they stopped to give their horses a rest.

  The long days of riding might’ve felt dull if the constant urge to hurry wasn’t tugging on Cleve’s shoulders. It felt like a nagging boy wanting him to kneel so he could jump on his back.

  Ten days they had until Jessend’s brother and mother were to be killed—though Cleve suspected the King would send the five thousand Bastial steel swords in exchange for their lives if the rescue party didn’t make it in time, not that he ever would let that lessen his eagerness to save them.

  Jek talked about his “darkness,” as he called it, describing the nightmares that terrorized him with each attack. Cleve had never known himself to be especially empathetic, but Jek’s affliction seemed truly awful. He wondered how Jek could even get to sleep knowing what was about to happen.

  When Jek was done, all the talk about magic had made Cleve think of an important question.

  “Jek, if my sword is made from Bastial steel, what’s to stop mages from shattering it with a stroke of their wand?”

  “I’m not sure,” Jek said, reaching his free hand toward Cleve for the weapon, his other stuffing food in his mouth. “May I?”

  Cleve reluctantly handed it to him. If a mage could break it, he’d rather know now than later.

  Jek studied the weapon with his fingers, tracing the swirls of red and orange on its flat side.

  “I don’t even know if this is pure Bastial Energy,” he said. “I can feel some familiarity, but there’s nothing I can do to manipulate it.” Jek handed the sword back to Cleve.

  He eagerly put it in its sheath. “What does it feel like…this familiarity?”

  Jek scratched his chin, his eyes looking at the cased weapon. “It’s like how we can know that food is a fruit or a meat even if we’ve never had it before. I can tell there’s magic there, something close to BE, but I also know there’s nothing I can do to manipulate it. It would be like asking you to move a mountain using nothing but your breath. You know it would be impossible, even without trying.”

  “I see.”

  A silence followed. Cleve rubbed his eyes, trying to ignore the drowsiness he was beginning to feel. The thought that they wouldn’t be sleeping much in the following days only made it worse. Lysha stood and started walking toward some trees.

  “Going to piss,” she called over her shoulder.

  The moment she was out of earshot, Jek said, “I almost wish we’d been sent on this mission before I came back to see Lisanda.” With his lowered voice, it seemed as if he didn’t want Lysha to overhear.

  “Why is that?” Cleve asked.

  “Because the little time I had with her made it even harder to leave.”

  Cleve wondered if he should tell Jek that he’d seen them in the pantry, but he quickly decided against it.

  “You don’t care for Jessend?” Jek asked.

  “I care, but not in the same way you and Lisanda do for each other.”

  “I’ve heard there’s someone else in Kyrro, Reela is it?”

  Cleve felt his stomach tightening defensively, as if his body were putting up walls internally. He hated people knowing his emotions, always had. Even though he’d gotten to know Jek better in the last few days, he felt nowhere near as comfortable with him as he did with Jessend.

  “I’d rather not talk about it,” Cleve said.

  Lysha surprised them by coming up from behind. “It’s too bad you both have ladies already. We could’ve had some fun.” She folded her legs to sit between them, extending an arm around their shoulders. “There’s no one around here. We’re right in between Goldram and Zav with only the trees watching.”

  A gust of wind picked up, causing branches to look like they were waving.

  “The trees keep all secrets.” She leaned in and kissed Cleve on the cheek.

  He could feel her using psyche again, trying to twist his affection toward her.

  He simply thought of Reela, and Lysha’s unbidden touch was thrown from his heart. Lysha sucked in air as if she’d been struck.

  “You can try all the psyche you want,” Cleve said, taking her arm off
his shoulder. “It’s not going to work.”

  Jek jumped up. “Keep your lips to yourself, psychic.”

  With both arms now in her lap, Lysha’s head lowered. Even without psyche, she was a beautiful woman. She had dark eyes, oval and mysterious. Cleve had never seen her wear something with sleeves, so her toned shoulders and arms were always exposed. She was tall yet compact, without a trace of fat throughout her muscular body.

  “Is this how you use psyche?” Jek asked, his tone accusatory. “Seducing men?”

  Lysha stood and offered a sly grin. “I’ve never needed psyche before.”

  “You know what people say about you, right?” Jek asked. “The names they call you? You must.”

  “Whore, man-thief, heartless bitch, yeah I’ve heard them. It’s for that reason I make even more of an effort to do what I want. Why should men be the only ones to have all the fun?” Her head stretched forward. She looked ready for an argument.

  “I didn’t mean…” Jek sighed. “I would never call you those names. It just strikes me as strange that you don’t seem to care.”

  “Of course I care.” She made a fist. “I care enough to try to make a difference. Women didn’t make the rules, so why are we the only ones who have to follow them? Don’t we deserve the same freedom as you?”

  “Yes, but a woman who comes between two people in love is just as bad as a man doing it,” Jek said softly, speaking each word quite carefully, as if lecturing a child.

  “I don’t do that,” Lysha said, frustration building in her tone. “I’m just having fun with you both to lighten our mood. It’s been working…at least until now when you made me get serious.” She stood and held out her hand to be shaken. “I won’t do it anymore if that’s what you really want.”

  Jek hesitantly walked toward her, reaching out his hand

  She grabbed it and smiled. “If you can beat me in wrestling.”

  “What?” Jek muttered. Lysha grabbed his arm with both hands and zipped around him, taking his arm with her so that his whole body flipped and he landed on his back with a loud grunt.

  Feeling competitive, Cleve stepped toward her. “Me next.”

  She looked him over with a wide smile, showing her teeth. “You can wrestle that tree over there, big guy.” Lysha pointed. “It’s closer to your size.”

  “One hand, then.”

  Lysha rubbed her chin in thought, holding her smile.

  “One minute, Cleve.” Jek got to his feet with a grin of his own. “Try that again, Lysha, now that I’m ready.”

  Lysha folded her arms and pointed at his belt. “Throw your wand away first.”

  Jek shrugged. “Fine.”

  Lysha moved toward him, feigning in and out with wild speed.

  Jek simply stood with a straight back, his arms resting at his sides. “Whenever you’re ready.” He faked a yawn.

  Lysha laughed. “You’re going to regret that.”

  She came at him. He pushed both palms out at her before she reached him, and the massive gust of hot Bastial wind nearly took Cleve off his feet even though he was well behind her.

  Lysha tumbled backward, letting out a guttural scream.

  After coming to a stop, she casually got to her knees and fixed her long fall of hair, putting it behind her shoulders. “Without a wand? Really?” She laughed bitterly. “I can’t say I expected that.”

  She stood and walked toward the horses, Cleve and Jek following. “I think they’ve rested long enough,” Lysha said. “Let’s get back to riding. I’ll beat you both next time they need a break. And no magic!”

  “Fine,” Jek said. “But I’m not stupid enough to wrestle Cleve without it.”

  Nulya whinnied, nudging Cleve with her head. Jek and Lysha burst into laughter.

  “Look, Nulya says she could beat you, Cleve,” Lysha teased.

  Cleve petted her. “I’m sure she could.”

  The land in Zav wasn’t too different from that in Goldram. The hills were sparse, grass came in either small patches or vast fields, and sightings of other people were limited to about one or two a day.

  Lysha had explained that there weren’t any small towns along the route she’d chosen. Because their group was more than two, they were likely to be met with aggression.

  With war starting up again, spies were on the move. When their identities were revealed, they would relocate, meaning trouble often would follow them. People knew this, so they didn’t treat strangers too kindly.

  “That’s what happens when four territories have touching borders,” Cleve remembered Danvell saying. He’d recently learned more about the history of Greenedge from Lysha and Jek. He’d already heard that desmarls had taken over both the north and south, pushing everyone to the center of the continent, but he never would’ve guessed it was the fault of Humans that it had happened.

  Back when people slept in huts, insects were a big annoyance and an even bigger issue for their crops. But there was a simple solution: desmarls. Back then, desmarls were small, not growing bigger than a hand. Just like now, they produced Sartious Energy clouds, and they ate only meat, meaning they didn’t kill the plants around them.

  Most people either lived in the north or the south, and they bred and traded desmarls, making them a form of currency. Over hundreds of years, the desmarls thrived with Human assistance, growing much larger and more quickly, and producing many offspring. But by the time it became clear that Humans were being attacked, it was already too late.

  There were too many of the creatures to fight against then, so the Humans battled their way through the less dense clusters of desmarls to the middle of the continent, leaving the north and south to the beasts. It was how the term “common tongue” came to be. There were several languages before then. But when everyone came together, common tongue took over as the main language.

  “Why didn’t people fight back against the desmarls and clear them out while they were still small?” Cleve had asked after Lysha and Jek finished telling the story.

  “People weren’t powerful enough,” Lysha answered. “They couldn’t fight what they couldn’t see.”

  “How do you fight against desmarls now, then?”

  Cleve looked to Jek, hoping he wasn’t eliciting any traumatizing memories for the mage. Cleve couldn’t tell by Jek’s calm expression.

  “Mages can blow the Sartious Energy out of the way with Bastial wind. Or if they’re Sartious mages like me, there’s plenty we can do. The desmarls produce it, but they can’t manipulate it once it’s in the air. With enough time and caution, we can slowly make our way toward their bodies, which is when the archers finish them with arrows.”

  “That’s how you killed each of them?” Cleve asked.

  Jek seemed lost in thought for a moment. “There was too much chaos for me to really know what we did to kill the first desmarl. I’m still surprised that no one died. But I’ll tell you how we killed our tenth one. By then our strategy was sound. When we reached the edge of the SE cloud, the mages with me used Bastial wind to blow the SE farther ahead until a tentacle was revealed. They tend to sway back and forth, so we had to stay out of range until we saw one.”

  “Why don’t you just shoot the tentacle at that point…or cut it with a sword?” Lysha asked.

  “It’s not so easy. They’re so large, an arrow won’t do much, neither will a fireball. And if a warrior doesn’t cut deep enough with his sword, he’s dead. Even if he does sever the limb, another tentacle could come from somewhere out of the cloud of SE to defend itself, lashing wildly through the air until it feels something to wrap around.”

  “My Bastial stars,” Lysha murmured.

  “It gets worse,” Jek warned her. “Finding the tentacle is the easy part. But in order to kill each beast, we had to expose its body so our team of archers could shoot it. An arrow to the eye is the best way, as their brain is right behind it. We’d find a gap between tentacles where we could move in. By then, the mages could no longer use Bastial wind because th
e desmarls would feel it on their tentacles. So I had to keep the SE out of the way while we continued forward by manipulating the heavy energy. A desmarl can only reach one spot with three of its eight tentacles at once, so the end of the bout always involved archers shooting at the body while everyone else defended against the three tentacles trying to crush or grab us.”

  “That’s a sound strategy?” Lysha blurted.

  “There were a few close incidents,” Jek admitted. “The worst was when we’d misjudge our distance to the tentacles and one would surprise us before we could find the beast’s body. Luckily, a good team of swordsmen, archers, and mages can fend off three tentacles fairly well. And that’s what we were.”

  “How many desmarls are out there?” Cleve asked.

  “In the north?” Jek asked.

  “In all of Greenedge, north and south.”

  Lysha and Jek both shook their heads at him. “No one knows,” Jek answered. “But it’s estimated to be between thirty and fifty thousand.”

  Cleve felt his mouth drop open. “And how long did it take to kill ten of them?”

  “Most days we killed two. Other days, only one.”

  “No one has come up with an efficient way of killing them yet,” Lysha said.

  “There probably isn’t a way,” Jek added. “It’s just a slow process. But if everyone came together to fight them, we could win in a matter of months.”

  But instead, everyone fights for the middle of the continent or wants to leave. Cleve felt guilt gnawing at him. And I’m one of those who wants to leave.

  An idea came to him. “What about psychics? They should be efficient at helping kill desmarls.”

  Jek looked to Lysha. She waved her palms at them. “My Bastial stars, I’m not getting anywhere near those things.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of her,” Cleve said. “I know other psychics who are strong enough to kill one on their own.”

  This time Jek and Lysha’s mouths came open. “Are you serious?” Jek asked.

  Cleve nodded. “How long did you say their tentacles are from their body?”