by Paul Kidd
Kotaru contemptuously turned away. The little girl cringed as Kotaru knelt to take her hand; he took her safely in his arms and bore her off into the forest
The alpine tribes virtually knew no violent crime. Now Kotaru found himself involved in theft, destruction and anger. He swallowed hard, trying to hide from the horror that he felt, then squatted down to tenderly stroke the weeping girl.
“Are you alright girlie?”
She was skinny as an insect, with silver fur, silver hair and pearl grey wings. The girl nodded, staring at him in fright until Kotaru stripped away his facemask and dropped his helmet to the ground.
“Sssssh, it’s alright now. No one’s going to hurt you anymore.”
She wept against his chest, her whole body quivering in shock. Kotaru rocked her gently back and forth, murmured softly in her ear. Finally he drew away, holding the tearful child at arms length.
“Alright now, what’s your name, eh?”
The child looked back at him with eerie silver eyes. She seemed to be remembering his face in every detail.
“Kï-Kïtashii. My name’s Kïtashii.”
Kotaru smiled his fine lop-sided smile.
“Aaaaah, that’s a fine name, now so it is! A brave name, but I’ll not have you fighting any more hunters.”
The girl combed aside her long white hair. Kotaru gently wiped her skinny cheeks and brushed away her tears.
“That’s better now! That’s my bonny lass. Now Kïtashii, do you know somewhere to hide?”
His answer came as a wide-eyed nod.
“Go quickly then; hide there and be quiet. T’will all be over soon.”
The girl backed away, her face still numb with shock, then suddenly she spread her wings and darted through the brush.
Kotaru sighed and stood; the incident had left a vile taste in his mouth. He dusted off his hands and turned to face the Katakanii village…
…Just as a spear impaled itself through a sapling by Kotaru’s head.
The hunter stared, then frantically dove aside as a second spear ripped past his fur. It rammed through a treefern to hang thrumming in mid air.
Two nightmarish creatures exploded through the trees - demons with sharp black bodies and heads like shrieking skulls. They caught the scent and screamed in hunger for their prey. Kotaru fled through the trees, fronds ripping at his wings; he dove through a gully and plunged into a dripping world of ferns.
The demons lost sight of their victim and clattered to a halt. Mad eyes stared down into the green; Kotaru flattened himself against a tree and prayed as he had never prayed before. He slipped down into the ferns and tried to glide for deeper cover.
They sensed the flaring of his aura; with a demented scream of fury the demons were on his trail, narrow female bodies twisting through the air. Kotaru span and hurtled his spear, deliberately aiming to drive the creatures back. The demons ducked, and Kotaru took his chance to speed off through the ferns.
A spear ripped out towards Kotaru’s back, and a Ka inside the weapon gibbered for his blood. Kotaru desperately tried to warp the ïsha in its path, but the spirit flicked his bolt away. Kotaru rolled, and the spear swerved and stabbed into his wing. With a hideous crash the hunter slammed into the ground.
“Kaaaaah!”
Somewhere in the darkness, demons howled for blood. Kotaru sobbed and desperately dragged himself to cover, fangs clenched against a scream of pain.
Suddenly the open air yawned before him. He had scrabbled to the edge of a precipice, and a cliff plunged a hundred spans below him towards a tangled mass of rocks.
“Kaaaaah!”
Kotaru tumbled across the brink, flailing out in panic until ïsha bit and caught beneath his wings. With a sickening crash Kotaru plunged down through a stand of wattle trees. Reeling with triumph, the hunter crawled into the shade.
Lost them! Lost them at last!
“Kaaaaaaah!”
Kotaru gave a croak of horror, then clawed back to his feet as the shriek of the hunters echoed through the air. He staggered deeper down into the gully with blood dripping thickly from his wounds.
Somewhere in the dark behind him, a demon screamed in hate.
Shadarii climbed from her bath as the Ka fluttered in warning around her. The creature swirled, tugging Shadarii down into hiding. With no idea why she did so, Shadarii ran to do as she was bid, a thrill of fear rippling through her heart.
ïsha flashed as Shadarii dried her naked fur and brought her clothes whipping up around herself and fastened into place. She made to hide amongst the rocks, but the Ka pushed her onwards towards a bare, blank stretch of cliff.
The Ka’s presence began to fade as it reached the limits of its domain. Shadarii stroked it with her mind and bid it hurry back where it belonged, and the spirit reluctantly withdrew, speeding back towards the waterfall.
Lizards scattered as Sharadrii crouched perched above a sharp, deep gully. Without the slightest fear, she spread her wings and leapt far out into the air. She landed by the cliff base fifty spans below, running swiftly along beside the rock and hunting for the promised hiding place.
Found it!
A low cave had been hidden by the overhang. Shadarii folded back her wings and scrabbled swiftly into cover, then pressed back against the old, cool rock and stared out across the gorge. The cliff made a superb refuge; only someone crawling on the ground could guess the hiding place was there.
The girl’s breathing rasped in the sudden quiet. Frightened eyes searched the outside world, and suddenly Shadarii held quite still.
Spirits scattered off into hiding, making the girl freeze and stare intently off along the gorge. Something moved amongst the rocks; a broken, staggering thing that slammed against the stones. It wove drunkenly, stumbling through the bush to fall sprawling on the ground.
It was a man - a beautiful, bright eyed stranger with fur as grey as smoke. He reeled and fought for breath, clutching at the rocks with long artistic hands while an injured wing flapped in bloody ruin at his back. The ïsha left a trail of pain behind him, swirling and twisting like blood spilling off into a stream.
“Kaaaaaaah!”
A deadly scream ripped through the air; the stranger gave a croak of panic and fell, slamming hard against a rock
Without knowing why, Shadarii sprang out from her hiding place to drag the stranger into safety. The man jerked in shock, staring in amazement at her face. Shadarii swiftly hauled him beneath the cliff and clutched his body hard against her breast. She made a smoothing motion with her hand across the cave mouth, and ïsha rippled into sudden stillness; in seconds she had masked the cave, and the stranger’s ïsha trail had gone.
“Kaaaaaaah!”
Black demon shapes exploded from the trees, spearpoints thirsting in their hunt for prey. Shadarii gasped as a wild silhouette framed itself against the sky.
Zhukora! It could only be Zhukora. The lean, feral shap glittered like a wasp as he skull mask searched the rocks for signs of her bleeding prey.
They wanted the stranger; to-to kill him! Shadarii clutched her trembling companion, and for the first time Shadarii looked up at her sister and felt the twist of hate.
Blood spilled hot against Shadarii’s side. She daren’t heal the stranger’s wounds; the ïsha flare would be seen. The girl’s sharp eyes searched their little refuge, swiftly finding the gnarled root of a redgum tree. She stripped the bark and gnawed it between her fangs, then pressed the stinging poultice up against the stranger’s wound. Shadarii placed a finger on his lips, her eyes pleading with him to stay silent.
The demon shapes drew nearer, and Shadarii pressed herself back against the cave. The stranger’s heart hammered as Zhukora’s voice drifted from above.
“He’s down there! I can feel him!”
“We’ll find him.” Daimïru’s voice; Zhukora’s devoted acolyte. “The weakling’s almost spent.”
Cruel wings clattered overhead while black armour shone like the bones of rotting carrion. Zhukor
a’s left wing faltered; she staggered to one side, and a hiss of hate escaped from her jaws.
“Kill him. No games with council! We hand the fools a corpse!”
“Will the council stand for it?”
“Who cares? I want him dead.”
Shadarii stared out at the ground in shock. The stranger’s blood trail glittered in the sun, covered by a shield of glittering flies.
Oh sweet Mother! If Zhukora sees…
“How’s the wing?”
Daimïru’s voice sounded anxious; Zhukora resented the very question.
“It’s alright! It’s nothing!
“You’re hurt. Rest. I’ll take him.”
“No! He’s mine!” Zhukora’s mask jerked in fury. “I want him! He’s mine.”
“Zhukora…”
“Leave me alone! There’s nothing wrong!”
“You’ll damage it more!” Daimïru’s voice cracked with anxiety. “Your wing is bleeding.”
“Leave it be!”
The evil figure dipped ever lower. Shadarii flicked her eyes between her sister and the gleaming blood. Rain! If she came so much as one span closer…
Daimïru snorted, staring down into the gully.
“They haven’t flushed him. He’s circled round behind us.”
“No, he’s down there. Get down to ground, we’ll see if we can find his trail.”
No!
Shadarii suddenly slashed out with her mind, ripping the ïsha from beneath her sister’s injured wing. Zhukora screamed and tumbled from the air, slamming hard against a ridge of rock. Daimïru gave a cry and shot to Zhukora’s side; with a piercing whistle, she called in the hunt.
“Leave me alone! I can fly! I can still fly!”
Zhukora raged and staggered, trying to fight away Daimïru’s arms. The other girl grimly held Zhukora on the ground, hunching down beneath a rain of hysterical abuse. Two more Skull-Wings whirled up out of the rocks and raced to Daimïru’s aid.
Zhukora bucked insanely in their grasp.
“I can fly! You bastards, I can fly! He’s down there! Kill him! Kill him!”
She lunged and kicked, slamming Daimïru back against a stone. Zhukora’s wing hung crushed and broken, and the pain must have been incredible; Wind only knew how she kept standing. Daimïru staggered to her feet as the other hunters grabbed Zhukora’s arms.
“C-calm her down. Get her out of here before she rips the muscle more. Get her to the village.”
Zhukora howled in fury, lunging for Daimïru’s throat.
“You bitch! I’ll get you for this! I can still fly! Let me go, I can still fly!”
The hunters dragged Zhukora backwards. Daimïru ripped off her mask and wiped her face, tears trembling in her eyes.
“Get her out of here! Quickly!”
The Skull-Wings bore their leader back towards the village. Daimïru bent to collect Zhukora’s fallen weapons, her hands shaking; Shadarii held her breath and closed her eyes, feeling Daimïru’s gaze sear across the cave.
The silence stretched as Shadarii held the stranger in her arms. His breath rasped, her pulse pounded like a drum. With a sudden clatter of retreating wings, Daimïru made her way back towards the village. The gulley seemed to echo to the sudden sense of silence.
The stranger stirred against Shadarii’s side then turned to stare up at his deliverer, his face shining with disbelief.
Shadarii stared into a pair of fine brown eyes. It felt like falling down into an endless well…
The stranger glowed firm and solid in her arms. His mouth seemed made for laughter and his eyes for watching dreams. Shadarii basked within the pure warmth of the stranger’s face.
The stranger made to speak, but Shadarii pressed her finger to her lips. She closed her eyes, her ïsha spilling down to fold him in a haze of peace, and the stranger gasped as energy poured through him like a fire. His bleeding ceased. The stranger blinked, his marvelling hands reaching out to touch his healed wounds. He looked up in astonishment, and stared into Shadarii’s gaze.
They both knew that he should go before Zhukora’s men returned. Even so he stayed. He floated in Shadarii’s spell, sharing the gentle touch of magic.
The stranger lifted up his face and spoke; his voice had a gorgeous accent that floated like a song.
“I thank you for my life, my lady.”
Shadarii felt her heart take wing. The man reached out to take her hand within his own. It was time to go - he must! And yet…
Shadarii leaned towards him, drawn helplessly into his warmth. The stranger moved as though within a dream; gently, softly, he reached out to take her chin. Shadarii felt her eyes close tight as her soul tingled to his touch. ïsha flared around them as his lips softly brushed her own.
She trembled as he kissed her, leaning helplessly into the ecstasy of his touch. Her whole world span as the stranger nestled in her arms.
After an endless age they drew apart. Reluctantly the stranger backed away, his eyes locked adoringly upon her face. Shadarii let his fingers trail slowly free. Suddenly he turned and ran; brown wings spread as he soared into the open sky.
Long minutes later, Shadarii rose. It seemed almost as though the stranger had never been; she felt only the warmth of him upon her lips, the lingering feel of him against her fur. Shadarii touched her mouth and turned to gaze into the clouds.
No dream; he had been real! A kiss - a real kiss! - and brown eyes to shine inside her dreams! Shadarii hugged her arms about her sides and felt a glorious blaze of life.
“Father!”
The silent crowds of villagers were roughly pushed aside as Zhukora fought towards the council. Two of her skull-masked hunters followed on her tail.
“Father!”
The crowd melted before her. Zhukora saw the council seated calmly on their mats and tore a path towards them.
“Father, we gave chase! We’ve wounded one. If we can get fresh hunters on the trail…”
Nochorku-Zha raised his hand to silence her, never once glancing in his daughter’s direction. His attention remained wholly fixed upon another hunter.
Prakucha!
Zhukora’s ears went flat. The girl ignored the swaggering hunter and knelt before her father. Her injured wing hung limp, conspicuously incapable of sweeping out in formal homage.
“Father! Father listen!”
The council scowled in disapproval, pointedly ignoring her as Prakucha gave his report. He coughed politely and smoothed back his whiskers with one hand.
“In any case honoured ones, there is small damage done. A house door broken, a few dried fish taken. My hunters have seen the raiders off the premises…”
“Your hunters?” Zhukora stared incredulously. “You puking offspring of a slug! You cowered in the ferns while real warriors fought your battles for you!”
“Daughter!”
“But Father, he lies! He lies! We saw them off! My hunting group and I have been sweeping through the river gullys for an hour. We found a straggler and wounded him. If we can get fresh hunters on his trail we might still run the thief to ground!” She looked around in anguish. “Why won’t anyone help me?”
“Zhukora, enough! You shame our champion with your stupid prattle.”
Prakucha merely shook his head and smiled indulgently.
“Honoured elders, this poor girl is clearly wounded and hysterical. I take no offence. Perhaps it would be best to simply let her have her say…”
Zhukora gave a scream of anger, then whirled and smashed her armoured fist against the ground.
“Don’t you dare patronise me! Why if you had half the balls of a real man I’d…”
Nochorku-Zha hurtled out his hand.
“Zhukora, this has gone far enough. Have you forgotten the Jiteng game? Have you no interest even in hearing of the final score?”
“What?” Zhukora wiped her face; she simply didn’t understand. The world was going mad. “Father, it doesn’t matter!”
“Why of course it matters! By
leaving the field, you have lost the game. Prakucha and his Splendid Orchids have proved their skills once again.”
The girl’s brain hammered with a raging headache. The smoke of burning houses still hung above the trees, and yet the council chatted amiably about some foolish game!
Her father shook his head in wonder.
“Zhukora, have you no congratulations to offer the winning captain of the game?”
Zhukora stared at the elders, then pressed a hand against her skull as a throbbing headache raged inside her head.
“It doesn’t matter! Can no one see? Our village lies in ruins! Our homes are violated, families will go hungry, and still you-you waffle on about some stupid, futile game!”
Young hunters stirred and muttered in agreement with Zhukora’s words. Old Counselor Fotoki glared at the girl across his folded arms.
“One of the hardest lessons we must learn in youth is perserverance. The rules of jiteng are quite clear; any player who leaves the field forfeits their right to play.”
Zhukora wept in sheer frustration.
“Rules! Does nothing matter but your stupid, endless rules?”
“You must learn the value of submission. Rules embody a perfect, ordered harmony. The game should teach you…”
Zhukora hurtled her helmet to the ground.
“The game doesn’t matter! We have been robbed! Homes burned, goods destroyed…”
Fotoki smugly settled in his seat.