by Autumn Dawn
Voices roused her enough to open her eyes. A man and a woman were in her shelter. She tried to call for help but could barely move her lips. Thirsty. Her dry throat begged for water.
The woman glanced at her and started. “She’s awake.”
“I don’t see anyone,” the man replied as he helped himself to Dey’s supplies.
“But…”
“If it has a collar it ain’t human. Don’t look again.” He loaded his arms and took the supplies outside; all the rice and her dried meat. Dey was going to starve. There was no way her weak body could provide for itself.
Dey used her eyes to plead with the woman, but she looked away, guilty.
“She did something to earn that collar,” she muttered, as if trying to justify her actions. Eyes averted, she picked up the last sack and followed the man out the door.
They left the vermin’s body. Nobody would eat such a nasty thing.
Five months later….
The Beasts didn’t know she was there. Too busy looting their sacked village, they moved among the smoking ruins, shooting stray children who tried to run from their hiding places. Women screamed in the dusk, pleading for mercy that was finally granted with death’s embrace. Usually only the males were killed and the women and girls loaded, unharmed (if viewing such carnage could be termed that) into transports and taken away. Dey had learned enough of the Beast tongue to know that the women would become Beast wives, and the girls were wards until they were old enough.
This carnage was unheard of.
Dybell, the leader, had just finished with a woman and slain her. Dey watched with a hunter’s detachment as he laughed to his friend, joking about the deed.
Making him her next target.
Dey needed more guns. His looked nice. Of course, he and his companions weren’t just going to hand them over.
She smiled coldly and caressed the butt of her rifle. She couldn’t stop him now and survive, but a patient huntress could extract a great deal of vengeance. Melting away into the night, she took out a perimeter guard on her way past, confiscating his weapons.
The hunters had just become prey. She’d found the way to survive the swamps.
A long time later….
Eyes silver as moonlight watched the Beast camp. A strand of venom-bleached hair escaped Dey’s braid and brushed against her cheek. Impatient fingers brushed it away as she raised her binoculars and studied the Beasts. Long ago she’d smashed the shell transceiver into a thousand bits, and she had no intention of making her presence known. Curiosity drove her, and she had plenty of time to indulge.
Finally she put away her viewers and made her way back to her symbiont cycle. It was near dark, and she had some trading to do.
Her fingers brushed against her neck as she swept her silver braid over her shoulder, and she smiled. The cursed collar was long gone. She’d nearly killed herself when she’d shot it off, but it had been worth the pain, and her symbiont had healed it.
Ever since she’d been robbed and left for dead, Dey had accepted that she was completely alone. She survived because she was strong. The men in this war-torn part of the swamps were little better than animals, and the women who outnumbered them were grim. Hopeless. The ones she traded with now had formed a community in the swamps. There were a few men, but most had died in the wars. Now the survivors fought the swamp, and in these untamed reaches it was battle enough.
The patrol she saw didn’t really bother her. Sometimes the guilty conquerors brought the women and children food and supplies. They always behaved themselves; Dybell’s decimated patrol had been an aberration. Dey remembered what Keg had told her about the shortage of women among the Beasts. Maybe these were hoping to sweeten up some of the younger woman and carry them off for wives.
Thoughts of Keg made her eyes narrow. Had she been less trusting, he’d never have had the chance to trap them the way he had. Even knowing it was his job, that they’d been warned; that Luna had been the one at fault didn’t ease her distrust and anger for him. Her sentence had been up months ago, but she’d stayed away because of him. Part of her wondered what had become of Luna, but not enough to go back. Likely they thought her dead. Good. It was better that way.
Kegtaar stood in the center of the human camp, dressed in full battle armor. His helmet was retracted, as were the helmets of his three friends and sub commanders, but it didn’t help much. Even after they saw that Beasts looked like their men, the women still held back. “We need to work together if our races are to survive.”
“You just want women,” one woman spat. Middle aged and wild haired, Megin was the most difficult and bitter of all.
The others murmured and stirred uneasily. One woman held her baby in her arms and tried to hush his wails while two young children peeked from behind her ragged skirt.
As if we might attack at any minute, Kegtaar thought. His jaw clenched, but he forced himself to remain mild. It had only been a year since the war had ended. These women had lost loved ones to battle. No matter how much their races needed each other, this wasn’t going to be easy.
Especially if he had to force the issue. The Beasts needed wives, and his superiors had determined to get them however they could. It was the duty of commanders like Kegtaar to woo them a bit, first. No sense in creating more alarm than need be. Besides, they did not want to leave any frightened children hiding in the woods when they collected the women. Part of their mission was to get to know the population of the village to ensure that every valuable female was rounded up. The Beast women might be able to produce daughters now, thanks to the special plants on their recaptured territory, but it would be a long time until those daughters grew up.
Not every man was willing to wait.
“If we’d wanted to harm you it would have happened already,” Ri-chan, his second, pointed out. “Kegtaar-Ra has brought you nothing but good.”
“After he slaughtered our men!” Megin shouted.
Kegtaar shot him a warning look and raised his hand against the murmur. He didn’t need this. It was hard enough making the woman accept their gifts of food and supplies. Had they not been desperate he was sure the women would have thrown them in his face, but they had children to think of. Most of them were from city-towns and had no skills to help them fend for themselves out here. All he wanted to do was help both their peoples.
Before he could say anything soothing, a woman’s mocking laughter broke through the tension. As one the crowd turned to see who found humor in such a brittle situation.
Kegtaar’s first shock was the symbiont cycle. All the great symbionts in this part of the swamp had been destroyed in the war. The only ones left were a long way away, in a settlement he hadn’t seen in two years. The second was the woman. Silver, even white hair was common among his people, but he’d yet to see the color on a human. She was armed. A powerful rifle was cradled in her arms as she reclined on her bike, one black leather-clad leg braced on the ground and one on her seat. Dark glasses, a costly luxury in these stark times, hid the color of her eyes, but her cynical, amused expression spoke her thoughts.
When she spoke his heart nearly stopped. It was the voice from his dreams, smoky and vibrant with maturity.
“Well, well. Still trying to get laid, Keg?” She slung the rifle strap over her handlebars and sauntered over to him as boldly as an old lover.
“I thought you were dead,” he whispered.
“Sorry to disappoint you.” When she saw his eyes go to her throat, she smiled. “Shot it off. Had no need to go back then.”
Horror made him stiffen. “You could have been killed!”
No humor shown in her smile. “I was already dead.”
“The hair?”
“Rat venom.”
“Your rifle?”
She leaned forward a fraction and said mockingly, “It’s amazing what a man will give you for a little of your time.” It was a lie, for she’d wanted to hurt him, but it didn’t give her the satisfaction she’d hoped.
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His face closed. “So that’s what you’ve become.”
As always, the lie choked her until she added lightly, “Actually, I stole it from a corpse. I haven’t seen anything in this swamp worthy of my ‘time’.” Her gaze raked over him insultingly.
She shifted her weight to one foot and smirked. “Did I hear you correctly? You want these women to just give up their freedom and bed down with the enemy as if you haven’t just fought a bloody war?”
His words sounded as thought they eased between two grinding stones. “It’s the only way to survive.”
“Ah, to depend on you. What an appalling idea.”
Twin fires blazed in his eyes. “And you have a better plan?”
“The only way to survive is to count on what’s in here.” She made a fist over her heart. “The swamps taught me that.” She turned her back on him, started to stride away.
His hand on her arm stopped her.
One silver brow rose as she glanced at it. “I thought you were here to teach these women about trust? Getting close and heavy with me seems a brilliant way to do it, then?”
He let her go, and she sauntered off without a backward glance.
Kegtaar’s gaze dropped to the unconscious sway of her backside. It had been a long time since a woman had looked at him without fear or awe. She treated him like a man, and he couldn’t help but respond like one. Dey might have won this round, but there would be another.
“Wait!” a woman called as Dey slung one leg over the seat of her bike. Out of the corner of her eye Dey recognized the abrasive Megin. Inwardly, she sighed. It couldn’t have gone better with Keg, and she was in no mood to talk. Her body symbiont connected with the large one, prepared to take off.
“Come to dinner tonight. Please,” she added when Dey looked like she’d refuse.
“Why?” No one here had ever made her feel welcome. They took one look at her hideous hair and they treated her like a half-blood pariah. Megin had been as outspoken as anyone, once even spitting on the ground Dey walked on.
“Because we do need help. No one wants to accept Beast charity, but none of us can hunt. We can barely survive here. You bring meat every time you come. You know how to beat the swamps. We need you.”
“I’m not a leader.”
“We don’t need a leader. We need someone to teach us. Come tonight.”
“I’ll think about it.”
The drive home was a blur, though by habit she was careful to avoid being followed. The drafty old temple wasn’t the height of comfort, but it boasted a roof and four intact walls. One thing about the ziggurat structures¾they certainly stood the test of time. She could appreciate that.
Sadly, this moldering old pile had guarded no treasures, but the jungle overgrowth protected her from curious eyes. Had she not practically fallen through the secret door, she wouldn’t even have found it, so she was fairly certain she would remain undiscovered there.
A touch on the pitted stonewall opened a hatch, which she and her symbiont cycle entered. The weighed door made only a slight scraping noise as it closed behind her.
Afternoon light poured through the high window slits, illuminating the mosaic floor. Geometric cuts of multicolored stone swirled in patterns, the joining undetectable by touch on the highly polished surface. One or two of the ancient solar lamps still worked, providing light throughout the lonely nights, but not enough to attract unwanted attention.
Lonely. She dropped her saddlebags to the floor in the corner and withdrew some savory rolls and rounds of bread, trying not to think too much. The cloth-wrapped bread went in a small wooden box. The roll filled her mouth, but did nothing to stop the flow of her thoughts.
Yes, she was lonely. So what? She’d been lonely a long time. Megin’s offer of dinner wasn’t going to change that. Besides, she might see Keg there.
A surge of isolation so strong it made her chest constrict struck her. She would not think about Keg.
Her hammock swayed as she sat in it, then swished as she climbed back out. Pacing helped channel her nervous energy.
She’d seen Keg today.
Jaw clenched, she swore she wouldn’t go back to that village. The symbiont could carry her great distances, easily to another settlement. She’d never have to see him again.
Silent minutes ticked by. She closed her eyes and listened to the faint calls of chattering birds. Suddenly this haven she’d found felt more like a tomb than a shelter.
But she was not going to Megin’s that night.
After much consideration, Dey chose to go to dinner. It had nothing to do with whom she might or might not see. She was tired of her own cooking. If the woman wanted the work of preparing a meal for Dey, then fine.
There were Beasts in the shadows around the settlement. Dey circled silently in the night, knowing they knew she was there, testing the waters. They did not react to her presence.
She raised a brow. Hm. So Keg was guarding his prizes in the village. Did the women know?
First hand experience told her it was excruciatingly difficult to avoid a Beast patrol once it gave chase. They had tracking equipment, experience and sheer nerve on their side. Dey had a fast bike and knowledge of the swamps. Not much of an advantage.
She went in anyway.
Megin opened the door wide at her knock and exclaimed over the bristled fawn carcass Dey had brought as if it were gold. “It’s been so long since we had meat, I’ve forgotten what it tastes like!”
Embarrassed, aware of the eyes in the night, Dey tried distraction. “These are for your children.” She handed the eldest girl, a child of perhaps twelve, a small bladder containing wrinkled brown balls, a delicacy known as sweet nuts. She often ground them together with seeds to make sweet flour. “Try it. It’s like candy,” Dey assured the polite, but doubtful looking girl.
Reluctantly, with the rapt attention of her younger brother, the girl took a tiny bite. “It’s good!” she exclaimed in surprise, and her brother quickly crowded in to claim his share.
“Where do you find all these things?” Megin asked as she ushered Dey to a rickety chair.
“The swamp is full of things to eat. Most of the time it’s harder not to become dinner than it is to find it.”
Megin’s cooking was nothing to brag about, but Dey ate it without complaint. She’d had worse. Besides, the shabby interior of the tiny hut told her that it was probably the best Megin had.
“So when can you start to teach us?” Megin asked toward the end of the meal. “I’ve spoken to the others and they’ve agreed to make it worth your while. We’ll feed and house you.”
Dey almost pointed out that she fed and housed herself quite well, but bit her tongue as she recalled how these people would hate charity. Instead she raised another issue. “Do you know that the Beasts guard you at night?”
Megin froze. Her voice came out a fearful waver. “They’re out there?”
“Yes.”
Shoulders hunched, Megin looked away. “They want to make slaves of us.”
“If that was so, you would be,” Dey echoed Keg’s friend’s words. “You should consider what it is they do want. I’ve been all over these swamps. There aren’t a lot of human men left.”
Rage twisted Megin’s face into a snarl. “The Beasts killed them!”
Not about to get into the politics of it, Dey looked at her steadily. “Some of the women will choose to go with them. Quite a lot, considering what they have to offer. What I can teach you will be a small buffer against that. The handful of you that will be left behind will be lucky to last the year.”
“You’re on their side!” Megin shot to her feet, her posture saying she’d love to attack Dey.
Dey rose too, ready for anything Megin might try. Warning in her eyes, she said, “It’s time you accepted some grim truths, Megin. Your way of life is over. I can’t change that. Someday soon they’re going to take you all away.”
“Why did you come here, then, if you thought that? Aren’t you a
fraid they might take you, too?” Megin flung at her, tears of fury in her eyes.
Dey shrugged. “My days are numbered, anyway. You have no idea how hard it is not to become breakfast out there. I might be well fed, but so are the other predators in the swamp. It’s just a matter of time before I run into something I can’t outsmart or outrun. If the Beasts do take you, they’ll be doing you a favor.”
“Get out!” Megin shrieked, her face red with fury. “Get out!”
I guess this means dinner’s over, Dey thought grimly. Careful not to turn her back on her screaming hostess, she edged out the door.
The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she left the hut. One hand fell to the butt of her gun. Danger.
“Hello, Dey.” Keg stepped out from the shadows, still dressed in armor.
“That must chafe,” she said in annoyance. Her grip loosened on the gun as she slowly withdrew her hand.
“The armor?”
“No, your shorts,” she snapped. She mounted her bike, glad for the tendrils, which immediately webbed around her legs, securing her to the symbiont.
Much to her shock, he mounted behind her.
“Get off!”
“We need to talk.”
“Concerning?”
“Us.”
“There is no us.”
“There should be.”
She growled. “I’m not discussing anything here. How many men do you have in the shadows, listening?”