by Ryan Muree
With the small claws she had, she raced toward the sound. “Rowec?” she called.
“Nida? Nida!”
She passed through a second patch of lianju trees and their overripe fruit, and found Rowec hanging upside down by his feet over a king drosera—an enormous animal-eating plant. Purple vines around his feet, he dangled over the gorgeous five-petal flower.
She slowly approached. If she didn’t get him out, he’d be dead in seconds. “Rowec, don’t move,” she whispered.
He panted and crossed his arms. “If I could move, I would.”
“Does your leg hurt where it has you?” she asked.
He glanced up toward his feet and shook his head. “It did, but it doesn’t now.”
Not good . The plant had already started the process of ingesting him. The first step was paralyzing him through the vines holding him up. “Okay, Rowec, don’t freak out, but I’m going to have to get you down.”
He began to struggle with the vine. “Right, I’ve tried, but—”
“No, no. Don’t move.”
“It’s just these vines. If I could cut them, I’d be free.”
She inched closer, watching the petals. It had disguised its maw well. To be so huge, this one was very old. “They’re not vines. Those are its fingers,” she whispered.
“Fingers?” He shot a glance to his feet again and bounced as he fought it.
“Stop, Rowec.”
“Its fingers? It has fingers?” he shouted, straining harder and bobbing up and down.
“Rowec—”
“My leg. I can’t feel my leg. Nida, get me down! Nida, kill it or something!”
“No! We don’t kill like that—”
“How are you going to get me down, then? How do you walk into a jungle without something to slaughter or maim with?”
She lifted an eyebrow and took a step closer. “Really? You’re going to ask me that? You have no weapons either. You don’t even have shoes.”
“Your sisters shouldn’t be so cruel.”
“I was trying to get you a better room!”
He bent up toward his feet and tried pulling at the drosera’s fingers while she edged closer.
Sometimes it was possible to coax the two sepals on either side to close over the petals. The action would make the plant think it’s being harmed, and in its panic, curl its fingers to its side for protection. It might break a few of Rowec’s bones when it dropped him, but it was better than death. She just had to get close enough.
“Hold on, Raz. Don’t move,” he said to his pocket, then refocused on the drosera. “W-w-w-what’s that?” he breathed.
The mouth in the center had begun to open. Any second it would drop him in, and he’d be dissolved quickly.
“Don’t move,” she whispered. “Don’t make a sound. When I grab the sepals, and the fingers pull back, you’re going to fall—”
“Nida.”
“When you fall, you’ll be a little hurt, but at least you won’t die.” She slid behind the king drosera and readied her hands. “Ready?”
The plant’s mouth was wide, exposing its bowl of acid and letting the gas plume up.
A drop of Rowec’s sweat fell into the mouth. It sizzled. “Nida, this thing could eat four of me at one time. Don’t mess this up.”
“Don’t break promises and run into the wrong side of a jungle next time.”
“Then don’t capture people for small crimes!”
“Then don’t steal!” Her eyes were as wide as his.
After a pause, he whined. “Okay, I’m sorry. We won’t steal from your temple ever again. I won’t break my promise again. Please, save me.”
She smiled and started lifting the sepals. Of course, she’d save him, but it was good to know—
The vines let go, and he screamed as he fell. He grabbed on to a petal with both arms. Thick and strong enough to hold him, it still bent towards the mouth under his weight.
“Hurry, Nida. Get me out!” He was still trying to pull himself up the wilting petal. “Something’s burning!” he screamed.
She ran for a lianju leaf and tore off its edges until the stem made a sharp point. “Take my hand!”
Just as his hand grasped hers, she pierced the stem through the petal.
The king drosera curled in on itself, writhing and hissing, and Rowec tumbled safely to the ground toward her.
She pulled him to a safer distance and rolled him to his back. “Are you okay?”
“My leg is… My knee—” He cried out and grabbed his right knee cap. His leg had been badly burned, and his foot had been nearly singed away.
She tried to pull him up. “I need to get you back to—”
He screamed again.
“You can’t make that much noise. Other things in the jungle will hear us.”
The vine’s paralysis had made it so he wouldn’t recognize when his body was being dissolved. It must have been wearing off.
He grunted and moaned instead, but there was no moving him. She didn’t have the strength to carry him, and he’d never make it back like this. His little white rodent had crawled out of its pocket to nuzzle his neck.
There was only one choice.
As soon as she’d heal him, he’d leave. There would be no reason to stay. She’d be useless, and he’d be free. But he’d die in this jungle otherwise.
She placed her hand on his knee.
He winced and groaned, his facial muscles and clenched jaw giving away the struggle of his pain. The pink-bellied kurimolle licked Rowec’s cheek.
“Remember, I’m a Life Weaver, Rowec. I’ll fix this.”
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and filled him with her Vigor. Letting it flow down his burnt leg, she envisioned the Vigor weaving along the burnt tissues and replacing gaps in his skin. Vigor of bright light within her slipped out and into him, removing all pain, all wounds.
Her head felt light, yet too heavy to hold up. It was already too much for her. She was too weak. Her sisters were so much better at Life Weaving than she was. Yet another failure she had adopted from their human side, and yet she was risking her life to save one.
He gasped and stopped straining.
She peeked out of one eye. The wound was almost repaired. Nearly there. She needed to give more.
Pushing as much of her Vigor into him as she could, her hands trembled. She was running out. She wouldn’t be able to—
“Nida?”
Her heart slowed, and she faltered.
He sat up and reached for her. “Nida, what’s wrong?”
She crumpled over onto the grass as a blinding white light radiated behind her eyelids.
CHAPTER 6
Rowec swallowed, trying to even out his breathing.
His leg… He’d nearly lost his leg. It had practically been burned away, and she’d healed it. She…
Nida lay cradled in his arms. Long eyelashes closed, the few teal scales on her temples and by her ears sparkled in the sheen of sweat across her face. But her face was paling. Her lips were drying out.
No matter what he’d tried, she wouldn’t respond. He’d pressed his head to her chest, his fingers to her neck, there was something—maybe? He couldn’t tell if her heart was still beating. Did Tialans even have hearts? He shook his head. Of course they do.
He was running out of time. He couldn’t leave her there after she had just saved him, but where would he take her?
Back to his village was an excellent option. He’d have his freedom, he’d be back with Maur, his people, but she…
Her lips fell open. She was in trouble.
Damn .
His healers wouldn’t know how to fix her, and her sisters were Life Weavers, for crying out loud. They were Nida’s best chance at surviving, but it would be turning himself in. He’d be a prisoner again, or worse, considering his escape attempt.
He sighed.
The choice wasn’t hard.
“Let’s go, Raz.” The kurimolle trilled before slipping
into his pocket.
He lifted her up and began hurrying back toward the temple, occasionally checking his carved marks on the trees for the right direction.
Nida had been willing to help him, and he had chosen to be reckless. There were more diplomatic ways of getting his freedom back than arguing with Nida, slamming her sister into a wall, and running away. He might not have agreed with the severity of his punishment, but his brother had stolen from them. And he had stupidly taken Maur’s place.
He knew better. He had raided other tribes before the peace time. He’d even taken prisoners. Had they acted as he had, he would’ve laughed at their release request and told them to forget about getting within ten feet of the chief to discuss freedom.
A few years earlier, he would have slaughtered the thief on sight had it been his tribe’s food.
He should have stayed focused on meeting the queen instead of acting out. Nida hadn’t given him reason to doubt her, and he had been a fool to play into the other beast’s manipulation.
Finally, an orange glow hovered just above the trees.
“Almost there, Nida,” he panted. “I’ll get you back.”
Rather light and pliable, she was easy to carry. Her hands and arms were folded neatly against her chest, and her legs draped over his arm. A tiny part of him had been afraid she’d have a tail he’d have to worry about, but he’d felt none when he’d lifted her.
Her eyebrows had been drawn up in effort or concern, maybe, but she had saved him. Yes, she had come to retrieve their prisoner, but she didn’t have to save his leg. She’d even acted like she’d known she would collapse after healing him. Perhaps she’d even known he could’ve run off after and left her there, and she’d done it anyway.
The golden brick of the temple reflected the torchlight in an orange haze. He sprinted into the clearing to the large gold doors and climbed the stairs.
Where were the guards? He’d expected to be swarmed by now, tackled and strung up in chains. But no one was anywhere.
He braced himself against one door and pushed as hard as he could until it slowly creaked open.
Nothing. The inside hall was empty, the corridors silent.
Where was everyone?
He adjusted Nida in his arms and headed down the hallway with no idea of where to take her. Screaming for help seemed like a really stupid idea.
But if Nida—
A gasp came from behind.
He spun to find a creature with violet scales and matching eyes and a hand to her mouth, staring at him. One of Nida’s sisters. At least she wasn’t the blue one—Drathella, was it?
He approached. “Can you help me? Nida healed me, and she—”
Nida’s sister ran up and smoothed back Nida’s hair. “This way. Come on.” She tugged at his arm, leading him through the halls.
After a million turns and a couple flights of stairs, they entered a room. Robes and silks were draped over furniture or left on the floor. Mirrors with little tables holding innumerable bottles and containers were on the far wall, and two beds—one in a vibrant, royal purple, and the other a bright, soft teal—were to his right.
He rested Nida on the teal bed, her auburn hair a splash of warmth in a sea of pillows and blankets. He swallowed and took a step back as the sister immediately knelt beside Nida and began murmuring to her with a hand to her forehead.
He paced silently at the foot of the bed, trying to ignore all the articles of clothing on the ground. Etta wouldn’t have ever let him see this side of her. She’d have rather died than seem anything other than perfect. He rolled his eyes.
“That was too close,” the sister mumbled.
He jerked his head in her direction. “She’s going to be okay?”
She nodded. “If you were any slower getting back, she would have died. We’re Life Weavers, but we can’t bring people back from the dead.”
He tilted his head and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t have any boots.”
She squinted at him. “You’re going to blame us for this?”
No. It was his fault for getting caught by the plant, and his fault Nida had had to heal him. It had been his brother’s fault for stealing, and his fault for standing in his place. He groaned and wiped his hand over his head. “Where were the guards? Why haven’t I been shackled and locked up?”
“Well, most of our sisters are turning in for bed, and the guards are gone because of Drathella. She lied and said that Nida had already come back through the eastern side. She said you escaped her. I suspected she was lying and found out she told the western side the same.” There was a snarl in her tone. Her gaze drifted from Nida to a wall across the room.
Drathella wanted her own sister dead? He and Maur had rough patches, sure, but they’d never wish the other dead.
He shuddered and held out his hand. “I’m Rowec.”
She stared at it. “Mind explaining what happened?”
Right. He retracted his hand and slid it into his pocket with Raz. “I got caught by some plant that tried to eat me, and Nida saved me and healed me. I don’t know why she collapsed. I don’t even know why she helped me.”
Her violet eyes settled on him. “Because she’s Nida. That’s what she does.” She rose. “I’m Ascara.”
He nodded. “When will she wake up?”
She shrugged. “Soon, I hope. I have to get back down to the kitchens. Cleaning up after feeding hundreds of Tialans takes a bit of work. Can you stay here and watch her?”
He gulped. Hundreds? “You’re not going to call the guards?”
She eyed him up and down and rested a hand on her hip. Was she measuring him up against her non-human strength, or something else?
“Eh. You brought her back, even though you expected everyone to jump on you.” She looked at Nida and back at him with a grin. “I think you’ll behave this time. I think you’ll make sure she wakes up.”
She was right. He wouldn’t risk Nida getting hurt again, not when she had shown him the most compassion out of all of these beasts.
Ascara swept past him and exited the room, leaving him alone with Nida.
He cleared his throat and pulled over a nearby stool carved from a paratil tree trunk to sit beside her.
What was he doing? What was he thinking?
He shook his head and dropped his chin to his chest. There had barely been enough time to process what had occurred over the last few hours, but this? He’d had his freedom. No more creepy slitherskin temple with weird beasts inside. He could have been back home with Maur, worrying about dealing with Etta. He groaned and rubbed his hand over his face several times.
“Regret bringing me back?” Nida’s voice was soft and airy.
His head shot up. “Nida!”
She half-grinned.
He scanned the room for some way of helping. “Do you need a blanket? Or some water? I’d offer more pillows, but—”
Her eyes shot open as pink flooded her cheeks. “Oh no. My room’s a mess,” she squeaked. She tried sitting up but grunted and palmed her forehead.
“Slow down. It’s fine. I-I don’t care about a mess. I was just in a cell, for crying out loud.” He eased her back, helping her tuck some of her hair over one shoulder.
She thinned her lips and looked away. “Actually, you were just inside a king drosera about to be eaten.”
He shook his head.
“You brought me back…” She shook her head, eyebrows pulled in. “I don’t understand.”
“I was being stupid. If one of my prisoners had acted as poorly as I had… I was an idiot. I’m sorry, Nida. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. I saw the opportunity when Drathella screwed up, and I took it. Why did you heal me?”
Her eyelashes fluttered. “I had to. I’m pretty bad at it, though. They think it’s because I’m more human than Tialan. I really don’t know why, but I can’t do much Life Weaving.”
“But you could have died? You all die doing it?”
“No, just me. Life Weavers t
ake Vigor and turn it into material—tissue, blood, bone, bark, leaf, wings, antennae. Whatever’s needed. But, I guess, I don’t have much Vigor to spare. It takes a lot of my own to heal anything, even cuts and bruises. Like I said, I’m pretty bad at it, but I’m glad I could heal you enough.”