Ren’s mouth was agape.
“You can’t go hunting without this.” The tree chuckled. Sliding a particularly pointy branch toward her, the branch slid from the tree’s grip and dropped to the ground.
15
A stick. The creepy talking tree had given her a six-foot-long stick.
“Spear.” It had corrected her. “Hunt the creature with spiraled horns. It has been hounding me for centuries.”
Ren almost asked—what creature? But decided against it. She wanted to be surprised. Have a little fun before she died out here.
As she stalked away, stick—sorry—spear clenched between her sweaty hands, the tree had teasingly warned her: “Kill it, or be killed. My skeleton friend here can’t stay strung up for too long.”
Ren rolled her eyes. Her left shoulder ached like—well, like a handful of bloody talons had pierced through muscle and bone. Blood matted on her skin, her t-shirt sliding down her arm. It was just a useless rag now, but all she had beneath it was a bra. Much help a bra would be against the smattering of insects and blanket of humidity this godforsaken place offered. If the creature with the spiraled horns didn’t kill her, that bull-headed—thing—certainly would. She had to find the creature with the spiraled horns—and fast. Maybe she could get it to go farther into the jungle, running after her. An easier treat to snack on versus a freaking tree.
Either way, she was fucked. If Itzel were here, she would have killed that bull-headed thing. But Ren was not Itzel. Ren was Ren, a useless failure good at running away from her problems. Oh, and on fire. She was on fire. The stupid fever still hadn’t subsided.
Awesome.
Sticking the spear into the dirt, Ren reached and dragged her fingers alongside its tip. It opened like the mouth of a needle, its mouth sucking and pulling at her fingertips. Drawing blood from a few. Ren bit back, muttering to herself as she hoisted the weapon up and began moving forward again. The sun was falling, the sky poking between the high canopy of leaves resembling the color of a melted orange popsicle. Soon, it would be dark. And with the dark escaped any chance of Ren surviving the spiraled horn creature—whatever it was. For all she knew, it could be a person. Another one of those half-human half-animal-skull creatures. Hey—and maybe this one would be nice. Wouldn’t speak in strange riddles.
Ren didn’t have such luck.
The tree had directed her—she knew where to go. Things had gotten insanely easy—at least, up until the part where she had to kill whatever this thing was. But as darkness rained over the jungle, Ren’s skin crawled like a million fire ants stampeded over her. Things began to glow in the gloom, wide heart-shaped leaves flashed blue overhead. Floating fireflies danced around her in a funnel of winking fire. Stopping, she tried grabbing a few. Her heart sank as they disappeared, her tongue like cotton running over her lips when she licked them. She was dehydrated. Severely. She still hadn’t found water and now she had a task to do—or die trying.
Ren prowled further, keeping low against the brush. Using the darkness against whatever beast slunk around out there. Steamed seemed to lift from her scalp as she dropped to her butt in a twisted fountain of ferns and peered out into the jungle beyond. Snapping a couple of fern leafs from the bush, she chewed on them. Savoring what water they collected between their strands. Damn, this is good. But it only made her hungry. Didn’t quench her thirst. I’ll find more—I’ll find a stream. But first, she’d have to get past that.
Something prowled along the jungle floor, creeping along like a cat. The fronds froze when the creature snorted, smelling her—no doubt. It wouldn’t have been easy to pass up her sweaty stench. Ren grasped the spear—it was like everything in the jungle was coming for her. Searching her out. No—that’s not true. That was all in her head—there was no telling how large, or small, this place was. Maybe it was just heavily populated.
Fire glowed in the distance, shaped like almonds. Eyes.
Here we go.
Jolting up, she sprinted—screaming. Waving her arms and the spear. The creature let out a low growl that exploded into the ear-splitting spike of a lion’s roar. She saw the glint of eyes, fireflies jumped and skidded along low hanging horns swirling near the lion’s face like the horns of a ram. Damn. Ren sprinted past it, putting as much distance between herself and the beast. The thirst was coming back now, but adrenaline won out as she panted and heaved. Her stomach could have crawled up through her throat—she was in so much pain. Muscles she didn’t even know existed cried out in stifling exhaustion—but if she wanted to keep living, keep breathing, she would have to ignore it. She would have to bang up her body to survive out here. Ren was finally getting it.
It pounded through the ferns, through the bushes and gnarled tree roots. There wasn’t a gorge ripping the jungle in two this far out, and even if there was—a lion would easily be able to jump it. Paws outstretched. It would take her down before she even made it across.
Where could she go? Where could she take it? Her palms and thighs burned. When she exhaled, a hand of steam escaped from her mouth. Damn, she was hot.
A copse of trees forded her vision. A long wooded barrier stood between her and safety. Listening for the snorting run of the beast, she wheezed her way forward. Slipping between two closely woven trees, she flattened her back against the one to her left and listened as the lion broke through the copse.
Ren smiled. It thought she was still running. She had a chance. Biting her tongue, she turned and hugged the tree. Shimming up—hey, at least she knew how to do that—she hooked her leg over a slender branch large enough to support her weight and stashed the spear under her armpit.
The beast vanished, prowling along in the thicket. Ren caught tribal markings marching up and down the lion’s golden body. She caught glimmering eyes, a burst of flowing mane touching the foliage as it moved.
It was majestic. Deadly. Fast enough to disappear in a blink.
No longer following the beast’s movements, Ren’s eyes frantically scanned the foliage below. She had no idea if lions could climb trees—hell, this was no ordinary lion anyway. With her luck, the damned thing could fly. Or maybe it was just large enough to hook its claws into the bark and clamber its way up. Hey—anything for easy food, right?
Ren ground her teeth. She couldn’t just count on the lion not being able to climb. She had to come up with a plan. Taking the spear from her armpit, she rubbed her fingertips along the spear’s open mouth. It sucked at her again, trying to draw her blood. If it could do that at the slightest touch, what could it do if she rammed the damned thing into the lion’s face? Would it suck the things blood? Would it even make a dent in its hide?
A roar made her flinch. It was close, hissing and spitting at her as it made eye contact from down below. A burning sensation ripped and bit at Ren’s palms as she watched the creature run head first at the tree, only to halt. Only to stare up at her and take a swipe at her legs.
Claw marks tore through her shins and feet. Blood dribbled down her legs and she cried out—almost losing her balance before swiveling her legs up and out of reach. The lion jumped again—adamant. Hungry. Adrenaline pumped through Ren’s veins as she angled the spear mouth first at the lion’s face and jabbed.
The creature cried. Blood smeared its face. The branch beneath Ren cackled at the sudden shift in weight, bending toward the ground. Ren tipped over. Hit the ground and grimaced as her left ankle bent inward. She was face to face with it now, a crazed glinted littering its molten eyes. Bucking its head, the lion took a step backward and plunged toward her, diving with its head lowered.
Ren pivoted out of the way, ignoring the spikes of pain that clawed up her ankle and shins. She held the spear at a tilt as the lion smacked into the tree trunk at her left. A primal scream poured from Ren’s mouth as she straightened the spear and ran.
She missed. Missed by an inch. The thing was just too damn fast.
It rounded on her, bowing before pouncing. Dropping to her knees, she scuttled away from it.
Monstrous claws bit into her left ankle and she screamed. Fell flat to the wet leaves and broken branches below, getting a mouthful of dirt, debris, and tears. The spear rolled from her hands. Dancing away, clinking against another tree in the copse. It was too far—too far for her to crawl with this damned lion attached to her ankle.
It wouldn’t let her go.
16
They say that when you’re about to die you’ll see your life flash before your eyes.
Ren saw nothing but fire.
She rounded on the lion, flat palm aimed toward its face. Her fingers reaching for its huge molten eyes.
Tongues of fire bled through her skin, flowing through the lines of her palm. Reaching, the tendrils blasted themselves across the distance. Bathing the lion’s face in an explosion of fire.
The creature backed off.
Huffing, Ren dropped her face into the foliage. It was cool and damp beneath her burning skin. Her eyes rolled up into her head and she let the night take her. Smoke billowed off of her body, eating away at her t-shirt and jeans. Leaving scorches of black marks on her forearms. Ren opened her eyes.
The ram-headed lion prowled into her field of vision. It surveyed her absently, coming close enough to press its triangular nose against her face. Backing away, it dropped down into a kneel.
Laughter burst from Ren’s lips. Dribbling from them like vomit. “Seriously?” she croaked. “What—what kind of game is this? I’m ready to wake up now.” She said. The lion cocked its head, done assaulting her for now, she assumed. “What’s going on?” she asked it, feeling dumb for even trying to talk to a fucking lion. Well—that tree had talked to her. Did this hurt? Ren rolled her eyes, sandpaper and rocks rubbed at her eye sockets. Damn—she really needed some water. Some food. Shelter—maybe new clothes.
She needed to go home. She needed to find Mia. If she could find her way out of this damned jungle, then maybe she could find her way to the north shore. There were people like her, Kato had told her, and maybe they would be more willing to help. The Shamaness had fucking poisoned her. Told her to go find “what was lost”. Maybe even stolen.
Well, in the jungle, Ren found nothing but pain and decay. Whatever the Shamaness was looking for—it wasn’t out here.
Ren dragged her arms along the jungle floor and painstakingly sat up. The lion moved away, sauntering toward her spear. Cradling it in its mouth, it dropped it into her lap.
“Thanks?”
The creature simply nodded.
“I need to go back.” Her job was done here. The lion wouldn’t annoy that weird tree any further. It was under her command now—she assumed.
Turning its gaze away from Ren, the creature sauntered alongside the copse of trees. It was leaving her. Or, maybe guiding her? Back to the village—maybe even toward the north shore! Ren shoved herself up and hobbled after the lion. It cast a gaze backward, eying her, before glancing around before itself. Scanning the path before them.
With the spear in her left hand, Ren opened and closed the fingers of her right hand. Little wisps of flame grew from her fingertips. Only to extinguish themselves, smoke wafting up from her blackened nails. Wait. She did it again—making sure to keep following the lion. Fire. It grew from her palms, from her fingertips. Though it scorched her skin, it hurt no worse than the fever that choked her neck and forehead. Ren blinked—even that was gone. The fever. Now, all she had to worry about was her dehydration and bleeding out from the claw-marks scissoring around her skin. Limping through the jungle after the lion, she winced every time weight shifted to her left ankle.
She couldn’t have made it this far to die—right? Where was the lion-thing taking her? She spotted stars winking through the canopy. The moon vanished behind gossamer clouds when she got a good look at it.
Why had it kneeled to her? Why did the Shamaness make her drink from that blue crystal thing? Ren realized—only Kato and the Shamaness wore the blue crystal. Seble’s throat was bare. Everyone else’s throats were bare. Why were the Shamaness and Kato so special?
One held a disgusting aura, while the other controlled air. And the guy who had made the earth rock and roll? Mafioso. Ren had yet to see him. Something told her that if she wanted Mia back, she would have to face him. Fuck.
Would the Shamaness help her now? Ren didn’t feel as useless anymore. She could control fire! Imagine that. Whatever she had been running from—maybe this Island was a godsend? Maybe it wasn’t as bad as she had believed it to be. Maybe she was…meant to be here?
What had that bull-skull thing said? Purpose? Ren bumped into the lion’s tail. It swished from side to side, agitated. The lion struck her with a glare. A growl reverberated through its throat.
In the darkness, a branch snapped.
17
Fire lit up Ren’s palm, extinguishing the darkness.
“Whoever’s out there—I’m seriously not looking for a fight.” Not another one, at least. Ren had done enough fighting for today. She was pretty sure she didn’t have another one in her.
“You did it.” The voice came from the thinning copse of trees. Ren swiveled around and almost dropped her head to her knees. “You’re alive.”
“Kato.”
He rushed to her. Planting his hands on her shoulders, his grin flashed in her firelight. “She will have no choice.” He said, eyes dancing with her flame. “She must help you now.”
“Yay.” Ren muttered. She fucking better.
With a guide, the jungle’s paths were ridiculously easy to follow.
“You were moving toward the Great River.” Kato told her as they walked, the lion-beast bringing up the rear. “Right now, it is dangerous to venture so far into the Wilds. The animals have become extremely aggressive.”
Ren sighed, “You don’t say.”
The Wilds. So that’s what they called this place. And the river? Must have been another part of the island—a place she had come pretty damn close to stumbling into. Oops.
“And the river is farther from your village?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “It is at the island’s heart.”
Noted.
It made sense to call this place the Wilds. It was so lavish and overgrown, like a garden whose caretaker had given himself to the trees. With the mixture of strange and magical creatures calling this place home, Ren was not surprised Kato’s people believed this place was dangerous.
But he had said—right now. Not—it’s always been dangerous. Something had changed things around here. But what?
When the trees began to thin, giving Ren a panoramic view of the starlit sky above, the green began to vanish. Grass as gray as freshly fallen ash began to meld with the green. Stick thin trees whiter than a gossamer veil took root near trees heavy with five-pointed leaves. The change was staggering, almost breath-taking for Ren. And as the Wilds backtracked, it gave way to a land as dead as the bull-headed creature’s depressing eyes. The village loomed up ahead.
“Why are things so different here?” Ren asked, slowing her pace as she tried to take it all in. She recognized the towering earthen wall that hugged the village in its shadow. She saw the Shamaness’s hut and the overarching lip of dried sediment that crested over the village. Her eyes caught a figure standing idly near the village’s entrance. Right on the gangplank.
“Where you are from, this does not happen?” his voice was tinged with disbelief, and maybe a bit of accusation as he stifled a look over his shoulder.
“No!” she blurted. From what Ren could remember about the States—it was either lush green pastures or asphalt jungles. “It’s always one or the other. Dead or alive. Not dead mixed in with the…” her words died. “I really don’t remember much.”
Kato grunted his reply, his words unintelligible. Drowned in island-speak.
If she wanted help from these people, maybe she should try to learn the language.
As they came closer, the figure on the gangplank waved and came rushing forward. Seble ran, a long bow of teakwood in her opposite
hand. Her fingers clung to rose petals cresting the tip of the bow. With an idle shrug, she hoisted the bow onto her back and waved both arms in greeting. She spoke their native language as Kato and Ren stopped before her. Her smile glistened, her bright eyes curving up at the corners as she spoke to Kato.
“Show her your fire.” Kato said, switching to English. “They’ll all want to see it.”
The lion-beast was long gone, having turned around at the edge of the jungle. Ren missed its presence and wished it were here to shield her from the villagers and their watchful eyes. Staring intently at her hand, little slivers of flame burst through the lines of her palm. Cutting through her skin like a knife through butter. Ren grimaced, she didn’t think she’d ever get used to that.
“You can paint a dung beetle like a ladybug, but it will still be a shit rolling beetle.” Seble said, avoiding Ren’s eyes. “No one expected the Outsider to return.”
“Excuse me?” Ren stepped in, shoving Kato aside. “Did you just say that I roll shit?”
“Look around and see what your kind has done. Moira may grant you Blessings, but it is only to hide what you truly are.” By now, Seble had closed the distance between the two of them. Hot breath misted on Ren’s face as she glared into Seble’s dark eyes. Seble snorted, suppressing a laugh.
“And what am I?”
Seble’s lower lip twitched. “Has rolling shit all day caused your ears to be full of it?—”
Kato broke them up, shoving them away from each other. He shot a glare at Ren, but turned his frustration on Seble. He spoke in their language, leaving Ren out of any deliberations. They argued while Ren chewed at her tongue. What had she ever done to agitate Seble? It didn’t matter—some people were just straight jackasses. Even people who saved your life. Ren let her anger go, reminding herself that if it weren’t for Seble she would have been boiled alive at the Kirabo camp.
Wild Magic (The Island Book 1) Page 5