Bishta the Black

by Jada Fisher

  “Don’t blame yourself,” Asoka said. “I’d do it all again. You saved me and I saved you, and that’s just all it is.”

  Tuni gulped, pursed her lips, and nodded. She was holding back her sobs, but gods, it was hard. “Okay,” she squeaked. She swiped at her eyes and cleared away her tears, hoping that more wouldn’t follow.

  They sat around the fire for a little while longer in silence. So many thoughts, worries, fears, and emotions swirled through Tuni’s head, but she struggled to put a voice to any of them, so she kept her lips sealed for once. All the while, small strips of meat hung on a flimsy excuse for a spit over the flames. It smelled good, but it wasn’t a lot of food for the two of them.

  Tuni usually wasn’t one for meat, since she had so much love and respect for the denizens of the wilds, but her stomach rumbled on top of all her pain, and a good meal would at least make her feel better.

  She licked her cracked lips. “What is that?”

  Asoka glanced at the meat and shrugged casually. “Not sure, just some little furry thing I found. Obviously, I’m not well versed with the fauna of your lands, but it looked like it could be yummy.”

  “Naturally.”

  There wasn’t a lot of good light to see by even with the fire, so it was hard to tell what the meat was. It was long and slim, so maybe a squirrel or rabbit? No, something bigger. Either way, Tuni’s mouth began to water.

  Asoka leaned forward, taking the food from the fire and blowing on it. “I hope it isn’t bad. I fell asleep for a minute and fear I may have burnt it.”

  “I’m sure it’s fine.”

  The mermaid’s frown told her that she wasn’t convinced about it. She lifted the meaty spit in front of her face and gave it a scrutinizing gaze. Her brows furrowed and her lips crinkled as she lifted it closer and gave it a sniff. Her cringe wasn’t a good sign, but there wasn’t really much she could do.

  She handed the meat to Tuni. The wilding accepted it with pursed lips and a curt nod. “Toes crossed it tastes alright.”

  Tuni smirked at her as she took her meal. “Toes crossed?”

  “Oh, that…” She cleared her throat, cheeks flushing. “It’s, um… It’s sort of a thing mer do when we we’re hoping for things to turn out in our favor.”

  Tuni laughed. “That’s funny. We do the same thing, only we cross our fingers instead of toes.” She gave it a sniff herself. The meat was charred a bit too much and smelled like smoke, but Tuni had eaten a lot worse, so she took a tentative bite.

  Oof, that-that isn’t good.

  It was definitely burnt, dry, and hard to chew. Definitely could have used some spices that her mother had bought from a passing city merchant. Tuni would have taken even some salt to distract her from the char. But she chewed and chewed and swallowed, even if it made her eyes water and her throat burn.

  “Nothing about your face makes me think that was pleasant,” Asoka said.

  Tuni swallowed hard. It was awful, but the feeling of the meat hitting her stomach still found a way to satiate her hunger. Her tastebuds hated it, but her stomach wasn’t going to be so picky, so she took another hard bite and chewed.

  “It’s good,” she fibbed.

  “We both know that’s a lie.”

  Despite her best efforts, despite all the swirling awful thoughts in her mind, the sight of Asoka’s withered hand and the guilt that came with it, and all the pain and discomfort, Tuni found a way to laugh at that. Soon Asoka joined her, and their laughs reverberated through the cave, cocooning them in their mirth. Tuni hurt all over and the laughter just made everything worse, but for a moment, she could bear it all for her friend, to share in the miraculous fact that they were both still alive.

  When their laughter faded, Asoka, with her bad hand still tucked against her side, winced and swiped her hair out of her eyes. Her eyes found Tuni, and her emotions seemed to overcome the wildling.

  “I’m glad you’re okay. I’m glad that we can still laugh.”

  “Me too.”

  “How are you feeling? I haven’t asked.”

  Tuni looked at the fire and took another rough bite. “Well, between your magic and your cooking, I’m barely holding on to life here.”

  Asoka scoffed. “Toon, be serious.”

  The meat scraped down her throat and she had to keep down a renewed effort of vomit trying to claw its way up from her stomach. In truth, she felt absolutely awful and she kind of thought she was dying, but she’d also been in worse pain, so maybe she wasn’t on the edge of death.

  “I’m okay. It hurts to move, hurts to laugh, hurts to chew, but I’m not dead, so I think that’s progress. What about you?”

  Asoka shook her head. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. We’re both fine, that’s all that matters now.”

  We’re fine, Tuni told herself, but even if that was true for the moment, she couldn’t shake her fear, shake that absolute terror of how close they’d been to death. If she’d been seconds slower, Asoka might be… No, she had to think about something else. Tuni knew how dangerous their journey was, but if she dwelled too much on the what-ifs and the fears, then she’d never have the courage to fight.

  So yeah, she and Asoka were alive, and that in and of itself was somewhat of a miracle. Were they fine? She was uncertain about that, but they were most definitely alive, and for that, she was thankful.

  She just had to make sure they stayed that way. She couldn’t bear to lose anyone else that she was close to. Tuni had lost too much already.

  “Are you okay?” Asoka suddenly asked again, though Tuni could tell that she wasn’t asking about her wounds.

  With a dramatic and appropriate groan, Tuni sat up fully and crawled over to Asoka’s side. The young sage tried to stop her, but Tuni pushed through the pain. Asoka gave up trying and just sat still, her good hand resting in her lap and the other still tucked against her side as she sat back on her heels. She sucked in a breath as Tuni settled in front of her and took her hands in her own.

  The withered hand was rough, dry, and brittle, like crinkled sandpaper in her grip. Tuni feared that if she exerted even a smidge of strength, the hand would crumble to dust. So, so fragile… She knew why ‘Soka did it, and she’d have probably done it herself if she’d faced the same choice, but she really wished that Asoka hadn’t needed to make that choice.

  Tuni gave Asoka’s good hand a squeeze. “M-maybe this is a, uh, lot to say out of nowhere but, uh…” Her voice began to shake, and tears came to her eyes. She wanted to quell all the emotions roaring up inside her. The fear of losing Asoka was enough to make her crack.

  Asoka was shaken herself by this sudden display. “Toon, don’t…don’t be like this. I’m okay, you’re okay, we’re okay. Please—”

  “I don’t want to lose you, ‘Soka,” Tuni blurted through her tears. Her eyes stung and she squeezed them shut to clear her vision, but that did little good. “I-I lost my sister, my friends, my mother. You’re the only friend I have. Well, and Gayla, Shandi, and Dorrick.” She chuckled, the torrent of tears still falling. Her hands shook, but Asoka didn’t pull away.

  “I know that we haven’t known each other long, but…but I connect with you more than anyone I’ve ever met.” Tuni choked on a sob, her heart squeezing tight in her chest. “We’re safe now, but we’ll face danger again soon enough, and I… I can’t lose you.”

  Tuni squeezed her hands tight, even though she felt like she was gripping the withered hand too hard. Asoka didn’t make a sound, though.

  “No matter how dangerous things get, I’ll stick by your side, fish legs. No matter my fear or the danger, I’ll fight until the end to save this world. I just…” She swallowed hard. “You needed to know how I feel. In case…”

  She let that thought go unsaid. Voicing it into existence seemed like a bad omen.

  They stared at each for a long moment, eyes locked and glistening as tears trailed their cheeks. Asoka, in this moment, let her muscles relax, and her scales returned faintly to her face, ma
king the tears shine in bright colors. It made her look as beautiful as ever. Tuni smiled.

  Without saying anything else, Asoka pulled Tuni to her and hugged her tighter and let out a laugh that held so much happiness within it. Her hug hurt, but Tuni was willing to ignore that pain. All that mattered was being able to hold her friend in this moment.

  “You’re the sister I never had,” she said through her tears and a wide smile.

  Tuni didn’t want to let her go. She was afraid that if she did, this frail and injured little mer would crumble before her very eyes. No doubt, Asoka was probably thinking the same thing about her. She wouldn’t blame her. They were both young girls thrown into this dangerous and wild world and had to help great powers to keep it safe. They both could be killed, and it was scary, but Tuni believed that as long as they were together, everything would be okay. She had to believe that.

  Finally, they broke apart. Asoka pulled back but pressed her forehead against Tuni’s and took a deep breath. “I’m so happy you’re safe,” she whispered.

  Tuni closed her eyes and smiled. “Same to you, fish legs.”

  She could feel Asoka grin.

  The mermaid then pulled back for real, her hand trailing down Tuni’s before finally dropping. Asoka stood and went by the fire to stoke it to life, since the light was fading.

  The moment was over, though Tuni’s heart still raced and she felt incredibly warm, and it wasn’t from the fire. She raked a hand through her hair. So many knots offered up resistance. She needed a bath.

  “So,” she said, breaking the brief silence, “what now?”

  Asoka laid her staff across her lap and rubbed her good hand over it. “I already went back to the hut. Bishta was gone. We did a number on her, you and I, but she’ll be back.”

  Tuni nodded. She figured as much. It wouldn’t be their luck that she’d be dead. “So what do we do?”

  “Well,” Asoka said and took a deep breath. “We were going to go look for Shandi and Dorrick, right? We can still do that. We need all the help we can get.”

  “I suppose so. I hope they’re doing alright.”

  “I’m sure they are if they’re as amazing as you’ve described them.”

  Tuni smiled. “They are. I know they can handle anything that is thrown at them.”

  Asoka paused and looked at her with an arched brow, her lips pursed. “Would they even be able to handle Bishta if she came here looking for Gayla?”

  “I… Well, probably not, but she came here looking for you, and the note said that Shandi and Dorrick went away for a mission. I think they’re fine.”

  The mer nodded. “I guess we’ll have to find out.” Asoka helped her back into a laying position. “It’ll be dawn in a few hours. You should get some rest first. You’re still in bad shape. Your life is no longer in danger, but your wounds could reopen if you push yourself too hard.”

  “But your magic?”

  “My magic mended your wounds, but it needs time to take permanent effect. Just guessing from the memories in my head, you should be perfectly fine in a few days, but you’ll be sore for a while.”

  Tuni nodded. She hoped Asoka was right. “Okay.”

  Asoka smiled and rubbed her thumb against Tuni’s forehead. “We’ll head out tomorrow when you’re better. Now get some rest, I’ll take watch.”

  “You need rest too, ‘Soka.”

  “Not as much as you do.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t make me use my magic to make you sleep, Tuni.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  Asoka flashed her a wicked grin, though it didn’t hold the same evilness that Bishta’s had. “Just watch me. Rest now.”

  Ugh, fine. Tuni knew she was right. Her body felt awful, and though it wasn’t like how it had been in the immediate aftermath of the battle, it was still very unpleasant. It was hard to breathe, and every slight movement was jarring. Yeah, sleeping would be better. And returning to that dreamscape of heaven was a pleasant prospect. She hoped that was where she ended up again.

  So, heeding the Sage of the Seas’ command, Tuni closed her eyes and eventually fell to sleep.

  7

  Baerdon

  Baerdon wasn’t used to forests. He was used to the wide-open plains, to the sun always being on his neck and shoulders, the warmth of its light, the constant breeze rolling over the grassy hills. Being able to spot predator or prey before they ever spotted you. Well, that part isn’t always true.

  But he loved the plains, and he was not at all fond of the forests of the south.

  This forest wasn’t massive. It took them a few hours to cut through. There were no paths, but Maedon seemed to know where he was going, which was good because Baerdon was all turned around. Without the sun or the wind, or very miniscule bits of it, he was lost. He couldn’t tell which way was which.

  There was so much sound too. Sure, the plains had the near-constant whistling of the winds, but that was one sound, easy to pick up and ignore. But in the forests, there was a cacophony of warring sounds, the songs of birds and the chittering of small critters and the rustling of leaves. To go with the small breeze that still blew and disturbed the thousands of trees and their labyrinth of branches.

  It was so hard to focus on just one sound. He felt like something could be stalking them and he’d never know it. The darkness of the forest didn’t help with that. There were so many shadows, so many places to hide. Too many things could have been lying in wait, patiently seeking the right opportunity to strike.

  Yet Maedon walked on with Baara and Yuma in his arms. He didn’t seem scared, or at least not more so than he had before. Baerdon should have been at ease. Gayla was the stewardess of the earth. All of nature bowed before her magic. There was nothing to be concerned with and in the back of his mind, he was well aware, but he simply couldn’t shake the change.

  Maybe it was those shadow monsters. This would be a perfect place for them, and he didn’t want to see any more of them.

  They got a reprieve when the forest ended for a few miles, turning into an open stretch of fields that extended out from a river valley. It was a large river, with quick rapids and dark depths that cut the valley in two between the forests. Baerdon was worried they’d have to delay and find someplace to cross safely, but Gayla simply said a spell and wove them a bridge of roots that she summoned forth from the earth.

  It had left them all thoroughly dumbstruck—even Ivara couldn’t find the words—so they all just crossed in silence, careful not to tumble into the dangerous white waters beneath.

  But they crossed with no trouble. Maedon thanked the sage, and then made note of the columns of smoke upriver where another tribe sat far in the distance. The Nachtosh perhaps? Baerdon tried to cast his mind back to the roskmoot. He hadn’t really gotten acquainted with any of the southern tribal participants.

  He wondered, as he cast his gaze west along the river at that tribe, if that smoke was from active fires, or remnants of a home now abandoned, their people too having disappeared?

  Once they were over the river, they marched over the golden field and were right back into the forest. Baerdon hated it, though Tuk enjoyed himself. He bounded off, chasing small creatures up into the trees. They wouldn’t catch anyone off guard, but maybe his big hound would scare off any potential threats.

  This forest was a lot larger than the last, as they hadn’t made it out when the sun dropped below the horizon and plunged the forest into darkness. Baerdon made the fire while Ivara left to trap some food. She returned swiftly with a brown fox, blood dripping from it.

  She skinned the thing and stuck the meat over the fire.

  The four of them sat around the flames, their camp bright but the area beyond was pure black, and Baerdon didn’t like the unease. Of course, there was no moon or stars to see by—the canopy above was too thick—so it was just their little fire against the wall of darkness.

  When the meat was done, they all ate in silence, aside from the babies who
had trouble eating. Once that was sorted, they were wide awake, so Maedon handed Yuma to Gayla and Baara to Baerdon.

  “They love strangers,” he said gleefully and not without some relief of being able to pass them off to someone.

  “I don’t know if that’s a good trait to have,” Baerdon remarked as he accepted the child. Baerdon cradled Baara in his arms, and she seemed so tiny now that he actually held her. She had two big green eyes that looked at him with curiosity. She made a few cooing sounds that tugged at his heart. He offered her his pinky, and she gripped it tightly with both hands.

  Gayla meanwhile whispered some nice foreign words at Yuma with a smile, making the baby giggle. Gayla’s smile grew even wider. Then she played hide and seek with her green hat, which made the baby squeal with glee.

  If he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought they were just a normal family, traveling between tribes, with everything right in the world.

  That wasn’t the case, unfortunately.

  Maedon took a long swig of water and even doused his face and neck. He had looked a bit rank earlier. He’d been running with his children for so long, he was caked in sweat and dirt.

  “We’re not far now,” he said, wiping sweat from his brow. “We should make it there by tomorrow, if I had to guess.”

  Ivara leaned forward, balancing an elbow on her knee. “I thought you didn’t know the exact location?”

  “I don’t, but there’s only so many places for a group so large to go. We’ll hit the sea soon and will run out of land, so unless this army of hypnotized tribesmen tries to cross the channel to Masrataa…”

  He was going to say more, but then he covered his mouth to stifle a gasp. “You don’t think that’s where they’re heading?”

  Yama giggled, and Gayla, smiling wide, wiggled her nose against the baby’s. When she pulled her face back, her smile faded to a serious line. “It is a possibility we must consider.”