Onio

by Jeppsen, Linell

  Mel gasped. “Thirty years old? That’s not young at all! That’s getting old!”

  Onio laughed. “Old maybe for the small humans, but very young for us. Most of my people live three or four hundred turns.”

  Mel stared at the sasquatch for a moment. She honestly felt a little like Alice in Wonderland, having fallen through a hole in the earth only to wake up with sasquatches instead of white rabbits and dormice.

  “Thank you for talking with me, Onio. I’m glad I met you…I hope it all works out,” she whispered. Her eyes were closing despite her best efforts to stay awake. She felt like she’d gone ten rounds with Mohamed Ali…and lost.

  Onio bowed his head, “I am happy to have met you as well, little human. I wish you only happiness….” He stiffened and looked over his shoulder. Two dogs ran into the cavern…the old shepherd, and the small terrier. They were followed by Rain, Onio’s grandmother, and two male sasquatch guards.

  “Grandson,” Rain announced. “Go and prepare yourself to meet with your grandfather’s brother, Ironhands.”

  Onio’s eyes grew wide for a moment, then he straightened his shoulders without wincing with pain. “I will go there now,” he replied.

  “Onio…wait,” Rain said. “Normally I would tell you to go uncovered…to display your wounds of testing with pride. I think though, under the circumstances, you should wear the cloak of office. Ironhands has come because he heard you brought the small human into our midst. He is here to challenge Bouldar for leadership of the tribe!”

  The old female was dignity personified, but Mel could sense in her body language her fear and horror of what was to come. Rain held her arms out in a gesture of defeat.

  “I know that you are hurt, Onio, and thus at a disadvantage, but I think a challenge will be issued this day!”

  “A challenge I will meet with resolve, Grandmother!” Onio was growling with rage.

  The two guards lifted their spears and howled with anger and pride. Mel realized that although Onio had enemies, he also had a loyal following of his own. He turned to her and bowed.

  “Once again, little human, my apologies for any harm I may have caused you. I wish you well. Goodbye.” He turned and was gone.

  It seemed very quiet after Onio and the guards left. Mel looked to where Rain stood alone by the fire.

  “What happens now?” she asked.

  Rain looked at her and replied, “Now we wait for my grandson to die.”

  Chapter 6

  Mel’s mouth dropped. “What? Why?” she gasped.

  As Rain turned toward her, Mel saw that tears ran down either side of the old female’s nose and she was visibly trembling.

  “Onio is a fine man,” she replied. “But as you know he is only half sasq. The other, maybe bigger part of him is small human. Onio has not the strength to defeat Ironhands or any of that kings warriors in battle, should Ironhands decide not to fight for himself. The only thing that I can hope for is that Bouldar puts an end to his brother’s latest bid for power.”

  Rain walked to the far side of the chamber and rummaged around on a shelf of rock. Straightening, she walked over to Mel and handed the girl her clothes.

  “Put these on. If Onio is killed, custom dictates that he be buried immediately. Then our tribe must merge with Ironhands’s bigger, stronger tribe. He will want to leave soon after the burial.”

  And it might be more appropriate if the small human is buried with some clothes on rather than half-naked, Mel thought. She didn’t know how she knew what Rain was thinking but she heard the words as plain as day. Gulping with fear, she sat up and pulled her t-shirt over her head. Even that small act made the world spin in dizzying circles.

  “Here…let me help you,” Rain muttered. The old female helped Mel into the jeans she had been wearing when she drove home from the hospital. Her touch was surprisingly gentle when she smoothed Mel’s socks over her feet.

  “Oh…man,” Mel gasped as another lightning bolt of pain shot through her skull.

  Rain studied Mel’s tennis shoes and their laces dubiously before throwing them into a corner.

  “I’ll be back in a moment, child. Lie down for a little while.”

  Rain left the cave and Mel lay back with a sigh. One minute she felt fine; scared, sure, but equally confused and amazed at what was happening around her. Then those nauseating waves of pain reminded her that she might not survive the experience at all. She closed her eyes, swallowing hard to keep from vomiting.

  A few minutes later Rain returned with a pair of soft, hide slippers and a cup of something hot and noxious smelling. Mel wrinkled her nose at the smell.

  “Drink this,” the old female demanded.

  Mel stared askance at the bowl. “What is it?” she asked.

  Rain glared at her. “It’s medicine. Roots of the cedar tree, sap from the holly, honey and manure…drink!”

  “Manure? You mean…poop?” Mel exclaimed. “Eeew…no way!”

  Rain bared her teeth and grabbed Mel’s face in one big hand. She wormed her thumb and middle fingers into the girl’s cheeks and smiled as Mel’s mouth opened, despite her best efforts. Tipping Mel’s head back, Rain poured the concoction down her throat.

  “Gah!” Mel choked as tears filled her eyes. Her stomach writhed like a snake and then miraculously, she felt better. She blinked up at Rain and smiled.

  Rain smiled back and turned at the sound of running footsteps. Mel saw the two guards enter the cave.

  “Pardon, but your presence is requested in the outer hall.”

  Rain froze and said, “My grandson, is he—”

  The big guard, a purebred giant with dark gray and silver fur, shook his head, “Rain, Onio is fine, for now. There has not been a challenge issued yet. However, Ironhands would look at the small human female now.” He glanced in Mel’s direction. “Is she well enough to walk on her own?”

  “I’m all right,” Mel declared, sitting up on the pallet. The guards looked at her with surprise.

  “The small human is already adept in using the soul song,” Rain murmured, “but not well enough to walk all that way without help. Please carry her there, Wolf.”

  The big guard nodded and picked Mel up as though she was as light as a feather, although Mel was five feet nine and weighed around one hundred and forty pounds. Despite her protests, Wolf told her to be quiet and strode out of the cavern, down a long tunnel and into a huge fire-lit cavern.

  The cavern was enormous, easily four thousand feet in diameter. There were three large bonfires and small sconces dotted the walls here and there with flickering gouts of flame. Mel saw that there were at least a hundred sasquatches in attendance. They were all staring toward the far wall where Onio, Bouldar and their guards faced off against another group of huge male warriors.

  The sasquatches parted rank to let Wolf, Rain and Mel pass. The other guard, whose name was Nimi, stayed at the back of the cave.

  Although being carried into the chamber made Mel feel like an idiot, it did give her a chance to study the king’s brother, Ironhands. What she saw made her shudder with fear. There was no way Onio would be able to defeat that sasquatch or his guards. They were enormous, and all of them carried fierce looking weapons like long wooden staffs, clubs, and gnarled branches.

  Ironhands looks like a bit of a dandy, she thought. His chest was crisscrossed with braided leather strips and he wore long, elaborate pants embroidered with fearsome scenes of blood and battle. He also wore a sort of crown made up of vines, beads, bits of colorful stone, and molded wood encircling his mighty brow, casting his eyes in shadow, making him appear a giant, compared to the brother who sat opposite from him on a large tree-trunk.

  Wolf came to a stop in front of Bouldar and bowed. “The small human, Bouldar,” he said.

  Rain had brought Mel’s fur blanket. She laid it on the floor of the cave and stepped away while Wolf set Mel down on it. Then she moved to stand behind her husband, the king. Onio’s mother, Petal, was on her knees in front
of Ironhands. Mel saw that her lips were moving so she tried to listen with her newfound abilities but only caught one word in three, or four.

  She understood now why the other sasquatches scorned the half-breed female. They simply could not understand her. Mel’s heart wept in sympathy; she had felt the same thing her whole life and knew just how frustrating it was to try to communicate with people when you could not talk.

  Petal turned toward her mother and her eyes were wide with panic. “Mother,” she cried silently. “Help…understand!”

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she was trying to say. She was pleading her son’s case but Ironhands was having none of it. What was more infuriating to Mel was the fact that Ironhands was feigning ignorance. It was easier, apparently, to claim innocence than to direct his attention toward what he obviously considered an inferior being. Mel clenched her teeth in rage.

  “Bouldar, I have no idea of what this woman is trying to say. Why don’t you have her removed? Her presence is disturbing my newest guard.”

  A large, very dark sasquatch stirred by Ironhands’s side. He looked distinctly embarrassed and gazed at his feet in silence. Mel saw that he was an attractive specimen with bulging muscles and a trim belly, unlike his king who wore a roll of fat around his middle like an inner tube. His teeth were very white and his long mustaches were adorned with teeth and claws.

  Onio gazed at him with hatred and longing. His mother, Petal, could not keep her eyes away. She alternated between staring down at her own feet and glancing up at him with worshipful eyes. Mel knew then that Petal adored her missing husband despite his betrayal of her and her son.

  “Petal will stay, brother,” Bouldar said. “It is the fate of her son that concerns us all now. I will not have you cast her away.”

  “No matter then,” Ironhands scoffed. “You have allowed your tribe to be weakened by bad blood…blood you yourself have embraced! Now, it happens again!” He turned his gaze upon Mel.

  “Look at what Onio brings into our midst,” he declared. “Another filthy small to weaken our ranks; another risk of war with the small human soldiers! When will the folly end, Bouldar…when all of our kind has finally been eliminated by you and yours?”

  Bouldar heaved a great sigh and bowed his head. “Onio made a mistake, brother. Did you never make mistakes when you were young? Be careful of your answer, Ironhands, because I was there!”

  Mel heard the sounds of laughter echo around the cavern and in her mind. She saw Ironhands glare through beady little eyes at his brother as though daring him to tattletale on the exploits of their youth. Mel smiled.

  Looking at Mel, Ironhands eyes grew wide. “Does she understand us, Bouldar? I just saw her smile at your jest!”

  Mel could have kicked her self. She had let her guard down and now all the sasquatches knew she could understand their silent speech. She looked at Rain, who was whispering something in her husband’s ear, and at Onio, who looked truly frightened for the first time since she entered the chamber.

  Even Bouldar looked aghast, as though things had just become very complicated and deadly. All the sasquatches were staring at her and, just like before, Mel could tell that they were guarding their thoughts from her. Within seconds silence filled Mel’s mind.

  The hostility in Ironhands eyes was raw and undeniable. She understood that she had just condemned Onio and herself to death. “Onio, is this your doing?” Ironhands snarled. “I have always known that your tainted blood has made you a liability to your tribe, but this is a crime punishable by death!”

  Suddenly, a great clamor arose in Mel’s mind. Warriors from both tribes were screaming in rage and defiance. Hidden weapons appeared like magic and now it looked as though the bigger tribe was going to attack Onio’s people. It was bedlam and Mel couldn’t stand it anymore.

  “STOP!” she cried.

  The noise died down at once as the sasquatches turned to face her. She lifted her chin. Although her stomach quivered like jelly and her headache was back, she faced the tribes with pride. “The only thing Onio did was save my life. I cannot hear…my ears are broken. That’s why I can hear the soul song. But I cannot speak words with my mouth. Don’t you see? Your secret is safe with me!”

  Mel saw many of the creatures turn toward one another and speak of what they just heard. She saw Petal gazing at her, partly with hope and partly in confusion. She saw Rain nod in approval. Bouldar, though, was staring at his brother. Ironhands was quivering with rage. His eyes glowed red with wrath.

  “Would you listen to this filthy small human and take her words over mine?” he growled, “Don’t you know that she is a spy sent here to gain intelligence of our whereabouts? If you trust this female and the traitor Onio, then we will all surely perish!”

  It was like flipping a switch: immediately all the members of Ironhands’s tribe roared with rage. Spears were raised and the females of Bouldar’s tribe gathered and fled toward the back of the cave. Mel was left alone with Onio, Wolf and Bouldar. They stood together and waited for the tribe’s decision.

  Ironhands stood as well. He seemed self-satisfied and smug. Mel hated him then and her heart twisted with grief at what she had caused for Onio and his people.

  “It is time now, Bouldar, to admit defeat,” Ironhands declared. “You are old, brother, and frail. You know as well as I do that the small humans move against us. That you allowed one of them into our sacred enclave is testimony that your leadership is in question. I would have you surrender your tribe to me, after the traitor Onio is put to death!”

  A great soaring sigh blew through Mel’s mind and a chorus of grief overwhelmed her senses. She looked up into Onio’s beautiful green eyes and fainted dead away at his feet.

  Chapter 7

  Petal stepped into the shadows and saw her mother, Rain, cast a swift glance in her direction as she bent down to assist the fallen small. Every member of both tribes stirred with emotion—anger, sorrow, excitement and triumph—with the news that First Son…her son…was to be put to death.

  Over my dead body, she vowed. Petal noticed that, as usual, no one paid her any attention. In their minds, she was as unimportant, as foreign, as the small female. She could not communicate properly and her looks were far too different from theirs to ever be accepted as an equal. For once, she was happy with that fact.

  When Petal was small, her foster mother, Rain, noticed things about the child that were unusual and strange. Although the child could not speak, she was developing extraordinary telepathic and telekinetic abilities. When she wanted water, Petal would simply hold her hand in the air and the bowl would drift her way like an obedient puppy. When she was cold, a snap of a finger would send a cooking fire into gouts of flame.

  Rain was frightened. Not only was the half-sasq a social misfit, she was an adept. The tribe was always on the lookout for children with extra mental powers. These young ones would often be sent to live with the wise ones. The ancient instructors endeavored to teach these promising students the art of healing, weather craft or animal husbandry. The wise ones were also reluctant to allow too much mental power into the tribal bloodlines.

  In past years, the advent of extraordinary mental power sometimes signaled the onset of intellectual deficiency. Many times these children grew up only to live in a fog of hallucinations, paranoia, and unbridled power. Many times over Rain’s long lifetime a berserker had run amok, screaming incoherently, maddened by demons only he or she could see. Inevitably, these sad creatures were put to death.

  Rain was essentially a gentle and kind female. She adored her husband, although she still resented him and the child he had thrust into her care. At one point, she gave serious consideration to killing the girl herself. After all, she was a medicine woman; she knew a hundred different ways to kill the child without arousing the slightest suspicion. There were plants, mushrooms and deadly venom. A simple fall would solve all her problems. But the way Bouldar looked at his daughter was enough to quell those thoughts.


  Men of the tribe rarely spent time in the females’s kitchens or living quarters. Her husband was an exception to that rule. He was gone most of the day, hunting, gathering wood or visiting the neighboring tribes. Nevertheless, when he arrived back home, Bouldar always came directly to Rain’s quarters to visit with her and his daughter. He delighted in his little girl’s antics and marveled at her strange, exotic beauty. He encouraged Petal to develop her psychic abilities and laughed at the half-breed’s tricks. Finally, Rain could stand no more. “Bouldar,” she cried. “You are putting your daughter at risk!”

  Her voice was far too shrill. She hung her head in shame as her husband eyed her in consternation. “What do you mean, wife?” he asked softly.

  Rain wrung her hands. “Maybe you have forgotten, Bouldar, what happens to the adepts in our tribes, but I have not. I care for the child in my own way, and would not see her put to death by the wise ones!”

  Suddenly, Rain realized that she did care for the little half-breed sasq. She was sweet, intelligent, curious and kind. Petal knew nothing about the cloud of controversy that surrounded her and her father. She was friendly to everyone she met, and she was stunned when her advances were inevitably rebuffed. Many times over the first eight years of her life, Petal had asked why the other sasquatch children hated her, and why she looked different from them as well.

  Rain spoke softly, “Bouldar, it is time we tell her what she is and why the others spurn her advances.”

  The little half-breed stared at her father and at the kind woman known as Healer Rain. Her heart twisted in fear at the solemn expressions on her parent’s faces. What have I done wrong? She wondered frantically.

  That was the day Petal finally understood what made her so different; it was also the day she learned to hide her abilities from the others. Rain made no secret of what could happen if the tribe turned on her, or thought she was a risk to herself or to them all as a whole.