The Gods Beneath

by C. M. Raymond

  “Then that’s who we need to find.”

  She could feel his body shake as he laughed. “Finding him won’t be the hard part. The medicine man is revered among the Muur. He lives in the middle of their village, protected from us or anyone else who might want to harm him. How are you going to get in there?”

  Hannah shrugged. “Same as I always do. By kicking ass.”

  He laughed again. “OK. Say you make it into the medicine man, then what?”

  It was Hannah’s turn to laugh. “I have ways of getting what I want.”

  “By kicking ass?”

  “You’re catching on, Vitali.”

  Within minutes Vitali motioned toward a clearing several hundred yards in the distance, where they could make out little dots. It was larger than Vitali’s village. The houses were taller, and the paths were wider. Everything was bigger, just like the Muur people themselves. She gave Sal a command, and he found a spot to land.

  Vitali and Hannah eased themselves from the scaled back of the dragon, and Vitali stretched and rubbed his legs. “You do this often?” He looked at the creature.

  “Not often enough,” Hannah said. “Anything I need to know about these guys before I go in with magic blazing?”

  Vitali smoothed the fur on the sides of his face that had been blown back by his first-ever dragon ride. “Yeah, one piece of advice. Don’t. My people, the Lynqi, are fast and excellent fighters, but we’ve never been a match for the Muur. They are the dominant breed. Beating them has never been a possibility, and we have made peace with that. For as long as I can remember, we’ve given them whatever they asked for.”

  “Some people don’t deserve the air they breathe, let alone the things they ask for. I’m going to have a lot of fun in there.”

  Vitali shook his head. “Listen, I’ve seen your power and I’ve seen you fight, but one nick from a poisoned blade and you’re finished. You need to think this through. We won’t win if we’re not smart about it.”

  “We?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “What about Daddy Dearest?”

  Vitali grinned. “You always do what your father told you?”

  “No. Almost never, but you didn’t know my dad. He was a real sonofabitch. Yours… He’s different.”

  “Yeah,” Vitali answered, “that’s probably right. If my father were here, there would be no way he would let you go in there alone. In his prime, he was a true warrior. Decades of being beaten by the Muur have worn him down.”

  “All right. I am of the mind that it is time for us to do some wearing of our own, but we’ll play it smart. Here’s what we’re going to do.”

  Hannah slowly walked him through the plan. Vitali’s face was serious, and she could tell that he was taking in every detail.

  When she finished, he nodded and said, “You truly are blessed by the gods if this is the kind of thing that works for you. That, or you’re a damned fool.”

  She nodded grimly as her eyes began to blaze red. She pulled her knife from its sheath. “Only one way to find out.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Hannah looked upon the Muur village from her vantage point on Sal’s back. The dragon circled high in the air, far enough from the ground that any watching eyes would think he was only a large bird.

  She was waiting. Waiting for Vitali’s signal, waiting for her moment to strike.

  She needed the Lynqi’s help, but she also wanted to keep him out of as much danger as possible. So instead of fighting, he would play the role of decoy.

  It was a role he had been born to play.

  On the distant edge of the village, a small tail of smoke lifted toward the sky. It quickly blossomed into a raging fire. The villagers ran toward the blaze.

  Nice work, kid.

  She leaned down and patted Sal on the shoulder. “Showtime, big guy. Give ‘em hell.”

  Hannah held on as Sal rocketed skyward. At the peak of his ascent she pushed off with her legs, letting the momentum carry her up for just a second before gravity took over.

  She spread her arms and legs as wide as she could to slow her fall. Meanwhile, Sal made himself into a perfect arrow, plunging toward the ground like he meant to break it in two.

  It was a ballsy move, one that would give her only a nominal advantage in the fight. But she was willing to take any edge she could.

  Sal pulled up at the last minute, buzzing the guards in front of a large building in the center of the town—the same building Hannah was about to land on.

  The last thing she saw was the guards chasing her dragon.

  She smiled. And as her eyes blazed red, she concentrated hard on the magic inside her.

  With a sound like thunder, she disappeared out of the night sky and reappeared a moment later in the middle of a large room.

  The dozen or so Muur men and women waiting there fell over themselves in fright at this strange creature’s dramatic entrance. Her crimson eyes were a thing of nightmares.

  Hannah scanned the room and immediately found the man she was looking for. His arms were adorned with jewelry, and he sat in a high-backed oaken chair.

  “My business is with him,” she said pointing her dagger toward the medicine man. “The rest of you can leave now, or die. And that’s a one-time offer, so you’d better take it.”

  But the theatrics and threats weren’t enough to scare this room full of hardened fighters. Hannah shrugged. “I guess we’re doing it the fun way.”

  The medicine man tried to rise to his feet, but Hannah sent her knife hurtling toward him. It sank deep into his arm just above the wrist, pinning him to the chair. He shrieked in pain, then yelled, “Kill the bitch.”

  Hannah spread her hands, forming two large swords of ice. The first Muur to test their sharpness lost his head within seconds.

  The rest attacked more cautiously. They towered over her, muscles rippling beneath their fur, but Hannah wasn’t concerned with size. After all, she had been trained by Karl from the Heights.

  The fight was a blur of slashing ice and singed fur as Hannah switched tactics and spells seamlessly. While the Muur were well armed—and knew how to use their weapons—they were unaccustomed to fighting one blessed by the gods.

  She caught a spear that was thrust toward her, and with a flash of her eyes she turned the shaft to dust. As the cat-man stared in awe, she grabbed the now-floating blade from the air and stabbed him through where she imagined his heart was.

  Whether or not she hit the organ, the Muur fell into a pool of his own blood.

  Hannah took a breath, then looked around the room. Dead and dying Muur were everywhere, and once she had assessed that none of them would be a threat, she turned to the main event.

  The Muur medicine man had watched in horror as Hannah disassembled his people. He saw that the fight was lost, and knew he needed to run. He grabbed the knife’s hilt and pulled upward, hissing in pain, but just as the knife left his wound a leather boot came down on it, pinning him once again.

  Hannah smiled as his scream rose in pitch.

  “Good, you’re not afraid to show when you’re in pain. That will make this easier,” she said as she leaned in close to his face. “I have one, and only one, question. Where is the antidote? Tell me the truth and I’ll let you go. Lie to me or refuse to answer and you’ll be in for one hell of a night.”

  The Muur tried to calculate his odds of escape, but the pain was making it hard to think. If this odd woman was telling the truth and she let him go, the Muur elders would tear him limb from limb for betraying a village secret. If he denied her request, she might tear him limb from limb anyway.

  Not an ideal choice to make.

  It left him only one option.

  He lunged forward, swiping his free hand toward her face. His claws were like razors, and they would have shredded her skin off if she hadn’t seen this move coming.

  Hannah dodged backward and caught the paw midair. The Muur tried to pull it away, but Hannah held on. Her grip was like a vice.

 
She eyed the claws carefully, then smiled.

  With a swift kick, she snapped the Muur’s elbow and plunged his claws into his chest.

  His eyes went wide with shock.

  “Let me guess,” she said. “Your claws here are laced with poison—the same poison that’s killing my friend. And now it’s killing you.”

  She didn’t have to read his mind to see the truth. He began to shake, and the fur around his eyes turned white.

  “I hear this stuff works fast,” she said, “so I’ll only ask once more. Where is the antidote?”

  “There. It’s there,” he cried, his eyes locked onto a chest near the wall.

  She went to the chest, broke the lock with her boot, and lifted the lid. Inside the wooden box was a bouquet of dry flowers and a vial filled with what looked like water.

  “Please,” he begged. “Crush two petals in the water, then bring me the drink.”

  She did as he said, then brought the vial to him. “Prove it.” Her words were like ice.

  She lifted the vial to his mouth, and he drank greedily. Almost at once the color returned to his face.

  Hannah grabbed her knife and pulled it free. He grunted and fell forward.

  She looked at the knife, then back at him.

  “We...we had a deal,” he growled. “I gave you what you wanted. Now let me go.”

  She nodded. “Door’s that way. You have ten seconds to get out of my sight.”

  He climbed to his feet and limped quickly toward the door. With one arm broken, and the other sliced through, it was a feat for him to grab the handle.

  He pulled the large door open, but before heading outside he turned back with a wicked grin.

  “Your friend... If he was poisoned by us, he’s already dead.”

  “I doubt that,” Hannah said, “but I’m glad you stuck around to meet another friend of mine.”

  The Muur turned and found himself face to face with a dragon.

  “Th-that’s impossible,” he managed to stutter just before Sal ripped out his throat.

  Hannah smiled. “That’s my boy. Now come over here and help me find a bag or something for these flowers. We’ve got to find Vitali, then get the hell out of here.”

  ****

  Laurel paced lap after lap around the perimeter of the Lynqi infirmary. Being relegated to staying in the tiny village while Hannah went on the mission and Parker lay dying on a cot in this foreign land drove her crazy. She had done what she could for Parker; the rest was in Hannah’s hands.

  Ever since they had landed in Kaskara, she had felt helpless. Her gifts were no good here, and although she could still kick ass with her rope blade, she felt like she was just a waste of space.

  The way the people of the village stared at her made her even less comfortable. If they only knew that in her world it was they who were the freaks, not her, maybe things would have been different. She could only assume that hairless people were a rarity in this part of the universe.

  Tired of walking, she stepped back into the infirmary. The place was abuzz with activity. Even with their intervention, the Lynqi fight against the Muur had left many injured and a few dead. Some of the cat-people were conscious, and she knew that meant that they hadn’t been struck with the poison now coursing through Parker’s veins. But others were comatose and quickly dying, like her friend.

  “Coming through.” A soft but strong voice rang out behind her.

  Laurel stepped to the right as a cart pushed by a young Lynqi woman buzzed by. Laurel still couldn’t figure the cat-people out, but this one was altogether lovely. Her fur was smooth, and it glowed with a sheen brighter than all the others. Her yellow eyes were brilliant, surrounded by lines of concern for her comrades.

  It took Laurel a second to get past her beauty and realize that her arm was bound tightly to her chest in a sling. That was when she realized that the woman had fought by their side against the Muur.

  Once she delivered the supplies, she approached Laurel. “Sorry if I was curt.”

  “Cat?”

  “No, curt.”

  Laurel smiled. “Sorry, bad joke. And it’s no problem. I know you’re just doing your job.” She glanced at the young woman’s arm. “This is not the first warzone I’ve been in.” Laurel gestured toward the bodies in cots around the infirmary. “Cleaning up after a fight is a real shit show.”

  The woman let out a sigh. “Tell me about it.” She extended her good hand toward Laurel. “I’m Illah.”

  Grabbing the furry hand, Laurel squeezed gently. “Laurel, which suddenly sounds altogether unexotic.”

  Laughing, the woman said, “Not to me, it doesn’t. I guess foreignness breeds fascination. Laurel… What does it mean?”

  “Pretty sure it means ‘shrub,’ which now that I say it out loud is completely unattractive. And you? What does Illah mean?”

  The woman looked at her feet and then back up. “Um… Beautiful goddess.”

  Laurel laughed. “Guess your parents had pretty high standards.”

  “Yeah, if only I could do some goddess work in here,” she said, motioning at the wounded and unconscious. “Hey, do you want to go outside? Go for a walk or something? I could use some air and a little break. There’s nothing I can do for them now. It’s mostly a waiting game.”

  Laurel’s eyes brightened. “Love to. Let’s go.”

  The women left the infirmary and stepped into the cool evening air. The unfamiliar chirping of the dusk creatures surrounded Laurel, reminding her just how far from home she was. They silently walked down a broad path between a row of houses, both allowing the tension of the day’s events to loosen its hold on their minds and bodies.

  Finally Laurel broke the silence. “What’s up with those other bastards, anyway?”

  “The Muur?” Illah asked.

  “Yeah, I guess. Listen, assume I know nothing here, because I pretty much do.”

  “I thought as much,” Illah responded. “But when we’re done talking about them, I want you to tell me what the hell it’s like to walk around with no hair on your body.”

  Laurel pulled her ponytail. “Hey, I have hair.”

  The tufts of hair on the side of Illah’s face stood on end, a sign of embarrassment. Illah said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. It’s just that I—”

  “No big deal. I was joking. And where I’m from, even if I had a gorgeous coat like yours? Let’s just say the men would want me to get a good wax job.”

  The two women laughed together, realizing just how different even the simplest things in their lives were.

  “So, about those furry asshats. Who are they?” Laurel asked again.

  “The way our story goes, we were once all the same. The glavne, our leader, calls them cousins, and I guess there might be something to that. As far back as I’ve ever known, they’ve been nothing to us but sworn enemies. They are certainly stronger than us, but it’s really their cruelty that gives them the upper hand.”

  “You mean their poison?”

  She nodded. “Among other things. The Lynqi tend to be faster. At least, we’ve had to become this way in order to survive. Lately we spend more time running from conflict with them than running toward it. Vitali thinks this is a mistake. He says that with enough cunning and courage, we could hand their—what did you say? Asshats?—to them.”

  Laurel laughed. “Well, I called them asshats. Must be an Arcadian thing.”

  Illah scrunched her little dark nose. “Another funny word. It goes along with your funny gifts. Are you a magician, like the other one?”

  “Like Hannah? I wish! Hannah is basically a magical badass. I’m a druid, which means I have some magical skills of my own, but they’re not really up to par at the moment. But it’s OK. My rope blade works just fine.”

  They walked quietly for a while, skirting the edge of the village and the perimeter of the jungle. Laurel pushed her hand out, letting it glide over the giant leaves of the lower growth. “What are these?” she finally asked, lo
oking at how they stretched up toward the jungle’s canopy. The greatest of them was taller than Laurel herself.

  “Aloca. It is the most common of the jungle plants,” Illah answered.

  Laurel stopped and took time, feeling the veins that stretched out from the stalk toward the jagged crescent-shaped edge.

  “They’re beautiful,” she whispered as she rubbed the thick plant between her thumb and forefinger.

  Illah shrugged. “I guess.”

  Laurel leaned in and sniffed it. “Not poisonous, is it?”

  “Don’t think so. I mean, we have plenty to eat at our hut if you—” She paused as she watched the foreigner lick the surface of the plant before tearing off the tiniest corner and popping it in her mouth. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Getting to know your neighbors,” Laurel smiled. “Like I said, I practice nature magic, but my power comes from familiarity with the plants and animals around us. Right now I don’t know any of this stuff.” She motioned toward the thick jungle surrounding them.

  “Gods, that was why you couldn’t do anything in the fight,” Illah said with her hand over her mouth.

  Laurel patted the rope blade at her side. “I wouldn’t say ‘nothing,’ but you’re right. My magic hasn’t worked since I’ve been here. Not enough to make a difference, anyway.” She opened a hand and directed it, palm out, toward the leaf. Her green eyes glowed brighter as she moved her palm and fingers over the plant.

  The Lynqi gasped, her yellow cat-eyes growing wide, as the green plant responded to Laurel’s influence, moving in time with her hand. “There you go!” Illah said. “Now you can kick some Muur ass.”

  Eyes changing back to normal, Laurel smiled. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s not much, but it’s coming along. Teach me more.”

  ****

  Hannah gripped the leather bag to her stomach with one arm and wrapped the other under Sal’s neck, holding on for dear life. The city came into sight quickly, and Sal dove hard and fast. Hannah held her breath, hearing Vitali’s groans in her ear, and wondered if the dragon was going to kill them both.