Fallen

by Ivy Cross

  “No, I—Oh, I guess I do.” Her tiny mouth forms a perfect circle of surprise. “What the hell did those lizard guys put in me?”

  Some of the words she uses do not seem to fit the context. But it is clear she suffers some confusion. Perhaps, her fall from the sky realm has affected her ability to remember.

  Remembering myself, I dip my head back to the ground.

  I hear the goddess shuffling before me, and I stiffen slightly, anticipating her touch and proclamation.

  They do not come.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Her voice floats down from standing height now.

  “I await your touch, goddess.”

  “Uh… sure, I guess I can do that.”

  I feel the lightest of pressure as her delicate fingers press against my right shoulder. I wait a moment, but her decree does not come.

  Moments later, when her words still have not come, I rise to stand before her. Perhaps, not all parts of the stories are correct. Or maybe she judges me unworthy of her contract.

  “I’m Talia,” the goddess says, holding her arm out to me. “Thank you for your help.”

  I stoop at once and press my lips to the pale flesh of her hand. Her scent is beyond intoxicating, and I have to pry myself away from her.

  “Oh, I was going for a handshake, but that’ll work, I guess… Do, uh, do you have a name?”

  “I am called Dekkar,” I say, allowing my eyes to cast over her for the briefest of moments. Any longer, and I fear she could read my desire to see her out of those strange rags. Such impure thoughts are not suitable for one such as her.

  Not yet, at least.

  “Well, Dekkar, I hate to ask, seeing as you’ve already saved my life. But I could really use your help.”

  A smile curls my lips. The goddess’s decree comes now.

  Chapter 5 – Talia

  Dekkar hangs onto my every word like he’s listening for a secret code or something. But every time I glance up at his face, he looks quickly away like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

  As a compromise, I stare at his chest while I’m talking. Not a big sacrifice there. He’s ripped beyond all definition of the word and barely wearing any clothes to boot—just some primitive leathers to leave a little something to the imagination.

  Apart from the obvious sexiness, there are a few other things for me to study on Dekkar’s body. The whole front of his chest is covered in white paint in an odd geometrical pattern. The paint gleams like it’s still wet and covers a raised area on his skin in exactly the same pattern, as though it was burned into his flesh.

  “So, basically,” I continue, “that’s it. I just need to go after my friend who was taken by one of those things.” I gesture to the dead bodies on the ground. “Do you think you can help?”

  His eyes go to mine and, for once, they don’t immediately break away. “Of course. There is no question.”

  He drops to one knee and bows his head again. This time, I notice the swirling ridges that cover his back and stop just below his shoulders.

  “It this task is part of my goddess’s decree, then I will set out at once.” He raises his head, still kneeling. “I would like to take you back to the safety of my village but—”

  “No, I want to go too. I need to help Bailey if I can.” The thought of the other four escape pods, scattered to the four winds, fills my chest with a hollow ache, but I can only deal with one thing at a time. And I know what happened to Bailey and that she needs our immediate help.

  “It is just as well,” Dekkar says, standing. “Our leader would not welcome me back, because I disobeyed him. And I would not trust you to his care.”

  He reaches out and presses his large hand firmly against my chest. I choke back a startled squeak but manage to hold my ground, feeling a full-body blush that makes me wish I had packed some cooler clothes for this trip. I don’t think he’s trying to cop a feel, and I don’t want to insult any of his customs, no matter how intimate they might seem on the surface…

  His piercing green eyes keep flicking to my hand at my side, and I realize he is waiting for me to return the gesture.

  I tentatively press my palm against the middle of his chest and yank it back with a startled hiss. “Jesus, you’re as hot as a sunbaked sidewalk!”

  He stares at me with confusion in his eyes for a moment, likely because some of what I said didn’t translate properly. Finally, a look of understanding widens his eyes. “I have not yet come down from the battle fever.”

  I nod, as though that makes any sense, and touch his chest again. It’s still warm enough to make prolonged contact uncomfortable.

  A glint dances within his moss-colored eyes. “With that, our contract is sealed. We should set out before the last of the sun’s light is extinguished.”

  I nod my agreement, but Dekkar is already on the move, headed in the direction where I last saw Bailey. I scoop my trusty metal rod up from the ground and set off on Dekkar’s heels.

  Well, I try to, at least. I’m sucking in wheezing breaths and clutching my side before we even make it to the fallen trees where I first saw the beast guys.

  Dekkar turns back to find me losing ground. “You are injured, goddess Talia?”

  Goddess Talia. A jolt of needling guilt hits me, and the earnest look in Dekkar’s eyes doesn’t help matters. I know I should correct him and try to make him understand what really happened and how I came to be here. But as much of an asshole move as it is, I think I should wait to clear the whole sky goddess thing up after we find Bailey.

  It’s just a lie of omission, after all. And who knows if he would be as willing to help if he knew I was just an unlucky human who was snatched up from her quiet life of mediocrity.

  A human who could have very much have benefited from a gym membership.

  “No, I’m not hurt,” I reply, closing the distance between us now that he’s stopped moving. “You’re just a hell of a lot faster than me.”

  “I will carry you.”

  He moves to do just that, but I throw my hands up before he can grab ahold. “No, god no, it’s embarrassing enough to be this out of shape. I don’t think my fragile ego could take a piggyback ride right now. Maybe we could just go a little slower?”

  “We will go at your pace, my goddess.” He holds out a hand for me to take.

  When he threads his oddly warm fingers through mine, I can’t suppress the warm wave of embarrassment that floods into my chest. I’m sure, to him, the gesture is simply a way of gauging my speed and matching it. But there’s a definite feeling of playground romance in walking hand in hand next to the big guy.

  A part of me knows it’s silly to treat the situation as anything other than a matter of necessity, but it’s hard to convince my brain that something this intimate is completely platonic, especially when the top of my hand keeps brushing against his granite-hard thigh.

  “How can you tell if we’re going the right way?” I ask, wanting very much to have something other than the sound of my hand slapping against his flesh to focus on.

  “The Valat have an offensive odor,” Dekkar says.

  “Yeah, tell me about it.” Just the thought of Broken Mask’s smell turns my stomach.

  “I can follow the creature’s smell for this leg of our journey, but the Valat are fleetfooted and our quarry will extend its lead on us while it is still on the move.”

  We crunch across a dense carpet of brown circular leaves, and much of the light and heat of the day are sapped away by the thick canopy above us. The rich aroma of something like cinnamon and green tea makes my head spin and my stomach growl.

  Dekkar releases my hand and points toward what once might have been a game trail. There’s a worn rut in the mossy ground, but wispy vines snake out in all directions and half-grown saplings spike up at regular intervals.

  “Here we will move slower. You will not have difficulty keeping up.”

  “Are you sure they went this way?” I ask, staring at the overgrowth. �
�It doesn’t look like this trail has been used for a long time.”

  Dekkar walks over and drops to a knee near the start of the path. He motions for me to do the same.

  “Watch the wae moss.” He points to a section of the rich green plant.

  It takes me a minute, but eventually I see what he does. The feather-like tufts of the moss are in the process of springing back to their original positions, as though someone recently walked over them.

  “You saw that from all the way over there? Those are some pretty amazing eyes you’ve got.”

  A bright smile lights Dekkar’s stony face. “You do me great honor, goddess.”

  I smile back and ignore the goddess thing again, but my stomach chooses that moment to make a sound like an asthmatic tiger. I guess that Meow Mix from thirty or so hours ago isn’t going to cut it.

  Dekkar’s smile falters. “You are hungry?”

  “I could eat.”

  He stands quickly. “Then you shall.”

  Chapter 6 – Dekkar

  My hand trembles like a stripling’s as I set my sights on the brisna grazing on its fungus patch. I focus for a moment on my hand and the trembling stops. My mind is not truly focused on the hunt; not like it should be.

  The goddess shifts somewhere behind me, and once again my focus wavers. How could it not? A day that started with my false Proving and all that posturing from Regar has changed into something my people will sing of for ages.

  I level my spear again, but I force the smile from my lips. A Naia, freshly fallen from the heavens, has accepted me for her contract just like in the stories of old. There can be no doubt I will win the day for her and, when I do, she will be mine, and we will return to rule over the tribe. The Proving be damned.

  When the brisna slinks nearer to graze on more fungus, I let fly my spear. It strikes true into the beast’s heart, and the thud from its fall can be felt even where we stand.

  “My god… that thing looks like a cross between a bear and a boar.” The goddess creeps closer to my side, her small feet bringing voice to the dried leaves in her path.

  We walk to the beast, and I remove my spear from it, wiping the blood off on my leathers. “You know not of the brisna? How can this be?”

  “I… guess things are quite a bit different where I come from,” she says.

  I can see she is nervous from the way she continually shifts her weight and fidgets. She must fear for her friend.

  “I can sense your unease,” I say.

  “You—you can?”

  “Yes, and do not worry. We will continue our quest at the rise of tomorrow’s sun. The Valat will have to stop for the night as well, so we will lose no ground.”

  “Oh. That sounds just fine.” The relief in her voice is clear to hear.

  I hunker down over the kill.

  “I know little of your realm, goddess,” I say, pulling the blade from my side and seeing to the task of dressing the newly felled beast. “And what I do know is only from fairy stories passed down over the generations. You could tell me something of the Naia while I tend to our meal.”

  From the corner of my eye, I watch as the goddess skitters back when I pull the outer flesh and fur from the great brisna. I smile inwardly at her delicate nature.

  “Ah, I would like it more if you told me about yourself and your people,” she says after a moment’s hesitation. “I know even less about you than you know about the, ah, Naia.”

  Of course, the Naia would have no such stories of us lowly warriors. I curse inwardly at my dullness.

  “My people are the Vanthae. We are the greatest warriors this realm has ever seen.”

  She smiles at my words, and I feel a slight sense of embarrassment. All Vanthae warriors are raised to be the best and to believe we are the best. But such words must sound like idle boasting to the goddess’s ears.

  “What is your village called? And are there other villages of Vanthae around?”

  “My home is called Leiv—it means strongest in the ancestors’ tongue. And yes, there are many other tribal villages, but most are smaller and less robust than Leiv. We had nearly two hundred warriors at the last count.” It is difficult to keep the pride from showing in my voice. The last I heard, the largest of the other tribal sects numbered at fewer than one hundred strong.

  After seeing to the brisna, I clear a circle for the firepit and set about gathering tinder and wood. I watch as Talia joins in the process gathering the small dry twigs from among the leaves. After a moment, I have to stop and admire her work as she peels the dried moss from one of the fallen trees.

  “You have a good eye,” I say, as she drops her bundle in the cleared circle. “That will burn well.”

  “Most of my family was into glamping, at best. But I was always a bit of a tomboy. It didn’t do me any favors with the boys, but who’s laughing now?”

  Much of what she says is understandable and in the tongue of my people, but some of her words fail to come across, and I cannot understand why anyone would be laughing…

  With the fire painting our little circle in brilliant strokes of orange and red, and the steaks just beginning to sizzle on their spit, I lean back against the trunk of a nearby tree and rest. There is no pain from the wound in my thigh, and the flesh has already begun to knit without any aid. But I am surprised by how weary I feel on the whole.

  Perhaps it is more a mental weariness than a physical one. This day has been like none before.

  Talia’s delicate nostrils flare, taking in the scent of the roasting meat. As graceful as that gesture is, the sound issuing from her stomach could rival the growl of a fully grown alderwere…

  “What do you call this world?” Talia asks, yawning through the last half of her question.

  “I do not understand the question.” I reach across and turn the meat over the fire.

  “This.” She waves her tiny arms at the forest around us. “All of this—this place. What do you call your world?”

  “It is the Vanthae,” I reply, shaking my head in confusion. “We are the Vanthae.” How could one such as her not understand something so fundamental? Her questions have had a childlike quality to them, sure. But what she asks now is akin to not knowing whether to walk upon one’s feet or one’s hands.

  “But how can everything be Vanthae?” She picks up a loose stone and holds it out to me. “This is Vanthae, too?”

  “Our oldest of ancestor’s arose in this place—from this place.” I smack my hand against the soft moss at my side. “If this is the hand, then we are the fingers. But still parts of the same thing.”

  “I—I guess that makes sense,” she says after a few moments.

  A quality in her voice makes me question her statement, but it may simply be her longing for the brisna steak.

  “But you called the creature we’re after a Valat.” She points to the roasting meat. “And this is a brisna… How are they not Vanthae, too?”

  The small furrow of curiosity between her pale eyes makes her even sexier, and I have to turn my gaze back to the fire to keep from rushing over and making a fool of myself. The most maddening part of this is knowing she has already chosen me—found me worthy of her decree. But I know I must fulfill my part of the bargain before we can be mated.

  “No answer for that one, eh?”

  “My apologies, goddess,” I reply, rising to gather our food. “I became lost in my thoughts.”

  I tear a morsel of the tender steak from the spit, wrap it in a recently fallen leaf, and hand it to Talia.

  Clear juices run from the sides of her mouth as she digs in, not even waiting for the meat to cool.

  I have aided my goddess in her time of distress, fed her hunger, and now I will fulfill the quest she has set for me. The swell of my heart in my chest makes the thought of food almost unnecessary.

  Still, I tear off a hunk of meat for myself and enjoy it along with the enticing show in front of me. After a moment, I remember the question she asked.

  “They
are Vanthae,” I say.

  “What?” she asks from around a large bite of steak.

  “You asked why this brisna and the Valat are not Vanthae,” I reply. “Just like this fire and the sky above us, they are Vanthae. We are all parts of the same thing.”

  Chapter 7 – Talia

  I feel like if I fall over, my overly engorged stomach will pop me right back up like one of those clown balloon punching bags I used to beat the crap out of as a kid.

  I sink down into the moss next to the fire, opposite Dekkar on the other side. The forest creaks and chirps with a million unfamiliar sounds, and the light of the day is completely gone, making the red glow of the fire the only brightness in a sea of black.

  But I’m not afraid to fall asleep, not with Dekkar so near. It’s not just that he seems like he could kick the ass of a stampeding rhino, it’s that I’m pretty sure he’d die before letting something hurt me. I can see it every time he looks at me, and it’s making me feel a hell of a lot more guilty than I thought it would.

  I’m taking advantage of whatever primitive mythos his kind have about goddesses falling from the heavens and, even if it doesn’t get him hurt or killed, he’s not going to be happy when he finds out the truth.

  A soft sigh escapes my lips, and I turn to see if it disturbed Dekkar. His chest rises and falls so slowly it takes a few seconds before I’m sure he’s even breathing. Painted in the soft, warm colors of the fire, he still doesn’t exactly look peaceful—there are too many brutal angles to his features and physique for that. But, in his slumber, there is a less guarded quality to his expression that makes him look even more ruggedly handsome.

  I yawn deeply and roll back over, letting the spongey moss nestle me. It’s doubtful I’ll be able to get any real sleep after the day—and week—I’ve had, but it can’t hurt to shut my eyes and try to rest.

  The loud sound of a snapping twig brings me bolt upright.

  “I am sorry for disturbing you, goddess.”