Wilderness Untamed

by Butler, J. M.

  14

  Darkness and Lizards

  AaQar plummeted into darkness. It continued on and on without end. Falling. Falling. Falling. With one thought repeating over and over: they were dead.

  All had been lost. Again.

  What good was any of what they sought if those whom they loved perished in flame, pestilence, apathy, and cruelty?

  The falling sensation stopped. Yet he remained suspended in the darkness. Reaching out, he felt nothing. Not beneath his hands. Not beneath his feet.

  The only other sensation was the sound of water dripping. Big fat droplets. They rang out as if striking smooth obsidian.

  Something cold and wet struck him between the eyes. He jolted back. When he reached up to strike at it though, the tentacle had vanished.

  "AaQar." A soft distinctively smooth alto reached his ears.

  His skin prickled in response, goosebumps rising and hairs lifting. Her name passed from his lips before he could catch himself. "Rasha?"

  The dripping sound continued. A small silver cone of light appeared before him. Just beyond it was the tall figure of a woman in flowing garments, her head hooded and veiled.

  AaQar looked about the arena of his mind. It suddenly seemed as if he were standing on a smooth floor. Perhaps stone. There were tapestries here, each representing a memory. Usually that meant that there was a Neyeb involved in this somehow. But there weren't any of the other indicators. This was far more like a dream. The cold muteness of this place cut against anything more than that. That and the presence of his wife.

  He stepped closer to the figure. "Rasha..." The mixture of emotions tightened his chest and choked him. Anger flickered within his mind, but the sight of her, even shrouded and distant, filled him with such desire he could almost forget what she had done.

  Almost.

  "Rasha." He circled toward her. She remained just beyond the light, her posture impeccable, her hands folded before her. She wore the grey silk and velvet gown in which he had last seen her, the dark sapphire pendant gleaming in the dip at the base of her neck. He had gotten that for her decades ago, a token of love with a chain woven from the fallen scales of a prism dragon. No matter how far around the circle he strode, she always appeared on the other side of the light.

  The old pain and sorrow swelled with each step, but he could not stay away. Not even as she remained out of his reach. "Rasha." His voice shook.

  She turned her head toward his voice. Beneath the veil he glimpsed her face. Her eyes sparkled, brilliant amethyst today. They had been darker the last time he had seen her, yet the fire in them reminded him of her strength. Cold. Cunning. Ferocious... Haggard?

  That was not how he remembered her. Not how he had ever seen her. Not even when she had given birth to their son while in battle. Not even when she had gone five days without sleeping. Not even when she had battled seven cabiza mothers all on her own, more than a dozen stingers piercing her shoulders, waist, and hips.

  Yet it was her. He was certain of it. There was something in her eyes that hid behind the life, a weariness, an exhaustion. Perhaps she missed him.

  That was almost too good to be possible.

  All these years, he had wondered how he would really respond to seeing her again. What would he feel? She'd never visited him even in dreams. But at this moment, he knew he needed her. To hear the truth. To learn the reasons. To touch her. Hold her. Kiss her.

  "AaQar." She canted her head to the left, lifting her chin. "It has been too long."

  Something held him back from embracing her or even drawing closer. The dripping intensified. This wasn't a dream exactly. But it wasn't anything he recognized either. Everything was just a little bit off.

  The muscles along the back of his neck and his shoulders tightened, his spine stiffening. "Why are you here?"

  "I've wanted to see you for so long." She turned her body now. Her movements were uneven at first, as if she were gaining the use of her body for the first time in ages. "They've tried to reach you before. But it didn't work. Not until now."

  "What didn't work? Why didn't it work?" He faced her. His heart thundered within him like a stampede of besreds through the mountains. "Rasha..."

  She stretched out her hand. It was as he remembered it the last time he had seen her with a freckle positioned dead in the center, her fingernails long and painted the color of shimmering opals. Her fingers splayed as she reached for him.

  He first recoiled, then stepped closer. He curled his fingers tight against his palm, desperate to touch her and not touch her at once. The dream continued, throbbing in his ears. "You are not real."

  "I am as real to you as I will ever be again in this lifetime." The weary melodic tone of her voice hummed in his ears, filling his mind. "I have longed to see you again, veskare."

  He swallowed. A rumbling vibration stirred at the edge of his consciousness, seeking to draw him back. He ignored it and focused harder on Rasha. "I have longed to see you since the day you left."

  She drew closer, practically gliding. Now, full in the light, he could see her better. She lifted the veil, then let it fall aside as if it were nothing.

  He continued. "Just as I have longed to touch you."

  She was as she had been from the moment of the locking—the definition of beauty, grace, and desire. His body responded to her despite the betrayal. Despite what should have been pure rage. Instead all he found within himself was longing and need. Somehow he found himself at the edge of that light.

  He breathed out. "To hold you."

  She grasped his hand in hers. Her touch was warm, real, strong, growing clearer with each moment. She stared deep into his eyes as she pulled him closer.

  Casting aside all his concerns and restraints, he caught her in his arms and held her close. No dream had ever felt so real. That was a warning. The dripping grew louder. That was a warning too. But he held her all the tighter. "Veskaro." He closed his eyes.

  * * *

  Amelia picked up Naatos's spear, watching as Naatos became a black dragon and flew toward the distress call. Another ragged bellow echoed out over the grasslands.

  Who was it? The deep roar of pain could have been either QueQoa or WroOth. When she squinted, she glimpsed vague forms battling on the horizon. Two dark shapes, dragon-like in form, and a third equally large one as well as several smaller ones.

  Barking calls sounded from within the tall grass. She backed to the center, her own sense of danger increasing.

  AaQar lay flat on his back, pale and clammy.

  She circled him, gripping the spear tight. Naatos had at least left the spear with a traditional spearhead rather than one of the more unusual blade combinations. It was still at the ideal height for him, which made it more cumbersome for her. But she had done some work with spears and javelins, and the length would help her keep whatever predators dared to show themselves at bay. At least for a bit. If it weren't for the rels though, she suspected she would be in a far graver situation.

  An uncomfortable premonition warned her that things were about to get worse.

  She stabbed the spear into the ground, butt first. Then she circled the area, studying the terrain and what resources she had available. There were a few large boulders, a small copse of tall grass in the center—though little more than a thick armful of grass and reeds—and some pebbles. Oh, and of course, the incredibly deep hole Naatos had just finished digging.

  She walked along the side of the pit and peered down. It slanted a little to the left, but otherwise, it was a straight shot. At least a hundred feet. Probably deeper.

  She paced back to AaQar then, crouched beside him, and made a pillow of her satchel for his head. "If you could wake up, that would be good."

  More angry and wounded bellows followed. The dark forms in the sky were closer now, though rather indistinguishable from one another. Naatos, WroOth, and QueQoa battled the larger form and smaller alike, but their victory did not appear assured.

  Whatever it was, the
creature battled with tremendous ferocity. The smaller beasts swooped and dove like red-winged blackbirds against a trio of hawks. One of the brothers was struggling. He kept dropping down, his right wing ragged even from this distance.

  Amelia circled again. The anxious energy built within her. More barks and calls rippled out from the tall grasses around them. She checked her gun and then her knife as well. Both were ready. She circled once more. Then she picked up AaQar's staff and WroOth's club and placed them against the boulder.

  The grasses rustled.

  A large amber eye blinked at her from the depths of the grass. It slid back into the golden depths.

  Amelia picked up the spear again, trusting it more than her gun. It had been clear how ineffective her gun was without having an exposed weak point.

  Whatever lizards were in the grass, she doubted that they would be easier to kill with a gun than that centipede. Not unless she got an excellent angle up their mouths into their brains. The problems with predators like this was that there was typically only one way that one got access to that angle. And getting swallowed was not something she ever wanted to experience.

  A large lizard head, similar to an anaconda except much larger, pressed out of the grass. Amelia stared into its amber eyes, the spear gripped tight in her hands. Its blue tongue flicked in and out faster than before.

  The creature moved out farther and farther. Its enormous head was the size of a small car though its eyes were no larger than oranges. It moved along the edge of the circle, crushing the grass. As the lizard stretched out farther and farther, she remained frozen. Partially because she understood that many lizards hunted based on vision, partially in shock as she realized that the lizard had arms.

  It reached into the circle. She struggled to process this. It had fingers! Fingers that wiggled, which was almost more horrifying than if they had been claws.

  Was it a lizard? A long-necked lizard perhaps?

  She watched as the creature continued to slither out. It had nearly ten feet of neck before its arms sprouted. Large, abnormally muscular lizard arms. No legs emerged, even as more of it continued to emerge around the broad circle.

  She remained motionless, the spear at the ready. Though its gaze flicked to her, it seemed to be taking in the entirety of the circle. It swayed its head back and forth, up and down, dipping in and out.

  The brush directly ahead of her parted. A narrow creature, similar to a velociraptor and about as tall as her waist, stepped out. It chirred as it sniffed at the air. When the legless lizard circled around, the creature froze as well. Even its coal-black eyes were motionless.

  The legless lizard did not even glance at the creature. Its yellow-and-brown striped hide made it blend into the grasses, both tall and short. The legless lizard turned its head. It towered more than eight feet over the ground, its head slanting to the side. Its tongue flushed darker blue. Then, with no further warning, its mouth snapped open, the tongue shot out, and snatched the motionless lizard off the ground and into its fanged jaws.

  The tongue had curled around its body like a lasso, catching it when it had been a full ten feet away.

  Her mouth fell open as she stared in horror. She stepped closer to AaQar, grateful that they were at least near to the center of the circle.

  The legless lizard resumed its ambling journey around the circle. It narrowed its eyes as it watched her, its pupil a vertical slit of dark contemplation. It carried with it an oily musky scent, tinged faintly with blood. Blood stained its jaws.

  She glanced once more into the sky. More dark forms had swooped in. They seemed closer now. Not by much though. The wounded brother flew lower in the sky. Wave after wave of dark shapes pounded down on him. The other two tackled the larger forms, tearing into them and snatching up the smaller ones when they could. But from here, the battle did not look as if it was going well.

  AaQar likewise did not appear to be regaining consciousness. Which meant that she was going to have to sort this situation on her own.

  The legless lizard's head swayed back and forth. It turned its head once more, then reached out into the circle. Its alarmingly long fingers wriggled in the air, curved claws gleaming grey-blue in the golden light.

  What was it doing?

  She adjusted her grip on the spear.

  The lizard glided around the circle.

  Wait… she frowned. Was it in the circle? Just a little bit?

  The lizard turned its head. Its tongue turned blue again, then, almost lazily, the tongue snapped out. It struck a few feet away from AaQar's boot.

  She gasped.

  The tongue curled around the rock and pulled it back, but the legless lizard dropped it before it reached its mouth. With a quick shake of its head, the lizard resumed its course.

  The tongue wasn't sticky. It didn't have the right saliva.

  Good.

  That was… that was something.

  And the last bit of good news.

  It was coming into the circle, little bit by little bit. And obviously the rels weren't enough to keep it from shooting that horrible tongue in. Even if it couldn't get all the way in, all it had to do was press in a few feet more, and it would get AaQar. It moved steadily, quick enough that she would have to keep a brisk pace to maintain distance. And if she were dragging AaQar…

  She set the spear down and seized AaQar by the shoulders. He definitely was heavier than when he was in the palace. How had he gained that much weight that fast? It shouldn't be possible. Yet here he was. Heavier than a grown man had any business being when he looked this lean.

  She huffed, frustrated and frightened. There was no way that she could drag him along while maintaining the pace for any length of time. And if another lizard or creature arrived with similar abilities, then they'd really be in trouble.

  Standing, she picked up the spear again.

  This was more than enough trouble for her.

  The legless lizard continued, its pale tongue flicking in and out as calmly as if it were out for a morning stroll. It wasn't in a hurry. Why should it be?

  She adjusted her grip on the spear, wracking her brain for a solution that didn't involve leaving AaQar to be eaten. Based on the look of that battle in the sky, Naatos was already straining to protect two of his brothers. And she couldn't risk knocking herself unconscious with the mindreading.

  Realistically, she needed to get AaQar out of the way. He wasn't waking. He was easy prey. Even easier than she.

  The pit.

  It was the only answer.

  She spun the plan through her mind as the lizard continued to make its way around the circle.

  It was risky. Her guts clenched at the thought of even attempting this. But no other solution presented itself.

  The large creature moved slowly around the perimeter of the short grass. The tall grass spread flat before it, crackling and popping as if it were straw. It ducked in and out of the remaining tall grass, swaying as if to its own music.

  Within ten minutes, it would be in the center of the circle. Its tongue would be capable of reaching them much sooner.

  She had to act swiftly.

  She dragged AaQar to the edge of the pit. Naatos had said AaQar could survive falling. Given how relaxed he was, his odds were probably even better now. Not that she wanted to test that if there was any other choice.

  Using AaQar's belt, she wrapped it around his arms and the spear, leaving enough slack so that though he would hang, he could get free if he returned to consciousness. She then removed his hunting knives and wedged the spear into the pit. The lizard twisted its head as it studied her.

  How smart was that creature?

  Smart enough to know how to press the boundaries of the rels and gradually adapt itself to the potent repellent.

  If it saw her put AaQar in the pit, it might figure out how to get him out.

  Picking up one of the smaller stones, Amelia lobbed it out of the circle. It took three more to gain the lizard's interest. By the fourth,
the creature tilted its head, then ambled into the grass in pursuit, its tongue flicking back and forth with lazy interest. As soon as it was out of sight, she pushed AaQar into the pit.

  For one heart-stopping moment, the spear swayed. The black stone did not sag or bend. And though AaQar swung like some unbalanced marionette, he did not fall. The spear itself seemed secure, having more than a foot on either side to keep him suspended.

  She ran to the small copse of long grass in the middle of the circle. With the hunting knife, she cut through it. Then she ran back to the pit, dropped her own stick over the top, and spread the tall grasses over the opening. The yellow fibers snagged against one another. Their length and coarseness were sufficient to cover the top of the pit without being so heavy or thick as to block the air flow.

  The creature slid back out of the tall grass. It dipped its head forward as if in greeting, its eyes sly and watchful.

  She picked up AaQar's staff. When the legless lizard reached into the circle, Amelia flicked the wire whip at the end. It sliced through the air, nicking the creature's hand.

  It winced and pulled back. No blood appeared on its hand though. Its eyes narrowed. The tongue turned blue.

  Amelia leaped behind the largest of the boulders.

  The tongue shot out, striking the ground where she had just stood.

  The legless lizard resumed slithering around the circle, moving faster now. Its eyes gleamed. More chirps and barks sounded within the tall grass. The tops waved. More creatures were coming. And the legless lizard had made up for lost time.

  Amelia adjusted her grip on the staff, gritting her teeth together. One more glance into the sky confirmed that Naatos, QueQoa, and WroOth were struggling to battle the creatures attacking them. The wounded one was flying lower still. And all their efforts appeared to be doing little to stem the flow of rage the creatures poured upon them.

  This was going to be a very challenging battle. And from the looks of it, she was going to have to handle it on her own.