Wilderness Untamed

by Butler, J. M.

  She returned to the fire, contemplative. Knowing AaQar there had to be a reason he did it this way. For now though, she had more important things to handle, such as research before the dolmaths came.

  She dragged one of the smaller boulders over beside the large one and used it to boost herself up, book in hand, blanket around her shoulders.

  The old thick book comforted her. She had read a fair bit in her days on Earth, mostly nonfiction. Accounts regarding portals and missing persons and bright lights and unexplained occurrences. But the fiction had comforted her far more, especially during the late nights when she had been unable to sleep and wanted to escape and pretend that there was the possibility of a life beyond this one.

  A life beyond this one?

  Her stomach clenched, and a painful spasm shuddered through her. The stories she'd loved most were simple and beautiful. Until Shon, she had not seriously considered whether there was a possibility for her to have a life more than this destiny. Now the question reasserted itself.

  She hugged the book to her chest, staring down at the sleep trenches and the fire pits. Smoke coiled above them and drifted to the south. What could life be here like? Assuming everyone survived.

  She shook her head as she opened the book. The fading daylight and the soft light of the fire provided enough to allow for easy reading, but she had to fight to focus. Her mind kept skirting around the words, not fully grasping them until she went over them a third and fourth time.

  The one bit of good news was that this book contained whole chapters concerning dreamweaving and dreamwalking among other Neyeb skills. She made note of these and went on to search for chapters on traumas and fears, overcoming them. This too, like a few other subjects, appeared to be scattered throughout and plentiful in resources but poorly coordinated in the index.

  The general concept for addressing trauma revolved around creating space in the mind, building walls and shields through focus among other things. The most common base involved finding a series of memories which showed the opposite of the trauma, a conquering of the fear. That was something she could use.

  She had only just started to strain to see when AaQar and WroOth brought QueQoa back. The abscess in his shoulder and side had healed mostly, but the skin around it remained flushed. A few veins remained prominent.

  "How often does that need to be done?" Amelia slipped her thumb in the book to mark her place. QueQoa was a big man.

  "Naatos will move him," AaQar said.

  "And if the ilzinium claims Naatos as well? Will it be enough if I pour the suphrite over it?"

  "It will suffice." AaQar returned to the pot of soup and resumed stirring. "But pouring suphrite over is more painful. Also, you will need to rinse any wounds with fresh water to ensure that it is cleaned out."

  WroOth continued pacing, his breath a low hiss as he wove between the fires. He paused by the smokehouse, shored up the fire, and then returned to pacing.

  Amelia tried to read a little more, but then, amid the woodsmoke, she caught that sesame seed scent.

  She stiffened.

  Like a blanket of multi-legged blue fur, the dolmaths rose over the hill and descended upon the camp. Her gut clenched, and her nerves sparked with terror. Though her breaths quickened, she steadied herself on the top of the rock, book pressed firmly beneath her hand. They scurried about, over a dozen clustering around QueQoa and massaging his wound and examining his shoulder. AaQar allowed a few to scale him.

  She grabbed the staff and pushed two off the boulder. If only they would come one at a time and hang back so she could get used to them. At least she wasn't punching at them or lashing out. Progress. Small progress.

  One climbed up and tapped her ankle. She nearly leaped into the branch above.

  WroOth hopped up on the boulder easily and scooped the dolmath off before she could swat it away. "There we go."

  She kept the staff lifted high, startled at how much WroOth changed in that moment. It was as if he realized that he was needed, and so he became who he needed to be. The smile didn't reach his eyes all the way, but he was trying. He moved to the far edge of the boulder and sat crosslegged. "This seems like a friendly one." He glanced up at her and grinned, both hands on the dolmath. "Whenever you're ready."

  Amelia's breaths came tighter. "It shouldn't be this hard," she said tightly. She lowered the staff as she stared at the large blue creature with velvet-soft fur. Its bright eyes were wide and eager. Shudders fought through her as the screaming inside continued.

  "Whether it should or shouldn't be doesn't matter. It is, and you'll get through."

  She flexed her fingers and then knotted them against her palm. "I used to have tarantulas. Four."

  "You kept tarantulas?" He grinned, still holding the dolmath but keeping it from getting any closer to her. The furry creature tapped at the air with its legs. "It is hard to imagine. But what did you feed them, dear heart? I cannot see you giving them helpless little mice."

  There had been a brief attempt at that when Uncle Joe had brought some to her and tentatively suggested it. But no… those baby mice had become her babies too. Short-lived though they were. It had been hard enough to give them the crickets. She shuddered as she pulled her hand back, unable to pet the dolmath. "Crickets don't feel pain. Neither do roaches."

  "Do worms?"

  "Yes, actually. Though scientists don't think they can suffer. There's a difference between experiencing pain and suffering and understanding it. Not that they should be tortured."

  WroOth shook his head, his smile quirked and crooked. "You really couldn't kill baby mice?"

  "Could you?"

  "Is this a trick question?"

  "I know you think I'm pathetic."

  He chuckled. "I don't think you're pathetic. I think you're… ridiculously soft-hearted for someone who is supposed to do what you're supposed to do."

  "I'll kill when I have to. I can do it. I just don't like doing it. I eat meat too. It doesn't mean I feel good about butchering. Predators need meat. Even eating vegetables and harvesting fields causes a loss of life. We can't have life without death and loss. Life is hard. And uncomfortable. And unpleasant."

  But there were also good memories. Sorrow could be great, but it didn't fully wash those good memories away.

  She had cried at her tarantulas' deaths as well. No amount of time was ever long enough for any animal one loved. Her many-legged darlings had lasted far longer than anyone expected, and she had loved them more than she could ever have guessed.

  Love was powerful. And miserable.

  But there in that knot of grief were memories she seized. Even as she shuddered inwardly, and the fear crept up the back of her throat like bile, she latched onto those feelings. How much she had loved them. Their distinct personalities. Their quiet exploration. Their light play. Reading from a book with one of them crawling across the page or tapping lightly up her shoulder.

  How bristly and odd their feet had been at first. How strange the fur on their bodies and legs. How bizarre and unnerving their eyes.

  Could she ever feel anything like that for dolmaths?

  Each time she tried to look at it fully, fear coursed through her and threatened to unleash a torrent of emotions, the memories of the hook-fanged spiders threatening to consume her.

  WroOth sat there, still holding the dolmath and soothing it but not allowing it any closer. His gaze had grown soft and distant, not really on her but on some quieter memory of his own.

  She whispered another prayer, then set about trying to touch the dolmath again. It tried to catch at her fingers.

  "See," WroOth said lightly, rousing as if he had started to drift off. "It is like a cat."

  "I'm never going to trust any animal comparison you make ever again," she said, forcing a weak laugh.

  "Trust me, dear heart. Very soon, you're going to be snuggling with them as if they were a passel of kittens. And unlike kittens, they don't have sharp little claws to cut you into pieces as they
knead your stomach."

  "I'd rather have a pack of cats invading our camp each night."

  "I wouldn't object so long as the cats could put all of the other predators to sleep as well."

  "That would be a good compromise," Amelia admitted. She fought to get closer to the dolmath, but each time it touched her accidentally or she nearly brushed her hand over it, the terror bolted back up. Her mouth went dry, and her head throbbed more and more as the night sludged on.

  Twice she had to pull back as panic attacks slammed through her. But she didn't leave the boulder, and she didn't knock WroOth or the dolmath off.

  AaQar relieved WroOth halfway through the night. He didn't say much, but he kept the dolmath steady, scratching it at the base of the head with light slow strokes. In that silence though, there was the purring of the dolmaths and QueQoa's nightmare-torment. She had to stay focused. She had to find a way through. And she would. Even if it took every ounce of strength she had.

  26

  Dolmaths

  The sky was just beginning to lighten with the dawn's light when the rush of wings and a heavy thud announced Naatos's return. WroOth had switched places with AaQar about an hour before. He sat with her now, dolmath still held and soothed.

  AaQar passed Amelia up a canteen of water from the foot of the boulder. "You really should rest as well."

  She accepted the canteen but was already looking to where she guessed Naatos would emerge. "I doubt I can." Her eyes burned, and her muscles ached. Cold sweat dried along her forehead and back, and the light heady sensation combined with the nausea warned her that anything she put in her stomach besides the cool water was likely to return violently.

  AaQar passed a canteen to WroOth as well. WroOth held the dolmath with one hand as easily as with two, but it scrambled a little more. "They'll be leaving soon. I'll track them to their den," he said.

  She managed to put her hand just over the top of the dolmath but shuddered violently. The creature tugged at her hand. She snapped her arm back to her chest, her fingers clenched so hard to her palm that her fingernails cut into her.

  "Getting closer," WroOth said gently. "And you haven't hit it once."

  That was a victory. She'd wanted to lash out several times.

  AaQar returned to the fire. "You both will eat before we start the day's tasks."

  WroOth tipped his canteen toward him in acknowledgment, managing a half smile. "I was thinking starvation was a better choice."

  Naatos emerged from the forest, pushing aside the branches and foliage.

  Her mouth went dry.

  Silence fell as everyone looked at him. There was little doubt how successful he had been.

  Naatos set the pack down with the others. For half a breath, he appeared haggard, exhausted, his shoulders down, his head dipped. He set his arms akimbo and straightened. "There was nothing," he said. "Five of our cities have been destroyed in their entirety. And there is nothing." Another strained breath. Then he lifted his chin, his shoulders squaring. "There is nothing left at all. We are alone."

  WroOth rested his face in his hand, the dolmath sliding off his lap and down the boulder. "For now."

  Naatos cast an odd look back at him, his face granite once more. That mask held. No tendril of fear or anything other than a gut knowledge that, yes, he understood. But he lied. "For now."

  "We can explore other methods for handling this. Some of the old ways," Naatos said. "Colrum serum."

  "It's debatable whether that will work at this point," AaQar said quietly.

  "What other choice is there?" Naatos splashed the water from the basin on his face and scrubbed it. He flung the water droplets away. "How long do you have?"

  AaQar canted his head, his expression equally somber and masked. His weariness could not be hidden though. "Long enough."

  "What about libno livers?" WroOth asked. "They could be substituted for the kelpy liver."

  "Libnos are almost impossible to find here," AaQar responded. "Especially in this area. Perhaps a little easier than kelpies. But we'd have to find several other ingredients if we're to make the serum. It'll have to sit for eight days."

  "I found willow bark and grey trillium." Naatos indicated the pack. "Red tren and salve leaf as well. We can find the rest in the time we have. And it may not be enough to stop this or allow us to purge completely, but it will help. And at this point… every advantage matters."

  "We can try. Even if you find the libnos, I can't imagine you'll find the death sorrel. It's the wrong season, and, without that, well—" he sighed. "Maybe we can make it work. I am going to reapply the rels to our perimeter." AaQar strode away as Naatos finished drying his face.

  As Naatos turned, his gaze caught hers. She stiffened, keeping herself steady. "Did you rest at all, veskaro?"

  "Probably as much as you." She kept her grip on the staff tight.

  He approached the boulder as the dolmaths rose, shook themselves, and bolted away back to their den.

  WroOth leaped down with nimble grace and—somehow—without landing on a single one. He then strolled along with them, leaving the camp, his hands resting on his belt.

  The night felt as if it had lasted forever. The strength that skittered through her veins was shaky at best, the images playing out behind her eyes though she kept herself steady. More or less.

  He looked up at her, his sharp blue eyes surprisingly soft. "Can you rest?"

  "Probably no more than you."

  He made some low inaudible sound, then he lifted his hand to her. "Do you want to come down?"

  She let the staff go, then leaned toward him. He caught hold of her easily.

  "This wasn't how it was supposed to be," he said in her ear. His voice rumbled low against her, heavy with worry and sorrow.

  "I know." She let herself relax against him.

  There was something different when he held her. His heat engulfed her, soothing in a deeper way now.

  For a long moment, he simply held her, his arms folded tight over her, and her feet in the air. She breathed slowly, unable to close her eyes but startled at the thoughts pulsing through her. The desire that what was here beneath the surface could exist. Could grow. Could become something. For whatever reason, in this moment, it wasn't hard to imagine loving him. Loving him and not hating herself.

  If she could just close her eyes, she could disappear into that moment. Make it last. Hold onto it—

  She couldn't resist it. She closed her burning eyes.

  Those images rose up. Spider faces. Teeth digging into her neck and her shoulders and her legs. She pulled back, her eyes springing open, her feet kicking against his shins.

  He lowered her to the ground. His hands lingered. "Are you all right?"

  "I'm fine," she said tightly. Her hands still rested on his muscular chest. "I just—there's a lot to think about."

  His fingers worked along her waist. "You should rest, veskaro."

  "Not now. And you shouldn't stay here either. You need to hunt since I'm guessing those livers don't grow on trees."

  He smiled faintly. "No." He kissed her temple and sighed. "This will pass as well."

  He certainly wanted to seem confident.

  "It will," she agreed.

  "Don't leave the camp." Naatos picked up one of the leaf-wrapped packets of meat and left, his steps brisk. The heaviness moved with him.

  She resumed caring for QueQoa. Her shoulders ached, and her eyes throbbed. But she gave him mouthfuls of soup. His nightmares stilled as she fed him and spoke to him, though she was only half aware of what she said. Mostly general reassurances. The lines along his shoulder and neck had grown angry once again. "I will figure out how to soothe your dreams," she promised. "We've got to do some more preparatory work here, and then it'll be taken care of."

  As Amelia went back to fill the small wooden bowl for a second time, AaQar returned. He opened the pack Naatos had brought back and removed the plants. Some he placed in the stone vessel with water. Others, a large frag
rant brunch with broad grey leaves and burgundy stems, he tied with string and hung from the chiron oak. "I've just applied the rels. I should be able to make it beyond the third hour of the afternoon, but you want to apply them every twelve hours for the greatest protection. So long as one of us is conscious, you need not concern yourself with that. But—"

  "Naatos isn't going to withstand the ilzinium is he?" Kneeling, Amelia resumed feeding QueQoa. At this rate, if all of them fell, most of her time would be spent feeding them. Fear spasmed through her.

  "He will do his best." AaQar tied up the last bundle. Pausing, he put his hands on the top of his head and drew in a deep breath. "At the fourth hour past noon, I am to help him complete the surge if possible. Here, unlike in the dungeon in Libysha, we have the opportunity and the tools. Ordinarily, he would do this on his own. He has more often than not. But—I will tell you plainly, it is unlikely to work."

  Amelia's heart clenched. Cold fear and bile backed up along her throat and knotted within her stomach. AaQar was a calm stability, and the thought of him returning to a state similar to when he was in the dungeon terrified her. "What do you need from me? What can I do?"

  AaQar motioned for her to follow him. "By this time two days from now, I fear you will be alone. It may become difficult to manage all of the tasks. These are what you must prioritize."

  She listened intently. The first stages of defensive palisades had been set up. WroOth had marked the circle for the rels' application with the dusty yellow dye of the pulverized flower petals. Deep cuts in the bark of several trees served as additional markers.

  They had no sooner returned when WroOth came back. "The den is a little less than half a mile from here," he said. "You're sure you want to do this?"

  "Seems the best way to get over it fast." She wiped her hands off on her apron and glanced back at AaQar. "Are you going to be all right being alone?"

  AaQar waved her away. "Right now getting to a point where you can manage the dolmaths is the most important thing you could do."