Wilderness Untamed

by Butler, J. M.

  Returning to the tree, she sat beside him and set one of the canteens between them. "I wanted water." She drank from her own as if to prove her point.

  "Hmmph."

  "Maybe some tea? It's only fresh herbs though. Neyeb stuff."

  He shook his head.

  She fell silent but remained beside him. The silence stretched for minutes, moving on and on into the night. Though she wanted to say something, she resisted.

  "This comes and goes," he said at last. "But it's always beneath the surface. I'll be fine in the end. In my brothers' eyes, I will forever be a child. Especially after I lost my mind. They see me as fragile. And—" He shrugged. "I cannot deny that there are parts of me which shatter easily. I am more mad than sane some days, and the stitches in my mind strain some days more than others. Yet I endure." He laughed, the sound hollow, his eyes churning with emotion. "Forever I endure. Forever and ever."

  She put her hand over his blanketed arm. The emotions stung and roiled.

  "It was all for them."

  "What was?" She tilted her head.

  "I've never had much taste for power or ruling. I can do it when needed. When we ruled Svenla, I found much of it tedious and annoying. The actual work of it. The adulation. The glory. The final say. Those were all well and good. Delightful in fact. Becoming a Para stretched me in ways I didn't think I needed. Then the idea came for us to continue. I didn't like it at first. Refusing the transition, staging a public takeover, installing ourselves as lords of the worlds. But the three Neyeb who were to become the next Paras had been murdered. Three of Naatos's proteges actually. Warnings and rumors spread. Attacks grew more frequent. It was as if tragedy after tragedy had been lined up to test the limits of the system, and millions were lost. And when the second set of Neyeb were chosen to take our place as Paras, they were murdered too. Horrifically. Their bodies scattered across the temple."

  Amelia listened, startled at this. AaQar's memory had shown the three of them killing the Paras-to-be. Naatos had said memories could be changed. But why would someone do that?

  "It just kept getting worse and worse. We were told Elonumato had a plan, and there was evidence of something. But the deaths kept mounting. And, despite the constraints of being Para, the peoples knew not to antagonize us too much. Naatos in particular had a limit. No one could prove it, but those who went too far against him tended to wind up mysteriously dead. It wasn't always looked upon with favor, but it had the desired effect. When we stopped serving as Paras, we knew that those tests and acts of aggression would intensify. Especially against the Neyeb. I almost convinced Mara it was the right thing to do. But she took issue with certain key components. I hadn't expected that. After we lost Nkiato, I would have thought she'd be willing to do anything."

  "Who was Nkiato?"

  "Mara's son with her previous—" His face twisted with distaste. "Supposedly her husband. But in truth he was her owner. She was essentially a slave. But she was pregnant by him before she fled. I met her the day she gave birth to Nkiato, and we locked that night. I raised Nkiato as my own. Even though we had our differences, he loved this family, and we loved him. He wouldn't have left. Not even with all his frustrations."

  "So why do you think Rasha was involved?"

  WroOth laughed low in his throat as he plucked at the grass. "There's a Vawtrian tradition. If a person truly disgraces your family and you wish to give them a chance to regain their place, you take a special dagger and give them a task. These daggers are displayed in every home. Often that task is to survive for a set amount of time in a hostile world. Typically an empty one. Or mostly empty. The task regardless must be a great challenge. It must take the person to their limit. And then they are to return and present the dagger to the family. A great feast and celebration is prepared, and the one who has returned is placed at the head of the gathering and allowed to share their story of where they went and what they did. After Nkiato disappeared, AaQar and Rasha had us in their home with the rest of the family. And Mara noticed that one of those daggers was missing.

  "Rasha claimed it had broken when she was sharpening it. And it wouldn't have been the first time. But, what was more suspect was that she went out of her way to comfort Mara. Mara and Rasha found ways to get along, but Rasha is neither the nurturing nor the comforting type."

  She didn't seem like she was, but Amelia still found it hard to imagine that Rasha would harm one of the children of the family. "Why would Rasha harm Nkiato?"

  "He saw something. Or uncovered something. Rasha lived centuries before us. She has a long, long past. And she guarded it fiercely. Really, that whole month she was strange. From the start of the Unato conflict to Nkiato's disappearance."

  "Maybe he's still out there. Maybe he just couldn't find the Tue-Rah."

  WroOth shook his head as he lifted his arm and then let it drop. "Perhaps. But unlikely. Mara went back and forth in what she believed. She had whole journals of the life she believed he made for himself. Told me once that she hoped that the reason he hadn't come back was because he met some wonderful person and was so madly in love he couldn't bring himself to leave. Maybe even was afraid of what we'd say. But that meant one day he'd come marching home with a mate and his own little ones and all manner of grand stories. She even had the party planned for his arrival. Every year she would update the information she had. And she kept enough ingredients in stock for his favorite meal. Over the years, that hope dimmed. There were no answers. No discoveries. And a boy like Nkiato wouldn't be able to just disappear that easily. Nor would he have said nothing about it. He loved talking more than anything."

  "What did AaQar do when you told him about your suspicions?"

  He chuckled darkly. "What he could. He joined the search. Pursued answers. Spoke with Rasha. Even asked her to swear a vestov vow."

  "A vestov vow?" She frowned.

  "It's a sacred vow on the bond of your union." WroOth finally looked at her. "You swear on it, and your beloved names the consequence if you violate it. AaQar asked her to do this, and the consequence he named was whatever Mara decided was best. Rasha took it. But…"

  "You don't believe her."

  "We had to go on as if we did. We kuvasted enough times that it should have removed the sting, but it didn't."

  "You spoke much kinder of her in Polfradon."

  He scoffed. "I thought she was dead. It's much easier to be charitable of someone you think has gone on from this life."

  "I'm sorry Nkiato is gone."

  WroOth shook his head. "If he hadn't died then, he would have died soon after. They wouldn't have spared him."

  "It wasn't your fault." She squeezed his arm though she felt helpless. How did one even go about fixing this sort of thing? There wasn't anything she could do. Nothing but sit and listen.

  He shrugged, staring off into the distance. "It hardly matters. If accepting the blame in full would bring them back, I'd take it in a heartbeat. But there is a special kind of cruelty that we are dealing with in this. They tortured my children and my wife. All to wound me." His voice grew ragged. "And I was not there to save them."

  "From the sounds of this Okalu, whoever is behind that name, they would have done it at some other point if they hadn't succeeded."

  "I could have stayed with them constantly. I thought that all the guards and warriors I left behind would be sufficient. And when they were taken, I was preparing with Naatos and AaQar for the overthrow of the Tue-Rahs. Exactly as Mara begged me not to. Of course, at that moment, she thought I was attending to very important Para business. So there was no tearful goodbye. Just a soft kiss and a promise for more. At least I took the time to hug and kiss them all, loud and unruly as they were that morning. I play it over and over in my head. Leslo asked me not to go. But I went." He dipped his head forward. "I went."

  "I'm sorry."

  "They killed my babies and murdered my heart." He didn't look up. "Because of me. I killed them." Drawing his hands over his face, he shuddered.


  She put her hand on his shoulder. "You're going down a bad path, WroOth. It wasn't your fault. And you didn't do it. No matter what you've done, Mara and your kids didn't deserve that. And you didn't do it to them."

  He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped, letting his arm fall back to his side. Pausing then, he indicated her cheek. "You cut yourself."

  She pointed to his face. "So did you. Why aren't you healing?"

  He shrugged, shaking his head. "They took your babies too. Took away the whole purpose for you to even have that curse."

  Her chest tightened. "I'm intentionally not thinking about that," she said softly. "Please don't make me think about it now."

  He gripped her hand, nodding. "Life keeps going of course. And soon, very, very soon, whoever this Okalu is will be shattered and broken and poured out. They won't get you, little sister."

  She studied him. A flare of strength returned to him whenever he spoke about protection and anything in the future. Probably because it gave him another purpose, yet it had a sharp barb to it. He wasn't convinced he could. "Even if they do, it won't be your fault."

  "They won't." He said it more sternly this time. "We've lost enough. Sometimes I think the women in this family are just cursed."

  "The men don't seem to fare much better."

  "I just wish I knew who this was and why." He drew her closer. "If you see a blood portal, you must not run through it."

  "What is it?"

  "It will look like a purple or red energy vortex. Or a spinning plate, depending on how strong it is. Don't climb inside."

  "I make it a habit to not climb inside vortexes of any kind."

  "Good." He leaned his head back, his eyes sliding shut. Another long pause followed. His adam's apple bobbed. "I did lie to her though. It wasn't going to be forever. Just long enough to get things in order. Get them settled. Fixed. Then I was going to show her worlds where our children would be safe. Safe to grow and learn. To exist. And after they were gone, how could I stop?"

  The ragged gasp that followed nearly broke her heart. "Don't lie to me about this," he continued. "Sometimes lies can be a comfort. Other times they help one pull through. But right now, I need the truth. If you were Mara, would you love me after everything that happened?"

  Her stomach dropped. "I didn't know Mara," she said hesitantly. "I don't know that I should speak for her."

  "Tell me."

  "I think from what you have said and what I have seen that she would be hurt and angry. A lot of trust would be broken. But I don't think she'd stop loving you. Nor would she doubt that you love her. She'd want to make things work still."

  "And I could explain things. I will explain everything. One day I'll see her again. And she'll understand. Don't you think?" He managed a weak smile. "I know how to make this all good again. I know how to make it right. It's just a little impossible for now. Only for now. Perhaps you'll get to meet them. You'd love them all."

  "I know I would." She noticed that his eyelids were hanging even heavier now. "Do you want to sleep in the hammock?"

  "Hmm." He scoffed. "Childish." He glanced at it nonetheless. "Fine. If it would make you happy. But you have to do something for me."

  "Get in the hammock and then tell me." She winced as she stood. Her foot had been bothering her more and more. Only the area surrounding the black mark though. And it was a different pain from the fatigue of a long hike. Maybe it was her imagination but it seemed much worse after Rasha's emergence.

  WroOth stood, the blanket still around his shoulders. "You have to promise to do it."

  "Tell me what it is after you get in the hammock." She steadied herself on the tree.

  He flopped into it, far less gracefully this time. "Wake me when you're ready to sleep," he mumbled.

  Nope. She adjusted the blanket so that it covered him. "Pleasant dreams."

  He grabbed her wrist. "You have to let me train you with falling and flight. Promise me that. I won't throw you for fun. Neither will QueQoa. But if we have to escape fast, flight is best. You're going to get ripped off and thrown off no matter how much we try to avoid it. And if we tried making a shield around you or some sort of horn encapsulation that you could ride in, and we got hit with any sort of venom, it would collapse too fast. So please. Let me teach you."

  "Fine. I've always wanted to fly." She forced a smile. "I don't know how you're going to make that practical though."

  "Wait and see." His eyes had already drifted shut. "And only jump when you're told."

  As he drifted into sleep, she noted his feelings. The dream, though she couldn't see the pieces of it, seemed peaceful enough. Harmless at least.

  Moving back to the tree, she braced against the trunk and removed her boot. The blackened flesh on her heel had fanned along the edges in a bruised-purple shade. That was the area that hurt. But had it spread? She frowned, realizing that she wasn't certain on that point.

  Returning to the tablet, she picked it up and examined the tra AaQar had fastened to it. The blue glob was still powering the tablet. It hadn't even dropped below 99%. Enough energy for pictures hopefully.

  She snapped a few pictures and shut the camera off. For a few moments, she massaged her foot and listened to both the fire and WroOth's breathing. He was right. She'd have loved Mara and their kids. She already did in a way.

  A small tremor of fear passed through her as she recalled Rasha's words. Dying really wasn't the hard part of all this. It was how one went out. Being monstrous terrified her. But being dragged off and butchered wasn't especially appealing either. There had to be something between monster and victim. Whatever it was, she would find it.

  And if she was supposed to bring fear, perhaps she could take fear to the Okalu. The little cold bead shone in mind, brighter than before.

  48

  Trench

  Naatos swung back in the sky as soon as he heard those whistle blasts. WroOth was found. And safe. For now.

  His brother had wreaked a bloody path despite the relative shortness of his tirade. Blood streaked the ground, branches and tree trunks shattered and twisted. Whatever he'd torn to pieces, little remained.

  This wasn't a full mind split. He hadn't become a skinchanger this time. But the horror of those memories thundered within Naatos nonetheless. It was far too close for comfort.

  Killoth had warned them all of this. Stitching a mind back together after the shattering and skinchanging was delicate work at the best of times. And WroOth's grief ran deep. Too deep. Even so, he hadn't realized how fragile his brother actually was.

  There were times when those memories of Mara's and the children's murders threatened to undo him as well. That entire day. The desert. The bodies. What followed. He'd put those memories behind walls for good reason. Now though it was as if all those walls were failing for him as well.

  He returned, reaching the camp last. WroOth slept in the hammock as AaQar checked him over and QueQoa spoke with Amelia. The crisis had passed. For now.

  They spoke briefly of what had happened, but with QueQoa tired, AaQar in a less than conversational mood, and WroOth sleeping, Naatos did not press much more discussion. He volunteered for the first watch though.

  Amelia didn't seem interested in sleep either. For awhile, she paced, brushing past conversation and barely acknowledging him.

  Not that that was an issue. He needed to think as well. To plan.

  The night passed slowly, the calm interrupted at points by creatures calling out. A bad sign if ever there was one. The dolmaths had not been as far out in the open here. Another bad sign.

  Far from the worst though. And the rels would hold. Hopefully. So long as they did, they were guaranteed at least some rest. For now. Since they'd adapted to the ilzinium and taken the more cautious route, things hadn't been so bad. But in Ecekom, things could change on the flip of a coin or the slip of a foot. Especially if what Rasha said was true. And while she had lied on more than one occasion, he doubted that that was the case here. It might
yet be a trap.

  Who was behind this? The Okalu was mythical. But its impact was not.

  As his watch drew to an end, he noted that Amelia still hadn't gone to sleep. Moreover, she favored her left foot as she paced "If you want to rest, I can wake WroOth or just move him so you can have your hammock."

  She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. Other than Tacky, the dolmaths didn't come tonight. I just don't think I can sleep right now." Tacky purred happily, delighted that he was the only one receiving all of the affection and warmth. "I don't think they like Neyeb energy expressions or whatever I should call all that."

  "Mind shades terrify all creatures. Emergences of all kinds tend to be disturbing for animals." He cupped his hand along her cheek, searching for any sign of harm. It took more focus than what had become ordinary for him to pass some of his healing into her and mend the cuts along her cheek and temple.

  "I'm tired. It's a little overwhelming to feel everyone like this. But I'm all right. More worried after what Rasha said."

  "Is your heel bothering you?" He motioned to her bare feet.

  "A little. I don't think it's expanded, but it's more sore. And not because we've been hiking." She shrugged. "Hiking wise, this hasn't been too bad. It's not like I get much fighting in on whatever animals come after us. I could just read while you all sort it out."

  Naatos smiled slightly. He motioned for her to let him see her left foot. "Show me."

  She did.

  It was difficult to tell if the broad band across her heel had worsened. But he disliked it. When he pressed his energy against it, nothing responded as he expected. Which meant that if this was a venom, it was a strange kind. One he hadn't seen before or that he couldn't recall. It burned at the edges of his mind, just out of reach. More likely a curse. Perhaps part of the blood curse or the mind shade. They'd done enough to her to ensure that she wouldn't even make it to her fifties.