WroOth appeared beside him. "I pushed her too far this morning. Do you want to kuvaste me?"
Naatos glanced at him, surprised AaQar had finished speaking with him so soon. "Do you need to kuvaste?"
WroOth shook his head, his lips pressed in such a tight line they almost vanished. "They're going to get her. And I can't lose anyone else. I won't."
"They aren't—"
"You can't guarantee that. We didn't know about the mind shade. You apparently knew about the Ki Valo Nakar, but none of us know how to manage that. She's got enough curses in her to be an enchanter's pin cushion. And the likelihood that there are more in there—" His eyes shuttered. "If it's true that Salanca created her with the intention of mixing in all of these enchantments to leave the curses with Amelia and give the blessings to another, then what's the likelihood that she stopped with one? And why didn't the Neyeb Council of Elders notice the mind shade inside her?"
"WroOth, I—"
"More is coming. Even worse if it plays as it's likely to. And that tang in the air. Do you smell it?"
"I do."
WroOth shifted his weight onto his other foot as he shook his head. "We don't have time. And she has to learn. There's too much for her to learn."
Naatos chose his words with care. "WroOth, she is a Neyeb. We can teach her a great many things, but they will never change who and what she is. She will never be able to heal herself. She will never be able to take someone ripping out her ribs or impaling her even with one trident. She'd probably be willing to learn anything, but if we want her to stand a chance, she needs to learn things that will actually help her survive. Your initial plan to teach her how to survive against creatures here was better."
"I'm going to teach her how to handle flight."
"That's good too." It wouldn't keep her safe against the Okalu, but it was good. Defending her was going to be more about their own strength and their ability to fight off whatever came for her.
"I can't stop thinking about what happened." WroOth drew his hand over his mouth. "What they did to them."
He put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "And they will pay." Each time he said that, it felt hollower and hollower. What else could he say though? They did have their first clue in the longest of times. Whoever was behind it had taken on the identity of the Okalu. That was something to note.
"They will. Of course they will. But if they get her before we destroy them—" WroOth broke off, then shook his head and turned his attention back to Amelia with Proteus and QueQoa at the river. "Vengeance doesn't fill the void that our loved ones leave when they pass. In truth, it feels rather pointless. I want to watch the life drain from their eyes after I have inflicted on them every torment they put upon my wife and children. But—what then? And even if Amelia died and we besieged Elonumato's Land, you can't force anyone to leave who doesn't want to go. And you know she'd refuse to leave."
Unpleasant as the subject was, that image almost made him laugh. Yes. If she died and if they found some way to breach those sacred gates, she'd probably narrow her eyes at them and say, "no; go away." And then proceed to find the one dangerous point in all of the heavenly expanse and get herself trapped in there. "Let's focus on this life."
WroOth made some noncommittal sound.
"Storms will be coming soon. We need to make better time if we're to have any chance of making it to any sort of cover before the precursors arrive." He studied the horizon, noting that the color was a comfortable yellow. Nothing particularly spectacular. Bland really, compared to what could break the dawn. But he'd take that for the safety it meant.
The tang in the air warned that the early signs of the Grey Season would be rolling in upon them. The early storms leading into the Grey Season weren't usually terrible, but he didn't trust it would remain that way. Especially not with all the surprises Ecekom had thrown their way.
"Best make things quick," WroOth said.
It did not take long. Breakfast passed swiftly; packing took even less time.
They had nearly finished putting all of the packs on the bavril when Amelia approached him. "Could you get the hammock down?" she asked sweetly.
Too sweetly. She even smiled at him and did a spin as she passed. He narrowed his eyes at her. What was she playing?
She just kept walking.
He watched her as he neared the tree. What game was she playing? He reached up to transform the wood back into the hammock's ropes but paused. They were already rope, and those knots were the ones she had tied. Something dangled from the end. Drawing closer, he caught hold of it.
A braided rope bracelet hung on the strand. Spiteful little onion fish had not only cut enough of the rope to free the hammock and retied the knots, she'd cut enough to make him jewelry. He almost laughed to see it.
She really was more than fine.
51
Training
It was odd how something so strange could become so ordinary. And yet these past weeks had become just that. Tending them while they were sick had become ordinary. Walking through a forest with enormous insects and dinosaurs and spiders and centipedes and acid-mouthed creatures, well, that had become ordinary in its own way. Relying on Naatos, AaQar, WroOth, and QueQoa had likewise become ordinary.
Her heart always leaped and her adrenaline always surged when something came out of the leaves or attacked, but with the brothers now at near full strength and most of the predators attacking alone or in pairs, nothing got close enough to do more than graze her on occasion. She felt foolish with her own wooden spear AaQar had made as well as her daggers. So far as the gun went, she kept it clean and checked it regularly, but she didn't use it. There wasn't much purpose behind it for now, but it made her feel better to carry it just as her eyeliner made her feel better when she wore it.
Once it dried up, she'd have to make more.
Not that that was a priority.
But neither was QueQoa showing her all sorts of large rocks. She listened though. Noted that most of them appeared near trees separated from the rest. Varied in shades from blue to brown to grey. Utterly ordinary. Even for here.
"There's another one there," QueQoa said, indicating a jagged one with white speckles. "Bit of a bad one too. We're not in dangerous territory yet. You won't find any of these on the edges of the death grass though. Something in the soil burns them. Same with suphrite actually."
Occasionally WroOth's mouth twitched or his shoulders tensed as if he restrained a laugh. Each time Amelia asked him, he denied anything amusing him. But at last, he gripped QueQoa's shoulder and said, "It's been three hours, and there is one small thing you haven't told her. One very small but important detail."
"They're not particularly fast," QueQoa said, frowning.
"Please don't tell me that the rocks eat people here." Amelia sighed.
"Oh they aren't rocks. They just look like rocks." QueQoa turned as WroOth burst into delighted laughter. "Why are you laughing? You know this is true."
"I do. But she didn't."
"You don't have lorakas on Eiram?" QueQoa asked.
Amelia shook her head, now studying the rock with greater suspicion. "How do you tell them apart from regular rocks?"
"Well regular rocks don't bite you for one," WroOth said.
"No lorakas? No camels? How boring is your little world? Eiram used to have lorakas though. And camels. I remember them." QueQoa shook his head with confusion.
"That world changed. It went through many changes since you were last there," AaQar called back. "You wouldn't recognize it."
"You still have the chinnies though?" QueQoa appeared concerned.
"Chinnies?" Amelia frowned. "What are those?"
"Chinchillas." WroOth grinned. "Eiram has so many creatures who serve no real purpose other than being adorable."
"Chinchillas are cute," she admitted.
"Chinnies and bunnies. They'd never survive out here."
"Well speaking of surviving, how do you tell what's a loraka and wha
t's a real rock? Other than getting bit."
"That's the best way."
"WroOth."
He flashed her a grin and kept going.
As it turned out, getting bit or using a stick to provoke a bite really was the best way to determine whether a rock was a rock. That and knowing where lorakas were likely to be. Not to mention plain instinct.
Surviving on Ecekom alone like this would have been far more challenging without them. Perhaps that was the other thing that made it easier to see them as her family.
Training likewise improved. On her own, she worked on her Neyeb skills, cataloging and organizing what she needed, working on all of the exercises especially for shields and barriers. Combat and survival training continued as well.
WroOth did apologize in his own WroOth way, which was to lightly insult her and then knock her off the log. But he improved. The worry remained, obvious to her no matter how hard he tried to hide it. QueQoa's attempts to intervene with milder offerings were mostly ignored or interrupted. If they were near a suphrite stream, training was harder and significantly more intense. Yet she still made progress.
They divided her training between working with weapons against human-styled opponents and various creatures that lived within Ecekom. AaQar continued to offer his own interjections. Occasionally, he sparred with her. He had a quiet and gentle manner of instruction that involved significantly more talking her through what steps he wanted her to perform. He rarely threw her and, even then, only after consulting her. QueQoa and WroOth now asked permission, so that she considered a tremendous win.
Before this, Naatos had generally left when she trained. Now he remained. It was most unnerving the first few days, making her skin prickle and her neck tighten. He almost always wore an expression that suggested he could do it better, regardless of what that was. Probably even cake decorating or origami. And it would never be good enough. Folds could always be tighter, hatching more even.
Somehow thinking of nonsensical bits like that helped her slide into a deeper focus. And she needed that focus. Every time it wavered, she got hit or thrown or upended. She always got up though, and she almost always ignored him.
Except… each day the mood that spiraled and coiled off him was stronger. And it stuck to her, especially if she thought about what seduction he might attempt. Lately she'd been choosing his questions just to get a break from the bargain they'd made. But those were almost as bad.
Did she like it when he kissed her behind her ear? Would she ever consider sleeping naked? Had she thought of him without his clothes? Did she want him to touch her elmis?
Why did he constantly ask questions that had yes answers?
The days were eking by, and his damned questions and seduction tactics weren't helping do anything except make her more aware of every single moment.
Every.
Single.
Agonizing.
Moment.
He wanted her. Badly.
But she wanted him too.
Maybe even as much.
And somehow it kept building.
This had to reach a peak, didn't it?
Apparently not. Wretched mind shade and all its destructiveness. No matter how many times she went inside her mind and examined that jagged broken pillar with the ivy growing up it, she never felt like she understood what she was looking at. Was she healing? Naatos had said arousal would help her mind want to heal, and that that would mean it would be easier. But had it helped?
There was more ivy. Maybe the stalactites and stalagmites had grown. Maybe. A little? But it still appeared very much the same.
Sometimes she doubted he knew as much as he thought about being Neyeb.
Today had been especially difficult. He was under her skin before they finished breakfast. The worst part was that he wasn't even doing anything. It was just his presence. The fact that he was there.
This afternoon WroOth wanted her to practice fighting club walkers, a bizarre crab-like creature that was startlingly fast, with a bo staff. Apparently they were often associated with the Okalu. "If this Okalu is interested in authenticity, you'll be up against them eventually. And one blow to the head would put you in a coma. They go for the heads and the arms. If it gets your arm, it will shatter it."
"Two of the last things I'd want." She adjusted her grip on the wooden staff. AaQar had made it for her. She'd trained with Uncle Joe and on her own with something similar. Ironically, she had never really favored it because she didn't feel that the bo staff was as good for deadly combat. She had enjoyed it simply for the relaxation and stretching it allowed. But a lot of her tactics and priorities had changed.
Training started off as ordinary as any training session with WroOth could. He was in a more generous mood today and gave her three rounds of lighter attacks before ramping up.
Naatos watched. She felt him even without looking at him standing there beneath the turquoise oak. That gaze of his was ravenous. Taking her in. Stripping her down. Seeing every part of her.
Don't look.
She parried and dropped as WroOth attacked, his massive grey-black claw slicing just over her head. Even with all the extra limbs, he managed the crab form well.
Crouching, she swept over to the left. Sprang. Struck. Fell back.
Don't look.
WroOth attacked again, cutting sideways and backwards.
She narrowly skipped back and tripped two of his legs. He spun, and she compensated.
Something, some energy, surged behind her. Him. Damn him! What was he thinking? She glanced back at Naatos.
His eyes flicked to hers, and he smiled.
Everything in her stopped.
Her feet rooted to the dark earth, her grip on the bo staff sliding.
WroOth pulled up and dropped back into his state of rest but still cracked her arm. "Shrieking moons, woman, if you're going to stop like that, at least hit the ground. Are you all right?"
"Yes," she said tightly. The intense ache through her forearm and up into her bicep along with the sharp pain dead in the center of the blow confirmed that it was broken without her having to look at it. "It was my fault. I should have dropped."
"Really? Should you have dropped or parried or moved?" WroOth seized the staff and let it fall. "Let me see. How bad is it?"
Naatos had already moved closer. He put his arm out as if to slide it around her. "It's broken."
Amelia stepped away at once, sliding from his hand before he could even touch her. Everything burned inside her. Horrid mind shade. This wouldn't even be a problem if it hadn't eaten her. As bad as it was for her, there was no way he could focus enough to heal her, and she didn't need his frustration and all the drama from that. "I'm going to the suphrite."
"Amelia, at least let me try to heal it. Amelia. Come back. Ow! WroOth!"
WroOth had picked up Amelia's bo staff and struck Naatos with it. "Oh? Didn't you see that coming? Did that hurt? Were you distracted?"
"WroOth—" Naatos started.
WroOth hit him again. "What were you thinking?"
That was probably the last hit with the bo staff WroOth was going to get. Amelia didn't glance back. It was for the best that those two were going to fight it out. She desperately needed to think.
The suphrite stream here was not that far from the training circle's farthest line. If she went to the narrow mouth, she could see it easily. Beyond that were enough shrubs and brush as well as rocks to provide sufficient cover. She didn't go far into the waters. Just in deep enough to soak her throbbing arm.
She'd legitimately scared WroOth.
It would have scared her too. At the moment though, her response to Naatos alarmed her more. All of these changes brought with them uncomfortable heat and increased awareness. But she'd just locked into place out there. Not because of a specific thought. Not a shouted command. Not even a panic response.
"Don't distract her when I'm training her," WroOth shouted. "You know better than this."
Naatos's re
sponse was too low for her to hear.
"Well she isn't going to be making improvements with you leering at her."
True enough. The way Naatos looked at her sometimes was almost enough to peel the clothes right off her. Sometimes she wanted to peel them off him.
She slid farther into the water, contemplating going under. It wasn't as if she hadn't seen a naked man before. She had. Multiple times. But this was different. Unfortunately.
He'd laughed at her so much after he asked her whether she ever thought of him naked.
Garom.
Sikalt.
She covered her face and reoriented herself.
Get it together.
Her arm itched and ached intensely beneath the turquoise waters. That dull sleepiness rose up as well.
The fight between WroOth and Naatos continued. "No. No. Not at all. I can too banish you. You two can work on not being enamored with each other on the battlefield later. And you should be ashamed of yourself. You distracted her and got her hurt, and you can't even focus enough to heal her right now because you were too busy indulging yourself."
The following roar confirmed how poorly that last statement landed. Kuvaste.
It was mostly true though.
She should have paid better attention though. Distractions didn't matter in combat. In fact, they happened all the time. Out here as well.
Something about him though.
Oh. She groaned.
Loneliness she knew. That had plagued her her entire life. The sense of not belonging. Of being a literal alien and never really able to explain to anyone just how deeply that went. How much life just hadn't clicked or made sense for her. That feeling of ever existing but never belonging.
Sexual need though. She groaned inwardly. What horrid hell was it and why did it need to show up like this kick-in-the-gut ache? If loneliness was a hollow nothingness that ached with every breath, sexual need was a ravenous pit that expanded each day and told all her nerves to burn and long.
Could she really just forget about all of the killing and the Tue-Rahs and the conquest of the worlds though? Mind shade aside, that still hadn't been fixed. Sex wasn't going to make any of that easier to sort through all that.
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