Wilderness Untamed

by Butler, J. M.

  Actually he could think of many things they did not need right now.

  "It's almost morning," QueQoa said as they started down the grassland. "But perhaps we should warn them."

  A great coughing bark boomed through the night, followed by a chittering screech. The dragons lifted their heads at once. Then, as one, they turned and fled, spreading their wings and flying toward Darmoste.

  "That is certainly not good," WroOth observed. He didn't recognize the beast bellowing into the night, but that call sounded like a warning.

  "It's big," QueQoa said.

  AaQar nodded. "At least a hundred feet, perhaps larger. Can't tell if it's reptilian or insectoid based on that sound. Probably eats dragons." He adjusted his grip on his staff and then pointed in Naatos and Amelia's general direction. "With that and the blood portals and the unformed ones, we need to go get them if Naatos hasn't moved them already. The trees might not be safe even with the rels. Ecekom has many more surprises for us it seems."

  None of them pleasant either, WroOth thought. They wouldn't get everyone back together in enough time to suit him.

  * * *

  There was another presence. Not someone she knew. And not a dream exactly. But she heard and felt it as she rested, the sensation at once alien and human, cold and terrified. The soft cry curled through her mind, coming from all directions at once. Desperation. Loneliness. Sorrow.

  It tugged at her, the cry growing louder and louder. That pull drew her into deeper darkness. It was—it was moving her.

  "Wait!" she called out. "Who are you? What's—what's happening?"

  Alarm flared through her as she became aware of a slipping sensation. Her body was moving, and she couldn't stop it. And all the while those sobs intensified.

  Flailing, she grabbed at whatever she could.

  Her eyelids shot up as she woke, disoriented and terrified. Where was she? What had—

  She was hanging upside down over someone's bare shoulder, and they were no longer in the tree but on the ground, navigating a narrow path between the snoring ilmas. Naatos. The mixture of annoyance and surprise was at least smoothed out when she realized it was him. This sort of thing wasn't nearly as surprising as it should have been. "Why?" she asked.

  "Good," Naatos said without glancing back at her. "You're awake."

  She wiped her eyes, grimacing even though the dawn light was a relatively soft grey-yellow. Trails of mist wove through the leaves and shrubs. If he hadn't heard anything, it must have only been a dream. That was a comfort. "I've missed something important."

  "You were exhausted." He pushed a branch back and then stepped around a sleeping ilma. It curled its massive paw inward, its long breaths making its nostrils flutter. "We needed to go."

  And apparently waking her was just not an option. She pushed against his back and lifted herself, then winced. Her back and abs and thighs all ached and burned. Really her whole body. Itching or no itching, she wanted to crawl into a suphrite stream and go back to sleep. "What happened? And are you going to put me down?"

  "Something scared those dragons off, and I didn't recognize the calls. There were at least ten of them still in the grassland, and they all fled."

  That didn't sound good. She was surprised she had slept through that. "Was anything crying?"

  "Crying?" He sounded slightly amused. "No." Pausing, he pressed back another long trailing branch and peered out into the grassland between them and the mountain.

  She swatted his backside as they continued on. "Are you going to let me down?"

  He popped her back playfully. "Why would you do that when you're like this?"

  "Why are you carrying your shirt instead of wearing it?"

  "It's harder for you to admire my body when it's covered."

  She twisted her head to look at him. He sounded like he was smiling. Damn him. He really did have a good body though. She propped her chin on her palm and dug her elbow into his back. "I am capable of walking. Maybe I could admire you better if you set me down."

  "I don't trust you, onion fish."

  Fair enough. Besides, even from this angle, everything hurt. It felt like she had combined an intense gymnastics routine with a marathon. Considering how many times she had nearly slid off the branch last night and all of the running she'd done earlier, maybe the comparison wasn't so far off. "We haven't even been together a year and you don't trust me already? Whatever will we do?"

  He laughed.

  That was a sound she hadn't expected to like so much. "You have a nice laugh."

  "Do I?"

  "Yes, especially when you're not being diabolical."

  "I don't laugh when I am being diabolical."

  "Hmmm. Maybe I just brought it out of you, but you definitely have an evil laugh sometimes."

  "You're thinking of WroOth."

  "You all have evil laughs. Even AaQar has a sinister chuckle. QueQoa is the only one I am not sure about, but I am certain he could manage at least a nefarious snicker."

  "If I had an evil laugh," Naatos said, his tone over solemn as if he had given this a great deal of thought, "I am certain that someone else would have mentioned it before now."

  "You probably killed anyone who might have mentioned it."

  "Bah. I would have remembered. Even if I did kill them. Especially if I killed them. That is not a common subject of conversation in such situations, veskaro. But…" He gave a dramatic sigh. "You like my laugh. That is an improvement. Soon you'll be able to admit you find many other attributes attractive."

  She rolled her eyes. "You know what I would find massively attractive right now?"

  "Do tell."

  "Getting into fresh clothes and getting washed off. A hot bath would be nice, but I'll take the cold water."

  "It'll have to be quick if you don't want hypothermia."

  "I always bathe fast."

  "You do everything you can fast."

  Teasing him about the same was not a smart plan when she was in this position and still feeling the effects of the previous night. "I suppose I do."

  He rubbed the back of her thigh. "It's not a criticism, veskaro."

  "No. But it's true." Between the two of them, she wouldn't have guessed that she would be the one who needed to learn to slow down or enjoy life. Nor would she have guessed how difficult that actually was.

  He carried her back across the grassy field to the pine grove on the edge of the mountain. A relatively small rockslide had taken out several trees, but their own little cave seemed to have missed the majority of the damage.

  Naatos set her down at the entrance and put his doublet back on. Three of the toggles had been ripped off while two hung on by mere threads. "I'm going to see how stable the cave is and make sure nothing else has taken up residence."

  She staggered a little, regaining the strength in her legs as she braced herself against the mountain wall. "I guess if you don't need backup. Then maybe when you're done, you could focus enough to heal me since all of this is more or less your doing."

  He chuckled, then disappeared inside.

  The air was different this morning. She stared out along the path they had taken. The banlo copse looked so far away in the dim light of dawn. Scattered across the grassy field were dozens of ilmas and other creatures, all resting soundly.

  No dolmaths that she could see.

  A loud yelping bellow came from across the field. Three of the ilmas leaped up and charged into the forest. They sounded like massive wildebeests and zebras with their resonant lilting voices.

  Frowning, she stepped away from the mountain. The others still slept. And deeply. Another two bolted up. They disappeared into the forest, their striped flanks shaking with terror.

  The others were rousing as well. Most did not seem to understand the reason for the others fleeing though several meandered. Whatever it was, it wasn't natural.

  Then came a weeping sound. Loud. Terrified.

  "Naatos," she called into the cave. "There's a child crying out
here. I hear them. Naatos!"

  "A child?" He returned to the entrance, scowling.

  "Out there! I hear a child. They need help." She wanted to run, but some other instinct held her in place. Screamed at her that this was wrong. Warned her it was a trap.

  "I smell nothing," he said. "There's no child out there."

  She shook her head, her skin crawling and the urge to run out there growing despite the aching weariness of her legs. It might not be a trap. If there was even a single chance out of a thousand that it was an actual child out there— "I heard them. Couldn't something have been done to mask their scent?"

  "There are only—" Naatos stopped short as four ilmas bolted from the center of the field.

  "They keep doing that. The voice is coming from there." Her mind warned her again that it wasn't real. Her elmis twinged and stung. Children wouldn't be out here alone. Children wouldn't be scentless. Children wouldn't make massive creatures flee like that.

  But it was almost enough to make her sick with worry. What if? What if there was a child? What if—

  The cries grew louder, wailing. "Can't you hear it?" She clenched her fists, every nerve and fiber within her knotting at the cries.

  Naatos's expression had returned to that granite mask. He put his arm in front of her and pressed her back. "Amelia, get into the cave. Get the rels and spread one at the entrance. Do not leave. No matter what you hear."

  Tears welled in her eyes. There was so much horror and sorrow in that voice. It didn't speak her name, but it was calling her. Pleading with her to do something. Something. But what?

  Naatos grabbed her by the face and forced her to look at him. "Veskaro, are you listening?"

  "It's strange," she said with effort, aware of the pressure of his hands on her cheek. Whatever it was didn't want her to speak. But she felt far away. That slipping sensation had returned. "I—I can't stay away. They're calling me. I can't—what if—"

  He glanced from the plain to her, adjusted his spear to a trident, then wrapped his left hand around hers. "You come with me."

  She walked alongside him, the voice growing clearer. It wasn't a child always. Sometimes it was a man, sometimes a boy, sometimes an infant. It tore through her mind, shredding her resolve. That slipping sensation intensified as if she had stepped onto a water slide rather than the damp soil with yellow grass and scattered white pebbles and grey stones.

  More ilmas fled. If things went terribly, there'd be another stampede. All of them broke in the same general direction. Away to the banlo copse. Away from the center. Away from this line.

  But then there were no more ilmas left. The wind bent the grass. It rippled in shades of yellow, gold, and brown.

  Naatos halted, his hand working along the spear. He glanced down at her. "Where is the voice calling you?"

  She pointed to her left. There was no other living creature in this section. At least none she could see. But if she were to follow her instincts, she would have gone there at once. A soft clicking sounded in the back of her mind.

  Her steps grew shakier. Those clicks and cries grew louder.

  Something lunged at her, humanoid in form. It seized her by the arm even as Naatos ripped her back and kicked it in the chest.

  Her skin blistered beneath its touch, but she couldn't move. Not even to pull free. Not even as her skin bubbled and her flesh burned. A whole lifetime flashed before her eyes, pouring into her so fast she could scarcely comprehend more than the fact it was happening. That this was a man. A cake decorator. Tai. Captured and tormented. A dark cell. Red eyes hovering. Pain. So much pain.

  Naatos seized the man and snapped his neck. As he stepped back, acid burns marked his hands. Grunting, he stepped away from the corpse. "Well, that's not good. Amelia. Amelia, where are you? Can you hear me?"

  She saw him. Heard him too. But she couldn't move. Could only watch him through her periphery. Her focus remained on Tai. There was something she was supposed to remember. Failing to remember had caused this man to suffer even more. And he hadn't deserved that. He'd been a good man. Quiet. He made lavender roses from frosting for those with broken hearts as reminders of better days. Made sure the leftover cake went to those in need. Always wore something blue to remember. Remember what?

  That soft clicking in the back of her mind intensified along with the sensation that something was growing within her. A heavy awareness pressed against her shoulders and chest.

  "Amelia." Naatos stepped in front of her. As he took hold of her arm, he channeled healing energy into her. The skin healed at once, the soreness vanishing as well. He cupped his hand beneath her chin and brought her gaze fully to his. "Veskaro?"

  "I was supposed to save him." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "I was supposed to help him. And I didn't. He's dead because of me."

  65

  A Pressing Dilemma

  She felt like a statue. As if whatever force had overridden the will of this poor man had also rooted her in place. The memories he'd poured into her were floodwaters, indiscernible one drop from the next and yet unmistakable as a whole. She couldn't take it, and yet it swirled inside her. Scraps of orange yarn and a trillion lines and thoughts.

  "This wasn't your fault," Naatos said softly. "He was beyond anyone's help. The most we can offer any like him are painless deaths."

  No. That wasn't all. It wasn't!

  Nothing was working though. Not her mouth. Not her hands. Not her legs. It was as if all her energy had shifted to dealing with the memories thrust upon her and a grief so massive it threatened to swallow her up.

  "You can walk?" he asked.

  "I can walk." The words didn't even sound like her. They passed from her lips without her even realizing she had said them until she heard them.

  "We need to go. It isn't safe out here." He looked up into the sky, then back to her. As he took her hand once more, he pulled her toward the mountain.

  She didn't move.

  A heavy thud shook the ground. Movement in her periphery alerted her of arrivals. Her elmis told her it was QueQoa, AaQar, and WroOth. Where had they come from? Someone was asking a question. Multiple questions. Their voices buzzed in her ears as the ground slipped once more, the humming in her bracelet intensifying.

  "She's in shock," Naatos said, his arm still wrapped around her waist. When had he done that? "It touched her."

  That wasn't the problem though. Not the burning. Not the acid. Not the touch.

  It was the heart, the soul, the loss.

  Tai had withered in that place. And they'd done it to him without remorse or pity. Without a second thought beyond the purpose for which they sacrificed everything.

  WroOth stepped in front of her. "Dear heart, it would make me very happy if you could find it in you to blink." He waved his hand in front of her face.

  Her eyes did burn. It should have been easy, but her body refused to respond. A vague fluttering panic rose in her.

  "Might I suggest we take this out of an open field where we are at the most risk for any aerial attacks?" AaQar said.

  WroOth blew into her eyes.

  That stung. But it did the trick. Briefly.

  Shaking her head, she found movement returning, sluggish though it was. She covered her eyes, rubbing them hard as if she could scrub the sensation away.

  "WroOth." Naatos shooed him.

  It was all so strange. So surreal. Her body stopped again, her head angled down.

  Tai was going to propose. Again. They put the ring in his eye, then cut out both. What had happened to that love? Was she caught too? Maybe she had escaped. Where was she?

  Naatos picked up her hand and placed her wrist elmis against his throat just beneath his jaw, her fingers lined against the side of his face to his temple.

  An edge of a breath pushed into her lungs and into her mind.

  He picked her up then, this time with both arms.

  She found enough will to move her other hand to his face and rested her wrist elmis against him.

&nbs
p; Then she counted his breaths and matched hers to his between the murky memories. There was no more sliding though. Tai's memories, jagged and murky as they were, played through her mind. Or rather tried to. The faces were blurred and runny, the sensations vaguely disturbing. He'd fallen in love many times. Eight at least. Friends with all of his exes. Somehow. Three children who were—safe? Maybe yes, maybe no. More heartbreak and so much sorrow.

  They made their way back to the cave as the world came alive again. Nothing strange or unusual now.

  She almost laughed at that once Naatos set her down on the pile of hides and furs. Prehistoric creatures lived here. Dragons as well. Snakes with wings full of teeth. All carnivores. All predators. Aura storms. Soul eaters and soul crushers. Yes. Everything was ordinary. For Ecekom.

  "You should probably rest." Naatos checked her pulse. "Do you remember your name?"

  "Which one?" She managed a weak smile. At least breathing was easier. The remnants of disorientation remained, weights hanging on her arms and legs. But her mind was moving easier as if the flood had receded.

  "Whichever one you want me to call you."

  "Amelia then. Not onion fish."

  "So you are feeling better? You seem to be moving easier. And you're blinking normally."

  The smile faded. "I felt everything from him. His name was Tai. It was so much."

  "I know." He smoothed her hair back. "Those with dying souls are desperate to tell their stories. They want their sorrow heard. They will latch onto you as if you are their only hope in an ocean. And they will drown you if you don't pull free in time. What makes the unformed ones especially difficult is that some are made so that no barriers of the mind can hold back their stories. Their pasts and their sorrows are a weapon against Neyeb and Machat. None of it was your fault though."