Wilderness Untamed

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Wilderness Untamed Page 72

by Butler, J. M.


  "Oh they do. Usually I waste them. Just easier than undoing all the laces. But—"

  "Help AaQar secure the load on the bavril," Naatos said, coming up behind WroOth. "Some of those serpents got at the straps."

  WroOth nudged Naatos with his black boot and gestured in a not-so-subtle fashion toward Amelia's left foot. "Well we wouldn't want anything falling apart on this trip or coming undone."

  Naatos crouched in front of her so he was eye level. "We're going to go the rest of the afternoon and a little into the night to make sure we put as much distance between us and where the unformed ones were. They are fast, but we can go faster. If you can't keep on, you just have to let us know. I'll carry you."

  "Do you really think I need to be carried?" She smiled at him.

  "I do. And the only reason no one is is because you aren't slowing us down. The moment you do—"

  "Thank you. It's romantic how you want to constantly sweep me off my feet. Although I didn't mind the way you carried me this morning after the unformed one." Her heart fluttered a little faster. The blush didn't bother her as it returned this time.

  "Well, that won't happen again today, I'm afraid. I can't fight and hold you like that."

  "I'm surprised you'd admit to a weakness like that. Fortunately, I'm not asking you to. Just letting you know I prefer that to being draped over your shoulder like a carcass."

  "If it is any consolation, veskaro, I don't carry carcasses or prisoners like that. I drag them. Or I'd tie them up behind the bavril and let him drag them."

  She blinked, then shook her head. "You can be sweet without adding something horrifying to the statement, you know. It really isn't necessary to create that kind of contrast."

  He chuckled as he tilted her head back, his thumbs pressing along her eyelids. "Let me see your eyes now."

  "Why do you keep checking my eyes?"

  "Because I like them."

  "You know it's really easy for me to tell you're lying when you have your hands on me."

  He smiled slightly. "Why were you checking your foot?"

  Of course he was still looking into her eyes. She quirked up her mouth. "Hmmmm. Little hard to answer that when you're staring into my eyes."

  "At least if you're going to answer, answer me honestly."

  She shook her head. As a Neyeb, she had far too many tells. "My foot is worse than it was yesterday."

  "Let me see."

  She drew her foot back behind the other. "Not right now. There's nothing to be done, and you've got enough to worry about."

  "I'm not worried."

  Such a liar. She smiled and then slid her hand in his. "Right now I'm not slowing anyone down. If you or someone else has to carry me, I will slow us down. At a minimum, you'll use up energy that would be better used elsewhere. So trust me. I'm fine. When I need help, I'll let you know."

  "With words or by passing out?"

  "Either or."

  "Words, Amelia. You like using words. So do. And if you even hear a hint of someone else out here, you let us know."

  "Will they always be crying?"

  "For you, probably." He caressed her cheek. "But if it starts to cause problems for you, pretend I just said you couldn't fight it."

  This was where having a good nickname for him would be useful. But none of the ones that came to mind worked. So she huffed at him and rolled her eyes instead, finished tying off her boot, and stood.

  "Your foot's worse isn't it?" QueQoa asked as they resumed walking.

  "A little," she admitted.

  "You can ride on my back if you prefer that to being carried. Not that it's without its risks. Predators usually attack the tallest thing first so we'd need to determine how it could be done safely."

  "I prefer using my own feet as long as they'll carry me. But you're kind." They all could be. Especially considering that for them such things were easily removed. The fact that hers couldn't be had somehow become all of their burden. All of her was a burden. She hated that as much as she loved them. It didn't really balance out, but it was something to be grateful for. It was also something to dwell on more than Tai and the unformed ones.

  They carried on until sunset. No dolmaths came to join them, and Tacky chittered louder than usual. Amelia carried him with her as soon as it was dark. When she opened his pack, she found him shaking. No matter how she stroked or hummed, nothing soothed him. "Where are the dolmaths?" she asked.

  "We may be entering scorpion territory," AaQar said. "They eat dolmaths like candy."

  "Little far from the mountains for them, don't you think?" WroOth asked. He paced out to the right and then resumed walking beside Amelia. "They'll have had to adapt their hunting style."

  "I'm assuming your scorpions are a fair bit larger than ours on Eiram," she said.

  "Oh yes," WroOth said. "We have all kinds of scorpions too."

  "There are over two thousand species on Eiram, but most are harmless. The family Scorpionidae has some of the biggest. But really it's less than forty that can kill a person. I'm guessing yours are much more lethal."

  "Even the nonvenomous ones, dear heart." He shook his head. "You do carry a lot of random knowledge in that head of yours."

  "I'm oddly good at it." Plus years of reading Animal Fact Files. She'd loved those monthly deliveries.

  "Well, tell me something I don't know."

  She shrugged. It was nice to focus on something other than Tai. "I worked with scorpions. You really have to be careful with them. Their anus actually extends out to the tail just beneath the stinger. And if a scorpion performs autotomy where it sheds its tail to escape a predator, the tail will never grow back. Which means that the scorpion can't defecate. And it will die in about eight months from constipation. Not all of them can do that though."

  "That's disgusting," QueQoa said.

  WroOth stopped short, frowning. "I may need to add parameters when I ask you to tell me something I don't know."

  "I have to ask," QueQoa said slowly. "Do they explode?"

  "Internally."

  "That's much less dramatic than what I envisioned."

  "They're really small too. At least compared to yours." She held up her hands to demonstrate. "The emperor scorpions I took care of could fit in the palm of my hand." That seemed like ages ago. The small blue mark its stinger had left was long gone.

  "I've boxed scorpions before," QueQoa said. "The smallest was bigger than you. Generally it's wise to go for the eyes. With scorpions, that's challenging."

  "How do you fight a scorpion?"

  "How does QueQoa fight a scorpion or how would someone like you fight a scorpion?" WroOth asked.

  "We never covered them in training."

  "Mostly because I don't have a scorpion form," QueQoa said. "Neither does WroOth."

  "Well, I have an excellent scorpion dragon form," WroOth interjected. "But it's hardly the same thing. Really I never found anything from any of the arachnid families particularly compelling for shifting purposes. But Naatos mastered a variety of scorpion forms. All bigger than you of course."

  "Of course." She continued to scratch Tacky's head. He refused to be comforted entirely, but he accepted the added snuggles.

  The night was intensely quiet. Even without the dolmaths, all of the creatures had fallen asleep or become terrifyingly still. The moon above poured out silver-white light that made the shadows of the grass and branches seem like blades. The mountains loomed ahead like giants, waiting to attack.

  Her skin prickled with unease, the muscles in her back tight. There hadn't been an attack for a full two hours, but there was something, something out there. Not even the wind stirred the grass now.

  Proteus's long moan grated across her nerves. She patted his backside and gave a slight shake to a handful of hair. "It's all right, big fella." Tacky's subsequent chitterings suggested he agreed with Proteus on whatever was happening. "Do bavrils not like scorpions either?"

  "They can't drain them as easily as other prey," AaQar
said. "And they hate the smell. Hard to blame them for that."

  Amelia sniffed the air. Once she had made a trip to pick up a rescue, six emperor scorpions who had been so badly neglected that the stench of their tank struck her as soon as she entered the room. A smell like rotting flesh and mold with the slightest hint of vinegar. Probably because of the food and insect carcasses left inside. This didn't smell like that. But there was something. A trace of vinegar. Some sulfur. An iron-like scent. What was dragon and what was scorpion? Her sense of smell was far from her strongest strength. All she knew for certain was it didn't smell great. "Do they hunt at night?"

  "Much of the time, yes," Naatos said. He drew in a deep breath as if testing the air. "They don't smell right. Part mountain scorpion. Part… I'm not sure. And those dragons are near."

  "They probably have a nest along the Pelcaps. Perhaps more than one." AaQar took a long searching glance around. "If this is the same pack, they have a large territory. They'll grow more aggressive the closer we get to their nest."

  "If they notice us," Naatos said.

  Not being noticed by these dragons seemed like it would be a miracle in and of itself. It helped of course that they were relatively small compared to these dragons. They'd be little more than mouthfuls, certainly not enough to satisfy even a single dragon.

  They carried on for awhile longer, the unease of the night intensifying. At last they found a spot Naatos deemed satisfactory, an area with a broad series of stones that offered some measure of shelter, a river not too far off, and an abundance of maples, oaks, and banlos to provide coverage. The soil and mixed yellow and green grasses were interspersed with broad patches of stone, the flowers sparser and duller in color.

  Everyone set about their tasks in preparing for what limited rest they would take.

  Once the fire sparked into life, the night seemed less oppressive. If there had been a suphrite stream nearby, that would have been incredible. But this, it was enough.

  QueQoa went out and returned with two large silver-blue fish, similar to a sturgeon, complete with long snout and barbels. Large pinkish-silver dots circled its tail. Amelia helped him break one down while Proteus consumed the second, much slower than usual. Naatos and WroOth both went out to scout.

  "Is there a limit to how many unformed ones there can be?" Amelia asked.

  "They are only limited by the will of the malformer," AaQar said. "It takes a great deal of strength to crush the soul down in such a fashion and reshape the physical form."

  "Any death would be kinder than that." QueQoa cleaned the blade of his knife. "They say that they see all that they are forced to do."

  Amelia washed her hands in the small pool AaQar had dug off the river. As she dried them, she stood and took in the night. A beautiful night by any standard, all indigo-black with no clouds to obscure the many colorful stars beaming above. The river itself ran another fifty feet away, angling out beneath the open sky from the trees. No cries reached her now, but Tai's echoed in her mind. "Will I always carry them with me?"

  "I don't know, little sister. I know that the Neyeb had numerous ceremonies and rituals as well as a regular, well, festival isn't quite the right word for it, but a gathering in which all would come together. In it, they would care for one another. My understanding is that in part it was to help them reorient and mend the wounds to their own minds after their tasks. All the Neyeb would return for this. Healing and listening aren't things that are meant to be done in isolation. Community that understands this and how to help one another is essential. And for this…" He shook his head. "I don't know how to help you. None of us do."

  "You've tried to help. That counts for something. Sometimes the people we care about go through things we don't know how to fix or even improve. And—" She lifted her shoulders as she pressed her elmis back to her torso. "It's better than dealing with it alone."

  "Perhaps." AaQar did not sound convinced. "Show me your foot now."

  Sighing, she sat on the boulder and removed both boots and socks. "I don't know why it got worse. I don't think it was the walking. We walked longer today than we have in a long while, and it hasn't grown at all. But between last night and now, well—"

  AaQar lifted her ankle, then stiffened.

  QueQoa's face twisted as he whistled. "That is bad."

  "And this is why I don't like you looking over my shoulder when I am handling medical situations," AaQar said.

  "She knows it's bad. She's a mindreader, and it's her foot. Besides, look at her face." QueQoa crossed over to the bags and removed a machete. He ran a cloth over it and then began sharpening it.

  "That's…" Amelia pressed her lips in a tight line. "That's even less encouraging than telling me it's bad."

  "Veins like that are never good," QueQoa said.

  AaQar shook his head. "How much pain are you in, Amelia?"

  "It aches. But it's manageable. A bad bruise with a little inflammation." The whirring of that blade on the whetstone grated on her nerves. "I just—I don't know what's causing it. I've had it since we got here. Maybe since I was flogged. So maybe it's a reaction to whatever venom they put on the cat o' nine tails."

  "Yes, but this is a drastic increase. It has only grown marginally in the past weeks. Now it doubles and puts out veins?" AaQar tested the skin on her foot.

  "Could the unformed ones have anything to do with it?" QueQoa asked.

  "It's possible." AaQar pinched his brow. "This smells familiar. I just can't remember from where. It was a long time ago."

  "What if it's the Ki Valo Nakar?"

  "I met two Neyeb who were hosts for the Ki Valo Nakar. To my knowledge, none of them had anything like this."

  "Presumably they cooperated though," QueQoa pointed out. "She has not. Sinara and the other Neyeb bound it inside her. Maybe it's angry."

  AaQar lowered her foot to the ground. "Was your foot this bad before you and Naatos vestoved?"

  "No… not this bad."

  "Then you have had two entirely distinct encounters that could be responsible for this. If you're not in pain, I'd like to watch this further. If we can determine what is causing it to expand, we have a better chance at stopping it. We aren't in a good place to conduct such an operation."

  "Complications or something?" she suggested. "Naatos said he could heal me quickly. That it would take less than a minute. Not that I want to do it."

  "You had similar veins in the small of your back and also in the middle of your back when we first put you in the suphrite. I don't know whether the suphrite cured those. It may have. It may even cure these. We need to find out how extensive this is. If those are still there, then there is no purpose in stressing your body and taxing Naatos's energy."

  "Field surgery. Sounds about right." She tightened her arms around herself. "Well, if that's the only course…"

  "Stay off it for the rest of the night if you can. And eat."

  "I can do some more work on my mindreading. Maybe I can even reach Rasha."

  AaQar shook his head as he stood. "That's not something you should burden yourself with. It was a miracle she got through at all."

  Perhaps so. But it troubled Amelia that she hadn't managed to get through. In between cooking up the fish, she read and practiced her exercises. According to Naatos, there was no way to shield or block the unformed ones getting through. The books had nothing on the unformed ones at all.

  They did not wait for WroOth and Naatos to return to eat. Afterward, Amelia and AaQar cleaned up while QueQoa slept. Though AaQar suggested she should sleep as well, she declined. If she slept, she would dream, and she didn't want the dreams that were certain to come from this.

  The night was half over when WroOth landed, shifting seconds before his feet struck the ground. The massive bloody bone he gripped in his talons dropped and bounced, narrowly missing him when he landed. "Good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

  AaQar shook his head, his expression suggesting this was not the first time he'd been aske
d to answer this question. "Just tell me."

  "Bad news first," Amelia said.

  WroOth gestured toward her. "In honor of our sister, the bad news is that the Pelcap Pass is entirely blocked up. And it is crawling with besreds and cabizas as well as boulder scorpions and whip teeth. Possibly a manticore. If we were flying light and fast, we might be able to make it. But even in the safe zone, it's too great a risk."

  "So what's the good news?" QueQoa sat up blearily and pointed toward the bone. "And what's that?" He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as the blanket fell from his chest.

  "Those besreds hate the big pack dragons, and they can take them down. No matter what they're made of, it isn't enough to withstand those acid jaws. But even better—and perhaps a little worse too, those dragons' bones and that armor is made of living steel. Including their stomachs. That actually is more in the bad news admittedly."

  "That means you can make more rels, doesn't it?" Amelia asked. "What's bad about it?"

  WroOth tossed the bone to AaQar. "You can tell better than I, but that seems pretty clear. As for why this isn't all good news, dear heart, there's no way that this evolved naturally. And even worse, if one of us gets swallowed, there's no easy way out before death. These dragons were made to hunt and kill Vawtrians."

  67

  Seeking Still

  AaQar examined the bone, his brow lifted. The blood streaked across his grey robe and trousers. "You're certain the stomach was made from this as well."

  "It was a little large and a little crowded to try grabbing more of a sample than what I got. Those besreds didn't appreciate my interference. Even snapping off that bit of rib was challenging. You can use this to start making rels though."

  "After it's dried and prepared," AaQar said. "It'll have to cure for at least a week. Then we'll see."

  "I didn't see any ilthun salt out there." QueQoa folded the blanket. "It'll probably take longer."

  The rushing in the air plus that distinctive presence announced Naatos's return.

 

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