"They may have moved to other territories."
"Possibly." WroOth lifted his shoulder slightly, his lips pressed in a tighter line. "Whoever made these dragons did so with only vile intent. And they probably destroyed quite a lot on the way to doing so. Even without those dragons though, the canopy over Dry Deep is one of the more ferocious I've ever seen and also the most unstable," WroOth said, no jesting in his tone. "I saw three arboreal crocs crash through as if the branches and leaves were made of paper, and that used to be unheard of. If this plan to cross the canyon doesn't work, we aren't going to have any other choice. We can't go around, and we can't go over."
"You don't think we can make it through the canyon?" Though he refused to say so aloud, Naatos had similar concerns. There was an ominous tension around this place. The scorpion scent as well as that of the dragons were strong enough now to almost overpower all else when the wind blew against his face as it did now, and they were still perhaps half a day away from the changed starting point AaQar recommended.
"They may be pack hunters, but they have no loyalty to one another when there isn't something else to battle or some larger purpose."
"Whoever made them probably intended that to help regulate their population," Naatos said. "If their purpose was to hunt and destroy Vawtrians, they obviously couldn't rely on us to kill them which means they needed some other method to keep them from overrunning the world."
"Something did overrun it," WroOth agreed. The worry lines returned to his brow and along his eyes as he cast his gaze about the camp. "It feels wrong here. And what we'll find in Darmoste—"
Something moved in the darkness. Footsteps, multiples, struck the ground, large points puncturing the dirt and striking the rock. Based on the clicks, it wasn't reptilian or mammalian. The unpleasant odor announced its identity as the wind shifted. Scorpion.
Angular orange eyes glittered when it emerged into the moonlight from the brush.
Naatos raised an eyebrow. "That's a rock scorpion?"
WroOth laughed dryly. "A young one at that. Everything got bigger and meaner."
He'd never seen one that large; its front claws were thicker than his waist. The dark carapace glistened like oil beneath the moonlight. Four more followed beyond. "They don't like light."
WroOth's brow was already arched. "Which begs the question, what's drawing them here?"
"Nothing good. They're acting as if we provoked them." The rels barrier was about thirty feet beyond the firelight. The nearest of the scorpions halted. It waved its massive claws around. From this point, the creature looked to be nearly six feet in height from bottommost claws to the top arch of the tail. It moved along the edge of the rels as the others joined in. The clicks from their carapaces and the working of their mouths formed a discordant song. One of the smaller ones moved into the open where the pine branches offered no cover.
A shadow swooped out from the treeline farther to the north, the heavy rush of wings and the pungent scent of rotting flesh and reptilian oil leaving little doubt about what was coming.
It dropped almost on top of one of the scorpions. Dragon. All five converged on the dragon at once.
The nearest scorpion's stinger caught the dragon in its gum. Enraged, the dragon attempted to catch the tail but missed. The scorpion then fell back as two more swept in, pinching and stinging.
Biting and snarling, the dragon took down two but sustained multiple stings. It ripped out the stinger of the third.
With each wound, the dragon slowed. The scorpions struck at the gums, tongue, and eyes. Several times they went for the webbing between the claws. The raging screech of the single dragon raced out into the night.
That call for aid came too late though five dragon shapes shot out from the mountain ledges overlooking the canyon. The remaining two scorpions lashed out and savaged the dragon, despite one being grievously wounded.
WroOth moved to intervene, but Naatos gripped him by the arm. "Those dragons push the boundaries on the rels and show significant intelligence. If you put that one out of its misery, they may mark you. It's almost over."
"Yes, but if we can get the body, we can analyze it."
"Not worth risking your life." Naatos set his jaw. The future had become so distorted—his priorities utterly upended—yet one thing remained utterly plain and consistent. His family mattered. That was all. At points, he felt that this time in the wilderness would never end and at others it was only a stepping stone. Everything revolved around keeping what remained of his family safe. From dragons. From the Okalu. From this world. From the Ki Valo Nakar. "We'll get whatever the dragons leave behind."
Scoffing, WroOth fell back half a step.
No witty comeback this time? No wry remark? He refrained from commenting despite his surprise. Perhaps all of them were changing. Perhaps it was only weariness from the journey. Or maybe it was something more.
The dragon collapsed as the scorpions wreaked their final blows. The incoming dragons bellowed into the night. They dropped down on the scorpions and ripped them into the air. Though one of the scorpions nearly managed to get away, two of the dragons corralled it back while the third snatched it up with its massive silver claws.
WroOth whistled low as the dragons flew out over the grassy plain. They dropped what remained of the scorpions. They were somehow still alive, their flailing bodies twisting in the cool night air. The dragons continued on until they reached the mountains. "Vindictive beasts, aren't they?"
Naatos gathered up a couple coils of rope from the pack and tossed one to WroOth. "Let's bring the dragon and scorpion corpses in now. We'll hang them from the turquoise ash."
* * *
Those orbs in their chests shone brighter. Amelia's fingertips almost burned with the cold energy. It was practically leaping from her now as she backed away, her palms turned up to the night sky.
The call and response intensified. The will that sent them—the Okalu—meant her harm, but they would never touch her.
She swept her fingers through the air, catching the shining tendrils and snapping them to herself. The nearest unformed one collapsed, the orb breaking free and darting to her palm. Lan, a quiet florist who had just wanted to go home. No one important if Lan was to be believed.
The other three charged. Some spur of terror cut into her consciousness, muted in the haze.
Stepping back, she cradled the one orb in the crook of her elbow. The flow of the energy and the arc through her fingertips did all the work, calling to those shining orbs in each of their chests.
The nearest unformed one swiped a hand near her, a rage-filled brush that almost caught her
Backing away, Amelia drew her hand through the air and snagged those threads. Within a breath, she snapped it taut. The orb sailed free, and the body fell.
Komawai, she loved walking through a forest much like this, and this place filled her with sorrow because they'd used that love to capture her. Caught and dragged her to a dark place and crushed Komawai so deep into her own mind that she couldn't remember much of anything but her.
The other two lunged at her. She darted back. The orbs burned so bright in their chests that the rays of light pierced the darkness.
So easy. So beautifully easy.
The souls snapped free, the bindings cracked, the bodies fell.
Rab Sel, little more than a child when taken, fond of stacking stones at the river's edge and determined to walk the length of the Pelcaps. Owamaro, a fisherman who loved to use bleached fishbones in art and believed that every part of every creature and plant should be used.
Straightening her shoulders, she studied the four orbs now lining her arms. Their voices continued to weep, and why shouldn't they? What had happened to them was cruel beyond measure. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I'm so very sorry." A stream of a song came to her mind. She hummed it as she comforted and soothed.
The sobs continued, quieter and softer. So much loss. So much waste. Tormented and devastated. Even if their lives ha
d been rich and full and this had happened in the final seconds, it was a horror.
Energy poured out of her and over the opalescent orbs. A vague draining sensation tugged at the edges of her consciousness as if she were giving blood. Too much blood. But stopping wasn't an option. Poor darlings. What little she could give they should have. How could she deny them comfort now?
The haze intensified in her mind; the faint buzzing in her ears melded with the quiet song. Then it was finished.
She opened her arms, and they rose, they flew. Flew up into the sky to where the night cracked open. The crack sealed. She continued to stare up at the point they had vanished.
A sharp pain struck through the arch of her foot and up her leg, almost dropping her to the ground and into darkness. Kneeling, she clutched at it. A dark line moved along her ankle and in her heel. A heavy painful pulse. Then, like a bad cramp, it faded. Her foot looked completely normal.
Nothing important.
Just what was.
She stepped out from among the trees and walked to the top of the hill. It overlooked the valley that led to the mountains. From here, she saw it all. The narrow canyon and the broad black-tree filled expanse of the Dry Deep. All was calm. Beautiful. Somber. Mysterious. It occurred to her that she too could fly if she really put her mind to it. Dreams about flying were some of the best. And this wind, so light and cool, beckoned her.
Some part of her still refused though. It wasn't her time to fly. It wasn't her time for many things.
The guttural discordant voice whispered in her ear. "You cannot avoid Dry Deep any more than you can avoid me."
She smiled, her eyelids nearly sliding shut. "Maybe not, but you'll never rule me. I know who I am."
"Do you? Who are you, little thing?"
The words curled through her mind. She swayed in the wind at the edge of the hilltop, peering down. Her name eluded her. It had vanished somewhere in this mist. "That doesn't matter right now. As long as I'm not you. As long as we are separate."
"That's not how this works."
"You're in my head. This is my body. I decide how it does and doesn't work."
"Not once you enter Dry Deep."
"So I won't." She sat on the edge of the cliff and combed her fingers through her hair. "You don't own me. You don't rule me. You're loud and insistent, and I can never remember you when I need to." That song returned to her mind, and she hummed it. "I'll very happily die before I let you run me."
"I don't want you to die," the voice whispered.
She laughed. "Everyone dies. It's just a matter of when and who you are before you go. You don't want me to die? Don't push me." Rolling onto her back, she stared up into the sky at the great full moon and wondered why there was only one. So lonely for there to be only one. So much better if there were two.
She let her eyes slide shut the rest of the way, aware of the wind picking up and the tugging sensation once again.
* * *
It took longer than Naatos anticipated to drag back both the dragons and what remained of the scorpions. He and WroOth hauled them to the riverside and then hung them in the broad turquoise ash with its solid multi-fingered branches. He was just securing the knot when the dolmath suddenly shrieked, its voice a mass of chirrs and clicks.
Naatos turned. The hammock hung slack, the bulge in the center square and apparently only the books. The edges of the blanket hung over the side. "Amelia?"
WroOth raised an eyebrow as he circled back from the other side of the tree. "What happened? She's gone? Again? How?"
The dolmath continued to chirp and cry out, scrambling along the edge of the hammock. It didn't sound as it would if an unformed one was near. This was just frustration and annoyance at no longer having its favorite person.
WroOth pressed the hammock open and lifted each of the books as if she might be under one of them. "Amelia, where have you gone?"
After circling the tree, Naatos crouched down and peered beneath the tree roots. Her hand was barely visible in the darkness. "Amelia."
She groaned. "There shouldn't be just one."
"What are you doing?" he asked, scowling. "It isn't safe under there." Stretching in, he caught hold of her arm and pulled her out.
She curled up against him, her breaths almost too quiet. "I was looking for something."
"What were you looking for?" Her face was badly bruised once more. The healing took longer to take effect, the purple-red scrapes resisting.
"She isn't awake, Naatos." WroOth tilted his head as he studied her. "Was she sleepwalking?"
That would be one of the signs of the Ki Valo Nakar. A vague sense of hopelessness threatened to overwhelm him, but he cut it back, refusing to let it clench his lungs or tighten his muscles. There was a bit of an incline between the hammock and the tree roots. If she'd fallen though, how had he not heard that? Even if she had gotten up. She was quiet when she chose to be. But there were limits to that for someone like her. Especially when she had three books of that size and weight as well as a dolmath to contend with.
That odd smell clung to her as well. Similar to lightning but colder and crisper. When he had encountered the Ki Valo Nakar, its scent had been bloody, rotten, and centipede-like. There had been some minor variations in the different encounters, but this was nothing like it.
He carried her over to the fire and laid her down. Her fingers were as cold as if she'd been handling ice, her palms and arms not much better. Even after he healed her, her cheeks remained somewhat flushed. His fingers lingered against her jaw as he studied her. No fear or unease marred her sleep. Odd as everything else was, she appeared at peace. A faint smile even turned up the corners of her full lips. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought this was a good thing.
If it weren't for the fact he couldn't explain how she got to be under the tree roots without anyone hearing her, he would have been comforted. But that and last night with the cliff left him with no viable answers.
QueQoa gripped his shoulder as he passed by. "I'm awake. I'll start my shift early." Sniffing the air, a scowl passed over his broad features. "Another scorpion attacked?"
"They must have thought we'd be an easy kill," WroOth said. "Makes one wonder if the prey is scarcer through here. They'll cannibalize one another if necessary, but maybe we seem like an easier attack. Or we're on their territory and they're annoyed"
Scorpions in Ecekom could be exceptionally territorial. The dolmaths certainly didn't like them. Nor could Naatos blame them. He disliked even their smell. The scent of the scorpions and dragons combined had almost swallowed up every other in the camp. Even Amelia's.
He selected a length of rope and tied it round Amelia's ankle, measured out ten feet, and then tied the other end to his own. If she was going to roll away again, at least he'd know where she was even if her scent vanished.
74
A Vawtrian Tradition
Her dreams were a haze of confusing images that vanished as soon as she woke. The lightness she'd experienced the other morning was even stronger, but now—now it unnerved her.
She cracked her eyelids, taking in the morning. That pungent scorpion scent had intensified, but she also smelled roasting fish and something bloody. Almost as bad a morning start as morning breath. She was no longer in the hammock. Naatos's arm over her waist and the firm, comforting warmth of his body behind her confirmed she'd slept through the night. When had he come to get her? She couldn't even remember stirring, let alone moving.
Something felt off though. Off and strange.
She pressed her hand to her heart.
It was as if there wasn't as much of her left. As if she had given too much blood only a few minutes ago. Her ears rang, and her heart pounded a little too fast. Her stomach burned as well. Stress perhaps? There had been enough of it.
She pushed at Naatos's arm. It remained unrelentingly tight around her waist. If they were alone, there were other ways she might have been able to wake him. But QueQoa and AaQar were both awake
and near, QueQoa feeding Proteus and AaQar preparing breakfast. Twisting around, she kissed his cheek. "Good morning. Let go of me. I need to get up."
He cracked his eyelids, then grunted. "Sleep longer."
"You can sleep as late as you like," she said, tugging on a strand of his hair. "But I need to get up."
He made some indiscernible noise in the back of his throat.
"If I kiss you again, will you let me get up?"
"You can try." The corners of his mouth turned up.
"Extortionist." Leaning up, she planted a firm kiss on his mouth.
He clasped the back of her head as he met her lips and drew her closer. His other snaked around her waist. Before he could lift her onto himself, she pulled back. "We're not alone." She kissed her palm and pressed it to his forehead.
"Hmmm." He let his hand drift down to her shoulder. "How many times do I have to tell you no one minds?" A lazy smile spread over his face.
"Maybe a few more times. Or maybe I just have to learn how to loosen up. Some other day. Not this one." She stood and started to walk away when something snapped taught around her ankle. With a sharp cry, she fell. "What's this?! Did you tie me to you?"
"Hmmm. Yes, I tied your ankle to mine last night because you disappeared again." Naatos sat up. "You were under that tree. Do you remember?"
"No." She untied the rope and tossed it aside. "Not at all. And I'm not sure what to think about that." Tilting her head, she studied the tree roots near her hammock. There was a bit of a dip around the roots. All of the trees with roots like that had similar grooves and dips. "I must have been really tired." That didn't feel right. She had been tired, but tired enough to fall and not feel it?
"You were quiet enough I didn't even hear you fall."
She untied the rope from his ankle as well and then coiled up the rope. "That's weird." There was a lot of weirdness these days. "Did I try to walk off? I've never sleepwalked before. Fallen out of bed a few times, yes. More than a few really. Even sleepwalking, I couldn't do that without you or someone hearing me, right?"
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