Wilderness Untamed

by Butler, J. M.

  A deep and steady rumbling sounded as boulders tumbled down the mountain.

  The dragons fanned out, the air above them full of terrified reptiles desperate to escape. WroOth dropped lower across the canopy, his claws scraping the leaves and ripping through branches. They shot out past the canopy over Dry Deep.

  Down below, three figures raced alongside a bavril with a sledge. As if there could be anyone else.

  WroOth swooped down to the base of the ravine. Dry Deep yawned before them, clusters of thick black-barked tree, heavy ivy, and massive stones preventing anything larger than a creature like Proteus from getting through. A strange scent like rot and must, heavy and unpleasant, reached Amelia even from this distance.

  "We should be safe here." WroOth returned to his state of rest. He was practically yelling to be heard over the din. "The scorpions and dragons won't come any closer to Dry Deep if they can help it." He lifted his hand in greeting toward his brothers as they drew closer. "And if they do, well, we'll handle it."

  The roars and shaking faded away as if she ceased to be part of this place, and there was only that dark forest. The hum in her ears and her mind tried to draw her farther into it.

  It called.

  The voice tugged.

  Elonumato, please, please, don't let this happen. Protect me. Protect us.

  The voice within her mind pulled harder now, as if threads had been connected to her hands and her feet and now were drawn into that darkness. She could practically see them. Fine moon-silver threads.

  Her body grew light, unsteady even on the flat grey soil. Though she tried to dig her heels in, she couldn't tell whether it worked. Her limbs no longer responded to her. Just a breeze might send her shooting into that place. That cold bead in her mind throbbed and expanded.

  We're almost out of time.

  Hurry.

  It had to be soon.

  Ask.

  Strong arms swept around her and crushed her close.

  She had to come back. Heat pressed against her body, guiding her in. There was a hand against the back of her head, and her face was pressed into a shoulder. Her eyelids slid shut as the humming intensified.

  All of her senses snapped back as the din deafened her once more. She collapsed against Naatos and wrapped her arms around his neck. Of course he'd healed. She hugged him tight, words failing her as tears pricked in her eyes.

  The ground shook. Boulders crashed and rolled down as if something was shredding the mountain itself. Then with an even louder roar, a sheet of the mountain tore free, an enormous cloud of dust rising up over the rock slide.

  Scorpions crested the top of the ravine and plunged down, fleeing to the relative safety of the secluded ravine and away from the rockslide that would soon cover the grassland.

  WroOth swore, the words mostly swallowed in the chaos.

  "We have to go!" AaQar pointed toward Dry Deep.

  Proteus had already lunged toward the largest gap in the Dry Deep forest. QueQoa ran along beside him, holding the halter.

  WroOth followed reluctantly, casting a glare at the scorpions. They were halfway there already, shining in the moonlight, claws waving. More and more followed behind them as the dust cloud rose higher and more stones tore away.

  AaQar gestured at both Naatos and Amelia to hurry. But Naatos held onto her, his arms tight and his face lined. "We won't stay."

  She nodded, but she knew it wasn't true. No matter how much he wanted it to be. He lowered her and gripped her hand. She squeezed.

  Some things were just inevitable.

  80

  The Forest Between

  They plunged into the forest. Though the canopy above was not so thick, the light that filtered through was barely enough to show the way. Amelia stumbled along, relying on Naatos to guide her. The hard ashy earth offered no give, and the trees were packed so close together it was like running through a labyrinth.

  At last they reached a clearing where the trees had more branches that intertwined and the trunks were farther apart. Moonlight spilled out here as if it had been poured from an urn.

  The rumble of the rock slide had faded as had the sounds of the fleeing wildlife. Everything went exceptionally still except for the harsh unevenness of their family's breathing.

  AaQar braced himself against a tree with one arm, his other hand pressed protectively over his chest. "I don't think the scorpions can fit through the trees. I don't hear them at least. Or smell them for that matter."

  "They weren't supposed to come into the ravine at all," WroOth muttered. He rested his hands on the top of his head as he turned around slowly, examining their new location. "And the rels were supposed to keep the dragons away."

  QueQoa dropped down on a boulder, his eyes half closed. Proteus dropped down as well as Tacky clambered off his back and scurried up to Amelia.

  Stooping, she scooped the dolmath up. "I didn't think you'd want to see me after all that."

  He purred, snuggling into her arms as she examined him.

  Naatos was already making a circle with the rels. "We'll at least see if this makes a difference here," he said. "But stay alert. There shouldn't be anything here until we are farther in, but—" He shook his head, his expression sour. "I'm going to find water and possibly food. Someone get the fire going."

  "I'll handle that," WroOth said.

  "Don't set the forest on fire. Tonight has been trying enough." Naatos had already disappeared into the forest.

  "I would do it just for spite if he weren't right," WroOth said.

  Naatos returned to the clearing and pointed at her. "Do not leave the rels. And do not go find any more scorpions or dragons or creatures of any type."

  She raised her eyebrow. "I love you too," she said dryly.

  "I mean it."

  "Me too."

  As he disappeared back into the forest, WroOth grinned at her. "Do you want to come with me to get kindling?"

  She started to agree but paused when she realized blood was flowing through AaQar's fingers. His tunic was drenched. That wound—this toal—still hadn't healed. "Maybe next time." She removed the salve from her satchel and crossed over to AaQar. QueQoa left with WroOth. "Are you sure this won't help?"

  AaQar shook his head and forced a smile. "No. It can be very insistent, and it can be challenging to keep the damage contained. But my own healing must suffice."

  "What's a toal? Can anything be done to help? Do you need food maybe? I think there's roasted meat in one of the packs."

  The smile wavered. "Do you know how I understood you were a healer?"

  "You're observant." Tacky pawed at her leg once more, so she lifted the small dolmath back into her arms.

  Sighing, he dropped his gaze, then put his hand over the sealing wound. "Healer heal thyself. And yet we rarely can."

  She studied him, taking in the odd sensations and most aware of the grief. It wasn't what she expected. Grief always overshadowed him, pinching and biting, some days more intense. But it had roused itself far more than she expected.

  "This—" He pointed to his chest. "It isn't particularly common, but a few Vawtrians are born with the ability to share their healing and restorative abilities. It's processed through an organ known as the toal. We can heal with our hands, even through venoms and poisons. Mine was cut out of me repeatedly and ultimately seared with venom to prevent me from healing or using it."

  "Who did this to you?"

  "My father. Eldron. He believed that if he removed it, the extra energy and strength that the toal used could be channeled into making me a better warrior. It did not work that way."

  Of course it was Eldron. She bowed her head. "There must be something we can do."

  AaQar shook his head. "There are healing processes that one could go through, but they are excruciating. And for quite some time I would be without any abilities to shift at all. Once that passed, I would have to learn everything all over again. It would be like learning to walk and speak and with no guarantee that
I could." The sad smile that twitched at his lips broke her heart. "If we had known earlier, I could have addressed it while I was young. But we were children. I didn't learn the truth until much too late. So—I live with it. And it bleeds within me. Much slower usually. But there are times, especially when I am near to the end of my strength, when I can no longer hide it. Shifting around the supplies exacerbated it more than I expected. It isn't deadly though. Not on its own. Tonight resulted in a number of complications."

  "And it just won't heal fully?"

  "Some wounds never do. I've debated going through the process of healing it. But there was never a good time. The individual healing of the toal before relearning can take anywhere from a year to a century."

  "A century?" She stared at him, shocked.

  "More than that, I would have to heal at a rate more akin to an Awdawm or a Neyeb. Very, very slowly." He bowed his head, his long black hair forming a curtain on either side of his face. "It seemed practical despite the pain. Until—" He shook his head. "It was my choice to focus on my shifting. The thought of being without what healing I had as well was too much for me to risk. And I live with that choice. I thought I could be satisfied and make the most of my skills by learning to heal in other ways. That by knowing how to protect my family and cadre, I was doing better than healing."

  She pulled a couple of the towels from the opi packs and placed them beside him. "Ordinarily I'd say to put pressure on it, but for this—well, just in case."

  His expression grew more somber as he watched her. "From one healer to another, if you have any desire to continue healing, never forget to see to your wounds or allow someone to help you. There will always be people in need of healing. People we love suffer no matter what we do. Such is life on this side. There will always be a thousand things more important than caring for yourself. And eventually, little sister, you'll realize that you've gone too far to make it back. That's the point when you realize that you thought you were protecting them by not doing what you had to do to care for yourself, and then when you could have most aided them, you are spent and useless.

  "So see to your wounds while you can and don't let them become scars if you can help it. If I had trusted my brothers and allowed myself the time to heal, things would be very different now. But I didn't, and they aren't. And here we are. It'll be the same for you though perhaps in a different way. Don't ever think you're immune. We all need healing, rest, and peace." He cast a long, searching gaze across the forest. "Especially for these coming days."

  "We're going to have to take the path through Dry Deep, aren't we?"

  "I don't know how else we are to reach Darmoste, and my instincts say we need to get there soon."

  "Mine too. For what it's worth." She crossed over to Proteus to check his wounds. Most were minor. Little more than scrapes. Easy to clean. QueQoa had done well to get him through. She wasn't even sure how he'd managed it. The bavril leaned into her hand, presenting the underside of his throat for scratches.

  She gave him a good scratch and then set to tending his wounds. Her hands shook a little as dread twisted in her gut. "What should I expect in Dry Deep?"

  He drew his non-bloodied hand over his mouth as if searching for the words. Her discomfort grew with each moment he was silent. At last, he spoke. "For Neyeb, Dry Deep has an intense effect that is akin to unpleasant hallucinogenic substances. You're going to feel like you're losing your mind. You'll see things that aren't there, and you may have a hard time seeing what is. Voices too most likely. For some it is an incredibly spiritual experience. For others, a nightmare. Sometimes both. But if you remain long enough, Dry Deep will try to kill you. In about fourteen days, you won't be able to keep food down. After another five, water. We should be through before that happens."

  Her heart sank. "Will I get my mind back when we leave?" she whispered.

  "Yes. As long as we handle it properly. Especially your return to the world above. Healing will take time. You may bear scars in your mind from this. The nightmares are likely to stay."

  She laughed a little, her hand pressed to her temple. Sobs built up within her chest. It felt as if the forest watched her. "Unlike the dreams I have now? You mean I'll actually remember these?"

  "Some of your old memories may return as well. The Dry Deep is sometimes known as a place of undoing."

  "Will it free the Ki Valo Nakar?"

  He remained silent, the space and stillness between them intensifying the discomfort. She guessed his answer before he spoke. "I don't know. If we stayed long enough, perhaps. But we will go as fast as we can."

  The lack of reassurances frightened her. Something was waiting for her here. If not the Ki Valo Nakar, then what? And was that better or worse? Did it even matter? It had to be done. They should have just gone through it in the first place. "This whole experience—it won't be like it was for you and your brothers with the huanna. I remember you said that."

  He shook his head, his lips pressed in a thin line. "The impact of Dry Deep's atmosphere will be more like losing yourself as well as your concept of reality. Unless of course it turns out you handle it far better than your people usually do."

  Though she tried to force a smile, the sick feeling crept up her throat. "I doubt that's likely."

  "We'll get you through, little sister. I promise."

  Rubbing her arms, she looked around the bleak dark forest. From some angles, all the world had faded with the starkness of the grey packed earth and rigidity of the thin black trees. Tears burned along the backs of her eyes, but she wouldn't let them come. "I feel like I've been pulled here. Like regardless of what we tried to do, it didn't matter. We were always going to wind up here. I guess now we just make the best of it."

  * * *

  Frustration nearly blocked out the pain of his bones finishing their final healing. Naatos tied the tails of the four large fish together and dragged them along behind, his arms protesting the weight. His energy reserve was not slow in replenishing, so that was something at least. One good thing among a thousand bad.

  Here in the transitional phase, the dead space between Dry Deep and the rest of the waking world in the Forest Between, all was still. Too still. The trees blocked out most of the sound from above and beyond, sealing them into a claustrophobic capsule.

  The path through Dry Deep appeared to be their only option, but it wasn't. It couldn't be.

  He set his jaw.

  They had to find it quickly. The Grey Season loomed ahead. They'd need time to lay in supplies and secure their location wherever they wound up.

  Another aura storm was on the horizon. Too soon really. Far too soon.

  If it was a blue haze aura with a red sky, then—well, AaQar had fought to create any sort of timeline for when they could expect the disastrous Grey Season to arrive, and it remained uncertain.

  He glanced back over his shoulder at the black waters of the river. The real Dry Deep lay down the embankment. He'd performed so many rescues at varying points in Dry Deep throughout his life. He'd even guided Neyeb here who wanted to seek something out or find clarity in the toxic airs of this noxious place.

  Few did well.

  Most trips concluded within a few days, no more than a week except in grievous situations. And they had specific supplies. Medicinal herbs and teas among other things. More importantly they had experienced Neyeb in the journey who could see what their fellow Neyeb were going through, understand if there was pain or confusion, and most importantly guide them out of dangerous illusions.

  His family had none of that for her.

  As he neared the clearing, he heard AaQar and Amelia speaking in low voices.

  "We'll get you through, little sister. I promise," AaQar said. He spoke using that tone he did when a situation was near to hopeless but he didn't want whoever he was comforting to know.

  Not that it was likely to work well on Amelia. "I feel like I've been pulled here. Like regardless of what we tried to do, it didn't matter. We were always going t
o wind up here. I guess now we just make the best of it."

  "We are not going through Dry Deep." He emerged from the trees into the clearing and removed one of the fish. He tossed one of the corpses to Proteus. "We're going to take the night. Rest. And when daylight comes, we'll find an alternative."

  AaQar lifted his chin, his expression growing stern. "Would you rather be torn apart by dragons again, brother? Or whatever creature is moving off the mountains and is almost assuredly intent upon some form of destruction? They fled in terror. It triggered a rock slide. Those dragons are now homeless and roving, which makes them even more dangerous. And they hate us. The scorpions as well. That grassland and the surrounding forests are now kill zones for all of us. Or perhaps you would rather we all freeze to death trying to cross the Pelcaps?"

  "There has to be another way." Naatos ground the words out. "We'll figure something out."

  "You pride yourself on doing what is necessary, brother. This is what's necessary. And you know it. Spending time trying to find an alternative is a waste at this point, and we cannot afford the delay."

  He opened his mouth to speak, but Amelia had crossed over to him. She slid her arm around his, her touch startling him into nearly pulling away.

  "I know if you could find another way that you would," she said gently. "I know that you have done everything you could to keep me from going through this. And I love you for it. I love you all for that."

  His jaw tightened, a muscle twitching. "Veskaro—"

  She leaned her head on his arm as she watched him, eyes soft. "Can you get me through Dry Deep, veskare?"

  Some of the anger dissolved. Leaning down, he rested his forehead against hers. "Yes. But it won't be easy for you. You will suffer. I can't save you from that."

  Those words tasted more bitter than almost any he had spoken. He pulled her closer, needing to feel her and know that she wasn't going to fade.

  She had flung herself down into a canyon to lure up enormous scorpions to fight the dragons because he wasn't strong enough to defeat them alone. Not even with his brothers. How she had survived, he didn't know. Still couldn't wrap his mind around it entirely. A miracle perhaps. But miracles ran out. Would there be another waiting for them in Dry Deep?