by C B Williams
Wren sucked in her breath, speechless.
A great rumbling came from the sniffer’s throat while Eloch scratched her ears and rubbed her sides. Her tail wrapped sinuously around Eloch.
“When she first arrived, Little Sister was exactly as you described, Wren,” Eloch told her over the escalating rumbles.
Wren gasped as the sniffer plopped on her side and rolled onto her back, offering her belly to be rubbed.
Eloch stroked her belly and rubbed her ribs as he continued to talk. “She tried to kill me several times. She was chained to the wall over there and she would lunge at me. But in time, we came to an understanding which has since grown into a friendship.”
“How much time?” Wren said, pulling in her breath as she watched the sniffer’s paws grasp Eloch’s head.
His answer was muffled. “You’ve been here three weeks, yes?”
“You tamed her in three weeks?”
“Little Sister, that’s enough” Eloch laughed as the sniffer bathed his face with her tongue. He moved to rise and she backed away, allowing him the room. Mopping his face, he walked over to Wren where she leaned against the wall.
The sniffer sat back with half-closed eyes, then she stood and followed Eloch, slipping her head under his hand so he would fondle her ears.
“Little Sister is not tame, Wren,” Eloch said. “We are companions. Friends. Like you and I,” he explained as he fondled the sniffer’s ears. “Here, you pat her. She’s very soft.”
Wren shook her head, her eyes wide. “I can’t.”
“She won’t hurt you, Wren, I promise.”
Wren looked at the sniffer who was making her rumbling sound again. “No, I’m sorry, but I just can’t. Not right now. I’m feeling too—” She held up her leg.
Eloch nodded and sighed. “I understand. Maybe later.”
“Maybe. Now can we please get out of here?”
“Of course.” He gave Little Sister a final stroke and then let himself out of her enclosure. “Soon,” he told the beast. “It will be soon.”
“What will be soon?” Wren asked as Eloch carried her away from the enclosure.
She glanced back and saw the sniffer watching her. Her ears were up, her head cocked to one side. She didn’t appear threatening, but Wren knew what they could do. She glanced down at her leg.
“I’m planning to let Little Sister out so she can hunt.” He felt Wren stiffen. “She was starving when she arrived, Wren, and the meal bars won’t last. We need the meal bars for ourselves. Little Sister needs to hunt.”
“Hunt what? Only thing out there are rodents and people, a few birds maybe. You want her killing more people Eloch? She might be your friend, but she’s nobody else’s, I can promise you that.”
“She wouldn’t hurt you, Wren.”
They’d reached the encampment, and he set her down on a chair he had found and mended. She reached for her leggings she’d draped over it and put them on, pulled the drawstring tight against her belly. Eloch had cut the length to fit her, but they hung loose. Two of her could have fit in one leg with room for a third.
“I’m not so sure.”
“If you don’t threaten her, she won’t hurt you.”
Wren shrugged. “I will never turn my back on the creature, that I can promise you.” She hesitated. “And I will try not to be a threat. I know our food supply is important, and what you suggest makes sense.” And maybe it will run away and that’s the last I will ever see of it.
Eloch smiled, which always made Wren uneasy. His smile made her belly quiver with warmth. She didn’t want to feel that way. Not with anyone. Ever.
He stopped smiling. “What, Wren?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. When are you planning to let the sniffer out?”
“As soon as you’re comfortable with the idea.”
“I’m never going to be comfortable with the idea, Eloch. But if you promise you will protect me if it attacks, then I’m okay with it now.”
“She won’t attack. But if she does, I will protect you with my life. I promise.”
She sat back and folded her arms. “Okay, then. Why wait?”
With a nod, Eloch reached for his staff and handed it to her. “Why don’t you hold onto this? And I’ll set Little Sister free.”
“I’d rather have a knife,” Wren muttered as she accepted his staff. She balanced it on her knees.
“I’ll be right back,” Eloch promised her.
Eloch quickened his pace as he approached Little Sister’s enclosure. His heart leapt. How could Spur not provide for one of its creatures in need? Little Sister had need, and he hoped her need would help Spur wake up and provide for her.
Sensing Eloch’s excitement, Little Sister paced back and forth at the enclosure’s gate, whimpering.
Eloch laughed when he opened the gate and she shot out and raced in circles. She stopped short and looked back at him over her shoulder, her sinuous tail waving like a flag. With a burst of speed she changed directions and hurled herself at him. Knocking him off his feet she landed on top of him to lick his face and nibble on his ears.
Eloch laughed and pushed her off. “Be gone with you, Little Sister,” he said as he scrambled to his feet. “Hunt well, my friend.”
She woofed and darted off.
Wren watched the sniffer run by the encampment’s opening. “So beautiful,” she whispered.
As if sensing her, the sniffer paused and turned her magnificent head toward Wren.
Wren sucked in her breath and gripped the staff.
The sniffer’s nostrils flared and then she dipped her head and remained still, as if waiting for a response.
This is crazy. Wren raised her hand in a salute and wondered why she did. Can you catch crazy from another person?
The sniffer dipped her head again and with a little yip turned and ran south.
“Why did you do it? Tame the sniffer?”
They sat across from each other at a table Eloch had dug from the Rubble. One leg was bent, and it wobbled if there was too much weight on it.
Wren nibbled on her meal bar while she waited for Eloch to answer.
He chewed carefully, studying her. “I didn’t tame her.”
“Well, made friends, then.” She shook her hair from her eyes.
“Life is precious, Wren,” he told her. “A life should never be taken if there is another way.”
“It could have killed you.”
“No.” He flashed his grin. “I’m smarter. I knew what she needed.”
Wren’s stomach fluttered at the smile. “Needed?”
“She’s a pack animal. She needs to belong. And she wanted a leader. I filled that place for her. Which is why she won’t hurt you. I won’t let her.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Eloch pushed his hair from his face and sighed. “I just know, Wren.”
“But how?”
She watched him smooth the meal bar’s wrapper with his strong, gentle hands. Long fingers. He seemed fascinated with its design.
“You wouldn’t understand,” he said finally.
His eyes flicked up at her.
She felt the pull of their intensity. So very green.
“I know you think me mad, Wren. You are entitled to your opinion, of course. But because it’s your belief, I don’t feel free to share my deepest thoughts with you.”
Wren felt her face warm and she lowered her eyes. “I don’t think you’re totally crazy,” she said.
He laughed. “You would if I told you everything I know, everything I plan to do here, on Spur, before I go home.”
“Try me.”
“Another time, perhaps,” he said gently. “For now, why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why don’t I tell you something about me, and then you tell me something about you? Tit for tat.”
“Tit for tat. What does that mean?”
Wren shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. I think it m
eans I’ll tell you something about me and then you’ll tell me something about you, and we’ll be on equal footing.”
“Okaaay,” he said slowly.
“And it has to be the truth.”
“Of course, but we both have the option to retain our privacy. Meaning, if I don’t want to discuss something, I don’t have to.”
“Deal.” She spat on her hand and held it out to him.
She burst out laughing at Eloch’s expression. “Spit on your hand, Eloch and shake mine. It seals the deal.”
Reluctantly, he followed her example.
“Good. I go first,” she told him.
“You already asked me something.”
“Doesn’t count. We weren’t playing the game then.”
Eloch sighed. “Very well. Proceed.”
“What is Entean like?”
“Entean is beautiful.” He began.
Fascinated, Wren watched his whole demeanor soften. How can I be jealous of a planet?
“She is smaller than Spur,” he continued. “It can take me two years to circumnavigate her. But if she wants me to arrive somewhere sooner, she will change her currents to get me there.”
“Currents?”
“Water. We travel by canoe and small ships. There are no oceans, just lakes and waterways and rivers. The land is green and lush. The temperature varies, colder at her poles and much warmer at her equator. There are many creatures, and many people living in small communities.”
“And everyone gets along and they live happily-ever-after.”
Eloch chuckled. “If I said yes, I’d be lying. That’s why Entean needs a Champion.”
“You.”
“Me.”
“But you’re here. What’s happening there?”
“It’s my turn.”
Her brow furrowed. “What?”
“My turn to ask you a question.”
“Oh, sorry. Ask away.”
“Why were the sniffers tracking you?”
Silence greeted Eloch’s question.
“Wren?”
“Yes, I know.” Briefly, she put her head in her hands, elbows on the table. “Why don’t you put something under that leg?” She glared when it wobbled, sloshing her mug of tea.
“Excellent idea, Wren.” Eloch glanced around and picked up a board from the stack near the fire ring. He broke it in two with his foot and slid the half he held under the table. “Better?”
Wren nodded. “Until I trip over it.”
Eloch cocked his head at her, reminding her of the sniffer. “Perhaps you need a rest,” he suggested.
“It had been such a good day,” she began, ignoring his suggestion. “We had moved all the old and weak Kin into Tunnel Two. They were well prepared for a nice, long hide. More than prepared. Had three weeks’ food supply. When Mouse, Flick, and I left them, they were laughing and joking while they settled in for the night, the old ones taking care of the very young and the sick. We had made these platforms with rope bridges so they’d be off the ground. Tunnel Two is so damp, you see. The Martials burnt the bridges. Trapped my Kin on the platforms, those who didn’t fall.”
Eloch watched her hands fidget with her meal bar wrapper. Her head was bowed. He couldn’t see her face.
“I must have been asleep for about two hours when the screams woke me. And from then on, it just got worse,” she looked up at him.
“They Culled my Kin. I was supposed to keep them safe. When we went to sleep that night, there were more than five hundred of us. Not all in Tunnel Two, of course, but home in bed. Safe. The ones in Tunnel Two were the ones the Martials wouldn’t want, you see. The rest would be okay. We knew they’d make it through the Cull.
“At Flick’s last count, just before we parted ways, there were around forty-five of us left. Over four hundred either slaughtered or recruited into other Kin that night. I don’t know how many survived.
“Don’t touch me!” Her arm shot up, blocking his hand. “I don’t like it.”
She swiped at the tears, rested her face in her hands. “And then they sent in the sniffers to get the rest.” Her voice sounded muffled. “I wasn’t going to let that happen. We had an escape plan in place, only it didn’t take into account a sniffer pack. I distracted the sniffers. Took to the tunnels, keeping them fairly close behind me so my remaining Kin could escape.” She took a deep breath and finished on the exhale. “I just hope it worked.”
“Wren, I—“
“No, there’s nothing you can say to make it better. That’s just life in Sub-City. I never want to see Sub-City again. For as long as I live. I tried to make it better down there, and you just can’t. You just can’t. I’m such an idiot.” She slammed her hands down. “I’m tired of this game. I want to lie down. Can you help me with this blasted Sausage?”
“Wren—“
“Just help me, Eloch.”
Without another word, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroll. He knelt down so she could slide into it. He steadied her when she flinched.
Even though it was still warm outside, she yanked the blanket over her head and turned toward the wall, her back to him.
He watched her curl into an even tinier ball, knowing she was hurting her leg. With a quiet sigh, he returned to the table and gathered the shredded wrapper to use as kindling for that night’s fire.
It’s going to be like befriending Little Sister all over again, he thought as he went out into Rubble to find a new table leg.
She wasn’t asleep. She heard him go out. She heard him come back in, move around a while, and then go out again.
The Sausage was throbbing. Was it ever going to heal? Which was a silly question. In time it would heal. Too much time.
And meanwhile, what of her Kin? By now they thought she was dead. Hopefully, it wouldn’t stop them from proceeding with her plan, settling in the square with the fountain. Never to live in Sub-City again. Never to be under the Cull.
With Flick‘s leadership, Mouse’s surveillance skills, and Spider’s knowledge, she thought they’d be okay. They could stay hidden for years, learning to mingle with the UpperUppers. Then finally going off-planet to a colony, far away from Spur, which meant far away from Sub-City.
Gods and goddesses, she missed them. Missed Flick’s heartbeat and warm, sleeping presence. Missed Mouse’s sudden smiles. Missed sparring with her. Missed joking with them all, eating with them.
“Stop it,” she said out loud, her voice sounding ragged and raw.
She rolled over and sat up, pushing the blankets off. “You and I are going to get back to them,” she told The Sausage. “And we’re starting now.”
With a grunt, she flung her legs over the side of the pallet and stood.
Oh the pain!
A million stabbing needles.
Her vision wobbled, but she refused to sit. Refused to faint. She waited until she could withstand the needles stabbing up and down her leg. She took a deep breath and, arms stretched out, took a step.
The Sausage collapsed beneath her.
She passed out.
When she opened her eyes she was being held by strong arms, listening to a steady heartbeat.
“Easy, there,” Eloch murmured softly. “Let me get you to a chair.”
She shook her head. “No. Help me get up.”
“Wren—“
“Help me get up. I’m done with lying around in bed. Having to wait for you to take me to the bathroom. Take me anywhere.”
“It’s too soon.”
“No, it’s not soon enough. Help me, Eloch. It’s not easy for me to ask for help. So just do this, okay?”
After a moment he nodded and helped her to her feet. She stood, balancing on her good leg, gripping his arm with one hand. She took a couple of deep breaths.
“Okay, don’t move your arm. Let me set the pace.”
He held strong, feeling her fingers dig into him.
“Okay,” she said again. Using his arm as a crutch, she took a step.
They both hissed out a breath.
She glanced at him and flashed a smile, her face white. “Just be glad you don’t have the empath knack. This does not feel good,” she told him through gritted teeth.
But he did. One of Entean’s parting gifts. The longer he and the plant were merged, the more he came to understand Entean’s way of knowing. Wren’s pain was a white, hot heat that he would have given anything to soothe away from her.
All he could do was will it away from himself and remain strong for her.
She amazed him, how she managed to walk to the table and sit in the chair, step after halting step. With a groan, she released him, to cradle her head in her arms on the tabletop.
The only sound was her panting.
“Wow,” she finally told him. “That was extremely unpleasant.” She looked up at him. “But now I know what to expect. I promise you, by the end of the week, I will take myself to the bathroom when I need to go.”
He studied her, took in her ashen, sweaty face, her set jaw, her scowl.
“I’ll go find you a walking stick,” he told her and left without a backward glance.
She snorted and laid her head back on her arms. “Stop whining,” she told The Sausage. “I don’t feel sorry for you.”
It was dark and the world smelled of dust and age. She paused and lifted her muzzle to the slight breeze, yearning for some other scent. Still, only dust and age. Yet, something called her, something urgent within her breast.
She ran, feeling her muscles flex and release. She’d never been able to run like this before. Alone, without the scent of her prey filling her nostrils. Alone, without her brothers and sisters. She whimpered a little as she ran.
Come it called her.
She ran.
Toward dawn, she found a new smell. Something unknown.
She stopped, her sides heaving as she brought the new smell into her lungs. It smelled alive and warm. It smelled close.
She put her muzzle to the ground and sniffed, picking up the scent traces.
Had she been with her pack, she would have begun baying. But she was alone, so she hunted quietly, moving forward softly on padded paws following the scent’s trail.