by Turtle Me
Thanks, I responded as I dug through the rest of the pouch, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
Aside from a few more slabs of dried meat, the Shadow Claw also carried a jet-black knife carved from what looked like a beak.
‘These things sure do like their little keepsakes from murdering each other, don’t they?’ Regis pointed out.
I put the knife into the dimensional storage rune, thinking it could perhaps be used as a bargaining chip to receive some more Spear Beak eggs, and I handed the dried meat to Caera. “This, along with the fruits we recovered from the Four Fists’ village, should keep you from having to eat my arm to stay alive.”
“Another joke, Grey?” Caera asked, horrified.
I shrugged. “It can be now.”
The next items that came out from the satchel were three white rocks that had a smooth, almost silky texture to them.
“Look.” I held them up for Caera to see. “It’s the same stone as the dome and the arch.”
She held up four similarly sized and shaped stones. “This one had some too.”
Caera had her own small pile of items: the four stones, another flat lump of dried meat, a handful of some kind of small, purplish berries, and a thin rope that appeared to be woven of a tough yellow grass.
The last item from the pouch was a square piece of flat slate about three inches wide. At first I thought it was nothing more than that, but then I flipped it over to reveal a realistically etched image of two young Shadow Claws leaning against one another.
‘Whoa,’ Regis muttered.
It was a very well drawn picture, and I couldn’t help but think it had been scratched into the hard surface with an aetheric claw.
Caera leaned close to me, studying the drawing on the slate with awe. “This is… basically their version of a locket.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” I agreed.
“Strange,” she muttered, lightly tracing the carved drawing with a finger. “Why did they attack us?”
“They might just be as bloodthirsty as Old Broke Beak made them out to be,” I said.
“After what we saw at the Four Fists’ village, it doesn’t seem that simple.” Caera’s gaze turned to the bloody corpse of our guide. “What if it was because of Swiftsure?”
I looked at her questioningly, but kept silent, letting the thought tumble around in my mind. From what we had seen, the animosity between the tribes was unmistakable. The Spear Beaks hung Four Fists pelts on their walls for decoration, but the Four Fists leader that I had fought against had a decorative cowl made from Spear Beak feathers and talons, and the Shadow Claws carried knives made of Spear Beak beaks. Members from both tribes had attacked us not because they were more violent or animalistic than the Spear Beaks; it was because we were with a Spear Beak.
I shook my head. These were all just speculations at this point, but one thing remained true: The tattoos, carvings, and now this etched drawing, weren’t just signs of intelligence. They represented a flourishing culture.
“We should get going and scout ahead,” I said, getting up to my feet. My gaze fell to the corpses of the two Shadow Claws. “We’ll need to get rid of these bodies though.”
Caera nodded solemnly. The flicker of black flames in her palm soon engulfed the two Shadow Claws.
I had utilized very little aether during the battle, so instead of climbing up the rocky cliff, I chose a point high up on the mountainside and God Stepped directly to it, taking Caera with me so we could see far out over the high plateau on which we’d been traveling.
Caera let out a sharp breath at the sight around us. It was hard to believe the djinn had created this entire place. How absolute their mastery over aether must have been for them to leave behind something as strange and incredible as the Relictombs.
The sharply climbing mountains all around us seemed to go on into infinity. I suspected there was some trick to it and that Caera and I could walk forever toward those far off mountains and never reach them. They seemed little more than a surreal backdrop to the caldera and the ring of jagged peaks that surrounded it.
A gust of wind whipped at my straw-colored hair, and I realized that several gray clouds now interrupted the glacier-blue sky, and the paintbrush-markings—the yellow, green, and purple swirls—were fading as a subtle mist blew in.
“The weather is turning again,” I told Caera. With Regis’s aether levels still recovering, I was currently the only one that could survive the harsh storms in this zone.
Despite nearly succumbing to the storm first-hand, however, the noble Alacryan’s ruby eyes remained determined. “Then we just need to find that Shadow Claw village before the storm does.”
With a nod, I focused aether into my eyes to enhance my sight and began scouting out the surrounding landscape.
It took several minutes to explore the many folds and disguised valleys hidden around the base of the greater mountain range. When I found nothing atop the plateau, we crossed one rocky outcropping to the next until we’d moved around the side of the jagged peak and began searching again.
It didn’t take long to spot what we were looking for. Below me on the next ridge over, there were twenty or so woven huts built within the cliffs. They were carefully hidden between two sharp ribs of stone, and I couldn’t see any easy way in or out.
A little waterfall tumbled down the mountainside, pooling at one edge of the village. I watched as a Shadow Claw, barely the size of an ant from my perspective, bent down over the water to fill something, then disappeared back into a nearby hut.
“There.” I pointed my finger in the direction of the village so Caera could see as well.
She let out a sigh. “Well, in terms of strategic positioning, I’d say they definitely have the advantage.”
“For now, let’s head back down,” I replied quietly. “The possibility of there being other scouts or guards nearby is high.”
On our way back to the base of the rocky outcropping, we stopped at Swiftsure’s body. It wasn’t a pretty sight. The Spear Beak’s once graceful neck was slashed open, his white feathers stained red with his own blood. His thin, barbed tongue hung grotesquely from his beak.
Caera, who stood beside me, gathered her hands and closed her eyes, bowing her head in respect before shifting her gaze back to me. “Should we bury or burn the corpse?”
I shook my head. “Neither.”
Bending over Swiftsure’s corpse, I dipped my hand in the fatal injury on its neck and ran my bloodied fingers over my face and clothes before turning to Caera, who was gaping at me, confused and disturbed.
“I have an idea that may answer your question from earlier as well as get us into the Shadow Claw village,” I said as I walked slowly over toward the Alacryan noble with my bloodied fingers.
Caera huffed out a resigned sigh. “Have I expressed exactly how much I dislike some of your ideas?”
317
The Mountain
“Grey. I won’t pretend to know what sort of customs and rituals these tribes may have”—Caera touched Swiftsure’s blood, which was splattered over her clothes and part of her face—“but this seems like the kind of thing that would be universally disrespectful.”
“Stop fidgeting,” I replied, smearing some of the blood so it looked more natural.
“Ah, what a cute sight,” Regis chimed in, lying on the snowy ground nearby with an amused grin. “Nothing says love like painting each other in the blood of your enemies.”
“Nothing about this is ‘cute’, and it’s not for certain that Swiftsure was an enemy,” Caera huffed.
I rubbed snow between my blood-stained hands to clean some of it away. “Just ignore him when he says stupid crap like that. It’ll only encourage him.”
“Hey! I’m not some puppy that needs to be trained!” Regis yapped, his burning mane flickering.
“You’re right.” I turned to Regis and smiled patiently. “A puppy would at least have the decency to sulk when
it gets scolded.”
Caera let out a chuckle as Regis sputtered in frustration.
Noticing his mane quivering even more crazily in the growing winds, I looked up to see that the sky had turned almost entirely gray now.
“Hey! I’m still talking to you, princess! I’m the amalgamation of several asuran beings powerful enough to—”
“Let’s get moving,” I said, cutting him off. “I don’t think we have long until this turns into a real storm.” Regis glared at me before leaping back into my body.
I held my hand out for Caera. “We’ll teleport just past the mountain ridge where we spotted the Shadow Claw village. I don’t want to risk using aether anywhere closer.”
She took my hand, but was shaking her head disbelievingly. “The fact that I can so casually accept the fact that we’ll be teleporting makes me feel like I’ve lost something…”
Pulling her close, I ignited God Step, following the aetheric path that I had mentally charted on our first run. In the span of several seconds, we were standing on the edge of the sharp lip of stone that surrounded the Shadow Claw’s hidden sanctuary.
From there, we travelled on foot. It wasn’t a difficult climb, but it did take time, and we were buffeted by icy winds and blinded by driving snow before we arrived in a shallow alcove looking down on the woven huts now clearly visible even through the growing storm. The last part of the plan required that not only the two of us, but Regis be visible as well.
“Like we planned,” I whispered.
“Not that I mind posing powerfully and intimidatingly, but I don’t see how my presence will help us,” Regis said softly.
Caera nodded. “I’m curious as well.”
“I just figured wolves and leopards are… close enough.” I shrugged, keeping an eye on the village. “Who knows. Maybe you’ll make some friends.”
“Hard to argue with that logic,” Regis said sarcastically.
Imbuing aether into my eyes to supplement my naturally enhanced vision, I studied the details and activity happening within the village. The woven huts the Shadow Claws lived in were shaped vaguely like beehives and made of overlapping layers of a straw-colored woven grass. Each structure was fitted with a simple door woven into a frame made of treated sticks.
Though the wind still howled, the village was protected from the worst of it. In fact, the entire hollow in which it was built was clear of snow. A handful of small, twisted trees with broad, dark leaves decorated the packed earth paths between the houses, and dense, deep green grass grew everywhere else.
In a circular patch of sandy earth, four Shadow Claws appeared to be… training. When we had first arrived, the two pairs had been attacking one another, though without their claws. As we watched, they halted their sparring, bowed to one another, and began a series of identical movements that were clearly rehearsed.
Their combat style was fascinating to watch. They emphasized quick strikes to vital areas, and were always moving. Every slash or swipe of a paw took them at least three steps from their starting position, and each attack was intertwined with a defensive maneuver.
Though they didn’t actively use their aether abilities while training, I could see how sudden leaps or strafing hops were meant to simulate their ability to teleport. As I watched them, I wished that I could speak to them and learn about their manipulation of aether.
If this goes well, maybe I’ll get the chance, I thought, running through what I’d planned to say and do one last time.
“Ready?” I asked the others, keeping my voice low. They both nodded.
Taking Swiftsure’s corpse out of my dimension rune, I gripped it by its ruined neck and leapt from the alcove down into the village, landing between the circular training area and the outer wall. Caera and Regis jumped down just behind me.
The four closest Shadow Claws howled in alarm, scrambling away from us and falling into low crouches. Aether flared around them as they conjured their claws.
More came running from around the village, bursting out of doors or simply appearing in front of us using their aetheric teleportation, each one snarling, claws out and ready to fight.
I raised the stiff corpse above my head, then went down on one knee and bowed forward, letting Swiftsure’s body roll out of my hands into the dense grass.
Next to me, I knew Caera and Regis were copying my bow, each of us exposing the backs of our necks to the crowd of Shadow Claws. I listened carefully to the whisper-quiet sound of a single Shadow Claw cautiously approaching.
I peeked through my curtain of pale wheat hair and watched as the cat-like creature nudged the corpse, causing the neck to roll and revealing the torn throat, which Regis had chewed open to hide the razor-thin slashes.
It said something in a mewling, pitchy voice and I risked lifting my head a fraction of an inch to better see it. The Shadow Claw was clearly old, its thick white fur having lost its lustre, the black spots fading to gray. Its head snapped around when I moved and it stepped back into a defensive posture.
Very slowly and calmly, my eyes on the ground, I said, “Please, we mean you no harm. We come seeking your aid. Do any of your people speak our language?”
Another Shadow Claw, this one taller than the rest, stepped out of the crowd, which had formed a half-circle around us, and gestured toward me. It began to speak in their hissing, mewling language, its voice the low growl of an angry leopard.
‘This doesn’t seem to be going well,’ Regis said, projecting his thoughts into my mind.
Be patient. They didn’t immediately attack, which is exactly what we hoped for.
A third Shadow Claw, so old and stooped that it walked with the aid of a stick, stepped forward and responded to the tall one, who shot me a glare, bowed, and fell back.
The village went silent except for the noise of the wind battering at the stone walls. I resisted the urge to clad myself in aether as I waited for something to happen. Even if they didn’t attack us, I didn’t know what their capability for communication was, or if they would give us their piece of the portal frame once we had made them understand our purpose.
If they did attack us, I was confident I could fight them off, even given our poor strategic position, but I really hoped it didn’t come to that. The longer they waited, though, the less likely a fight seemed.
Finally the Shadow Claw who had come forward to inspect Swiftsure’s remains said something, and two others ran up to collect the body, carrying it out of sight. Then the cat-like creature sat in front of me, its legs crossed. With one paw, it gestured for me to sit up.
Shifting around, I sat in the grass, crossing my own legs and resting my hands on my knees, palms up. Behind me, I heard Caera and Regis shuffling around as well.
The Shadow Claw’s eyes shone like amethysts, although they didn’t seem to be looking at me directly. Rather, it looked around me, its gaze travelling the edges of my physical form as if she could see the heat radiating from my body.
Or my aether, I realized.
Slowly, very slowly, one broad paw reached out toward my upturned palm. There was no malevolence in the motion, so I stayed still, watching, deeply curious about what this creature might do.
The soft pad of the Shadow Claw’s paw touched my hand, and for a moment nothing happened. Then everything changed.
The quiet mountain village of woven huts was gone, as were the stunted little fruit trees and the crowd of worried-looking cat people. Even the constant rushing of the wind had vanished.
I felt as though I were drifting in space, though I wasn’t floating, exactly. I wasn’t really anything at all. Before fear could set in, however, color and light seeped out of the empty nothing, resolving into moving images, like I had closed my eyes and was picturing a favorite memory.
Except it wasn’t my memory. I watched as two Shadow Claw kittens chased each other through the village. One, the chaser, was howling angrily. The other had taken something. As they sprinted toward the
pool, I was suddenly in front of them, forcing both kittens to slide to a halt.
Calmly, I took the object—a little branch with a handful of purple berries on it—plucked the berries one by one from the branch, and then gave each child an equal number. “Be kind to one another and share,” I said simply, though my words came out in the language of the Shadow Claws.
Then the vision melted away and was replaced with another. This time, I was looking down at myself, bowing, Swiftsure’s body lying awkwardly before me. I relived the moments after our arrival in the village again, though this time it was from the perspective of this Shadow Claw.
Though I still didn’t hear the words as words, I understood their meaning when the tall Shadow Claw—Left Tooth—spoke, addressing me.
“Three Steps, it is clear this must be some trap of the fiendish Spear Beaks. We should kill these creatures quickly before we fall under their power.”
The other Shadow Claw—Sleeps-in-Snow—stepped from the crowd and said, “Take care, Left Tooth, lest your fear cause you to grow feathers and a beak. Let us see their minds and know their purpose.”
Then the vision faded and everything went dark and blank again. I felt a sense of… expectation.
I thought I understood what the creature wanted. She couldn’t speak my language, but by sharing our memories we could communicate. I could explain what we’d come for.
It was delicate. I had to bring forward the right memory without thinking about anything that could upset our hosts, but I had no way of knowing if the topic itself—our pursuit of the portal pieces—would anger them.
First, I shared the memory of Caera and I standing before the broken archway and my attempt to repair it with aether. Next, I replayed the battle with the Ghost Bear, including my conversation with Caera about not wanting to fight it. Deciding to take a risk, I finally focused on the memory of the ancient Four Fists gesturing for me to take the clan’s portal piece.
This communication-by-memory was a slow process, aided only by the fact that I had so much experience with mental communication through Sylvie. Unbidden, the memory of our last moments together played in the darkness. I watched in sudden horror as her body became ethereal and broke apart into motes of gold and lavender.