by Sarah Cathey
The thought was the first real impact that struck Shakja and she dropped her head to the scales on her chest. She allowed her wings to unfurl and fall to the side and her tail lay limp as if weighed down by stones.
“What have I done?” she wailed, her hearts sinking in the pain of being drowned. “Oh, what have I done?”
“Quiet!” a voice railed at her from only a short distance away. “Do you think you are the only one who’s having a bad day?”
Shakja couldn’t tell if the Drjeen was a male or female, or even the age. Her attempt to throw out vibrations came back without a response.
“Your senses will not affect me,” the voice said, curiously. Shakja had never met a Drjeen who had the ability to thwart her vibration-sense, she hadn’t even known it was possible.
Shakja leaned into the direction she thought the voice had come and whispered, “Who are you?” Her voice was low, raspy even, yet she dared not get the attention of any passing guards.
“That is of no concern to you.”
“Can you tell me how long you’ve been here?”
The pause was long and Shakja wondered if the Drjeen was done talking to her. Drops of some liquid she hoped was water spattered against a stone nearest her. A fresh wave of screams from some other room filled the dungeon and Shakja once again dropped her chin to her chest.
“I am not here,” the voice responded back. “Not in the way you would assume I am here.”
“Well, how long have you been imprisoned then?”
“I am not imprisoned. You are imprisoned and I only came to see who you were.”
Shakja blew off the words as if they were coming from a crazy person. Who would willingly sit in a dungeon just to see anyone? None of it made sense. “Then what did you do to get here?”
“I did nothing. What did you do?”
“I saved someone.”
The voice seemed to dwell on the response with a generous grunt and curious moan as if contemplating the reality of what was said.
“I have heard of you; from elders. They talk as if you exert some power, but to me, you appear to only be of low caste. So, what power could you possibly wield?”
“I’m sure you are mistaken. I have no power.”
“No, no, that is not true either. If you had no power, you would not be in this cell.”
“You are here,” Shakja stammered, “What power do you have?”
“Believe me, it is not as much as you think.”
“Well, if what you say is true then I suspect it is; being imprisoned here, wherever here is.”
“I told you,” the voice contradicted, “I am not imprisoned, you are.”
“That makes no sense. Why do you keep saying that? You are in the cell with me, aren’t you?”
Suddenly the voice began to whimper, and that whimper turned into a laugh, raspy, sharp and truly finding something funny about the predicament. “Oh, you are a funny one, but I forget, you cannot see me. I am not in your cell. I am under your cell, only a half-length from your wing.”
Shakja sat up as if a rodent just ran over her feet. “You are under my cell?”
“Yes, I am, where else would I be?”
“Wait, so you can see me?”
“That is a silly question. Of course, I can see you. You are practically laying on top of me.”
“Can you help me get out of here?”
“Yes, of course… probably. But I don’t know where you would intend on going. If the guards catch you then you will be tortured and then killed. If they catch me, then my parents would put me to bed without food. It all seems too risky for me.”
“Bed without food? Are you joking?”
“No, it is a serious—.”
“Oh, never mind all that. I need you to get me out. I will figure the rest later. I need to get to my friends.”
There was only silence.
“Are you there?” Shakja called out. But there was nothing. It seemed as if an entire turn occurred before there was finally some noise. Again, iron against iron was clanging from beyond her cell. A massive door opened and slammed shut. Shakja could hear the sound of guards approaching.
“Where are you?” She hissed, and again there was no response. Once at her door the guards slid the key into the lock. There was a loud bang in the corridor.
“What was that?” one of the guards cried out and Shakja could hear them deliberately remove their spears.
“Let’s go see,” the other said.
As soon as the guards were gone, Shakja could hear another noise of iron, although much quieter and near her begin to rattle. “You could offer me a hand, or at least a good kick.”
“Is that you? I thought you had run.”
“Now, why would I do that. I had to sneak some food. Now hurry, the guards will only be gone a moment. Shakja jumped up and found the grates near her, partially obstructed by long grasses. She stomped on the grate which came loose. “Now, come on. We haven’t much time.”
Shakja quickly descended the hole in the cell floor, unclear who she was following, why the Drjeen was saving her and without a clear idea if she should be doing this at all.”
“Follow me,” the Drjeen grabbed Shakja’s talon and pulled her forward.
“I can’t see.”
“I can, just listen to my footsteps, hold my talon and follow.”
The two of them raced through a maze of corridors that had she wanted to, Shakja could never decipher to find her way back to the cell. Rather she would die in the corridors, cold, wet, starved and alone.
“My parents are going to be so mad,” said the voice and Shakja couldn’t help but notice a sudden alleviation of emotion as if the Drjeen was happy to have taken a prisoner from the cell. As they got deeper and began to descend further the sound of alarm finally hit and throughout the prison the violent and methodical pounding of drums beat one after the next alerting all guards that there was an escaped prisoner. Like that, Shakja had become a fugitive.
The strange voice only chuckled, “I love that sound.”
Shook was too far away to from Aput or the Rawkta to defend Aput as well as he should have been able to.
“Curse me! How could I have let this happen!” Shook threw out his wings to their fullest grabbing as much air behind them as he could and like a perfectly thrown spear, he threw himself toward Aput. Despite this, his rational mind continued to take over as a reminder that he would never make it to the young scientist in time.
Shook had lost sight of the Rawkta as it appeared Aput had, but as he flew forward, he found the dark feathered shape dive down and duck just below a tree canopy before coming up fast and from underneath Aput. There was little time to waste and as Shook came within sixty lengths he knew there was only one thing to do and stole a tactic from the formidable Rawkta.
His tensed the muscles across his back spine which pulled his massive battle-worn wings upward stopping him almost immediately. He then grabbed a spear. He wished he had the proximity to throw his spear while in a charge, but it was too risky, he’d lose all control. No, he realized, this was it. The spear was in his talon and as his wings flapped heavy and consciously under control he tried to maintain balance in the air. Hitting one’s target from such a distance while maintaining level height was near impossible, but as the Rawkta came up from underneath Aput, Shook knew he had no other choice.
He drew back with his dominant talon and with all the strength in his chest and upper body he let the spear loose and watched it sail straight piercing the atmosphere. Shook’s only concerns now were that the spear would either strike too late or in the malady of Aput’s attempt to retreat he would inadvertently put himself in the line of fire of the spear.
As soon as the spear left his talon Shook once again took hard flight in the direction of Aput. The Rawkta was almost upon the scientist when the spear hit the creature’s muscled flank. While it wasn’t a kill shot Shook was delighted to see that the Rawkta had dropped its open jaws and head bumped Aput
away which was better than Shook could have hoped. The Rawkta immediately turned his attention on the Daken-rider and Shook lowered his head, digging his horns into the open chest of the creature. Aput stuttered midair to regain the air he’d lost when the Rawkta struck him, and despite being able to fly and being seemingly unharmed he knew he could do nothing to help Shook.
The Rawkta, although injured with a spear still wedged deep into its body and two bloody marks from Shook’s horned attack continued to fight fiercely. With long and ferocious swings, the beast struck Shook across the body sending him toward the canopy but Shook quickly regained his flight and once again attacked horns-forward. He glanced off the Rawkta’s head, doing little damage, but regained his position again and instead of charging again with his horns he let out a rancorous growl opening his mouth wide and clamped down hard with his battle-sharpened teeth in one of the only unprotected parts of the Rawkta’s body—its neck.
From the moment of impact, the Rawkta began to violently flail and screech as blood spewed in all directions covering Shook and splattering across Aput. The beast was in its death throes making it even more terrifying than Aput could have imagined. Its claws dug into Shook’s wings and then tore through his leathery scales along his back, cutting open one of the spikes in his spine. Shook never let go, keeping his mouth clamped to the Rawkta and allowing the beast to frantically lose all of its blood as it continued to swing and snarl in as many directions as possible. The beast then ripped into Shook’s chest-scales ripping one off.
Aput couldn’t tell whose blood was who’s as the two savage warriors fought with only one end to this mayhem. One of them must die for this to be over.
Shook lost his quiver of spears during the brawl and Aput, unable to help in battle dove down and retrieved the spears and quiver in mid-flight. The Rawkta struck again, this time slicing Shook across his eyes and then ripping a deep line along Shook’s tail.
Despite Shook having the advantage, Aput realized that if this creature wasn’t put down soon, Shook may also die trying to wait out the Rawkta’s miserably slow death. Aput quickly strapped the quiver to his waist and pulled a spear. Had he given himself time to think about it, rational thought would be to do nothing but wait. Donning or brandishing a Daken-rider’s weapons was forbidden and in Aput’s caste could mean an immediate sentence of death. But what was he to do? He flew in as close as he dared and flung the heavy spear which flew errant, missing the target by several lengths. He grabbed another, knowing the spear far outweighed his strength. He had only one option.
Brandishing the spear, he took up broad-winged flight propelling himself forward. He held the spear in both talons out in front of him. He drew in his wings as he dove down toward the Rawkta and the injured Shook. The impact was explosive as Aput sent the spear deep into the Rawkta severing multiple internal organs and killing the beast upon impact. When the Rawkta no longer flailed Shook let go of its neck and in shock saw Aput’s bloody body in flight letting the spear fall with the Rawkta on the other end limply hitting the canopy below.
Shook didn’t know how to process the scientist donning his weapons, nor the blood or his own exhaustion. His wings struggled to flap, and the last thing Shook remembered was a smile encroaching on his face as he stared at the seemingly frightened scientist who had just dispatched a Rawkta.
Then his wings stopped flapping, his eyes went dark and Shook fell toward the canopy.
Chapter 8
“What have you…” Shook’s wounds were too deep, and he could barely let the words escape his mouth.
“Please, hold on. Don’t move. I have you…”
Shook wound his damaged wing around him to view the injuries, but as he did so, his body rolled over completely, and the large warrior fell to the hard ground.
“I have you strapped up.” Aput took a deep and failed breath. “Sorry, these little… I don’t know what they are, but these lizard, rodent things kept trying to get at your bloody wounds. The best I could do was strap you higher than they could reach.”
Shook looked curiously as Aput, “You lifted me?”
Aput tried to hide his smile, turned and pulled a long branch from a fire he had going. Darkness had settled in and aside from the occasional chirping of insects, there was only the howl of the wind through the trees. “I wouldn’t say that I lifted you, but in a sense, I guess I did.”
“Uh!” Shook sat up from the ground feeling the pain in his joints and muscles tighten. He looked around himself at the mess of branches, stones, and grasses fashioned into rope. “What is this?”
“Well, I may be a celestial scientist, but my parents were both engineers. They designed the royal palace!” He said with pride. “I learned much during my childhood.”
“I say you did.” Shook grabbed a log of wood on his tail and tossed it aside to look at the deep gouge nearly half as long as his tail. “So, you fashioned a hoist?” although he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at.
“Yes, although apparently, it was not as strong as I’d hoped.”
“Last I remember, you…”
Aput took the long branch stuck through the center of the cooked meat and walked over to Shook. He helped the injured Daken-rider sit upright on a nearby boulder and handed him the branch.
“And you killed our dinner?”
Aput again couldn’t hold his smile back as well as he liked. After fashioning the hoist and raising Shook above the ground he took a moment to re-equip himself with Shook’s weapons, strutting himself around the camp pretending to act as bold as he felt. However, stumbling on the ground and nearly killing himself on a loose spearhead he realized his folly stretched much farther than just a weak scientist and he quickly replaced the weapons and tried to hide his guilt.
“You could say I did, but maybe not in a hunt.”
Shook looked at the cooked meat on his stick and then at the cut carcass on the heated stone. It took him a moment, but as he put the pieces together, he realized, “Were camped where the Rawkta fell through the canopy. You killed and then cooked the Rawkta.”
Aput dropped his head expecting a thrashing. Warriors were always particular with how to dispose of a valiant foe. Shook would likely have wanted to send the beast’s carcass away as a warrior rather than fodder. Instead, as Aput looked away in shame the sounds around the two were met with deep guttural laughter.
“Aput, you surprise me! Are you sure you are a scientist? Because you think like a warrior.”
“But I thought…”
“You thought I would want to send this beast away in glory and us starve for it? You have an interesting impression of warrior stupidity. I commend your efforts though. So, you either dragged my limp body or the Rawkta’s corpse. Either way is a feat for someone as small as you.”
“Well, actually, you landed on top of the Rawkta.”
The guttural laughter was back ten-fold as Shook had to stop himself before ripping his injuries even further. “I landed on the Rawkta? That is the best I’ve heard yet. When we are done with this Aput, you must join me in battle again. I have never laughed so hard after being injured so deep.”
Aput could only smile as he took a bite of the thick Rawkta flesh.
As night descended a thick shade of blackness was only broken by the flames of the remaining embers under the baking stone. The wind died down and the insects were gone, likely taken by flying rodents.
“I’m afraid you must take most of the watch tonight. I am in too bad shape to keep myself alert.” Shook said. “I would like to be the hero of this battle, but there is a reality.”
Aput nodded. “I guessed as much.”
“You can wake me early in the third moon. I should be rested by then and we can move again by morning.”
“I don’t see how you could possibly…”
“I heal fast and we don’t have a choice. I may not know everything about our mission, but something tells me this is more important than any I’ve embarked on before.”
Aput
said nothing, but he had a new appreciation for the warrior caste who were no longer the brutes he was raised to believe they were. He had a sense that Shook had a similar awakening as well.
Aput had spent his fair share of time watching the night sky through a small hole on a telescope. Those nights were long and lonely, only him and the night sky as the rest of the world slept. He’d never found staying awake at night difficult, in fact, he thought that in many ways it was much easier to stay alert at night being lost in his thoughts as others were forced to get lost in dreams they could not control. This night was different. There was no night sky as it was hidden by the canopy above. His solitude was a repeated drone and guttural snoring he’d never experienced before. He simply couldn’t get lost in thoughts that were constantly interrupted.
While all that Aput had said was the fact there was one thing he’d left out, at least for now, as he sought to discover the truth. Shortly after hoisting Shook off the ground, Aput went to work creating a fire. As fate had it, the Rawkta landed on a flat stone nearly perfect for heating. So, with little preparation, he’d had a fire built around the stone and just had to wait.
It took a considerable amount of time for the stone to heat enough to cook the Rawkta, but as it did Aput couldn’t help but notice a curious popping sound and then foam crackling at the wounds and slits of the beast’s mouthy beak. While Aput was no expert of the inner workings of a Rawkta, what he could discern is that none of this was normal. He also had an uncommon interest in natural control poisons. More so, there was a mixology which held control over even the strongest of beasts and with a trained potionist the beast could be commanded to follow orders. While uncommon and often cited as a myth, Aput couldn’t shake the idea that this Rawkta had been poisoned with Gildeamon weed. The signs were there from the Rawkta’s furious attack and refusal to abort the attack after receiving numerous death strokes, to the popping sound and foaming of the mouth.