Madas's Falling Star featuring Madas's Unexpected Gift

by S. E. Smith

  For the next hour, she carefully proceeded through the rocks, doubling back and laying false tracks at times in the hopes of slowing him down without hindering her own progress too much. The muted sounds of curses filtered upward once, causing her to freeze before she remembered how sound carried along the mountain.

  L’eon stopped and looked at her, his gleeful grin indicating that he was enjoying this as much as she was. She slowed her pace a little to conserve her energy. The last couple of days had been tiring. Madas had covered a lot of distance while getting little rest.

  She finally paused in a shaded area when she reached another section that would require a fair amount of climbing. Her heart melted when L’eon tiredly climbed up onto a large flat rock and laid down. His little tongue was hanging out of the side of his mouth and he was breathing heavily.

  Madas sat down beside him, propped her spear against the rock wall, and pulled her satchel around. She opened it and pulled out one of the green water nuts and a pouch of fruits and nuts. Reaching up under her sleeve, she pulled out one of the sharp blades sheathed in a leather band around her forearm and skillfully cut off the top so that L’eon could easily drink from it. She did the same for herself.

  They both drank deeply before wiping a hand—or in L’eon’s case, a front foot—across their mouths. Madas reached down and ran an affectionate hand over L’eon’s head. He leaned into her hand before falling over. She gently eased him down onto the rock.

  “It should take him a while to find his way. We can rest for a few minutes,” she quietly said.

  She scooted back against the rock wall and stared up at the clouds. A large grin curved her lips when she heard a barely suppressed groan of frustration followed by a series of curses. That was one thing she had learned over the last few days, the male knew some very colorful words.

  “You know, this is getting a little old,” he yelled.

  She covered her mouth and giggled. L’eon lifted his head, snorted, and rolled onto his belly. She lowered her hand and gently stroked his back.

  “You could at least answer me and tell me why you are leading me through this… this maze of torture,” he added.

  Madas debated whether to answer him. The way the Goddess’s Stronghold was formed, it was virtually impossible to know where the sound came from because it bounced off the curved walls. Still, there was a small part of herself that made her leery of being drawn into a conversation with him. What if… what if it became something more?

  “My name is Gril. Will you at least tell me your name?” he asked.

  “Madas,” she replied before she could draw it back. “My name is Madas.”

  She could feel the change in the air the moment she spoke. A cool wind swept down through the narrow passage, caressing her skin as if the Goddess herself had touched her. She looked both ways, almost afraid now that she had spoken to the pale Tearnat—to Gril—that he would suddenly appear.

  “Thank you for last night. You saved my life—which wouldn’t have been necessary if you hadn’t stolen the part from my ship, I might add—but, you still saved my life,” Gril said.

  “I didn’t steal the part—and you’re welcome,” she replied.

  “But you have it, don’t you?” Gril gently inquired.

  Her hand moved instinctively to her satchel. She could feel the metal box contained inside. Her fingers splayed across her only hope of escaping what could become a very miserable life.

  “What happened to your arm?” she asked instead.

  Gril looked down at his arm. He’d forgotten about his injury. His focus had been on finding the female.

  Madas, he thought.

  He had been surprised when she had answered him. Her voice had washed through him like a warm summer rain cleansing the sweat from his body. She sounded young and unsure, yet the skillful way she moved through the forest and these mazes of rocks contradicted that perception.

  “I had a rather unpleasant encounter with a black hairless beast who wanted to eat me,” he stated.

  “They are called the Black Shadows. They are hard to see because they are small, but can be deadly,” she informed him.

  “Now you tell me. Is there any secret moss that will keep them at bay?” he curiously asked.

  Her laughter echoed all around him. It was warm and sweet. His lips instinctively curved into a smile when he heard the sound.

  Gripping a rock, he quietly continued to climb. He’d given up on following the easy path. He was tired of running into a wall. His gaze swept over the area. There was no way of knowing where she was, but she couldn’t be far. He had spoken in a quieter voice and she had responded. He would use that to gauge the distance between them.

  “Unfortunately, no. They usually run in packs. If you only encountered one, it must have been old and desperate to try to eat something as big and tough as you,” she teased.

  Gril paused and took in a deep breath. “How do you know I’m all that tough? I could be quite tasty,” he quipped.

  “My people are not like yours. We don’t eat each other,” she said.

  He could hear a hard edge in her voice now and wondered if he had offended her, then he thought about what she had said. He was about to apologize when she spoke again.

  “Why do your people do that?” she asked.

  “Do what?” he asked with a frown.

  “Eat others—including your own people. The traders talk about how the pale Tearnats raid their ships and carry off the crew for food. I grew up hearing tales of how you even kill each other, devouring the weak. It is—wrong,” she said.

  Gril was frozen against the wall of rock he’d been climbing, his fingers wedged into a crevice. She thought his people were—unnatural beasts. She hadn’t misconstrued his teasing as sexual, but as something much more gruesome.

  “I did not mean it the way you think, Madas. My people—at least no Tearnat that I’ve ever met anyway—we don’t eat other species. I mean, we do—as in animals—but not ones like us or the other sentient species that visit our world. That is barbaric! We are a civilized culture despite what some may think. What about you? Does your clan practice cannibalism?” he countered.

  “Of course not! What a horrible thought,” she retorted. She grew quiet for a moment before she spoke again. “I don’t understand. If your clan does not kill others for food, why would the stories say that you do? The traders shared the same stories my mother told us. My mother said…. She lied, didn’t she? She told these lies to keep us fearful—to keep us from asking questions and from leaving—and she used the traders to help spread them. Father must have known after he visited…,” Madas said before her voice faded.

  Gril leaned his forehead against the rock. “We are not animals, Madas. I would not harm you,” he promised.

  He waited for a reply. Leaning his head back, he looked up at the top of the rock that he was climbing. The silence continued to stretch.

  “Madas…,” he called.

  “It is going to rain. You need to get to higher ground. The paths will flood quickly once it starts. Look for the dark red rocks. They will keep you safe,” she ordered, an edge of concern and urgency in her voice.

  Gril gritted his teeth. He could hear her moving farther away from him as she spoke. He looked up at the sky. She was right. The clouds had darkened over the past few minutes as they were talking.

  Looking around, he spied the dark red rocks that she had told him about. He needed to get to the other side of the path. He tensed and jumped, twisting as he pushed off of the rock where he had been clinging.

  His fingers dug into an indentation in the rock and he pulled himself up just as the first, fat droplets of rain began to fall. He swung to the next rock, steadily climbing until he reached the protective overhang of the dark red rock.

  Lightning flashed, illuminating the sky. Gazing across the top of the rocks, he saw Madas with L’eon clinging to her shoulder climbing among the rocks several hundred feet from his position. They were so c
lose and yet so far with the deep crevices between them.

  She turned and looked over her shoulder in his direction. Another thunderous rumble shook the mountain, causing loose rocks to tumble downward.

  Gril blinked when another bolt of lightning flashed. In that second, Madas had disappeared. He searched for some sign of her, but he couldn’t see anything through the curtain of rain steadily falling now.

  He stepped back, deeper into the shelter of the overhang, sat on a small outcropping of rock, and watched as the sky opened up. The roar of water rushing down through the ravines was deafening. His fingers tightened into fists.

  “Please, Goddess, let her be safe,” he silently prayed.

  11

  Water poured down over the edges of the rock Madas had taken refuge under. She silently cursed the fact that she had been so distracted by her conversation with Gril that she had failed to notice how the sky had darkened. The weather changed rapidly in the mountains. Her father had warned her never to forget that fact.

  It only takes a moment to change the rest of your life, my sweet Madas. It can happen even faster here in the mountains.

  She closed her eyes as the faint sound of her father’s voice reverberated through her mind. Her biggest fear was that she would forget the sound of his voice. She slowly opened her eyes when L’eon nudged her.

  Her gaze softened and she wound her arms around him, cradling him against her chest. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head, and was rewarded when his body heated up, chasing away the chill that had settled over her damp flesh.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, rubbing her cheek against his warm head.

  She hoped that Gril had found a safe place. She had tried to find him, but the rain had come. Their conversation had surprised her. She had not expected him to be so polite—or eloquent.

  It was clear that she had surprised him when she accused his people of killing and eating people. Nothing about him made sense to her and it was frustrating! Was everything she thought she knew a lie? Why would her mother and the council members create such a horrid myth and conspire with the traders to spread it? Goddess, but she wished her father or grandmother were still alive so she could ask them. Right now, she felt so confused and lost.

  “What is the truth? Who do I believe?” she whispered.

  Thunder rolled across the sky. The rain could last from a matter of minutes to hours. Once it finished, they would still have to wait until it was safe enough to exit their shelters. That could be many more hours.

  “This would be a good time to rest,” she said.

  She looked down at L’eon. He was already asleep, snug in her arms. Madas slowly sank to the rocky surface and laid down, keeping L’eon close to her. She pulled her satchel up under her head to use as a pillow.

  “I hope there are no dreams today,” she murmured as her eyes closed.

  Back in the meadow near the lake, Devac tossed the bloodied rag to the floor of the fighter, picked up a long, silver cylinder, and ran the red laser along each of the five deep lacerations that stretched from shoulder to elbow. The smell of burning flesh was carried away on the wind.

  All attempts to track Gril through the forest had proven not only fruitless, but nearly fatal. The only new clue had been the small boot tracks. It was obvious that Gril was following whoever had left them.

  “You have to return to your ship, but there is also the possibility that you sought help from the locals. Either way, I will find you and be ready to finish what I started,” Devac harshly vowed, throwing the medical device back into the black bag.

  Devac stored the medical kit and turned to look to the west. Pressing the control to conceal the fighter sitting in the meadow, Devac studied the map on the scanner. It was time to visit the locals and find out what they knew about the missing Prince of the Tearnats.

  Gril looked down at the roiling red waves of mud. The rain had finally begun to recede. Unfortunately, he was now stuck. The rocks were too slick to climb and the raging waters below were a certain death trap. He was stranded for the moment.

  He reached down and unfastened one of the leg pockets on his trousers. Reaching in, he pulled out one of the small green water nuts and the bundle of food remaining from last night.

  Once again, Madas comes to my rescue, he thought with a wry grin.

  He would need to catch up with her because this was the last of his food and water. As he opened the top of the nut, he couldn’t help but wonder who had taught her so much about survival. He knew warriors back in the desert—himself included—who would have struggled to make it a day in the forest.

  “Who am I kidding? I was ready to give up after the red ferns almost burned me alive,” he mused.

  Looking out over the mountain, he shook his head in wonder. Several of the sandstone turrets had collapsed, and now he could see new ones being sculpted by the rushing water. The maze of passages was changing before his eyes, as well. How did anyone ever learn how to navigate them?

  He searched the red rocks for some sign of Madas and L’eon, his worry intensifying when he couldn’t see any sign of them. He was about to attempt to be heard above the roar of the water when he saw a slight movement. Relief swept through him when he saw L’eon emerge from a dark red rock about five hundred feet from him.

  The little lizard rose on his back legs and gazed out over the area until he spotted Gril. Gril raised his hand to the snarky little thief. L’eon grinned back at him, then turned and disappeared again.

  “Well, now I know where you are, I just need to figure out a way to get over to you without killing myself,” he murmured.

  It was time to take charge of the situation. He had been reacting instead of taking command. That was going to change now. He scanned the mountain, and focused his attention on the plateau above. It was obvious that was where she was leading him.

  “No more detours, Madas. I think it is time we met face to face,” he said.

  Madas felt along the edge of the rock, searching for a good place to grip. She was tired, filthy, and just a little ill-tempered at the moment. The rain had stopped several hours ago and the water had receded to leave the paths through the rocks covered with muddy sludge.

  She growled in frustration when her feet slipped. Fortunately, she had found a hand hold and was able to keep from falling. She looked down and scowled. A thirty foot drop onto rocks would not be fun. Pulling herself up, she finally made it to more solid rock and was able to take a break.

  She looked up when she felt small pebbles raining down on her. L’eon was staring down from the top of the plateau. He wasn’t any cleaner than she was at the moment.

  “Any sign of him?” she quietly called up.

  L’eon shook his head. Madas released a long sigh and focused on making it to the top of the plateau. The flood waters had blocked the paths that she would normally have used. On a good note, she wouldn’t have to worry about learning the new paths after she trapped Gril on the other side of the ravine.

  She would take the western trail back. It weaved back and forth, and cut along the river—if she was lucky. If not, she’d have to take the path through the boiling pits. She’d stop by her home to pick up her belongings, and then she’d retrieve her new spaceship, and never return to this area.

  It would take an extra day, but it would be easier than trying to navigate the rocks again, especially if there was more rain. She grunted as she pulled herself over the side and rolled onto her back, breathing heavily from her climb and wincing when the shaft of her spear dug into her shoulder blades. Rolling to the side, she pushed off the ground and stood up.

  The dry, arid soil on the long flat surface was dotted with small trees. The soil here quickly absorbed the rainwater. What little water remained would either run down the mountain or quickly evaporate.

  She scanned the rocks below for a sign of Gril. She knew he had made it through the storm. As long as he had waited for the flood waters to recede, he should be fine—though by now, he sho
uld have deduced that she was leading him up.

  The brief thought that he might have made it to the top before her flashed through her mind, and unease rolled through her. She pulled her spear from where she had attached it to the strap of her satchel. Casting a wary gaze around, she motioned to L’eon to keep an eye out.

  “See if you can find any tracks,” she ordered.

  L’eon nodded and took off across the ground. Madas walked along the cliff, looking for any sign that Gril had made it up to the top before her. She was about to turn back when a disturbed nest of the insects caught her attention. The rock they normally sheltered under had been moved, and the worker insects were all banding together to heave it back to its former place over their nest.

  She walked over to it. Her gaze meticulously scanned the area until she saw the slight impression of a boot heel. She released an appreciative whistle when she noticed how he had moved from medium-sized rock to medium-sized rock where he could in order to hide his tracks.

  “You are good, pale Tearnat, but not quite good enough,” she murmured, looking in the direction he had gone.

  She released a series of whistles that sounded like a bird call. L’eon was familiar with it and would hear her. She silently continued along the plateau.

  It wasn’t like she had much choice. Traversing up the cliff had been dangerous enough. Trying to go down it would be suicide unless she waited for the water to dry up. Even then, she could step on dried, caked mud, thinking it was stone, and it could crumble under her weight. At least going up, she tested each section before she put her weight on it.

  No, the only way now was along the western rim. The path was narrow, carved by animals for thousands of years, but relatively safe. There was just the occasional landslide or animal encounter.