by Lori Holmes
“Kyaati, I don’t know what to do. I know you don’t want to respond but please listen. When I ran on the night you lost your baby, I ended up near the Pits. I-I found a Wove. He’d fallen into one of the traps. I turned to run but… before I got away, I-I thought I heard a voice whispering something, something only one other person besides me should know.”
Nyri’s thoughts swirled as the impossible fought to make itself a reality in her mind. “That person was Juaan, Kya! The Wove said something only Juaan could know.” She realised her hands were shaking and clenched her fists. “But how can I let myself believe that that… thing down there is him? I’ve done my best to convince myself that I imagined what I heard and forget. A Wove deserves nothing but death.”
She blew out a breath and forced herself to relax her fingers. “Every time I close my eyes, I see him there. I see the boy I knew dying in the woods alone. I hear his voice, calling me from the dark. I can’t stand it! I know I promised I wouldn’t leave you again, Kyaati, but I have to go back. I have to know the truth if I am ever going to know peace. I owe it to the boy who saved my life.”
Nyri sucked in a sharp breath, the cold biting at her lungs. Now that she had voiced her turmoil, her path was clear. She could not hide from this. Sefaan was right; Juaan or mindless Wove, she had to know. She had to act now or she would be tormented forever. Time was running out.
“Have you slept at all?” A voice came from the entranceway. Baarias was there, observing her ragged state. He appeared only a little more rested than he had the day before.
“I have to go, Baarias.”
“Where?” He was visibly taken aback by Nyri’s sharp tone. She could feel him probing her state of mind.
“I can’t say.” She moved past him, her stride conveying her determination. “There is something I have to do. I’ll be back. I promise. Please watch over Kyaati for me.”
Nyri swept out of the dwelling before Baarias could stop her and demand that she explain. She could not stop. If she did, she might falter and she needed to know this one thing.
Her very sanity depended on it.
14
Friend or Foe?
Nyri was running before she even left the eshaara grove. Now that she had come to her decision, the sense of urgency she had been trying to suppress was almost unbearable. She had to get back to the Pits, right now. Something was tugging at her, telling her all would be lost if she did not hurry. Strange, disembodied images of savaging fangs and the spilling of blood flickered through her mind, goading her flight.
She was careful to keep her senses thrown out as far as they would go. The thought of the Woves lurking in the trees threatened to overcome her need. She pushed her legs faster. The hardened ground hurt her feet. She had eaten so little her body threatened to rebel against the misuse.
Just as she thought her body and courage would take her no further, Nyri reached her destination and the reason for her sense of urgency became terribly clear.
“Batai! No!” She rushed towards the wolf pack surrounding the Pit holding her answers. The young wolf had been preparing to leap to the bottom, lips peeled hungrily from his thick fangs.
No! Nyri threw out her command. Batai leaped back from the edge, lupine surprise registering on his face. He looked at Nyri along with the rest of the pack. A few snarls of frustration broke out.
Nyri cringed. Trying to take a wolf pack’s kill was not usually in anyone’s best interest. It was downright stupid. Times were lean for all of them. But Nyri had no choice. Lifting her chin, she approached carefully but purposefully, claiming the area with her energy and posture. Nyri conveyed herself as the strongest member; an alpha, not to be questioned.
They allowed her approach. She singled out the alpha male. He bit back on his impatience and consented to let Nyri touch his grey-brown head. He’s with me. She didn’t think the words; words meant nothing to wolves. Nyri radiated the energies and instincts that he would understand; the language of the earth. The figure down there was part of her pack and therefore off the menu. He listened then huffed consentingly. Releasing his pent up energy with a sharp shake of his dark fur, he walked away. Most of the pack followed except Batai who lay down at the Pit edge watching Nyri curiously.
“I promise, Batai,” she whispered, “if he is not Juaan, you have my permission to eat him.”
The wolf cocked his head at the sounds she made, uncomprehending, but he waited respectfully for her next move nonetheless.
Nyri hesitated, unsure of what that should be. Now that she was here, the uncertainty and doubt had returned. They clutched at her throat, pulling her back. She was more frightened than she could say. Juaan, she reminded her quailing soul. You owe it to him.
Everything was in her heart as she stepped up to the rocky edge. Wove or Juaan, her Juaan, returned from the dead? She did not know in that moment which thought scared her the most. There was no sound coming from the Pit and Nyri dared to lean further over. Her breath caught in her throat as the dark form came into view.
He wasn’t moving.
Nyri reached out with her higher senses. Please don’t be gone, she thought as she searched for his energy. His life force was barely there. He wasn’t gone but he was close.
Nyri sank to her haunches at the edge of the precipice, gnawing anxiously on a ragged fingernail. For a few moments, she just sat there watching the form in the Pit. She was clueless as to how she should proceed and find her answers. The empty eye socket of the skull stared blankly up at her, sending a chill down her spine. She thought of Juaan’s face as she remembered it, set with beloved green eyes. She would know those eyes anywhere. She must truly be losing her mind to even consider that this skull-headed demon could be him.
Nyri cast around. Picking up a pebble, she aimed and dropped it into the depths. It bounced off the body below and rattled noisily across the ground. Nyri flinched and leaned back, ready to run, but he did not even stir.
“Hey,” she dared to breathe. “Hey.”
Nothing. Frustrated, she got to her feet and paced restlessly up and down the edge. Did she dare go down there? Her steps faltered at the very thought but it seemed there was no other option. She could not go home without her answers and time was slipping away. She would have to lower herself down and face the potential viper in the Pit.
Before her common sense could talk her out of the suicidal idea, Nyri searched the immediate area. First problem: getting down. It was a long way to the bottom. The stone walls were smooth and slightly concave. She could not climb down by scrambling on the rocks. She spied a long, thin root running along the surface of the earth. The idea formed as Nyri followed the root’s course to its end.
Digging into the soil, she pulled it up. It was thin but strong; Nyri believed it would take her weight. She retraced her steps, pulling and heaving the root out of the ground as she went. There were points where the ground was still too hard and Nyri had to strike it with a rock to make it yield its powerful grip on her root-rope.
At last, she was back at the edge of the Pit with the length of root clasped in her fists. Nyri stared warily at the figure below and then threw the root down with a trembling hand. The dark form remained motionless and her confidence lifted.
Even so, it was still a few more moments and quite a few more deep breaths before Nyri could bring herself to follow her rope’s path. Memories of past death and destruction flickered at the edges of her consciousness, fur clad figures burning at the centre. She balled her fists; her palms were slick with sweat.
Damn you, Sefaan. Nyri wiped her tingling palms dry and swung her legs over the side of the hole, watching the figure below as she would a venomous snake. It was now or never. With one last prayer to Ninmah for protection, Nyri took hold of the root and began to lower herself down. Her whole body was a mass of nerves. If that figure so much as twitched, she would be climbing back up as fast as she could go. He could not be let to escape.
But he did not move and before she knew it, Nyri
’s toes were touching cold, unyielding rock. She looked up at the sky above. Batai was staring down at her, a soft whine sounded from his throat as his ears tilted towards his neck.
“Stay there,” she breathed.
It was even worse now that she was down. Paralysed by fear, Nyri stood with her hands fixed upon the root. This went against every instinct she possessed.
Dropping into a defensive half-crouch, she backed quickly away from the figure lying on the ground. She stopped only when her back contacted the wall of the Pit and she could go no further. Sinking back onto her heels, she pressed her body against the unrelenting stone, wishing she could disappear into it. She did not even dare to breathe.
As she struggled to relocate her courage, Nyri made a quick study. Black furs covered the body from head to toe. Broken shards of bone protruded from the limbs here and there. The thought struck that this was the very demon who had approached Kyaati at the base of that fateful tree; the leader of the band that had raided her tribe.
Anger and hate flared inside of her. The urge to drop a heavy rock on his head in vengeance for what they had done was almost overwhelming. Nyri had to keep the thought of Juaan very firmly in her head in that moment.
There was nothing for it. Nyri had to move. Hesitant, she stole silently along on both hands and feet until she was right next to the Wove. She was so close she could smell the dirty furs; Nyri wrinkled her nose in distaste. Without touching him, she made a cursory sweep of his physical condition. His right leg was broken, the calf bloodied and torn by a nasty wolf bite. She could not be sure without contact but she suspected that two of his ribs were cracked.
What pain he must be in. Nyri felt a quiver of pity, Wove or no. She was a healer after all. She cocked her head. Did evil spirits feel pain?
She scrutinised the grisly garments. She had never had the opportunity to study a Wove up close before. No one had. Everyone was always too busy running away. Her gaze travelled reluctantly up to the skull and Nyri flinched back in astonishment. The hideous head had twisted into an unnatural angle but the neck was not snapped. Instead human hair and skin had been revealed beneath the bone. Nyri reached out with tentative fingers and gave the grinshaa skull an experimental nudge.
It shifted beneath her touch, revealing a human chin and jaw bone. Nyri gasped. It was a mask! Her heart began to pound as she made another sweep of the body, finding other falsehoods as she did. The terrifying, jutting bones covering the arms and legs were nothing more than animal bones tied into place. With the lies revealed, Nyri found this form before her to be strikingly similar to her own people. She could feel no power, no dark magic. It was then that an object tied at the fur-wrapped waist caught her eye and her breath froze inside her chest.
It couldn’t be!
It was an object out of place amidst all of the foreign furs. A leaf-leather pouch. A Ninkuraaja pouch. It was battered and old but she remembered it. She remembered it so very well. Her hands shook as they went to her mouth, tears of disbelief starting in her eyes. She hadn’t dared, hadn’t truly dared to believe until this moment. Nyri was lifting the little leather bag before she even paused to consider her actions.
She was on the ground before she could think. Long fingers grabbed her wrist, yanking her hand away from the leather bag with irresistible strength. She was thrown to the hard rock like a leaf. The air was knocked from her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. Then another hand was closing around her throat, cutting off her airway. “No, no,” she croaked.
The world blurred. Her hands went to the fingers choking the life from her battered body. A face appeared above her, the concealing skull tumbling completely away. The features were rough, hairy, foreign but in the midst of it all, staring balefully down, were a pair of green green eyes.
The sharp edge of a blade joined the hand at her throat. A shot of adrenaline lent Nyri vital strength. She managed to pry the fingers away enough to scream.
“Juaan! No!”
15
Stranger
“No, Juaan!”
Her mother’s sharp command stopped the boy in his tracks. Nyriaana stood, trembling and frightened, arms still outstretched from where the boy had twisted free of them. She shrank down, terrified by the anger and hate he was radiating. He was facing away from her, readying to launch himself at a group of Elders who had arrived on the scene, their voices raised and full of revulsion as they demanded to know her mother’s business.
They took a half a step back from Juaan’s violent reaction but otherwise showed no other sign of surprise. Nyri felt a pair of arms scoop her from the ground as her father rushed her to a safe distance.
“Jaai!” He called. “Get away from him.”
Her mother ignored him. “Juaan,” she said again more gently. “Don’t. Don’t give them an excuse.” She turned her gaze to the Elders, her expression cold. “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves,” she scolded and Nyri felt her father draw a breath of shock. “The boy is grieving. His mother joined the Great Spirit last night. Have you no heart?”
“The heathen is dead,” Aardn, the youngest of the Elders spoke, eyeing Nyri’s mother with distaste. “I see no reason as to why… that,” she gestured to the tall boy, “should stay now.”
Nyri watched as the boy balled his fists. He was shaking. He could barely contain his rage. Jaai put her hand out in a blocking motion and calming energy rolled out, cocooning him. The trembling eased.
“Rebaa was no traitor,” her mother spoke evenly. “She was a true daughter of Ninmah. Juaan carries her blood and you gave her your word. Would you dishonour the promise you made before Ninmah herself to one of her own, exulted Elders?” She shamed them with her words.
“Watch yourself, Jaai.”
“Would you?”
Their annoyance was palpable but they could not fight her mother’s words. Aardn curled her lip. “Who is going to keep him now? No one in their-”
“I will look after him,” Jaai said firmly. “I gave my promise to Rebaa, too, and I intend to honour it. I will raise her son as my own.”
Aardn hissed between her teeth. “You’re as crazy as Rebaa.”
Jaai held her ground. “Even so, I will not break a promise made before Ninmah. Sefaan herself ordained that it was meant to be. I cannot go against the Kamaali.”
Aardn’s jaw worked in frustration. “And we all must honour the Kamaali’s wishes,” she ground out. “For now. Alright, keep the abomination. He is yours until our word binds us no longer. Prepare yourself for that day.” It was a stark promise. “We will be waiting.” With that, the Elders turned away, skirting around the green-eyed boy in their midst as if his very presence sullied them.
Jaai let out a breath and turned to Nyri and her father. “It is all right, Telaan. Let her back down.”
“No,” her father refused, gripping her tighter. “Jaai, that thing is dangerous. Would you risk your own child so readily?”
Her mother snarled and Nyri felt her father flinch. “How dare you, Telaan. You know very well Nyri means more to me than life itself!”
Nyri was watching the boy they called Juaan. She wondered why he was causing such trouble. Now his anger had burned out, he didn’t look that frightening to her. He had collapsed to his knees and was crying openly. Just a boy who had lost his mama. Her heart bled for him.
She struggled in her father’s arms. “Put me down, papa!” He only held her tighter. She stopped struggling and put her hand to his face, letting him feel what she did. “Please. Mama says he is safe. He not hurt me. I know.” She could not say how she knew that. She just did.
Her father’s eyes flickered to her and then her mother. Under both their dark indigo stares he gave in. He placed Nyri on the ground but he did not stay. He walked away and climbed back into their tree and out of sight. Her mother’s gaze followed him, face tightening with concern.
Nyri paid them no more mind. She tottered back to the strange boy who was now part of her family. She plopped herself next to
him.
“Why they hate you?”
“Different.” His face was buried in his long hands.
“Oh.” She didn’t really understand.
Reaching out, she began to toy with a little leather bag that was tied to his waist. “What this?”
His tear streaked face came out from behind the hands to glare at her. “My mother gave it to me. Leave it.” He shifted his hip, sharply moving the pouch out of her reach.
She put her hands behind her back. She stared at his eyes; the colour was unnerving. Different. Different? They hated him because he was different. Nyri dropped her gaze. She scratched a little in the soil with her fingers, frowning thoughtfully. She stopped when her nails came up against the hard, unrelenting surface of a rock. The stone was smooth and round and would fit into her palm nicely. She dug the pebble from the earth, intent on collecting it.
Wiping off the dirt, she held it up to Ninmah to study her find. She gasped as the light caught it. It was green, like his eyes, glinting so prettily in the golden rays. She closed her fist around her new treasure and looked up at the weeping boy next to her. His mother had given him a gift. She was gone now so Nyri would give him a gift instead.
“Look. For you.” She nudged his arm. “For you.” He peeked down at her little, outstretched hand. “Pretty rock. Pretty… like your eyes.”
He paused, then reached out and plucked the pebble from her palm, blinking at Nyri in wonder. “Pretty?”
She nodded, grinning shyly under her lashes. “Yes.”
He gave her a slow, tremulous smile in return. “Thank you,” he whispered.
She glanced up to where her father had disappeared, frowning. “You no hurt me?”
Juaan shook his head, hand closing around her gift. “Never.”
* * *
“Juaan! No!”
He was gone from above her in an instant. Released from his strangling hold, Nyri doubled up on herself, choking and heaving. She gulped the frigid air into her starved lungs. Her neck felt bruised. It was a few moments before she recovered enough strength to raise her head. On all fours, she stared across the Pit. The fur-wrapped figure was now pressed against the furthest wall, watching Nyri with startled, wary eyes.
