by Mara Duryea
The bookshelf…it had sharp corners. It was heavy.
Jumping to my feet, I tried to lift the bookshelf, but it hardly moved. It took me a minute to realize I had to remove the books. I scattered them to the floor.
Dragging the bookshelf through the mess of volumes, I eased it onto the bed. With it acting as a prop, I hefted the shelf over my head. Every tiny muscle strained as I hurled the bookshelf against the wooden door. Crack! A small hole popped open in the wood. I repeated the method twice more. On the third try, a slab snapped off, leaving a good-sized gap.
Shoving the shelf aside, I poked my head into the hallway. It was colder out here. The familiar glow of firelight no longer lit the end of the corridor. Had everyone abandoned me? The underground house seemed unusually quiet. Had they at least left food and water behind?
Grabbing the mirilite from my bedside basket, I hastened down the hall and examined the living room. The only light shined from the orb, which was small enough to fit into my hand. The light popped the white roots overhead in low relief. I could just see the gaping maw of the jagged tunnel leading into the kitchen and dining room. Coats still hung on the man-shaped rack. People were home, so where were they?
My breath wisped in and out of the pale mirilite as I crossed to the rack. Pulling my jacket from the lowest hook, I swung it on and sighed in relief. My boots and hat were nowhere in sight, though.
I glanced into the tunnel’s black depths. There was food and water down there. This tunnel couldn’t possibly be worse than Sizhirin. I’d attack him if he refused me relief. Taking a deep breath, I darted through the tunnel and succeeded into the dining room. Elation surged over me. I had braved the tunnel alone and survived.
The mirilite lit my way to the water barrel. Putting the orb in my pocket, I twisted the little faucet stuck into the barrel and drank. The water splashed cold into my stomach and sent shivers across my skin, but I couldn’t get enough. I drank myself sick.
Turning off the faucet, I breathed in relief. Now I could think clearer. Where was the food? I glanced around as I reached into my pocket for the orb, but stopped. Orange light highlighted the edges and corners of the counters and cabinets. The orange light itself was a gleaming line from floor to ceiling in one corner. I investigated. The light issued from a slightly open door. There had to be fire in there, which meant cooking fire, which meant food.
Pushing my way through, I stood at the top of spiraling steps construed of packed dirt. Orange mirilite hung from the ceiling. That was weird. It was supposed to be white.
Something was cooking down there, though. Sizhirin might be with it, so I had to be careful.
“The children found a harvest tonight,” said the Hatrin woman’s voice. It offered some relief, but not enough. “They will be kind to Karijin’s palate.”
“Thank you, Azhanya,” said Sizhirin. “Karijin, will you eat?”
I almost spun around and fled, but Sizhirin had addressed Karijin. However I felt about Sizhirin and the Hatrin woman Azhanya, I knew Karijin to be my brother.
“Of course, Father,” said Karijin in a faltering voice. “I will do anything for you, but...”
“Karijin, Karijin, my son, I fear it may be your aura harming K’lar, which is why I have not allowed you to see him these last three days. He is quieter now that you have not been there. Can you see that he has not run out into the snow like a wild thing? He obediently remains in his room, as I’ve instructed him to.”
I started down the stairs.
“You must relinquish your Iskerkin blood if we are to be a family,” said Sizhirin. “Have no fear. I am by your side. Let your tense muscles relax, and trust that all is well in hand. Did I not tell you so after your false father had beaten you to the point of death? Did I not slit his throat for his crimes against you? Though the kizhiridors pursued, I was able to bring you home safe. Did I not say then that all would be well?”
“You did,” said Karijin softly. “And it was.”
I looked into the room. A large pot boiled over a massive fire. Thick roots hung from the ceiling and down the walls. Beyond the pot was a pulsing orifice in a pool of blood. As if nothing were amiss, Sizhirin, Karijin and Azhanya sat around a small table. Between them steamed a plateful of small brains.
Karijin dug his claws into the table. “I trust you, Father.” He stared at the brains for several seconds. If I’d known what the brains meant, I would have stopped him. With a deep breath, he sank his teeth in, tore off a chunk, and swallowed as quickly as he could.
No sooner had he done it than Karijin shrieked. His body was engulfed in scarlet flames. Eerie blue rushed up the tongues of fire. Black frost spread from his feet like his soul was bleeding to death. As he hit the floor, ice crystals clawed up the walls and killed the fire under the boiling pot. All the while, Karijin wailed as if his guts were being scooped out.
8
Journey through the Snow
Screaming in terror, I tore up the stairs, stumbled through the kitchen, and tripped down the tunnel of roots. It held no fear for me anymore. Now it was a blessed conduit leading to escape. Panic made me strong, and I threw the beam off its track. Shoving the door open, I sprinted into the moonlight.
Had the snow been shallower, I’d have run like a madman through the forest on foot, but there was a wall of ice before me. The moonlight gleamed on a frigid trail cutting through a canyon of snow to my right. Racing down it, I stumbled on the kiderrin house.
The beast could get me out of here faster than Sizhirin could hope to run. Evergrins couldn’t reach me on it. I’d rather face those monsters and a flock of riliths than what haunted this underground house.
As I forced open the wooden door, the stench of Cubon and must stung my nose. The beast nervously paced in its stall, as if it knew what had happened to Karijin. The rilith hadn’t phased it in the least.
I was too small to frame the kiderrin, but I could bridle it if I climbed on its head. Nobody from the underground house had taught me this. Somebody had, though.
I seemed like a live hat as I looped the rope bridle around the kiderrin’s head. Just then, Karijin’s cries broke through the barriers of the house. A block of ice dropped into my gut. He sounded like he was outside the door! I sprang from the kiderrin’s head onto its back, reins trailing from my hand like snakes.
I screeched at the kiderrin, and it lunged from the stable. It sprang over the wall of ice as I hooked my little claws into its back to keep from tumbling off. The beylias blurred past. The underground house shrank until it vanished altogether.
I flew in clouds of snow. Freezing wind stung my cheeks. Icy particles feathering from the trees glittered in the pinkish light of the Jewel Moon. Taking a deep breath, I unhooked my claws and tucked my feet beneath me to keep them warm against the kiderrin’s back. I’d finally escaped. Now I could find the tug.
The gnawing hunger and freezing cold kept me awake through the long journey. Jewel Moon crawled across the sky until it gave way to the planet-like Midnight Moon. As the behemoth loomed through the eastern trees, a giant rilith glided through the forest. Something wiggled in its wicked talons. Its shrill screams desecrated the winter silence. I froze where I sat, but the kiderrin continued on as if it were as safe as day. The rilith was satisfied with its catch.
Rough wind tossed the clouds across the moon, and snow fell in torrents. It packed on my head and shoulders. When it was too heavy, it cascaded off like a mini avalanche. I pulled my hood lower as the wind threatened to knock me from my perch.
The tug led me through the storm. The snow piled so high that it sloughed around my shoulders. With the jacket sleeves acting as gloves, I gripped the reins in rising dread that I’d fall off and be buried forever.
Only when the howling wind died down did I open my eyes. Pale shafts of moonlight cut through open patches of clouds. Large snowflakes tumbled gracefully from the sky. The snow still pooled around my shoulders, and all I could see of the kiderrin was its bobbing head. It had fla
ttened its pointed ears to keep the snow out of them. Snow streamed around its neck like sparkling blue ribbons.
When the moon neared zenith, the clouds dispersed. A twenty-foot silhouette loomed over a ridge. It lumbered on two legs, and a stiff tail pointed behind it. Small mirror eyes glimmered in a rectangular head that bobbed as it walked. Huge claws tucked against its chest touched the ground every other step. It was a lone jirin. At the time, I didn’t know that was unusual.
Darting behind a tree, the kiderrin burrowed into a drift. The tops of our heads peeped over the snow like pebbles. Only my eyes moved as they traced the hulking beast’s movements. It limped, using its arms when putting weight on its right leg. The snow diffused the vibrations of the jirin’s steps and transformed the beast into a soundless specter. It staggered by without noticing me.
Three riliths swooped down on the jirin from behind and gouged their talons into its head and back. The silence shattered in the wake of the jirin’s agonized roar.
Twisting its head around, it snapped at the rilith tearing at its back. The giant fowl screeched in pain as the humungous jaws sank into its wing. Bones crackled like breaking logs. The jirin worried its attacker’s wing off. Blood gushed into the snow like a steaming waterfall.
The jirin snapped at the others, but they flew clear. More riliths shot silently from different angles. They ripped gory chunks from the gray hide before darting back into the air.
In a few minutes, the jirin had become a steaming skeleton. The last of the riliths vanished into the realms of ice. Some of them still carried shreds of flesh in their talons. The kiderrin decided we were safe and pushed out of the grave of snow. I was starting to freeze without knowing it.
I steered the kiderrin towards the tug once more. A whiff of blood and guts caught my nose before the wind carried it off half a second later. In a moment, I could no longer see where the massacre had occurred.
The snow drifts became less high, until they streamed around the kiderrin’s knees. A dark paminree tree rose up among the beylias, followed by another and another, until the paminrees outnumbered the beylias. Their trunks rising from one base reminded me of frayed black rope. Naked branches clawed for the sky like drowning swimmers.
The fact that this place appeared nothing like the environs of the underground house filled me with ease, but my relief was short-lived. Movement caught my eye. Ten four-footed canines in heavy white winter coats loped through the forest. Giant claws sliced through the snow. The three blades at the ends of their bushy tails winked under the moon. Long pointed ears stood straight up, listening for victims like me. Round muzzles housed rows of curved teeth.
Kizhiridors who’d fought them off the protective walls told horror stories of m’kriths. They said they were six to eight feet tall, agile as snakes, and could climb trees. Those bladed tails hacked through bone as easily as a knife cleaved a mushroom. Some of the m’kriths definitely looked bigger than my kiderrin, who was about nine feet tall and almost twice as long.
M’kriths knew how to avoid the second stomach where the explosive Culobbin lurked, but didn’t harass retsinists or their young. There were too many of them together, but my kiderrin was alone. It hid in the branches of a paminree as the m’kriths swept by. They were so close that I could see their gleaming eyes.
No sooner did I think myself safe than the m’krith in back halted. It was the only one with black-tipped ears. It swiveled its great head in my direction. The eyes sparked, and it let loose a guttural bark. The other m’kriths stopped and glared at me.
Moaning in terror, the kiderrin broke cover and bolted. Snow winged out on either side of it like ocean waves. I dropped the reins and dug my claws into the back as I flattened on my stomach.
The m’kriths tore after us. They formed a semi-circle around us that slowly closed like a noose. Guttural snarls grated on my ears as the stench of death and urine reeked off of their powerful bodies.
Out of all the hideous growls, one deeper than the rest drowned them out. Like trained soldiers, the beasts sank their jaws into the kiderrin’s legs. The kiderrin pitched forward, dislodging my little claws from its back. Flying across the surface of the snow for almost twenty feet, I plunged into a deep, powdery drift.
Snow smothered my face, trapping my limbs. I would rather have been eaten by a m’krith than suffocate inside the drift. I clawed for the surface, screaming for I didn’t know who. I couldn’t even understand myself.
My hand broke into clear air. Kicking like a madman, I escaped the hole my body had made. Not ten feet away, the kiderrin and m’kriths rolled in a snarling, shrieking bloodbath.
I flailed through the snow towards the tug. He’d keep me safe. Could he have heard me if I called? I’d have tried if I’d known what to call him. Never had I hated snow so much! It was like wading through a sticky lake.
I felt like a hapless picture suspended in time and space. The battle seemed constantly at my back. My only clue that I’d made progress was the sudden twinkle of mirilite among the trees. Hope ignited within me.
Giant protective walls rose behind the trees. Mirilite lit the silhouettes of watchful kizhiridors across the top. I had made it.
The savage battle fell silent.
“Someone down there,” a kizhiridor shouted in a Vaylanian accent.
“Help me,” I sobbed.
“Is one baby!”
“M’kriths! Cover him!”
I looked back. The m’kriths hadn’t forgotten me. Ten of the blood-drenched beasts watched me with bright eyes. A deep snarl rumbled from the black-tipped m’krith. Wrinkled grins stretched across massive jowls, and they charged.
With a scream paralyzed in my throat, I threw my hands over my head. The forest lit in orange as fire arrows rained from the sky. They skewered the m’kriths through.
The black-tipped m’krith crashed into the snow inches from me, still alive. It didn’t care about the arrow or its cooking flesh. Its eyes rolled with blood lust as it lunged for my throat.
It never made it. A black spear crowned with dark feathers cracked into its skull. A kiderrin almost trampled me as a powerful arm reached down and plucked me out of the snow. I caught a glimpse of a man’s dark face and brilliant green eyes. He hugged me to his stomach as he swerved the kiderrin back to the protective wall. The square buttons of his coat pressed cold against my cheek.
Fire arrows continued bombarding the m’kriths as the kiderrin sprinted for the hulking steel door at the wall’s base. The man glanced back once, and his muscles tensed. He shouted and the door opened. The kiderrin dashed through.
Two kizhiridors in heavy coats slid the door shut with a bang. Claws screeched down the metal as the m’kriths snarled in frustration. I squished my face into my rescuer’s stomach.
He patted my back. “Is okay, is okay. You safe now.” He lifted me up, and I rested my chin on his shoulder. The man climbed down from the kiderrin as several kizhiridors investigated what he’d pulled from the snow. One of the kizhiridors lifted my hood and shined a fire stick in my face.
“Great Cubons!” The kizhiridor jerked me from my rescuer and shoved me into a corner. We were still in the entry tunnel leading from the main gate. The steel door was for kizhiridors to pass through, like my rescuer had. The main gate was a hundred feet high and six feet thick. Only the muscle of ten kiderrins could slide it open.
A fifty-foot tunnel conducted into the town. Doors along the tunnel routed inside the protective wall. A wooden door opened into the kiderrin house. Only law enforcers’ kiderrins used it. I was huddled against this door.
The kizhiridor pointed a spear at me as my rescuer spun around in shock. “What goes on?”
“Look at him, Rindar!”
Rindar’s brilliant green eyes scanned my frame. He had dark brown skin and jetty hair poking out of a fur-lined hood. His long coat was full of pockets. Large buttons ran down the front. Thick pants shrouded the top of his furry, clawed feet. A fluffy tail swished back and forth around his ank
les. As far as I could tell, it was jet black. His face contorted as more armed kizhiridors surrounded me. They were dressed similarly to the big Miricor.
Sometimes, people got mixed up with Miricors and Rykories. Unlike Rykories, Miricors had pads on their feet, and their ears were located on the sides of their head. Their tails were thicker. Miricors were also blessed with a bigger build, and of course weren’t dyeing themselves bizarre colors. I knew Rindar was a Miricor mainly by his Vaylanian accent.
Panic rose to my breast. “What’s wrong?” I wiped my wet cheek. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I began to hyperventilate.
An Adenzhen pushed through the men. His hood had fallen back, revealing sharp ears poking through his brown hair. His scaled tail snaked back and forth. He took one look at me and said, “Take him to the Kosalin. He’s got the bloodheart mark.”
The word ‘bloodheart’ threw me into hysterics, and I plopped on the ground, hands covering my face. I was going to die and there was nothing anybody could do about it, or so I thought.
A gloved hand rested on my shoulder. “Is okay, little Berivor. You gonna be okay.” It was Rindar.
I gazed into his dark face. Where had I seen it before? Something about him calmed my nerves. Maybe it was his deep and gentle voice, or the peace radiating from him like an aura. Maybe it was his familiarity. Whatever it was, I grasped his hand and stopped crying.
A kizhiridor laughed. “Maybe we should give him to Rindar. He has powers.”
The Adenzhen rolled his eyes. “Great Cubons, Klin! What did I say about the Kosalin? Get your tail to that creepy place and call the collection wagon. Rindar, take him to the break room and feed him. He looks too skinny, and a skinny bloodheart gets hungry for children. The rest of you, watch for bloodhearts and beat any back that come. They might be looking for him. This boy isn’t a full bloodheart yet. The vozhars can save him. Get moving!”
