Something Wild This Way Comes

by Autumn Dawn

  "What can I get you and your friend?” The baker, a rather thin, short woman with a ready smile, wiped her hands on her apron. “I've just finished a batch of meat filled buns if you'd like a snack."

  Leo grinned at her. “You know me so well, Elda. We'd like a sack of sweets, too. Some of everything."

  While the baker filled their order, Leo examined the shelf trim. “The carpenters did a wonderful job on these, Elda."

  Elda beamed. “Know it. Charge a fair price, too, for what you get."

  "I thought your son was a carpenter? Couldn't he have done it for you?"

  "Posh.” Elda waved a hand. “His Nilha is keeping him close and busy, what with tending to their twins. It was faster to have the others do it."

  "How is she doing? I hear the birth was easy, for being two of them.” She slanted at look at Andrea, who had to turn away to hide her grin. Apparently Scy hadn't cowed her.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Elda sliding a fat, steaming roll into a bag. “As easy as birth ever is.” Elda handed Leo a pair of bags and told her the cost. “I thought I'd die when I delivered my boys."

  Leo glanced at Andrea, whose loose clothes still hid her condition. “Well, yes. But no one ever has a truly difficult time of it, do they?” She shrugged. “After all, that's why we have symbionts."

  For a moment Elda regarded her with a sharp gaze. “There's a reason if we don't, but if you're hunting for news from me you won't find it, girl. I can understand why you'd care, but it's not my place to speak of it.” She turned and disappeared into the back of the shop.

  Andrea blinked. “Now that was odd. How could she know—"

  Equally stunned, Leo shook her head. “I have no idea. Maybe there's more here than we thought."

  It had begun to rain, and they had to dash through the worsening storm to reach Leo's tree.

  Andrea shook droplets off her hands and went in search of a towel and dry clothes. At least it had let up enough to give them time outdoors. By the time she had finished, Leo had opened the sacks and a bottle of lightly fermented juice. She'd also put on the glass kettle for tea.

  "What do you think Elda meant?” The meat roll was very good, but Andrea's mind wasn't on food. “If you think hard you might find a memory that might have something to do with it."

  Time passed as Leo munched quietly. At last she said, “Nothing comes to mind.” She took a sip of her juice. “However, I'd lay odds that my brother knows something of this. Getting him to tell me might be more of a miracle than I can expect in a lifetime, though.” She traced her lips with the edge of a thumbnail, her eyes unfocused. “We could continue with this line of questioning, however, and see where it leads."

  Stumped for ideas herself, Andrea just nodded. The baby was making her tired and, though she was loath to admit it, a little weak. The daily walks and mental stimulation were good for her, but Leo was going to have to do most of the footwork. Besides, Leo knew these people and she didn't. What help could she possibly be?

  * * * *

  Mathin read his wife's latest letter, then sat in silence before the fire in the banquet hall.

  This might be difficult.

  He took a long drink of his wine, smiling without humor. His wife had a gift for understatement.

  Thought you needed to know....

  Had he? Had he really? He crumpled the edge of the letter in his fist and then tossed it aside. For most of his life he hadn't known about these strangers spawned of his father's madness. No doubt they were content to keep it that way as well. What did his wife think, that the three of them could take up friendly relations as easily as sitting down to dinner? The criminal included?

  His head ached. Massaging the bridge of his nose, he tried to think, plan. He missed his wife. Worry for her clouded his mind. Not one night in five did he sleep well, knowing she was far beyond his reach.

  As soon as she got back he would speak with the medic. He was never going to jeopardize her again, even if it meant giving up the chance of future children.

  * * * *

  As days dragged into weeks, and then months, Andrea's condition began to be noticed. Also noted was her general pallor, her frequent visits to Scy and the ease with which she tired. Subtly, the responses Leo got to her questions began to become even more sympathetic. More than one person asked her outright if Andrea was the reason she asked.

  Surprised at the knowing questions, Leo fumbled a reply and found it expedient to stop asking. So far they'd gotten little in the way of results, anyway. Oddly enough, once she stopped, people began to seek her out. Most who came ended up visiting with Andrea. Often they brought gifts of food or baby clothing, especially once she made it clear that she already loved her child and was looking forward to its birth. “I love my child,” she said rather forcefully to a matron who hinted at pity for her. “How could I not? He's half of me."

  One kindly older man she often saw at the children's play area with his grandchildren as she walked brought her a book one day.

  "It's very lovely, and thoughtful of you,” Andrea said warmly to him as she caressed the beautifully bound history. “But I have to confess, I can't read."

  "I'll teach you,” he said simply, and set about it.

  One by one the Ronin won Andrea's heart with their concern and simple kindness. Soon she began to feel guilty at their sweet but misguided help.

  Scy laughed at her. “Don't. Trust me, they get plenty of entertainment in return. The mystery of what happened to you and whether you ever had a husband or if he's just a ruse to hide what happened to you is driving them crazy.” He shrugged at her frown of rebuke. “All right, so some of them genuinely care. You'll have to excuse my skepticism. I've been fielding more than my share of questions lately."

  Sometimes her guests would speak of the distant war. Everyone was concerned about the battle with the Beasts over the towns beyond the swamp. Their own settlement was well away from the borders and thus insulated from the fighting, since the Beasts showed no inclination to enter its borders. Whatever they wanted, it was contained within the boundaries of the towns.

  When Andrea asked Leo privately what these Beasts looked like, Leo withdrew a sketchbook from her things. She smiled as her thumb traced over the worn edges. “My passion.” A touch of wickedness crept into her smile as she handed the book over. “I do a lot more in the swamps than chase snakes."

  Practically falling apart, the book fell open in Andrea's lap to a drawing that looked all too familiar. She gasped. “This is the carving in the stone at the pass to Mathin's citadel!"

  "And a challenging thing it was to get near enough to see it without attracting attention,” Leo agreed. “Those blasted Haunt can see in the dark. Took me a week of sneaking in the daylight to get there. Even so, it was one of the easier sites to get to."

  Andrea met her eyes, sudden knowledge at Leo's self-appointed work filling her with intense interest. “Your brother has no clue, does he?"

  "No one does, save you."

  The pictures within fascinated Andrea. Each rendering of the animal-headed men and women was very detailed and accompanied by the artist's thoughts. Many of the pictures had words in hieroglyphics inscribed above or around them. “These look like pictures of Egyptian gods,” she said slowly, troubled. “Even the way they are dressed reminds me of pictures I've seen from the tombs of the Pharaohs ... How old are these?” And wouldn't Mathin love to see a copy of these. Maybe she could bribe Leo into making one.

  "Thousands of years,” Leo slid next to her on her couch, excitement in every line of her body. “These gods, who were they?"

  Andrea slowly shook her head. “The ancient Egyptians worshipped them. I know their head god was Ra, the sun god. I don't know much more than that.” Their eyes met. “Do you think ... these must be people who've crossed over from world to world, and maybe—"

  "—they're not really beasts,” Leo finished for her. Her eyes lit up. “Maybe they're people like us, hiding under armor or something.
” She jumped up, unable to contain herself. “The bodies, I'm told, always deteriorate before we can examine them, along with their body armor. Anyone who tries to examine their weapons usually gets blown to powder, so they are destroyed, and I've found no grave sites to excavate to see what their bodies look like."

  "But Scy hinted that a woman had a Beast baby.” Andrea stood, too nervous and excited now to sit. “I think we need to have another talk with him."

  * * * *

  It was a very short talk.

  "You wouldn't know the girl from any other.” Scy slammed a fresh cartridge in his energy rifle. He was going hunting again. He'd been doing a lot of that. “Neither would her mother appreciate questions."

  "I wasn't going to ask her any,” Leo protested. “Scy.... “When he continued to ignore her, she placed her body right in front of him. “This is very important to me."

  A light like golden foxfire hazed his blue eyes. His body began to tremble. “Do not,” his voice was hoarse and he couldn't seem to tear his eyes from Leo's mouth. “Do not get so close to me, woman, unless you want to get close to me.” His nostrils flared as her eyes widened. “I've long run out of herbs, and you're provoking far more than my temper.” He brushed past her.

  "I'm not afraid of you!” she yelled to his back.

  "No,” he snarled over his shoulder as he opened his front door. “You're terrified."

  The door slammed, making both women jump. Andrea placed a hand on her heart. “That man is definitely Mathin's brother.” She noted Leo's shaken appearance and tried to offer comfort. “At least we know that these Beasts must be human, or close to. How else could they produce offspring that looked like us?"

  "Yes.” Leo rubbed her arm. “I think I need to take a walk. I have some thinking to do."

  Certain she knew about what, Andrea kept her mouth shut and headed back to the tree. The last few weeks had elevated the tension between Scy and Leo. Andrea knew the only cure for what ailed them, but wasn't sure that Leo was ready to accept the diagnosis. Tempting as it was to lock them both in a room with a very large bed and throw away the key, Andrea knew that they'd have to work out their own differences.

  A blush and a guilty grin stole over her face as her mind flashed a picture at her of what that would look like. It had to be the long separation from Mathin getting to her.

  She placed a hand on her back as she ascended the mushrooms to the tree house. Hard to believe that it was almost time for the birth. Two weeks until D-day, and then she could finally go home. Mathin's letters were getting even more maudlin. The rainy season had passed, but due to her condition they didn't dare remove her from Scy's care. Nor had he been able to visit her. Assassins lurked in the woods around the citadel, and more than one raid had been carried out against his people. They needed him, and honor wouldn't let him abandon them.

  Not that his letters didn't contain his pithy opinions on the dubious joys of lordship.

  With a weary sigh, Andrea lay down on her bed and tried to get comfortable. It was almost to the point where she needed a forklift to roll over. At least it was almost over.

  She closed her eyes, half-asleep already.

  A noise came from the Leo's room. She froze. The front door had not opened. Whoever that was, it wasn't Leo.

  * * * *

  Leo's feet carried her past the other houses until she reached the privacy on the outskirts of the swamp. It had been months since she'd been able to explore the ruins in the swamp, and she was restless. Tonight the restlessness had a new edge. Tonight she thought of Scy. Felt him, actually.

  She sighed and ran a shaky hand over her biceps. She knew what her body wanted, knew what Scy wanted. The ache between them had become a live thing, and denying it any longer was foolish. It would be so easy to let her body rule this one time.

  But what about her heart? Could she promise him forever? Would he object to her exploration in the swamp, or would he join her? The idea of his companionship as she showed him the remnants of lost civilizations lit her up inside. Could it be done?

  Resolved to speak to him, she turned to go back into town.

  Behind her, a twig snapped. Heart racing, she spun about. “Scy?"

  * * * *

  Mathin's head snapped up as a Ronin, his clothes covered in blood, was escorted into his hall. He left off his study of the maps around the citadel and strode toward him, meeting him halfway. “What happened?” His heart pounded, dreading the answer. If anything had happened to his wife, he'd never forgive himself.

  "The army camped out in your woods tried to stop me.” The man wiped gore from the already healing cut over his eye. “Jackson sends word. His sister and your wife have been taken by Haunt, we suspect by someone connected with your cousin. We know it was Haunt blood we found at the site where Leo was taken—the Symbionts won't touch it."

  "And my wife?” Only the fury in his veins held horror at bay. “What about her?"

  "There was no blood in Leo's house, nor much sign of a struggle.” The man's face, oddly familiar, softened. “She was very pregnant, and couldn't have fought for fear of harming the baby."

  Iron purpose infused Mathin with strength. “Give me five minutes to collect my gear and my stag, and I'll—"

  The Ronin shook his head. “You'll never make it in time. Jackson is already tracking them, and my symbiont won't carry you. If you really want to go, we can hitch a hover platform to the back of my cycle and I can try to tow you past the assassins. It might be the only way."

  Raziel didn't say a word as he followed Mathin to collect his gear, but Mathin knew that he had his full support. No one took a Haunt's woman and lived to brag of it.

  Mathin gripped his shoulder as he came to the door where his friend stood, silent and watchful. “Your word is as my word, my friend. Take care of my people, and if I don't come back...."

  "Happy hunting.” Raziel wouldn't let him say it. “Gut the fool who took her."

  Moved, Mathin clasped him the arm, gave him a nearly bruising squeeze. “Never doubt it."

  Minutes latter, lying flat on a body-sized anti-gravity platform with hastily rigged ropes for his hands, Mathin gave a sharp nod. He would be virtually defenseless as they sped by the Haunt in the woods, but at least he presented a difficult target. He only prayed that his wife was not being hurt.

  The cycle eased out of the gate, gathering speed as it headed up the road through the village. Naked fields flashed by as the woods edged closer.

  "Hang on!” the Ronin tossed over his shoulder, and suddenly they were flying.

  Eyes narrowed against the wind and flying insects, Mathin felt the rope bite into his wrists where he'd looped it. He held on as best he could with the toes of his boots against the edge of the platform as the cycle began a series of fast maneuvers around the trees that blurred past. The slight lip on the edges wouldn't prevent him from flying off on one of the turns if he wasn't careful.

  As if to prove his point, the platform took a sharp dip, then leveled with a jarring thud before fish-tailing alarmingly. “Watch it up there!” he shouted, raising his head to glare at the crazy driver. Eyes tearing from the wind, hair tugged by its greedy fingers, he swore as the platform bounced. He'd kill this man! That opinion changed as he got a glimpse of what all the fuss was about.

  Ranged on every side, dark waves of Haunt filled the woods. Silent shadows, some fired on them as they sped past. Seriously tempting death, the Ronin never slowed, banking around trees and crashing through lesser brush with a skill that filled Mathin with grudging respect.

  The man could ride.

  A blue beam of light slashed through the forest gloom and hit the Ronin on the arm. He cursed and the symbiont cycle wobbled, but didn't slow. Mathin's respect for the man doubled. It had been a wicked hit, and had to hurt, but he stayed the course. It reminded him of why the Symbionts had proved to be such powerful opponents during the Symbiont Wars.

  A wry smile tugged up a corner of his lips. He wondered what the Symbion
ts called it. The Haunt Conflict?

  All humor evaporated as another lucky shot glanced of the edge of the platform, frying his right wrist and singeing the rope to a thread. Agony shot through him as he forced his hand into a claw and gripped the corner of the platform. If he fell off now, the Haunt would make certain he never got up.

  Andrea could die.

  At last they broke through the enemy ranks, gliding smoothly over a river and up the gravel bank on the opposite side. The Ronin put a good quarter hour between them and the enemy Haunt before he slowed to a brief stop. “You going to live?” he asked as he dismounted to check Mathin out. His Symbiont was wrapped around his injury, already healing it.

  Mathin slid his chaffed wrist out of the rope loop and flexed it. “Yes."

  The Ronin eyed Mathin's blackened wrist. “Was that your fighting hand?"

  The smile Mathin gave him was grim. “Don't worry. Either hand works for me. I can still kill the scab who took my wife."

  "Good.” The Ronin took a length of rope from his cycle and fastened another loop handle to the platform. “Let's ride."

  They traveled for hours, to the very edge of the swamp and an hour into it. By the time they began to slow the light was growing poor enough to trouble human eyes, but the Ronin didn't seem hampered as he dismounted and rummaged in his gear. “Here.” He withdrew some flatbread, dried meat, fruit and nuts and gave Mathin a share. “We need to eat.” He took a long drink from a canteen and then passed it over.

  Mathin gratefully took a long swallow, wiping his mouth with the back of his good hand when he was done. “And then?"

  There was a short silence as the Ronin tore off a strip of jerky with his teeth and chewed. “It looks like the kidnapper was joined by others, then took a boat downstream. There is a ruin nearby that makes a very logical rest stop. Since we aren't sure how many there are, Jackson surrounded the area with our men in a loose ring. A Haunt could slip through, but not carrying the women.” His smile was humorless. “He thought an agreeable Haunt with night senses could be an asset for taking out any sentries as we moved in."