Chapter Thirty-Eight
Rig and Ohma charged into the snow house. Turesobei dove in after them. As he stood, hunched over due to the low ceiling, a wave of revulsion hit him, and he nearly retched. A kagi no bigger than the hounds had pounced onto Kurine and wrapped six suckered tentacles around her arms and two around her waist. An ichor that stank of sulfur and rotting flesh oozed from its pulsing, fanged maw. Each drop that touched the floor melted the ice. Each drop that touched Kurine’s arms melted through her parka and burned her skin. The kagi tried to pull Kurine’s head to its mouth, but she had latched her hands around the beast’s head and was holding it back. Kurine’s arms were shaking as they weakened under its grip. Two of its seven eyestalks whipped around and glared at Turesobei. Another two eyestalks flashed at the hounds.
Turesobei recognized the creature from the Manual of Demon Beasts Most Uncommon — an orugukagi. Information flashed through his conscious mind: fast swimmers — voracious hunger — sensitive to light — tentacles like an octopus — flippers and the long body of a seal — spikes on their suckers causing temporary, localized paralysis — acidic saliva — its bite —
Turesobei drew his knife. “Kurine! Its bite is deadly!”
Tentacles whipped up from a hole in the floor at the back of the snow house, as another beast pulled itself in. The hounds intercepted that beast, while Turesobei lunged toward the one latched onto Kurine. He stabbed the orugukagi in the body, pulled the blade free, and slashed off the two eyestalks that glared at him. But the demon-beast didn’t release Kurine. It gripped her tighter. The beast knew its wounds were temporary, that its eyestalks would grow back. This was why Turesobei so desperately needed his white-steel sword. One slash, and this fiend would have been dead.
Turesobei drew back to stab it again, but another demon-beast burst out from the hole and launched itself through the air, hurtling toward him. He ducked, and the beast flew over his head. But as it passed, a tentacle lashed him across the cheek, scratching deep enough to draw blood.
Kurine screamed. Her arms fell limp. She jerked her head to the side. The orugukagi missed her neck, but bit deep into her shoulder. She moaned and slumped to the ground. The creature that had flown over Turesobei’s head surged toward him, but Lu Bei zipped in through the entrance and sparked it in the face, disorienting it. Turesobei plunged his knife into the head of the orugukagi biting Kurine.
One of the hounds yelped in pain. Lu Bei flashed by Turesobei and sparked the second orugukagi again. Two more beasts crawled out of the hole. Turesobei repeatedly plunged the knife into the head of the beast that had bitten Kurine. Finally, it loosened its grip and relaxed its tentacles, falling away, wounded and confused.
The scuttling and barking of more demons echoed up through the hole. The tunnel wasn’t newly made. It must’ve lain there unused, sealed over by only a thin layer of ice, and they just hadn’t noticed when they’d made the snow house.
The hounds couldn’t fend off three of the beasts. An orugukagi engulfed Rig in its tentacles and bit deep into the hound’s flank. As Rig sank with a whimper, Ohma tore at the beast on her brother, but another orugukagi caught Ohma, as well. That left Turesobei and Lu Bei to face two of them, with more on the way. Lu Bei shot sparks from each hand, trying to keep the orugukagi back. That slowed them only a little.
Turesobei hooked Kurine’s arm over his shoulder and started dragging her away. Tapping a heavy amount of internal kenja, Turesobei chanted the spell of the moon mirrors, hoping to blind the orugukagi. But the poison from the tentacle that had struck him had numbed his cheek. He slurred his words, and the spell failed.
Two more beasts slithered up out of the hole. It was hopeless.
A tentacle latched onto Lu Bei, grabbing him by a wing. Lu Bei hit the ground and shrieked. Lu Bei sparked the creature, but it didn’t let go. Turesobei started toward him.
“Go, master!” Lu Bei yelled. “Get out of here!”
Motekeru burst suddenly into the snow house. With his claws, he tore through the beast grasping Lu Bei. Then he turned his bronze head toward the hounds and the five more orugukagi charging toward them. His hideous, jagged mouth opened, and a gout of flame burst out, engulfing the hounds and the demon-beasts. The heat was so great, Turesobei had to throw up his hand to shield his face. The hounds … the poor hounds …
The ice began to melt around them. Iniru crawled through the snow house entrance. “Do you need —”
Turesobei shoved Kurine toward her. “Pull her out. Fast!”
Iniru took Kurine and pulled her out. Flames still poured from Motekeru’s mouth. With the one wing he could still move shielding him from the heat of the flames, Lu Bei limped toward Turesobei. He grabbed up the fetch and scurried out of the entrance.
With Lu Bei turning into a book in his hands, Turesobei said to the others, “What in Torment took you all so long to …”
Narbenu lay on the ice clutching a limp arm. Blood oozed through a hole in his clothes. Zaiporo sat gasping for air, unharmed. Enashoma knelt beside him, splattered by orugukagi guts. Two orugukagi lay dead, their bodies rent in half by Motekeru’s claws. A giant block of ice, ripped free from the boys’ snow house, plugged a second hole in the ice.
“Oh,” Turesobei responded.
“Kurine!” Kemsu yelled. He slid down next to her and took her hand. “She’s not conscious.”
Iniru pulled Kurine’s hair back, revealing the wound on her shoulder. “Ugh. That’s not good.”
“One of the orugukagi bit her,” Turesobei said, slurring his words. “Their bite …”
“Do something for her,” Kemsu said.
“I can’t. Not now.”
“Sobei,” Enashoma said. “What’s wrong with your voice? You sound drunk.”
He touched the deep scratch that trailed across his cheek from his ear lobe to the edge of his lips. “Paralyzed my cheek. I can’t cast any spells until it wears off. I’ve already tried. We have to get out of here. There are more on the way. Motekeru can’t fight them all. Iniru, Shoma, Kemsu, get the mounts.”
“But Kurine,” Kemsu said.
“I know,” Turesobei told him. “Get the mounts. I’ll stay with her.”
As the others went to get the sonoke, the snow house behind Turesobei collapsed. Melting ice blocks tumbled away as Motekeru surged free, a hound tucked under each arm. Miraculously, they were still alive. And somehow completely unharmed by the flames.
Turesobei helped Narbenu get in the saddle.
“I’ll be fine, lad,” the goronku said. “As soon as I can move my arm again.”
“Hand Kurine up to me,” Kemsu said. “I’ll hold onto her. I can guide the sonoke with my knees well enough.”
Turesobei and Iniru lifted Kurine up and placed her in front of Kemsu, who leaned back as far as he could to make her comfortable and then wrapped his hands around her waist.
“I’ll keep the hounds,” Motekeru said.
Turesobei took Kurine’s mount.
The block of ice plugging the hole outside shifted and resettled. Turesobei tried to cast the spell of the moon mirrors, but again his words slurred, and the spell didn’t go off.
“Sorry, we’re going to have to ride by moonlight.” Unfortunately, there wasn’t much of that.
Zaiporo and Enashoma both took out star stones and tapped them to full strength, holding them out with one hand, protected from their heat by their gloves. Those stones and a dim, waning Zhura was all the light they had. The group raced blindly along the coast. Turesobei kept glancing back toward their former camp with his kenja-sight open. Now that he’d encountered the beasts, he felt certain he could see them coming based solely on the energy currents. He didn’t see anything, but he still thought it best to keep riding.
“I don’t think they’re following, but let’s ride a little further inland to set up camp.”
A half-hour later, they stopped on a small rise.
Iniru took charge. “We make one big snow house, and we all get in i
t and block the entrance. Just in case those things are persistent.”
Narbenu started to complain, but Turesobei interrupted him. “I don’t care about your rules. Not tonight. If you like, we can … hang some blankets to make separate sections. Good enough?”
Narbenu grumbled but nodded. “Given the circumstances.”
Motekeru dismounted and set down the wolfhounds. Both were conscious, but groaning in pain. Turesobei knelt over them. Not a strand of fur was singed. The bites from the orugukagi were puckered and oozing pus but already showed signs of healing.
“Motekeru, are the hounds indestructible?”
“They seem almost like spirit beasts themselves, master. Impervious to many things. I don’t know the full extent of their powers. Chonda Lu hid them away before my time.”
Lu Bei nodded. “Those hounds predate both of us by centuries. Chonda Lu only spoke of them once or twice.”
“Maybe we’ll figure it out one day,” Turesobei said. “Motekeru, when the snow house is finished, you will block us in and guard the mounts.”
Motekeru plunged his claws into the ice to begin cutting a block. “It will be done, master.”
Turesobei checked on Kurine. Kemsu had taken her from the mount and laid her atop some blankets. Turesobei bent down and placed his lips on her forehead.
“Fever has set in,” he lamented.
“How … how long does she have?” Kemsu asked.
Turesobei tried to recall every detail he’d studied about the orugukagi. It turned out that Grandfather Kahenan’s instance on him memorizing beast after beast hadn’t been pointless. “Complete paralysis first, then fever sets in, followed by a coma. Then …” The words choked in his throat. “A day … at the most.” Not again. He couldn’t lose another. “But I can cast spells as soon as my voice returns properly.”
“You can heal her?” Kemsu said with hope.
Turesobei shook his head. “I can delay the poison and counter the effects. There’s no spell that can heal her. All I can do is delay the inevitable for a week … maybe two.” He touched Kurine’s cheek tenderly. “Unless we find a cure somewhere …”
Kemsu shoved him. “This is your fault!”
“How is this my fault?” Turesobei replied. “Did I ask for demons to attack us?”
“She’s your betrothed,” Kemsu snapped. “She’s your responsibility.”
“There was nothing I could do. The beasts popped out from a hole in the ground. I can’t predict the future.”
Kemsu stepped up and got in his face. “Everything you touch gets ruined. I’ve seen it. You dragged your sister to our bleak world and nearly got her and your — girlfriend, whatever Iniru is to you — killed. And your former betrothed is some sort of demon-witch. You come here, and you expect to have Kurine along with Iniru. You accepted Kurine’s kiss without warning her about what being around you means. You came to our village, and you ruined everything. Now you’ve gotten Kurine killed.”
“I think you need to calm down,” Turesobei said.
Kemsu shoved him back again, and threw a punch. With a solid thump, his fist struck Turesobei in the jaw. Turesobei fell hard on the ice, stunned for a moment. As Turesobei stood, Kemsu threw another punch. His fist never reached Turesobei.
A clawed hand caught Kemsu by the forearm. Eyes blazing bright, Motekeru lifted Kemsu off the ground and held him up in the air by his arm. He twisted Kemsu so they could see one another eye-to-eye.
“I can break you, boy,” Motekeru said menacingly.
“You wouldn’t,” Kemsu said, wincing as Motekeru’s grip crushed into his forearm. “And I’m no boy.”
“I have killed hundreds, thousands maybe. What’s one more boy? And you are a boy. I know, because you act like one. And soon, you may be a broken boy.”
The others gathered around, but no one dared say anything. Not even Narbenu would speak up. Lu Bei crawled out of Turesobei’s pack, limping and fussy.
“Do it,” the fetch said. “Mutinous brat deserves it.”
“Master,” Motekeru said, “shall I break him? I would delight in eating the heart out of his chest.”
Everyone looked to Turesobei. Heart pounding, anger searing, he glared at Kemsu. Turesobei wiped the blood from his lip. The storm sigil on his cheek was burning.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“Let him go,” Turesobei said.
Motekeru threw Kemsu at Turesobei’s feet.
Clenching and unclenching his fists, Turesobei loomed over Kemsu. “You have no idea the sacrifices I’ve made for those I love. You have no idea what all of us had to endure to save our world and my people. Do you think that was easy? Do you think such a thing comes without a price?”
Kemsu, shaking, got up. Turesobei grabbed him by the collar. The storm sigil burned even hotter on his cheek now. “Do you really understand what I’m capable of? I don’t need Motekeru. I can consume you myself anytime I wish.”
Enashoma threw herself between them.
“Time to calm down, big brother. We don’t need you to turn into a dragon just to teach Kemsu a lesson.” Turesobei glared at her until she touched his cheek, the one without the Mark of the Storm Dragon. “Sobei, none of what happened was your fault. Kemsu … he’s just upset about Kurine, and he’s a long way from home now, just like we are. We’re all under a lot of pressure. Let it go.”
“Sobei, Kemsu,” Iniru said. “Drop it. You’re not helping anyone. We have to stick together.”
“Fine,” Turesobei sighed. “It’s over. It’s done.”
“I’ll start on the snow house,” Kemsu muttered, and he stalked over to his mount, drew a knife, and knelt on the ice. But he shook so badly that he couldn’t even manage a simple cut. Anger drained out Turesobei. He went over to Kemsu and apologized.
“I’m sorry,” he said simply. What more could he say? It took all he could do to manage that.
“Kurine …” Kemsu whispered. “She’s my … my oldest … friend and … whatever. It’s over.”
“Are we okay now?” Turesobei asked.
“Sure,” Kemsu replied dully. “Whatever.”
Turesobei approached Narbenu. “I’m sorry about that. It was uncalled for.”
“What Kemsu did was uncalled for, as well.” Narbenu shot Kemsu an angry glance. “He did start it, after all. But thank you for apologizing, and for your restraint. The dragon … I saw it, remember? I can’t imagine what you must be holding in.”
“Thank you for understanding,” Turesobei responded.
He sat down beside Kurine. He was thankful she’d hadn’t seen any of that. He’d keep his dignity with someone, at least. She was Kemsu’s oldest friend … when had they stopped being close? When he became a slave? When the goronku rules started making it hard for boys and girls to spend any time together? He had a feeling they’d had a major falling out, but neither of them spoke about it.
Enashoma scolded Lu Bei. “I don’t care if you are hurt and miserable, you should not have encouraged him. Sobei nearly dragoned-out on us.”
“I didn’t encourage Master, my lady,” Lu Bei whined. “I encouraged Motekeru.”
“You needed to defuse the situation,” Enashoma continued. “But you made it worse. Don’t do that again.”
“I’m sorry, Lady Shoma.” Lu Bei bowed. “Forgive me. I’m very protective of Master, is all.”
Enashoma wasn’t finished. She marched over to Motekeru, who was cutting ice, and thumped him on the chest with her forefinger. He stood up, and she faced him, staring into his eyes. “We do not break our companions — or eat their hearts. Even when they do stupid things. You got that?”
The two of them stood face-to-face for several tense moments. Turesobei was prepared to give Motekeru an order immediately, if necessary. Motekeru moved forward … and took Enashoma into a hug.
“You have a good soul,” Motekeru told Enashoma.
She laughed. “Thank you, Motekeru.”
The machine man leaned down and whispered something
to her that Turesobei couldn’t hear. Whatever it was it delighted Enashoma. She kissed him on his bronze cheek.
“We lost some supplies and blankets in our snow house,” Iniru said as she sorted through the gear on the mounts. “Not a lot, but out here, every little thing counts.”
As Turesobei and Narbenu sat with Kurine while everyone else worked on the double-sized snow house, he began to feel embarrassed about what he’d said and done. He sighed and shook his head.
“I really am sorry, Narbenu. I feel like an idiot now. I hope you won’t think less of me.”
Narbenu chuckled. “Aside from Motekeru and the dragon in you, it really wasn’t a big deal.”
“It wasn’t?” Turesobei asked in surprise.
“Hardly the first time two boys got in a fight over a girl,” Narbenu said. “Well, in this case a fight over two girls. These things happen, even when people aren’t under stress. You’re a good lad. Kemsu’s a good lad. Don’t worry about it.”
“I guess … I guess you’re right.”
Turesobei noticed then that his voice was a lot clearer. Adrenaline from the encounter with Kemsu had driven the toxin out of his system. He cast the spell of the moon mirrors successfully, and that made finishing the snow house go a lot faster. Once inside, to placate Narbenu’s rigid standards, they strung two blankets through the middle. But Turesobei started out on the girls’ side so he could tend to Kurine.
“We’ve got to get some of these clothes off her,” he said. “She’s sweating.”
Enashoma removed all but Kurine’s inner shirt and pants. The wound on her shoulder had turned purple and oozed pus that already smelled of decay. Acid had burned the skin all around it, and she had several burns on her arms as well, though those would heal without any problems.
“What do we do now?” Enashoma asked.
“We need to clean the wound and draw out as much poison as we can,” Iniru said. She dipped a cloth in ice water and began washing the wound, holding her head away due to the smell.
Enashoma sponged Kurine’s forehead, then she combed out Kurine’s hair and braided it to the side away from the wound. “Are you sure there’s not a cure?”
Storm Phase Series: Books 1-3 Page 85
