Blood Rain

by Nancy Gray

  The village sprawled out around them like a spider’s web made of vine bridges, and the canopy of the trees below made the entire treetop village blend in just as easily. That was exactly as Mercy’s people preferred to keep it. Some of the structures were made of the same type of wood as the tree that they were built on, usually a light shade of green or blue wood stained to a shine with resin.

  The center of the village was comprised of a wide, round bridge beneath the canopy of the largest of the giant mushrooms; the highest point in the village. This was where the vitulae and their larvae were kept. The giant insects were about the size of a horse when they were full grown and acted as mounts as well as the village’s source of livelihood. Mercy’s people used them for everything from food to body armor. They were kept in the center of the city as a reminder of their importance. Every now and again, Mercy could hear her own vitula among them. Nightsong’s voice was unique. His chirruping sounds always seemed just a little deeper than the other vitulae.

  Hearing him made her wish she was riding him, if nothing more than for a swift glide around the village. That would have to wait until the morning. The Blood Wings would find a lone vitula rider to be a vulnerable target. While Mercy was more than capable of defending herself, it wasn’t worth the risk.

  Mender of Spirits sat down on the closest bench with a grateful sigh to be off of her feet. “Now, what’s bothering you, Mind of Mercy?”

  Mercy walked over to the railing of the round bridge and leaned down, looking in the direction of the vitulae. Today, it was actually difficult to hear Mender of Spirits above the loud chirping of the insects, the bustling nest hands keeping them, and the people gossiping about the storm. At least that meant she definitely wouldn’t be heard.

  Mercy felt her hand gripping the railing a bit too hard as she said, “He’s still angry with me about begging for the lives of those thieves. I think he wanted to use them as an example, to show everyone that we aren’t a tribe to be trifled with.”

  “I think the penalty was too harsh as well. Your gift of empathy is very valuable. Compassion is a good asset in a future shaman, but people often take advantage of those who are too sympathetic. I think he believed the way you pleaded for them made you seem weak.”

  “I can’t help it. I probably should’ve let him kill those desert bandits, but I could feel all of their fear, as much as their guilt. Besides, they felt ashamed.”

  “Emotions are fleeting, and you need to learn to control your own before you try to read the feelings of others.”

  Mercy cast a withering stare at her mentor, but didn’t say anything. For a moment, she wanted to leap down from their perch on the mushroom onto the catwalk below, but instead she just sighed, walking over and sitting down at the far end of the bench next to Mender of Spirits, not looking at her.

  Mender of Spirits sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like he did.”

  Mercy looked in the direction of the chieftain’s hall. It was the largest building, but only marginally, built into the branches of the tallest tree in their section of the forest. There were brightly dyed banners of vitula silk along the outside that were just as gaudy as the clothing the chieftain tended to wear. The chieftain’s hall was where the most important people of the village gathered to discuss problems with diplomacy with the other cultures, security issues for the village, and the war with the bat-like Blood Wings that frequently attacked at night.

  Since it was such an important structure, most of the chieftains of the past decided to keep the building large enough to be accommodating but made sure that it didn’t stand out so that their enemies wouldn’t know to attack it; but not the current chieftain. “Catches the Eye” personally hung the banners himself, each one supposedly meant to represent one of the other cultures that they needed to impress. It sickened her.

  Her teacher followed her glance and said, “I know. I feel the same way. He tries too hard to impress the others. He wants us to appear cultured to them, potential allies rather than potential slaves.”

  “I know what he’s trying to do, but I still think it’s foolish. We’re not like other tribes. We don’t need to impress anyone. We are who we are.”

  “Mercy, are we still talking about the village, or are you referring to yourself?”

  Mercy got up and began to pace. Ever since the chieftain appeared in the hospital, she couldn’t get him off of her mind. Mender of Spirits was right. She needed to talk about it.

  “I’m sorry, but everywhere I look I see people who have earned their parents’ approval. Everyone holds me to a higher standard because of who my father is, but he won’t even glance at me. He doesn’t acknowledge any of my achievements, yet everything I do wrong makes me a disappointment.”

  “Don’t worry, Mercy. One day he’ll acknowledge you. When he does, your status will improve and you’ll be considered his heir.”

  Mercy ran her hands through her auburn hair in frustration as she sat back down next to her teacher.

  “I don’t want to be the new chieftain, Mender. I just want him to stop treating me worse than everyone else in the village. If it wasn’t for my gift, I wouldn’t have even been given the chance to be your apprentice, but I think he thinks my gift is worthless.”

  Mender of Spirits said, “There are worse gifts to have, Mercy. At least you weren’t born a shape-shifter.”

  “Yes, but if he makes you take another apprentice, the only options for me will be tending the vitula stables, cleaning the village, or settling down to become someone’s wife. I won’t get to use my talents anymore or make any difference at all.”

  “He only judges you harshly because he compares you to the dead. It’s a very cruel thing to do. You can never be your half-brother, and you shouldn’t try. He died because he was reckless, not brave.”

  Mercy glanced in the direction of the orphan’s hut. It felt like so long ago that she and Pack Leader played together as children. Even though her brother earned her father’s approval before she did, she never felt bitter about it. She could almost see them playing together again, running up and down the bridges and pretending to fight off the Blood Wings.

  “I wish Pack Leader was still alive, though. He would be a better heir. There are so many people that I wish were still alive.”

  “I know, Mercy. I miss them, too. You and Wind Runner would’ve been a good match.”

  Mercy glanced down at her ankle and rubbed the spot where her engagement tattoo used to be. The perfect circle that encircled her foot like an ankle bracelet had been marred, crafted into a circle of thorns. It was symbolic of the pain she felt when she lost him, and the fact his life and his dream were choked away before his time.

  Mercy looked at Mender of Spirits and smiled. “Someone wise once told me that for every lost dream there’s always a new one waiting. I’m very grateful that you took me in to show me how to be a shaman.”

  “You’ll make a wonderful shaman one day. Shamans make the best chieftains. You’ll be able to best anyone in a battle of wits just like your father. But, you’ll lead far more effectively, I think.”

  “Thank you.”

  Mender of Spirits took out some vitula silk and began to weave the material into bandages. Mercy helped her. They would need as many bandages as they could get, especially if there was another raid. Usually there would only be one raid every few weeks, but the bat-like Blood Wings hadn’t taken anything, which meant they might be back the next evening or later in the week. She hoped that there wouldn’t be another raid that evening. Their tactics were unusual this time and she wasn’t really sure what to expect. Mercy noticed Mender of Spirits’ fingers stopped working on the bandages as she looked in the direction of the approaching storm clouds. She felt the worry creeping into her mentor’s emotions once again.

  “Teacher, what’s wrong?”

  “You can always tell when one of my visions is bothering me. Thank you for not asking too much about it in the hospital. I didn’t want to mention
it in front of the wounded.”

  Mercy tensed, but tried not to appear worried. While Mender of Spirits rarely had visions, whenever she did, they were always bad, and almost always accurate.

  Her teacher continued, “The beast men are going to attack us on the night of the storm, and it’ll be the worst raid that we’ve ever experienced.”

  “How bad?”

  Mender of Spirits shivered. “Bad. We’re going to lose over a hundred people if this vision goes unaltered.”

  “Shouldn’t we warn the others?”

  “The chieftain will warn the warriors after I tell him this evening. He has a way of smoothing things over and exuding calmness under pressure. He’ll tell the others little by little. By tomorrow evening everyone will know and be ready.

  Mercy nodded. “If there’s anything he is, it’s charismatic. Hopefully, he’ll make everyone feel confident about the raid, but not overconfident.”

  “Despite how you might feel about him, we’re better off with him than with Green Arrow as chieftain.”

  “Yes. I’d much rather keep things as they are now than to suffer under that arrogant spore. I think the first thing Green Arrow would do would be to force me into marrying him.”

  Mercy glanced at the tattoo on her ankle again.

  Mender of Spirits followed her gaze and said, “Don’t worry. It will never happen. Your father isn’t a fool, and he’s already proven he can best Green Arrow at any challenge.”

  “But it’s only a matter of time before he does something wrong and someone takes his place.”

  “No, he’s too clever for that, too. After all, his name can be interpreted as ‘Shows the Lie.’ His whole outward appearance is a lie, meant to put others at ease. Even the way he acts around foreigners has a purpose. If the Ashen Folk believe that our chieftain is a fool then they’ll underestimate us in battle, should they ever decide to attack.”

  “I know we can’t trust them, but I’m not sure which is worse, the thought of them conquering us or thinking we’re so stupid that we aren’t worth the effort.”

  “Bite down your tongue, Mercy! You know very well that we don’t want to be overtaken by the Ashen Folk.”

  Mercy looked at the blue wood beneath her feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

  “Still, I don’t see the resemblance between you and the chieftain at all. You’re humble and compassionate. He’s a self-serving schemer with an ego as bloated as his stomach. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that our chieftain was overtaken by a Mind Spore long ago and is just trying to fit into our society to spread the infection.”

  Mercy laughed. “No. We would know if he was infected with a Mind Spore. He would suddenly start acting polite. He’d wear practical clothing instead of that array of gaudy scarves, coats, and hats. He also wouldn’t eat as much as a vitula and would lose that pregnant looking stomach.”

  Mender of Spirits smirked. “Do you know where any Mind Spore Fungi are growing? The change might be worth the risk.”

  “No, but I’ll keep it in mind if I do.” Mercy became serious. “Will you please tell me what the chieftain says about your vision?”

  Mender of Spirits said, “Meet me here tomorrow at sundown, and I’ll tell you everything I know.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you for the lesson in healing, and for the talk.”

  Mender of Spirits smiled. “Anytime, Mind of Mercy.”

  Mercy ran across the catwalk towards the orphan’s quarters and ran directly into Green Arrow. He was much taller than she was with dark tan skin, and his black hair had a green sheen to it when it caught the light, like the feathers of an exotic jungle bird. He was handsome, but he also knew it, and that arrogance carried over when he talked to any woman. Green Arrow always seemed to think that every woman in the village was attracted to him, and the fact Mercy wasn’t, made her a challenge. He looked her up and down and smiled at her in a way that made her want to punch him.

  Green Arrow grinned down at her. “Stealer of Secrets, this is an honor.”

  “That I nearly knocked you off of the catwalk? Well, if that’s such a great honor, I’ll be sure to hit you harder next time.”

  “Just as hot-headed as ever, I see. Your personality is as fiery as your hair.”

  “And you’re just as annoying and persistent as ever.”

  He frowned. “I won’t be satisfied until you’re mine, you know. The chief doesn’t believe me worthy of choosing a bride yet, but when I am, it’ll be you.”

  “There’s nothing you could say or do to make me agree to that.”

  “We’ll just see about that. Are you sure that you won’t consider my original deal? It would guarantee you status if something happens to Mender of Spirits before she’s done training you.”

  “Nothing is going to happen to Mender of Spirits, and if it does, I’m good with the vitulae. I can live with working in their stables.”

  Mercy tried to move past him, but he took a step in her way and edged a little closer. She had to look up to see his face, but she continued to glare defiantly into his eyes.

  Green Arrow asked, “Are you still so in love with the dead that you aren’t willing to live on? Wind Runner is never coming back, but I’m here right now.”

  Mercy snapped, “Don’t you dare talk about him that way. He was brave, and you’re a coward. If you had stayed with them instead of running back to the village with your tail between your legs, maybe he and bro…Pack leader would still be alive. Stay away from me.”

  “And, if I don’t?”

  Mercy grabbed the ropes on the right side of the catwalk and flung herself around Green Arrow. If there was anything she was afraid of, it certainly wasn’t heights. The catwalk shifted dangerously to the right for one moment, and she felt a sickening fear emanating from Green Arrow. Despite what she said to him she didn’t really want him to fall. As she landed, she grabbed him by his fur tunic and shoved him down to a crouch, allowing them both to regain their balance as they waited for the catwalk to stop swinging.

  Green Arrow stared at her in bewildered shock.

  She laughed at the stupid expression on his face. “If you don’t, I’ll just go over your head.”

  Mercy walked to the orphan’s quarters and decided to rest on the outside hammock instead of her straw mattress, staring at the stars. It had been a long day and she wanted to be alone with her thoughts, but it seemed she wouldn’t have the chance as she felt a familiar presence lingering in the doorway to the balcony. The emotions he exuded were a mixture of anger, disappointment, and his usual pompous feelings of self-importance.

  Mercy didn’t move from the hammock as she asked, “Chieftain, to what do I owe the honor?”

  The chieftain was scowling at her. Since she was no longer in an emergency situation, she took in the ridiculous look of his clothing. It was difficult not to laugh. He was wearing a silken shirt, a hat with a small brim and rounded top, a long cut leather and fur coat, a brightly colored scarf, and some gray woolen pants that looked like the sort of fashion worn by the Ashen People.

  The Chieftain said, “Stealer of Secrets, Green Arrow tells me that you nearly killed him today.”

  “If you’re referring to the incident on the rope bridge, all I did was solve a problem. He wouldn’t move out of my way, so I went around him.”

  “He’s an important warrior, and you could’ve made him fall into the canopy, not to mention you could’ve fallen yourself.”

  Mercy snapped, “I suppose he failed to mention that I made sure he wasn’t going to fall.”

  The chieftain said, “It doesn’t matter. You were being reckless.”

  “It runs in the family.”

  Mercy felt a flash of anger from him like a sudden bright lightning bolt from an overcast sky. She knew she had gone too far, but she felt too frustrated to take it back. Instead, she turned away from him onto her side and was silent until she felt his anger slowly subside.

  The chieftain sighed. “I s
incerely hope not. Stealer of Secrets, did it occur to you that I don’t want you to die? That maybe having one of my children die is enough?”

  “You’ve yet to acknowledge me as your own, Chieftain.”

  “That’s about to change.”

  Mercy felt a chill run down her spine, and her heart began to race.

  But she turned in his direction, stared at him blankly, and said, “You’ve told me that before.”

  “No, before I said that I would acknowledge you in time. I want you to go on your rite of passage, and I want you to do it tomorrow.”

  Mercy thought about Mender of Spirit’s vision and frowned. “Tomorrow? Please, may I have more time? I’ve planned for it, but I’ll need to gather supplies and get ready.”

  The chieftain shook his head and said, “I have something special planned for you. Something I think that only you can accomplish.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Tomorrow, I’m going to send you to find some information. Find out what I need to know, and I promise you things will be different. I’ll acknowledge you in front of the entire village as my heir and my daughter.”

  “What sort of information?”

  The chieftain made a motion with his hand for her to be silent and said, “It isn’t safe to talk about it here. Go about your duties as you normally would tomorrow and then meet me after you talk with Mender of Spirits. Don’t mention this to anyone.”

  “I still don’t understand, but I’ll do as you say.”

  “I knew I could count on you. In the meantime, get as much sleep as you can. You’ll need it.”

  She wasn’t sleepy, but if her father had some sort of difficult task in mind she would at least have to try to relax. That way, she could get up early and perform her duties and still have the energy to go on a long ride on Nightsong when she had a break.