He stopped, and looked at Pehr and Josep, who made no reply.
“Be there to do what?” Nani asked.
Her mother said her name, putting her arm around the girl’s shoulders, but Nani threw it off.
“Be there for what, Jace? To have the chance to kill me yourselves? That’s it, isn’t it?”
Jace swallowed, looking ill, and nodded.
“You coward bastards,” Nani said, her voice tight, her hands clenched into fists so tight that it seemed all of the blood had been driven away, leaving them stark and white.
“Beloved …” Josep began, and Nani whirled to face him.
“Do you think I would let them?!” she cried. “Did you believe even for one second that I would ever let one of those things do that to me? Oh, you stupid, pig-brained fools. You big, brave sons of hunters … so concerned for my well being that you would cut my throat with your own hands. I am daughter to a hunter, and I will die by my own hand before I allow myself to be touched by any of theirs, or by any of yours!”
There was another silence, broken only by Nani’s harsh breathing. She was staring at Josep, who seemed unable to meet her gaze. At last, Jace spoke.
“Oh,” he said, and smiled a little as his sister turned to glare at him. “Well in that case … let’s send her first.”
Pehr snorted, and after a moment a rueful smile flickered across Nani’s face. Josep, however, failed to find the humor. He only sighed, knowing that any hope he might have had of preventing Nani from putting herself in harm’s way was now gone.
“Are we going to do this, or shall I just cut my throat now and be done with it?” she asked.
“I’m ready,” Jace said.
Pehr shrugged and nodded. What choice was there?
“So be it,” said Josep, and his voice had hardened as he locked away his concerns.
Jace was positioned in moments, his mother huddled with him in the hut, looking out at the Lagos who still sat at the edge of arrow range, calling and howling to the diminished group still visible to them. Nani, Pehr, and Josep huddled together momentarily, the two hunters making a grand show of pointing in a direction that Nani had no intention of running. It was a transparent ploy, perhaps, but they were desperate for any edge that could be gained.
There was nothing left to do but execute their plan. Pehr and Josep leapt forward, running toward the group of Lagos, who roared in anticipation, brandishing their terrible weapons. The Lagos with the crippled hand stood in the front, clearly relishing its opportunity for revenge. Then, the group as a whole swung their heads suddenly sideways, following what must have been Nani’s path of escape. One of them broke off immediately and another, after glancing at his friends, also gave chase.
“Two, then,” Josep said, and Pehr grunted an acknowledgment. At least now the numbers were fair. One of the two remaining warriors was the cripple, but it appeared by its stance that it was comfortable fighting with its left hand. The other was at full strength, which would have made it a match for either of them individually, but Pehr and Josep were fighting for their own lives and that of the girl they both loved. Desperation lent Pehr strength and a kind of wild excitement that he had never felt before. Josep called out instructions as they ran.
“Cripple first. I’ll go low, you go high. I’ll roll to the second. Can you take the first?”
“Yes,” Pehr replied, and then there was no more time for discussion. The battle was upon them.
Josep attacked as he'd said, ducking low as the Lagos with the crippled right hand lunged at him, swinging for its knees. The creature was too fast for this and managed to leap before the club connected, so Josep shoved out and up with his left hand. It connected solidly with the Lagos’s chest, catching the thing off guard, and it made a kind of squawking noise as it lashed out with its left hand. Pehr heard Josep snarl an oath and knew his fellow hunter had been hit, but there was no time to worry about it. Josep kicked at the thing’s feet, still moving forward, and managed to knock it off balance.
The crippled Lagos was now fully exposed, falling forward, arms held out to break its fall. Pehr had gone high as instructed and was in a good position to plant his feet. He did so, dropping the club low and swinging it in a two-handed arc upward nearly from his ankle, as a man with an axe might swing to cut the bottom half of a notch into a tree. The club connected squarely with the Lagos’s breastbone, producing not a crunch but rather a horrific crack, like a strong piece of wood snapping suddenly under tremendous pressure. The Lagos shrieked in pain as it continued its fall to the ground, and Pehr raised his club up over his head. He brought it down once, twice, a third time, and the Lagos’s skull shattered, flattening out in a pulpy mass of bone and blood and brain.
There was no time to celebrate his victory. Pehr turned, ready to help Josep, only to see the hunter take a slashing hit to his midsection from the Lagos’s metal blade. Josep screamed and stumbled, dropping to one knee, and Pehr knew that he was too late to help the hunter even as he began to run forward. The Lagos, roaring in triumph, raised the blade over its head to swing down, much as Pehr had done to its companion. The blow would surely split Josep’s skull in two, and Pehr found himself screaming in rage. Not now, not yet, not before they could save Nani!
The blade never fell. Instead there came first the shrieking sound of an arrow in flight, and then the sharp twang of the bowstring caught up to Pehr’s ears. The arrow came out of the night and pierced the meat of the Lagos’s right wrist, throwing its arms backward, and it lost its grip on the blade. For a moment Pehr could do no more than stare. The flames from the village were dying down, and to Jace the Lagos must have seemed merely a dark stain against a darkening backdrop.
Josep, though hurt, fought on like the hunter he was, pulling a stone knife from the sheath on his leg and plunging it into the nearest part of the Lagos’s body, which happened to be its groin.
Pehr found some small satisfaction in the knowledge that – sent from the Gods or not – the Lagos were no more fond of massive trauma to their sex organs than any other creature would be. The monster howled and grabbed between its legs with both hands, spearing itself in the thigh with Jace’s arrowhead in the process. It doubled over in agony, and Pehr leapt forward, pounding it into the ground.
“It’s dead,” Josep said after a moment, and Pehr ceased his attack, drawing in harsh breaths, holding the club at his side. Josep made his way slowly to his feet and looked over at Pehr. His face was a red mask of blood; the crippled Lagos’s claws had struck his forehead and flayed off some of the skin there. His chest, slashed by the second Lagos’s blade, was bleeding thickly.
“How is it?” Pehr asked, still gasping.
Josep grimaced, but said, “A hunter without scars is not really a hunter. That’s what they say.”
Pehr had heard that, too, and he smiled. “Can you run? We must—”
He was cut off by a shrill screaming ringing through the night. It didn’t sound to Pehr’s ears like Nani was in pain, only afraid, but he couldn’t be sure until they reached her. Jace and his mother came running up from out of the shadows.
“I owe you my li—” Josep began.
“Go on!” Jace cried. “We’ll follow. Take the beast if you can, and if not, try to draw it out into the open. I have six arrows left.”
Josep turned and began running in the direction of the scream. Pehr glanced at Jace and nodded, then turned and followed him.
* * *
Nani counted to five and then sprinted forward. She was still young and healthy, fit from years of hard living, and she had always been fast. She knew her only chance for survival was to be faster than she had ever been before. She had no intention of letting go of her men, but she would address that point when they reached the shore. For now, she could only run.
The group of Lagos registered a moment of surprise at her actions – the telegraphing from Pehr and Josep had led them to believe she would break in the opposite direction – and so she gained several lengths before they
reacted. Two of them came loping along behind her, howling madly, and Nani found herself praying that they were not quite so fast as the stories told. She ran, hearing the sound of her own breath over the snarls of the creatures behind her that were slowly gaining.
She did not waste her breath on prayer, but found herself using her thoughts to beseech the Gods, over and over, for some small mercy after all of this terror. She did not know whether the twang of Jace’s bowstring meant that they had heard her plea, but the howl and thud that followed it were most satisfying. The other Lagos paused for only a moment, and Nani risked a glance over her shoulder, but by that time it had already resumed the chase. Jace’s bow sounded again, but they had moved out of range, and the arrow fell just short. Now her only hope was the rock and the safety of the cleft therein.
The Lagos warrior was soon hot on her heels, making noises that sounded to her like laughter. She could feel something in her side that she knew was the beginning of a cramp, and she tried to will it away. Close, now … this was no time to falter. For the first time since all of this had begun, Nani forced herself to fully visualize just what exactly it was that waited for her, should she fall into the creature’s hands. There would be no swift and merciful death for her, only pain and horror and the chance to be left lying, abandoned in agony to live or die as the Gods saw fit.
And if she survived? What would there be for her then? Her village was decimated, most of the men dead. Her husband, cousin and brother already expected to join them. Some small number of women and children might escape with only minor injuries. Perhaps she would be one of those left to care for all the rest, cripples and invalids, their eyes destroyed, ears cut off, faces all but erased. Yes, she might survive the torment, might even end up like old Luce and keep her sight and hearing. Perhaps she could live out her days cleaning merchantmen’s dwellings, pining for those she had lost.
Nani was unwilling to consider that option, and unwilling to let the creature behind her get its chance to perform its despicable ritual of mutilation; she would reach the rock – that Gods-damned rock that had seemed so close when Jace first detailed his plan – or she would take the knife that she had carried with her every day since her eighth birthday, and she would hold it to her chin, and she would fall upon it, driving it up into her skull.
Nani was not sure that she could run much longer, and the Lagos warrior, screeching in anticipation, was only feet behind her. She was making choked coughing noises as her lungs struggled to draw enough air into her body to fuel her burning muscles. It would not be enough merely to reach the rock; she must have the strength to make her way deep inside of the split, lest the creature behind her simply grab her and haul her back out. The only way would be a dangerous, flying leap. If she tried to climb in, she would be overtaken.
She felt the Lagos’s fingertips hook into the cloth of her dress, and for a moment it seemed that it would be the knife after all. Then the thing’s sharp talons tore through the linen fabric, and Nani was free again. She ran directly at the rock, before her at last, and leapt, wrapping her head in her arms and praying for the best. She felt sharp stone scrape her arms and legs, her hips and belly, and she cried out in pain as she landed within the inky, enveloping darkness of the cut in the rock. She hadn’t broken anything, but she knew that if she survived until the morning, she would find cuts and bruises all over her body. Compared to what the Lagos offered her, this seemed a small price to pay.
She was drawing in her first haggard, burning breath of relief when the creature’s clawed hand wrapped around her foot.
The gasp became a shriek of terror, long and wailing, and Nani braced her arms against the rock walls around her, pulling backward with all her might. She felt no give; it was as if a rope had been tied around her ankle and was now being pulled by half a dozen kampri. Soon she would begin to slip, and for a brief, desperate moment, Nani thought of the knife, and wondered if the time hadn't come to use it. She couldn't hold out against this strength long enough for Pehr and Josep to arrive.
But the image of the knife in her mind brought forth another idea. Nani let go of her holds on the rock and leaned forward with a sudden, sharp motion. She felt the loose gravel beneath her rump give way, felt herself sliding forward, forced herself not to panic. She reached down beside her to where the knife had fallen and grabbed at it with such force that it nearly skittered away from her hands and out of reach. Securing her grip, muttering curses at herself under her breath, she lunged forward again and stabbed at the fingers wrapped so tightly around her ankle, working nearly blind.
The creature howled and, at first, only pulled harder, but she stabbed and slashed, screaming in rage and terror and hatred. After a moment more, the Lagos let her go. Nani threw her arms backward, losing her grip on the knife and hearing it clatter somewhere far behind her. She ignored it, planting her hands against the rough stone and shoving with her all her might, wedging herself further and further back. When next the Lagos lunged in to grab at her, his hand fell nearly two feet short of her foot.
Nani found herself laughing now, calling profanities out at the Lagos, taunting it. She was filled with a kind of joyous rage; these creatures had destroyed her village and laid waste to her friends and family, but here at least was some small victory. She possessed the thing that this monster wanted above all else, an unspoilt face and body to rend and tear, and she had denied him his prize. There was a savage thrill to be had there, and Nani enjoyed hearing the Lagos warrior’s frustrated snarls as it attempted to shove itself deep enough into the cleft to regain its grip on her.
How long this lasted, Nani could not have guessed. She lost all track of time, wedged there in the stone, and it might have been minutes or hours that passed. She would have stayed there for the rest of eternity if it had been required of her.
It wasn’t. There was a noise that sounded to Nani like emptying the buckets of fish offal she sometimes gave to their solitary domesticated pig. The Lagos made a horrible groaning noise and slid slowly out of the crack. There was a thud as its body hit the ground, and in a moment more a face she knew appeared dimly, outlined against the sky beyond and dripping with what had to be blood but recognizable nonetheless.
“What kept you?” Nani asked the man who was to be her husband, and then she grinned, and laughed, and began to push forward.
Chapter 8
Pehr saw Nani scramble out of the rock and throw her arms around Josep. The hunter grunted, pulling away instinctively, and she gasped as she saw the large slash running across his chest.
“Oh, my dear, what have they done to you?” she asked, reaching her hands out as if to fix him with her touch. Josep intercepted her fingers and brought them instead to his lips.
“People get hurt in battle, Nani,” he told her.
“Like him,” Pehr said, gesturing toward the Lagos warrior that had so nearly overtaken her. The creature’s guts were lying underneath it in an expanding pool of blood.
“Yes, like him,” Josep agreed. He touched his forehead and winced, and Nani made a noise of sympathy.
“Is it bad?” she asked him.
“It is what it is. Pay it no more mind, Nani.”
“If that is your wish, Josep. I … where is my brother?”
“Here,” said Jace’s voice from the dark, and in a few moments more he and Anna came into view. Thunder rumbled as they walked up, and lightning flashed. The storm that had begun out over the ocean was moving its way inland, and Pehr thought he could hear the soft sighing noise of rain hitting the lagoon. Tiny droplets were beginning to hit his face and shoulders and chest.
“We can’t stay here,” he said, moving away from the Lagos corpse and joining the rest of them.
“No, we must keep moving,” Josep said. “It’s not safe here.”
“They don't seem to be searching for us,” Anna ventured hopefully, and Josep shook his head.
“After they make their final move on the village center – which they may have already –
they will send out parties to sweep for survivors. When that happens, I intend they find only Pehr, and Jace, and myself.”
“I would have Jace take my place in the cave,” Anna said. “Please. I would spare my children.”
“Mother, I will not,” Jace said. “This is the only test I will live to see, and I will not flee from it. I'm my father’s son, and I will honor him by dying as a hunter.”
Anna looked down at the ground, struggling with her emotions, but spoke no more. Nani was looking at them all with an expression of enormous distaste, but she held her peace.
“Let’s go,” Josep said, and he strode off again into the night. The others followed, grouped in a loose bunch with Pehr bringing up the rear.
By the time they reached the ocean, the rain had intensified to a downpour, falling hard enough that is was difficult to hear Josep’s instructions. They moved as quickly as they could. Somewhere behind them there were still many Lagos.
They came eventually to Nethalanhal. The stark grey cliffs, never scaled by man, towered over them, rising straight up into the darkness. Turning, they began to move along its edge toward the lagoon.
“The cave is not easy to get to,” Josep told them. “I don’t know if others have ever found it, but if they did, it must have been long ago. Nani, Mother Anna, you will have to dive, swim, and hold your breath. Can you do these things?”
“We can,” Nani said. She was leaning against the cliff wall, looking off to her left, to the point where the ground sloped, becoming sandy beach, and out past that, at the far edge of the lagoon. The rain continued to fall, and Pehr was glad at least that it was the warm season, and that the storm hadn't come down on them from the cold seas to the north.
“Good,” Josep said. “We will make our way down to the shore, and then climb out on the nearest rock, staying on the side of the cliff wall. From there—”
He never finished his instructions. Through the rain there came a rushing noise, and then a long, curved blade attached to a handle of wood whirled out of the darkness and embedded itself deep in the meat of his left thigh. Josep cried out in agony and Nani let loose a piercing shriek. Pehr turned in time to see one of the Lagos loping in toward the hunter, and then the creature swept its hands downward, talons fully extended. Josep’s left shoulder was rendered in an instant to tatters of flesh and skin.
The Broken God Machine Page 7
