The Huntresses' Game

by Joe Jackson

  Alamarise was waiting for them in the great hall, already saddled and ready to go. The double leather seat was affixed to the base of his long, sinuous neck, and Kari could see at just the first glance that what he’d said the night before was true. While flying into battle on the back of a dragon was imposing and impressive in any situation, there was no way for a warrior to fight effectively from that position on a mount of Alamarise’s size, and the likelihood that a dragon needed the guidance and direction of a person when fully grown seemed negligible.

  “Come, my friends, climb up and we shall be off. It will take us some time to reach the lands of the kwarrasti, but I suspect we can arrive there by the evening,” the great dragon said, and he laid down and curled his neck to make it easier for them to mount up.

  “By evening…?” Kari muttered. Emerald City was a long way from the badlands; for Alamarise to carry them that far in a day meant he would be flying at incredible speeds.

  Kari helped Aeligos into his seat first, and they got him strapped in. There were safety harnesses and belts to keep them firmly seated. Aeligos helped Kari get strapped in when she sat in front of him, and then Alamarise’s great head curled around to look at them. “Take care not to spread your wings when I am in flight, lest you be torn from your seat or, at the least, severely injured. I do hope you have dressed warmly enough.”

  With that, the double doors of the castle swung open, and the massive dragon got to his feet and padded out onto the cloud. Kari was tempted to ask him how he had made it so they could walk on the clouds, but that would require sitting and talking. They were working against time, so she kept her questions to herself. There would be plenty of time for such questions once Annabelle and Zaliskower were defeated.

  Alamarise fell through the cloud without warning, and Kari’s stomach jumped up into her throat. It was all she could do to keep her breakfast down as they plummeted and the dragon gained considerable speed from the dive. He leveled out and gave a few deafening flaps of his expansive wings. It took Kari a few minutes to get used to breathing the lighter, fast-moving air, but Alamarise continued to lose altitude, and brought them down to a more suitable level of the atmosphere. Kari wrapped her cloak about her, and a glance over her shoulder showed Aeligos was probably even more affected by the cold.

  The ground below raced by at dizzying speed. The forests whipping past gave a physical gauge of just how fast they were traveling, and they dropped away, turning to plains after several hours. Kari was hungry, and she needed to stop and take a break, but she kept her mouth closed. They were concerned with speed first and foremost, and she didn’t want to interrupt the dragon in flight.

  Fortunately, he expected they would need to stop, and he landed near a river to take a drink himself. Kari and Aeligos were able to have lunch and take care of everything else, and soon they were back in flight. It was a little more difficult for Alamarise to take flight from the ground, but once he was airborne, he picked up speed quickly with his powerful wings. Even before the sun began to set, the plains gave way to the rockier, more arid place generally called the Badlands.

  The dragon gained altitude again, and took them high enough that they could see much farther into the Badlands. “See the green on the horizon there?” he called back to them, his deep, powerful voice strong enough to outdo the rush of wind. “That is the Valley of the Luranar. We are not headed that far south, but I will bank now toward the west, and bring you to the home of the kwarrasti. Please be aware that you should not dismount until they have come to inspect you. I am recognized as friendly to their people, but you will require an introduction.”

  They reached the kwarrasti lands a short while later, and the great silver dragon landed on the edge of an expansive camp. The kwarrasti were nomadic, so they lived in easily-collapsed tents and teepees, not unlike the czarikk or even the mallasti. The dragon drew a great deal of interest from the cat-folk, which only multiplied when they saw that he had passengers. A handful of hunters approached, and it was not lost on Kari that they were all female.

  “Greetings, noble kwarrasti. I bring you guests: Lady Karian Vanador and her brother-in-law, Aeligos Tesconis,” Alamarise said amicably. He laid down and allowed the hunters to come touch him on his snout.

  “Approach,” one of the hunters commanded, gesturing for Kari to dismount.

  The demonhunter did as instructed, and stood at attention before the female kwarrasti. The variety among the catfolk was astounding, some of them resembling the great cats of the wild, while others had features more like what Kari would call, for lack of a better term, more housecat-like. The woman who addressed her was a pleasant tannish color, with lighter tones across her chin and belly. She wore a hunter’s outfit in similar colors, the better to camouflage when out on patrol, but it showed off her arms and legs and the banded, ticked fur upon them, as well as her tail. Her eyes were a deep green, full of intensity, but also wonder at the presence of the dragon.

  What was truly fascinating about this huntress, however, was her companion: a massive black panther that regarded the guests with wise green eyes. If Kari didn’t know better, she might have suspected that the black cat was a shape-changed druid.

  “Karian Vanador, Hand of Zalkar, by his grace,” she introduced herself.

  The kwarrasti hunter looked at her sideways. “You wear no tags to identify yourself? This is most unusual for one of your hunters.”

  “They were stolen from me by a vampire,” Kari explained.

  The cat-woman simply stared at her. Soon moments turned into a minute, and Kari wondered what she was thinking. “I see. The queen will no doubt wish to speak with you if you have come among us during a hunt. I am Rhiannon al’Morinh, First Huntress of the Queen’s Royal Guard. My companion is Lindi.”

  “Rhiannon?” Kari repeated. “The same one who traveled with Danilynn Stahlorr, Elias Sorivar, Tormaar, and Jori-an Stormrider?”

  “Indeed. Have they all broken their vows to Jason Bosimar, then?”

  “Not exactly, but it’s a long story.”

  “One that can wait until you have met the Queen, then,” Rhiannon said.

  “They are not here to see your queen, First Huntress,” Alamarise said, the booming of his voice drawing even more attention. “They are here to see the Oracle.”

  That finally cracked the serious yet impassive gaze of the kwarrasti hunter. “The Oracle? Then you are here on account of something dire. Very well, come then. I will take you to the Oracle, and we shall see if she has something to say to you.”

  The First Huntress turned to lead Kari further into the camp, but she waited until Aeligos dismounted and followed. The other kwarrasti stayed near the dragon. Some seemed amazed at the massive creature, while others acted as though they had seen him before. The black panther took a minute to sniff Aeligos, and the rogue made no move while the cat inspected him. Soon enough, Lindi returned to her mistress’ side, and once Aeligos came up beside Kari, she hurried to catch up with Rhiannon.

  “The Oracle, is it a person or is it a spirit?” Kari asked.

  “That is the subject of much debate even among our people,” the huntress said with a touch of humor in her expression. “While she is kwarrasti in appearance, she is venerated as a spirit among our people. This is a rare and nearly unprecedented honor: for one among the living to be revered as a spirit like our ancestors. But it has long been known that she possesses the second sight, and that she acts as a conduit for the wisdom of the ancients.”

  “Second sight?” Aeligos asked, and he nudged Kari. “I wonder if she’s empathic or telepathic, like Sonja.”

  Rhiannon glanced at him over her shoulder. “No, much more than that.”

  “I’ve heard of an oracle or two in my lifetimes,” Kari said to Aeligos more than their kwarrasti liaison. “Always figured they were fakes. I’ve always been suspicious of things like prophecy and fortune-telling.”

  Rhiannon stopped and turned around quickly. She didn’t look angry, but the
intensity in her eyes bore into Kari with a smoldering impatience. “What the Oracle does is neither fortune-telling nor any sort of sideshow, as my old companion Eli would have said. She is a direct link to the spirit realm, and if she has something to say to you, you would do well to consider her words before you take action.”

  Kari made an apologetic gesture. “I wasn’t suggesting she’s a fake, just that the ones I’ve heard about or had some sort of interaction with in my lives haven’t seemed authentic. If she is a true oracle, I’m more than a little intrigued to hear her advice.”

  “How long has she lived among your people?” Aeligos asked. Kari got the impression he was trying to change the subject and mood.

  “She has far outlived her generation. I believe she has seen nearly two hundred summers, if not more,” the huntress answered, leading them farther through the encampment. “When she is asked, she simply says that she will move on when she has accomplished her purpose, but she gives no indication what that purpose is, or when she expects to fulfill it.”

  The First Huntress went quiet when not pressed with questions. They traveled to the far edge of the kwarrasti village, where a solitary teepee stood apart from the others. It had its own good-sized firepit, separate from the communal one they’d passed in the village center. The white walls of the teepee were decorated with glyphic designs, and though Kari didn’t recognize any of them, she remembered the function of similar ones in the city of Rulaj on Mehr’Durillia. The demonhunter expected an aura of foreboding or power to hang about the place, but aside from a gentle breeze, the sound of insects, and the scent of the open plains, there was nothing in the air at all. She tried not to think about it, but she couldn’t help wondering already if this oracle would turn out to be a fake.

  Rhiannon called out in the kwarrasti language, and Kari was amazed at how it, too, was somewhat like beshathan. It flowed with a purr-like grace, and Kari could hear the inflection of respect and reverence even in the foreign words. After a moment, the tent flap was lifted, and out stepped something Kari had never seen before. She was kwarrasti, but had the coat and markings of a black leopard, ashen fur accentuated with darker spots. Like Rhiannon, she had deep green eyes, but though the huntress had said the Oracle was around two hundred years old, there was no sign of this woman being older than Kari or Aeligos. She was tall, muscular like the great cat she resembled, but had the bearing of wisdom and grace about her.

  “The Great Spirit said you would come.” The Oracle made a gesture that was welcoming and yet unsettling to Kari in some way. The demonhunter had expected such a trite beginning to any conversation with a so-called Oracle, but she worked to keep any judgment from her face.

  “Lady Vanador, Aeligos Tesconis, this is Kimlerin Chinchala, the Oracle,” Rhiannon said to introduce them all.

  “Chinchala?” Kari repeated. Aeligos snorted a laugh but apologized quickly. The cat-folk didn’t seem offended, but it was possible they simply hid their feelings better.

  “Yes. The old king is my father by way of adoption,” Kimlerin said. Aeligos looked embarrassed now, and it dawned on Kari why he’d laughed in the first place. “Is the great silver dragon with you?”

  “Yes, he brought us here,” the demonhunter answered. In the back of her mind, she found herself thinking, Why did she have to ask me if she’s an oracle? All right, enough with the sarcasm; if she can hear thoughts like Koursturaux can, this is going to be a short meeting.

  The black leopard nodded her head. “Then it is as the spirits foresaw.” She turned to Rhiannon then. “Thank you, child. Attend to the wishes of the Queen, and they will see you again after nightfall. For now, I would speak with our guests privately.”

  “As you wish, Exalted One,” the huntress said, and she departed.

  Kimlerin held open the flap to her tent and gestured Kari and Aeligos in. They ducked in and took seats around the central, more personal firepit. Kimlerin came in behind them and shocked Kari with a sudden, loud clap of her hands. Immediately a fire sprung up in the pit, and the Oracle took down a rattle and began shaking it, occasionally bumping it against her other palm. It was precisely the type of theatrics Kari expected, but she tried to keep an open mind. She had learned much of different gods and systems of belief in recent years, and she had no reason to believe this was any less genuine than her own deity’s practices.

  The Oracle took a seat across from her guests, gazing into the fire for several minutes without sound or motion. “The spirits say much concerning you,” she offered, turning her green eyes onto the demonhunter. “The eyes of much of Creation are upon you, from the spirits to the demon kings, and even to an angel that follows you closely.”

  “An angel?” Kari echoed. “I keep seeing this floating light that guides me, but Aeligos hasn’t seen it at all. Is it possible that’s the angel?”

  “It is quite possible. However, know that even the spirits do not see with perfect clarity regarding these current events. Not all is as it seems, most especially where you are concerned. Your entire focus revolves around a single goal, of conquering an old foe, yet this goal is not as simple as you believe, nor will the consequences be.”

  Always in riddles, Kari mused. “What do you suggest?”

  “I suggest that we first get to know one another. You are not who you appear to be. You have been living a lie these past years, one that you must come to terms with before you will be prepared to face your enemies on their ground.” She turned to Aeligos as if noticing him for the first time. “What part you will play, the spirits are unclear about; you have the potential to do both great good and great harm. It will all depend upon whether you are where you want to be, or where you need to be.”

  Aeligos sighed and glanced at Kari. “So how did you end up being adopted by Celigus?” he asked, turning back to the Oracle.

  Kimlerin bobbed her head. “I see: you wish to know the truth about me before you will believe the truth about yourself. This is acceptable. As you were told by the First Huntress, I was born with what my people call the second sight. Despite how much it may seem they revere such a gift, they are actually quite frightened by it, and I was left to die by the side of the river when I was scant days old.”

  Kari was horrified, and she made no effort to hide it. Kimlerin smiled softly and waved a hand casually. “Do not judge our people too harshly. Just as much as they succumb to fear, they believe in fate, and that if the gift was given willingly, the spirits would rescue me in some way. And so it was: I was discovered by the invading demon king Celigus Chinchala, who took pity on a helpless child and raised her as his own. Know that I was raised as much by the spirits as by my benefactor father, and so when I returned to my people, despite their trepidation, I was welcomed among them. I serve now as their spiritual anchor and a guide to the lost who come to me, from anywhere. I have far outlived my expected lifetime, and will continue to do so until I complete the task appointed to me by the Great Spirit.”

  “Do you–”

  “I have neither mate nor children, nor have I ever. My focus is on the will of the Great Spirit alone, and all other considerations I have cast by the wayside.”

  Kari looked at Aeligos, her brows raised. “So, who first?”

  The rogue scoffed. “You’re the important one,” he said, and Kari recognized he wasn’t just being modest. She wanted to argue that he was no less important, but knew he wouldn’t agree, and that it was a pointless argument to make.

  The demonhunter turned back to the Oracle, but before she could even say a word, the kwarrasti seer clapped her hands loudly again. The fire turned purple, and even in its chaotic dance, Kari started to see shapes and figures. “You said that I’ve been living a lie since I was resurrected,” Kari said, and the Oracle nodded. “Tell me what you mean by that.”

  “Behold the truth of things,” Kimlerin returned.

  The tent around them disappeared, and Kari took in her surroundings. They were in a meadow high up on a mountainside, and she saw that
Aeligos was with her. Kimlerin was nowhere to be seen, so Kari homed in on a thin plume of smoke rising from farther along the meadow. They approached a large house nestled on the hillside, a breathtaking wall of rising, spectacular, majestic mountains behind it. The area to the side of the home was flattened out. There was a massive forge there, and as they closed the distance, a great red bull harmauth emerged from the house and walked to the forge.

  Kari recognized what they were seeing, though not why. This had to be the Arcadian Highlands, a part of the Celestial Realm, and where the mighty harmauth smith Terx made his abode. She had never visited Terx’ home while she was alive; this had to be a glimpse of things she had seen, heard, and done when she was dead. Kari wondered if the living a lie comment had something to do with her scimitars, which were forged by the harmauth “turncoat,” and if that further had something to do with the swords rejecting Annabelle.

  “Lord Terx,” Kari called as they reach the forge, but the harmauth paid them no mind.

  “Kari, is that…is that you?” Aeligos asked, tugging her wing.

  She turned and looked, and balked when she saw a perfect duplicate of herself emerge from the house. She was dressed in a white robe, a stark contrast to the smooth blackness of her skin. Kari tried to keep in mind that what she was seeing was a vision, though now she wasn’t sure if it was of the past or the future. She leaned toward it being the past; after all, the Oracle had said she’d been living a lie all these years, which pointed to something she’d either forgotten or misunderstood in her past. She and Aeligos watched with rapt attention as the image of Kari sat on the harmauth’s workbench and conversed with him in some unknown language.

  A bright white light descended down the mountainside, and the great ram “demon” smith stopped his work at its approach. When the light reached the smith’s home, he bowed to it, as did Kari’s image. The light began to coalesce and take a humanoid form, and Kari’s mouth dropped open when it became the perfect image of a male terra-dracon with long, deep blue hair and crystalline blue eyes. This was none other than Gori Sensullu, the creator of Citaria, also called Arakiel by others – most notably the Mehr’Durillians. Kari was watching an image of herself standing before her creator, and she then understood this was certainly the past; after all, Arakiel was dead.