Pathfinder Tales: Skinwalkers

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Pathfinder Tales: Skinwalkers Page 27

by Wendy N. Wagner

Jendara suddenly remembered watching crows mob a hawk that threatened their nest, or other times watching them harass a family of robins until the parents were too distracted to notice another crow sneaking into the nest to steal their babies. She rubbed the scratch on her scalp. Maybe this behavior wasn't so unusual, after all.

  Maybe it was why Kalira had picked crows.

  Jendara's hand slipped into her belt pouch. Her fingers closed on the broken soapstone pendant. The crows had always felt like a tiny connection between her and Kalira. Not anymore.

  She flung the pendant aside and heard it bounce down the path. Good. Maybe someone's boot would grind it into dust.

  "Keep moving," she said.

  They pressed into the darkness of the spruce grove and were glad not to hear any suspicious sounds. Jorgen urged them forward, pausing now and again to check the ground for tracks. He stopped again and knelt beside a tree to study its bark.

  "What do you see?" Jendara asked.

  "Claw marks. Probably a cougar, marking territory." He shook his head. "This island is barely big enough to support one cougar, but this is the second set of cougar markings I've seen."

  "It's from a skinwalker," Jendara said. "Kalira likes cougars."

  "I was afraid you'd say that." He stood up.

  Something reddish gold flew out of the tree and smashed into his chest. Man and cougar somersaulted down the trail.

  "Jorgen!"

  Jendara turned toward him, but just then an arrow plunged into the cat's chest. It snarled with pain. Behind Jendara, the archer who hadn't been injured by crows took out another arrow, but the cougar went still. Jorgan pulled himself to his feet, his dagger dripping blood. Jendara sagged with relief.

  The archer toppled against Jendara, a knife buried in his eye.

  "Run!" Jendara shouted. She grabbed Jorgen by the elbow and urged him up the hill. The remaining archer swore as he ran.

  Roars filled the air behind them as they raced up the path. Down on the beach, someone screamed. The crows must have alerted Kalira's troops, and now Jorgen's volunteers were being cut down on the beach and the trail. Jendara had to get out of this bottleneck before she wound up like that archer. She pushed past her friend.

  "Where are you going?" Jorgen shouted, but she didn't slow down to answer.

  A boar plunged out of the brush ahead and stared at her. Jendara hesitated, unsure whether to rush it or run away. She didn't dare risk breaking the spear—she would need its power when she faced Kalira.

  The boar bellowed and charged her.

  Without thinking, Jendara dropped to her knees and whipped out her dagger. The creature's eyes widened and it veered at the last second, but too late.

  Blood burst from its throat as her dagger slid in, hot enough to steam in the cool night air. The boar toppled onto its side. Jendara stared at it. It had died so easily. Now that she got a better look at it, she could see that it was much smaller than the boar she'd hunted on Sorind. Its eyes blinked up at her, large and dark. The tough hide melted back, revealing tender skin and a gasping mouth, surprise showing in every desperate attempt to speak.

  Jendara pressed her fingers over her lips. He was just a boy, not much older than Kran or Rowri.

  His milky eyes went wide. His body twitched, once. Then he went still.

  "Oh, gods," Jendara whispered.

  Jorgen had caught up to her again. "Are you all right?"

  She nodded, unable to find her voice. Those dark eyes, so much like her boy's. Was that what Kalira would do to Kran once she had marked him and turned him to her kind?

  "Who sends children to war?" she whispered.

  "A monster," he answered. "One we're going to stop."

  He offered her his hand and pulled her to her feet. She wiped her bloody palms off on her pants. After this was all over, she was going to have to burn these clothes.

  "We're almost there," she said, and took a better hold of the spear. "Let's get this over with."

  They darted toward the end of the spruce grove. In the east, the moon had risen, full and bright. Jendara hadn't even noticed it in the cover of the trees. Despite her original wish for the cover of darkness, now that she'd been discovered, the moon would aid her people more than Kalira's night predators. Its glow filled her with hope.

  Kran, she thought, I'm coming.

  paizo.com #3236236, Corry Douglas , Aug 10, 2014

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Skinwalker

  Jendara smelled smoke and roasted meat before they entered the goat meadow. Her nose crinkled with disgust. Down on the beach, Kalira's people were fighting and dying. Up here, her sister was enjoying a feast.

  But as her little group crept closer, she realized just how wrong she was. A bonfire burned in the center of the ruined town of Crow's Nest, and five or six dancers circled it. Their bodies twisted and writhed in the ruddy light. Jendara caught only an occasional glimpse of the fire itself, but that was enough to make out the big cauldron squatting in the coals and the boy lashed to a post beside it.

  "Kran," she growled.

  Jorgen took a preemptive hold on her arm. "We don't know what's happening up there yet. Just watch a few seconds."

  "I see enough to know she's brewing up something evil," she snapped. "And she's got my son handy for testing it."

  "You don't know that," he growled. "Now I'm going to circle around the other side to get a better look. You stay here."

  Jendara nodded, but she didn't watch him go. Her eyes were fixed on Kran. Maybe it was just his bindings, but his back was ramrod straight and chin high. His posture showed no fear.

  She felt a hot wave of pride for her boy.

  She crept forward a few feet, pressing her belly to the dirt. Jorgen had vanished into the surrounding forest. He was good at this kind of thing, she realized. She'd been lucky Fambra had gotten his help.

  Fambra. Had she reached Sorind all right? Were there enough usable boats to get any fighters to the island? Jendara bit her lip. From the fighting she'd heard back there in the woods, Kalira's force was larger than Jendara had hoped. Even though Jorgen's volunteers were all blooded warriors, she knew things would get desperate if there weren't reinforcements coming from Sorind.

  She inched closer and felt the cold touch of iron on the side of her hand. She whipped back her arm, but something metallic shot up in the air with a horrible clang and then crashed down again, striking her shoulder, hard.

  A bear trap. Damn, but that had been close.

  A man broke out of the circle, sprinting toward her as she leaped to her feet. She kicked him in the chest and he flew backward, tripping a second bear trap. It snapped shut on his torso with a sickening crunch.

  Jendara spun around. Ferns and berry bushes covered every inch of ground, hiding any other traps. A single wrong step could mangle her.

  Crows flew out of the clearing, battering her head and neck and cutting off her vision. Beaks snipped at her ears. Talons closed on her shoulder, and then hands grabbed her arms and dragged her forward.

  She kicked and bucked, but eyes closed tight against the crows' questing beaks made it hard to tell where her attackers were coming from, or even how many there were. She twisted away from the hands, but another set grabbed her ankles, pinning them. With a grunt, she managed to bend her knees and headbutt the man holding her legs. The man gave a satisfying groan.

  "Stop struggling, Jendara." Kalira's voice rang out over the cacophony.

  Jendara's hand stung as the remnant of Kalira's brand pulsed with sudden fire. Jendara went still. The spear! She'd dropped the spear! She hoped whatever magic the spirits had worked on her hand would hold out without the spear's comforting presence.

  "Such a touching reunion, don't you think, Brynorm? Mother, son, and favorite auntie." Kalira chuckled. The crow fluttered off Jendara's shoulder, slipping inside the horrible headdress perched on Kalira's head. She had swapped her white gown for fighting leathers and a cloak of inky black feathers.

/>   "It's hard to believe she's your sister," the big Kalvaman answered. He stepped closer to Kalira's side. Jendara narrowed her eyes at him. With his thick dark beard and great height, he looked suddenly very like a dark version of her father.

  Her stomach clenched at the realization. He was why Kalira had gone over to the Kalvamen. He had saved her from torture and inevitable death. He had given her a place to belong. And under it all, he looked like their father, led like their father. How could Kalira have resisted that when she was lost and lonely in that terrible place?

  This was all his fault. Jendara bared her teeth. As soon as she was free, she was going to make him pay.

  "Defiant. You two have that in common, at least." He stepped away, nostrils flaring. "We need to join our warriors. The battle grows fierce."

  "In a moment," Kalira snapped. She moved closer to Jendara. "Give me her hand." She dug her long filthy nails into Jendara's hand, staring at the tiny mark the spirits had made of Kalira's brand. "How did you do this?" she snapped.

  Jendara laughed. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

  Kalira slapped her. Jendara flexed her jaw muscle and the joint protested. "You hit like a child," she lied.

  "I can still change you," Kalira growled. "Although I doubt it would be worth the effort. You've broken every promise you ever made me."

  "What?"

  Kalira grabbed Jendara's throat. "You never came back. You left me behind, and you never came back!"

  The Kalvaman gripping Jendara's left side crumpled to the ground, an arrow sticking out of his gut.

  Jorgen shoved Kalira aside. "Come on!" he shouted. "Get the boy and get moving!"

  He slashed out with his dagger, blinding Jendara's other captor. Brynorm launched himself at Jendara, but Jendara twisted aside. She ran to Kran. With her belt knife, she sliced his wrist ties.

  A fist drove into the back of her head. Jendara slid onto her knees, her head spinning. The knife slipped from suddenly nerveless fingers. She pawed at the base of Kran's post to steady herself, but a boot drove itself into her ribs. She fell sideways.

  "You're not taking him!" Kalira screamed. "He's the last of my family!"

  Jendara pushed herself onto her elbow. The knife. It was here somewhere.

  But Kalira had Kran by the arm now, and her fingers looked strange. They were growing, their tips turning black and lengthening. Jendara's eyes widened as the feathers of Kalira's headdress crawled across the surface of her forehead and down her cheeks. The black cloak roiled across her back and quills sprang up from her shoulders.

  Jendara's fingers closed on the hilt of her belt knife. She staggered to her feet, her head spinning. "I'll kill you for touching my boy," she growled. As Kalira's face stretched into a sharp black beak, Jendara lashed out at Kalira's feathered arm.

  But Kalira's hand closed on the blade, squeezing it tightly. Kalira's eyes gleamed for a moment. A burning cold spread up Jendara's arm. She began to shiver and tremble so hard the knife fell from her freezing hand.

  Kalira snapped her beak shut around Kran's arm even as her fingers stretched into long pinions. She flapped her huge wings, once, twice, the wind of their motion churning up dust. Jendara shielded her eyes and charged forward. A powerful gust pushed her backward as Kalira took to the air.

  "Kran!" Jendara screamed. She grabbed for his legs, but he was already out of reach. She whirled on her companions. "Shoot the witch!"

  A bowstring twanged, but the arrow fell short. Jendara looked frantically around her. There was only one way on or off this island, and Kalira couldn't fly forever. She would take him to the beach. It was the obvious next step.

  A fist caught Jendara in the gut and she fell backward. Brynorm laughed, a hard, ugly sound.

  "You're not going to stop her," he declared. "She is the savior of my people." He drew back his foot to kick Jendara in the head.

  It was just what she needed. She caught his ankle and twisted, pulling him off balance. He fell, hard, and she leaped on top of him. She drove her knife at his eye, but a quick wrench of his head spun the blow harmlessly down the side of his cheek. Blood welled up, but it was not a killing blow.

  He punched at her throat, connecting with her temple instead. She saw stars for an instant but didn't lose her seat. She whipped back her knife and stabbed it into his shoulder.

  He roared with pain, and she brought the heel of her fist down onto his nose. It crunched beneath the blow. He grabbed her neck and squeezed hard.

  She bared her teeth at him again, anger replacing the fear she felt for Kran. The Kalvaman looked nothing like her father now, covered in blood. "Where's your savior now?" she croaked.

  She drove the knife down one more time, right through his throat. His hands clenched horribly tight and then fell.

  Jendara jumped free, rubbing her throat. The space around the fire was empty of Kalvamen, the barbarians having followed Kalira or fallen to Jorgen's archers.

  She looked down at Brynorm, with his tattooed forearms and the ugly brand on his neck. He had saved her sister, in his fashion. Taken care of her. Believed in her. Jendara shook her head. In any other situation, Jendara would have thought such a man a good one. But he was a Kalvaman. She freed her knife from his flesh.

  "You all right?"

  She nodded at Jorgen and spun once more in a slow circle, searching for the fallen spear. Even shrunken, the marking on her hand had burned when she'd faced Kalira back there. She needed the ancestors' spear if she was going to win their next fight.

  Beside the fading fire, a flicker of blue winked at her. Jendara snatched up the fallen spear. "We've got to get back to the beach."

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  Jendara raced down the spruce grove trail in a blur. Arrows whizzed past her, men and women darted by, beasts snarled and wrestled with fighters. She thought she saw Morul's bronze helm as she skirted a knot of skirmishers, and she might have seen Fambra's red hair flash in the moonlight on the edge of the beach. But mostly, she just ran, ignoring any interruption.

  When she hit the sand, she slowed, awed by the activity on the shore. Kalira's people had been busy. She wondered where they had hidden all their ships, because there were now half a dozen longships on the beach, with more in the water, and Kalira's creatures were protecting them with their lives. Sharks circled in the water, driving back invading vessels that might cut off the Kalvamen's escape. Kalira's fighters might make good raiders, but this time they were the ones caught unprepared. Their best hope was to run away from this attack force.

  An ungainly figure stood beside a group of beached canoes. It took Jendara a second to realize it was Kalira, human again and wearing her horrible headdress, Kran slung over her shoulder. The boy didn't move.

  Jendara's blood boiled. She vaulted over a fallen man in an Iron Shield uniform and raced toward the boat. A crow threw itself at her, but she batted it aside with the spear without breaking stride. A Kalvaman stepped forward and swung out with his sword, but she parried and shoved him out of her way. Nothing could stand between her and Kran any longer. Not even her sister.

  "Kalira!" she roared.

  Kalira tossed aside Kran's body and spread her arms. A piercing note rose out of her throat, so high and shrill Jendara wanted to cover her ears. The back of Jendara's hand stung.

  In the forest behind them, someone screamed.

  "Come, my friend!" Kalira shouted. "Get vengeance for your child!"

  A man in scale armor flew over Jendara's head. Jendara spun around.

  The massive troll chuckled with a sound like rocks grinding together. Kalira's black wing brands dotted its torso and its saggy dugs. A female, this creature stood a good two and half feet taller than the weakened troll Jendara had dispatched. An arrow sank into its forearm, but the troll simply yanked it out and kept walking.

  "Shit," Jendara breathed. Kalira laughed.

  The troll's arm swung out and launched Jendara across the beach. She landed on her side, head bouncing off the sand. She fought to get a
ir back in her lungs. Coughing, she struggled to her feet.

  The troll lowered its head and charged. Jendara switched the spear to her left hand and unsheathed her sword. That thing was between her and her son.

  "Get out of my way!" Jendara ran forward to meet the creature.

  The troll's claws sliced down at her. At the last second, Jendara twisted away, her sword scoring a mark in the giant's thick hide. The troll growled.

  Jendara pivoted to face the creature, her sword chopping into the meat of the troll's thigh. Blood gushed from the wound and the troll slapped at Jendara. Jendara flung herself backward, barely dodging the blow. The creature was faster than it looked.

  The troll limped closer, its upper lip curling back from its pointed teeth. Its tusks winked in the moonlight.

  A battle axe smashed into the side of its ribs, chopping out a chunk of green flesh. With a shriek, the troll whirled around to face Morul.

  "I've got this covered, Dara! Stop that witch!"

  A knot of warriors ran to join Morul, their voices raised in island battle cries. Fambra's red hair stood out in the crowd.

  Jendara spun to face the water. Kran still lay on the sand, motionless, while Kalira pushed a canoe down to the waves. Jendara raced to Kran's side and dropped to her knees. Her sword and the ancestors' spear fell to the sand beside her.

  "Kran? Wake up." She shook his shoulder. His head flopped in the sand. She grabbed his hand. A blood-soaked hunk of fur bound it tightly. She clawed it off, reeling at the stink of tar and spoiled meat. An ugly gash ran across the back of his hand, and black tendrils already wound out from around the wound.

  "Get away from him!" Kalira shrieked.

  Jendara shook Kran again, but the boy didn't move. "What've you done to him?"

  "He's my son now. He'll be powerful and strong!" Kalira grabbed Jendara's shoulders to yank her away from the boy.

  The spear beside Jendara's knee surged with sudden warmth. She snatched it up and jumped to her feet. "This isn't your home," she snapped. "You turned on it."

  "I'm here to make it better," Kalira said. "The Kalvamen taught me something, Jendara. They taught me that the world is cruel and ugly and you can only trust your own strength. Well, I'm strong! And I can make this place strong, too. As strong as my skinwalkers!"

 

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