“I just know,” I said. “Though, my old mentor would have done better.”
Ne’kall grunted. “Don’t go comparing us now. You know I hate that.”
“Daddy! Daddy!” a little girl called out to him before I could respond. She was young, maybe no older than five, with brown eyes, and a dual-colored mohawk that matched Ne’kall’s.
He chuckled and picked the little girl up. “Hey there, sweetheart.”
“Look, daddy!” She held out her hand showing him a small flaming butterfly. “Look at what this pretty lady made.”
I did my best not to react to her words and Ne’kall chuckled. “I see it. It’s very pretty.”
“Daddy, how come you were fighting with this lady?” his daughter asked.
Ne’kall shook his head. “Laz’shika and I weren’t fighting. We’re old friends and we were catching up.”
His daughter nodded. “How come you lost?”
Ne’kall chuckled. “Because I always lose to her.”
His daughter smiled. “How long have you known her, daddy?”
“A long time. Before your older brother was born,” he replied.
She scrunched her nose. “Daddy, you’re old.”
I laughed. She was cute. She reminded me of Ryder.
“Lady, how old is you?” the girl asked innocently.
“Selena, that’s rude,” Ne’kall scolded.
I chuckled. “I’m eighty-five.”
Selena tilted her head. “You don’t look that old.”
I laughed. “Well does your father look two hundred years old?”
She looked at Ne’kall and nodded. “Yes, but that’s cause he’s old. But that’s okay. Daddies are supposed to be old.”
I laughed some more and Ne’kall joined in.
“Are you sure you don’t want this life?” he teased. “You’d like it.”
“I don’t do kids,” I told him.
“You have a son,” he objected.
“Tank-born, not the same,” I countered.
“What’s a tank-born?” Selena asked.
“Someone who is created; not born,” I said.
She cocked her head and blinked. “I don’t get it.”
I chuckled. “You will when you’re older.”
“M’kay.” She looked at Ne’kall. “Daddy, can I go play again?”
He kissed her on the head and set her down. “Of course. Go have fun.”
Selena giggled and ran off to play with the remaining fire butterflies. I shoved my hand into my pockets and headed back to where Raikidan and the others were waiting.
“So how is he doing?” Ne’kall asked as he followed.
“Ryder?” I shrugged. “Fine I guess. I don’t see him often. The geneticists figured out the aging problem and now have it partially fixed.”
Talon snorted as he overheard us on our way over. “He’s a pain in the ass like you.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” I replied.
“He doesn’t listen, like someone we know,” he said as he looked at me accusingly.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I shot.
“Why shouldn’t I?” he shot back. “You’re the one who is covered in self-inflicted scars.”
I snorted and folded my arms. “Your point?”
“Wait, those scars are self inflicted?” Tla’lli asked.
I nodded. “Some of them.”
“All of them,” Talon corrected.
“Most of them,” I ended.
“Why would you do that to yourself?” Tla’lli asked.
“As punishment,” Talon explained. “It’s designed into us to obey orders without question and if we disobey any order we’re to feel pain as a type of deterrent from doing it again, and that pain is usually self-inflicted. But, even though it’s supposed to be a deterrent, that doesn’t mean some people like to listen to it.”
I snorted. “I don’t take orders.”
“And neither does your son,” Talon shot.
“It’s not my fault,” I retorted. “I tell him to listen.”
Talon blinked. “Wait, really?”
I nodded. “It keeps him safe.”
“Well, he needs new listening skills,” Talon commented. “He’d rather run off and build something than do something as simple as patrol the city.”
“He’s a maker, not a destroyer,” I reminded him.
Talon nodded. “That, I can agree with.”
“What does he make?” Tla’lli asked.
“He’s a blacksmith,” Talon explained to her. “And one of the finest ones I’ve ever seen at that. He specialized in weapon making. He made a real fascinating one for Commander Eira, but she doesn’t appear to have it on her.”
“He dropped by before we left the city to take it for some special project he wouldn’t tell me about,” I said.
Talon smiled. “That would figure. He’s always doing something for you.”
“He’s always trying to please me,” I corrected.
“More like make you happy,” Talon said.
I grunted. “Not possible. Now we really should get to work. We’re burning daylight on stupid subjects.”
Talon sighed. “Very well. Where will we start?”
“Show me a tactical map. Explain where we stand. What Zarda’s power status is. Anything will do at this point. I haven’t gotten a single report from you.”
Talon held up his hands. “All right, all right, I get it. You’re not happy with me. Here…” Talon pulled a metal cube out of a pouch that was attached to his belt. “We’ll start off with the tactical map. It’ll help with explaining just about everything. We just need a table to rest it on.”
“A table you say?” Ir’esh chuckled. “That’s simple.”
With a flick of his hand the ground between us shifted and a large, oval cylinder piece of earth shot up, creating a type of table. Talon walked up to the table and placed the cube down onto it. I joined him and stood on his right and Raikidan moved from his place to stand to my right. Ir’esh and Tla’lli took their place at the table opposite of us but we were still missing someone.
“Zaith, you’re a part of this too,” I called over to him. “Get over here.”
Zaith muttered to himself and moved from where he had been observing everything to join us.
Once he was at the tactical table Talon reached for the object he’d placed down on the table but Ir’esh stopped him. “Before we start, Eira promised to explain these clothes of hers.”
I shrugged. “I won’t, but Talon will.”
“Oh, well thanks for volunteering me,” he replied sarcastically.
I grunted. “I know nothing about them. I was told they were bullet proof and change into whatever I want.”
Talon nodded. “That’s the basic gist of it. The ones we’re using now are a bit different than the one you’re currently using. The ones Arnia dropped off for you were new prototypes. They’re supposed to be resistant to the most current firepower and sharp weapon damage like your daggers. It was said they could possibly even withstand plasma weapons but no one knows because we can’t get a working gun right now. The one the rest of us are using can only protect us from the most common gunfire and has a tendency to fail against sharp weapon damage. Other than that, not really much else to it.”
“But how does it do it?” Tla’lli asked. “How does it know how to protect you and how does it know what to look like? Is it magic or is it science?”
Talon chuckled. “It’s definitely not magic. The cloth is alive.”
I looked at him funny. “What?”
Talon chuckled again and placed his hand on his chest. The chest-plate reacted to his touch and shifted to its dormant cloth state, leaving hi
s torso exposed. He handed the cloth over to Ir’esh to take a look at. “Looks and feels like an ordinary piece of spandex right?”
Ir’esh nodded and waited for Talon to go on. Talon rummaged through one of his pouches on his belt and pulled out a small cylindrical object.
“You have a lot of stuff in those pockets,” Tla’lli commented.
Talon smiled at her. “I’m Eira’s highest ranking tactician. If I’m not prepared, then there’s going to be a problem.”
Tla’lli laughed and waited for an explanation about the cloth her father held. Ir’esh handed the cloth back to Talon when he asked for it, and he pressed a button on the cylindrical object. A small laser appeared out of one end. He pointed the laser at the cloth and the top of the object projected a magnified view of the cloth.
“Like I said, the cloth is alive. It’s made up of organic material that is enhanced for durability.” Talon ran his thumb across the material and it reacted defensively. “As you can see, it reacts to touch and as a way to protect itself, its individual cells cluster and harden. Inadvertently, this protects the one wearing the cloth.”
“So you use its protective nature to your advantage,” Zaith observed.
Talon nodded. “Exactly.”
“But how do you get it to change?” Tla’lli asked.
Talon chuckled “I’m getting to that.” He placed the cloth back onto his chest and it reacted to his will and changed back into his chest-plate. “Because the material is living, it requires a food source. This is where science takes its big hold. The material has been manipulated to feed off of electrical charges, in particular neural electrical charges.
“This is the energy that passes through all the neurons in your body, and is the energy your brain works on. This being said, the cloth taps into this limitless energy, connecting it right to your brain, allowing someone to control it as easily as it is to breathe.”
“So what’s the catch?” Zaith asked.
“Well it has a limit of what it can change into,” Talon admitted. “Because the cloth doesn’t exactly have a brain, it doesn’t have memory, so it can’t store any information. This means in order to change into something, it’s forced to feed off the memories of the user. So if the user doesn’t know everything about an item to be worn, the material can’t change into it.”
“So you need to know the item by sight, texture, smell, and the works,” Tla’lli mused. “But it’s impossible to remember all that.”
Talon chuckled. “Just because you can’t think of it consciously doesn’t mean it’s not stored subconsciously.”
Tla’lli nodded. “Okay, I think I get it.”
Ir’esh rubbed his chin. “Our tribe is unique. Not only are we shamans, but we’re druids as well. We must enchant our clothes so we don’t lose them if we choose to take our animal form. Can these clothes you have handle that?”
Talon scratched his head. “I don’t know. We don’t currently have any shifters to test that out on.”
“They won’t,” I piped in. “You still need the spell.”
“You’ve tested this then?” Ir’esh asked.
I nodded and pointed at Raikidan. “On him.”
Ir’esh chuckled. “I’ll accept that.”
“Are we done talking about these stupid clothes yet?” Zaith muttered. “They seem to be the least of our worries.”
“Very well.” I motioned Talon to begin.
Talon stored his magnifying tool and started up a holographic map from the cube he had placed down on the tactical table.
Talon pointed to the map. “This is the most current information we have. As you can see, this shows the land and who controls it. The blue circles are the shaman tribe and the green are the druids. Orange shades are the various nu-human power cities not yet taken over by Zarda. Violet are the elves, yellow are the small wogron packs we know of, and brown are the dwarves. The large red areas belong to Zarda.”
Ir’esh leaned closer. “That’s a lot of land he controls.”
Talon nodded. “And he still craves more. He won’t be happy until he has it all.”
Zaith narrowed his eyes. “Where are the dragons and gypsies?”
“Gypsies are nomads, so they have no land to speak of,” I said.
“And we have no data on dragons,” Talon concluded. “As far as we were aware, you were all dead.”
Zaith looked at Talon funny. “What?”
“It’s exactly as I said it. Nothing else to it,” Talon told him. “Frankly, we were surprised to see you flying over us when we first arrived.”
“That’s doesn’t makes sense. He would know because of…” Zaith trailed off and stared at the ground in thought.
Talon looked at me and I waved him off. Zaith knew something, but right now wasn’t the time to find out what. Talon nodded and continued explaining where we stood. By the time he was done, the sun was a mere sliver on the mountainous horizon.
“And that’s it,” Talon finished. “That’s the best I can explain everything, so I hope no one has any questions.”
“I have one but it’s not related to anything you just talked about,” Tla’lli said.
“Very well, what is it?” Talon questioned.
“What are we going to do about the events that transpired earlier?” she asked. “I doubt Zarda didn’t know about this many soldiers leaving the city.”
Talon nodded. “You’re right, he did know. General Rick requested permission to come out here with this company, on the count you had broken the treaty in some way, even though he had no proof.”
“And the way we fix it will be easy,” I stated.
I walked away toward the entrance of the village. My men parted for me, and as they did, a soldier handed me his elven-crafted sword. I took it gratefully and left the village for Rick’s body. With great swiftness, I sliced the blade through his neck, severing his head from the rest of him.
Taking the head and leaving the body, I headed back into the village. I tossed the elven sword back to its owner and headed for Talon and tossed Rick’s head to him when I was close enough. He caught it and kept it away from his body in disgust.
“You couldn’t have put it in a bag first?” he muttered before he pulled a large leather bag out of a pouch and stuffed the head inside.
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be such a baby. Show that to Zarda and tell him Rick defected. It’s that simple.”
“I didn’t kill him,” Talon said. “I can’t present him with this unless I did it.”
“Then lie,” I instructed.
“You know I’m terrible at that,” he said.
“Then learn fast,” I replied. “It’s the only way you’re going to be able to get him to believe Rick was lying and not killed by me.”
Talon sighed. “All right. I’ll do my best but if I’m killed I’m blaming you.”
I snorted. “If you can’t lie well enough that’s your problem.”
“What if I went with him?” Tla’lli offered. “If I explained our side would that help?”
I thought this over a moment and then nodded. “Yes, it would help but it would be best if your father went instead.”
Tla’lli shook her head. “Due to his health I have to say no. I must go in his place.”
I sighed. “Very well, but be careful. Zarda will expect your father, so you’ll need to explain yourself for your appearance and not his. Be tactful in what you say, and give no signs of weakness in the tribe due to his illness.”
Tla’lli nodded. “Don’t worry about that. I’m good with words.”
I nodded. “Good.”
I looked down and blinked as a young boy approached me with a small wooded bowl filled with a foul-smelling clear liquid.
“It’s to wash your hands,” he explained quietly
. “Sorry that it smells bad.”
I smiled at the boy and gratefully washed my bloody hands. When I was done, the boy ran off to dispose of the solution.
“Remarkable solution,” Ir’esh remarked. “We received a supply a few months ago from your tribe. It’s quite handy. You wouldn’t happen to know the person who made it, would you?”
“I did,” I stated quietly. “Now if you excuse me, I must speak with my men before I leave and go about my usual business.”
I turned on my heels and went to speak with my men. As I spoke with them, I listened to their worries about our plans and heard ideas they shared to aid us. Some of them were absolutely terrible, while others were quite good.
As I was speaking with one soldier who was worried about safety, we were interrupted by someone near us calling out. “Watch out!”
Chapter 36
Before I could think to turn and see who the warning was for, something heavy hit me in the back and I fell to the ground.
“Ow…” I complained. My assailant chirped happily and I sighed. “Rimu…”
My men laughed at me.
“She can take on monsters, armies, and adult dragons, but she’s taken down by a single baby dragon with ease,” someone teased.
I grunted. “You all will shut your mouths if you know what’s best for you.”
The men laughed but didn’t make any more comments, as I asked. I grunted when Rimu shifted his weight as he sat on my back.
“Rimu, get off me,” I muttered.
Rimu grunted in defiance and planted his front claw on my head, pinning me more. Xaneth giggled and then knelt down beside me.
“I apologize. He’s been eying that hair clip of yours for a while now. I didn’t think he’d actually jump you though.”
“He was eying my—that’s what this is about?”
Xaneth giggled. “I’m afraid so. The urge to hoard is hard for our young to resist especially something like that—Rimu, don’t you dare!”
I blinked with confusion with her sudden warning. What was Rimu about to—
“Hey!” I shouted when my hair fell free and Rimu jumped off me. “Give that back, you little punk!”
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