The Bronze Blade

by Elizabeth Hunter

  “She eats the meat of a razed village and boasts,” Aday said. “Maybe you should kill her.”

  Saraal shook her head, the ghost of a smile turning up her mouth.

  The human’s eyes widened and she stepped back, but Saraal was too fast.

  One touch.

  That was all it took, and she felt the faint energy leave the tips of her fingers, which were banded around the woman’s wrist. The energy wound up the arm, the neck, until it grasped the woman’s mind like a viper and sank its teeth to hold on.

  “Should I tell her to come back?” Saraal asked Aday.

  “No. He will know you hold her mind. Do it now.”

  Bend down and give me your neck.

  “Wait. Take her behind the tent,” Aday said softly. “You don’t want the others to tell Kuluun.”

  Saraal stood and took the woman to an empty tent. Then she gave the command again.

  Give me your neck.

  Wordlessly, she tilted her head back and Saraal felt her fangs grow long. They pricked her own tongue before she folded herself down and sank her teeth into the soft neck of the human.

  Bliss.

  It wasn’t as sweet as Odval’s blood, nor as rich, but the human’s blood was pure and clear, like water from a spring stream. She drank in, not thinking until she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Aday.

  “Not too much,” she whispered. “Now heal her neck and tell her to forget.”

  “How do I heal—”

  “Think, Saraal. What heals you if you have a cut?”

  Her own blood. It was something she’d learned accidentally after Kuluun had beaten her bloody. The areas where her blood trickled into her wounds closed faster. Saraal pricked her finger with a fang and spread the red blood over the bite marks in the human’s neck.

  Within minutes, they were closed.

  “Now, tell her to forget.” Aday’s voice sounded bossy to her ears.

  Saraal stood up and met her eyes. “I know what to do, Aday.”

  “Do you?”

  She glared at Aday and turned to the woman, tugging on the thread that connected them.

  Forget this. Forget the tent. Forget my bite. You’re back at the cooking fire and taking a bowl of stew to Kuluun.

  She thought that would work. If it didn’t, she’d find out soon enough.

  The human ducked out of the tent and Saraal heard her scurry away. Her ears were open. Her eyes took in every corner of the dark tent, which belonged to one of Suk’s older children.

  She inhaled deeply and escaped into the night.

  “How do you feel?” Aday asked, as they walked along the dark edge of the camp.

  “Good.”

  “Only good?”

  Saraal shrugged. “Good is enough.”

  “No, it’s not.” Angry fire lit Aday’s eyes. “Good is never enough. Nothing is enough for you. This starts tonight.”

  “What are you talking about?” Saraal was annoyed and wanted to remain unnoticed for a while. As much as the other Sida were avoiding her, she still didn’t want to court Kuluun’s wrath.

  “What am I talking about?” Aday was grinning like a madwoman, her curling fangs and cloudy eyes alight with humor. “You’re walking on air now, my girl. And you’re not going to stop.”

  “I know… you’re… drinking… it!” Each pause was punctuated by a fist as Kuluun straddled her, holding her to the ground as her ears rung and her eyes swam. “I saw you flying. I smell you on her!”

  Flying was probably an exaggeration. The most she could do was hover. But Saraal had no doubt that Kuluun could smell her on his human, who became very affectionate when she was bitten. Who knew it could be a pleasurable experience for humans? Saraal found the touching distasteful. She only humored the woman because she enjoyed the blood. Unfortunately, it was the woman’s moan of pleasure that alerted Kuluun to Saraal’s drinking. Or at least, confirmed it. He’d grabbed her from her tent as she woke and taken her to his.

  Kuluun’s fist caught Saraal under her ear, and she felt a trickle of blood leak out. She’d have to drink extra later. If she was still conscious.

  But she wasn’t going to stop drinking.

  “Ungrateful bitch! I should have killed you years ago.”

  How was Kuluun still so strong? With all the children he’d sired, he should be weak. Saraal guessed it was a combination of brute force, blood gluttony, and pure hate. It occurred to Saraal that he was so enraged, he might actually kill her. If he took off her head…

  “And if you think I don’t know what you did to—”

  He broke off when he heard the sound of pony hooves in the distance. Saraal heard them, too. In fact, she’d heard them before Kuluun did.

  Interesting.

  The humans were in camp that night. They’d taken a village during the day, and they were enjoying the spoils that night. Cooking fires roasted fat spits of meat. Sida laughed and women cried. No one should be approaching the warriors’ camp that night. No one should have been coming that fast. No one—

  Kuluun muttered a curse and stood. There were cries of surprise. Then cries of pain. Kuluun left the tent in a blur.

  Saraal curled into herself and stared into the shadows. Aday came to rest beside her, stroking her back.

  “Not long now.” She stroked Saraal’s messy cap of hair. “Soon, you’ll be strong enough to kill him.”

  Saraal said nothing. Her mouth was swollen, but already healing. She felt two teeth come loose as the new ones grew in behind them. She’d lost so many teeth over the years from the brothers’ fists, she was surprised her body still produced them. Luckily, her fangs were rooted. She’d still be able to feed.

  The sounds outside the tent were chaotic for a few minutes—ponies snorting, humans crying, grunts and the metallic clang of weapons. Then, it died down and there was silence.

  “What is happening?” Saraal quietly asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “That sounded like fighting.”

  “It was. You should get up,” Aday said. “Leave.”

  “I… I’m sore. I’ll just wait a few moments.”

  “Leave, Saraal.”

  Aday’s voice was growing panicked, but Saraal’s eyelids were starting to droop.

  “In a minute. Promise…”

  It happened occasionally. If she bled too much, her body would shut down and repair itself in sleep. She always woke the next day with barely a bruise, no matter how violent the beating. She could feel her tongue grow thick, her eyelids droop.

  “Leave! Leave now!”

  “Can’t. Can’t…” She remembered a rhyme her mother taught her. It was a playful song she was supposed to sing when she was hurt. To distract herself from the pain. So much pain…

  “Saraal, you must get up. Wake up. Run now!”

  She was drifting. She should get back to her tent. Back to safety…

  “RUN!”

  Why was Aday so loud?

  Saraal gasped awake when someone grabbed her neck and pulled her up. Her eyes flew open at the clash of scents.

  “What is this?” There was a commotion outside the tent, then the whole low structure was torn away and Saraal was tossed in the air.

  Aday was screaming and flying in circles over her head. The creature was enraged.

  “No! No no no no no!”

  Saraal could do nothing, bloody and broken, she hadn’t had time to heal. Hadn’t had time to plan. She landed in a pair of burly arms. Who held her? She had no idea, though there was something oddly familiar about his scent.

  “What is this creature?”

  “We found her in your brother’s tent. She was talking to herself.”

  “Why would a human…” There was a long pause, then whoever held her yanked her back by the hair. He cursed. “I thought it was a boy. She didn’t used to look like this.”

  “What should we do with her, Temur?”

  Silence. Saraal forced her eyes open, only to find herself looking into a p
air of black eyes. Demon eyes. They flared red with fire.

  But no…

  No, it was only a reflection of the fire burning through the camp. She could smell the smoke. She blinked and her eyes cleared. The dark eyes still stared.

  “She’s one of us. Sida.”

  “A female?”

  The man grunted. “Kuluun said he wanted a wife, as he’d had when he was human. A mate who would be like him.”

  Saraal started to laugh. High, hysterical laughter burst from her bloody lips. Her belly shook with it. The pain tore through her, but she couldn’t stop laughing. The men kept talking over her laughter.

  “What have they done to her?”

  “A better question might be, what haven’t they done?”

  One of them threw her over a shoulder and started walking. Saraal kept laughing as Aday flew behind, hovering and scowling at the two men as they talked.

  “She’s mad.”

  “Clearly.”

  “Should we just kill her now? It would probably be a mercy.”

  “No. She’s a child of Jun.”

  “Directly sired?” Saraal stopped laughing at the surprise in the man’s voice. Was it so unusual for Jun to sire children?

  “Yes. My father turned her himself.”

  The other man let out what sounded like a curse, but in a language Saraal didn’t recognize.

  “I know,” the man carrying Saraal said. “Kuluun has always been stupid.”

  “What a waste.”

  “Well…” The two men stopped at a tent. Saraal could see it through one swollen eye, which was also aching, trying to heal. The tent wasn’t like others she knew. It was round, stretched skins wrapped tightly around stakes driven into the ground. It was so tall that a man could walk upright under it. The roof was rapidly taking shape as humans bustled around, setting up camp in a familiar rhythm. The roof was made of more skins and blankets. Richly woven and heavy, they would keep out even the smallest sliver of light. The tent flap was thrown open and a human woman stepped out.

  “Tend to her,” the man carrying her said. He stepped inside the tent and put Saraal on the ground. “Wash her and find some new clothes. She won’t need much to heal, just some blood. You or one of the girls may give it to her. She is a child of Jun.”

  The human nodded with respect. “I will feed her my own blood, Master.”

  Aday lay next to her and stroked her back. Saraal sighed and said, “Should I run now, Aday?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Tell me if I need to, please. I’m going to sleep now.”

  “Stay awake for a while longer. Feed from the woman, so you can be strong.”

  “Should I kill her?”

  “No.”

  A pair of knees hit the floor in front of her face.

  “Listen to me,” the dark-eyed Sida said. “I have let you shelter in my tent. My humans will feed you. You will not kill any of them. They are my property, not yours. Do you understand?”

  His hand reached over and tugged her short hair. Saraal hissed and he let go, but he still glared at her.

  “I know you’re mad, but do you understand me at all?”

  Saraal curled her lip, revealing a vicious fang.

  The other man was standing at the tent flap. “I don’t trust her. She needs to be guarded.”

  “I think if we feed her, she’ll become more lucid. She’s barely conscious right now.”

  Aday stretched out on the ground and threw an arm around Saraal’s waist. “We’re not mad. Why can’t they see that? There’s a difference between madness and anger.”

  “Put a guard on her, Temur. Or put her in the ground.”

  Saraal screamed and rolled away. She felt her body leave the ground as she scrambled to move away from the man called Temur. She had to get away. Far away. Away from the ground. Into the air where she could dissolve into darkness. If she could only become nothing, perhaps they would leave her alone. Perhaps—

  “Stop!”

  Four hands pulled her down from the corner of the tent, where she was trying to tear through the skins. They pushed her down to the ground, holding her arms and legs. The screams froze in her throat. Saraal let her body go dead. She let her limbs fall still. Then she closed her eyes and turned her head to the side, spreading her legs to that it would be over more quickly.

  The man who’d been standing by the tent flap grunted. “I think we know one of the things they did to her.”

  “Are you surprised?”

  “No.”

  “Obviously, they buried her, too. My guess is that is what caused this. So let’s not mention the ground again. Eh, Roshan?”

  The man’s voice dropped. “She’s powerful. Do you feel it? Even in her condition—”

  “I know.”

  They slowly let go of her arms and ankles, and Saraal curled into a ball again. Safe. She went to the black sky in her mind and flew, humming a tune her grandmother had taught her.

  A soft hand stroked her head. “Girl, we will not bury you.”

  She rocked back and forth, and Aday sang along with her.

  “Do you understand?”

  She felt a wrist pressed to her mouth. She didn’t think; she just opened her mouth and drank.

  Sweet, sweet, sweet. Sweeter than Kuluun’s woman, even.

  Someone pinched her nose and pulled her away from the wrist.

  Saraal gave into her instincts and slept.

  When she woke, the tent was empty. She was healed. Her hair was clean and her clothes were fresh. She looked down at herself, barely recognizing what she could see. She opened her senses, but she couldn’t hear Aday anywhere.

  The tent flap was partially open, letting fresh air invade the stuffy shelter. Saraal crept closer and peeked out.

  Half the camp was gone. Tents burned. Animal and human bodies scattered. A huge fire was burning in the cooking pit. Though she smelled humans around, she did not hear any screaming. Voices drifted from around the fire, so she crept closer, staying in the deep shadows. The moon was full and the air smelled of smoke, roasted meat, and blood.

  “—too much attention. Our father is not pleased.”

  “What does he care if the humans die?”

  Kuluun was still alive, but clearly was being questioned by the Sida called Temur. Saraal recognized him now. He was the other Sida who had been there the night Jun had sired her. He’d been there, but had left with Jun. Years had passed, but now Temur was back. And Saraal could hear the anxiety in Kuluun’s voice. He was trying to mask it with arrogance, but she could hear through it.

  “Jun doesn’t care about the humans. He cares about discretion. You have become a terror over these plains. Stories spread. They spread about the god who flies, burns villages, and steals food. They spread along the trade routes where they meet stories of a god in the west who commands fire from heaven. Do you want this god to hear of us?”

  “Who are we to fear some myth from the west?” Kuluun scoffed.

  Temur’s voice rose. “Are you so stupid you think we are the only of our kind? Jun commands this place, yes. But there are others, Kuluun. I have seen this Sida from the west, and he is frightening to behold. You kill with a sword, but this immortal kills with fire from his hands. He and Jun avoid each other, and you are testing your father’s patience with your actions.”

  Saraal heard a low murmur and realized that many other Sida were also listening. She peeked around the corner of the tent and saw Kuluun and Temur staring at each other from across the fire. Kuluun’s sons stood at his back, but Temur had his own men, and they looked far more dangerous. Saraal also noticed that many of Kuluun’s sons were gone. Where there had been thirty or forty before, no more than a dozen joined him now.

  Had they fled? Or had something else happened to them?

  She allowed herself to drift on the edge of the gathering. Unfortunately, Temur must have caught her scent.

  “And what have you done to the woman?”

  Kuluun p
uffed up his chest. “What do you care what I do to my woman?”

  The crowd had parted when Temur’s eyes landed on her. Saraal tried to run, but the man from Temur’s tent, Roshan, was there. He must have been able to fly, because he appeared out of nowhere to block her escape.

  “You’ve driven her mad, you idiot. Jun’s child. You told Jun you wanted a woman. He gave you one. He made an immortal for you, and you have driven her to madness with your cruelty. Humans are one thing, Kuluun, but she is a Sida. Not a human for you to play with.”

  Kuluun’s eyes narrowed on her. “What has she said to you? Saraal lies. Constantly.”

  “She says nothing. She talks to herself. She laughs at nothing and bites like an animal.”

  “She is my woman. It’s none of your concern.”

  Rashon herded her to the edge of the fire. Kuluun’s eyes found hers, and Saraal curled her lip.

  Temur laughed. “Yes, she’s obviously your woman! Well done, Kuluun.”

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  Rashon released her arm, but stood behind her, clearly prepared to grab her again. Now that she was closer, she could see that Kuluun and Temur where not talking. Kuluun was bound and two of Temur’s guards stood behind him. His sons were pale and frightened, their eyes darting between their sire and the new Sida with the powerful energy and the longer sword. Temur was as tall as Kuluun, but leaner. His figure was striking and Saraal saw the human women who remained eyeing him appreciatively, so she guessed they considered him handsome. To Saraal, he exuded a threatening power.

  “I’m not going to do anything to you, Kuluun.” Temur stepped around the fire, eyes fixed on his brother, and a smile curled the corner of his mouth. “I promised Jun that I’d do nothing to you without consulting him. And he is away in the east somewhere. I have no idea when I will see him again. So, Kuluun, I may have killed your children. I may have burned your camp. But I will do nothing to you.”

  Then Temur’s gaze left Kuluun and swung over to Saraal. He nodded once and she felt a weapon pressed to her side. She turned, and Roshan met her eyes. He said nothing, but pulled out her hand and slapped the handle of a bronze blade into her palm. Then he closed her fingers around the hilt and stepped back.