However, it was precisely that story which had been the source of many of Malka’s doubts. It had never made sense to her that a deity from their religious pantheon would have condoned the thieves’ actions in such a specific way. Or, that a goddess would have suddenly professed a vendetta with the fabled Shadow Warriors. Why would such a divine power suddenly develop an obsession with material objects? Malka had wondered.
At the same time, she couldn’t dismiss the tale as a complete fabrication. Simple thieves would not have needed to create a justification for their actions, except maybe to cement internal cohesion. But, she did not see how creating that specific myth would serve such a function; it would necessarily mean that those who created it knew it was not true. And so, she had forced herself to believe.
“Good,” the Master said, jolting Malka out of her reflection. She looked up at him.
“There is more to that story,” Husain continued at length. “A continuation which is rarely told among the Thags. It has been forbidden for most of our history.”
At this, Malka furrowed her brow, cocking her head to one side.
“What does it say?” Malka asked, now seeming less nervous and genuinely curious.
“I believe it better that I not share its contents with you, at least for now,” her Master told her.
“Oh, I see.” The girl allowed her shoulders to slump.
Husain observed her reaction, then continued. “I will attempt to help you to answer the questions you are asking with some of my own. Tell me, Malka, why do you think that the Black Goddess commanded us to collect these objects?”
“To keep them from the Urumi.” It was practically a pre-memorized response, one of which she was not convinced. She’d never seen or heard of any indication that another force – let alone those Shadow Warriors of myth – sought after the objects that the Thags pillaged.
“Why?” Husain asked, seeming to mirror her thoughts. “What use would She or the Urumi have for the offerings we bring Her? What reason have we to think that Shakti should want them at all?”
“S-he doesn’t. They don’t.” Malka looked nervously at her Master. Instead of taking issue with her bold claim, he motioned for her to speak farther. “She doesn’t need them,” Malka said again, her eyes getting wide with realization as she formed the words. “She is looking for something. Hoping She finds it in the items we bring back!”
Without giving any sign to either confirm or deny what his pupil had just said, her Master asked another question. “And, why do you think a deity of Her virtue would choose a band of thieves to carry out Her bidding?”
Malka remained silent for a moment, considering her response. She was not used to hearing Husain speak of the purpose of the Thags as anything but righteous.
“The Shadow Warriors. They’re after the same thing. So, She couldn’t just send monks from her temples looking for it; no one can know why we really collect these objects. If the Urumi found out, they would watch us more closely. The theft is our protection. We have to maintain absolute secrecy. And that means….”
She had begun to speak faster as the line of reasoning formed in her head, stopping as a last, unfortunate realization formed in her mind seconds before it came out of her mouth. “That means we must kill those who we take from.”
Again offering nothing in the way of confirmation, Husain walked back in the direction of the camp.
Malka thought about telling Mira and some of the others about her thoughts, but decided against it almost immediately. The blue-eyed girl suspected she knew why her Master had asked only the questions he had and allowed her to answer in the way she did while at the edge of the camp and in English. Voicing such opinions would have sparked, at most, a heated discussion if aired by practically anyone else in the camp. Yet, it would call her loyalties into further question if she were to do so.
Walking beside her Master, she asked him one final question.
“How long will it take before I’m considered as one of you? Deserving of the same trust?”
Husain stopped and turned to her.
“Malka, I have no doubt that you one day will become a Thag – allowed to quest for Shakti. But truly one of us? No, Malka. You will always be a product of our camp and those on the other side of those trees. In many ways, Malka, you are of two worlds. Those two worlds can never be fit back into one.”
Ever since, those were the words that came into Malka’s head whenever she thought of herself in relation to those around her.
***
The Thag turned, seeing what had pulled on her shoulder.
Liza, having again taken the form of the young black-haired woman, crouched behind her with an annoyed grimace on her face.
“Don’t even think about it, Malka,” she whispered in a tone of mild exasperation. “It’s none of our business. And, in case you forgot, we have enough problems of our own at the moment. Like, you know, protecting one of the most powerful objects on the planet?”
Malka simply turned and stared at her.
“When has this ever been about ‘We’?” Malka responded under her breath, causing Liza to roll her eyes and let out a sharp breath.
The Thag focused her senses, using her ears to ascertain her opponents’ locations so as to most effectively strike.
“I mean it, Malka. This is really, really a bad idea,” Liza whispered behind her.
The disciple of the Thag’s leader said nothing. She coiled her body further. Then, she sprung.
“Malka?... Malka!” Liza whispered in tones that carried an increasing tenor of warning as the Thag moved forward. Then, the felinoid briefly directed her eyes upward and let out an exasperated sigh.
***
The Thag leaped, confirming while in midair that her senses had been spot on. There were a total of four men left conscious. Three of them were standing in a semicircle. Their firearms were pointed at the fourth, who was still on horseback.
The nearest to her line of attack had his back completely turned to Malka, effectively shielding one of the others, directly opposite him.
The blue-eyed thief swung the weighted end of her sash into her opposite hand and raised it over her head, as her trajectory brought her near her target. She flung the brass-heavy end of her weapon such that it wrapped itself around the man’s neck. She pulled, bringing the sash taut. The sudden anchorage slowed her momentum, while making the first of her targets fall to the ground with her.
As her feet made contact with the ground, Malka’s free hand moved to the dagger in her boot. Continuing to keep the sash taut, she followed through with her momentum, using her free hand to throw the blade toward the assailant standing opposite the man she had just taken to ground. It struck the center of his chest up to the hilt, knocking him, gurgling, to the ground before he could re-aim his rifle.
Malka paused secondarily, looking up just in time to see the third man pointing the barrel of a gun toward her. She moved toward the man she had caught in the grip of her sash, hoping she could find some way to use him as a shield in time. But, he was still writhing. In more ways than one, Malka bitterly reflected, she would have to stop his motions before she could use his corpse for protection.
Then, in a blur of motion, Liza was upon the third assailant. The felinoid knocked him to the ground, then proceeded to tear at his throat, causing him to emit at first screams, then moans. And finally, nothing.
The Thag turned her attention back to the man she had captured in the grip of her sash. She wrapped a free length of its fabric around the man’s neck and pulled in the manner she had been taught. The man’s struggles grew more frantic, then faded.
Malka watched as the life drained from his eyes until he lay still.
With no time to reflect on what she had done, Malka turned her attention to the figure on the horse. There was still one more target to face.
He sat on his mount, his expression conveying both distress at his circumstances and shock at what he had just seen. He appeared to be a coup
le of years younger than Malka. His mouth, at first a grimace of fear, morphed into a gape of shock and then began moving in some attempt to make verbal sense of the situation.
Malka, trying not to think of her deeds, decided he was not an immediate threat and moved to take inventory of any valuable object on those she had taken down.
“M...My...My God!” the light brown-haired youth began. “Thank you! What you just did…. When they ambushed us out here, I didn’t know what to do.” A darker expression crossed his face as he realized that both Malka and Liza ignored him. The felinoid, still in her human form, was busy licking her hands clean of blood.
“Um...do you think you could check on my parents? It looks like they got shot really bad,” he continued, increasing uncertainty again creeping into his voice.
Sighing sharply, Malka moved toward the bodies of the older man and woman.
“Both dead,” she rasped in a rushed manner, as if irritated. Then the half-Indian moved towards the horses and began to rummage through the pack attached to them for supplies.
That was when she heard Liza, who had apparently finished her grooming regimen.
“Malka! What the hell was that? On a scale of one to ten, where one is mildly impulsive and ten is unbelievably stupid, I’d say you approached a solid nine with that stunt. Congratulations are in order. I make it a habit to never give anything a ten.”
Malka attempted to ignore Liza’s rebuke of her actions. Eventually, almost under her breath, she said, “If you have a place that you would rather be, go.”
“Oh, believe me, I do and I would. Except I can’t. Like I already told you, I work for Arunesh and Zitar; I have to stay here to protect you and the Fragment and I’m hoping you can guess how pulling stunts like the one you just did doesn’t exactly make that job any easier. Apparently now, I get to clean up this mess you created. Yay!”
“Fragment? Mess?” Malka’s voice was almost flat with disbelief as she rummaged through the supplies.
“The, err, object,” the black-haired girl clarified, not wanting to be too specific in the presence of a third party. “And mess. As in, oh, for example….” The erstwhile feline sounded positively annoyed now. “The five dead corpses lying at our feet? The blood all over the ground? With evidence of a scuffle, do you think that law enforcement isn’t going to come after us?” The black-haired girl paused for a second, then raised her arm to one side, pointing a finger at the young man on the horse, whose lightly freckled face regarded them with increasing alarm. “And what do suggest we do with him?”
Both young women turned from each other to regard the individual in question.
“Um...ladies?” Lanky and thin, but not scrawny, the youth ventured with plaintive uncertainty. “I can see that you’re, um, having a difference of opinion. But, I mean, my parents have just been killed. Thanks for saving me. But, is there any chance you could take me to the nearest town, so I can see they get a decent burial?”
“No,” Malka said in a monotone voice. She began to hitch his horse to the one standing directly in front.
“Hey! Wha...what are you doing?”
The Thag ignored him.
“Ugh!” Liza exclaimed, throwing up her arms in exasperation at the entire situation. “What does it look like she’s doing?”
Even in his dazed state the realization dawned in him: “Wait!” he yelled with increasing incredulousness. “You just killed those horse thieves so you could steal them yourselves?” He began to dismount from his horse.
Malka lashed out with the weighted edge of her sash, wrapping it around his left arm. She yanked back suddenly. With a yelp of pain, he fell from the animal. As he did so, she noticed his blue irises; she realized that her past and actions had consigned her to this outcome in more ways than one.
She stepped a few paces toward him. Then untangled her sash from his arm, allowing him to rub his strained shoulder with his opposite hand. Almost immediately, he attempted to get up, as if preparing to rush her. Malka responded easily. Pivoting to the side, she grabbed his nearer upper arm, using his own momentum to send him sprawling face first back toward the ground.
“Yes. I did.”
“But!” He paused for fraction of a minute, attempting to reorient himself into a sitting position as he processed his situation. “But what about me?”
“Yes, Malka. What about him?” Liza asked wryly.
Malka regarded him for a moment. Then she reached a decision.
“We shall take him with us.”
“What?” Both Liza and the now horseless boy yelled in unison.
“We are taking him with us,” Malka said again, though she did not do so with any measure of confidence. With the heat of the moment wearing off, realization of what she had done was beginning to sink in.
“Taking me where?”
“Why the hell would we do that?”
“What would you suggest?” Malka’s query carried a biting tone.
“You got us into this. Kill him. That way we can be sure he won’t escape and warn others.
“No.”
“Malka, it’s the most secure way.”
“No. I won’t.”
For a moment, it looked as if Liza were considering taking matters into her own hands. Then she relented, at least from her current line of interrogation.
“Okay. So, let’s take stock of our situation. You stopped to take down a tactically and numerically superior force with roughly zero plan. The Shadow Warriors are still following us and we now have an extra liability that could betray us. Let me think, what did this even get us?”
“We have provisions. And horses.”
“Really? Great. And what good will they do us? Where will we go with them?” Liza let out a short laugh.
“You don’t even have a plan.”
Malka turned away, staring into the sky.
“What if I don’t?”
“So what’s your endgame, Malka? If you don’t have one, I guarantee the Urumi do.” The felinoid threw up her hands again in exasperation before yelling, “In case you haven’t noticed, Malka, this is serious!”
“In case I have not noticed?” Malka turned back at her, her voice quiet. When she spoke again, a soft tremble could be heard in it. “I have lost almost everyone I have ever known because of this. I either led them to their deaths, or had to leave them behind. You think I do not know this is serious? I have walked through the desert for weeks. I have killed for the first time in my life.
“Right now, I just want to collapse in a heap. How can you say I am not serious?”
“Malka…,” Liza’s mien seemed to soften for a bit as she looked downward, considering how to phrase her rebuttal. “Malka, I know you aren’t exactly going through easy times. But since we arrived in San Francisco, it’s like you’re not even thinking about the future.”
Malka looked at the ground, her shoulders seeming to slouch. She moved to the boulders that she had used to cover her attack only a few moments ago, sagging against them. Eventually she sighed.
“You know? What could you know about my life?” Malka kept her voice soft, but a hint of challenge could be heard in it. She phrased the last question as if passing judgment.
Liza opened her mouth, but Malka didn’t wait for her to respond.
“We shall go that way,” the dark-skinned girl stated. She stood up abruptly, pointing towards the lower of the two mountain ranges, which lay in a southeasterly direction.
“Do you even know what will happen if we keep going south?” Liza asked in a condescending tone.
“No.”
“Then why are you going there?”
“Do you have a better idea?” Malka challenged.
Again, Liza opened her mouth to respond.
“Umm...ladies,” the boy said. “The Mexican border is south of here if you go far enough, but cross over those mountains and you’re in Death Valley. It’s winter. But it’s still really desolate out there no matter what time of year it is,” he said,
directing his attention mostly at Malka. “I can see how an Indian like you, from some other parts, might not know. I hope you’ll take some friendly advice. Northeast, through the canyon, is best if you want to get out of the area with no trouble. You can leave me near Independence or Bishop on your way. Just please let me go.”
“No,” Malka said, walking towards him.
“Why not? I don’t understand. I have nothing left you could want.”
“Get up,” she told him. “Get back on the horse.”
When he hesitated, she pointed her now-bloodied dagger at him, as if about to throw it at close range.
“Okay. All right.” As he climbed back up on his mount, he whined, “Why are you doing this?”
Malka hesitated as she waited for him to settle into the saddle. Once he had, she moved to tie him to its strappings.
“I saved your life. You are now indebted to me.”
“What! For how long?” he exclaimed.
“Until death or until you save mine,” Malka responded matter-of-factly.
“Look. I don’t know how you people do things. But...um, this is America now. It’s been that way since before you were born and we don’t….”
“Shut up!” both Liza and Malka yelled in annoyance.
“I do not care how you do things,” the Thag clarified.
“And if we’d done things my way you’d be either dead, horseless, or both now. You could at least be grateful,” Liza added.
“You are coming with us.”
The youth pulled on his bindings, then, finding them tight, he seemed to resign himself, at least for now, to his fate.
Outcast: Keepers of the Stone Book One (An Historical Epic Fantasy Adventure) Page 13
