by Dylan Doose
Something rustled in the bush not far off from where they stood.
“Shh,” Eona whispered.
Black Feather was about to protest but Eona put her finger to his lips and shifted her eyes to the scrub at his back. He fell silent and still, understanding her movements. Very slowly she pulled her hand from his face and lowered it toward the spear; just as slowly Black Feather raised the weapon to her grasp.
She saw the beast.
The colossal serpent.
Its red eyes were what gave it away, for the deep green hue of its scales was nearly identical to that of the shadowed plants beneath the jungle canopy. The snake’s head was elevated from its half-coiled body and it undulated side to side with a hypnotic sway, its tongue darting in and out of its mouth, tasting the air .
Eona had seen its like before. She had killed its like before. She would only have an instant to take action, to make the right sequence of choices that would save her and Black Feather’s lives. They could not run. It would catch them .
She slid her foot behind her lover’s.
The serpent tensed.
Her shoulder thrust into his chest, her other arm leveled the spear.
The serpent sprang, its maw open, a flash of teeth.
Black Feather fell .
The pinnacle of the instant had come; the spec of time on which her past, her future, everything she was and would ever become would be decided.
Lightning and fire ignited in her muscles and with honed efficiency and speed to equal the snake’s, she hurled the spear down its open mouth. The serpent had lunged with so much force that the forward momentum kept it coming. Eona followed through with the motion of her throw and dipped her shoulder just low enough for the beast to go diving past her, into the water.
The razor sharp black-stone head of her spear had gone straight through the creature and now impaled a tree, the hilt vibrating. She ran to pull it free as the serpent thrashed and hissed in the water.
She grabbed hold of the blood slick shaft and yanked. Black Feather was on his feet, a large stone from the riverbed in his powerful hands. The snake slithered from water churning red with its blood and struggled across the stone beach toward Eona .
Black Feather leaped upon it, bringing the stone down on its back again and again, nimble as he avoided the powerful jaws that sought to trap him. The head turned, but before it could bite down on Black Feather’s throat, Eona skewered it through the top of the skull, through the lower jaw and back into the body, pinning it to the beach.
Black Feather stared, wide-eyed into the open mouth of the serpent, venom dripping with blood from its fangs.
“I think you should keep the spear,” he said with a grin .
It was a far walk and a steep hike to return to the top of the waterfall so they could follow the river back home, but it was worth it .
“I’m not sure it was worth it,” Black Feather said from behind her, panting.
She spun around, her teeth bared, eyes wide .
“What did you just say?” Eona asked.
Black Feather nearly dropped the half of the giant snake corpse he was carrying over his broad shoulders.
“No, no,” Black Feather began. “Your love, it was worth it.” She turned to face forward once more and rolled her eyes as he continued. “I meant maybe we should have just come back empty handed and taken the chief’s scolding. This snake is heavy as stone. Its meat will be leathery and sour. No one will want to eat it anyway.”
Yeah, you’ll be the first one lining up for snake stew. “That’s enough, Black Feather. We are almost back… I’ll carry it the rest of the way if you truly feel you cannot,” Eona offered, knowing he would not stoop to that .
An immense weight slumped over her shoulders. Cold and damp, and so heavy it nearly caused her to fall forward.
Black Feather stretched out his arms and arced his back next to her .
“You are the greatest woman I have ever known, powerful Eona,” he said grinning.
“And you are the most shameless man I have ever known, dishonorable Black Feather,” Eona said, smiling, and she marched on .
“The black bird needs no shame, no honor, only his wit. That is how the black bird survives the jungle,” Black Feather said catching up to her .
“The black bird is an idiot,” Eona said .
“A loveable idiot?” Black Feather asked.
“A loveable idiot,” Eona answered.
They had set out on their hunt just after sunrise, and just as the sun began to fall they reached the outskirts of home. Somewhere along the path, Black Feather had taken back his half of the snake and her aching shoulders were grateful. She stopped so quickly that Black Feather slammed against her back .
“Did you hear that?” she asked in a hush, an eerie cry blending with her words. Another cry, frantic, carried on the heels of the first.
Eona threw the corpse of the snake from off her back and took off sprinting.
“Run,” she called over her shoulder, but Black Feather was already running at her side .
They were both exhausted; they had been drinking from the river but had not eaten since morning. Their muscles ached, but their people were in danger so they flew faster than they had all day. Instinct and adrenaline saw them nimbly dance and leap over nearly unseen obstacles. They were children of the jungle; they lived and breathed with it. They shared one pulse, so, like water, they flowed through it .
Eona saw the red of blazing flame, far too large to be the central flame of their community before she could make out anything else. She ran toward it .
The screams of her people grew louder, matched by a noise both unfamiliar and terrifying. Croaking. Grunting. The slap of wet feet .
Eona and Black Feather were nearly in the small clearing where their village lay, strides away when she saw it. She fought down the part of her that whispered, “Turn back .”
The thing before her stood up on two legs like a man, but those legs belonged to no man. The joints bent at odd angles, the muscles bulged beneath green scales so dark they were almost black. She opened her mouth to breathe, for the stink of a dead carcass rotting on the river’s bank was stronger than anything she had ever smelled. Two arms ended in clawed four-fingered hands that clutched a three-pronged spear.
The head turned toward her and her breath caught; her heart stopped. It was a thing of horror, with a large under-bite of razor teeth, round glowing yellow eyes with long black slits through the centers bulging on either side of its fish-like head .
Those eyes fixed on her .
“Eona!” Black Feather yelled and tossed her the spear, for she was closer to the fiend.
Her disgust, her fear, her uncertainty did not slow her actions.
The creature’s mouth opened and closed as it advanced in a low, cautious stance.
As she always did, as was her nature, Eona charged.
Waiting gets you killed .
The thing was not nearly as fast as the serpent from that morning. So her spear was through its open mouth and into its brain before it had the chance to attack. Blood, a dark bluish color, ran from the wounds. Black Feather lifted the creature’s fallen trident and they ran forward from the jungle’s shadow.
All around them their tribe was being butchered, one of the creatures dragging a man along the ground. Only it was not a man, but rather two legs and half a torso. A pack of the things knelt over a corpse, tearing away fistfuls of meat and shoving it in their mouths while their comrades continued the killing.
Anger and terror twisted into a roiling storm in her gut. A child screamed and she whirled to see him lifted into the air, impaled on a trident.
The creature froze, yellow eyes bulging. Its skull exploded as a wooden sword with obsidian shards forming the blades came down upon it. The Guide stood over the beast as it fell. His hair was white despite his youth, now streaked with red blood mixed with the blue of the creature’s ichor.
The child was dead and the Gui
de paused only long enough to removed his body from the impaling spikes and set it aside, away from the carnage.
Then he turned to face Eona, expression blank.
“Eona! Black Feather!” he called to them. “Run .”
Eona shook her head, spear in hand .
“Run, so you may survive and avenge us!” Then he turned and swung his sword at two more foes. The first died, split in two. The second stumbled backward with a partially severed arm flopping about as blood spurted through the air .
It feels pain, and I bet fear, too .
Eona leaped forward and plunged her spear through its heart.
“We’ll not leave you!” Black Feather cried and charged another of the monsters. Eona went with him. The thing swung its cudgel formed of twisted shells at Eona’s head, narrowly grazing her temple as she ducked and tilted away .
Death’s caress brushed so close.
Her spear came up and went into the creature’s belly. Black Feather struck from up high and rammed the trident into the thing’s head, the middle prong sticking it right through the eye .
Eona pulled her spear free. Black Feather let go of the trident and lifted the cudgel of hard twisted shell.
A young girl ran toward them, Tepin, the healer’s daughter. She was not screaming, and her expression was one of determination more than fear. The blood and dirt on her face were untouched by tears. The green-scaled fiends were at her back, tridents and shell cudgels brandished in immense fists, mouths hanging slack, jaws swaying, fangs exposed.
“To me, little one, to me!” Eona yelled.
Black Feather screamed like the black bird and ran faster than Eona had ever seen him run. He got ahead of her and leaped over Tepin’s head. The girl looked back at the horde closing on her .
“Look at me, Tepin,” Eona said. “Look at me .”
Tepin did as was asked of her .
Eona threw her spear. It whistled past Black Feather’s shoulder, so close his headdress ruffled. It impaled her foe, the handle vibrating. Black Feather soared again, this time over the falling corpse, to create another as he brought his cudgel down onto the closest skull.
Tepin slid and reached Eona’s feet, her little hands slapping onto Eona’s thighs as the two made impact, but before the girl could fall Eona hoisted her back up and held her by the hand .
“Keep your eyes on my back, do you understand?” Eona said, looking that brave, beautiful little girl right in her eyes .
“Yes, Eona. I understand.” She said, nodding; her voice did not tremble. Her gaze was calm. “I will do as you ask, but I am not afraid of death.”
Also by Dylan Doose
Sword and Sorcery:
Fire and Sword (Volume 1)
Catacombs of Times (Volume 2)
I Remember My First Time (A Sword and Sorcery short story; can be read at any point in the series)
The Pyres (Volume 3)
Ice and Stone (Volume 4)
As They Burn (Volume 5)
Black Sun Moon (Volume 6)
For info, excerpts, contests and more, join Dylan’s Reader Group !
Website: www.DylanDooseAuthor.com
About the Author
Writer. Sculptor. Bad fitness advice. In between writing books Dylan Doose fills his not-so-busy schedule with the practising of martial arts, mountain biking, paddle surfing, weight lifting, and of course HBO, PS4 and increasing the size of his beloved personal library. Fire and Sword was chosen as a Shelf Unbound Notable 100 for 2015.
For info, excerpts, contests and more, join Dylan’s Reader Group!
photo credit: Shanon Fujioka
For more information:
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