Legends of the Saloli: Approaching Storm

by Adam Bolander

  “Faith, what’s going on?” Blaze asked, confused.

  “I’ve decided to give you a choice,” said Faith, “The choice of whether or not to return to the human world. You’ve kept your promise. By saving Rust, you saved Icefire. And now I intend to keep mine, but only if you wish to go back.”

  Blaze closed his eyes to think. If he wanted to go back, this might be his last chance. Who knew what was coming now that Goliath had made his intentions clear? The same thought came to him now that he had thought when he had first been transformed: could he really abandon these creatures in their time of need? Especially now that he was one of them? Especially now that he had made friends with them, fought with them. . . maybe even fallen in love with one of them?

  “No,” he said finally.

  Faith seemed surprised, “You don’t want to go back to your previous life?”

  “I do,” Blaze answered, “but I can’t do that with a clear conscience. Not yet. Not until I’m sure that Icefire is safe.”

  “How do you know that we are not?”

  “Didn’t you listen to Goliath? He isn’t done yet. He’s coming back, and I’m going to be here waiting for him.”

  “Is that all?” Faith asked suspiciously.

  “Okay, I also can’t leave while Razor is alive. He killed my mentor, and he’s going to pay for it.”

  “Revenge, then?” A disapproving gleam in her eye showed what she thought of this.

  “Part of it, yes. But mostly because I don’t want to see what happened to Slicer happen to...” again the image of Sunbeam with her throat torn open flashed into his mind, “other saloli.”

  Faith nodded, “A worthy reason if I’ve ever heard one.” She approved.

  As the two of them made their way back to camp, Blaze began to think about his mother. He had promised her that he would come back, but would he be able to keep that promise? Faith had been right, there was a war coming, and he had every intention of fighting in it. There was more than a possibility of death involved, but he found that he didn’t care. Anything to protect Icefire. And Sunbeam. Entering the camp, Blaze looked around at all the saloli doing their duties for the tribe. This was his family, at least for now. This was his home. This was his life.

  And it wasn’t a bad one.

  <><><><><>

  Goliath stalked back and forth before his army. This was not how he had planned everything. Razor was supposed to kill Rust, and Icefire was supposed to be under his control right now. He glared at the pathetic failure. It was only because he was still of some use to him that he wasn’t dead. The coward cringed in fear when he saw the look in Goliath’s eyes.

  “Well,” the giant asked, “what do you have to say for yourself?”

  “Words can’t describe how sorry I am for my failure, my chief,” Razor spouted immediately, obviously having practiced his speech beforehand, “Please forgive me, allow me to live so that I might make up for my mistake!”

  “Oh, I’ll let you live, Razor. You know Icefire inside and out, and that is information I can use. You will remain alive, but for that purpose alone.”

  “Thank you, my chief! Thank you!”

  “And as for you,” Goliath snarled, turning on Ratty, “Why is it that you didn’t kill Faith like I had ordered you to do?”

  “W-well, it’s because I saw Razor in trouble, and I thought I should save him!” Ratty stuttered, trembling before his chief’s wrath.

  “Liar! You were simply too much of a coward to do what needed to be done. You were afraid of what she would do had you failed. Now answer me this, how am I going to achieve my goals, no, our goals, with such pathetic saloli like you under my command?”

  “Perhaps you need some more. . . competent help,” a voice said from behind him.

  Goliath spun around to see who had managed to infiltrate his camp. A wicked smile crossed his face, “Mordred,” he growled happily.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Thunder crashed and lightning lit the night sky as bright as daytime. Rain pelted everything in sight with water that felt like pebbles falling out of the clouds. The army of Darkcover was massing around their chief’s personal tree like piranha around a bleeding corpse. Goliath stood on the uppermost branch, looking down at them. Razor, Ratty, and Mordred, whose eyes gleamed white and pupil-less, stood with him.

  “Silence!” Goliath’s voice boomed down at his tribe. Darkcover immediately became quiet. “Today, our victory has been put into our paws! I have here with me a new member of our great tribe. He is a saloli of great power, power that will give us a vast advantage in this war. Mordred, come forward!”

  The white-eyed saloli made his way to Goliath’s side, his eyes seeing nothing. Mordred was completely blind, but that did not make him helpless. In fact, he was anything but, “Thank you, Goliath,” He said, his voice like sliding gravel, “It is my honor to fight beside Darkcover for so worthy a cause.”

  “What kind of power do you have?” A saloli on the ground challenged him, “Prove yourself!”

  Mordred cast a blind glance in the challenger’s general direction, and a bolt of lightning flashed out of the sky, incinerating the saloli immediately. Darkcover screamed and scrambled for cover, each fearing he or she would be next. Mordred simply smiled.

  “It’s things like that that make me wish I had my sight.”

  Goliath grinned wickedly. With this saloli on his side, he was unstoppable.

  <><><><><>

  “Blaze, you will face much hardship soon, but you must not fall,” Slicer gasped, struggling to breathe, “Blaze, the Sword will win the war!”

  “Slicer!” Blaze shouted, opening his eyes and scrambling to his paws. He quickly searched everywhere around him, looking for his former mentor. It took him a minute to remember that he wouldn’t find him here, or anywhere else, ever again. He was dead. It had been almost two weeks since he had heard those words. He still did not know what they meant.

  “Blaze?” Smallthorn asked drowsily, blinking to clear his eyes, “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. It was nothing,” Blaze answered.

  Smallthorn looked at him with concern, “Was it the nightmare again?”

  “Yeah. I keep hearing the last thing that Slicer told me.”

  “Have you figured out what he meant yet?” Blaze had only told Smallthorn the first part of what Slicer had said, the part about the Sword he kept secret. Blaze shook his head, “Well, we aren’t going to figure it out by thinking about it now,” Smallthorn decided, laying his head back down, “It’s still two hours till sunrise. Go back to sleep.”

  Laying back down, Blaze tried to take his friend’s advice, but couldn’t. Whenever he closed his eyes, the image of Slicer’s bloody, dying body would fill his mind. After twenty more minutes, he finally gave up and, stepping over his sleeping friend, made his way down the tree. On the ground, he walked slowly across the camp, trying to take his mind off of his deceased mentor.

  “Are you all right?” a voice behind him asked. Blaze spun around, unaware that there was anyone else awake besides him. Newthorn stood there, a worried expression on her face.

  “What are you doing up?” he asked.

  “I just got back from a patrol. Rust has been ordering twice as many ever since Goliath showed himself. He’s worried.”

  As he should be, Blaze thought.

  “And I could ask the same thing about you,” Newthorn added. Blaze hadn’t confided in her like he had her mate, so she didn’t know he was having nightmares.

  Blaze averted his gaze, “I couldn’t sleep.”

  Newthorn looked at him unbelievingly. “Are you sure that’s all it was? You look upset about something. Is something wrong? If there is, you can tell me, Blaze.”

  No, he couldn’t. Not when Faith herself had said not to, “I’m fine.” He insisted.

  “Well, if you’re sure,” Newthorn said, hesitantly, “Good night then.” With that she turned and scampered off in the direction of the common’s tree.


  <><><><><>

  “I had the nightmare again last night,” Blaze said. It was noon, and he had decided to tell Faith about his problem.

  “Dreams can very often be signs from Valde Abbas,” Faith mused, “If you are really having them as often as you say, then that might be exactly what it is.”

  “What do you think he’s trying to tell me?”

  Faith did not hesitate with her answer, “To find the sword. One thing we know for sure is that there is a war coming, there’s nothing we can do about that now. The only thing we can do is prepare for it, and he is obviously telling us the best way to do that is to find this sword.”

  “But saloli can’t use swords, can they?” Blaze pointed out, “They don’t have hands.”

  “That’s what has me confused.” Faith agreed, “I have no idea what they want us to do.”

  “How do you even know what a sword is, anyway?”

  “That is a story for another day. It will take too long to tell right now, and, if I’m not mistaken, you have work to do.”

  “Yeah. I’d better go. Thanks for listening.”

  “Any time, Blaze, any time.” Faith promised as he turned and raced off. Blaze met up with the group of saloli who were preparing to go on a patrol. Smallthorn was among them.

  “What did Faith say?” he asked as Blaze joined him.

  “She said that Valde Abbas is trying to tell me something,” Blaze answered, “Something about the war.” Again, he left out the part about the Sword.

  “Okay, let’s go!” Gnaw ordered. As the team of saloli left the camp, Gnaw continued, “When we get to the border, half of us go left, half go right! We’ll meet up halfway around.”

  Blaze had learned since the time he joined Icefire that each tribe was named for something that was related to their territory. There was, apparently, a canyon in the Groundsky territory, which was why it was named thus. Nobody knew where Cyclone got its name from. Darkcover got its name because the trees growing on their territory were thick and close together, effectively blocking most of the sun’s rays and leaving the forest floor in perpetual twilight.

  Reaching the border, the group of saloli split up evenly, half going right to patrol the Cyclone border, and the rest going left to check out the Groundsky border. Blaze and Smallthorn went with the left group, along with Gnaw. They walked for almost ten minutes without incident, then, “Hail, Icefire!” A voice shouted from past the border, “Let us come together peacefully and share news!”

  “Ah, just what I wanted,” Gnaw said happily.

  “What’s going on?” Blaze asked as another saloli approached the scent border across from them.

  “An exchange of events,” Smallthorn answered, “If two patrols meet, they are allowed to talk to each other.”

  “What about?”

  “About what’s been happening in both tribes. It’s how we keep up on what’s going on in the forest. But we have to be careful not to reveal too much, or the other tribes might think we’re weak, and that could lead to an attack.”

  The Groundsky patrol was already assembled across the border as the Icefire patrol did the same. A single saloli stood in the front, as the leader. Gnaw took his place across from him.

  “How are you, Moss?” Gnaw asked.

  “Very well. Valde Abbas has provided well for us this summer. How are you, Gnaw?”

  “I wish I could say the same.” Gnaw, answered, “Icefire has had a terrible casualty. You remember Slicer, don’t you?”

  “How could I forget? The scar he gave me still stings occasionally.” He cast a glance at a long, pink scar that ran across his back, left leg. “Don’t tell me he’s dead?”

  “He is. We were betrayed by a tribe member.”

  “Not again!” Moss exclaimed.

  “What does he mean again?” Blaze whispered to his friend.

  “It’s not my place to tell you,” Smallthorn answered, “You’ll have to ask Rust.”

  “It was Razor this time,” Gnaw went on, “he tried to assassinate Rust on the day of the Lord’s Feast while he was praying for the tribe. Slicer intervened, and was killed for it.”

  Moss shook his head sadly, “That’s terrible. And Razor had so much potential. He could have done great things.”

  “That’s not all, though,” Gnaw continued, “You won’t believe who came to Razor’s rescue.”

  Moss’ ears perked up, his interest caught, “Who?”

  “Goliath.” Gnaw answered.

  That one word, alone, seemed to shock Moss more than the rest of the news had, “You don’t mean he’s. . .”

  “Yes. He’s back.” Dread could be seen in his eyes.

  “But he’s supposed to be dead!” Moss argued.

  Blaze blinked in surprise. That was the second time he’d heard that. Goliath obviously had done something before Blaze had become a saloli, something big enough for another tribe to know about it.

  “I’m sure Rust has a good reason he’s still alive,” Gnaw assured the Groundsky saloli, although he didn’t look very sure of it himself, “But his being alive still isn’t the worst part. The worst part of it all is that he seems to have become chief of Darkcover.”

  These words caused the entire Groundsky patrol to break out into nervous muttering. The phrase “Blood Way” could be heard more than once. Blaze could instantly tell that something had happened. Something involving Darkcover, most likely. But what could make a bunch of strong and fully trained saloli like this so frightened?

  “Has something happened?” Gnaw asked suspiciously, obviously sensing the same thing Blaze had.

  “No. Nothing,” Moss answered, a bit too defensively.

  “Moss, these are dangerous times. The tribes may very likely need to rely on each other to deal with this threat.”

  “Why should we fear Darkcover?” Moss snapped, “They are known for having the weakest fighting force of all four tribes!”

  “They are also known for their slyness and cunning,” Gnaw responded, remaining calm, “Brains can easily overtake brawn sometimes.”

  “We have nothing to fear from Darkcover,” Moss insisted, then added threateningly, “Or from Icefire.”

  “Don’t go there, Moss,” Gnaw warned, “You don’t need to make enemies out of two tribes. We should work together to take out Goliath before he does any more damage.”

  “If he does, then the blood be on Icefire’s paws, not ours!” Moss growled menacingly, and then shouted at the patrol, “Move out!”

  Gnaw could only shake his head sadly as he watched the Groundsky patrol go on their way.

  <><><><><>

  “Rawrk!” Talons screeched as he dove for the mouse on the forest floor. Blaze, though being used to this, couldn’t help but flinch as the eagle’s talons caught the tiny rodent, stabbing the life out of it immediately.

  “Treemouse want groundmouse?” the bird asked, landing beside Blaze. He dropped the dead mouse at the saloli’s paws.

  “N-no thanks,” Blaze answered, feeling queasy at the sight. Ever since he had become a saloli, he had found the idea of eating meat sickening.

  “Treemouse need eat meat! Meat make treemouse strong like Talons! Make treemouse fly, rawrk!”

  “I highly doubt that,” Blaze responded.

  “Blaze!” He turned to see Rust calling to him.

  “I’ve got to go, Talons,” he said, “Enjoy your meal.”

  “Red treemouse go do what boss treemouse say!”

  As Blaze scampered away, he could hear the mouse being torn open by the eagle’s sharp beak. Coming to stand beside Rust, he bowed his head in respect. Rust immediately raised his own, exposing his neck, “Blaze, I have something very important to talk to you about,” he said, “Walk with me.” The chief instructed and began walking across the forest, away from Talons “You have been very loyal to Icefire. I was wrong to doubt you, much less accuse you of murdering Seedpicker.”

  “You did what any good chief would do. You saw the evidence that Razor ra
ised and went with it.”

  “Even after what you had told me about him. I was wrong, Blaze, so don’t try to tell me I wasn’t. But that’s not what I’m here to talk to you about. I’m here to ask you to do something for the tribe.”

  “Yes, anything,” Blaze promised.

  “Do not answer this quickly, Blaze, because this could quite possibly be the most important thing you’ll ever do for Icefire. It will definitely be the most responsibility you’ve held yet.”