Legends of the Saloli: Approaching Storm

by Adam Bolander

  “What is it?” Blaze demanded, but Scratch was staring at something slightly to his mentor’s right. Blaze followed his gaze, and gasped. Standing just outside the clearing was a fox.

  “Well, well, well,” she chuckled, “Lookie what we have here! Two saloli instead of just one!”

  It was then that Blaze realized just who this fox was. It was none other than Flame’s mate. The one who had sworn revenge on Blaze. She obviously didn’t recognize him yet, as she was still smiling cruelly, showing off her long canine teeth. She blinked, looking at Blaze.

  “You!” she said suddenly.

  “Um, hi?” Blaze said, timidly. Another fox ran in then.

  “Scarlet!” he barked, “What are you doing here?”

  “Getting my revenge,” the vixen snapped, “I have the one who killed Flame right here.” With that, Scarlet pounced on Blaze. Pinning him down with her paws, she slowly lowered her jaws towards his neck. Opening her mouth, she prepared to bite his throat open. Suddenly, she yelped and reared her head back.

  “You stupid little thing!” she screamed, “Get off of me!”

  She began thrashing her head around, trying to throw something off. Blaze caught sight of something dark red clutching the back of her neck. Scratch! Blaze immediately jumped to his feet and charged at Scarlet, determined to save his trainee. Leaping at the last second, he managed to sink his claws into her snout, making her yip in pain. She swung her head one more time, and Blaze saw a blur of red fur go flying off into the forest. He wanted to go help him, but couldn’t let go of Scarlet’s nose without being hurled away himself. Before he could react, the vixen charged forward, straight into a tree, effectively squashing Blaze in the process. The wind knocked out of him, Blaze lost his grip and fell to the forest floor. Before he could move, Scarlet knelt down and nipped him in the neck, right where the vein was. Blood began pumping out of Blaze’s throat like a fountain.

  “Now,” Scarlet said in triumph, “you will die slowly and agonizingly. A fitting death, wouldn’t you say, Gulp?”

  “Yeah!” the other fox agreed eagerly.

  Then something happened that Blaze could not explain. A tree standing behind Scarlet and Gulp suddenly bent over and grabbed the two foxes with its branches! Their voices resonated through the forest so loudly that they could be heard almost a mile away, then there were two sharp cracks, and the shouting was suddenly cut off. Scratch ran back into the clearing and up to his mentor.

  “Blaze, are you all right?” he asked desperately. He gasped when he saw the cut in Blaze’s throat. For a minute, Blaze thought the young saloli was going to faint, but Scratch just shook his head, grabbed the scruff of Blaze’s neck in his mouth, and began dragging him towards the camp. He was too late, though, Blaze realized. He would bleed to death before Scratch could get back to camp. Already he could feel himself drifting away, getting lighter, losing consciousness. . .

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Is he still asleep?” someone asked. It sounded like Smallthorn.

  “Yes. It may take awhile for him to recover.” That was Faith.

  “It’s been three days already.” Smallthorn again.

  “There is nothing we can do but wait.” Said Faith.

  “But he’s— wait! I think I just saw him move!”

  “You’re right, he’s stirring. Blaze? Blaze, can you hear me?”

  Blaze groaned and opened his eyes to see Faith and Smallthorn both looking at him with intense worry in their eyes. Feeling the rough bark below him, he guessed he was in Faith’s tree. But why? Then he remembered the foxes, Scarlet, the fight, Scratch. . . The tree.

  “How did I survive?” Blaze asked.

  “You were very lucky,” Faith responded, “Scratch met a patrol just leaving the camp. They brought you to me as quickly as they could. They were just in time too. Just a few more minutes and you would have died from blood loss.”

  “But what happened to Scarlet and Gulp?” he asked, finally. Faith and Smallthorn exchanged an ominous glance.

  “That’s the part none of us can figure out,” Smallthorn explained, “Their corpses were found up in a tree, every bone in their bodies broken.”

  Blaze shivered, remembering what it was he had seen. How would he explain it? “Faith? Smallthorn?” he said, tentatively, “I know how that happened. Well, not exactly how, but I saw it happen.”

  “Tell us,” Faith told him.

  “Okay, well, this is going to sound strange, but the tree just reached down and picked them up.”

  Smallthorn and Faith exchanged wide eyed glances before looking back at him, “Don’t joke about things like that, Blaze,” Smallthorn admonished him, solemnly.

  “What? You think I’m kidding?”

  “That could never happen.” The runt insisted.

  “Are you calling me a liar?” Despite his weakness, he felt the fur on his spine bristle.

  “I’m saying that you were hallucinating from blood loss,” Smallthorn explained.

  “It was barely five seconds after Scarlet bit me!” Blaze retorted, “I couldn’t have lost that much blood that soon!”

  “Smallthorn is right, Blaze,” Faith spoke up, “You shouldn’t joke about things like that.”

  Blaze was about to insist that he wasn’t joking, but stopped when he saw Faith’s eyes. They were full of fear and worry. She may have said she didn’t believe him, Blaze realized, but he knew she really did.

  <><><><><>

  “Well, Razor?” Goliath asked, “What do you think?”

  “Goliath, this is. . . wow,” Razor answered, his eyes wide and voice strained from amazement. The two of them, along with Mordred, were standing mere feet away from Goliath’s tree. Goliath hadn’t wanted to bring the worthless failure, but Mordred had told him to. More importantly, the tree told him to. “Is this where you’re always disappearing to?”

  Goliath gave him a severe look. So his nightly vanishings were not going unnoticed. “How many know?” he asked.

  “Just me, I think.” The traitor answered, a hint of pride in his voice, “The other saloli aren’t as attentive as I am.”

  “Stupid, arrogant fool.” Goliath thought, spitefully, “Even with his failure fresh in his mind, he still thinks he’s better than the rest of my tribe.” Out loud, he said, “Good. We need to keep it that way.”

  “This place isn’t for everyone,” Mordred agreed, speaking up for the first time that night, “If everyone found out, we may lose control of them.”

  “What is this place?”

  “Goliath just calls it the Evil Tree.” Goliath gave Mordred an evil glare as well, forgetting for the moment that he wouldn’t see it.

  “Well, what do you do here?” Razor asked.

  “We climb to the top, and then we simply bask in the evil for as long as we need to,” Goliath answered, tired of Mordred speaking for him.

  “Let’s go then!” Razor raced forward, about to sink his claws into the soft, soggy bark. Before he could, though, Goliath sped forward and head butted the traitor to the ground.

  “Your chief goes first,” he growled. Despite how disgusted he was at Razor, Goliath still couldn’t resist being impressed at how easily he was accepting the tree. It had taken himself three nights just to work up the nerve to get where the traitor was standing now, and Razor was already trying to climb up! Goliath turned back to the tree and quickly began to scale it. He could sense Razor about to come up after him, but stopped him with a glare, “Mordred comes after me,” he growled, “you are last.” Razor seemed undeterred.

  By the time the three saloli had reached the top, the moon was directly above them, shining straight down into the tree’s well-like opening. Goliath sucked in the air, inhaling the musky scent of evil. He heard Razor do the same.

  “What does it smell like, Razor?” Mordred asked.

  “It smells like. . . power,” Razor answered, eyes shining with malice, “pure, unadulterated power.”

  “Do you want some of that power?�
� the blind saloli continued.

  “No!” Goliath screamed inside his head, “He does not deserve it!” He wisely kept his mouth closed, though.

  “Yes!” Razor responded eagerly.

  “Close your eyes,” Mordred instructed, “and listen.”

  Razor did as the old saloli said. Knowing there was nothing he could do to stop Mordred from doing what he wanted, Goliath, too, closed his eyes. Deep inside his mind, Goliath saw a burning forest. Flames scorched the trees, killing all that was within them. Creatures ran to and fro in absolute terror, trying to escape. But this was no ordinary fire. The flames burned a bright green instead of orange. The fire burned so bright that even the stars in the sky could not be seen. The sight made Goliath giddy with happiness.

  Then Goliath saw something that made him even happier. His vision led him into Icefire’s camp, where the corpse’s of the entire tribe lay strewn across the ground, impaled on sprigs, and dangling from branches. All but one. Rust stood in the center of the camp, before Goliath himself. Icefire’s chief lay down on the ground and groveled, begging Goliath to spare his life.

  “Please!” he cried, tears streaming down his face, “I don’t want to die!”

  Goliath looked at Rust, disgusted. “I gave you the chance to join me, Rust, but you decided to become my enemy instead. Now you will pay the price for your foolishness.”

  Goliath watched as he kneeled down, took Rust’s neck in his jaws, and twisted sharply. A loud crack filled the air, sounding above the crackling green flames, and Rust fell to the ground, dead. Then Goliath watched as the fire continued to spread, engulfing the entire forest, and, eventually, the world.

  “Destroy the Sword destroy the Sword destroy the Sword destroy the Sword destroy the Sword.”

  The voice echoed in Goliath’s mind like a voice in a cave. The vision changed. It showed the forest at night again, but this time it was whole and healthy, without a flame in sight. Goliath spotted himself, once more, only now he was obviously not in a good position. He was running through the forest, away from something that was clearly terrifying him. Then the night sky flashed, and a gigantic sword came plummeting out of it. It had a bright, golden hilt, a silver handle, and a pure, mirror-like blade. The sword struck the ground hard enough to make the earth shake, impaling Goliath in the process. The image faded, leaving Goliath looking at nothing but darkness.

  “Beware the saloli who flies on the wings of an eagle.”

  The voice did not echo this time, only speaking once. When Goliath saw no more, he opened his eyes. He was deeply shaken. This was the first time the tree had ever shown him something, or spoken in an audible voice to him. Whatever it was he had seen, it was obviously very important. This wasn’t the first time he had heard of this sword. Ratty, had reported having a dream that spoke of it, but Goliath had written it off as a blessing. After all, what saloli had a sword? But now that the tree was warning him of it as well, he knew it was nothing to take lightly. Just as soon as he had finished thinking this, Razor too opened his eyes. Mordred, who did not need to close his eyes, turned to face the traitor.

  “What did you see, Razor?” the old saloli asked.

  “I know what to do,” Razor replied, flexing his claws, sinking them deeper into the Tree and covering them with its green-yellow sap. “I need to kill the outsider.”

  <><><><><>

  Though he insisted that he felt fine, Blaze was forced to remain in Faith’s tree for three days.

  “You need to recover from the blood loss,” she would say whenever he tried to get up.

  When he was finally allowed down, the first thing he did was go to check up on Newthorn. Smallthorn had come to visit Blaze in Faith’s tree every day, and all he wanted to talk about was his mate’s pregnancy. He said that it was really beginning to show. Faith had informed Blaze, who was almost completely ignorant in saloli anatomy, that Newthorn would remain pregnant for around thirty days before giving birth, much less time than it took a human baby to develop.

  Blaze saw, immediately, that his friend had not exaggerated about his mate. Already, only a few days after discovering it, Newthorn’s belly was swollen. She didn’t mind the extra weight though, in fact, she thanked Valde Abbas for it every time it was mentioned. Faith had examined her the day before Blaze was released, and was happy to announce that Smallthorn and Newthorn would soon be parents to a little boy saloli. Blaze had never seen his friend so happy.

  “When Springthorn is born, I’m going to teach him to fight better than any saloli in Icefire!” Smallthorn announced one day during a patrol.

  “I think you’d better leave that to his trainer,” Gnaw chuckled.

  “I don’t know if I’ll be able to!” Smallthorn replied, “I want to have everything to do with my son! Everything!”

  “I’m sure you’ll get the chance to spend plenty of time with him,” Gnaw assured him.

  “But how will I know if I’m doing the right thing?” Smallthorn asked, his mood suddenly changing, “I never had a father. I don’t know how to treat a baby!”

  “Don’t worry, you’re paternal instincts won’t let you down. Just follow them and you’ll do fine.” Blaze wished he could join in on the conversation, but he knew nothing about being a parent, much less a saloli parent.

  It was then that the three saloli reached the Darkcover border. “Blaze, you take the Cyclone border. Smallthorn and I’ll take the Groundsky border.” Blaze nodded his agreement, and began the journey down the Cyclone border. Barely ten minutes later, a voice sounded out from across the scent wall.

  “Hail, Icefire! Let us come together peacefully for an exchange of events!”

  Surprised, Blaze snapped his head towards the voice so fast that his neck hurt. He had become so distracted, thinking about Smallthorn’s child, that he hadn’t smelled the Cyclone patrol approaching. Not knowing what else to do, he made his way over to the scent wall.

  “I don’t believe I’ve seen you before,” the saloli in charge said. He was a gray saloli with black flecks on his face which resembled freckles, “My name is Freckle. What are you called?”

  “I’m Blaze.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Blaze. May we never meet in battle. Now tell me, what has been going on in Icefire?”

  “Um, I don’t know if I’m allowed to tell you,” Blaze replied, “I’ve only seen one of these happen before. I really don’t know what it is I should or shouldn’t say.”

  “Very well,” Freckle agreed, “I will go first, and you follow my example. Cyclone is doing very well this summer. We have plenty of food, enough that we have been able to begin stocking up on it for the winter. There has been a slight decrease in the number of young being born, but that may be a good thing. We can hardly handle as many as we’ve got now. Two of our tribe members have been wedded. Their names are now Branch and Racer. That’s all that’s worth reporting, now it’s your turn.”

  Blaze began to think fast, trying to come up with all the things worthy of being spoken of while not revealing his tribe’s troubles. “Well, food is running well in Icefire, though we do not have enough to begin stocking for winter yet. Two of our saloli have been wedded. Their names are Smallthorn and Newthorn. They are already expecting a child. As for the birthing rates, I don’t know.” He decided to leave out the parts about Razor and Goliath.

  “Is that all?” Freckle inquired, “very well, you did good for your first time. Until we meet again, Blaze.” With that, the Cyclone saloli turned and led his patrol away.

  Blaze breathed a sigh of relief. He had done his first exchange of events without messing up. As he continued his patrol, though, his good mood suddenly soured. There, in the exact same spot as before, was a saloli scent crossing the border between Icefire and Cyclone.

  The scent of an Icefire saloli.

  The temptation was too much. If an Icefire saloli was crossing the Cyclone border, it could easily mean that another betrayal was on the way. Blaze knew that he couldn’t rest with that knowledge in
his head. He would have to find out the truth. Reaching a paw out, he slowly placed it over the scent wall. Blaze didn’t know what he was expecting, but was surprised when nothing happened.

  Of course not! He thought. They’re saloli. It’s not like they have alarm systems or something. He quickly looked right and left for oncoming patrols, and, seeing none, sprinted over the border and into Cyclone territory, not stopping until he was safely hidden inside a bush. Safe? I’m on another tribe’s ground. There’s nothing safe for me here!

  Going slowly, Blaze poked his head out of the bush and looked around, but saw nothing. He inhaled through his nose, but all the saloli scents were stale, meaning there was nobody around. Seeking out the Icefire scent again, Blaze crept out of the bush and began to follow it. The course took him farther and farther into Cyclone territory, and soon he could not even smell the border. Blaze was surrounded by unfamiliar Cyclone scents. All his animal instincts told him to run, get away before someone caught him, but he knew what he had to do.