Legends of the Saloli: Approaching Storm

by Adam Bolander

  “You’re going to take a special test today,” Blaze informed his student, “first, we have to wait for someone to get here.”

  “Who?” Scratch inquired, just as a bush on the other side of the Acorn Place rustled. Smallthorn came out of it, followed closely by Ink.

  “Glad you could make it.” Blaze called to his friend, “How’s Newthorn?”

  “She hasn’t shown any signs of illness yet,” Smallthorn said, “Faith says that if the poison was dangerous, it would have taken effect already. She’s still having her stay in her tree for another few days, though, just in case.”

  “Good. Well then, want to get started?”

  “Ready when you are.”

  Blaze turned to face his trainee, “Scratch, today I’m going to test your fighting skills against someone other than myself. You will fight Ink to the best of your ability. You don’t have to win, just do your best.”

  “I have to fight Ink?” Scratch asked, horrified.

  “I have to fight Scratch?” Ink echoed.

  “I can’t fight her, she’s my sister!” Scratch said.

  “And he’s my brother!” Ink confirmed.

  “It’s just practice,” Smallthorn comforted them, “it’s not like you’ll be killing each other.”

  “But, she’s my. . .”

  “Scratch, it’ll be fine.” Blaze promised him, “If it gets to be too much, Smallthorn and I will be right here.”

  “I don’t know.” Scratch muttered.

  “Don’t worry, Scratch!” Ink chirped, her fear forgotten, “If Blaze says there’s nothing to worry about, then it’s true!”

  “Well, okay.” Scratch agreed, still unsure of the idea.

  “Take the battle stance,” Blaze ordered. The two young saloli faced each other and put themselves into fighting positions.

  “Remember,” Smallthorn instructed, “try to read your opponent’s movements to predict what they will do next. If one strategy doesn’t work, switch to another one before they take advantage of it. And, most importantly, this is only training. Do not use your claws.”

  “Are you ready?” Blaze asked them.

  “Yes,” they both said in unison.

  “Begin!”

  Ink immediately launched herself at her brother. It was an easy attack to dodge, and Blaze smiled as Scratch leapt nimbly to the side, sending his sister flying past him. She quickly turned to lash out with her paw, but didn’t get the chance as Scratch slammed his side into her, bringing her to the ground. He tried to get on top of her to prevent her from getting up again, but she kicked out with her back legs, catching him in the stomach and forcing the air out of him for a moment. Ink took advantage of this and struck Scratch on the side of the head with her paw, claws sheathed.

  “Did you know about those two being siblings?” Smallthorn asked, taking his eyes off of the fight for a moment.

  “No,” Blaze responded, “did you?”

  “No, Ink may be a chatterbox, but she never talks about her family. I wonder why?”

  “Should we ask them?”

  “No,” Smallthorn decided, “If they want us to know, they’ll tell us. It’s our job to prepare them for tribe life, not interrogate them about their families.”

  Blaze decided that Smallthorn was probably right. He knew more about family problems than most saloli. On the other hand, Blaze knew a lot about hiding his past, too. Turning his attention back to the fight, Blaze saw that Scratch was incorporating all of the skills he had learned to good effect. Ink was no weakling, though, and was still putting up a good fight. She stood on her hind legs and began swatting her brother’s head repeatedly. Scratch charged forward and headbutted her in the stomach, knocking her over backwards. She scrambled back to her paws, but Scratch was ready for her. Rearing back on his hind legs as she had done, Scratch allowed himself to fall back down as hard as he could, bringing his front paws down on Ink’s head in the process. She hit the ground once more with a thud.

  “That’s enough!” Blaze ordered, rushing forward to stand between the two trainees.

  Ink picked herself up off the ground, slightly dazed by the heavy blow, “Wow, Scratch!” she exclaimed, not upset about losing in the least, “You’re a really good fighter! Did Blaze teach you that move?”

  “Y-yeah,” Scratch responded, embarrassed by her praise.

  “Don’t be so modest,” Blaze said, “I didn’t teach you that move, you taught it to yourself. In fact, more than half of the moves I saw you using weren’t ones that I taught you. You improvised them.”

  “I what?” Scratch asked, confused.

  “It means,” Smallthorn explained, “that you made them up. Do you know what that means about you? It means that you’re a very gifted fighter. Any trainee can copy moves that their mentor shows them, but only a few can make their own. Even less can make ones that are actually effective like yours.”

  “What about me?” Ink asked, eager for the same praise.

  “You’re a good fighter as well,” Blaze told her, “but you need to break away from the set of moves that you’ve been using. If you use the same ones too often, you’ll become predictable, which is a very bad thing for a fighting saloli. Try to master some new moves, or, better yet, try making your own, like Scratch did.”

  “Okay, I can do that!” Ink agreed.

  “I think that’s enough for today,” Smallthorn decided, “Let’s grab some acorns and head back to camp.”

  As they gathered food, Blaze noticed that Scratch now had a new spring in his step. He swelled with pride at the thought that he had taught the young saloli confidence he now had. He was glad that Rust had chosen him for this. It was hard, like he had warned it would be, but it was also immeasurably satisfying.

  Chapter Twenty

  For the next three days, Smallthorn was hardly ever seen out of Faith’s tree. He was devoting every moment that he was not training Ink to being with Newthorn. He had even convinced Blaze to spend some time with her. Faith told them that, if she still showed no signs of illness, she would be allowed to leave the next morning. She would not, however, be permitted to do her normal duties as an Icefire saloli. When asked why, Faith informed them that Newthorn’s due date would fall within the coming week, and the prophet would need easy access to her when the time came.

  When he heard this, Smallthorn nearly leapt out of the tree in happiness! Blaze quickly calmed him down and convinced him to climb instead. Filled with joy, the small saloli repeatedly raced from one side of the camp to the other, catching Rust’s attention, who approached him to ask what the matter was. Smallthorn immediately began telling him everything there was to say about his soon-to-be child. While he was doing this, Blaze turned back to Newthorn.

  “I’m sure I can’t imagine just how happy you are right now.” He told her, hoping that the statement wouldn’t, somehow, be translated into an insult.

  “I’ve never been happier!” Newthorn exclaimed, “Springthorn will be the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Or to Smallthorn, for that matter.”

  “I’m happy for you,” Blaze said, realizing just how lame he must sound.

  Suddenly, Newthorn’s eyes turned from filled with joy to filled with suspicion, “Are you?” she asked, “I don’t think so.”

  “What?” Blaze asked, caught off guard.

  “I don’t think you’re happy for me at all,” Newthorn explained, “I think you hate every bit of this.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “I think you’re jealous of all the time Smallthorn is spending with me, and not you.”

  “What are you talking about? I’d be the worst friend in the world if I tried to keep my best friend away from his own mate!”

  “I would be jealous too,” she continued, acting as if she hadn’t heard, “After all, he is your best friend. But I don’t need to be jealous, because I have Smallthorn as much as I could ever want!”

  “Exactly, so why are you. . .”

  “But you’re
trying to take him away from me!” she accused, “All those long trips out into the forest, claiming he’s training that little brat. I know what’s really going on. He’s out there with you, doing who knows what!”

  “Newthorn, calm down!”

  “He’s using Ink as an excuse to get away from me! You thought I wouldn’t notice, but you were wrong!”

  “You think Smallthorn would do that to you?” Blaze asked, shocked that such a thing would even enter her mind about her own mate.

  “And that attack from Razor! You arranged that to try and get rid of me. Then you’d have Smallthorn all to yourself!”

  “Newthorn, listen to what you’re saying!”

  “But,” she said slowly, her eyes turning thoughtful, “if I were to get rid of you, then I’d have Smallthorn, and you wouldn’t be here to take him away from me.”

  “Newthorn, I think you need to lie down for a minute,” Blaze advised her, worried about what might be going through her head.

  “No,” she snapped back, “I think you need to lie down forever!” With that, she lunged at him, teeth bared and aiming straight for his throat. Blaze leapt back, avoiding the bite.

  “Newthorn!” he shouted, “Get ahold of yourself!”

  Just as quickly as it had come, the hatred left Newthorn’s eyes, leaving behind confusion, which quickly turned to shame, “Oh my gosh,” she whispered, “What am I doing?”

  “What was that?” Blaze demanded.

  “I. . . I don’t know!” she whimpered fearfully, “I just got so angry all of a sudden, and I couldn’t hold myself back!”

  “But you’re okay now?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Blaze, are you all right?” Faith asked, climbing up to the branch the two saloli were standing on.

  “I’m fine.” Blaze answered, “How much did you see?”

  “All of it.” The prophet replied.

  “Do you know what happened to me?” Newthorn asked.

  “I do, and it’s nothing to worry about.” Faith assured her, “It was simply a pregnant mood swing. You should be experiencing them this close to your due date. It’s completely natural.”

  “What a relief.” Newthorn said, exhaling as if she had been holding her breath, “Thank you.”

  “Blaze, I need to speak with you.” Faith said.

  “About what?” Blaze asked.

  “On the ground.” Sensing that this was important, he began to follow her down the tree without another word, but was stopped by Newthorn.

  “Blaze?” she asked, “Please don’t tell Smallthorn about what just happened. It would only make him worry.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t,” Blaze promised, before hurrying to the ground, where he found Faith, a solemn look in her eyes, “That wasn’t a natural mood swing, was it?” He asked.

  “No,” she answered, “a natural mood swing may sour a saloli’s temper, but it would never entice them to attack one of their closest friends. There was nothing natural about that.”

  “What do you think it was?”

  Faith closed her eyes to think, “I’m tempted to say it was the poison Razor left on her, but I can’t be sure.”

  “So it was poison.”

  “Oh yes, it was definitely poison. What I don’t know is what kind, where it came from, or what it will do. I told Smallthorn and Newthorn what I did to keep them from worrying. After all, I had thought that it might not have any effect on her after being dormant for so long. It seems I may have been wrong.”

  “But what kind of poison could warp her mind like that?”

  “I don’t know, Blaze.”

  “Is there anything we can do?”

  “All we can do now is keep an eye on her, see if she continues to act strangely. Can you do that?”

  “Of course. I’ll watch her as much as I possibly can.”

  “Thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other things I must attend to.” Faith turned to walk away, but Blaze called after her.

  “Faith, will Newthorn be all right?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, Blaze. All we can do is pray.”

  <><><><><>

  “Goliath!” Ratty squeaked in his high, whiny voice, “I need to speak with you.”

  Goliath growled in frustration, “What do you want, Ratty?” he demanded.

  “I’ve noticed that you have been listening to that other saloli more than you have to me,” the gray saloli said, “I want to know why.”

  Goliath rolled his eyes. Maybe he could get through this without more trouble than was necessary.

  “And which saloli would that be?” he asked.

  “The one that you adopted into the tribe.” Ratty explained, “The blind one. It’s obvious you hold him in higher esteem than you do me, and I demand to know why!”

  Goliath glared at his prophet, letting all of the contempt he felt for him show in it. He was a bit surprised. Ratty had no spine, so he shouldn’t be acting like this. The prophet’s anger must have been enough to change his character, at least for the moment. Goliath regained his composure before Ratty even noticed he had lost it.

  “Maybe,” he said, “it’s because Mordred isn’t a coward. Maybe it’s because, when I give him an order, he doesn’t waste half an hour complaining about it. Maybe it’s because he is everything you are not for this tribe!”

  Ratty’s eyes widened in indignation, “According to the laws of the forest, there should be no other saloli in the entire tribe that the chief trusts more than the prophet!” He yelled.

  “Well, you’ve certainly failed at making that happen, haven’t you?” Goliath sneered.

  At that moment, Mordred himself came to stand beside the two saloli, “I have just finished conversing with the. . .” he paused and glanced at Ratty, even though he couldn’t see him, “higher powers.”

  Ratty’s eyes bugged out so much that it looked as if they would pop out of his head, “What?” he screeched, “You’ve been speaking to Valde Abbas? Only I’m allowed to do that!”

  “Oh, I don’t think Goliath minds.” Mordred crooned.

  “I have given him my special permission to do just that,” Goliath confirmed.

  “No! I’ve had it! I demand that the privileges that go to the prophet be bestowed upon the prophet, and him alone!”

  Goliath had grown tired of this, and decided to hit Ratty where it would hurt the most, “Very well then,” he agreed, “Mordred is now the new tribe prophet.”

  It looked as if Ratty would faint from shock, “But... but… you can’t do that!” he wailed.

  “And why not?” Goliath challenged him, “I am the chief of this tribe, aren’t I?”

  “Yes, but the laws of the forest say that a new prophet can only be named when the old one dies!” Goliath smiled. The idiot had fallen right into his trap.

  “All right, Ratty,” he said, smugly, “we’ll do it your way.”

  Before Ratty could comprehend what his chief was insinuating, Goliath had lashed out, claws bared, and ripped a chunk of the poor saloli’s throat free. Ratty slumped to the ground, blood pooling on the dirt in front of him, and looked up at the giant saloli, a look of utter despair in his eyes, “But I. . . I,” he choked, “I worshipped you!” With that, the light faded from his eyes, and Ratty lived no more. Goliath turned to face Mordred.

  “Congratulations on your promotion, Mordred,” he said, “Use this new position to serve your tribe well.” He turned to leave.

  “I am honored, Goliath,” Mordred said, smiling wickedly, “I just wish Ratty could be here to see this. He would be so proud.”

  Goliath turned back to look at his new prophet.

  “Who’s Ratty?” he asked.

  <><><><><>

  For the rest of the day, and the following night, Blaze kept his eye on Newthorn. She showed no more signs of strange behavior, though, and, as Faith promised, was allowed to rejoin Icefire the next morning. Blaze continued to watch her, but continually found himself being drawn away to d
o his tribe duties. It was sometime around noon, and he had just returned from a patrol. As he settled down in the shade of the common’s tree to rest, he heard his name being called. Looking around, he saw Rust standing at the edge of camp, motioning for Blaze to join him. Getting back up, Blaze quickly made his way over, “Yes?” he asked when he reached him.