“Walk with me.” Rust ordered, turning and leaving the camp. Blaze followed. They walked for almost five minutes before Rust finally stopped and turned to face his tribemate.
“Is something wrong?” Blaze asked.
“That depends on what you mean by wrong.” Rust answered, “If by wrong you mean that the tribe is in more danger than it already was, then no, there is nothing wrong. However, if by wrong you meant something wrong with you, personally, then yes, something may be wrong.”
“What do you mean?” Blaze asked, confused.
“I’ve been watching you, Blaze,” Rust went on, “I’ve seen the way you look at Sunbeam. I’ve also seen the way she looks at you. It’s obvious that you have feelings for her, and it is also obvious that she feels the same way about you. Yet, you have not asked her to be your mate. Why?”
Great, thought Blaze, Is everyone going to get involved in my love life?
“I understand that, having been an outsider, you may not be comfortable expressing your feelings like that,” Rust said, “but trust me, it’s worth it.”
Blaze blinked in surprise. It had been a long time since anyone had mentioned his “past” as an outsider. He had almost forgotten it, “It’s not that.” he said, running his words through his mind before he said them to keep from revealing too much, as he had with Gnaw, “It’s just that. . .”
“Blaze,” Rust interrupted, “denying yourself true love is not only stupid, it could also be dangerous. If you put off asking her to be your mate for too long, the chance will pass. You will have to live the rest of your life with the knowledge that she could have been yours, but isn’t. This can lead to severe depression, enough to make a saloli kill himself.”
Blaze was disturbed that Rust would actually think that he would commit suicide, but didn’t say anything.
“Trust me, Blaze, I know what it feels like to be in love. I also know what its like to lose it. So trust me when I say I know what I’m talking about.” Blaze couldn’t think of anything to say. “I don’t know if this is what you’re waiting for, or if it will even help, but you have my permission to ask Sunbeam for marriage.”
Blaze hung his head in shame. All these saloli wanted was for him to be happy, but he wasn’t taking any of their advice.
“Think about it.” Rust advised, “I have to go.” With that, he turned and ran into the woods.
Blaze stood there for a few minutes, wondering what he should do. He couldn’t ask Sunbeam to be his mate. Or could he? Maybe he could bring her back to the human world with him. No, he shut that thought down immediately. There was no way he could take her away from her own kind just to be with him. In the midst of all these thoughts, a single question rose to the top of his mind: where was Rust going? Blaze looked in the direction his chief had taken, and gasped.
Rust was headed directly for the Cyclone border!
<><><><><>
Reaching the Cyclone border, Blaze’s fears were immediately realized. In the exact same spot as before, Rust’s scent crossed the territory line. Knowing what he had to do, Blaze followed. He hurried through the forest, following Rust’s scent. He soon realized that he was taking the same path as he had before to get to the camp. He paused momentarily by the riverbank to see if the whirlpool would form again, but the water remained still, and he quickly continued on his way. Within minutes, he stood outside the Cyclone camp, and quickly ducked inside the bush he had hidden in before. Sure enough, Rust stood within the camp, in front of a saloli Blaze had never seen before. She was obviously a female, and had golden, honey-like fur. She stood with such an aura of authority that Blaze guessed that she was the chief of Cyclone.
“Why have you come, Rust?” she demanded.
“I mean your tribe no harm, Goldenrod.” Rust assured her, “I came only to speak with you.”
“Freckle tells me that this is not the first time you have intruded here. Last time, I was not here to deal with you personally.”
“A coincidence.” Rust insisted, “I had no idea that you wouldn’t be here.”
“You still haven’t told me why you’ve come.”
“I’ll get straight to the point. Darkcover has risen up, with the intention of taking over the forest. Goliath is now their chief. Icefire can not defeat them, so I’ve come to you.”
“If Icefire has grown too weak to defeat Darkcover, then that is their problem, not ours. It seems to me that being overrun by the weakest tribe would be a fitting punishment. After all, it was your responsibility to execute Goliath, was it not?”
“Please, let’s not point claws.” Rust reasoned, “I can help you.”
“Cyclone does not require your help.” Goldenrod argued.
“But I. . .”
“No, we are done here. Leave immediately.” Head hung in defeat, Rust turned to leave the camp. “And Rust,” Goldenrod called him back, “if you are ever caught in our territory again, my saloli have permission to kill you on sight.”
“Yes, Goldenrod,” Rust acknowledged her, despair making his voice sound hollow, then turned and left the Cyclone camp.
Blaze watched in horror as his chief walked past his hiding place, too downtrodden to notice him. It was obvious now that Blaze’s fears were true; Rust’s allegiances had been turned. For some reason, he had lost faith that his own tribe could defeat Darkcover, and was now seeking refuge elsewhere. But how would Blaze tell Icefire? The knowledge that their own leader, who they had always placed their undying trust in, had betrayed them could possibly break their will. Perhaps it would be best not to tell them. Maybe Blaze could find another way. Maybe it would be best to kill him when nobody was around, then say that a saloli from another tribe had done it.
“Hey!” someone yelled behind him. Blaze spun around to find himself looking into the eyes of Freckle. “Spy!” the gray saloli accused. Knowing that arguing his innocence would be useless, especially under the current circumstances, Blaze turned and ran as fast as he could. “Get him!” Freckle ordered, and Blaze immediately heard a gang of saloli come after him. Locating Rust’s scent, he began to follow it, knowing it would lead him back to his own territory. As he ran, though, the ground began to become muddier and harder to keep his balance on. His paws slid out from under him, and sent him barreling across Cyclone territory at a dizzying speed. When he finally came to a stop, Blaze got back to his paws and looked around, but didn’t recognize anything. Sniffing the air, he couldn’t even find Rust’s scent!
“Don’t let him get away!” he heard Freckle shout behind him, and took off again. The sound of his pursuers became louder as they gained on him. Blaze put on a last burst of speed and. . .
Found himself falling, falling falling.
Splash!
Blaze had fallen from a small bluff into the river. Submerged, he struggled to get back to the top, but his body was not built for swimming. Breaking the surface, he gulped down the life giving air until his lungs stopped burning. The bank was only a few feet away, so he began paddling as well as he could towards it.
“There he is!” he heard one of the Cyclone saloli shout, “He’s in the water!”
“Come on, let’s get him!” said another.
“No,” Freckle ordered, “we don’t need to. The river will take care of him for us.”
Not pausing to wonder what he meant, Blaze continued to swim for the shore. Suddenly, though, he felt the water begin to pull him back in. Glancing back, he gasped in horror as the whirlpool he had stopped earlier to see began to form! He flailed his limbs desperately, but to no avail. He was still being drawn to the underwater cyclone. The last thing he saw was Freckle looking down at him in contempt, and then he was swallowed, and saw nothing but darkness as the water pressure pressed in on him from all sides, threatening to crush him. He soon lost consciousness.
Chapter Twenty One
Blaze found himself floating in a big, black, empty void. Looking around, he could see absolutely nothing in any direction, “Hello?” he called out. There wa
s no response, not even an echo.
Where am I? How did I get here? How will I get out?
Then Blaze remembered going into the Cyclone territory, Rust betraying the tribe, being chased, the whirlpool. Was he dead? Is this what happened when you died?
All creatures rejoin Valde Abbas when they pass away in his castle beyond the sunrise, Faith’s voice sounded in his head. No, he couldn’t be dead. This was no castle. But then Faith’s voice spoke up again. A creature can only find its way to his castle if its body is no longer made of physical matter.
Was that what had happened? Had Blaze died, but not been transformed? Had the river washed his body somewhere no Icefire saloli would ever find him? He began to panic. He didn’t want to spend eternity in this large, empty nothing! Suddenly, there was a bright flash in the distance. When Blaze looked closer, he saw something coming towards him, though it was too far away to tell exactly what it was. It was long and narrow, and shone brightly, even in the darkness. Blaze gasped.
It was a sword.
Soon it was directly beside him. It was huge, far bigger than a normal sword. It easily dwarfed Blaze. Its hilt was gold, its handle was silver, and the blade gleamed like a mirror. He looked around, wondering what it was he was supposed to learn from this vision. Was it simply meant to show him what the sword looked like? Or was there something more? Blaze stared intently at it, trying to notice anything out of the usual. All he saw was his reflection in the blade. Then the vision began to fade.
“Wait!” Blaze yelled, “I haven’t figured it out yet!”
The vision continued to grow dimmer.
“Where do I find it?” he asked.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a voice spoke.
“Within.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“Become.”
With that, the vision disappeared completely.
<><><><><>
“Hey!” Blaze heard someone yell, “There’s a saloli in the water!”
As he gradually came to his senses, Blaze felt water lapping at his fur, but he was resting on what felt like small rocks, so he guessed he was on the riverbank. But where? Was he still in Cyclone territory, or had he been washed into another tribe’s land? He knew that the river wound its way into Icefire territory, it was where the tribe got its water, but he wasn’t sure if it went into or came out of Cyclone territory. He tried to move, but was too sore from being dragged along the riverbed, and tired from fighting the current. He couldn’t even open his eyes.
“Is he dead?” someone else asked.
“I don’t know, looks like he might be.”
“If he is, leave him there. There’s nothing we can do for him.”
Blaze knew that he needed help, or he would be pulled back into the river and drown. Summoning his strength, he tried to call out to them, but only uttered a small grunt. Weak as it was, it still got the attention of whoever was watching him, “Did you hear that? He’s alive! Come on, we need to help him!”
Blaze heard paws trampling the undergrowth, coming closer to him, and the scent of saloli reached his nose. It was not, however, the scent of any tribe he knew. He felt a paw touch his side.
“He’s hardly breathing. We need to get the water out of his lungs.”
One of the saloli pressed against his side, rolling him onto his stomach. He felt paws press down on his back, and push forward. It hurt, but Blaze soon coughed, and the water came out of his lungs, allowing him to breathe again. He gasped, sucking in as much air as possible, feeling life come back to his body. Once he had caught his breath, he opened his eyes to see two saloli standing in front of him. Both were male. They were thinner than he was, but their bodies were still well muscled. They both seemed younger than Blaze.
“Are you all right?” one asked. He had light brown fur, with a yellow spot in the middle of his back.
“I think so,” Blaze answered.
“We thought you were dead!” the other said. This one was black, with a gray patch on his nose.
“Thank you for helping me,” Blaze said.
“I’m Crag,” the brown one said, “this is Quarry.”
“What tribe are you in?” Blaze asked.
“None,” Quarry answered, “we’re outsiders.”
Outsiders? Despite having been thought to be one, Blaze had never met an actual outsider before.
“Come with us, you need to speak to our chief.” said Crag, turning to walk away.
Now Blaze was confused. Outsiders did not belong to a tribe, so how could they have a chief? And, if he remembered correctly, they weren’t supposed to have names, either. He remained silent, though, and followed the two saloli. As he walked through the forest, he saw that he still wasn’t in Icefire territory. Though it looked similar, it didn’t have the scent of Icefire saloli. In fact, it didn’t smell like any tribe at all. Blaze realized, then, that he was actually outside the tribe boundaries, but where?
“Our camp is just over that hill.” Crag informed him.
Cresting the hill, Blaze was astonished to see a tribe of saloli, though the word army may have been better. There were easily enough saloli to make four tribes, if not more!
“What is this?” he asked.
“This way,” said Quarry, motioning with his tail, “our chief is over there.”
The three saloli slowly made their way through the camp. Unlike the time Blaze had first been escorted into the Icefire camp, the saloli here didn’t seem to notice him, as if they were used to strange saloli appearing. At the far edge of the camp, a single saloli was standing, surrounded by other saloli. Blaze guessed that this was the chief. He had pure white fur, and bright red eyes, something that Blaze had never seen in a saloli before. He was also thin, far thinner than a healthy saloli would ever be.
“Specter.” Crag called out.
The white saloli looked at them, and, dismissing himself from the crowd gathered around him, unhurriedly made his way over.
“Yes, Crag?” he asked when he reached them. Despite his diminutive stature, his voice was loud and clear, ringing with authority.
Crag motioned to Blaze with his tail. “We found this saloli half drowned on the riverbank. We revived him and brought him here to see you.”
“Good work,” the chief said, “go get something to eat. You too, Quarry.”
As the two young saloli raced off, the white saloli turned to face Blaze, “My name is Specter. I am chief to these saloli. Do you have a name?”
“My name is Blaze.”
“Blaze? You are a tribe saloli, then?”
“Yes. What is all this?” Blaze asked, referring to all the saloli in the camp.
“This is NoTribe,” Specter explained, “a tribe for saloli that do not have one.”
“It’s huge.”
“You would be surprised to find out just how many outsiders are in this forest. We have made it our goal to give them a safe haven and friends to rely upon so that they won’t have to face life alone. Now tell me, which tribe are you from?”
“I’m from Icefire,” Blaze answered.
“Icefire?” Specter repeated, confused.
“Yeah, Icefire. You know, the tribe in the north?”
“In the north? Oh, you mean NorthTribe!”
“NorthTribe?” now it was Blaze’s turn to echo Specter.
“You live in the north, therefore you are NorthTribe. At least, that’s what we’ve always called you. But that’s not important. How did you come to be here? The river Crag and Quarry found in you goes a long way out of your territory before coming here.”
“I, uh, wasn’t in my own territory,” Blaze answered, immediately regretting giving away that information.
“I see. It doesn’t matter to me what you were doing there, though. That is your business.” Blaze breathed a sigh of relief that Specter didn’t press him for details. It could be dangerous if he, somehow, got mixed up with Cyclone, “Now,” said Specter, “go ahead and ask what you really want to know.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ask me why I look this way.”
It was true, Blaze had been wanting to ask that, but was afraid of offending Specter, “Okay,” he said, “why do you look like that?”
“It’s because I’m an albino,” Specter answered, a hint of pride in his voice.
“I didn’t know saloli could be albino,” Blaze mused.
“Any creature can be albino,” Specter informed him, “but it’s very, very rare, no matter what the species.”
Legends of the Saloli: Approaching Storm Page 23
