Maybe she’s just laying on something uncomfortable, Blaze thought, but he knew this wasn’t likely, or she simply would have moved. He couldn’t help but think that this was another effect of the poison. He decided to go check on her.
“Are you okay, Newthorn?” He asked, walking up to her.
“Stay away!” She hissed, her eyes filled with fury.
Blaze backed away. It was as he feared. The poison was still affecting her. What should he do? The obvious choice would be to go to Faith, but she had become even busier than usual after Scratch left. He decided not to bother her. After all, the poison may just be taking a bit longer to leave her system then she anticipated. He contemplated telling Smallthorn, but that would just cause needless worry. In the end, he decided it would be best to keep this to himself. He walked back over to where he had been before and was about to lay back down when something else caught his eye. Rust was standing at the edge of camp, and he appeared a bit nervous. Looking left and right to see if anyone was watching him, he quickly dashed out of camp.
Where is he going? Blaze thought, though he believed he already knew the answer. Getting up, he followed him. Catching his scent, he confirmed that Rust was, indeed, heading towards the Cyclone border. Going after him, Blaze silently prayed to Valde Abbas that this was not what it appeared to be. Maybe he was going to meet a patrol, or he just needed a drink, since the river went past the border. In his heart, though, he knew what he would find. He breathed a sigh of relief, however, when he came to the border. Rust’s scent came close to it, in the exact spot he had crossed over every time, but then veered away, going along with it instead. Blaze decided to keep following it, just in case. He walked for five minutes, and then gasped. In a completely new spot, far away from the usual one, Rust’s scent crossed the border once more. Knowing what he had to do, Blaze followed once again.
This part of Cyclone territory was completely new to him. He kept close to Rust’s scent so he wouldn’t get lost. This time Rust seemed to have gone all the way around the camp for some reason, and then made straight for it. When Blaze came within twenty feet of it, the scents of at least ten other saloli appeared. The dirt was scuffed up, and there was even a bit of blood on the ground. Obvious signs of a fight. Rust had been caught. Continuing on, Blaze came, at last, to the Cyclone camp. There were no bushes to hide in on this side, so he simply hid behind a tree, poking his head around to see. Rust stood in the center of the camp, scratched up very badly. Five saloli stood around him as guards. Goldenrod stood across from him, a look of smug victory on her face.
“Well,” she said, “if it isn’t Rust again. Don’t you remember what I said last time you came?”
“I do,” he answered, “but I believe this is worth it. I’ve come to ask for your help again.”
“And I’m here to deny it to you again.” Goldenrod rebuked him, “Why is your life really so meaningless to you that you would throw it away like this?”
“If I do not receive your help, then my life is worth nothing.”
“Brave words, but do you really mean them?”
“Yes.”
“Then I suppose I should test them!” Goldenrod snarled. She bared her claws and lashed out at Rust’s face. They missed, but by less than a centimeter. Rust never flinched. “It seems you were telling the truth after all,” Goldenrod said, an amused look on her face.
“I would never lie about something so serious.” Rust replied.
“Well, your request still means nothing to me. I will keep my promise. The saloli of Cyclone may do with you as they please!” The tribe began to move in on him, claws ready. “Although,” the chief spoke up again, thoughtfully. The saloli stopped moving. “You’re knowledge of the Icefire territories may prove very useful to me. I’ll make you a deal. Abandon your tribe, swear loyalty to Cyclone, and I will give you the help you need.”
Blaze gasped in horror. Surely Rust would never stoop that low! Rust, however, seemed to have different plans. He came forward, to stand before Goldenrod, and bowed his head. He was actually going to do it! He opened his mouth to speak, but Blaze couldn’t bear to hear him. He turned tail and ran. Luckily, everyone was too preoccupied with his chief, no his former chief, to notice him. He ran all the way back to the border and leapt across it, not stopping until he was more than twenty feet away, then collapsed on the ground. This was terrible! What would he do? He couldn’t let Rust come back now! Should he tell the tribe? No, he decided, he wouldn’t tell the tribe. He would lie to them, say that Rust had been killed. It was, he reasoned, better to tell them a lie than force them to face a hard truth. And if the traitor ever came back, Blaze would kill him personally. Suddenly, there was a rustle in the undergrowth from across the border, and Rust emerged! It seemed that time had come already. Blaze backed up into a nearby bush, and watched him. Rust looked left, then right, and then crossed the border. He appeared very agitated.
Which he should, Blaze thought, he’s not even in his own territory anymore.
Rust quickly began to make his way towards the camp. He seemed to be in a hurry. Blaze waited until he was right next to him, then pounced! He had taken Rust completely by surprise, and managed to knock him over. Blaze stood on top of his former chief, and bared his claws, ready to kill him.
“Blaze, what are you doing?” he gasped.
“Traitor!” Blaze yelled, raising his paw for the final blow. Rust rolled to the side, however, throwing Blaze off of him. He made no move to attack, and Blaze took advantage of that, scrambling to his paws, he lashed out, almost taking off one of Rust’s ears, but the traitor simply moved his head out of the way.
“Blaze, stop!” he ordered.
Blaze attacked with his claws again, this time catching Rust in the side of his face. He fell to the ground once more. He tried to get back up, but Blaze, without thinking about it, rose onto his hind legs and brought both of his front paws down on his head, slamming it back down again. Rust didn’t move, dazed by the unexpected attack. Once again, Blaze raised his paw, preparing for the final strike.
“Wait!” Rust said, “At least tell me why you’re doing this!”
“You betrayed us,” Blaze spat, “you swore your allegiance to Cyclone for your own protection!”
“You saw that?” Rust asked, shocked.
“I saw everything. I was there the last two times you visited too.”
“Blaze, listen to me! I know how it must have looked, but I wasn’t doing that for my own protection. I was trying to convince Cyclone to ally themselves with us in the war!”
Blaze gasped. Suddenly, much of what he saw made sense. He lowered his claws, contemplating this, “But,” he argued, “you swore your allegiance to Cyclone! I saw you!”
“Did you stay for the whole thing?” Rust asked.
“No, I left when you were about to agree with her.”
“If you had stayed, you would have seen me deny her offer. I told her that I would never betray my tribe! They tried to kill me, but I managed to escape. I got back here, and then you attacked me.”
“But. . . but. . .” Blaze stammered, “You never mentioned an alliance when I was listening!”
“I know,” Rust explained, getting back to his paws, “I couldn’t. Cyclone is very secretive, and they hate working with other tribes. If I had said the word alliance, they would have turned me away immediately. I tried to make it sound as if we were in trouble, and needed rescuing. Cyclone is a proud tribe. If they thought that they could make themselves look better by helping us, they may have agreed. Unfortunately, Goldenrod is a selfish chief. She cares only about herself.”
It was all coming together now. Rust had never betrayed his tribe, he was trying to protect it!
“Honestly, I’m surprised that you thought I was a traitor.” Rust said, “I thought you trusted me more than that.”
Blaze looked down at the ground, ashamed, “I’m sorry,” he said, “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”
“No,” said Rust, I’m sorr
y. I thought it would be best to do this without the tribe knowing about it. I should have realized that it would only raise suspicion if anyone caught me at it. It’s not your fault, Blaze, it’s mine.” Blaze looked up to see his chief’s eye clouded with regret. “But,” he said, his eyes clearing immediately, “I have to make sure you trust me now. A tribe can’t function if everyone doubts the other saloli’s motivations.” With that, Rust bowed his head to Blaze.
Blaze was startled. This was a test of absolute trust for saloli. One saloli would bow his head in respect, and the other would lift his, exposing his neck, a deadly mistake if the first saloli wasn’t trustworthy. If Blaze raised his head, he would be saying that he trusted Rust. But what if the entire explanation had been a lie? Rust could be trying to kill him! Blaze thought hard about this. Should he trust him? Was his trust worth it?
At that moment, seemingly out of nowhere, a revelation hit Blaze: if he couldn’t trust the saloli he had looked up to ever since he had joined this tribe, was his life worth living?
Blaze raised his head.
“Good,” Rust said, looking up again, “Now, let’s get back to camp.” His trust renewed, Blaze walked beside him, confident that his chief was the best he could ever hope for.
<><><><><>
Three days had passed since Blaze’s fight with Rust. The weather had gotten dark and cloudy, meaning rain was on the way. Nothing of significance had happened, but Blaze was just glad that he could trust his chief again. It was around five in the afternoon, which meant it was his turn to go on patrol. He joined Gnaw’s group, and they headed out. Blaze made no attempt at conversation, having nothing to talk about. When they reached the Darkcover border, though, they found Faith there waiting for them.
“What are you doing here?” Gnaw asked, though not unkindly.
“I need to speak with Blaze.” She answered.
“Well, he’s doing a patrol right now. Can it wait?”
“No, he needs to hear this now. Would it be all right if I took him across the Groundsky border, while the rest of you took the Cyclone one?”
“Um, okay, I guess.” Gnaw said, reluctantly, so the group split up, Blaze and Faith going one way while the rest went the other.
“What do you want to talk to me about?” Blaze asked once they were out of earshot of the others.
“Remember when you asked me how I knew what a sword was, even though saloli do not use them?” Faith asked, “Well, I think it’s time you knew. Long ago, back when the Black Legion was in power, Valde Abbas decided that he would create something that could battle the Dragon’s forces single handedly. He made a man, and gave him life. But this was no ordinary man. This man was meant to be an unstoppable force, one that could take on any threat and come out victorious.”
“How could he do that?”
“Because,” Faith explained, “he was given a small amount of Valde Abbas’ power, the smallest amount that he could give him. He was taught in the ways of combat, and became an excellent fighter. When he was ready, the Lord of the Forest gave him a name and title. He was named Rascom, the Sword.”
“So, the Sword wasn’t a weapon, it was a person.” Blaze mused.
“Exactly. Rascom was, indeed, an unstoppable force. He fought entire armies and came out victorious. It seemed that he was the perfect weapon against the Dragon, but there was one thing Valde Abbas had overlooked. With the free will he had gifted all creatures with, there was nothing to stop Rascom from changing sides if he ever saw fit.
“It was to have been the final battle between good and evil. Rascom was fighting Sol himself. As the Sword, Rascom easily defeated the evil saloli, but, just as he was about to strike him down, Sol began to speak. His quick tongue and evil mind convinced Rascom that he was being used by Valde Abbas, and that only the Dragon could offer him true freedom.”
“Kind of like what Mordred said?” Blaze asked.
“Yes. In the end, Rascom spared Sol’s life, and joined him. This enraged Valde Abbas, and the Sword vanished. Nobody knows what happened to him. Valde Abbas made a vow, then, that there would be no more Swords. They were far too dangerous. And he has kept his promise.
“Why did you think I needed to know this?”
“Well, first of all, because you asked. Secondly, I think it may have some relevance to what we are experiencing now.”
“You think Valde Abbas broke his pact?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but I believe it may be possible.”
“So, that means that the Sword isn’t an actual sword, it could be a living thing?”
“That is what I’m saying. It is possible.”
“So, what do we do?”
“The only thing we can do: wait for the Sword to make himself known.”
Blaze thought back to the dream he had had after being chased out of Cyclone territory.
“Within.” He still didn’t know what that meant.
“Become.”
Chapter Twenty Six
Two days after Blaze had spoken with Faith, the sun was still blotted out with dark clouds, though it had not yet rained. Blaze had spent every spare moment he had trying to decipher the dream message he had received, but to no avail. Having come to his wit’s end for the third time that day, he decided to take a break and visit Smallthorn, Newthorn, and Springthorn. Climbing up the nursery tree, he hopped onto the branch his friends were sitting on.
“Hi, Blaze!” Smallthorn greeted him, cheerfully.
“Baze! Baze! Baze!” Springthorn shrieked with joy, running over to him.
“Hi, Springthorn!” Blaze said. No matter how poor a mood he was in, Springthorn never failed to raise it.
“He’s just learned a new word.” Smallthorn announced, proudly, “Springthorn, what’s your name?”
“Spingtorn!” The young saloli yelled, happily.
Blaze noticed that Newthorn hadn’t said anything for the entire time he had been there, “How are you, Newthorn?” He asked.
She remained silent, glaring at him.
“She’s not having a good day.” Smallthorn said, a worried tone in his voice.
“Maybe she should go see Faith.” Blaze suggested.
“No, I think she’ll be fine. Do you want to take Springthorn out of the tree?”
“Sure.”
Springthorn had grown enough so that he didn’t have to be carried in his parent’s teeth anymore. Now he simply climbed onto their backs and rode them. Soon, the three of them were on the ground, and Springthorn had managed to get into Rust’s way.
“Spingtorn!” he said to his chief, “Spingtorn! Baze! Spingtorn!” Rust chuckled at the little one’s antics.
“Springthorn, stop bothering Rust!” Smallthorn called.
“I’ll get him.” Blaze said, getting up to grab the newborn. He didn’t get to him, though, before a brown blur, seemingly out of nowhere, slammed into his side, knocking him off his paws! Skidding to a stop, Blaze looked back to see who had attacked him. His eyes went wide with horror.
Newthorn!
She clearly wasn’t in her right mind. Her eyes bugged out, no longer with simple anger, but with maniacal rage. Blaze got back to his feet, and was about to say something when she opened her mouth, letting out a screech that should never have come from of a saloli’s voice. This got the entire tribe’s attention, and they all turned to look. Newthorn charged at Blaze, claws and teeth bared. She leapt into the air, claws held out, aiming straight for him. Blaze jumped to the side, causing her to barely miss him. Undaunted, she spun around, claws catching Blaze in the side. He felt blood soak his fur, but knew that it wasn’t a deep wound. Seeing this, the rest of Icefire raced up into the trees, knowing that this was not an ordinary fight.
“Newthorn, what are you doing?” He demanded. He looked her in the eye, searching for a trace of sanity. There was none. There wasn’t even a trace of Newthorn left in those eyes. Smallthorn snagged Springthorn and brought him back up into the nursery tree. He found Faith there, waiting for h
im.
“Faith, what’s going on?” He demanded, “What is Newthorn doing?”
Sadness shined in the prophet’s eyes, “I’m so sorry, Smallthorn.” She said, “I never thought it would come to this.”
“What are you talking about?”
Legends of the Saloli: Approaching Storm Page 28
