by Davis Ashura
In the past, Chak-Soon would have merely demanded obedience to his will, and woe unto any Tigon who failed him. Now he attempted inspiration. It was a form of leadership he would have once labeled as weak. He now understood how wrong he had been. Compassion and empathy weren’t a sign of weakness. The truth was, it was far easier to have a hard, unforgiving heart than a soft one. Fraternity opened a being’s soul to a much harsher pain. For instance, should one of the Tigons in his claw perish, Chak-Soon knew he would feel a hurt such as he had never felt before when those under his command had died. But then again, fraternity also led to a far deeper joy, such as the bond he shared with these Tigons. He knew they felt the same way about him. Prior to his trip to Hammer, it was a closeness Chak-Soon would have never expected to share with anyone.
Chak-Kilt nodded. “We save.”
Chak-Soon gave the leopard a final squeeze on the shoulder before facing down the slope to where the Braids had closed the distance with the Human girl. They would be on her in seconds. “We run. Kill all.”
He leapt forward, sprinting downward and screaming at the top of his lungs, not because of bloodlust, but to give the Braids pause. He hoped to halt their progress for even the briefest of moments. It might mean the difference between reaching the child in time or watching as she was cut down.
Luck, or maybe the supposed God, Devesh, was with them. The Braids pulled up short in their pell-mell run, gawking at seeing the claw rushing toward them. But the Tigons didn’t pause. They sprinted toward the Braids, all of whom had resumed their chase and likely thought the Tigons wanted to take the kill from them.
Seconds later, yards from the girl — no, there were two others who were Blended with her — Chak-Soon and his claw forked about the child as though she were a rock in their rushing stream. They slammed into the unsuspecting Braids. The battle was brutal and short. The snake-like Chims were taken by surprise and more than half of them were down before the others even realized they were under attack. By the time they rallied to defend themselves, it was too late. The survivors of the initial clash were soon dead as well. Afterward, Chak-Soon was heartened to see that none of his Tigons had thrown aside their swords in favor of tooth and nail. Instead, they had fought with the discipline he had encouraged, using Li-Choke’s leadership as an example.
He turned to the cowering child, flickering in and out of view. “You safe now,” he told her. “Run north. No Fan Lor Kum there yet. Some Humans.” He adjusted his gaze to the others who had chosen to remain Blended. They weren’t very good, though. Their fear leaked through their Blends as sharp as a fox’s musk. “You all go. We see you safe. Hide your trail.”
A Human woman flicked into view as she dropped her Blend. She appeared terrified. “Why are you helping us?” she asked in a quavering voice.
Chak-Soon suppressed a smile. With his assortment of sharp teeth and his blood-splattered fur, it would not have been calming. “You know Jessira? Rukh?” he asked.
Some of the fear in the woman’s eyes leaked away but distrust and confusion persisted. “I know them. They’re my family.”
“She save me. She and he my brothers,” Chak-Soon said. “You my brothers. If see Jessira, tell Chak-Soon save you.” This time, he couldn’t help it. Her puzzlement was just too funny. He smiled, and a moment later, laughed as she shrank away from him. “You run now,” he advised. “Fast.”
The woman nodded, still appearing shocked and in disbelief. She Blended and led the other Humans in a sprint to the north, probably wanting to put as much distance as possible between herself and the Tigons who had just saved her life.
*****
After witnessing the large plume of dust rising from the Croft, Farn had turned the column north. As they rode, the Sorrow Bringer had passed close by, a vile purple-hued thundercloud of lightning and evil. Shortly after Her appearance, several sounds carried to them: a shrieking wind carrying the laughter of a fiend; rocks and stones groaning as they were cracked and pulverized; and screams of terror and pain from of all those poor unfortunates in the Queen’s path.
Currently, the Ashokans were due east of Mount Fort, traveling through a narrow pass, along the cleft of a dry stream bed. Jaresh glanced about nervously. No Chims so far, but they had to be out here. South of their position rose the shoulders of Mount Frame. It was a lovely spring day, but despite the beautiful setting, it was impossible to forget the disaster unfolding nearby: the murder of a city.
So much desolation and heartache. When Jaresh had first seen the dust cloud reaching for the heavens, it had seemed like the smoke rising from some awful funeral pyre, signifying the death of innumerable people and the end of all their hopes and dreams. For him, all that mattered was finding Rukh.
“Blends nearby,” Plinth Fold, a Rahail said.
Jaresh, riding next to Farn at the head of the column, reined in his horse even before Farn held up his hand and called for a halt.
“The hill directly west of us. Large group of them.” Plinth’s eyes narrowed. “They’re heading our way.”
“Hold position,” Farn commanded. “Let them make it down the hill. We’ll confront them once they can’t run.”
“What will we do then?” Jaresh asked.
“Take them in,” Farn replied. “It’s the right thing to do.” He shrugged. “Besides, I don’t want them running away from us, which they might. And with Chims out there and the Queen Bitch Herself, all of us — Ashokans and Strongholders alike — will need to lean on one another if we want to make it out of here alive.” Another shrug. “And if we’re really lucky, Rukh might be with them.”
“Let’s hope so,” Jaresh said fervently.
“I don’t think those people know we’re here,” said Query Led, a Muran.
“Their Blends aren’t worth a spit,” Plinth muttered in disgust.
“It’s the best they can do,” Farn said. “Considering where they started from, it’s not too bad.”
“They’re coming toward us,” Query said. “They’re Linked. I still don’t think they know we’re here.”
“Good. When they’re in reach, Link with them,” Farn ordered. “We’ll talk then.”
They waited for several minutes.
“I can see their Blends now,” Farn said.
“They can see ours, too,” Plinth said. “They’ve stopped.”
“Drop me out of the Link, but maintain your Blends. I’m going to let them see me,” Farn replied. “I’m a familiar face.”
Jaresh couldn’t tell if Farn had actually done anything until Plinth spoke again. “They’re coming toward us,” the Rahail said.
“We’re Linked with them,” Query said just as a large group of people — men, women, and children — blinked into view.
The Strongholders were unlike anyone Jaresh had ever seen — other than Jessira, of course — and the other Ashokans shifted about in their saddles, unsettled by the discordant appearance of the OutCastes. Every one of them had a masala of features, an inter-mix of Rahail, Muran, Cherid, Duriah, Sentya, and Shiyen. There was no evidence of Kumma heritage.
The silence between the two groups stretched on as they sized up one another. Farn dismounted, and of all things, it was a woman, tall and built like a man, who stepped forward to represent the OutCastes. She was dressed in camouflage and outfitted with a sheathed sword, a cased bow, and a quiver of arrows. Her dark hair was tied back in a braid, and her brown-eyed gaze studied them with a frank, if mistrustful, assessment. She was attractive in a brash, assertive way, much like Jessira, and the two women were similar enough in appearance to have been sisters.
“Sign Deep,” Farn said by way of greeting.
“Farn Arnicep,” the woman replied. “How is it you return to Stronghold on such an inauspicious day?” Suspicion tinged her voice.
Farn ignored the implied insult. “We were sent by Dar’El Shektan to open trade between your city and ours.”
“And you happen to arrive at our doorstep on the same day as the Queen?�
� She asked. “That doesn’t strike you as particularly coincidental?”
“Believe what you wish,” Farn said. “We saw Suwraith. She passed overhead. The only reason we’re still here rather than on our way back to Ashoka is because we thought we might be able to save some of your people.”
“How generous,” she said, her voice brittle and on edge.
“Do you know Rukh Shektan?” Jaresh asked, no longer able to keep silent. He had to know what had happened to his brother.
“Who is he to you?” Sign asked.
“My brother. I’m Jaresh.”
Her eyes rose. “So. He wasn’t lying when he said he had a Sentya brother. Some of us didn’t believe him.”
“How do you know him?” Jaresh asked.
“She is Jessira’s cousin,” Farn answered.
Well, that explained the resemblance between the two women.
“Cousin, yes,” Sign said, “but our bonds go much deeper. I think of her as my akka, my sister.” She turned to Jaresh. “Which means you and I are family.”
“What?” Jaresh asked.
“Rukh and Jessira are married,” she said. “The last time I saw the two of them … ” her voice caught, “ … they were helping evacuate Stronghold, along with my brother and Cedar. I don’t know what happened to them afterward.” Toward the end, her voice firmed and her features grew flat and unexpressive. Maybe it was the only way to deal with her pain: shove it deep down and ignore it.
Farn stepped forward until he was no more than a few feet from the OutCaste woman. “We did not bring the Sorrow Bringer to your home,” he said, staring her in the eyes. “We came to open trade between our two cities and bring Rukh home. His exile has been lifted by the Chamber of Lords. And now we’re here to help save as many of your people as we can. We can Blend better than any of you. Let us help.”
Sign considered Farn’s words, her face impassive. She turned to aside, listening to the words of someone speaking behind her.
“Four more Blends,” Plinth said into the silence. “Same hill as the one these came from. Coming fast.”
Sign shot a look of disbelief at the Rahail. “We don’t feel anything,” she said.
“What you do or don’t feel doesn’t matter,” Plinth replied. “They’re out there, and they’re coming.”
Jaresh turned to the hill Plinth indicated, scanning it for signs of movement, but he couldn’t see anything.
“Keep your Blends Linked with ours,” Farn said to Sign. “We can hide you better that way.”
She grimaced in distaste, but heeded Farn’s advice — or at least Jaresh assumed she did since the OutCastes didn’t pull away.
“They know we’re here,” Query said. “They’re moving to intercept.”
“Link them as soon as you can,” Farn said. “After that, we need to get moving. I don’t like being stopped here out in the open.”
A moment later, four individuals, three men and woman flickered into view, their Blends Linked with those of the Ashokans. It was Rukh, two men Jaresh didn’t know, and Jessira.
Jaresh dismounted, grinning widely. His brother was alive. Before he knew it, Rukh was standing before him and pulling him into a firm embrace. Farn was there as well, grinning just as widely as Jaresh.
“What are you two doing here?” Rukh asked, appearing as stunned as Jaresh could ever recall seeing.
“We were sent to bring you home,” Farn said, quickly explaining the commutation of Rukh’s sentence.
“We should get moving,” Jaresh said, glancing about nervously. “We’ve been stopped too long as it is.”
“Agreed,” Farn said.
“Where do you intend to go?” one of the men with Rukh asked, apparently taking command of the OutCastes from Sign.
“Back to Ashoka,” Farn said. “We’ll search for any other survivors, and then we’re going home.”
“Another three Blends,” Query said. “This time from the south.”
“Devesh damn it!” Farn said. “Should we just make camp here and wait for everyone to show up?”
*****
Sign Deep was glad to give over command of the Shadowcats and the other twenty-nine warriors from various units to Cedar. He was the only officer amongst them, and so far she was finding that the crown of leadership was a thorny helm. After the Queen’s attack on the East Gate, Sign had been charged with leading those who had escaped the slaughter to safety. Her goal had been a large cavern filled with food, water, and weapons — established for just this kind of emergency.
But soon afterward, Chimeras — Tigons, Braids, and Ur-Fels — had caught their scent. The Strongholders had been forced to flee. But always the Chims were right behind them. A few times, the OutCastes had escaped the traps all around them through the simple expedient of hiding. Luck was on their side, and they always managed to find a place to hole up just before a group of Suwraith’s beasts marched by. Sign had kept her people moving and alive, but without any real plan on what to do next.
Hopefully, Cedar could do better, even if it meant relying on the Purebloods. Maybe they would all turn out to be like Rukh: open-minded and humble. It flew in the face of everything she knew about Purebloods and the history of her own kind. But then here was Farn Arnicep. During his time in Stronghold, he had been treated just as poorly as Rukh. He had likely been just as angry about it. But despite it all, Farn was still willing to help the OutCastes, going so far as to offer them sanctuary in Ashoka itself. If so, she would bless him to the stars
Of course, she still wondered about his appearance back in Stronghold on the same day as Suwraith’s arrival. It was a monumental coincidence, but Cedar trusted Farn, and Sign figured she would have to as well — unless she was given a reason not to.
“Sir,” an Ashokan said. “Those people from the south … their Blends aren’t very good.”
Sign grimaced. Prior to Rukh’s demonstration in the Trials of Hume, she had never given credence to any of the fables about Pureblood abilities in the use of Jivatma. She had been wrong about Kummas, and apparently, she was wrong about Murans and Rahails as well. When the Silversuns had approached, none of the OutCastes had known Cedar and the others were there until long after the Ashokans had detected them. And now, this group from the south … Sign couldn’t sense the Blends the Ashokans seemed to so easily feel.
Sign didn’t like feeling inferior, and right now, she felt distinctly so. After the horrific tragedies today, it seemed such a petty emotion to hold onto, but she clung to it anyway. It was a way to occupy her mind and help her forget … She choked back a sob. Peddananna and Peddamma, Kart, Jeshni, the children, and so many others — all dead. Her city dead. Her people … a single tear streaked a clean line down her dusty face. The Sorrow Bringer was well-named. Sign felt a sob catch in her throat.
“We’ll cry when the time is right,” Jessira whispered, squeezing her hand. She must have noticed Sign’s grief. “You need to stay strong.”
Sign nodded and wiped away the tear. Her cousin was a pillar of strength, and strength is what they all needed. That and courage. She prayed her people — the few who remained — would have enough of both to see them through the terrible days to come. Court stepped to her side. Quiet as he usually was, somehow his presence had always been comforting. He put his arm across her shoulder, drawing her into a brief hug before letting her go. He stayed with her, though, for which she was grateful. She couldn’t imagine life without her strong, silent brother.
“Three Blends,” Cedar, moving to stand next to them. “I can feel them now.”
“So do I,” Rukh said. He stood with his family: Jaresh and Farn.
Cedar stepped away from the other Strongholders. “I’ll let them know we’re here,” he said. He dropped his Blend and stood in the midst of the pass, waiting for those approaching to notice him.
A flicker to the south revealed those who were coming, and Sign’s mouth dropped. Terror hit her with the force of a hammer, and she gasped in shock.
&nb
sp; Standing no more than thirty feet away were three Baels. The fragging bastards could Blend! The world was doomed if Suwraith could give Her demonseed creatures Humanity’s Talents.
Rukh and Jessira shouted for the Ashokans to hold off their attack.
“It’s Li-Choke,” Rukh explained to Farn. “You remember him. He was with us in the Hunters Flats.”
Farn appeared as stunned and fearful as Sign. “One of Dirge’s Baels?” He sounded doubtful.
“Let them approach,” Jessira said. “Choke is a friend. They all are if we allow it.”
At a gesture from the brute in the center — the one with the most feathers — the Baels fell to a knee, planting their tridents firmly against the ground. Their chained whips remained coiled at their hips. From behind them came a happy cry.
“Cedar,” a voice shouted. A woman dashed out from behind the Baels. Laya! Sign gave a happy shout, as did Jessira and Court. Cedar ran forward, inarticulate in his joy. Tears streamed down Sign’s face as she watched them embrace. It was a small enough gesture of hope on a day filled with uncountable tragedy. With Laya came two young girls, both under ten.
The Baels remained rooted to the ground. They waited, kneeling as Rukh and several other Ashokans — Farn and Jaresh among them — approached. Cedar held Laya as if he never wished to let her go, and some of Sign’s fear ebbed. It hadn’t been the Baels who had learned to Blend. It had been Laya and the two girls. Somehow, the horned bastards must have coerced Laya and the others to Blend them.
The lead Bael was talking. Sign wanted to hear what was going on. She walked over to them.
“ … she says Chak-Soon saved them from fifty Braids,” the Bael said, gesturing to Laya.
“We would have been dead if not for the Tigon and his claw. He said we were brothers. It was surreal, especially when he asked if I knew you and Rukh,” Laya said, appearing stunned to find herself amongst her family. “I thought maybe I was having a nightmare, but then we ran into these three.” She gestured to the lead Bael. “Li-Choke offered to keep us safe if we Blended them. We didn’t have many options, but then he also asked if I knew the two of you.” She looked to Rukh and Jessira. “I always thought your story about Baels couldn’t be true, but it was. All of it. The Chimeras are your friends.”
