The large warrior grabbed the wolf and hoisted it high in the air, squeezing as he hugged it tight. The wolf squirmed and thrashed, but couldn’t break free. Neither could Rosh crush the life from the wolf, which left the onlookers amazed. Finally, Rosh panting from exertion, he threw the wolf to the ground, stunning it again.
It rolled to its feet, jaws snapping, but not in time to avoid Rosh grabbing its legs. He held one hind leg and one front leg, each in a different hand, and he squeezed and twisted them, but the bones wouldn’t snap. With a frustrated grunt, Rosh spun around, picking the wolf off the ground with his grip, and threw him from the village and into the jungle. They heard the sound of crashing, then no more.
Rosh stood breathing heavily, covered in dirt, sweat, fur, and a little saliva. The sudden silence was broken quickly by cheering from the natives. Rosh was once again the subject of worship, with the tribal people clamoring to touch him or prostrate themselves before him. Dexter ignored the fuss, moving instead towards the ring of torches at the edge of the village. He peered out, into the depths of the jungle, but found there was nothing he could see.
He turned away and saw Xander running up to him, panting from his exertions. “Captain,” he gasped, then had to breathe a moment before he could continue. “I can’t find Logan anywhere. He’s not in the village… it’s just not that big.”
Dexter turned to look out at the jungle again. Either the priest had disappeared completely or he was out in the jungle, naked. If Rosh hadn’t been able to kill that wolf, he wondered what chance Logan had.
He nodded to Xander and turned him away from the jungle. “Let’s be off. Sooner we leave this place the better, I’m thinking.”
“What about Logan?” Xander asked.
“If he can be found, we’ll find him,” Dexter answered cryptically.
Xander nodded, apparently satisfied, and hurried off to help the others ready their gear. Dexter glanced back at the jungle and shook his head, then went to gather up Logan’s effects in the unlikely hopes they would find him again.
The tribe’s shaman approached him, her breasts swaying with each step in a way that reminded him Rosh had just bedded her. He forced himself to look away, blushing as he did so, and took a deep cleansing breath.
When she spoke, Dexter was forced to focus on her, but her incomprehensible words just rolled over him. He turned, casting about for help, and found Keshira already heading towards him. Her smile was ever present as she approached. The native girl spoke again when she stopped.
“She wants to know if I am your woman too,” Keshira told him.
Dexter coughed, choking a little in response to the question.
“And how is it you have two woman when the giant white God has only one?” The pleasure golem added.
Dexter glanced skyward, staring at the full moon above, and wished fervently to be back sailing through the void on his ship. “Tell her that… no, it’s none of her business. Bah!”
Keshira stared at him patiently while Dexter got his thoughts in order. Finally he felt calm and sane enough to speak. “Tell her we need to leave now.”
Keshira spoke and the witch-woman responded, showing some signs of agitation. She stared at Dexter waiting for a response. Her gaze unsettled him, but he just opted for a faint smile much like Keshira wore while she translated for him.
“Sara – her name is Sara – says that it is dangerous at night, more jungle demons like the one that attacked the white God earlier. She has never seen a demon such as it, do we know what it was?” Keshira said.
Dexter frowned. “It was a wolf. I’ve seen them in a few ports on different worlds. Don’t they have any dogs here?”
Keshira relayed the message while Dexter waited impatiently. “Gods this is a pain,” he muttered.
“Captain, use your bond to me, we are close enough for you to hear and speak through me, “ she offered.
“I can… that’s a neat trick,” he said, considering it. Sara spoke again and Dexter nodded, then focused on Keshira and the strange link he had with her that he’d never fully understood. Within seconds he found it and tried to imagine himself hearing through her ears.
“There are no such creatures here, animals or demons. It must have taken the shape of an animal the white God knows of.”
Dexter gasped, realizing she made perfect sense now. It was disorienting, hearing her words from a place that was not his own ears.
“We sent the wolf running; we’ll handle any other demons the same,” Dexter reassured her. “We don’t have time for wasting.”
She nodded and bowed her head. “I will fetch my spear. Meet me by the western fires.”
Dexter pulled himself back from Keshira and heard the same sounds around them of natives settling in after the attack. It caused a brief sense of vertigo as he adapted to hearing with his own ears again. He turned away, heading to where his people were gathering to give them the news.
They met Sara at the western fires. A path led away through the jungle, flanked on either side by a torch that was lit with the brands from the anti-jungle demon dance. Sara led the way between them, spear raised in front of her as though she expected to be attacked instantly.
As each of them passed through the ring of torches the noise of the village dropped away. Dexter looked back, surprised, and saw everything looked as it appeared, yet there was an audible difference between one step and the next. He saw the others looking around with questioning or surprised expressions as well.
“Come,” Sara said anxiously, then led them away.
Dexter followed then abruptly stopped when he realized he had heard and understood their guide without any help from Keshira. Xander grunted when he ran into Dexter from behind, making the Captain stumble forward as well.
“Hush!” Sara berated them for the noise they made, then hurried on. Dexter and Xander looked to one another, then moved to follow.
The journey through the dark jungle was filled with tension. Sara would lead them quickly through the tropical darkness then abruptly stop and urge them into silent hiding. They waited countless times in the dark, hoping that whatever creature she sensed would pass them by. Only twice did they see anything themselves. Once it was a creature that moved along the ground, its many legged shape blurring into the dark shadows as it hunted for its prey. It was the size of a large dog itself, though possessing at least six legs and a menacing looking tail. The other was a group of beasts that they heard rather than saw. The pack moved through the trees ahead of them, crossing their path but not stopping.
When the darkness began to lift with dawn Dexter was relieved to see the others looked as tired as he felt. Their clothing was smudged with dirt and clung to their skin from the sweat that left them dripping. Insects that had plagued them all night became visible as the sun’s rays broke through the thick jungle canopy, insects that were almost large enough to serve as a meal themselves.
Jenna hissed, coming to a halt in front of Dexter and causing him to jump to the side to avoid running into her. He bounced off the smooth bark of a tree and felt his shoulder and neck wrapped in something sticky. He pulled away from the tree, turning to look and see what he had run into.
A flash of dark brown alerted him out of the corner of his eye. He tried to spin away, but his body was tired and too slow to react in time. Sara crashed into him, driving him to the ground while she brandished her spear above him.
Confused by the sudden attack, Dexter nevertheless had the presence of mind to defend himself. He rolled back and grabbed her legs, knocking her off balance and making her fall on top of him. He heard the explosion of air from her mouth as she collapsed on him, her breasts cushioning the impact of her chest against his face. She was yanked away even as he felt something that resembled a red hot poker stab into the back of his shoulder.
“Kill it!” Sara shouted, though Rosh, who held her, had no idea what she talking about.
Xander gasped and stood paralyzed as he stared. Keshira acted where t
he wizard did not. She leapt forward and ripped the spider-like creature off of Dexter’s shoulder and squashed it between her hands, then threw the corpse into the weeds. She wiped her hands on her pants and hurried to check on Dexter.
“What in the void was that?” Dexter grumbled, trying to sit up.
“Hold him! The poison works quickly,” Sara said.
“Poison?” Dexter asked, eyes wide. He glanced at his shoulder but could see nothing. “Rosh, let her go!” He barked.
Rosh released his grip, though his face showed a great concern for why he ought to do that. She hurried over and tugged at Dexter’s shirt, pulling it away and showing the round wound in his flesh that was already beginning to swell. A sickly pale green fluid leaked from the hole.
“My spear, I must cut the wound to suck the venom out or you will die,” she told him.
Dexter nodded, his shoulder feeling warm and starting to itch already. He pulled a knife from his belt and handed it to her. “Use this,” he told her, though he spoke in his language and not hers.
She looked at him, surprise in her expression, then took it and drew it quickly across the bite. Dexter hissed, then gasped again when she crossed the first cut with another one. He looked around, feeling a little uncomfortable at the special treatment.
Sara’s lips pressed to his shoulder and he could feel the suction. Her teeth worked at the wound, preventing it from swelling shut while she sucked.
Dexter hissed at the agony of her ministrations. Both the constant aggravation of the wound as well as the strong suction that made it feel as though she was trying to suck his lungs out through his back. He case about for some sort of distraction and found it when he saw Jenna one on knee herself, staring at him concernedly while her hands worked at her legs and feet.
Dexter gasped, his own situation momentarily forgotten. Jenna was pulling large leaches off her legs and feet. Before he could react properly to that he felt something building in his shoulder, a great painful pulling that made him grip his thighs and squeeze so tightly he knew he was leaving bruises. He groaned and gasped then felt a sudden intense burst before there was nothing.
Sara was spitting noisily behind him. He turned and saw the puddles of spittle were mixed with red and green, and in one of them there was an almost solid plug of the green stuff. A dull throbbing started in his shoulder and grew until it made him grit his teeth.
“Check your feet… everyone,” Dexter said through gritted teeth. He tried to reach forward to his own boots but the pain in his shoulder made him gasp.
Sara came forward, still spitting out the venom and blood mixture, then helped him with his boots. “What was that?” Dexter asked her, then realized he had no idea how to talk in her language. Xander repeated the question for him while he worked at his own boots.
“Tree crawler,” she explained. “Their bite causes stiffness that spreads quickly. You would have lost your arm within the hour and the rest of your body before noon. It would have called its hive then and you would have been eaten alive.”
Dexter shuddered and let Xander translate what he had already heard. Rosh swore, either at the explanation or because of the leeches he found on his feet, Dexter was not sure.
Of them all, Sara alone was free of any of the bloodsuckers. She explained, when Xander asked her why, that she had removed them as they tried to attach themselves. She walked barefoot through the jungle, which seemed insane to Dexter, but in this case it had served her well.
Soon they were ready to move again. Dexter felt a little woozy from the venom, and his arm was stiff, as promised, but he could move it and he did so regularly to keep it loose. Sara reverently offered the knife back to Dexter but he waved her away and had Xander tell her to keep it. She bowed her head deeply then kissed him on the feet and then the knees.
Dexter stared at her, eyes wide, and saw her rise up smiling and retake the lead. Jenna was watching with a knowing twinkle in her eye. Dexter blushed and held up his hands as if to say he’d done nothing wrong. Rosh laughed and clapped him on the back, then fell in at rear guard.
* * * *
Dexter had long since lost track of time. The day had grown warmer at first, then hotter. Sweat poured from them all, but for him it seemed he was trying to excrete every ounce of fluid in his body out through his skin. He panted as they climbed long forgotten mountain trails that were filled with loose rock and treacherous ledges. Sara kept them safe from the animals of the jungle, but it took a wary eyed Rosh and Keshira to keep everyone safe from the perils of the trail itself.
Twice Xander slipped and skinned himself, once nearly causing a small avalanche that would have left him bleeding and broken at the bottom of a ravine. Dexter needed near constant assistance from Keshira. The venom raged through him, making him slow to react and inflaming his joints with pain. He worked through it, seldom speaking for fear he would need the energy later.
The sun had yet to dip beneath the eastern mountain peaks when Sara called them to a halt in a small vale that was filled with a cool and clear pond fed by a waterfall at the end of it. She dipped a skin at the water’s edge, refilling it, and rose to take a drink. She turned and pointed at the waterfall.
“The ghost of my ancestors tell of a great path behind the water. It is no longer. We must climb to reach the forbidden city. We will rest tonight and climb in the morning,” she said.
“No,” Dexter croaked. He limped stiffly to the water and eyed it warily, then slowly knelt down beside it. With fingers stiff with inflammation, he unscrewed his own skin and dipped it in to fill it. Jenna rushed over to help him but he scowled and motioned her away.
“We go tonight,” Dexter told them. Rosh and Jenna stared at him, confused. Xander was staring as well, but his surprise was not one based in confusion at what he was talking about.
“She’s wanting us to climb that rock tomorrow,” Dexter explained to Rosh and Jenna after he took another long drink. “We don’t have the time, Xander, tell her we’ll be going as soon as we’ve our got wind back in our sails.”
“How… I mean, of course, but how did you understand her?” Xander asked, stammering a little.
“Like you said,” Dexter said, “by paying attention and picking out the bits and pieces.”
Xander nodded, looking thoughtful as he did so, then turned to Sara. He glanced back, as if he wanted to ask another question, but changed his mind and spoke to Sara, conveying Dexter’s wishes.
The native girl frowned, but nodded in agreement, then walked over to study the rock wall that led up the mountainside.
“You think you can climb that?” Jenna asked softly, looking at the imposing ascent. It was an ascent that neared a hundred feet, covered in moss and water from the waterfall in many places.
Dexter looked at the rock wall, studying it briefly but intently. He shrugged. “Don’t reckon I got much choice,” he said.
“Stay here. Rest. We’ll go up and take care of things,” she urged, her tone conveying her concern for him. “Dex, if you slip…”
“You’d have your own ship,” he finished for her, then smiled. “I won’t fall. Trust me.”
She stared at him, eyes narrowing a little. “You better not,” she whispered, “or I’m going to follow you straight to hell and make you regret it!”
Dexter chuckled, but it was short lived when he saw her expression did not falter. She meant it. He nodded soberly and added, “My word on it then.”
She scowled but nodded, then turned away from him to hide the tremble in her lip that he only just barely caught a glimpse of. He let her, realizing he was in no condition to deal with the emotions of an angry woman in addition to everything else.
What he saw next made him wonder if dealing with Jenna’s strange emotions might have been preferable. Rosh was standing on a small rise near where the small lake’s outlet turned to rapids as it descended quickly down the mountainside. He was staring out at the vista of jungle, hills, lakes, and plains beyond.
Dexter
walked stiffly over to him, drinking sparingly but repeatedly to slake his thirst. He stopped beside the large man and enjoyed the view silently, impressed by the scenery.
“It’s beautiful,” Rosh said in a wistful tone. He cleared his throat quickly, then glanced at Dexter before looking away.
“Aye,” Dexter said. “Had we not come through there, I’d be quick to agree.”
Rosh chuckled. “Almost like sailing, being up here,” he said.
Dexter failed to see the similarity. “How’s the wrist?” He asked, changing the subject.
“Huh?” Rosh asked, then glanced down at it. “Damn dog barely broke the skin,” he said, shrugging. “Healed up before I pitched it into the trees.”
“That’s a powerful thing you got there,” Dexter offered.
Rosh grunted. “Yeah, lucky me.”
Dexter looked at him strangely. The Rosh he knew was all about being powerful. Having every advantage he could get and not being afraid to use it. This Rosh beside him made him wonder just what had happened to the man.
“I done a bad thing,” Rosh offered, then sighed. “Shouldn’t have bedded that girl.”
One piece of the puzzle clicked for Dexter. “You and Willa not done yet?”
The warrior shrugged. “Damned if I know… for sure we are now though.”
“Thought you felt that was best?” Dexter asked, a little confused given the man’s prior behavior.
Rosh’s shoulders were getting a workout from all the shrugging he was doing. “Hell Dex, I don’t know. Lots of things got me spinning. I didn’t ask for none of this.”
Dexter nodded, feeling partially responsible since he’d asked the elders to heal him. Still, having problems was better than being dead, he figured. Death meant no more problems, just one final answer.
The silence stretched on for a long moment between them. Dexter took another drink then glanced behind him to see Sara fixed upon a single spot on the wall; she’d found their path to the forbidden city.
Voidhawk: The Elder Race Page 17
