by R. T. Kaelin
“You say you can’t go back?”
Okollu growled, “That is correct.”
“Why not?”
Okollu gave a sharp, furious shake of his head, draped his arms over his legs, and wrung his hands, growling, “Because my pack is bound! We all are! Kur-surus, blade-men, grayskins! We are all bound to the diavoli!” He glared at Rhohn. “It is because of them we are here, smooth-face! This is their war, not ours. Not mine!”
Tiliah glanced over to Rhohn, confused by the mongrel’s words. The Dust Man seemed equally bewildered. Looking back to Okollu, she asked, “What do you mean you are…‘bound?’”
With searing hot resentment burning in his eyes, Okollu said, “Many seasons ago, an outlander entered the lands of the Drept.” Before she could ask for an explanation, Okollu glanced up. “My pack. The Drept are my pack.” A bitter sneer rippled over his black lips. “At least it was my pack.”
He shook his muzzle, huffed, and stared to the horizon.
“Understand that amongst kur-surus, to enter a pack’s territory without permission is to die. So, as tas-vilku of the Drept, I sent a patrol to slay the interloper. The outlander killed the six I sent and continued toward our den. I ordered twenty more. They died as well.”
He shifted his gaze back to them.
“I ordered twenty-six Drept to their deaths and accomplished nothing. Nothing. The outlander used nedabiks—magic—to murder my pack mates. I wanted to destroy him, but against such a foe, we were helpless. Kur-surus who can use nedabiks are rare. The Drept had not had one for three generations. We could do nothing to stop him.”
He dropped his head and stared at the muddy grass, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“I failed as tas-vilku. I failed to protect my pack.”
Tiliah was surprised to feel a flicker of sympathy dance through her.
Okollu lifted his head and continued, saying, “As the outlander neared our den, my mate and I went to meet him, hoping to—” he snarled “—negotiate for the Drept’s safety. We found him atop a hill, waiting for us, his white hair twisting in the wind.” He paused, glanced at Rhohn, and asked, “Did you share the message with her?”
Rhohn nodded in silence.
Okollu growled, “Then you both can guess who it was.”
A deep frown spread over Tiliah’s face. She shared a worried glance with Rhohn before looking back to the mongrel.
“Tandyr?”
Okollu nodded once.
“My mate and I smelled the wrongness in him immediately. When I asked what he wanted, he ordered—ordered—me to call forth my pack. He said he required our service. When I refused, he…” He trailed off and went quiet. The brown and white fur around his eyes bunched together. “When I refused, he killed my mate. One moment, she was standing by my side, the next, she lay on the rocks, lifeless. Her hearts had stopped.”
Tiliah could no longer deny it. She felt sorry for Okollu.
The mongrel growled, “I attacked, but Tandyr held me in place with magic. He threatened to kill every Drept if I did not comply with his order.” The fur along his muzzle bristled in irritation.. “Had I known what he was planning, I would have let him do just that. Cursed by ignorance, however, I called the Drept. Once we were all there, Tandyr turned to the man with him and—”
“Hold,” interrupted Tiliah. “There was a man with him?”
Okollu nodded.
“A small one, cowering behind Tandyr.”
“Who was he?” asked Rhohn.
Fury simmered in the mongrel’s eyes.
“I do not know who he was, smooth-face. But I can tell you who he is. ”
“What does that mean?” asked Tiliah.
Okollu stared at her and said, “I will explain. The man pulled a black, wooden box from his pack and gave it to Tandyr. Inside, rested a strange silver stone.” His eyes went unfocused as his voice dropped to just above a whisper. “It glowed like Saule-acu herself, shimmering and bright.” His black lips twitched. “Yet it was…wrong inside. Wrong like Tandyr is wrong.”
“What was it?” murmured Tiliah, caught up in the mongrel’s tale now.
Okollu shook his head, growling, “I do not know. But it was evil. Wicked and twisted.” He paused a moment before adding, “And with it, Tandyr stole a piece of my garthiba.”
Rhohn repeated the odd word before Tiliah could.
“Garthiba?”
“Soul, smooth-face,” said Okollu. “The closest word in Argot is ‘soul.’”
A moment passed, filled only with the buzzing of the corpse flies and a screech from a blood vulture overhead, before Tiliah muttered, “He…took your soul?”
“Yes,” growled Okollu. “At least a piece of it. He did it to all Drept. And from that moment, we were bound. We had to obey his wishes.”
“Or what?” asked Rhohn. “What if you didn’t obey?”
“You do not understand,” said Okollu. “We had to obey. Not because he threatened or punished. But because of whatever he did with our garthiba.” He tilted his head to stare up to them both. “He stole choice itself from us.”
Rhohn asked, “So you must do whatever he says?”
A low, angry growl rumbled from Okollu’s throat.
“Not him. Another.”
“Who, then?” asked Tiliah
“As my garthiba slipped away, the man with Tandyr began to scream.” He shook his head. “It sounded as if he was being ripped apart from the inside. As he screamed, he…changed. Bone jutted from his head. His skin turned red and cracked like dried mud.” His nostrils flared. “The air smelled of singed hair and burnt flesh.”
“A demon-man?” muttered Rhohn.
Nodding, Okollu said, “When the screaming finally stopped, the creature before us announced his name as Baaldòk, diavol of Chaos and the new tas-vilku of the Drept.”
“He took your pack?” asked Rhohn.
“No,” growled Okollu. “Tandyr took my pack. But he gave it over to Baaldòk.”
“And you did nothing to fight back?” asked Tiliah.
“I wanted to!” snapped Okollu. “Blestem argel, I wanted to! I wanted to rip open his pale throat and spit on the rocks.” He gave a violent shake of his head. “But I did not. I could not. Tandyr’s nedabiks compelled us to obey the diavol!”
Tiliah glanced to Rhohn, worried. Okollu’s tale grew more disturbing by the moment. The Dust Man did not meet her gaze, his eyes locked on Okollu.
“And the rest of the Sudashians?” asked Rhohn. “Does Tandyr hold the same sway over them?”
“He does,” growled Okollu. “My pack was one of the first he subjugated. As word spread of what was happening, other packs joined together to fight him. Blade-men and grayskins did the same. We fought them, killing our own, until Tandyr could steal their garthiba as well. In time, all were defeated and bound to a diavol. Eventually, his great pack turned east, toward your lands.” He turned to stare at one of the dead mongrels. “By then, only half of my pack remained.”
“Half?” said Rhohn doubtfully. “There were over five hundred of you at Ebel.”
“Yes,” growled Okollu. “I know.”
Tiliah waited a few heartbeats to let the solemn moment pass before saying, “I am confused. If you are bound to do what the demon-man says—” she glanced around at the dead mongrels “—how did you do this? I doubt he ordered you to kill them.”
Okollu shook his head.
“No, my orders were to find the stone, kill whoever had it, and return to Tandyr.”
“Then how did you manage this?” asked Rhohn.
Okollu shifted his weight and reached up to scratch behind his ear.
“As Tandyr’s pack grew, the nedabiks binding some of us faded. Somehow, they regained their garthiba. The moment they did, they rebelled and those of us still bound slaughtered them as ordered.” He looked around at the dead mongrels again, adding softly, “This makes twelve Drept I have killed.”
After a few quiet moments, the mongrel looked bac
k to them.
“Soon after we crossed into your lands, I felt the binding slip from me. Unlike the others, I did not rebel. I continued to follow Baaldòk as I always had, obeying his every order.”
Surprised, Tiliah asked, “Why did you do that? I can hear it in your voice. You hated him.”
Okollu glared at her, his eyes simmering.
“More than you know.”
Rhohn spoke up, asking, “You did not want to abandon the Drept, did you?”
Okollu shifted his gaze to the soldier and nodded.
“They are my pack. Mine to protect, mine to keep safe. I needed to find a way to free them.”
Tiliah’s previously harsh opinion of Okollu’s race was quickly changing.
“Well,” began Rhohn with a heavy sigh. “That explains why Tandyr’s army is not tearing itself apart.” Dropping into a crouch, he said, “But I still have not heard where the woman who gave you the message fits. Miriel Syncent? Who is she? What role does she play in this?”
The mongrel lifted his head to stare at Rhohn. He appeared confused.
“You do not know of her?”
Rhohn gave a short shake of his head.
“I would not be asking you the question if I did.”
Turning to look up at Tiliah, Okollu asked, “And you?”
Tiliah gave a silent shake of her head. While the name sounded familiar, she had yet to place why.
Okollu dropped his head and, sounding perplexed, said, “That is strange. She acted as if she were known in your lands, someone important.”
Intrigued, Tiliah asked, “What did she look like?”
“Her skin was fair,” answered Okollu. He looked back up to her. “Much fairer than yours. White, like the clouds. Her hair was the color of the red rocks of my homeland. And her eyes matched the blue of a clear sky.”
Tiliah looked at Rhohn and concluded, “Not a Borderlander.”
Rhohn shook his head, agreeing, “Unlikely, at least.” Peering back to Okollu, he asked, “Is there anything else you remember about her?”
Okollu sat up a bit straighter and said, “She is Rodam Upris.” Glancing between them, he added, “Which must mean nothing to you.”
Rhohn and Tiliah exchanged a look and shrugged their shoulders as one.
Nodding his head, Okollu said, “Rodam Upris is a legend among my kind. The closest words in Argot might be ‘untraceable spirit.’ Miriel Syncent is Rodam Upris.”
Shaking her head, Tiliah said, “I’m in the dark without a torch.”
The fur around Okollu’s eyes twitched.
“You are where?”
Rhohn said, “It means she does not understand what you are saying. Neither do I. What is Rodam Upris?”
“Kur-surus take great pride in the hunt,” said Okollu “No prey can evade us.” He drew a deep breath, held it a moment, and then exhaled. “One night, shortly after Tandyr’s bond had slipped from me, something woke me from my sleep. A figure stood over me in the darkness, blocking the white eye of Zila-acs.”
Tiliah supposed he was speaking of White Moon.
“For reasons I cannot name, I did not attack. Nor did I wake my pack-mates. The stranger said that if I helped her, my pack could be free. All kur-surus could be. I merely had to follow her instructions. I did not believe her, of course, and said as much. Then she insulted me.”
“She what?” said Tiliah, her eyebrows arching.
“She insulted me,” said Okollu. “She said I was a poor example of kur-surus if she were able to sneak up on me like she had. She said that I could not hunt a wounded ralcat on a windless, flat plain. She said I could never catch her, even though she was standing right before me.” His black nose twitched in irritation. “I told her to start running, that I prefer my prey to be on the move when I kill it. Before she ran, though, she said that if I could not catch her before Saule-acu arrived, I must do as she asked.”
Okollu paused a moment and shrugged his shoulders.
“I agreed, only because I expected to kill her shortly. The moment I said yes, she ran, her red hair flashing in the light of Zila-acs. I leapt up and followed her, sprinting through the sleeping pack. She dashed up a rise and behind a boulder. I was on her heels, yet when I came around the rock, she was gone.”
He shook his head in wonderment.
“There was no scent, no sound. I hunted the hills, the trees, I even skirted the camps of the grayskins and blade-men. Still, I found nothing. She was simply gone. When Saule-acu came to light the sky, I stood alone on a hill, wondering if I had dreamt the experience. I turned to hurry back to the Drept and stopped before I took a step. There she was, leaning against a tree, staring at me.”
Tiliah said, “So, then…you agreed to help her?”
Okollu stared up to her. “Of course. One does not disregard a legend when it stands before you. She gave me her name, the message, and the instructions to tell as many men as I safely could.” He turned to Rhohn. “You are the fourth to whom I have given her words.”
“There are others?” asked Rhohn.
“I told others,” said Okollu. “Although I suspect they are dead. They were weak or old. You, smooth-face, are strong. You are the best chance my pack—all kur-surus—have to regain their freedom.”
Tiliah looked over to Rhohn, wondering what he might feel like knowing that he carried the fate of so many on his shoulders. The Dust Man’s scarred face was blank, expressionless. After a moment, she looked back to Okollu.
“And these Shadow Manes he’s to find? Who are they?”
“I do not know,” answered Okollu. “She did not tell me.”
“And the prophecy?” asked Tiliah. “What is that about?”
“Again, I do not know.”
Tiliah frowned, disappointed that so many questions were left unanswered. She studied Okollu, trying to resolve the feelings churning within her now. As a child in Drysa, she had heard dozens of stories about the fearsome monsters of Sudash. Every playman that passed through the village would share at least one tale of the terrible, vicious, soulless beasts. Okollu was none of that.
The three of them remained quiet for a time, each lost in their own thoughts.
A series of screeches announced the return of some of the blood vultures. Looking over, Tiliah saw three of the birds swoop down and alight on the carcass of the horse. Rhohn stared at them, but made no move to chase them away. Okollu eyed the birds as they tore into the horseflesh and then lifted his gaze to the sky to stare at the ones still overhead. She wondered what he would do if the vultures attempted to make a meal of the mongrels.
She was still staring at the birds when Rhohn mumbled, “The stone…” The words slipped from his lips, barely more than a whisper. Reaching for the purse jammed between his belt and waist, he asked, “That’s why you changed your mind, isn’t it?” He pulled the sack free. “Why you let us help you?” Opening the leather pouch quickly, he turned it upside down and dumped the black stone into his hand.
The world went dark.
Tiliah teetered on her feet as a wave of icy nothingness surged through her, around her. For a brief moment, she spotted a number of thick, black strings all around her, covering the sky, grass, bushes. She blinked, terrified. As quickly as they came, the black strands were gone, along with the cold, numbing sensation.
She stared at the onyx stone in Rhohn’s dirty palm. Something was wrong with that gem.
Rhohn held out his hand and asked, “Is this like the stone Tandyr used on you?”
Okollu rose from the ground to stand on his two pawed feet. He leaned forward, staring at the stone from a few paces away, and said, “It is similar, but black, of course.” He sniffed the air once. His lips immediately curled back in a snarl. “It reeks, too. Like a beast cornered in a cave.”
Tiliah breathed in the air. All she smelled was muck and the early hints of decay.
Rhohn picked the stone up with his maimed hand and brought it close to his face, staring at it closely. For some reaso
n, he did not seem as bothered by it as she and Okollu were.
“What is it?” asked the Dust Man. “Why does Tandyr want it?”
Tiliah muttered, “I doubt for any worthy purpose.”
“Put it away,” growled Okollu. “My skin itches.”
Rhohn lowered the stone and eyed Okollu for a moment before slipping the stone back into the pouch. Tiliah was glad to see it disappear again. Looking between them, Rhohn asked, “So what now?”
Okollu nodded to the eastern horizon and said, “You go. And deliver my message.” He glanced back to the pouch. “And take that with you. That should be as far from Tandyr as possible.”
Nodding, Rhohn said, “You’re right.” He looked to Tiliah. “Let’s go.”
“What?” said Tiliah, surprised. She glanced at Okollu briefly before staring back to Rhohn. “Now?”
“Yes. Now.”
Tiliah looked back to Okollu and asked, “What about him?”
“I got what I wanted,” answered Rhohn. “Let’s go.” He began to turn away, already looking to the east.
Tiliah shifted her gaze back to the mongrel.
“What are you going to do?”
Okollu was quiet for a moment before saying, “I do not know. I cannot return without the stone. Tandyr will kill me.”
“Why don’t you go home?” suggested Rhohn. “That’ll be one less of your kind here.”
“Alone?” growled Okollu. “No. I will not abandon the Drept.”
Tiliah pointed out, “What about yesterday? You were begging us to let you die. That’s abandoning your pack, is it not?”
Okollu glanced at the nearby corpses of the other mongrels.
“I was grief-stricken. That is all.”
Rhohn said, “Come, Tiliah. We are wasting time.” He shifted his gaze to Okollu. “I hope your message does what your mystery woman claims.”
“As do I, smooth-face.”
Nodding, Rhohn gave a quiet huff of a sigh and started to walk away. He did not even wish a word of farewell. Then again, neither did Okollu.
Tiliah watched him take a half-dozen steps, shaking her head. As it stood, this plan was never going to work. Something drastic needed to be done. Taking a deep breath, she called out, “I think Okollu should come with us.”
