Emily's Saga

by Travis Bughi

  “Maybe the treant finished them off?” Kirke started.

  “Or perhaps it drew the centaurs to the elves,” Leda finished, “and our enemies have slaughtered each other.”

  “Hush now, daughters,” Hanna scolded. “Save your wishing for the pixies and your breath for running.”

  They obeyed and kept moving. As they traveled further and further west, the landscape rose and fell more often. The hills got steeper, and the valleys deeper, until they were practically climbing with their hands to scale the terrain, which only made the going harder. By the time night fell, not one amazon was standing when they took their final break at the top of a particularly steep hill that led into a low valley. Emily did not look forward to climbing down it and was happy to stop. Everyone plopped to the ground with packs following a moment later, and Emily helped her grandmother find a comfortable place to lie down.

  “I swear, if the centaurs don’t kill me, this will,” Chara complained.

  “Don’t say that, Mother,” Emily replied. “I need you too much to lose you.”

  “You’re too kind,” Chara smiled and placed a hand on Emily’s face.

  “We’ll make camp here,” Adelpha said to everyone. “Hopefully, we’ve put up enough distance to make it through the night.”

  She slumped up against a tree with her head tilted back against the bark. Nearly all the amazons were mimicking that position and, therefore, were in complete agreement with Adelpha’s order. Emily looked around until she spotted Belen. Emily inspected the knots on Belen’s hands from afar to make sure they were not loose.

  Stop, she ordered herself. Quartus was clear. You are to keep an open mind.

  Emily thought of Belen’s friends who maintained her innocence, especially of Gaia, and then searched for the bloated amazon. She was leaning against a tree like everyone else but breathing heavier than most. Her weight, so often an aid in combat, was now the bane of her flight. That was not Emily’s concern. She was only interested in Gaia as it related to Belen. What did she think of her leader now? It seemed that although Gaia stole frequent looks at Belen, she also averted her eyes whenever Belen returned the gaze, as though she feared the scorn she’d receive for letting her leader down.

  Emily considered that, but her weary mind concluded nothing.

  As everyone’s breath slowed to a manageable pace, Emily noticed Heliena wander around from the back of the group and sit next to Gaia. It was an odd juxtaposition to be sure: the slim, rare beauty next to the oaf of all women. It made Emily smile at the oddity, and then, to make things even more interesting, Heliena leaned over to speak with Gaia. Gaia looked back at Heliena with a sorrowful glance, and Heliena seemed to be comforting her under a hushed voice. Gaia kept sneaking looks at Belen as Heliena talked, and Emily could only imagine that the conversation revolved around the supposed traitor.

  Emily watched this, her onetime friend lending sympathy to her constant tormentor, and couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealously. Could amazons truly be so petty? She’d done nothing to these women, and yet so many of them avoided her like an unwelcome guest. Then again, though, perhaps she was. She’d been born on the Great Plains, not Themiscyra, after her mother had abandoned her sisters for marriage. As Mariam’s daughter, Emily carried those sins, it would seem. It wasn’t so much that she wanted the attention, but that she had lost valuable allies. Emily knew she could never have enough of those, especially in this forest.

  She decided to distract herself by making her camp. She opened her pack, laid out the thin sheet she slept on, re-counted her arrows, sharpened her hunting knife, ate some dried strips of meat, and drank from her water skin. When all was done, she took up her favorite activity in the world and asked Chara about the unknown.

  “Mother?” Emily asked.

  “Yes, Daughter?” Chara replied.

  “You said there were some creatures in Angor that won’t attack us. Can you tell me what those were again?”

  “Ah, Emily,” Chara smiled. “Your thirst for knowledge is unquenchable.”

  “Is that a no?” Emily joked.

  “Of course not,” Chara laughed. “Which one would you like to hear first?”

  “All of them.”

  And so, Emily’s grandmother told her of the few creatures in Angor that were either not a threat or not as big of a threat. There were the harpies, and Emily interrupted to explain how Lok’har had called Adelpha one. Harpies were small birds that could speak human language in a very annoying manner. They were harmless for the most part, but were semi-intelligent and thus could master a few basic words. Accompanied with squawking and crowing, it would be impossible for anyone to sleep near them. Chara admitted that she had wasted more than one arrow firing into the distance, hoping to silence or scare away a nearby gathering of harpies.

  “Unfortunately, it doesn’t help much,” Chara admitted. “If anything, it only attracts them. And they’re the sneakiest of thieves. They love to steal shiny objects, like a sack of coins I once had. I woke up one night to find it gone, and I know exactly where it went. There’s some rich harpy nest deep in these woods somewhere.”

  After that story to which Emily laughed quite frequently, Chara told of the majestic hippogriffs. They were winged creatures, as well, though much larger than harpies.

  “You remember the pegasi we rode in Lucifan?” Chara asked.

  “How could I forget?” Emily replied.

  In Lucifan, after the knights had saved them, they’d each rode a pegasus to safety. Emily had shared one of the winged, hornless unicorns with Sir Gavin Shaw, and she had enjoyed every moment of it.

  “Well, a hippogriff is similar in size and, just like a pegasus, has four legs in addition to its wings,” Chara explained.

  She continued and told Emily that hippogriffs also had feathers instead of fur, talons instead of hooves, and were altogether far more birdlike than pegasi. They were colorful, too. Their feathers were a patchwork of blue, green, purple, the occasional yellow, and even orange or red.

  “They’re wild for the most part,” Chara said, “though, the elves have managed to tame some and can ride them like the knights do with the pegasi. You’ll probably never see one though.”

  “Why’s that?” Emily asked.

  “They have very good hearing, I’m told, and will fly high up into the trees before we ever get close. The branches are too thick where they live for us to easily spot one hiding up there. It’s just very unlikely we’ll get to see one while we are running for our lives through the forest.”

  “Perhaps another time then?”

  “Yes,” Chara nodded. “Perhaps. So now that you’ve heard about the harmless, would you like to hear about the others?”

  “The kobolds, right?”

  “Right,” Chara confirmed.

  Chara told Emily about the kobolds, and Emily listened with rapt attention. They were little creatures, slightly smaller than gnomes and leprechauns, but not human in appearance. They still walked on two legs and had two arms, but their skin was scaly and ranged anywhere from blue to green in color. Not to mention their tail.

  Kobolds got their name because they often repeated the word as they stalked closer to a kill. They traveled in large packs, preferring the cold, damp, and dark environment of caves and tunnels. Their shiny eyes and acute sense of smell gave them an advantage in such cover.

  “A single kobold, or even a couple for that matter,” Chara demonstrated by holding up her fingers, “is nothing to be worried about. They carry only a sharp stick as a weapon, unless they’ve scavenged something better, and even then they normally can’t use it that well. They’re vermin really, just plain and simple. But that’s why they travel in such large clans, and if you’re ever caught alone near them, you had better get running fast. They’ll swarm over you in moments if you don’t scare them off or get away.”

  “Have the amazons ever had to deal with them?” Emily asked. “Don’t we always travel in big enough groups?”

&nb
sp; “Yes, we do,” Chara nodded, “but sometimes someone, often a youngster like yourself, will travel just a bit beyond the group and get ambushed by the little creatures. We occasionally see them when we pass by caves, but that’s rare as they prefer to hide in the darkness where only their watching eyes are visible. You might see some caves down in these valleys tomorrow.”

  “I hope I do,” Emily replied. “Well, I think I hope I do.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about with nearly two dozen of us to shoot back.”

  By the time they finished their conversation, the last vestiges of light had evaporated and the silent dark had consumed all. The amazons put their heads down with ease, and only the watch kept a wary eye open. It was difficult to recruit volunteers for the duty, but those who had not taken a turn eventually and grudgingly came forward. The process was made easier when Heliena was the first to volunteer, despite how sleepy she looked.

  Emily felt bad for the watch tonight. They would have difficulties keeping awake, but it had to be done, especially now that Emily knew what they had to be on the lookout for. She closed her eyes and let the sleep wash over her.

  And then, a thunderbird screeched.

  Chapter 9

  Emily jolted upright, hand immediately going to her neck to pry off the banshee’s clutching hands. When she felt nothing, she breathed a sigh of relief and let loose her tension. She looked up and let the moonlight pour over her. The moon’s light was soothing, but Emily knew that even that celestial being was now her enemy. The moon had become a clock, ticking down to when the werewolves in the south would shed their humanity and transform from humans into ferocious beasts. The amazons would be locked in the north, where the centaurs could kill them freely.

  Emily heard a noise in the camp, not breathing or shifting, but a tight sound, like the pulling of rope.

  She looked instinctively to Belen and saw Gaia hunched over in front of her, knife drawn and pressed against the ropes that bound Belen’s hands. They both froze when they saw Emily looking at them.

  “Adelpha!” Emily yelled and leapt up.

  “Hurry, you imbecile!” Belen yelled at Gaia.

  Gaia jerked the knife and sliced through the rope.

  “Adelpha!” Emily shouted again.

  Adelpha, along with the rest of the amazons, stirred awake just in time to see Belen jump up and take off running through the forest. Emily was hot on her trail, though, and before any of them could rise, she sprung and tackled Belen with the full force of her run.

  Together, they toppled off the side of the steep hill.

  They bounced on the ground, breaking Emily’s grip on Belen and sending them spiraling head over heels. Emily reached out all around her, trying to slow her fall by digging her hands into the ground, but all she caught were dead leaves and twigs and her efforts were wasted. They bounced and slid, and for a moment, Emily thought she found her balance until her foot caught a hole and she flipped over again. In all the rolling, she lost track of everything: which direction they were falling, where they were headed, or even if Belen was near her at all. She could only guess because, through her own grunts and cries of pain, she heard Belen’s, too.

  Finally, Emily hit level ground and slid to a stop across the dead leaves. She was lying face down in the dirt, but that mattered little because her entire body was covered in the debris that littered Angor’s floor. She felt bumps, bruises, pains, and aches up and down every part of her body. She was worried she might have broken something and moved her limbs slowly to test them.

  She hadn’t, yet still she moaned because she could not recall ever being so sore. Slowly, she tried to rise, lifting her head up enough to look about. The moonlight barely reached down through the trees into the deep ravine she was in, but there was enough light for Emily to see Belen just ten paces away from her.

  Belen, looking just as battered and bruised as Emily, lifted her head as well, and the two made eye contact. They both struggled to stand, and it was Emily who regained her balance first. Instinctively, she reached her hand around to grab her bow, but her hand touched nothing. She remembered it was back at the camp, along with Belen’s bow and both of their quivers. Belen also tapped her back without thinking, and a look of shock and vulnerability overcame her face.

  Emily reached to her belt and pulled out her knife. She drew it up and held it menacingly.

  “Give up, Belen,” Emily said. “You’ve given yourself away now. You’ll never get back to Drowin.”

  “I don’t give a damn about some smelly vampire,” Belen replied. “I’d rather go back to my husband than bet my life on your judgmental fear!”

  Emily was about to respond, but she didn’t get the chance. Belen sprinted to close the distance and lunged at Emily with such ferocity that she barely had time to react. Emily swept her knife across her chest, attempting to cut Belen with her own force, but Belen’s hands didn’t reach for Emily’s throat like she’d predicted. They instead wrapped around Emily’s knife-hand, and the two women were thrown to the ground, struggling over the weapon.

  Belen, having thrown Emily on her back, shifted her weight and straddled Emily, pinning the latter’s body to the ground. Belen held Emily’s wrist in one hand while trying to pry her fingers off with the other, and Emily tried desperately to kick the older woman away. When that didn’t work, Emily tried to roll or push her down, but Belen had more weight and wouldn’t give Emily the chance she needed.

  Belen kept low and, when she couldn’t pry loose Emily’s grip, put both hands over Emily’s to try and force the knife down towards her.

  “Do you remember my promise?” Belen asked through a grunt.

  Emily saved her breath for pushing back, trying to prevent Belen from stabbing her throat. She grunted and pushed, but Belen was older, stronger, and had gravity on her side. Emily could only panic and watch the knife descend lower and lower toward her.

  “Die, farmer,” Belen spat.

  Then, they heard noises. There were little voices and scratching sounds, and a strange hissing noise. To Emily’s relief, Belen paused in her efforts, but when Belen’s face turned from curiosity to fear, Emily’s relief faded.

  “Oh no,” Belen said.

  She abandoned the knife and jumped off of Emily. Her eyes scanned the darkness around them before turning to run. She only took one step before something burst through the shadows to land in front of her.

  It was as tiny as a gnome but covered in scaly skin from its toothy snout all the way to its whipping tail. In its scaly hands, it carried a sharp, pointy stick, which was pointed at Belen.

  “Kobold!” it said.

  Then the voices were all around them.

  “Kobold!” to Emily’s left.

  “Kobold!” to her right.

  “Kobold!” just behind her.

  Emily gasped and spun around, lifting herself and holding her knife up.

  In the darkness, she saw countless numbers of tiny, shiny eyes glimmering at her. They winked on and off as the kobolds blinked at the two women. One by one, they started popping out of the deeper shadows and into the moonlight. Most brandished sharpened sticks that were longer than the kobolds were tall, but a few had knives, one of which was obviously of amazon make.

  “Kobold!” another said and licked its scaly snout with a long, pointed tongue.

  “Back!” Belen shouted and kicked a kobold that came too close. “Get back, vermin!”

  The kobolds were pouring in from all directions, hissing, cackling, and shouting their name. They pointed their weapons at the two women and made jabs when they weren’t watching. Emily and Belen, in an ironic twist, were pushed together until they were back to back.

  “There’s about twenty amazons headed this way!” Emily threatened.

  “It lies!” one kobold replied.

  “No like lies!” another shouted.

  “Kill it!” yet another cried out.

  “Kobold!” they all cheered.

  One poked his primitiv
e spear at Emily, and she deflected it with her knife, but the moment her eyes were turned another spear was thrust at her from the other side. She spun back to block it, but two more spears were jabbed forward. She blocked one and the other dug into her leg, drawing blood.

  “Kobold!” they shouted.

  Emily fought back. She lashed out with her legs and kicked a kobold in the jaw. He spun up and over the others, but another one replaced him in seconds. One tried to jab her again and she grabbed the spear. When the kobold didn’t let go, Emily swung it sideways, lifting the scaly creature into the air and flinging it back into the darkness.

  Another one took his place.

  There were too many. They choked the landscape with their bodies and clogged the air with their smelly, rancid breath.

  “Kobold! Kobold! Kobold!” they chanted.

  Emily risked a glance over her shoulder and saw that Belen had managed to steal a spear from one of the things. She was swinging it in wide arcs, trying to keep the little creatures at bay.

  Emily turned back and saw one of the kobolds had inched closer while her head was turned. His spear was held forward, and he realized he had been spotted. Emily went to kick him back, but in an unexpected show of bravery and cunning, the kobold jumped forward. Emily’s leg passed harmlessly under him, and his spear soared with him towards her chest.

  Is this how I die? Emily thought.

  She brought her knife up to deflect the blow, hoping against hope that she could bring it up in time.

  Then, suddenly, the kobold was plucked out of the air and pinned to a nearby tree.

  All sound and movement stopped. Two human eyes and many non-human ones looked in wonder at the kobold. It was motionless, seemingly hung against the tree by nothing but air. Emily saw what held it though, barely. There was an arrow protruding out of the kobold.