by Travis Bughi
Emily bit her lip and looked out towards the centaurs. It had come to her last night in the cave, the idea that this violence could only be ended with a sacrifice. Then, just maybe, no one else would have to die, and Chara and Adelpha could make it home safely. When they had exited the cave and saw the centaurs gone, Emily had been relieved and hopeful. However, now she could see that hope had been in vain.
“We give Lok’har what he wants,” Emily said, turning her face away. “We give him the one responsible.”
For a moment, no one said anything. Whether it was due to contemplation or shock, Emily could not be sure, though she hoped it was the later.
“That’s absurd, Daughter,” Chara said sternly. “Now look, we’ll find a way—”
“No,” Adelpha said softly. “She’s right. Maybe Lok’har will take me, and we can end this here and now.”
“What? You?” Emily asked in surprise. “It was me who made his first son trip with an arrow and me who let the treant loose that swallowed his second.”
“You’re both wrong,” Iezabel spoke up. “It was me who actually dealt the first blow. I killed his first son, and that’s what started this whole thing, so I should go.”
“Pipe down, the both of you,” Adelpha snarled. “I’m the one in charge, so the responsibility falls on me!”
Emily was stunned to hear this conversation happening. She’d fully expected her idea to be met with strong resistance, but instead it was not only being accepted, but also fought over.
They weren’t even sure if the centaurs would take the offer.
“Lok’har!” Emily yelled.
“What are you asking now?” Adelpha pestered, but Emily gave her a stern look.
“Have you made your choice, human?” Lok’har yelled. “Are you going to stay and fight or run and die?”
“How about we make a deal?” Emily asked.
Surprisingly enough, Lok’har did not respond immediately. Emily had expected him to laugh or throw the offer back into her face, but instead, he stayed quiet. His silence suggested that he was considering the offer, all without Emily even arguing for it.
He truly was afraid.
“Make it quick,” Lok’har replied.
Emily’s eyes flew open in surprise. What is going on? she thought. First the amazons accepted her plan of sacrifice without a moment’s hesitation, and then Lok’har wanted to hear her offer. Either the entire world had flipped for one day, or a night of werewolves was enough to change anyone’s mind. Maybe it was working on Emily, too. Maybe that was why she had concocted this scheme in the first place.
“You want to punish those who killed your son,” Emily said.
“Sons!” Lok’har corrected.
“Sons, yes,” Emily confirmed. “You said blood demands blood! So how about we give you those responsible?”
Making an offer to this creature disgusted Emily. She hated the very idea of it, yet there was nothing else that could be done. They could not kill both Lok’har and his centaurs, and so the threat of war was on their hands. If they all survived now, then hundreds or maybe thousands would die later, and Emily would rather sacrifice herself before she let that happen.
The thought still sickened her though.
“Who do you want, Lok’har?” Emily asked, after enough silence had passed.
“I want,” Lok’har paused, his voice hesitating almost as if he were expecting some kind of trick, “the one who shot my son with an arrow the first day you entered my forest—the one who started this—and I want your leader.”
Lok’har’s voice ended in a snarl, and there was a hum of approval from his centaur ranks.
“And then you will consider us even?” Emily asked. “Blood for blood, and you will stop hunting us?”
“I will let you pass,” Lok’har replied. “Both now and in the future. Just give me the ones who killed my son!”
The centaurs, normally so quick to cheer for their leader, remained quiet. Angor’s silence hung heavily over the solemn events that were unfolding. Despite hating the outcome, both sides had no choice but to accept the compromise.
Emily sighed. There was no other way out.
“Okay,” Emily said, turning to the others. “So, me and who else?”
“You?” Iezabel scoffed. “The centaurs have seen my face, stupid girl. I’m going, and that’s that.”
“And one other thing,” Adelpha said, “You’re not the leader, Emily. I am. I’m also going.”
“No,” Emily shook her head in anger. “It was my idea, and I’m not letting anyone else go in my place. And besides, Adelpha, you’re free and clear.”
“How’s that?” she replied, cocking a skeptical eyebrow.
“Remember when we cut the treant loose and Lok’har surrounded us?” Emily said. “He asked us where the others were and where our leader was. He doesn’t know whom our leader is. I could go in your place.”
“Well, you’re not,” Adelpha replied, shocked at Emily’s suggestion. “And it isn’t up for argument.”
“Wait,” came a soft voice behind them.
The amazons turned around to look at Heliena. She had her head down, almost as if her suggestion would be instantly shot down. It was times like these that Heliena truly puzzled Emily. Adelpha’s younger sister could be ice cold and confident one second, silky smooth the next, and then explode in anger a moment later. She appeared weak when she wanted to and strong when she needed to be. It was certainly different from the fiery attitude that Adelpha always showed, and Emily couldn’t help but be interested in it.
“Why don’t we give them Belen?” Heliena asked more than suggested.
The amazons’ eyes widened at the suggestion. It was a surprising thought, clever and yet cruel. No longer would this be a moment of virtuous self-sacrifice; instead, it would be a moment of vengeance. Emily paused, not quite sure she was comfortable with the idea.
“What!?” Belen yelled when the amazons’ faces clearly showed consideration. “That’s a horrible idea! I thought I was to receive a fair trial! I’ll tell them all of your lies! They’ll know I’m not the leader when they see me tied up like a prisoner!”
“That’s because you are a prisoner,” Chara growled, “and I’d sooner see you sacrificed than one of my own daughters. You tried to escape and kill Emily with her own knife. You deserve no trial, only a sentence.”
Chara’s voice was full of passion. Adelpha and Emily had argued back and forth on who would go to die, but neither had turned to see Chara boiling in anger and sadness at the thought of either option. To Chara, Heliena’s suggestion was the only viable choice.
“I’d see you dead before anyone else in this group,” Chara said again to Belen.
Around the circle, there were slow nods of agreement and consent. Belen tried to make a run for it, but she was tackled and her arms re-bound. She screamed at those who held her down, but she was silenced with a swift kick to the gut.
“I’ll make sure they don’t believe her words,” Iezabel said, her voice a bit morbid.
“You’re not going,” Adelpha said.
“Yes,” Iezabel replied angrily. “I am. I have to. They’ve seen me. If you send anyone else, they’ll know it’s a lie. You heard the centaur speak of me.”
Adelpha’s face twisted in defiance, but there was nothing she or anyone else could say. Iezabel was right. If anyone else attempted to go in her place, they might ruin the entire plan. Then Lok’har would hunt them down and kill them all. Not now maybe, but anytime they tried to pass through Angor, and that meant no more trips to Lucifan or anywhere else. It could be worse than that, even. Lok’har might bring the fight to the amazons, and that would mean a bloody and devastating war.
Already, some of the amazons were shedding tears for Iezabel, Emily included. Adelpha’s eyes stayed dry all the way up until she gave Iezabel the permission she hadn’t asked for.
“Alright then,” Adelpha said, bringing a wrist to her eye. “You can go. Take the traitor wi
th you.”
“Thank you,” Iezabel said softly, “and one more thing.”
“What?” Adelpha sighed.
“Give this to my daughter,” Iezabel replied and held out her bow.
Adelpha looked at the treantwood bow, clearly unwilling to grab it, as if doing so would seal Iezabel’s fate beyond a shadow of a doubt. However, Iezabel insisted with a glaring eye, and Adelpha took it.
“I will,” the princess said.
The amazons broke ranks then to hug and kiss Iezabel goodbye. Fresh tears were pouring down their faces, wetting cheeks that were already damp from crying over the other casualties of this trip. When it came time for Emily to say goodbye, she found it difficult to look into Iezabel’s eyes and even harder to look away.
“Hey,” Iezabel said. “Just remember those tips I gave you on shooting a bow and you’ll be fine.”
“Yeah,” Emily replied quietly. “I will.”
She tried to think of other things to say, but nothing seemed worthy of the time it would take. Iezabel made it easier by turning away and looking towards the centaurs.
“You all had better get going,” she said a bit louder and walked over to Belen. “I’ll handle this one. On your feet, traitor.”
Belen looked shocked and angry, then spit on Iezabel.
“You’ll have to drag me,” Belen replied, holding her chin high.
“Fine by me,” Iezabel shrugged.
Belen tried to kick back as Iezabel grabbed ahold of the restraints, but she only fell. No amazon was a weakling, Iezabel included, and she dragged Belen along the dirt. Belen shouted, screamed, kicked, and even tried to wrap her legs around trees. Iezabel just kept leaning and pulling, her arms strengthened from decades of firing arrows.
“Come on, let’s make it count,” Emily said, wiping another tear from her eye. “Get out of here, Belen! You’re not in charge here anymore!”
At first, the amazons seemed confused, and then, one by one, they picked up on what Emily was suggesting.
“That’s what you get for leading us into this mess!” Adelpha yelled at Belen.
“We’ll get a new Queen before you’re even dead!” Hanna shouted.
And so the insults rolled out. Belen’s shouting and screaming no longer seemed like the cries of an innocent person being drug off against her will, but instead the cries of a commander facing a full scale mutiny. As Iezabel approached Lok’har, Emily watched the centaur speak to her and point accusingly at Belen. Iezabel spoke fast and then pointed towards the amazons, to which Lok’har nodded and then motioned with his hands towards his own warriors. From behind the trees, centaurs swept down and tied Iezabel’s hands. They surrounded their two prisoners and, with only the slightest glance back, turned to retreat into the forest.
“No last parting words, huh?” Leda asked her mother.
“There’s no more time,” Hanna replied. “With two prisoners, Lok’har will need every second left in this day to get out of werewolf territory before nightfall comes again.”
The amazons didn’t move right away like the centaurs did. They watched until Iezabel had completely faded from view and disappeared into the forest. Even after she was gone, the women stayed quite still, unable to turn their backs on the one they’d let walk away. Emily’s head dropped after a while, and she stared at the ground, thinking over and over in her mind that none of this should have ever happened.
But it had, and it was terrible. The only reconciliation now was that it was finally all over.
“We better get moving.” Adelpha broke the silence.
All together, the amazons wiped away one last tear.
Chapter 18
They left at a walk. Everyone was tired, dirty, sweaty, and drained of enthusiasm. In Lucifan, there had been nearly two dozen amazons, and now only half that number remained. This trip had cost them dearly. Emily couldn’t help but hang her head low and ponder the situation.
“How are you feeling, Daughter?” Chara asked.
“Not well,” Emily admitted, though Chara obviously knew that already. “I just, I can’t help but feel responsible for all of this, and Belen.”
“Well,” Chara’s voice exposed disgust, “that is absurd. What Belen did is not your fault. In fact, if it was not for you, we might never have known her plans, and then who knows how many more would be dead. Adelpha would be, for one, and me, too, most likely.”
“Yeah,” Emily nodded. “That’s true, I guess. But I’m the one who tripped Lok’har’s son when we first entered Angor. That’s how Iezabel had a chance to shoot him. If I hadn’t done that, he never would have come after us.”
“You can’t look at it that way either, Daughter,” Chara placed a warming hand on the back of Emily’s neck. “If you want to look at it that way, blame me and Adelpha for teaching you to shoot. Or blame Mariam for having you in the first place, or blame me for having Mariam, or blame Lucifan for giving us all a common place to meet. You can’t go around blaming yourself for everything. For every mishap, there’re far too many hands involved for one pair to carry the entire burden.”
Emily sighed and looked into Chara’s eyes. I’m glad I still have you, she thought and cracked a faint smile. Chara smiled back and tilted Emily’s head forward to plant a small kiss on her forehead.
“That’s it then,” Chara said. “Now, watch the landscape change.”
And over the course of the day, it did.
The first thing Emily noticed was how the trees grew closer together. When they’d first entered Angor, Emily thought the trees were too painfully close, but now they were pushing even closer. They were thinner, too, with bigger leaves, not quite the massive pillars that looked as if they could hold up the sky. Now they stood like conscripts, power in numbers, with only the occasional, massive tree defying the rest.
The bushes were changing, too. There were not only more of them, but they were also larger and thicker. They spread like grass on the Great Plains, covering every inch of ground, root, and tree they could reach. They grew together and amongst each other, ever thicker as the amazons marched south, until Emily was sure the entire ground was just one massive plant.
The visible dirt beneath their feet receded from the encroaching overgrowth, and Emily found less and less solid footing ahead of her. Over her head, the leaves of the trees grew bigger, the sun grew brighter, and Emily noticed a peculiar sight.
Occasionally, Emily saw a thin branch with no leaves, spanning from one tree to the next. It was strange because it hung limp like a rope, not sturdy like a normal branch. As Emily followed it with her eyes, she noticed the strange branch didn’t seem to originate from any one tree. The branch grew up out of the ground, wrapped around trees, and then weaved through their tops.
“What kind of plant is that?” Emily asked and pointed it out to Chara.
“That’s what we call a vine, Daughter. They slither through the jungle like a basilisk,” Chara said after glancing at the vine for a mere moment.
“We’re in the jungle already?” Emily smiled.
“Close enough,” her grandmother confirmed. “Can’t you hear the difference?”
Emily paused and strained her ears. The amazons’ footsteps had become louder thanks to all the plants they now had to step on or over, so Emily did her best to block them out and listen beyond. When she did, the jungle sounds came alive.
The leaves were moving in the breeze, their large size catching the wind. The trees in Angor had been mostly bark with little to move, but the boundless vegetation of the jungle moved with a whim. It was a comforting, soft rustle that elicited constant sound, and Emily smiled and sighed in relief. She liked sound.
And there were others, too. In the distance, Emily could have sworn she heard laughter, like that of small children. Then she heard a horn, or something similar. The other amazons turned, too, looking around them.
“What is it?” Emily asked to no one in particular.
“The laughter you hear is from pixies,” Chara s
aid.
“And the horn is a manticore,” Adelpha growled.
“Is that bad?” Emily asked, unsuccessful in her attempt to hide the apprehension in her voice.
“Not if we stay clear,” Chara replied and started walking again with the other amazons. “The pixies are likely just playing with the manticore, considering that all they do is play. That’ll put the manticore into a rage, though, and we’re better off just staying clear of that, for now. One day soon, though, you and I will stalk one, Daughter. It’s a rite of passage that I’ve longed to take with one who shares my blood.”
The amazons changed their course, continuing south but turning away from the noise of laughter and horns. Emily was going to ask Chara more about the strange creatures when an odd occurrence distracted her. Heliena tapped on Emily’s shoulder.
“Heliena?” Emily asked, not bothering to hide her surprise.
Adelpha’s younger sister did not meet Emily’s gaze, preferring to keep her head down.
“Hello, Emily,” Heliena said. “I just wanted to say, well done back there.”
“Back where?” Emily asked, still confused by Heliena’s presence.
“Back there, in Angor, with the bugbear, and the centaurs, and the werewolves,” Heliena muttered. “You surprised me.”
Her voice held the tiniest drop of praise, but Emily picked up on it quickly enough.
“Oh,” Emily said, embarrassed by the admiration, “it was nothing.”
“Listen,” Heliena said softly, “I know I can be difficult at times. I’m sorry I was mean to you before. I, I was thinking, maybe you and I can go hunting someday, too.”
“Apology accepted,” Emily replied, her mouth and eyes opening wide. “And yes, I’d like that.”
Heliena smiled beautifully and nodded before dropping back to the end of the group again. Emily watched her go, her mouth still open in disbelief. At first, Emily wasn’t sure how to feel about Heliena’s friendly approach, but after a couple of moments, she decided she liked it. All through the Great Plains, Emily had tried to speak with Heliena to no avail. Only after Emily had risked her life and performed feats of great courage did these amazons take notice of her. At first, it seemed to make the amazons appear fickle and their friendships only skin deep, but then Emily thought of Adelpha. The woman had shown nothing but total disdain for Emily when they’d first met, and yet, after hearing that Emily had threatened a vampire, Count Drowin to be exact, Adelpha had quickly changed her tune. Now, she was the closest friend Emily had besides her own brothers.
