by Travis Bughi
In that light, Heliena’s approach wasn’t strange at all. It was welcoming, like a pat on the back saying ‘well done!’ or even ‘you’re one of us now.’ It was heartwarming and rather fulfilling.
Emily began to picture her new life with Chara and the amazons—hunting with her grandmother, watching Hanna and Leda give birth to new children, cooking, working, and enjoying life with a group of women who loved to work hard and play hard. Every year she’d travel back to Lucifan with the group and visit her parents and brothers, see the charming knight Sir Gavin Shaw, and then return to Themiscyra. Maybe she’d even make two trips in a year!
Emily even started to imagine making a family in the jungle, raising her own daughter who’d be strong and cunning and would know how to take care of herself right from the start. It wasn’t such a bad thought. In fact, it was rather pleasant.
Emily smiled at that and looked up and around at the jungle. The landscape had fully shifted by now. The bushes were nearly as big as the trees, and the leaves were massive and captured every drop of sunlight. Vines crisscrossed overhead, under foot, and around every moss-covered tree. The dirt below was invisible under the thick growth of plant life that filled every nook and cranny. Even the air was warmer, thicker, and a bit damp. Emily’s short skirt and leather vest were no longer inadequate covering for keeping her warm. They were instead just perfect.
Suddenly, Emily noticed she could no longer hear laughter and horns in the distance. The threat must have passed, and she still had no idea what kind of threat it had been.
“Mother,” Emily said.
“Yes, Daughter?” Chara turned.
“Can you tell me about manticores and pixies?” Emily smiled.
“Of course,” her grandmother replied warmly. “Which do you want to know about first?”
“Manticores.”
“Well, alright then. Hm, let me think if there’s anything you know of that I can compare a manticore to,” Chara tilted her head. “No, I guess not. Well, it runs on four legs, like a unicorn would, only much faster and more agile. It can make large leaps and has three rows of teeth in its mouth. Its fur and mane are red, but its eyes are blue, and it’s about half the size of a bugbear. Course, this is just what it looks like. What you really need to know about is its tail. A manticore’s tail is full of poisonous spikes that can be thrown like arrows in all directions. It flicks its tail and showers its prey with them before moving in for the kill. Not that it needs them, to be honest. A manticore is a ferocious hunter and can rip its prey to shreds in just a few bites.”
“I’m having a lot of difficulty picturing this, Mother,” Emily said truthfully.
“Yes, well,” Chara admitted and paused. “It is a difficult creature to describe. You’d know it instantly if you saw one, but for now, just be sure to avoid any horn-like sound. That’s a manticore’s call, and unless we’re hunting one, you’ll want to stay away from it.”
Emily nodded, thoroughly confused, before saying, “This thing sounds deadly. Why would you and I hunt one? Didn’t you say you wanted to do that?”
“I said we would stalk one. That is different. We wouldn’t try to kill it, just the two of us, but rather practice our skills in tracking and sneaking up on one. Like I said, it’s an amazon rite of passage to do such a thing, showing yourself greater than Themiscyra’s deadliest hunter. After we’ve found one sleeping, we’ll travel back to gather more amazons, then come back and kill the beast.”
Emily nodded, feeling better. She considered asking about the pixies next, but then a memory surfaced in her mind.
“Mother,” Emily started. “Before you tell me about pixies, what’s a gremlin? Belen called me one, and I’ve heard it mentioned before.”
“I’m probably better off explaining them both,” Chara raised an eyebrow. “Pixies and gremlins are like two sides of the same coin, like night and day. Both are small, no bigger than your palm, and both can fly. A pixie looks like a beautiful, small human, whereas a gremlin looks more like an ugly, small ogre, only without all the muscles.”
“I see,” Emily said.
“Yes, now, both creatures like to have fun and laugh. It’s about all they do—play jokes on others, or even amongst themselves if no one else can be found. The difference is in their applications. Pixies have mostly harmless, innocent fun. Their jokes often spark humiliation and get no more painful than tripping you in front of a mud puddle. You’ll hear them laughing all the time. If you don’t, watch yourself, because you’re likely their next target.”
“And gremlins?” Emily asked.
“Gremlins are worse, much worse. Their jokes are nothing short of malicious. They would herd a manticore straight towards us just to laugh as it ripped us to shreds. They make false paths that lead to sand traps that will swallow you whole, or walk you straight off a cliff. Gremlins are nothing short of a menace, so if you hear laughter that sounds more like a cackle of insanity, just walk calmly in the other direction.”
Emily nodded to this. Beyond the pixies, the jungle didn’t sound like a very welcoming place. Between the manticores, gremlins, and basilisks, Emily was beginning to realize why the amazons were so strong in the first place. They had to be in order to survive. Emily wondered if her training had been enough to prepare her for this. Her trials in Angor would seem to indicate so. Emily had already survived situations that her naive mind on the Great Plains could never have predicted, but there was no telling what the future held.
Emily’s mind continued to drift and worry for a few brief moments until she shook herself free of it. What am I doing? Emily thought. Worrying about nothing is for other people, not me. Emily smiled as she thought those words. They’d been Mariam’s words. Emily had once asked her mother if she was worried about the harvest next year, and Mariam had shrugged off the question as irrelevant.
At first, Emily had been confused by Mariam’s response. How was the harvest—their source of food and, therefore, their lives—irrelevant? Not until she was older had Emily understood that what Mariam meant was that there was no use worrying about the future. Next year was a long time away, and a multitude of possibilities existed between now and then. Running into Chara and the amazons was a perfect example of this. If Emily had spent the whole previous year worrying about the harvest, all her worries would account for nothing because she wasn’t even going to be there for the harvest. She was going to be in Themiscyra with Chara.
Although Emily liked this future much better, the memories of her mother brought back a homesickness that she had blotted out while they were running for their lives in Angor. Emily thought of her brothers, her father, and her mother again and hoped that they were doing just fine without her. She remembered her promise to visit them as soon as she could. For now, though, there was a whole new world to see, and Emily would not shrink from it. This was her dream.
As Emily looked up and around, she wondered how long she’d been lost in thought. The sun was hiding behind the thick-leafed canopy, and the time of day hid with it. Emily tapped Chara’s shoulder to get her attention.
“How far is Themiscyra?” Emily whispered.
“Not much farther now,” Chara smiled back. “We’re almost home.”
And then they heard laughter from the same direction as before, but this time it had a sinister tone. Immediately following, they heard a horn.
“Oh, no,” Hanna sighed in anguish.
Chapter 19
The laughter was drowned out as the horn thundered in the skies. It was like a trumpet, deep and musical, and although Emily knew it was the call of manticore, she could not imagine how any creature could make such a sound. The noise was speeding towards them, but was still far enough away for a moment of planning.
“Draw arrows,” Adelpha growled and then muttered under her breath. “Damn gremlins.”
“There’re twelve of us,” Emily whispered to her grandmother. “Is that not enough to kill one of these things? I thought amazons hunted manticores?”
“Yes!” Leda spoke up. “If we hide, even if they find us, we can strike from cover!”
Adelpha nodded and said, “You’re right. Good point. Everyone move!”
The amazons scattered in an uncoordinated fashion that in no way affected its efficiency. Where a dozen amazons had stood in clear view, only Emily remained. The rest of the women took shelter under plants so big and thick that even their tracks were barely visible.
“This way,” Chara whispered and pulled Emily down and into a nearby bush.
The jungle swallowed the women whole, and Emily knelt down next to her grandmother. There was barely enough space for Emily to see out of their cover at all.
To Emily, this was incredible. Just over ten fully grown women had disappeared from sight in no more than a second’s time, hardly more than a few paces from each other. The only thing that came close on the Great Plains was hiding behind hills and in the weeds. The grass grew so tall out on the plains that if one were to lie perfectly flat, they would be hidden from detection unless someone practically stepped on them. However, here, in this landscape, in this very bush, Emily was convinced that even if someone were to walk right up and look directly at her, they still wouldn’t see through the camouflage. She imagined she could shoot her bow at them, too.
“Remain perfectly still,” Chara whispered. “Don’t make a sound.”
Emily nodded.
The cackling laughter and the horn grew ever closer and louder. Emily’s heart beat faster, growing in strength, until, finally, Emily heard voices.
“They were this way! This way!” a high-pitched voice said.
The horn-like sound seemed aggravated now, and Emily heard a crash of bushes and the creak of a tree bending.
“HA!” came another. “It almost got you! HAHA!”
As the gremlins danced around with reckless abandon, one of the creatures came within view of Emily’s hiding spot.
Its wings were thin and transparent. Like Chara had described, it was small and ogre-ugly. However, unlike an ogre, the gremlin seemed remarkably graceful in flight. Not that ogres could fly, but they had been clumsy and slow. From Emily’s concealed position, she watched the gremlin zip through the air and then stop instantly, always laughing.
“Bring it this way!” it said.
The laughter continued, and then a manticore leapt into view crashing to the ground with all four paws.
Emily just about screamed in shock, but she was lucky that her sudden fear stole her breath just long enough for her to regain control. Chara helped, too, by placing a hand over Emily’s mouth.
The manticore was big, easily half the size of a bugbear, and red. When Chara had mentioned that manticores had manes, Emily had imagined a mane like a unicorn, one long line traveling down the back of the neck. This manticore, though, had something entirely different. Its mane was thick and ringed the beast’s entire neck like a huge, puffy collar. It looked so strange and odd that in any other circumstance, Emily might have laughed.
However, nothing else about the manticore was comical. Its eyes were sharp blue, its mouth had three rows of razor-sharp teeth, and its long tail ended in a protrusion of arrow-sized spikes. The manticore’s eyes were dilated, its skin was rippling and twitching, and its fur was standing on end.
It seemed to be looking with unbridled rage right at Emily.
“Pull its ear!” the gremlin in front of Emily shouted.
Another gremlin flew in from nowhere and grabbed the manticore’s ear. It gave a quick tug and then flew off in the opposite direction, laughing all the while. The manticore opened its mouth in a roar, but the sound was like a great horn. The creature flicked its tail and a shower of spikes flung from its tail, chasing the fleeing gremlin. The spikes impaled the ground, some bushes, and even a tree.
“HAHAHA!” the gremlin in front of Emily laughed and gripped its sides. “Now where’d those humans go?”
“Yeah!” came five other, high-pitched voices.
“They were just here, I swear,” the gremlin contemplated.
“Look out!” one screamed.
The manticore soared through the air in a ferocious leap that could have cleared the height of a behemoth. It opened its mouth wide to catch a gremlin, but instead caught only air. The gremlin zipped away to safety, and the manticore landed on the ground with unnatural grace, considering the distance it had fallen.
The gremlins laughed uncontrollably as their partner was almost eaten. One of them barely recovered enough to speak to the gremlin in front of Emily.
“Come on,” it laughed. “We didn’t steal this thing from the pixies for nothing. I want to have some real fun!”
“Yeah!” the others shouted.
“Alright, alright,” the gremlin in front of Emily waved and stifled its laughter to think.
In an oddly human-like gesture, the creature folded one arm, rested his elbow on it, and then placed its chin into the open palm. Then it rocked its head from side to side and began to twirl. Behind him, the gremlins continued to agitate the manticore, sweeping down to bite it and pull its hairs. The manticore jumped and slashed at every opportunity, but even though it was quick and agile, the gremlins were just too nimble.
In front of Emily, the little creature spun and spun again until it made itself dizzy and stopped to cradle its little head. It blinked several times, and shook itself, smiling all the while. As its vision cleared, its eyes shifted and locked onto Emily’s.
She took a sharp breath, and the gremlin’s smile turned into a sinister grin. Emily’s heart leapt to her throat, and she had half a mind to reach out and grab the little creature by the head, but before she could get the chance, the other gremlins screamed.
“Look out!”
The gremlin and Emily broke eye contact and turned to see a shower of spikes fly in their direction.
Several struck harmlessly into the dirt or plants, including one that pierced the ground right next to Emily’s foot. Another struck the gremlin.
To Emily, the spike appeared to be nothing more than a fat arrow. But to the gremlin, it was like a great sword, and the point drove through the creature, slammed it into the ground, and killed it instantly. The gremlin never even twitched. Emily involuntarily stumbled back and crashed into Chara. Her leg slipped in the moist dirt and kicked the dead gremlin, making it slide out of the brush along with a splatter of mud.
“Ah, phooey!” one of the gremlins said. “Now how we will find the humans?”
“Well they’re not here!” another gremlin’s voice faded out.
“Wait! Wait!” called another. “Did you see that?”
The gremlins hovered in place, except those who continued to dodge the snarling manticore. Emily’s heart raced as she steadied herself against Chara, trying not to make any noise.
“I saw it!” another voice cried. “I saw it! I saw it! A foot! It was a foot!”
“They’re here!” they screamed and laughed.
“But where?” another called.
Emily steadied herself, unsure of what to do next. She breathed through her mouth to stay silent, and in a momentary lapse between manticore roars, Emily heard the familiar sound of a bow string being pulled taut.
“There!” one gremlin screamed. “I heard it over—”
Thack went a bow string, and an arrow zoomed out of the bushes and slammed into the little gremlin, sending its tiny body spiraling out into the distance.
“Ahhh!” the little things screamed.
More arrows erupted from bushes, striking gremlins down or otherwise grazing them. The little creatures screamed and darted about, but the amazons gave them no time to stop. Once one of them did, a hail of arrows would assault it, tearing apart its wings or ripping a hole through its chest. Emily and Chara unslung their bows and joined th
e barrage, pulling arrows and taking aim through the tiny gaps between leaves.
Emily sighted one, gritted her teeth, and waited for it to pause. It did, for a fraction of a moment, and she and two other amazons released arrows at it. Hers and another’s missed the little wretch, but the third hit and snatched the thing out of the air. The remaining gremlins screamed again.
“Where are they? Where are they?” one yelled.
“Stupid manticore!” another screamed. “Attack them, not us!”
“Flee!” one yelled. “Flee! Flee! Flee!” the others added.
Emily heard light wings beating fast and then zipping out across the jungle. The manticore roared with its horn-like voice again and chased after them, bounding across the jungle in massive leaps that cleared the distance of Emily’s house. It was astounding to watch it go.
The amazons stayed hidden until the thing was completely gone. When it was, Adelpha emerged first.
“Damn things,” she scowled.
Emily, Chara, and the others came out, but when Emily took a look around, she realized they were missing two.
“Where’s Leda and Hanna?” she asked.
“Here,” came Leda’s voice. “Mother was hit by a spike.”
She grunted as she dragged her mother out from the bushes. Hanna’s eyes were closed, and she was motionless. Emily’s heart clenched, and she gasped, thinking her dead, but none of the other amazons seemed worried. They just sighed and stepped over to her.
“Carry her,” Adelpha said. “We’ll take turns. We can’t stay here.”
“What happened?” Emily whispered to Chara.
“Manticore spikes knock a person unconscious for a few hours,” Chara shrugged. “She’ll be fine. She’s actually going to be better off than us now. The lucky woman gets to sleep while we carry her home.”
