by A. R. Cook
The other Hijn approached Katawa cautiously. Katawa looked half-dead, his indigo color paled, his body limp. He breathed heavily, and sweat trickled down his face. He looked up to see the Hijn advancing on him, ready with fingertips generating lightning, palms summoning water, rock-hard fists glowing red like lava, and horns for spearing. Now that Katawa’s front side was exposed, with no protective scales, a full blast from any attack would be deadly serious. And
attempting to distort the statue that was pinning him would not make it any lighter. He was stuck tight. “I…I surrender…” he panted.
“No, don’t believe him!” Desert Rain said. “This is what he does. He lulls you into a false sense—”
“Desert Rain, allow us to handle this. I believe this demon can see now he was overambitious to take us all on.” Merros turned his eyes to the demon. “Well, Wretched One, you are certainly a powerful demon, much more so than any I have ever seen. You also show much courage to attempt to face the Hijn council, however foolish that courage is. Tell us, if you are indeed Hijn as you claim, who was the Sage that you were heir to?”
Katawa’s eyes shined with menace, and he displayed an equally sinister smile. “He was the Alpha and Omega…the beginning and the end…and now I am. I am the beginning of a new world, and the end of all you chain yourselves so dearly to. I am here to break your chains, the ones that restrain you from achieving your true selves.”
“And what would that be?”
“The forms that I can mold for you.” The words were so chilling that Desert Rain literally shivered.
“He is too dangerous,” V’Tanna said. “He must be destroyed.”
“Dangerous, yes,” Merros agreed, “but if what he says is true, if he is Hijn, then by the oath we cannot kill him. This also poses an important question. What Sage would choose a demon, and such a malicious one, for his heir? We were given our gifts to maintain balance to nature and keep the ancient knowledge in Luuva Gros. You know of the tales of the beast who sought to undo the good the Sages did…this Wretched One could be in service to it.”
“You don’t mean…” Mage Skyhan whispered.
Desert Rain did not understand what Merros was referring to. “What beast?” she asked.
Merros’s answer was delivered gravely. “It is legend that there was a monster that opposed the great Sages, called the Lifescourge. This evil creature wished to keep the Noble Races in darkness and ignorance. It wished to crush us underfoot, believing mortals were too far beneath it to exist in the same land as it did. The Sages were more powerful, and drove the Lifescourge deep into the earth, never to reemerge. But if the Lifescourge has found a way to freedom, and has sought alliance with the Wretched, it could mean disaster for all of us. This Wretched One may be the first of many.”
“What should we do with him then?” Rukna asked.
“There is valuable information in this demon. I will pull the truth from him. He may also be the key to lure out this dark-souled monster. They will want him returned to them, I would believe. If there is a forming alliance between the Wretched and the Lifescourge, it must be brought to light and stopped immediately.”
Everyone’s attention was on Merros, so no one noticed as a golden rose with a snake-like stem slinked out from Katawa’s mane. Desert Rain felt a twinge in her forehead, and throughout her body there was a silent cry. She turned to look at Katawa, and saw as the incarnation of her soul snaking out from Katawa’s hair. The demon glanced over at her, smirking at her petrified stare.
Before anyone even knew what she was doing, Desert Rain wildly pounced at Katawa, gripping the golden flower. She jerked her hand away when the stem of her soul pierced her by jutting out its thorns. She faced Katawa’s wicked stare, seeing the truth in his eyes. He was master over her very soul.
He smiled kindly at her, so kindly she almost thought it wasn’t mocking. The smile turned rotten as he reached around and put his hand on her back, filling her with the warm, relaxing sensation that brought on drowsiness. Desert Rain fought to remain awake this time, and fought to push away from his grasp. She could feel the hand on her back changing. It became less monstrous, and more like a man’s hand. Her eyes dipped shut for a second, and when she managed to reopen them, Katawa had transformed into her male counterpart, the handsome form that had seduced her. He provided a blood-red tunic and matching trousers for himself as well.
And now, because he was so much thinner and smaller, he slipped out of his confinement with the slipperiness of an eel. “Thank you,” he sneered.
The other Hijn were caught off guard by Katawa’s sudden transformation, so much so that none of them had time to react as Katawa darted with incredible speed—the same
speed that Desert Rain possessed—at Clova, who was petrified by the demon’s eyes. He grinned at her, and then yanked her pouch of seeds off of her neck.
“Excuse me,” he said, and then he threw Clove aside as if she were a rag doll. Tightening his fist around the pouch, a strange mass of vines began to grow from his hand, although it was not the kind of plant life Clova would have produced. Instead of friendly, green vines, these were the black-and-blue color of beaten skin, and mouths emerged from the ends of the vines, jaws with spiny teeth that were dagger sharp. The ends of the creepers stretched to the walls and the floor, rooting into the stone as if it were soil. It took mere seconds for a forest of vines to spring from his palm, become a writhing entanglement of snapping teeth and twisted coils that encased the whole room. The sudden appearance of this nightmare jungle was beyond comprehension, even for the greatest magic users in Luuva Gros.
The Hijn council was dumbfounded. Clova’s lips trembled, horrified at what had become of her precious plants. Merros and V’Tanna backed away slowly, although they were surrounded on all sides by the snapping plant mouths. V’Tanna quickly spoke a Dragontongue word and sent a thread of lightning into the tangle of plants. The few plants she burned away, however, were replaced by an instant growth of even more twisted plants. Rukna was drained from his magic use, but he reacted with a surge of energy. He raced towards the scar in the wall where the door had been, tore off the vines covering it and began plowing his horns into it with all the strength he
had left. His throbbing head, however, made it difficult, and he had to stop before knocking himself out. Guargos ran to join Rukna, pounding his iron-hard fist into the scar. He began to break through the wall when purple flytrap jaws snapped around his arms and yanked him off the floor. The bite would have been painful if Guargos’s arms were not encased in molten ore, but any plants he fought off respawned as more flytrap heads. He let the distorted plant take him hostage without a word.
The others were not so silent as the entanglement of vines snatched at each of them, coiling around their torsos and locking their arms to their sides. Clova tried in vain to command the plants with her Dragontongue, but her words were quickly muffled as a vine wrapped around her mouth. The same happened to Merros and V’Tanna, who fought for breath as the plants tightened around their ribcages. Rukna bellowed as flytrap jaws dug their teeth into both his arms and his legs. Fierno was ensnared before Mage Skyhan had finished healing him, and the wounded Hijn dangled lifelessly as he was hoisted away by the vines. The plants cocooned around Mage Skyhan and pulled her away, suspending her high above the floor. Desert Rain was held by a single vine
around her waist, but it was enough to keep her from running. Now would have been a good time for her to faint, for the sight of the Hijn Council hanging from a morbid jungle like insects in a spider’s web was too much for her to bear.
Katawa, releasing his mass of creepers, took a moment to observe his marvelous work. He returned the golden rose to its place around his neck. “Thank you for the seeds,” he said to Clova. “Plants are less complex than animals. It takes very little magic for me to distort them.” He took a moment to stretch his sore muscles. “You know, if you all had been trying to kill me, I’m sure you could have done it fairly easily. But beca
use of your compassion—or maybe simple curiosity—you wanted to capture me so you could inspect me under glass. That was your mistake. But I’ll train you all so that neither curiosity of compassion will betray you again.”
“Don’t do this!” Desert Rain cried.
Katawa silently commanded the vine to bring Desert Rain to him. “Dez, you really are a mess, aren’t you?” He made the vine release her, and she fell to the floor with a light thud. “You’ll have to forgive me for borrowing another imprint from you, but I lost the last one when I turned back into my natural form. That’s the rather irritating part about that trick—it never lasts for long.”
“Please don’t kill them!” she pleaded.
Katawa looked offended. “I hoped you know me better than that. Murder is such a dull thing…it ends all the fun I want to have.”
“What do you going to do to them?”
“I’m going to give them the chance to do what all of Luuva Gros has wanted them to do,” the demon replied. “It’s what your handsome Swordmaster always wanted, so I’m sure
you’ll be very pleased.”
Desert Rain’s ears shivered. “What are you talking about?”
Katawa placed his hands on her trembling ears. “If I’m going to destroy the Court of Darkscale, I’m going to need the best magic users that I can command.”
“You’re going to destroy…your own clan…”
“Naturally I would like to do away with them by myself, but the Darkscale are powerful. They are magic users who aim to kill. Once I teach these Hijn to use their magic with the same brutality, I think they’ll do quite nicely.”
Desert Rain narrowed her eyes at him. “This is all because you want revenge on your brother for what he did to you. Go fight your own battles. No matter what you do, the Hijn will never listen to you!”
Katawa knitted his eyebrows at her. “Why do you show concern for them? You don’t care about them. You said so yourself, you’ve had nothing to do with these people for years. What becomes of them is little consequence to you.”
“That’s not true!”
“I think it is. Let’s play a little game to find out.”
“Don’t—”
“Yes, let’s. I’ll make a deal with you. I will release one Hijn to you, any one you’d like. You seem fond of the pretty one there…” He gestured towards Mage Skyhan. “But I’d suggest the big gray one. He’d be helpful in getting you out of here, if you know what I mean.” He pointed to the crack in the wall where Guargos had come close to breaking through.
Heat pulsed in Desert Rain’s head. She looked at the helpless Hijn, all their eyes fixed on her, each one quietly begging for help. All except Guargos, though—he remained stoic, looking to her not for help, but for her to not be afraid. Mage Skyhan, too, did not look on in panic. Her eyes were soft, a mother’s gaze telling her to trust her feelings. Desert Rain had a chance to save one of them; that was the important thing.
“Or,” Katawa cut in as Desert Rain frantically contemplated her choices, “you can have this.” He unwound the golden flower from his neck and held it out to her. The rose bloomed in the presence of Desert Rain. “You can have your soul back, return home, and believe that none of this ever happened. You can return to living in your burrows, and remain oblivious to the outside world, as you like it.”
Desert Rain was entranced by the gold flower as it blossomed into the fruits and petals of her wildest imagination. It grew towards her, and its mere beauty faded all the anxiety around her. She reached out for it, wanting it more than anything, wanting her very being back…
She stopped. She withdrew her hand. “Take me,” she whispered.
Katawa frowned.
Desert Rain dropped her gaze to the floor. “Let them go, and take me. You said something about you and I being more powerful than they are. Then I’m the one you want!”
“But little Dez,” he said, lifting her face to his with a clawed finger. “I already own you.”
Desert Rain’s eyes narrowed sharply, emanating hatred at him.
“Besides…” He turned her face side to side with his hand, looking her over. “I don’t think you’re quite ready yet.”
Desert Rain couldn’t hide the confusion on her face. Ready for what?
“You’re really making this more difficult than it has to be. Now choose,” he ordered. He curled his fingers around her soul, tightening his grip until he was close to grinding the petals into pieces.
Desert Rain could feel the grip within her, trying to crumble her from the inside out. But, like the golden flower, she did not fall apart. “Clova,” she abruptly said. “Release Clova.”
Katawa sighed, disappointment on his face. “Still thinking with your heart, I see. How disgustingly noble. But it’s no loss to me. I really don’t have much need for gardeners.” He jerked
the vine holding Clova, which dropped her from the height she was suspended at, and she hit the floor heavily. Desert Rain went to help her friend, but Clova stood defiantly before Katawa, fury wrinkling her face.
“The others will never help you! NEVER!” she roared. “They’d rather die than help a disgraceful devil like you!”
Katawa smiled. “I believe I heard you call that one your brother?” he asked, looking at Rukna. “I’ll show you why the Hijn will help me, and why they’ll do it willingly.”
He brought Rukna down, and the Mountain Hijn flayed his limbs wildly in his confinement. Katawa placed his hands on Rukna’s horns.
“LEAVE HIM ALONE!!” Clova started at him, but Desert Rain held her back. Desert Rain wanted to tell her that there was nothing Clova could do to help Rukna. What she said instead was, “I can’t lose you too.” Clova looked back at her with tear-filled eyes.
Rukna howled as his horns gnarled into abstract antlers in Katawa’s hands. The distortion crept down his forehead, to his temples, to his ears—and then into his ears. Rukna’s eyes rolled into his head, and his deep howls became the screeches of a mindless animal. Katawa released him, and then untangled him from the vines. Rukna slumped over, his hands clawing at his head. Then he became very still. His breaths were deep and laborious. He moaned heavily.
Katawa leaned in close to Rukna, putting a comforting arm around his shoulders. He whispered into his ear. Desert Rain’s ears picked up the whispers, but it was a voice she had never heard before. There was a strange oozing vibration in the voice, something so well hidden that she couldn’t make out what it was. It made her brain feel fuzzy and caused her skin to crawl. Amidst the haziness in her head, she heard him hiss: It’s all right, my friend. I know you are in pain. But I promise I will make it all better.
Rukna slowly lifted his head. Some kind of dark liquid was leaking from Rukna’s ears and his nose.
All you have to do is kill the green one.
Rukna turned his blank eyes to Clova. Clova looked at her brother with concern. She had not heard what Katawa had said. Rukna snarled, the dark liquid dripping from his lips, and then charged full speed at his sister.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Escape!
Clova was paralyzed in disbelief. This couldn’t be happening. Rukna would never hurt her. It wasn’t possible, even though she was seeing the burly Hijn barreling at her with jagged horns directed at her heart.
Desert Rain grabbed her, yanking her out of harm’s way as the Mountain Hijn charged past them.
“Rukna, stop! What did he do to you??” Clova shouted.
“His mind’s been warped,” Desert Rain said. “Katawa’s manipulating him!”
Rukna came back around, mindlessly driven to kill that green woman as the remedy for his pain. He was not even aware of the gold-skinned girl, who was pulling the green woman to safety every time he came close to spearing her.
Desert Rain held tight to Clova’s arm, running so fast that the Forest Hijn almost flew off the ground. Desert Rain looked at the depression in the wall made by Rukna’s head-butts and Guargos’s punches. She thought she could see
a small hole, a coin-sized passage to the other side. She ran towards the crack, stood before the hole, and paused there.
“What are you doing??” Clova asked as Rukna came at them.
Desert Rain didn’t answer. She held Clova steady, praying that the buildup of speed Rukna was making would provide efficient force. At the last possible moment, she shoved Clova aside and darted back as Rukna smashed his horns into the wall. He hit the weakened spot, and broke clear through. Rock crumbled around him as he fell face first, flopping over a pile of stone. This blow to the head, on top of the other blows he had already received, knocked him out. The hole he created was about half the size of the original door.
“Come on!” Desert Rain barked, taking Clova by the arm and directing her through the hole. Clova crawled over Rukna’s back, and Desert Rain followed her, scrambling as she felt Rukna stir beneath her. She heard Katawa shout after her. “Farewell, Desert Rain. You’ve done well in getting me what I’ve wanted.”
Desert Rain and Clova raced down the hall, down the stairs, out the door into the sunlight beating down on the Ascendance of Glor’Ath. Clova looked back. “Rukna…”
“Clova, we can’t—”
“I can’t leave him in there!” She started to go back, but Desert Rain desperately held on to her.
“You can’t imagine how sorry I am for you,” Desert Rain said sincerely, “but there’s nothing we can do for him right now. We need to get others to help us.”
Clova paused. She was torn, but she eventually nodded. She pulled a wooden whistle from a pouch pinned to the waistline of her dress. She blew into it, a light clear note emitting from it. “Gust will be here any second,” she said.
