Vitaliya nodded. Her trainer was right, and more importantly, he knew about Aodh. Gonzo knew her secret. He would help her look for him, she was sure of it. Not for the first time, she was grateful that Gonzo had been the trainer assigned to her. It eased some of the burden she felt.
“Okay, fine, let’s wait,” said Bezzi-ibbi, shrugging. With that, the Jaguar Clan heir levered himself up from where he’d been sitting on the ground and began to walk away. He was obviously done with the conversation.
Vitaliya envied the boy. She wished she could care so little too. It must be nice to have no responsibilities. Meanwhile, she felt the weight of an entire country crushing down on her. The responsibility, the duty she had possibly failed at—she couldn’t think about it. She couldn’t dwell on it or she’d have trouble breathing. She had to focus on solutions to her problems.
She wished Jason would hurry and wake up.
Respect for the Fallen
Jason found himself sitting on his butt in the middle of a baseball field. With a start, he realized it was the baseball diamond where he used to play little league when he was a kid. From behind him, he heard a very distinctive voice say, “I thought a change of scenery was in order, again.”
Jason sighed and turned to regard the purple cartoon cat.
His orb’s cartoon avatar was lounging in a chair, sipping a drink of some kind. The drink and its glass also looked animated. The scene was a bit bizarre.
Jason sighed and rolled his eyes. He asked, “Can I have a chair?”
“Oh, of course!” said the purple cat. He waved a hand, and a cartoon chair rose out of the field near Jason’s feet. Jason eyed it warily before he shrugged and sat down.
“You know, this isn’t really real. You won’t really feel any different if you’re sitting or standing.” The cat took a sip of his drink. The cartoon umbrella coming out the top was bright yellow with little pink hearts.
“Yes, the thought has occurred to me,” Jason replied. He was weary already. Talking to his orb’s avatar always gave him a great deal of useful information, but the more he did so, the stranger he found the entire experience. “So why are we talking today?”
“Ah, straight to the point! I like that!” The purple cat’s crooked whiskers quivered as he smiled. He threw his drink behind him and it vanished before it hit the ground. “You were just dying! It was very interesting. I wasn’t even aware that you could do what you did before you started to kick the bucket. I’m glad you’re still alive, though. I really don’t want to die with you.”
“Wait...what?”
“Don’t you remember? You’re still only a second rank orb-Bonded, but you drastically increased your power to fight against a High Priestess! Granted, she was one of the weakest High Priestesses, but that was still quite a feat!”
Jason put a hand to his temple, closing his eyes. Everything was fuzzy for a moment, but then it all came back to in one confused lump of emotion and memory. If he hadn’t been talking to some sort of alien computer in his unconscious mind, all of the blood would have run from his face. “How did that happen?”
The cartoon cat looked embarrassed for a moment. “Gee, I don’t super know, Jason. See, I don’t have any knowledge about what you did, but routines were built into me to let it happen. It still almost killed you. If I had to guess, and my guesses are good, you probably shouldn’t have survived your limitbreak at your rank. It you were higher rank, it probably would have put less of a strain on your body and soul.” The cat grinned, showing off big, blocky white teeth.
“Limitbreak?” asked Jason.
“That’s what you called it, remember?”
Jason slowly nodded. “So how did I survive, then?”
“Kumbaya, you almost didn’t!” the cat exclaimed. “I’ve been monitoring your surroundings and High Priestess Keeja made a very smart decision! She told your wife to give you a spirit stone. That stabilized you. But it seems you were dying because you used up all your extra spirit stones and started consuming your own Dhu...or something. I’m still not super sure.”
“What?”
“You were dying because you didn’t have enough Dhu feeding you power anymore! It’s all quite fascinating. I still don’t know what happened, so it would be great if you could ask Dolos or Keeja about it!”
Jason scratched his head, the action strangely calming despite his body being a figment of his subconscious. “So, you’re telling me that I managed to use up the spirit stones I swallowed earlier, the ones I hadn’t actually used yet because you didn’t want me to level up right away, and I just needed another one to stabilize back to normal levels?”
“That’s correct!” The purple cat seemed excited that Jason understood.
“So to get to third rank, I need to find more spirit stones again?”
“Correct again!” The cat was out of his seat and dancing now. The display was ridiculous. Jason closed his eyes shut tightly before opening them again. He needed to ask a few more questions, and then he needed to think.
* * *
Bezzi-ibbi had just gotten done burying Rark-han’s body. Once he’d left the little meeting earlier, he’d immediately gotten to work with the grim task he could never entrust to anyone else. Once he was done, on the way back, he saw most of the group milling around the Battlewagon. Uluula had suddenly shrieked and began crying happily. Jason had woken up.
The Jaguar Clan heir was glad that his Clan brother was awake, but the events of the last few hours had left him feeling numb. Mareen was still not talking to anyone, either.
He knew if he’d asked, others in the group would have offered to help him bury Rark-han, but Bezzi-ibbi had needed to do it for himself. Henna-ibbi always said, “The wise hunter owns her own mistakes, she is not owned by them.” Bezzi-ibbi’s rekke was wise, truly the best female to lead the Clan in Mirana.
When he was laying Rark-han to rest, he’d taken off the man’s bronze arm that Henry had crafted for him, and the reality of the situation had hit him. Rark-han was dead. Yanno-ibbi was alive, but crippled. Aodh was missing. And Henry, the man who had made the bronze replacement arm for Rark-han, was missing too.
He’d only cried once when he’d looked at the dead Mo’hali man in the face and seen he still wore a slight, satisfied smile. Bezzi-ibbi was glad nobody had been nearby to see his tears.
Rark-han had been a big man. It had taken Bezzi-ibbi a long time to dig a suitable grave. He’d crossed the wolf man’s arms across his chest and buried him Jaguar Clan style. As he did, he’d prayed to the Maker of the Day, absolving Rark-han of any more responsibility. The man had paid his debt in full with his life.
While laying the body to rest, Bezzi-ibbi had found a letter in the big, lupine man’s pocket. It had been addressed to him. With dull eyes and a heavy heart, he’d pocketed the letter and vowed to read it later. He was exhausted, and keeping his shadow proud in the Day was becoming increasingly difficult. He felt shame for feeling satisfaction earlier about his beginning as a Jaguar Troubadour.
His dream was already being built on bodies.
After Jason had woken up in Uluula’s lap, he’d stumbled around, mumbling about purple cats for a time. The entire group was exhausted, but they had all managed to pile into the Battlewagon. The one damaged magicycle was scrapped, sliced apart by Jason, the parts stored for transport. The two undamaged magicycles belonged to the Berber spies. Bezzi-ibbi would ride in the Battlewagon for the remainder of the trip.
Mareen had wordlessly climbed into Henry’s turret before they’d left, her eyes puffy, her expression haunted. Nobody had stopped her.
Even Keeja was quiet, her expression withdrawn and introspective.
Bezzi-ibbi wasn’t sure how long it took to get to Harmly. The trip was a blur. He sat the whole time by his unconscious uncle, resting a hand on his shoulder. He couldn’t stop thinking about Henry, Aodh, and Rark-han.
He wasn’t completely unobservant while traveling. He noticed that the Delvers had acquired a decent a
mount of loot, including a monster-wood staff, a monster-wood rapier, a powerful enchanted bow, a blessed steel sword, and a few other things. The device that had hit Aodh and Henry with a beam of light was an enigma. Nobody could figure out what it was, not even Keeja. Either that or she wasn’t telling.
Normally, most of the loot would have been doled out, or everyone would have at least been more excited about obtaining it. However, the pall over the company just got worse over time. There had been so much blood, death, and senseless violence. Fighting monsters was something Bezzi-ibbi had been prepared for. He’d been involved in the battle with the bandits months ago, and in hindsight, he felt naive for not considering that they could be attacked.
The Jaguar Clan heir had always known it was a possibility, but he hadn’t really believed it in his hunter’s heart. In the midst of all the fighting, while his heart pumped and he fought for his life, he’d felt a hunter’s glee. However, now that the cost of survival was counted, he felt empty, numb.
Once the group got to Harmly, Bezzi-ibbi just sat and watched the world move around him. He’d never before experienced anything quite like what he was going through. He just felt heavy, heavy and powerless. He’d witnessed amazing events, he’d been involved in a glorious battle, a fight to his life, but all he could keep thinking about was Rark-han.
Bezzi-ibbi had been responsible for the man. He’d ordered Rark-han to atone for his crimes by serving. The problem was, the man had served, and done so well, even without a tongue most of the time. Bezzi-ibbi was almost starting to consider him Clan-trusted.
And now he was dead.
Bezzi-ibbi had killed before. He’d killed his first man a couple years before, a man condemned by the Clan council. As the heir, he had been required to end the man in order to prove he was coming of age.
He hadn’t enjoyed it, but it’d been necessary. Bezzi-ibbi was no stranger to grim realities, but he was not accustomed to feeling like he’d failed. He’d never felt his heart hurt before this way, like he had lost something.
The next day passed almost like Bezzi-ibbi was watching someone else live his life. Uluula had gotten them all rooms in a decent inn. Bezzi-ibbi was distantly aware of Jason talking to the town guard and possibly the military. He was probably giving them an account of everything that had happened. There would definitely be an investigation.
Bezzi-ibbi couldn’t bring himself to care.
If Rark-han were still around, the big wolf man would have looked at Bezzi-ibbi and rolled his eyes while flicking his ears sideways, communicating his impatience without words. Bezzi-ibbi smiled, tears running down his face as he traced his metal Hero arm with his flesh-and-blood hand. His power was effectively useless.
Without warning, Bezzi-ibbi felt a hand on his shoulder. He blearily glanced over and noticed Yanno-ibbi sitting next to him. His uncle’s new crutch was leaning against the bed they were sitting on.
Bezzi-ibbi felt a sudden, hot flash of guilt. His uncle was still alive, and had been maimed. Yanno-ibbi had lost a hand and a leg, his mobility hampered for the rest of his life. Bezzi-ibbi had barely checked on him.
He tried to hold the tears in, but his renewed guilt made it impossible. He looked at the ground in shame, biting his lower lip with sharp teeth.
Yanno-ibbi began to speak. “You know, not many spoke in support for you to leave the Clan house in Mirana. However, I was one of them. I have known your father since he was born. Not many know that I am actually the eldest. However, it is the duty of the Jaguar Clan to face the truth and not show our backs, to never run from facts like cowardly prey.
“The reality is, your father is a better leader than I am. I am more friendly, I am smarter, I am better at most things, but your father learned one thing that I never could.”
Yanno-ibbi paused. Bezzi-ibbi continued to stare at the ground and listen. Yanno-ibbi continued, “Your father learned how to kill his own people. We have both fought in skirmishes, you see. A good commander tries to keep their people alive. But the mark of a great commander is one who spends the lives of soldiers dearly, but is willing to spend them all the same.
“Henna-ibbi is a strong woman, but she still defers to your father on the hardest decisions in private. Most don’t know that, nor should they, or it would weaken her position. But your father actually has a kinder heart than me. He is just willing to take the burden, to cry about it and claw himself later, but focus on the larger mission.
“This is not something I can do.”
Yanno-ibbi gestured at himself. “My life has just been completely changed. I knew when I woke to a new dawn, greeted the light of the Day and saw my changed form, I had a choice. I could move on, or I could live in the past. Regret is an enemy that stalks in memories and dreams, Bezzi-ibbi. Great hunters never become prey, even to themselves.
“You left at a young age, risked your life to become a Hero so you can become a great Clan chief. I believe in your quest, Bezzi-ibbi. Unfortunately, now you know how difficult that journey will truly be, and why so many who love you were against you going. One of the things we love most about you is your pure heart. However, by the time you come back to the Clan, you will bear many scars, and some of them will be inside of you, on your spirit.”
After that, Yanno-ibbi stood and hobbled out of the room with the help of his crutch.
Bezzi-ibbi loved and respected his uncle. He was not as wise as his father, or as smart as Henna-ibbi, or as observant as Bezzi-ibbi’s mother, or as powerful as Kinwe-na-ibbi, but he usually growled truth. Yanno-ibbi was worthy of great respect.
It took some time, some reflection, but eventually Bezzi-ibbi stood, slapped his face, and took a deep breath.
He was not going to be healed inside for some time, but he would meet his enemies head on, even, no, especially if his enemy was himself.
He walked from the room, noticing Uluula with her arm around a sobbing Mareen in a room down the hall. Bezzi-ibbi’s ears drooped. Mareen would have to face herself too. There was nothing he could do for her.
The Jaguar Clan boy glanced down at his disgusting, soiled clothes and winced. The first thing he was going to do now that he was walking again was obtain a new set of clothes and clean himself up. By the Day, if he truly wanted to be a Jaguar Troubadour, he needed to look like one!
* * *
The next day, the entire group had breakfast in a private dining room that the luxurious inn had accommodated them with. Knowing Uluula, she’d probably gotten it at half price.
Not long after he’d started eating, Bezzi-ibbi was shocked when Yanno-ibbi stood and made a surprise announcement. His uncle rapped on the table with tin spork and said, “Jason-ibbi, Bezzi-ibbi, all, I must leave this morning. You will be leaving from Harmly to travel north to the Stem River soon, but I will not be coming with you. I feel I have no place among your company anymore. I will just be a liability. I have already spoken to a few members of this group, and Thirsty will be coming with me.”
“Wait, what?” asked Jason, scratching his head. “You’re leaving, and Thirsty too? Thirsty, from what I hear, you were a huge help during the battle, and most if not all of us owe you our lives. I thought you’d be staying with us.”
Thirsty shook his head. “Jason, sweetie, I love you, I love all of you. You all saved my life. But, how do I put this?” The tall, black man held up a hand dramatically before saying, “Uh, not only no, but hell no. Hell to the fuck no. Fuck all of this ratchet, medieval-ass fighting bullshit.”
Thirsty pulled his wig out of his backpack and held it up. “Drag used to be my escape. It used to be a hobby, a way to make a little extra money and deal with stress. Do you know what I see now when I look at my wig and my heels?” He paused a moment and said, “Armor. I see armor. And during my dreams now, I see fucking zombie hands grabbing for me. I see my friends dying. I didn’t sign on for this shit.”
Thirsty quietly put the wig back in his backpack. “Actually, I didn’t sign up for any of this. I feel like I’m lost,
Jason. I just...need to find where I belong. I really do care about all of you, but...Aodh is gone.” Thirsty’s eyes began to tear up. He softly continued, “I just don’t think I can do what I need to do in this group, I don’t think I can be who you want me to be.”
The entire room was quiet for a while after that.
Finally, Jason responded, “I respect your decision. It’s not like I can keep you from going, but we’ve been through a lot together. Dashawn Givens, Thirsty Zha Zha, you will always be a member of Delvers LLC.” Jason turned to Yanno-ibbi and asked, “And what will you do?”
Yanno-ibbi flicked his ears forward, displaying genuine affection for Jason. “I have contingency plans with the Clan. I will be heading to the capital of Tolstey to the west and working with a branch of the Clan to increase our strength. I believe Thirsty wants to work with me to see if I can help him open a clothing shop.”
“Damn right,” sniffed Thirsty. “I didn’t ask for none of this orb-Bonded bullshit, but now that I can make real magic stuff, I just need someone to turn me loose. Maybe I can find my calling after all. I always knew I’d be a fierce-ass fashion designer.”
Jason considered a moment before nodding. “Okay, but you are still our extended family. I am not going to leave you emptyhanded. We picked up a few things that should help with seed money. I want to give you the blessed steel flamberge—”
“The what?” asked Uluula.
“The big, blessed steel sword,” replied Jason with just a hint of exasperation.
“I thought that would be going to Mareen.” UIuula patted her Terran friend sitting next to her. The dusky-skinned woman showed no reaction, just stared at the table.
Jason shook his head, “No, it’s not well suited to someone with her body style. Her hammer is still a much better weapon for her, especially with her enhanced strength, plus Henr—” Jason paused mid-word, and there was an awkward silence around the table for a moment.
Delvers LLC: Obligations Incurred Page 27
