It had been more than fourteen days since the Lavrika had called me to the pools. Fourteen times the sun had chased the broken line of moons from one side of the sky to the other. Fourteen days of coming back to the Cliffs of Uruzai searching for clues. Searching for something. Anything. Anything that might give me more information about the strange vision of my even stranger mate.
It was getting harder and harder to think of excuses to come here alone. Even Galok, who trusted me implicitly, was growing concerned. Every time I told him I was leaving to patrol our borders, or to hunt, he’d look at me strangely. “Let the hunters and guards do that, Buroudei. The Gahn should not concern himself with such mundane tasks,” he’d said, looking at me as if I’d gone half-mad. And maybe I had gone mad. I’d never before been so consumed with such a singular need. The need for answers. The need to see that small, pale face again.
I adjusted my positioning atop my mount, my irkdu, its massive long body moving easily over the sand, as we approached the Cliffs of Uruzai yet again. As we got close to the cliff’s opening, the Lavrikala stationed there eyed me warily, but said nothing. The Lavrikala had grown used to my daily visits. I never dismounted, never tried to enter the caves, and so the sacred guards largely let me be as I stalked back and forth on my animal. It was pointless to try to enter the caves again now. Warriors were only permitted inside at the invitation of the Lavrika. Otherwise, only our female healers were allowed to enter at will, to replenish their supplies of Lavrika’s blood.
Perhaps the Lavrika has lied to me. Shown me some falsehood I should ignore.
But no, such thoughts were blasphemy. Generations ago, our ancestors had ignored the visions of the Lavrika. And it had almost destroyed us, decimating our numbers. We were nowhere near recovered from those mistakes.
I sighed, staring first at the sand, then the sky.
Nothing. Nothing new. Everything just the same as before.
Wait.
I squinted, my gaze narrowing in on a strange dark shape in the distance. It was descending from the sky, and as it got closer to the ground, I heard a deep, unfamiliar whirring sound.
My mount bucked and wriggled, its animal senses picking up on the thing in the sky. Wordlessly, I pulled my axe from its loop on my belt, and gripped my spear, leaning forward. The Lavrikala widened her stance, readying her spear, her eyes cast upward, looking worried but determined.
“I will go,” I called to her. Whatever this was, whatever threat, I would put myself between it and the Lavrikala and the caves.
The creature flew, as if it were a krixel, but it had no wings to speak of. And at this distance, the fact it looked as large as it did, meant it was bigger than any krixel, bigger than any creature I had ever seen. It had a round, flat body that reminded me of the discs our cubs threw back and forth for sport. When it landed, the whole ground shook, and my irkdu groaned and tossed its head. I tightened my thighs against its body, keeping it under control, then clicked my tongues, axe and spear at the ready.
My irkdu shot forward, its many legs working swiftly over the surface of the sand. There was no time to return to the tents and to gather my men about me; we were almost at the fallen flying thing. But when I heard the vicious screams of the zeelk, and saw them burrowing up out of the sand and scuttling towards the fallen creature, I stopped short, whistling for my irkdu to heel, wishing that I had my men around me after all. The zeelk were monstrous, brutal things that could tear even the strongest Sea Sand warrior to pieces. With my irkdu at my side, I could handle a few of the things on my own. But there were more than ten scrabbling towards the strange fallen creature. I had no reason to throw myself into that fray, and I held back, watching with keenly guarded eyes, my hands still tight on my weapons.
There was a see-through shelf of bone at the front of the fallen thing, and the zeelk crashed through it, moving into the body of the huge best. The creature did not seem to be alive after its landing, and I saw no blood running from its wounds. The zeelk were all inside the thing now, and I could hear their terrible shrieks alongside terrific crashes. And then more screams – lighter and softer, working deep into my bones. My chest clenched, my grip tightening so hard against my weapons that my knuckles cracked. There were other things inside the great beast. Creatures that were still alive.
Suddenly, the other side of the fallen beast split along an invisible seam, and its shining skin pulled back and up. My irkdu snuffled and growled, but I held it steady, eyes narrowing. I expected zeelk to spill out of that new opening, as if the fallen creature was expelling them somehow. But what I saw instead brought everything around me to a powerful, grinding halt.
A two-legged creature in strange clothing sprinted from the newly opened belly. The hood of her clothing fell back revealing a pale face, and a guttural snarl ripped from my throat. Could it be...?
But no, this creature had hair the colour of flames. My mate had looked different. But there was no denying this fire-haired creature was of the same people as my mate. She stumbled in the sand, pausing and looking back, and more creatures like her followed, all appearing to be female, their hides ranging from the palest pink to deep brown, the hair on their heads coming in all different shades and shapes and textures. One of them seemed to have no hair on her head at all. I scanned the group, but none of them seemed to be the one I’d seen in the Lavrika Pools. Fear, something I had not felt since I was a cub, clawed at my guts. Fear at the thought that my mate could be trapped somewhere in the beast, or murdered by foul zeelk. I gave a cry, and my irkdu charged forward.
Another group of women was running from the fallen beast, now. And at the front of their running line, I saw her. And it was like everything else ceased to exist. There was no sea of sand, no zeelk, no sky or sun or cliffs. There was only her, shining like a single star in darkness. Shining like a beacon, a sign, a glorious explosion of destiny. My mate. Every part of my body pounded with this new reality, sacred strength surging through me, culminating in a vicious scream that tore from my chest as my irkdu plunged forward.
My mate was holding onto another female, and that other female stumbled and fell. My mate whipped around, her long light-coloured hair flying around her head in a strange and beautiful cloud, and she called something I could not understand, reaching back for her peer. But then the zeelk were following, screaming and skittering out of the slashed belly the women had just come from. One zeelk was heading right for the two of them, and a fearsome rage unlike anything I’d ever known burst inside me, flooding every limb with dark heat. I hefted my spear, its point made from the barb of a zeelk I’d killed in my youth, the only thing that could damage their black armour. Our ablik weapons were strong and sharp, but they could only inflict damage when aimed perfectly at the zeelk’s exposed joints.
I cocked my arm and my spear shot forward, crashing into the zeelk with deadly accuracy. The miserable creature collapsed, its legs crunching in on its body in the death grip of my weapon. I yanked an ablik knife from the dakrival hide straps criss-crossing over my back, and hurled it at another nearby zeelk. But it clanged off the armour. I gritted my fangs, pulling another knife and throwing it, trying to keep my aim steady as my irkdu charged forward.
This knife found its target, slipping between the zeelk’s body armour and the spot where its leg emerged. It screamed and collapsed, trying to move through the sand with its wounded leg. It wasn’t dead, but close enough for now.