Gambit of the Gods Page 39

  Our allies are all in their places and ready, Mah’ue reports, before leaving to give final instructions to his followers.

  “Go ahead, touch it,” Stone Drum urges. I prod it gingerly. He chuckles.

  “Look closely,” he says, and gently pulls it apart. I squint at it obediently, but I don’t see anything unusual.

  “All I see is moss,” I say, shrugging.

  “It’s actually not moss at all.” He teases out a whitish cord wound up in the wispy green filaments. “It’s a joining of two creatures, fungus and algae. Together, they’re stronger than they would be apart. One shields the other from sunlight, and they combine to produce a bitter taste, protecting both from becoming a meal.”

  I smile to hear of another symbiotic relationship, reaching out to touch it more reverently. He puts the old man’s beard into his bag and begins paddling again. A toad croaks from somewhere on my side of the river bank, and another answers.

  “What do we use it for?”

  Stone Drum looks pleased at my sudden interest.

  “It’s the best cure I know for serious infection, especially in the lungs. It eases coughing and helps bring up mucus. Taken in a tea, it strengthens the body and relaxes muscles. It also helps with indigestion, soothes the throat, kills rag-worm and toe rot, and cleanses infection from the womanly region.” He blushes; I pretend not to notice. “It’s also good as a dressing for wounds, staving off infection while absorbing the blood safely.”

  “My heart-father has mentioned it before.” I twist my hands in my lap in an attempt to look sad and anxious. It isn’t difficult, since a part of me that I’ve walled away feels exactly that way. “I wonder if I’ll ever see him again.” Swiping at the corner of my eye furthest from him as if brushing away a tear, I keep my eyes downcast. More toads and frogs are calling to one another now, the sound of the crickets becoming a steady humming all around us.

  Stone Drum pulls the dripping paddle inside the canoe again, laying at our feet. Taking my hand, he lifts my chin so I can see his serious expression. His face is too close to mine, but I fight my instinct to pull away. Has he forgotten that Whisker is sitting behind us, just a few lengths away? The songs of the frogs, toads and crickets will muffle our voices somewhat, but voices carry over water.

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” he muses, lowering his voice to just above a whisper. “I make a tea from a combination of valerian root and lemon balm leaves: both are known to have sedative properties. I’ll tell the others it will be more effective against the headaches we’ve all been having. Tell Artan not to drink it, and together we can carry Shy Mouse away with us once the others are sedated.” His eyes search mine for approval.

  I stare back, trying to hide my surprise. I never really believed my flirting would work.

  “You would do that for me? Betray Whisker, and your Lady?”

  He smiles in the fast-fading light, his face close to mine, our eyes locked. For a moment, I fear he will kiss me. But the reason for my fear surprises me—I don’t want Artan to see it and be hurt.

  “I would do that, and much more, for you. In fact—”

  “Shut up and start paddling again, cousin,” Whisker barks. “I’d like to get where we’re going before full darkness falls.”

  I slide away from Stone Drum, not wanting my sister to pay for my lack of caution. Stone Drum retrieves his paddle and bends to his task obediently, though I sense his resentment. They will light torches when it’s time to guide the canoes in to shore. But until then, it’s too dangerous because a stray spark could light the resin used to seal the canoes on fire.

  After several moments, I hold a hand up in front of my face. I can vaguely distinguish its outline. The rocking of the canoe would be soothing if my heart wasn’t beating so fast. It’s almost time.

  To distract myself, I consider why I was worried about hurting Artan’s feelings when Stone Drum was flirting with me. It’s not like I have feelings for Artan, except as my brother, after all.

  Yet ever since he confessed his feelings for me that night after my Quest—or maybe it was earlier, when he withstood Whisker’s attack with nothing but a staff, to protect me—I’ve begun to see him in a new light. I’d never seen him as a man before then, even though he’s two summers older than I. He was just my bookish, plant-loving heart-brother.

  But now, he’s shown himself to be strong and brave in the face of trouble, a man of honor, humor and intelligence, an ally I can always count on to have my back. Meanwhile, the man I secretly thought might be my mate one day, Spark, has betrayed me, willing to hand me over to those who would hurt me and my family…

  Lightning flashes across the sky, followed by the deep rumble of thunder. A gentle rain begins to fall, faintly pebbling the surface of the river. I hear a muffled curse behind me, and all at once, the twilight shatters into shards of chaos.

  Shy Mouse screams, a high, piercing shriek of terror, cut off in the middle because our canoe tips violently and I go underwater. I panic, even though I knew this was part of the plan. But something huge and furry pushes me to the surface. I grab handfuls of wiry hair desperately, gasping and shivering.

  Good, yes, hold on to me, little human cub, he says, sending a picture of himself and the image of his name: Dusk Wanderer. He’s a bear. This, too, is expected, since bears are the only animals large enough to tip over canoes and tow humans to shore. Still, I feel a frisson of alarm run up my spine. Having been raised with a healthy respect for bears and what they can do to humans, I can’t help but picture what this one could do to me and my friends.

  No, Dusk Wanderer says, glimpsing the picture in my mind. You are the human cub who speaks with us. We will not hurt you or those you love.

  Relief and embarrassment bubble up within me. Dusk Wanderer swims toward shore. I feel the jolt when his paws finally find purchase. He pulls me free of the water and I tumble onto the ground, still shivering uncontrollably from the cold and the rain. Snuffling close to my face to satisfy himself that I’m uninjured, he hunkers down beside me.

  Use my warmth, he says, sending me an image of myself huddling against him. I do, trying not to react to his strong, animal scent. The sharp, musky-urine smell of bear is sometimes the only warning we get when out hunting or picking berries before a bear comes upon us. Fortunately, they rarely attack unless it’s a mother bear with cubs. So it takes everything in me not to run, but I know I need to stop shaking if the next part of our plan is to succeed. I marvel at the heat coming through all that wet fur and sigh, my body relaxing slightly, though my adrenaline still runs high.

  I reach out to Mah’ue, who is flying nearby.

  Are Shy Mouse and Artan safely ashore?

  Yes, he confirms after a moment. At least two of our enemies are dead, and our allies are guarding another.

  He replays for me the series of events thus far: the snake falling from the branches of a tree arching over the river onto Whisker’s head and torso, distracting him long enough for an owl to swoop down and snatch his knife from his hand. Bears reaching up from the water to pull both canoes over; some saving me, Shy Mouse and Artan, while others attack our captors. Predators waiting at the river’s edge in case any of them escape.

  Two bodies floating downstream; one male, one female. Stone Drum left unharmed at my request, surrounded by Star Singer and her pack some distance downstream. Artan and Shy Mouse, huddled together in the sand, protected by two bears and a pair of hunting cats upstream.

  Where are the other three? I ask him and the animals listening, a feeling of foreboding raising the hairs on the back of my neck. They probably shape-shifted. Curving Claw is of the Bear Clan— he may have hidden himself among you. The others are of the Fox and Raccoon Clans.

  Shadow Among Shadows, the hunting cat with the torn ear, replies. We would not be fooled. They can’t hide their human stink, no matter what shape they take.

  I stand, Dusk Wanderer’s heat and my latest surge of adrenaline having warmed me enough, and start
trotting upstream in the wan moonlight. I need to make sure my heart-brother and sister are safe. Dusk Wanderer follows me along the river’s edge, and I sense several other, smaller nocturnal predators following us as well, deliberately staying out of sight of the bear.

  I don’t like this, Star Singer growls in my mind. Come to us. You may still be in danger. But I keep moving upstream doggedly.

  I have to find them.

  This human is no danger to anyone, Star Singer says of Stone Drum. We will come to you now. Dusk Wanderer falls behind me, less nimble than I amid the rocks and logs littering the bank of the river.

  Find our enemies, Mah’ue urges the other animals. I and the others seek them also. We do not know why we cannot sense their emotions.

  I feel his worry as if it’s my own. He shows me a brief glimpse through his eyes as he glides over the forest downriver, but I brush it aside so I can concentrate on navigating through the near-dark.

  Lightning flashes again, and this time, the growl of the thunder sounds farther away. Maybe I should Change into my Spirit Animal, I think, just before something comes flying out of the darkness and strikes my temple.

  I’m down on the ground, groaning, when a huge blur rushes past me. Dusk Wanderer roars and I hear a roar in response just before he crashes into a shadow his size near me, spraying sand into my face. I groan again, struggling to get up.

  A hand reaches out of the darkness, dragging me up roughly.

  “Our paths keep crossing, Little Squirrel,” Whisker rasps just loud enough to be heard over the deep growls and sounds of striving nearby. He shoves his face in mine and, as I whimper in pain, the moonlight reveals the tracks of bear claws across half his face, leaving deep, bloody gouges and a mess of ravaged skin where one of his eyes should be.

  I whimper again and recoil, feeling the blood dripping down my own face, my legs going out from under me. He lets me fall and bends over to leer at me, his face a terrifying, bloody mask of pure hatred.

  “You can never escape me. And your friends won’t be able to sense you if you’re unconscious.”

  Raising the stick in his hand again, he brings it down on my head, and I know no more.

  Chapter 36: Kella

  In desperation, I close my eyes and reach deep within myself for the power to call the wind, simultaneously crying out to the Goddess for her help. I feel a slight breeze caress my face in response, but no more. Hot tears burn tracks down my cheeks. I threw away my ability to defend my family on a whim, just to get even with bullies.

  I have two choices, I decide, opening my eyes: I can walk out onto the field and die with Karyl and my other teammates, or I can try to sneak out of the arena. Even if my strength wasn’t depleted, I doubt I could destroy hundreds of the creatures, especially when they stand so near to my loved ones. But I can’t bear to sit here and watch them die, either.

  Climbing down from the fence, hoping my movements won’t catch unwanted attention, I slip behind the stables and hurry toward the grooms’ entrance. It’s a small door cut into the wall of the arena, allowing the grooms direct access to the horses and equipment without mingling with the Ladies at the main entrance. With luck, it won’t be guarded and I can run into the woods to find Kisto. I reach for the handle…

  “Kella, dear! We meet at last.”

  I freeze, my heart pounding in time to my throbbing headache, and slowly turn. I don’t recognize the woman standing there twenty paces away, surrounded by half a dozen of the creatures. Her clothing is strange. Her dress is not one color, as our custom dictates, but two—red and black. The low-cut bodice and sleeves are rich red silk adorned with intricate black lace. The red trails down past her waist like flames licking downward, while more black lace meets the red as if dark flames are licking upward, with red lace patches scattered like flaming sparks across the black expanse. The result is breathtaking, as if the woman wearing the dress is in the midst of being consumed by flames and darkness.

  But the woman herself is even more beautiful. Her long black hair cascades onto her shoulders like a shining black river, framing the face of an angel. Her striking blue eyes, flawless skin, and perfect rosebud lips draw the eye. The way she looks at me, as if I’m the only person in the world, arrests me.

  She smiles. A smile like hers would brighten any room it enters and draw all eyes in admiration, under normal circumstances. But these are not normal circumstances. Run, my instincts shout, until I see the creatures behind her, their eyes blazing. Their strange energy vibrates in the air, freezing me in my place.

  “Who are you?” I fight to keep my voice from breaking.

  She comes toward me until I could reach out and touch her. Thankfully, the creatures don’t move to follow her. She sees me glance behind her at them.

  “My golems are fearsome, are they not? Just as you can tell the wind what to do, my golems answer to me and my Chosen alone. But that’s not what you asked me. My name is Malyse.” She gazes over my shoulder. “Your friend Sera knows me well.”

  Surprised, I glance back, but of course, there’s no one there that I can see.

  “How do you know about Sera?”

  “I’ve only recently regained my true form. I was as Sera is, stripped of my body and forced to live vicariously through others.”

  She looks behind me again, addressing empty space.

  “Isn’t it wonderful, Sera? Soon you will have your body back, and Wilde and the others will, as well. Little did we know it, but every time we touched a life, a bit of their physical being rubbed off on us, eventually returning me to what I thought was lost forever.”

  She smoothes her hands down the silk and lace covering her hips, sighing in evident enjoyment. “I’ll never take the ability to taste, touch, smell and live for granted again, I promise you that.”

  Turning back to me, she continues, “I don’t know if Sera has told you or not, though according to the rules of the Game, she was forbidden to do so, but you, Jaereth, and a few others were given your abilities for a very special reason. Do you know what that reason is?”

  I shake my head mutely.

  Malyse looks apologetic, though I sense she feels no actual regret. “I owe you an apology of sorts. You see, as Sera herself will tell you, I can be very selfish, and I get bored quite easily. For a time, I enjoyed joining with the women visiting the mating temples and experiencing in some small part the sexual energy to be had there…” she pauses, watching my face for my reaction, and seems satisfied when I can’t help but show my disgust “…but after several decades, I found myself wanting more. That’s when I thought up the game.

  “I went to Sera and the others, suggesting that we give each of our Chosen a special ability. Then we could pit them against each other to see which among them would survive.” Again she pauses, and even though I refuse to show her the reaction she wants, I can’t mask my outrage. The idea of using people as playthings makes me feel achingly ill—has she no care or concern for the feelings and lives of others?

  “Of course, Sera and the others had the same reaction you did. They thought the idea repugnant, as I knew they would. So I told them the truth: the game had already started, and if they wanted their Chosen to survive it, they had better give them a fighting chance by giving them an ability with which to protect themselves. And as the poor, sentimental souls they are, they did just that.

  “As with any game, as you well know from Horse-Dancing, there are winners and losers. Despite the fact that they have six Chosen and Kai and I only have two, the game is very nearly decided now in our favor.”

  Malyse exudes self-satisfaction, along with a kind of predatory glee. She addresses the air behind me once more. “I have Little Squirrel, Spark and Artan in hand, and now, with today’s success, I have Kella and Jaereth as well. Miklos will try to save his children, and then I’ll have him, too.

  “But don’t worry, Sera; I haven’t hurt them. I’ll wait until you and the others materialize so you can say goodbye to them first. I’m not a
complete monster, after all. The Na’e will feed off their anguish until then, and eventually, their deaths will pave the way for a new and glorious society.”

  Her teeth flash briefly, and then she fixes her eyes on me.

  “Speaking of games, congratulations on your win today, my dear. I have another confession to make in that regard. I bribed the Arrowtails to cheat, and bribed the enforcers to look the other way when they did. I had a feeling you might rail at the unfairness of it all and use your ability to even the score. I hoped it would drain you sufficiently so that I could take you without a fight. Just another strategy in a game I’ve been playing for a very long time.” She shrugs as if all she did was beat me at a game of Hoops and Strikers.

  I decide to ask her the question that came to mind as soon as she spoke to Sera. After all, my life is forfeit anyway. I might as well know the truth before I die.

  “You say you started playing this ‘game’ of yours because you were bored, but I sense there’s much more to it than that. The way you spoke to Sera just now, and the emotions I felt from you when you spoke of Wilde and the others—you hate them or are jealous of them in some way, I think. What did they do to you to provoke you?”

  I expected her to get angry, but she surprises me. Her eyes widen slightly, and she looks me over approvingly.

  “Ah, now I see why Sera Chose you, girl. That’s a very brave and intelligent question to ask someone who holds the power to hurt you and everyone you love. Few people surprise me anymore, after all these many years of having nothing else to do but observe others. I respect your courage, so I’ll answer you honestly.

  “Before we were transformed, Wilde and I were a couple. I’ve never been happier than I was with him,” she begins, her voice almost friendly, as if confiding a secret to a friend. “He could be very difficult, as all men are, but we understood each other and had many of the same unique interests.