Warrior of the Wild Page 8

  But the fruit is tasty. Sweet, with just enough of a kick to it to make it exciting. I put the rest of the berry in my mouth before wiping my chin off on the back of my hand.

  “It’s a small way to show my gratitude for what you’ve done for me, but I assumed since you’re new to the wild, you won’t know which plants are edible yet.”

  I grab a handful of berries and walk with them over to the tree opposite the clearing, the one whose branches I chopped to make my fort.

  “How did you know these wouldn’t kill you when you first tried them?” I ask.

  “Well, I didn’t,” he says.

  I peer over my shoulder. “You didn’t,” I repeat, confused.

  “Iric was so hungry. We’d run out of food the previous day, and I didn’t know what else to do. I tried many things that day. In small quantities. I recommend avoiding the indigo-colored berries and the dark purple fruit. I won’t scar your ears by telling you what happened when I tried those.”

  Apparently, putting himself in harm’s way is something Soren excels at. “And I suppose you volunteered to taste everything in your path while Iric merely watched?” I ask.

  Soren just shrugs.

  Odd I decide is the best word. This boy is very odd.

  “Thank you for the berries,” I tell him.

  “You are brave and wondrous with an ax,” Soren says. “May the goddess grant you rest in her Paradise in the next life.”

  I force myself not to react to the words. I’d thought the two boys didn’t believe in the goddess, but it would appear I was wrong. At least where Soren is concerned.

  I nod, both a dismissal and my own show of gratitude.

  Then I turn back to the tree in front of me. Grabbing a long and pointed rock from the ground, I press it to the bark firmly and scrape a line at an angle.

  “What are you doing?”

  I jump slightly. Soren’s voice is close, and I hadn’t heard him come up behind me. I assumed he would have taken my hint and left.

  I face him, not bothering to hide my irritation this time. “Look, I appreciate the food. It was a kind gesture, but I have work to do. And it’s really none of your business what I do with my time.”

  Soren looks perplexed. “You … want to be left alone?”

  “Yes.”

  He’s taken aback. “It’s safer out here if we stick together. The only reason Iric and I have survived this long is because we have each other. Our shelter is plenty big for three people. The ziken can’t climb. We’re safe from them. Your fort is truly impressive, but if any beast discovers you’re sleeping inside, it won’t take much for them to break through. Especially the gunda.”

  I roll my eyes but don’t bother telling him the gunda isn’t real. It’s not worth the energy. Instead I demand, “Why are you concerning yourself with my safety?” I don’t like at all the way he’s showing so much interest in what I do.

  “Because I’m gallant and chivalrous.”

  I stare at him.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Are you flirting with me?”

  He grins. “I just think it should be pointed out that you’re a fierce warrior woman and I’m a fierce warrior man, so we should spend some time together.”

  I cock my head to the side. “I found you broken and bleeding on the ground.”

  “I was … having an off day. Give it time, you’ll see what I’m really like.”

  “I have no interest in seeing any more of you.” I wave a hand up and down his profile with the words, which I hope makes all meanings of the phrase perfectly clear.

  Soren stands there for a moment, as though he doesn’t know what to do next.

  “The road is that way.” I point in the direction I intend for him to go.

  I turn back to the tree.

  “All right. You want to be left alone. I understand.”

  I let out a sigh of relief.

  “But there’s a problem,” Soren says. “You see, you saved my life. Now it belongs to you. I owe you a life debt. From now until I draw my last breath, I am your man.”

  I blink.

  Damn.

  I know of the warrior code of honor, of course. But it didn’t occur to me that by saving this fool, I’d be shackling him to me.

  Should have left him to die.

  You don’t mean that. Irrenia’s voice cuts into my head, chastising.

  Okay, I suppose I don’t mean that, but I can’t have this boy following me around all the time.

  “I release you from your debt,” I say. “Think nothing of it.”

  “You can’t do that. That’s not how it works.”

  I groan. “Please go.”

  He looks from me to the tree and back again. His lips purse. “Tell me what you’re doing and I’ll go.”

  I fix him with what I hope is a death glare, but he doesn’t budge. If anything, he looks more determined than ever to stay.

  Rock still in hand, I return to the tree, etching once more. “I’m mapping out Peruxolo’s domain.”

  Silence from behind me. After finishing the mountain, I draw the thick wild off to the right, leaving a gap in the trees where I saw the trail.

  I turn to the side of the tree and carve out a list.

  FACE OF A MAN

  BLOND HAIR

  CARRIES AN AX

  “You went to the god’s lair?” Soren finally sputters out.

  “I did.” This boy is like an irksome fly that just won’t leave me alone.

  “Why?”

  “You said if I told you what I was doing you would leave. Are you going to dishonor yourself by lying?”

  “No, I’ll take my leave,” he says hurriedly. “Stay safe, Rasmira.”

  I listen to his footsteps as he retreats. I’m surprised Iric let Soren out of his sight after what happened last time. If it were my friend—

  I stop that line of thought, because I realize I’ve never had a real friend, only a pretend one who sought to get me killed.

  * * *

  AFTER MUCH DEBATING, I decide not to pick up my fort and move camp. It’s too much work, and I’m certain I could take Soren if it came down to it. Though for now, I’m convinced he’s harmless. Annoying as hell, sure, but harmless. Besides, it would be terribly foolish of him to be out and about at night.

  As I lie in my little fort that evening, sleep has a harder time coming. I’m not quite so exhausted, and blasted Soren has thoughts of the gunda going through my head.

  Damn him.

  Damn him and his cursed life debt. I don’t know how he thinks he can possibly do for me as I have done for him. He’s a banished warrior. He must not be very skilled with an ax if he was exiled.

  But you were banished, a little voice reminds me.

  That was different.

  Not necessarily. You shouldn’t be so quick to judge until you know his story.

  I don’t want to know his story. Just the thought of being near him again makes me uncomfortable. No more boys in my life. Never again.

  I roll over and pull my blanket over my head.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING, I’m quick and efficient. Lace up my boots. Place the bark strip back over the opening in my fort. Eat breakfast (which includes Soren’s berries, but I determinedly don’t think about where they came from). Haul on my pack. Grab my ax.

  And then I’m on my way to the god once more.

  I don’t know if an immortal can be killed, but I do know that if I’m to learn more about this being, I need to get inside the mountain where he lives.

  Though unbidden, I think of the last Payment I witnessed. Of the village leader who was killed without more than a flick of the god’s wrist. If Peruxolo can kill that easily, what will he do to the person who attempts to take his life?

  That’s not important, I try to assure myself as I take up a steady pace down the road. My eternal soul is what is important. I don’t know if it’s truly in jeopardy, but I’m not about to take any chances.


  To occupy myself on the journey, I utter kind words about my sisters aloud for the goddess to record in her Book of Merits. I stretch my arms, roll my neck, try to think of what I’ll do if the god doesn’t leave his lair and give me an opportunity to search it.

  It’s much too soon before I’m back in the woods across from the mountain. I climb the same tree I did yesterday, a tall number with yellow-brown bark and smooth branches, and I wait.

  And I wait.

  And I wait.

  My limbs ache hours later, when I’m still holding so very still, staring at the dark seam in the mountain.

  Then a blond head of hair finally steps out.

  Peruxolo.

  Just like yesterday, he walks right over to the tree line and starts following the well-worn trail through the undergrowth. This time, however, he doesn’t stop when he’s right below me. He passes by without pause.

  Another day I will follow this trail and see where it leads, but for now, I want to see inside the mountain.

  I shimmy down from the tree. Slowly at first, I step toward the seam. When nothing bad happens, I pick up my pace, no more than a quick walk.

  But then I jog because the god is away, and I don’t know how much time I have. And I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe these are the steps I must take to return home.

  A jolt runs through me, and in the next instant, I’m falling backward. I don’t catch myself in time, my backside connecting with the uneven ground.

  What the devil?

  I rise, look around me. There’s nothing in sight. I look down. I felt as though I’d been struck. But all over. Like I ran into a wall.

  The opening in the mountain is still a good ten feet in front of me.

  I try approaching it again.

  But after two steps, I’m brought to a crushing halt once more.

  I raise my hands, hesitantly reach out in front of me with my fingers. I can’t feel anything tangible against my skin, and yet, I can’t move forward any more. It’s as if my wrists are tied to the end of a rope that is pulled taut. They can’t cross the invisible barrier.

  The god has powerful defenses at work. Defenses that remain even when he is not present.

  I back up just a couple of steps, select a rock from the ground, and hurl it toward the opening.

  But unlike me, it meets no resistance. It sails right through the opening and lands with a soft clack.

  Is it just me, then, that cannot enter?

  I slide my ax from my back and hold it up to where that barrier lies. But it’s like pressing it up against a solid wall. It won’t break through the air.

  My next thought is that perhaps no weapon can enter the god’s lair. Maybe that is why I cannot enter. I drop my ax on the ground behind me and try to press against the barrier with my hands once more.

  No such luck.

  I return my ax to my back before carefully examining the mountain. Small grasses and trees grow along it. Otherwise, there is nothing but rock and ore—exactly what one would expect on a mountain. Inside the gap, now that I’m so much closer than I was before, I can see firewood stacked along the dark edges of the interior. Large animal skins line the floor, offering a soft carpet to walk on.

  Luxury is exactly what I’d expect to see in the home of a god.

  “What are you doing?”

  I freeze in place.

  I’ve heard that voice before. That deep rumble that makes the hair on the back of my neck rise.

  I turn.

  Peruxolo has returned, his hood now covering his head. He is some distance from me, perhaps fifteen feet or so, and I thank the goddess for that distance. If he were any closer, I might lose my footing for the fear coursing through my veins.

  “I asked you a question,” he says. “You’d better answer before I lose my patience.”

  My mouth has grown dry, but I somehow force my lips to open. “I came to see you.”

  “That was foolish.”

  This could be the end of my life right here. One flick of his wrist, and I’m dead. I cannot remain standing here as this scared girl. I need to be more. I need to think quickly. I need to be brave and wise.

  Be a warrior.

  “The way I see it,” I begin, “my days are numbered as it is. The wild is no friend to mortals, and I figured my chances were better with you.”

  That sends his hood cocking to one side. “You came all the way here on your own? Which village are you from?”

  I cannot give up the name of my village. What if he decides to take out my foolishness on all of Seravin? On my sisters?

  “I have no village. Not anymore,” I say. “They cast me out after I failed my trial.”

  “You were banished.” He laughs, short and deep. “You overestimated yourself greatly. You thought you could join the warriors, be the only female among their ranks. Yes, I can see it now.” He tips his head back, and I can spot closed eyelids, as though he’s watching my fate pool behind his eyes.

  “But you’re alive. Alive for five whole days on your own, and now you seek me out. Why?” he asks.

  “The ziken grow hungry. I know I cannot evade them forever. You could provide me with safety.”

  “I could,” he drawls. “The question remains, what is it you could provide me with?”

  The way he says it makes me feel dirty, and I take a step back, right up against that barrier.

  Silence stretches between us, and I manage to turn myself so I have open air behind me, not that invisible barrier and the seam in the mountain.

  At last, he lets out a lazy sigh. “No ideas? I’ve none, either. There’s nothing you could do to serve me. I want nothing from you. Your journey was wasted.”

  I swallow, dare a step backward. “Are you going to kill me?”

  “Only if you return here. Now go!” The last word comes out so loudly, I jump a good foot in the air. Then I’m backtracking, keeping my eyes on the god.

  Movement comes out of the corner of my eye, and Peruxolo and I both turn our heads.

  Rocks cascade down from the mountain, rolling, tumbling, hurtling toward the ground. I watch for a moment, confused by the scene, until I realize this is the perfect distraction I need.

  I take quick steps backward, watching the god, watching the danger in front of me.

  After a time, he turns away from the rockslide. The rocks reach the ground, perhaps a hundred yards away from his home—no damage done there. Of course not. Perhaps he concentrated so carefully on the slide to use his power to control it.

  And I wasted some of that time by watching it, too.

  But now his attention is back on me.

  “Is that as fast as your mortal legs will go?” he questions cruelly.

  Peruxolo runs for me. He gains momentum quickly, while I stumble over my own feet trying to retreat. Just before I turn around, to put all my efforts into sprinting away from him, I watch him thrust his arms out in my direction. And that invisible force that I felt earlier—the god’s power—

  It strikes me, forcing me off my feet, flinging me backward onto the hard ground. I breathe out once, deeply.

  Then I’m scrambling—running—fleeing for my life.

  When at last I find the road, I dare a glance back over my shoulder.

  Peruxolo sweeps his cape behind him before disappearing into the mountain.

  CHAPTER

  8

  After a time, I think my lungs will burst if I do not stop running. I collapse onto the ground, my body quivering with exertion and fear.

  I manage to skid off to the side a ways, burying myself into the thickness of the wild, out of the obvious sight of the road. Just in case Peruxolo followed.

  Not that it matters. If he wanted me dead, I’d be dead.

  I don’t know how long I sit there, catching my breath, imagining all the ways I could have died, but it doesn’t feel terribly long before I hear something.

  Steps in the wild. Approaching from the god’s direction.
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  I have the ax off my back in an instant.

  I crouch behind a tree close to the road, watching, waiting.

  When a figure comes into view, I pause, trying to make sense of it.

  As it comes closer, I ready my ax, preparing to strike. And at just the right moment, I thrust the shaft toward the road, causing Soren to trip right over it.

  He’d been running, and the fall sends him flying, crashing and skidding across the broken-up ground.

  He curses as he stands, wiping rocks and mud and dried leaves from his scratched-up palms, his skinned knees.

  I’m fuming.

  “Did you follow me?”

  “Did you trip me?”

  What. The. Hell.

  I hold my hands in front of me. They’re shaking. I can’t decide if I want to wrap them around Soren’s neck or cover my face with them.

  I almost died. And Soren is here. Why is he here?

  I growl. “What’s the matter with you? I told you to stay away from me! You promised you would! What are you doing here?” I’m a pot of water that’s just set to boiling, and I’ll burn anything that gets too close.

  Soren, realizing this, takes a step away from me, brushing carefully at his bleeding palms. “I promised no such thing. I said I’d leave your camp, and I did. What are you doing here? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

  Of course I wasn’t, but I say, “That is the purpose of our mattugrs, is it not?”

  That brings him up short. “Your mattugr…”

  “I’ve been sent to kill Peruxolo.”

  There it is. I said the words out loud. Now I realize just how hopeless they are.

  “Which is, once again, none of your business,” I add.

  “Your life is my only business now. Do I need to remind you? I owe you a life debt.”

  “And just how do you think you’re—” I cut off as I realize something. “The rockslide. That was you?”

  “I tried to divert the god’s attention so you could flee. Thank the goddess, he didn’t think to climb the mountain and see what caused the slide.”

  “They’re probably a regular occurrence near the mountain,” I say, thinking aloud. “I doubt he thought anything of it.”