Chapter 3.

Besieged by ferns and vines, trees and reed and the endless chatter of numerous flitters species, Viky felt at peace. Not relaxed, you could never let your guard down in the jungle, but the small stream winding its way through the tree roots nearby was creating a subtle pleasant tinkle. The ground was spongy with moss and far above the wind tossed canopy allowed a smattering of golden light to filter through in mottled streams. Gods Fire danced on the tips of the tallest trees, but the crackle was scarcely audible over the screeches, chirps, whistles, and toots of local inhabitants. Her hair and clothes were already damp from the humidity. Fresh air filled with verdant scents reminding her of home but there the similarities ended. The Rift’s multitudes of towering mushroom’s species were absent with only a few shrunken representatives decorating decaying vegetation.

Viky had grown used to the women of the capital calling the jungle the Evergreen and that colour was predominant, but flowers, fruit and foliage rioted, representing every shade and tone under the Aurora.

“How far away will we find grip ropes?” Maddie asked, glancing back in the direction of the now obscured well beaten track. It was a mistake, she stumbled over a fallen bamboo cane and narrowly avoiding impaling herself with the ornamental spear she insisted on bringing.

“They shouldn't be far. This undergrowth has been freshly cut by a gathering or foraging party, it’s roughly following this little waterway and grip vines like to root in well-watered places.” Viky gave her friend a confident grin and intercepted a swooping flying creature as it dive-bombed the plumes on Maddie’s hat.

“I don't think the city guards were pleased to see us leaving, I'm fairly sure they were gesturing for us to come back.” Jess had the common sense to watch where she was putting her feet, and the situational awareness to continually check her surroundings. The tall slim woman wore sensible narrow trousers, long boots, and a leather jacket without excessive decoration or shiny, predator attracting, ornamentation. Viky had no idea where she had found the impressive club she carried, or the knife sheathed at her waist.

“There's no rule that says we can't venture into the forest.” Maddie's bravado was not forced.

“I can't believe you've never been in the forest before.” Viky said. She had a ceremonial knife on her belt but kept her hands free as a conduit for the aether if it became necessary.

“I’ve never needed to go into the forest before.”

“Watch out, don’t lean on that tree,” Viky interrupted. “See the trunk. It’s not smooth, those are tiny spines, awful trouble to get out and slightly toxic.”

“Slightly toxic?” Jess came closer to the tree.

“Well, you would need to do something stupid like hug the tree to get a fatal dose. But they itch something chronic, is more annoying than anything else. And don’t pick that flower Maddie.”

“It’s very beautiful, do you know its name? I think those pink tones would look nice in a vast my aunt Mmodiia gave given me.” Maddie said.

“Nope, don’t know the name, but if you touch it a few heartbeats later you will feel a burning sensation. Not too bad, so long as you don’t rub your hands anywhere near your mouth or nose. And watch out for those little blue flying creatures.”

“Let me guess, they are toxic as well?” Maddie effectively shooed one away but completely missed seeing the other two. Jess dealt with them effectively.

“No, but they have a bite that you would swear is coming from an animal ninety-nine times their size.” Viky pushed on, maybe she should have come by herself.

“From what I’ve read everything in the Evergreen has a bite or sting, strangles, spits, or has teeth and claws to rip and shred.” Jess didn't appear to be particularly deterred, and Viky wondered if she had some inherited talents the rest of the sisterhood didn't know about.

“Have you spent time in jungle before?” Viky asked her.

“Sort of. My parent was a merchant and my family lived for many rotations at the way station between Amaraanth and Jiuliing. It wasn't a large settlement, and our defensive wall was often breached, particularly in the months of Assaults. So, I guess if you want to be technically correct, I didn't go into the Evergreen as much it came to me.” She grinned, competently flicking a Dribble bug out of her path with a twitch of the club.

“If it's not rude, can I ask how a merchant's daughter got to be selected for the contribution? I thought we were all supposed to be Commander's second daughters?” All around them the spores from a multitude of colourful Keep-it flowers twisted in a sweet-scented fickle breeze.

Jess chuckled. “I'm not offended, my parent was a good and honourable man, I'm not ashamed of him or his lack of prestige and rank. He and my mother truly loved each other, after he passed away my mother decided to move back to her family in Amaraanth. There are never enough second daughters born to Commanders in that city, so second daughters of wealthy families are found and recruited.”

“Did you have a choice?” Viky asked, she had been betrayed and forced to leave home. The Nononagantian drifting on an erratic gust caught the brunt of her unresolved anger.

“Sort of, maybe. It’s considered a great privilege to be asked, and my mother was very happy when I was chosen. It effectively doubled the family’s wealth. My older sister no longer needs share the inheritance. But more importantly to my mother, I was guaranteed a first born daughter. My sister only has two sons and is of an age where she is not planning another child. Hannaraay’s birth has brough great joy to my mother, she is delighted our family will continue for another generation.” Jess correctly identified some electrically charged moss and deftly stepped around it.

Viky nodded her head in comprehension but found the concept strange. Coalition rules clearly dictated all possessions and hereditary rights firmly belonged to the women of the family. The gender divide was not as rigid among her people, men, women and the whole community needing a greater degree of cooperation to survive the inhospitable environment. Child rearing was not the exclusive responsibility of the mother. Apart from feeding a newborn she would leave her infant and any other children in the capable hands of grandparents or older members of the clan. People whose age prevented them from scaling the Cliff face and actively gathering life’s necessities.

Maddie began monologue detailing all the reasons being selected for the contribution was wonderful. When she let out a screech it echoed off the cliff face and Viky was sure it could have been heard in the far reaches of Xiaan.

Viky grasped for the aether. Jess’s club came up. Ambient sounds fell silent.

“Something touched me.” She yelled, masses of pink fabric fluttering in all directions.

“Where?”

“On the leg.”

Jess looked down, so Viky looked up, and around. A clump of grasses waved, stirred by a seeking tendril creeping towards them. “To the right, more vines coming.”

Maddie screamed again, no longer alarmed, but a defiant blood curdling cry of rage. Viky focused on the closest approaching vine. Pouncing as it came within reach, she yanked sharply, drawing a couple of body lengths into herself. Firmly grasping further along the newly exposed section she jerked again. Another body length writhed at her feet as she swiftly took her knife and sawed through the wiry sinew.

Viky was tripped. Falling forward one knee impacting the ground. Before she could recover another strong fine tendril sort to wind around her ankle. A third wove through the moss. Snaking towards its companions, questing to add strength to the bond. With a swift decisive move Viky grabbed the slender tip before it could complete a circle and jerked. Keeping a tight grip on the tip she slid her other hand down the exposed length of vine and hauled again. The trick was to not let the vine loop around you while exposing as much length in the shortest time frame. The plants were not intelligent, but possessed an instinctive self-preservation wisdom. If the predator was too large or uncooperative it would withdraw and seek sustenance elsewhere.

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Pulling again revealed enough vine length for a decent whip. Viky brought her hands together, grasping tip and stem in one hand, with a practiced motion she slashed the stem. She dealt with the second seeking tendril before the first offered its last shuddering spasms and quietened.

Viky glanced around at her friends.

Jess was in the process of heaving at a vine that had foolishly ventured close to her. She wore a frown of deep concentration and was gritting her teeth but didn't need assistance. Maddie had a tendril wrapped around her calf. As Viky watched she frantically grabbed both sides of the plant and using brute force ripped it apart. Viky was impressed, had only ever seen a Ceretroop rip grip-vines apart before, but it was one tendril that was never going to make a belt, whip or rope.

Sighting another length of vine Viky went on the attack. Lunging at the growth, with calculated speed, she grasped the apex, hauling swiftly. Panting Maddie came to assist and using Viky’s knife cut through the tough fibre. Keeping on the alert, Viky began winding the gathered vines into manageable loops.

“Yuck, just look, it’s left a ring around my leg,” Maddie pulled a disgusted face.

“Once we get back you can use some of the sap from the severed stems, give it a bit of a scrub, and the green coloration will go.” Viky reassured her.

“That was invigorating.” Jess wiped sap from her blade on the springy moss. “Are we going to get more?”

Viky coiled the grip-ropes watching a flock of bright blue and pink flitters take off mid-canopy. Shrieking and cartwheeling they were tossed by a blast of freshening air. She glanced around for other indications, flower buds withdrawing into stems, small swarming insects retreating to their chrysalis, the canopy tops irregular motion.

“The weather’s coming up. If I were still at home, we’d be getting a Circle Storm within the next hands-breadth. The ones I’ve seen are milder here than in the Rifts, but it’s still better not to get caught outside when one hits.”

“Do we have enough vine?” Maddie asked. “I was expecting more adventure.”

“Adventure is overrated and yeah, this lot will take us the rest of the nine-day to process.” If Maddie had wanted more time in the forest she should have not kept them waiting while she changed her outfit three times.

“If last rotation was anything to go by, there was generally only a couple of hands breadths lull in the weather between circle storms. Although they drew closer together later in the month.”

Jess shouldered the grip ropes she had coiled. Maddie picked up a couple before gathered the fragments produced by her efforts and wandered further along the overgrown track. Viky flicked some Fire Crawlers away.

“Can we go back this path,” Maddie asked. “It looks like it's been used more recently, and we can enjoy some different scenery?”

Viky shrugged it made no difference to her. Both tracks lead back to the city and Maddie was already forging the way. Spear swishing before her decimating narrow razer bamboos shoots and emerging ferns crowding the newly cleared path. They passed through a patch of creeper draped trees with slender twisting trunks that rose to fill the canopy.

Just beyond Maddie stopped, “What is that stench?”

Glancing around there was plenty of evidence confirming recent human activity. The area beneath a couple of Great Tree’s had been cleared to facilitating regular harvesting and the forest floor and lower branches were devoid of fruit. Covered by a single day’s re-growth a wide Scythe slashed path led from the trees.

Viky caught a whiff of the scent Maddie had been referring too.

“Keep moving.” She said, pushing hastily onward, senses springing to full alert.

“What is it?” Maddie insisted.

“Something unpleasant.” Jess dashed to catch up and Maddie was forced to follow.

Underlying the dank moss, ripe body odour and scent of Great Tree Fruit there was something pungent and bitter-sweet. Diminished, but undeniable, and once identified it was something Viky would never forget. The stench of death.

***

Dereniik collapsed into plush cushions on his preferred couch. Chruciaal boosted the largest library under the Aroura, and the vast space was his favourite place. Lines of leather bound books, rows of cubbies for scrolls, plinths of etched script, tapestries and tomes. The scent of parchment mixed with linseed, contee and a hint of cloves. No sounds above a quite murmur and the undeniable feeling of tranquillity. Dereniik didn’t believe in an afterlife, how could anything be more perfect than this?

On silent feet Chen approached and bowed from the waist. “My Lord it is this humble servant’s pleasure to be of assistance. What is your desire to study this day?”

Dereniik took a heartbeat to catch his breath. “Thank you Chen, I require Kosterman’s work.”

“It is with great regret this unworthy one must inform you that work is already being perused by another Commander this morning.” Chen twisted fine fingers in distress.

Dereniik hid his surprise and disappointment.

“May I please inquire as to the name of the Commander studying the manuscript?” Was someone else investigating the case already?

“Commander Cassenteen, my Lord.”

Dereniik frowned, he knew of the man, but only by reputation. His flirtatious and womanizing behavior had reached legendary proportions even before he had chosen to become a commander.

“Chen, will you please make inquiries of Commander Cassenteen as to the length of time he will requiring the manuscript?”

“At once my Lord.”

Dereniik hesitated to pull rank, but what was the chances of it being a coincidence that the manuscript he wanted to look at was already being studied by another? There were thousands of pieces of literature in the library, only a handful of people visited at any given time.

Several heartbeats later a deep rich voice and melodious chuckle preceded Commander Cassenteen as he turned from between shelves and into view. Chen, thick manuscript tucked under his arm, trotting to keep up with the confidant, long legged strides. Tall, well-muscled and with chiseled predominant Chinquaar features Cassenteen was a man artists would love to use as a model when making representations the Heros of old.

Sighing Dereniik gathered crutches, mustered his remaining energy, and shuffled to stand. The insignias on his epilates identified Cassenteen as of the Fourth Maull. Dereniik had qualified at the top of his rotation with a ranking of fifth Maull and been promoted once since. Protocol dictated; he spoke first.

“Commander Cassenteen, thank you for your consideration. I apologize for interrupting your study, I could have waited.” Chen placed Kosterman’s manuscript on the side table by Dereniik’s couch.

“My Lord,” Cassenteen gave him an engaging smile and an excessive bow of Amaranthaan origins, although paradoxically his accent was Upper Class First City.

“The interruption is welcome. My teammate Flagsteen speaks highly of you, so I am glad to become acquainted. It’s not every day one gets to meet a real Hero.” Cassenteen flashed an exaggerated smile.

Dereniik had spent most of last night screaming with nightmares or awake in too much pain to sleep. He felt as far from a Hero as the unfathomable distance between God’s eyes rising to setting.

“I live to serve and have done nothing others also would have not done in the same situation.”

Cassenteen’s tawny eyes gleamed and the laughter lines around his eyes crinkled. “I don’t believe that for a heartbeat, most Commanders a few rotation’s out of training have become too fat and comfortable to walk for one day, let alone for a couple of months. And that’s not even taking into consideration the dangers of the forest and your injuries.”

Dereniik held Cassenteen’s steady gaze. He was opiniated for a young man and presented as older than most of his newly graduated peers. It was possible of course. A couple of light mint and teal streaks decorated predominantly yellow wavy hair. If the streaks were natural the mint green denoted Longevity. Scarce among the larger population, it turned up with surprising regularity among those of Chinquaar decent.

“May I inquire as to your interest in Kostermans Work?” Dereniik asked, the strain of standing making him feel lightheaded.

“Kostermans? Oh, I see the manuscripts author. I don’t really have an interest in his, or her work. I just asked one of the D’char for a work on Slitherers and that was what they delivered.”

Cassenteen graced him with a charming smile as he gestured for Chen to move a couch closer. Without invitation he proceeded to lounge. Grateful, Dereniik returned to his own couch. Cassenteen’s unorthodox action forestalling the embarrassment of tottering or fainting.

“Has your team started training with any of the High Council Committees?” Dereniik asked conversationally, mental tension continuing to blossom.

“No, no we are just kicking our heals waiting for Flagsteen to produce an heir before being shipped out to wherever the Coalition dictates.”

“I thought your team may have been asked to stay at Chruciaal, Flagsteens Healing capabilities are being utilized.”

Cassenteen laughed, the mirth was real, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I think there may have been some of the High Council that entertained that notion, but on coming to know us, they were dissuaded.”

Dereniik nodded he knew it was only Glilmoor’s mothers influence and sequin that has kept him from punishment for his outspoken criticism of slavery and the D’char caste system. Cassenteen’s dalliances had initially been tolerated, but the man was masterfully effective, and he preferred young women who were other men’s life partners, lenience could only be extended so far. Even the youth Flagsteen was a rule breaker, using his Healing powers compassionately without consideration for protocol. Dereniik couldn’t complain, he had been a recipient, but it wouldn’t sit well those who required exclusive control, or the procedure obsessed High Council. The other six men in the team were unknown to Dereniik, but generally regarded as diss-functional.

“So, why study Slithers?” Dereniik asked.

“Why not,” Cassenteen put his hands behind his head and with a chuckle lent back. “Am I under investigation?”

“Is there a reason you should be?”

“I hope not, don’t see why my choice of reading material should be of any concern to the Directives Committee. Although I have stopped being bothered trying to work out the idiosyncrasies of our beloved Coalition.”

Dereniik intentionally didn’t respond to Cassenteen’s irreverent attitude, but the arrogance was annoying.

“Commander Cassenteen neither you, nor your choice of reading material is of interest to the Directives Committee. I was simply sating my own curious but would appreciate an answer to my question.”

Cassenteen spent a few heartbeats examining perfectly manicured fingernails.

“I have been feeling bored lately, though reading about Slithers would be exciting. I must say the manuscript did not live up to my expectations. But don’t you find so many things in life are like that?”

Dereniik found his mind inexplicably contemplating unfulfilled expectations. He searched and identified a slight cool pressure and immediately understood his impression of mental tension. A fleeting look of surprise passed over Cassenteen’s eyes. Next heartbeat the chill evaporated, and pressure resolved itself into a mild throbbing headache. Cassenteen’s nonchalant attitude returned.

“Any way, I am keeping you from your investigation. Heralds blessing, hope you discover what you’re looking for. I’ll find another interesting animal to study.” Cassenteen gracefully rose making the correct hand signals for respect when leaving.

“Have you heard of Trusfraids?” Dereniik asked conversationally. “They are fascinating, not unlike Slitherers, but yellow and mustard concentric bands. The ensnare their prey by hypnosis, coercion, or mind control.”

For a fraction of a heartbeat, Cassenteen’s features faulted before he masked them chuckled and shaking his head replied. “I think Nisayaan’s require further research, I don’t want to give myself nightmares.”

Dereniik nodded and gave him a modified variation of the hand signal for dismissal, noting Cassenteen had not answered his question.

Kostermans Work was informative, the reasoning sound, and potentially not the only interesting irrelevant information he learned from the visit to the library.

Cassenteen had lied about being bored and attempted to use one of the yellow, mind-control fractal powers on him.